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#this one was more just an experiment to see what i could do with it!
slvttyplum · 7 hours
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bro i accidentally posted this while it wasnt even closed to finish and i lost the fucking request sorry anon.
getting you wasn't easy; it was quite hard, but satoru knew he was up for the challenge. even though you tried to act like you weren't interested in him, he could see the bedroom eyes you would give him every time he came into contact with you. your gaze lingering on his a bit longer than needed was his motivation; he couldn't get over those beautiful eyes you had. m
they even showed up in his dreams; he could even hear your voice. he was going crazy thinking about you, but who wouldn't? 
weeks went by of him just thinking about you and how to get you to even send another one of your sexy glances at him. it wasn't until a month after finals that you showed up to his party, not knowing it was actually his. when his eyes landed on yours, he knew what he had to do. he didn't care if he embarrassed himself or even got rejected; he just wanted your soft voice to slide into his ears.
you went a whole month without seeing him, yet your friends picked him up every chance they got. your head was pounding from hearing his name; it was insane, yet it brought you a little sense of comfort. now, you wouldn't say you were the asiest person to get at, but frat guys just weren't your type; satoru was a little different though. 
even though he was silly and not that mature yet, his face was not bad to look at. 
"you came to college to be a wet blanket? get at him." your friend's words echo in your ear as satoru approaches you, reminding you that this was never going to be a serious thing, so just go for it, but you were wrong.
your relationship started like any other one: hooking up, and it felt so fucking good that you didn't even want to go home after; satoru didn't want you to leave his bed either. his arms wrapped around you and his dick still inside of you while he slept—this is what happened every time the both of you had free time or during the weekends.
your friends were blowing up your phone, asking you where you were, and your cheeks were turning warm as you looked to your side. it was embarrassing how you were in his bed more than you were in your own. what turned into fun and purely trying to live your college experience turned into love for both you and satorus part.
usually people can tell when someone is not genuine with their words or actions, how fake and phony everything they did was, but when it came to satoru, everything he did was real; the way he spoke to you and touched you, it was all genuine. 
touching you in ways no one else would; he was in love with you. 
doing things for you that he wouldn't do for anyone else, putting you before everyone and anything else; you were the most important person to him, and you loved him for that. 
give frat boy satoru a little grace; he isn't that terrible.
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nicksbestie · 2 days
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Dress - C. Sturniolo
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Summary : AU where Chris is a frat boy, you're his girlfriend that he brings to their formal, and he's obsessed with the dress you chose.
Warnings : 16+ content. i am not responsible for the media you choose to consume online. smut, makeouts, p in v, fingering, overall very loving/sweet scene
Word Count : 3758
Pairing : Chris Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)
A/N : @bratzforchris and i were discussing this idea... and so it was born! hope you enjoy!
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You had sworn to yourself in high school that you were never going to be the person who was always at parties in college.
It wasn’t your scene, you weren’t going to be that reckless, and you didn’t like being around drunk people. You’d promised yourself and your family that you would be safe and responsible, and if you were to go out, you wouldn’t take things too far. So how did you end up in a frat house every weekend, drunk out of your mind, stumbling back home? The college pressure has gotten to you. You didn’t feel well, you were struggling in your classes, so you turned to the one thing that got you to get a normal amount of sleep, and that just happened to be passing out drunk way too often than you should have been.
It wasn’t helping you, but it was keeping you from having to think about it too much, because instead of laying awake in your dorm, staring at the ceiling until three in the morning, the taste of alcohol was coating your lips, and all you cared to think about was the next cup you were picking up. It didn’t even matter what was in it. As long as it wasn’t laced with anything, you would down it easily. You were going down a terrible path, and everyone who encountered you for more than a couple nights in a row could see that. Your roommate had tried to talk you out of going out so much, but you had ignored her, choosing to brush her advice to the side as you continued to do what you were doing. She had resorted to keeping you as safe as possible, knowing that she couldn’t control you, but she was always there after the parties, helping take care of you and making sure you got home safely.
She was there every morning after as well, holding your hair back when the alcohol hit you as soon as you woke up, helping you clean the makeup from the previous night off of your face. She would lay out medications for you, making sure you drank water to help soothe your unavoidable headache, and all of the care would come with a gentle reminder that you shouldn’t be doing this. You would always listen but never actually take it to heart, and luckily, she was still always there. She didn’t give up on you, but she knew pushing you could risk pushing you farther into the state you were already in, so she took care of you in all the ways that she could. But eventually, she wasn’t the only one doing so. You were always at the same frat house, so a lot of the boys knew you by your face, not much by your personality, or even by your name. There was one boy, however, who always made sure to have his eyes on you. 
Chris had noticed you since the first time you had ever showed up to a party hosted by his fraternity, and he wasn’t ashamed of it. You were beautiful, but he was way too drunk to approach you. His confidence was definitely increased by the alcohol, but he also knew from experience that hitting on a girl while he was wasted probably wasn’t the best choice, and he saw that you had someone with you, even though it was another girl. He had seen you every time you came into the frat house, and he had stayed sober solely for the reason of eventually talking to you. He noticed just how drunk you had been getting, and he kept his eyes on you so that if you needed help, he could be there. And eventually, his moment came. Your roommate hadn’t been there for you one night, because she didn’t know that you had come to a party this night, having had an evening class. So when you were basically stumbling down the front steps, he had rushed to make sure you didn’t fall. 
It had all started there. He walked you home that night, making sure that you were okay, and when you had slurred over the words that invited him in, he accepted, solely for the purpose of not leaving you drunk and alone. He knew how it could look, so he kept his distance, laughing with you and spending time with you until your roommate got home. When she did, she couldn’t deny that she was shocked to see someone she didn’t know sitting on her dorm floor, but Chris rushed to explain that he had only come in to make sure that you didn’t wander off the second that he left. He introduced himself, leaving as soon as he was sure that you were safe, and every time you returned to the frat house, he was making sure that you were always within his sight range. He walked you home multiple times after that, really getting to know your roommate, and they became good friends. 
The two of them combined had been the reason that you stopped partying so much. You still went out occasionally, but you were stone cold sober, and you only went to hang out with Chris. After a couple more weeks of this, Chris finally got the urge to ask you out, and you had accepted with a wide smile. It had been an amazing night, complete with him walking you home, having the route he had walked so many times memorized, dropping you off with a promise to see you the next day. You were infatuated with him, admiring the way he had kindly taken care of you for longer than you had ever noticed. He genuinely seemed like a good person, and he had taken everything so slow, knowing that you didn’t take very well to things moving quickly. He had been so supportive in your journey to get sober, and he and your roommate were everything to you. 
So that brought you to now, your roommate helping you curl your hair as you were getting ready for Chris’ fraternity formal. You had finally decided that you wanted to go to one of them, and your anxiety was racing, your heart pounding in your chest. When you had really begun to get to know Chris, you realized just how popular he really was, an incredible contrast to your social life. You weren’t a nobody, but you certainly weren’t one of the people who was recognized in every class you stepped in, giving out high fives in the hallways, and having hundreds of people show up to your parties because they wanted a chance at speaking to you. However, he never let the popularity get to his head, and that was one of the things that you loved the most about him. He was genuinely a good person, but dating someone who was so popular as being someone who was not still made your heart sink. 
People knew you were friends with Chris, but they didn’t know that you were dating him. The only people who knew that you and Chris were dating were you, Chris, and your roommate, as you had kept it very under wraps. You weren’t going to lie, you had heard some of the drunk comments that the frat brothers in Chris’ fraternity had made about him hanging out with you, and sometimes they stung, so you hadn’t come out about the true nature of your relationship with him. Chris had understood, and had no problem keeping it between your close group, knowing that regardless of who knew about the two of you, you were still his girl, so the approval of other people didn’t matter to him. You were a hopeless romantic, and Chris really was everything that you had ever dreamed of, but you were also a firm believer in the fact that relationships flourished better when they were quieter. 
This was the first time that you were going out publicly as a couple. You had actually suggested it, knowing that Chris had asked a couple of times if you would ever consider it, and originally, you had said no. But now, you felt like you were ready, feeling like as long as you were with your boyfriend, it didn’t matter what anybody else thought or said about you. It may be cheesy, but you had the people who mattered to you the most, and everybody else could deal with it. Chris had been over the moon when he heard your decision, excited to take you out, and knowing that you would look absolutely stunning in whatever you chose to wear. Your roommate was careful not to burn you with the curling iron, touching up your makeup for you before leaving the bathroom to pull your dress off of the hanger, handing it to you for you to slip on. You zipped it up as far as you could, it catching on the fabric near the top, so you stepped out of the bathroom to have your roommate finish zipping it up for you. She smiled as soon as she saw you.
“You look beautiful, babe. Chris is going to lose his mind.” 
You smiled back, turning around so she could help.
“Do you mind? I couldn’t get it all the way up.” 
“Of course not!” 
The second she went to finish zipping your dress, there was a knock at the door. Your dress was zipped up enough to stay perfectly positioned on you, so she went to open the door, smiling when she saw Chris. 
“Oh, you should let him do it. Come on in, she’s almost ready.” 
Chris stepped into the room, immediately seeing you as soon as he got through the doorway. His jaw seemed to hit the floor, eyes widening as he took in your appearance. 
“Baby, you’re stunning.” 
You smiled at him, waving him over. 
“Can you finish zipping up my dress?”
He nodded, immediately moving behind you and making sure that he didn’t pinch your skin as he slid the zipper up to the top of the slit of your dress. He noticed the dress was backless, and he would’ve lied if anyone had pointed out that his hands were shaking. He couldn’t believe that he had gotten so incredibly lucky. He didn’t know what he had done in one of his past lives to deserve such a perfect person in his life, but he would do it a million times over if it meant that he got to have you for eternity. You sat down in your desk chair to put on your heels, and when you were struggling a little bit, he didn’t hesitate to crouch down and help you, since your dress was making it difficult for you to see the straps on them. He stood back up, offering you his hand, and pulled you into a kiss the second you were steadily on your feet. He smiled, pulling back, eyes looking directly into yours.
“You’re gorgeous. I got so lucky.” 
You smiled, playing with the lapels of his tuxedo.
“You don’t look so bad yourself.” 
It was at this point that your roommate rolled her eyes, coughing to get you to acknowledge the fact that she was still here.
“Alright, break it up, or get out of here. Go have fun, okay?” 
She pulled you into a hug, whispering a reminder to be safe, as well as a reminder that she was so happy and proud of you. Before you left, she threatened Chris that if anything happened to you, she would murder him, before you pulled him out of the door, yelling back at her to stop scaring off your dates. The walk to the fraternity house was a good time for you and Chris to spend some quiet moments together. The sun had slowly started to go down, but it was still warm enough out for you to really enjoy it all. Your anxiety was fading as you walked with him, knowing that he wouldn’t let anybody do anything to hurt you. You tried to completely squash all the remnants of your anxiety, reminding yourself that you’re going to go enjoy a party with your best friend and your boyfriend all in one, and you were going to remember it this time.
You would be a liar to say that you didn’t feel the eyes on you, that you didn’t hear some people whispering about you, but most people were very kind, a lot of the other girls at the party complimenting how beautiful your dress looked. Chris reminded you every two minutes that you looked gorgeous, placing a kiss on your head or lips every thirty seconds. It really was one of the best times you had ever experienced at a fraternity house, and you were completely sober to enjoy it all. You were on such a high from having a good time with your boyfriend that you felt like you could be drunk, like nothing could bring you down, like nothing else mattered. Walking out of the party a little early, wanting to enjoy the rest of the night privately, you two began the walk to a common green on your campus. You checked your phone, smiling when you saw a text from your roommate. 
bestie <3 : i’m staying at my boyfriend’s tonight. figured you guys would want some alone time. i  love you!
You showed it to Chris, noting the way he smiled at you, laughing at his boyish reaction. You spent a little more time with each other, enjoying the general peace of each other’s presence, before getting up to go home. Walking back to your dorm, giggling like school children, with your hands clasped together, you felt like there could be nothing better than this. Confirming that Chris was with you as you entered the dorm building, you both moved quickly up the stairs, you having to pause to unlock the door. He pulled you into a kiss as you entered, shutting the door behind the two of you as you both stumbled towards your bed. You were standing in front of it, breaking the kiss to breathe, and to take your shoes off, as Chris’ hands now had one holding your side, and one toying with the top of your zipper.
“Can I take this off?” 
You nodded, kissing him passionately before answering.
“I only bought it for you to take it off.”
You could feel the shaky breath than left his mouth against your lips as he fumbled with the zipper slightly, finally getting it and gently but firmly pulling it down. The straps of your dress loosened around your shoulders but didn’t fall, right on the edge of slipping off, and you felt warm hands move up and slide them down, removing your dress completely as he helped you step out of it. You hadn’t needed to wear a bra with this dress, since it had internal padding, and you could hear another breath leave your boyfriend, though this time it wasn’t shaky, and instead, was one of awe. He’d seen your body before, as you’d changed with him near multiple times, and this wouldn’t be the first time that you had slept with each other, but Chris would swear that you got more beautiful the more he saw you. He adored you, every part, and he tipped your head back so that he could start placing blooming bruises on your neck, loving the way you reacted to his motions. 
Your knees eventually went weak, sitting down on the edge of the bed before the two of you moved fully onto it, albeit slightly ungracefully. You weren’t very adventurous people, keeping your nights together quite simple, as Chris hovered over you, placing kisses down your chest. You pulled him off only to remove his clothes, nearly tearing them in the process. Chris’ fingers played with the hem of your underwear, slowly removing them from your legs, continuing his trail of marks all the way down to your lower stomach, right above where you were growing desperate for his touch. You lifted your hips, a small gasp leaving your lips as he gently sucked another hickey, this time on your inner thigh. He left a couple more, running the tips of his fingers over your clit, alternating gentle taps on it to listen to your pretty whimpers. When you raised your hips again, whispering a plea for him to stop teasing, he took mercy on you, moving back up to kiss you again.
He smiled against your lips as he swallowed the moan that left your lips as he used his lips to heighten the pleasure of the firm movements and pressure on your clit, caused by his thumb. He messily made out with you, making the transition from simply touching you to fingering you, starting with just one, warming you up, loving the sounds you were making, feeling them vibrate against his mouth. It wasn’t long until your hips were pushing back to meet every movement he made, and he pushed in a second finger, beginning to curl them as he detached your lips, wanting to hear all the noises leaving your mouth. He didn’t stop moving his fingers, loving how beautiful you looked when your eyes were fluttering shut, your head slightly tipped back, and your back beginning to arch. He smiled at you, kissing your neck again.
“God, baby, you’re soaked.” 
You whined at his words, a little bit louder than you would have liked to, and Chris quieted you down by kissing you again, increasing the speed of his fingers, feeling your hips lift against his. It took all of his effort not to grind down against your touch, kissing you harder. He swallowed every moan and whimper that left your mouth, enjoying just how reactive you were. He kept his ministrations going until he felt you clenching around him, pulling off of your mouth to hear your moans quickly rise in pitch, before removing his touch. You whined, pushing your hips down to try and chase the feeling, but he didn’t let you.
“I want you to cum on my dick, not around my fingers.” 
You pulled his body impossibly closer to you, feeling him push his boxers down to relieve some of the immense tension in his pants. He removed them as quickly as possible, adjusting how he was on top of you, a hand coming up to run his thumb along the side of your face, holding your jaw, admiring just how pretty you were under him. He’d seen this sight before, but he would never get tired of it. He brought his hand back down to rub at your clit, giving you pleasure to distract from the slight pain of him slowly pushing into you. He kissed you deeply, not daring to move faster than you were ready for. He let out a deep groan when he bottomed out, feeling you echo a moan against his lips. He stayed as still as possible, fighting the urge to bury himself in you, giving you as much time as you needed to adjust to the stretch. As soon as you gave him the okay to move, his breathing was shaky, overwhelmed by just how good you felt around him.
“Oh my god, baby.”
You could only whimper in response, the drag of his cock against every perfect spot bringing you to tears of pleasure. You felt full, your sweet spot being abused as he slowly built up his pace, gaining speed. He was groaning into the side of your neck, his hips building a steady rhythm as you fell apart on his dick. He knew exactly what angle to hit, bringing back the stimulation on your clit. As he did so, he felt you tighten around him for a split second, gasping at the unexpected pleasure that rode through him, his hips jerking of their own accord before returning to the rhythm he had set for the two of you. As his perfectly angled thrusts gained a little bit more speed, you could feel your orgasm swirling in the pit of your stomach, what felt like a coil crunching down and getting ready to snap. Chris knew the signs of you being on the edge, and he added more pressure to your clit, feeling the way you were beginning to consistently clench around him, speaking into your ear.
“So good for me, baby, make me feel so good-” 
His voice broke against your ear, a whimper of his own slipping through as the rhythm of his hips began to falter. The praise that he kept trying to speak, the breathless “good girl” that slipped from his lips, did it for you. Your finish felt like it knocked the wind out of you, tightening around Chris’ dick, back arching harshly as you cried out his name. He completely lost control at this, hips desperately jerking as he chased his own release, you whining as you felt it inside of you. He was breathing heavily, but so were you, as you basked in the glow of your orgasms. After a couple of minutes, he slowly pulled out, whispering apologies as you winced in sensitivity. He kissed you to distract you, before grabbing some of the wipes off of your nightstand and beginning to gently wipe the evidence of your night off of your legs. You were exhausted from the party and now the sex, mustering up the energy to speak.
“I love you.” 
He pulled back, smiling at you.
“I love you more. Let me take care of you, okay?” 
His aftercare was short but sweet, rubbing your legs so that they hopefully wouldn’t ache too much in the morning, carrying you to the bathroom where he sat you down on the toilet, gently helping you and himself clean off with a damp washcloth after you peed. You were both spent, and a shower could wait until the morning, but at least this way you weren’t tired and gross. He had you back in bed quickly, but not before helping you into some soft clothes. He had a couple pairs of sweats, boxers, and shirts at your dorm, so he pulled clothing back on, pulling you into his arms and kissing the top of your head. You laid in comfortable silence before he spoke, the last thing that would be said before you fell asleep.
“I love that dress.”
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heartless-tate · 2 days
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High lady. | High Lord Eris X F reader
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Summary:
A/N: Hellooo my fireflies! I’ve been thirsting for Eris these past few weeks so why not write for him? I can’t believe I ever didn’t like this man 😫. Also for my male readers out there, if you’d like me to rewrite this or any of my other fics with a male reader, just ask! 💕
3k words
warnings: cussing, allusions to sex, use of y/n, slight angst, she/her pronouns
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There were no words to describe your shock at seeing the royal invite to the ball. You weren’t high fae. You were a simple, low class librarian. Your name was written in beautiful, classy cursive. A handwriting you recognized immediately. This was handwritten by Eris. Eris Vanserra. Memories flooded your mind.
Running through the gardens, dogs barking behind you playfully. You didn’t have time to react before a body landed on you. Eris. He tackled you to the dirt, his hand was cradling your head to prevent it banging against the floor as he straddled your back. His hounds crowded the two of you, stomping and making noises with excitement.
“Got you little fox!” Eris announced, hugging you from behind.
“Not fair! You said you’d give me a head start.” You pouted. Eris’s laughter filled the air, creating a warm atmosphere. His arms wrapped around your middle and he pulled you into a hug. His embrace was warm and comforting in the cool autumn air.
Cauldron. That was so long ago. Eris was older by you than a long shot, but at that time, you were young. Nineteen years old. Young and innocent. He was also slightly more innocent then, playing with you and entertaining your young soul. Your face flushed a slight shade of pink, and you shook your head. You remember your crush on him. How could you not have one though? Everyone warned you. And you didn’t listen. He was everything a girl at that age would’ve wanted. Beautiful, handsome, smart, experienced, and a prince.
It was only when you discovered Eris was to be betrothed to some high fae daughter in his father’s court, did your little world come crashing down with reality. You were a peasant compared to him. And he likely saw you as nothing but entertainment. So you distanced yourself. You stopped accepting his invites to dinner with his family, you didn’t go out with him anymore. Of course, you couldn’t bear to completely cut him off. So you still would accept his occasional invite to walk with him in the forests with his hounds. He always told you they missed you. Now days, the walks were somewhat awkward. They happened every few months.
The last one was 6 months ago. You always thought you were doing better, you worked at a library, and cared for precious books. You lived in a relatively small apartment, but it was okay. You were grateful, you had a roof on your head and food on your plate. Things had changed since your last walk with him.
Beron was dead. On Eris’s wedding night, before the marriage had been officiated he had dueled Beron to a battle of death. Hundreds at the wedding had witnessed as Eris brutally slayed his father, and placed the crown on his head. Declaring himself as high lord. He released himself of the marriage, and granted his fiancé permission to marry her true lover. When the news escaped to the streets and you heard, you couldn’t help but be nervous. You realized, Eris would be to busy with his court to come on walks with you anymore. And that made you realize that your feelings weren’t gone. You had never gotten over him.
Tonight was a royal ball. You remembered Eris had always begged his father to let you attend the dances and balls, but Beron always refused. Saying trash like you should never be seen with royalty. Eris, stayed by your side though. He’d sneak from the dances and find you, and would dance in the silent night with you. And you had no idea why Eris was inviting you to this ball. Was it pity? Did he want you to experience something nice once in your life? What would you even wear? You certainly didn’t have royal attire.
You ripped open the letter with your nails, admiring the wax seal of a little fox on it. You opened it to a small card inside. Eris’s handwriting.
Little fox,
I’d be honored for you to attend the royal autumn ball tonight with me. A carriage will wait for you at your apartment at noon. Don’t neglect my dogs of your attention any longer.
Love, Eris.
You giggled. You felt like a school girl. You could feel the heat on your face. You admired his familiar handwriting. It was neat and lovely in every sense. A dried viola fell into your lap when you opened the card further. Memories of him teaching you cursive in the gardens made you smile. You stood, grasping the flower, and pulled out the small box you kept of every letter he had ever sent you. Whenever Beron would try to restrict him from seeing you, it didn’t stop him from convincing his maids or servants to get his letters to you. You hadn’t received a letter since his last request to walk with you. The box was filled with the dried flowers he’d always sent with them.
How could you go? What would you wear? You approached your closet. And then you remembered something.
“Eris- I can’t wear this. This is too- too, royal.” You squeaked, admiring the beautiful dress he had just gifted you.
“Wear it. It matches the suit my father made me wear. Let’s dance, little fox.” He purred, pushing hair out of your face. Once the dress was on, he pulled you close to him in the empty streets on the Autumn Court and guided you in a slow dance, uncaring of the lack of music. Or the fact he was missing a royal ball.
You didn’t waste time in finding the box tucked away safely under your bed, and pulling it out. You opened the box, staring at the gorgeous forgotten dress. You had only worn it the last night he had danced with you.
This would work. Looks like all the dances you learned from books would pay off tonight.
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Music from the orchestra blasted loudly. You entered the throne room, slightly late. But nobody cared. You were fashionably late- you had to find a mask. It was a masquerade after all. And Eris’s letter was a little bit close to time so, nobody could blame you. People danced in sync all over the room, dresses of different colors swaying. It was so fascinating. You couldn’t help but be mesmerized. Sure, most of these people were stuck up cunts, but they were beautiful, and they knew it too. You walked down the the grand stair case, eyes greedily taking in everything.
And then they caught on him. He sat on the throne, auburn hair messy as if he had ran his hands through it more then once tonight. The crown on his head was slightly crooked, giving him an uncaring look as high fae of all kinds greeted him. His mask was the color of burning fire, gold lace trimming it. He seemed bored, uninterested in this whole party. And he looked every bit of the High Lord you knew he would be.
You didn’t have the guts to greet him. You couldn’t. He had invited you out of perhaps pity. There were clear boundaries you were sure of. And you knew approaching the high lord as a peasant would break every single one of those boundaries. You could already see high fae turning their noses up at you as you walked by.
You approached the giant banquet table, observing the various foods. They were all favorites of yours. Maybe you just had a fancy food taste. You grabbed a glass of fae wine off of a servant’s tray, happy to indulge yourself in high quality wine that you didn’t have to pay for. You decided to eat after you danced.
You turned to face the dance floor. You watched the first waltz come to an ends, couples departing to find new partners. You swirled your wine in your glass, smelled it and then took a taste. It was glorious. Aged, and woodsy. You figured the bottle was easily in the three hundreds. Who cared? You didn’t have to pay for it. You snickered to yourself.
“Dance with me?” A coy voice purred beside you.
You turned, seeing a gentle around your age. High fae. And he was still asking to dance. Odd. His mask was black with silver lace. He wore a simple black tux. His hair was a dark brown, slicked with gel. He had a warm smile. He was handsome. You took his outstretched hand.
“Why not?” You replied, setting your wine glass down on a servant’s tray. The male smirked with arrogance, and swooped you to the dance floor. Music begun, and he started the dance.
“I’m Silas.” He murmured, twirling you. You nodded, having no problem in keeping up with the complex strides of this particular dance.
“Y/n” You responded. His eyes glinted.
“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl like you.” Silas said. He started to move faster, as if seeing how well you could keep up. And you did. Having no trouble at all.
You smiled warmly. This man was nice. You could see yourself with him. But it felt like something was missing. Like a hole in your heart.
“Thank you, Silas.” You purred back, starting to lead the dance. You guided it into a more complex rhythm, going along with the music, but ultimately making it more difficult. You giggled when he tripped over his own foot but caught himself. He glared at you.
“You dance awfully good for a commoner.” He huffed out, twirling you again.
“Having trouble keeping up?” You taunted playfully, not caring of his snarky remark. He was embarrassed. You could tell by how his eyes were roaming the people that had take to watch the both of you dance, interested in seeing how long you could rule the dance floor, he was embarrassed. Your eyes roamed the people. You could feel a familiar sense of someone watching. Your eyes found Eris. He was no longer listening to the fae beside him. His amber eyes bored into you. When you caught eye contact, he smirked. His legs spread as he leaned further into his throne. His eyebrow was cocked, his long talons tapping against the throne.
Cauldron. You had forgot how breathtakingly gorgeous he was. And sexy. You felt your face flush.
A snarl distracted you from him. Silas’s hands clutched your hips.
“Do not mock me.” He growled quietly in your ear. The music’s rhythm went faster, and the dance along with it. The curious fae quickly started dancing again, embarrassed at how they were so mesmerized by a commoner.
You went to take another step, but Silas went crashing to the floor. You watched in shock as he slid on the floor, his eyes wide with fury and embarrassment. His face heated with embarrassment. He looked up at you mouth open as if he was about to blame you, but his eyes caught on something behind you. Or rather, someone.
You turned slowly to see the high lord standing in his full glory behind you. His sharp cunning eyes squinted and mouth pulled into a smirk. He observed the male on the floor before looking at the people around you both. Then his eyes landed on you. You were awestruck by him for a minute- before you realized he was royalty. You started to bow but an invisible force stopped you. Your eyes narrowed in confusion before Eris bowed in front of you.
The High Lord just bowed in front of you. You. A peasant. Before you could say anything he lifted his hand to you.
“Grant me the pleasure of a dance?” He said, loud and clear. Gods you missed his voice. Yours ears picked up multiple gasps of shock. You heard a start of a growl before seeing Eris’s eyes glare into Silas behind you. You heard Silas scrambling away, knowing his place. Eris’s eyes turned back to you. He stayed in a bowed down position, hand waiting for yours. You swallows your shock. So be it. This very much may be the last dance you and him share, and you would take it.
Eris smiled softly when he felt the familiar embrace of your hand on his. His hand wrapped around yours, completely swallowing it. You hadn’t even realized the music had stopped until now. He motioned with his free hand for it to begin again. Fae around you scampered to start dancing, but all of their eyes were on you. On him. And his eyes were on you. And that’s all that mattered.
His free hand moved to your hip, grasping it gently with respect. He slowly moved to start the dance, holding you close. You didn’t know what to say or do other than to follow his lead. You didn’t even realize your mouth was gaping open.
“Little fox, you look like a fish gasping for air.” Eris teased in your ear, and you quickly shut your mouth.
“Sorry-“
“Don’t apologize. You never have to apologize to me.” He replied, smoothly. Gods. It was as if you were 19 again and you were dancing in the empty village with him. His long nails drew circles on your hip as you slowly started ti advance in the pace of the music. He kept up with ease, and you the same.
“Your hounds miss you.” Eris murmured, leaning his head down enough to kiss your forehead. It took every ounce of self control to not accidentally trip in shock.
“My hounds? They’re not mine. They’re yours!“ You started.
“Yes, they are, little fox. You helped me save and raise Sadie’s pups. If it wasn’t for you most of them would’ve died during birth. They are every bit of yours as they are mine.” He responded, pulling you closer. You knew better then to continue this fight with him. He was stubborn. And you knew if you tried to refuse again you’d probably have a pack of hounds at your apartment door tomorrow- out of spite.
“Whatever.” You grumbled defeatedly, shaking your head. He chuckled. His laugh was deeper now. You could smell the envy of other women around you. You wondered if they knew there wasn’t anything to be jealous of.
“So..how’s being High Lord?” You asked, unsure of what to talk about now. Eris frowned with a playful pout.
“Lonely. I’m sure the hounds would agree too. But don’t worry about that. That’ll change very, very soon.”
You weren’t quite sure what Eris was getting on to now. He always spoke in riddles. You sighed. Before you could re-question him, he started talking again.
“How has my little fox been?” Eris divulged.
You blushed. He had always had a knack for that dumb nickname. You were glad people couldn’t hear your conversation. The current dance came to an end and Eris wasted no time in pulling you into another. He knew you would have no problems keeping up.
“I’ve been good.” You responded. You looked up at him. He had gotten taller. And bigger. Maybe it was the high lord magic that transferred to him after Beron died or something. You weren’t sure. But he towered over you, creating a comical size difference. He gave you a toothy playful smile. He was always so carefree around you. You loved it. You loved him.
“You look lovely in that dress.”
“You bought it.” You quipped back at him.
“I have such good taste don't I?” He countered.
You couldn’t help but giggled looking away. The music slowed and you knew this was coming to an end. And gods you didn’t want it to end. His eyes softened as if he too was thinking the same. He grasped you tighter, pulling you closer, your bodies left no space between each others. He leaned down and inhaled your scent.
“Gods. I missed you. I missed your scent. The way you laugh. Talking with you- I missed it all.” Eris started. He held you tighter when you tried to pull away, confused.
“Don’t move away. Let me enjoy this Y/n.” He whispered, head going to the crook of your neck as he slowed the dance, moving with rhythm to the orchestra’s music. You realized how desperate and clingy his hood on you seemed now. As if he had missed you as much as you missed him.
Fuck boundaries. You couldn’t care if you were a peasant compared to him right now. You let your inner thoughts win as you tightly clutched at him. You didn’t wanna let go of him. You let your head lean against his chest, relaxing into the calm and slow dance. You knew fae were gawking at you both. And neither of you cared. Eris seemed shocked at your return of his embrace. The music slowed to a stop, and so did you both in the middle of the floor. Eris gently pulled away, staring at you with such adoring eyes. A sharp contrast to who he was in front of these people. His eyes found their way to your lips. He looked back up at you, a pleading look on his face. You understood what he wanted.
His hand clutched at the back of your head as your lips met. His were soft. It was the most gentle and loving kiss. You couldn’t give a flying fuck about the jealous and envious fae. Not just women. Both males and females snickering in jealousy. Eris pulled away, eyes soft. He took in the sight of you.
He didn’t waste time in pulling you in for a second kiss. This one wasn’t gentle. It was hot. Aggressive. He kissed you as if there was a fire in his bones and you were the only thing that could sooth it. His teeth gently nipped and sucked on your bottom lip. You returned it. His hand clutched at the back of your head, talons tangled in your hair. His other one clutched at your hip and roamed to your lower back. Your hands clutched at the front of his dress shirt. When you pulled away gasping for air, Eris had the biggest smile on his face. His eyes roamed your face again. You lips were swollen and pink from him. You were panting and looking at him as if he was everything. And he returned the same look. He tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear before cupping your jaw.
“Don’t make me miss you anymore. Stay with me. I’ll give you everything you could dream of. You can be my high lady. Anything- anything you want.” He begged, eyes pleading. You knew he wasn’t lying.
“Eris..”
Eris swear his heart stopped with the way you said his name. He’s positive he would die right here on this floor at your knees if you rejected him. You were all he ever wanted.
“You’re everything I could dream of.” You whispered to him. Eris took in a gasp of air, not realizing he had been holding it. Relief flooding his body. And then pure love. He grabbed your hand before you could say anything and guided you up the stairs the the throne. He turned, facing the crowd with you. His hand placed on your lower back.
The whole crowd of fae stared in confusion and shock. No idea of what was about to happen.
“Well? What are you waiting for?” Eris barked. “Show some respect to your high lady.”
His voice boomed across the room, gasps eliciting from the crowd. And then, they all bowed. You stood in front of the throne, watching as they all bowed to their knees. The scent of fear and confusion flooded from the fae.
Eris smirked before turning around back to you. He knew that despite your anxieties, you were made for this. Just your presence demanded attention from others. He knew you were his. His eyes shined with pure male pride as he removed the autumn court crown from his head, and gently placed it on yours. You watched as he bowed down on his knee, paying respect to you. His queen. You relaxed. Hundreds of high fae all bowed down to you. Your man bowed down to you. You tipped your head up with a smirk.
Eris grasped your hand and kissed your ring finger with a possessive glare at it. As if promising himself it would soon have a ring around it. He stood, and walked you to the throne. He held your hand as you sat down on it, crossing your legs. He stood beside you, eyes peering to the fae. He looked to you. Gods you were gorgeous. He couldn’t help the possessiveness in him that filled to the brim at seeing you where you finally belonged. He had waited so long to be able to do this.
“The masquerade is over. Get out.” He growled to the people, his eyes never leaving you. He didn’t bother turning around to ensure the people left. He could hear them rushing to get out.
He was gonna fuck you on your rightful throne.
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lowkeyerror · 21 hours
Text
The Family Business Ch.13
WandaNat x Reader
Word Count: 1.2k
Ch. Notes: short
Summary: Fisk gains a new unexpected ally that deeply affects a member of the family.
An: Short filler Ch. but with a warning. Sorry for the mistakes, just wanted to get something out for yall. Also fear not, we will be getting the very essential "date" chapter soon, but first some world building yknow.
Series Masterlist | Masterlist
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With the way life had been treating you lately, the ups and downs, you felt as though this should be harder. You felt like there was a funk or depression that should be settling into your mind, but there wasn’t. There should’ve been anxiety building up, but all you felt was calm.
After the beating you suffered you thought you’d be more on edge. However as your body healed itself, you found yourself at ease. There was something smug about your survival. Perhaps it had to do with the blossoming relationship that you had been reveling in.
Throughout the years you had prided yourself on changing and morphing into someone with a tough exterior and an even stronger interior. While you never regretted becoming that way, you admit that in it you lost some of your personality.
You were so much more than a victim of the abuse you had suffered at the hands of your mother. As you grew, after separating yourself from her you were set on not ever being a victim again that you hid everything that you thought made you vulnerable.
Your likes and leisurely activities all of sudden seemed like weak points. The only one who was able to make you let your guard down was Pietro.
Now however, having Wanda and Natasha by your side, you find yourself on a path of rediscovery. You feel like you’re coming into yourself again. The women are the perfect models of work life balance and you think it’s everything you’ve been missing.
The can go into the office work diligently and complete their jobs, but also clock out and relax. The enjoy themselves and they enjoy you.
Wanda personally loves seeing you open up a bit more, after seeing how much of yourself you pushed down. Natasha finds herself collecting bits and pieces of information about you that she plans to commit to memory.
In the very back of your mind you think about how quiet the streets have been. You expected Fisk to brag about your beating just like he did with Dragos. However there had been no commotion, and the intel that you were getting didn’t indicate any attacks soon.
It was eerie and you would've dwelled on it in the past, but Natasha and Wanda reassured you that everything was under control. Natasha constantly let you go over her team strategies to show you she was utilizing the soldiers given to her.
They tried to keep you out of the office for your recovery, but you just found yourself working from home until your ankle was healed. As soon as you were able, you stepped back into the office.
While you had made nearly a full recovery, you could not say the same for Dragos. It pained you hear that doctors have reported a stagnation in his progress. Flora relied that certain doctors were starting to suggest pulling the plug as a feasible option. The entire family was adamant to oppose any talk of such actions.
“Baby?”
Your eyes leave your compute to see Wanda and Natasha entering your office.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?”
Natasha speaks, “We were wondering if you wanted to grab dinner tonight?”
You nod, “For sure.”
Wanda clarifies a bit, “Like a date, Y/n.”
Your eyes widen a bit, but you nod excitedly at the prospect, “Even better, of course.
“We’ll go home, get ready and go from there?” Nat suggests.
“Can’t wait,” a small smile plays on your lips.
Everything about this has felt casual and you love that, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t want to have the typical romantic experiences. This would amongst the first few dates you three had gone on.
Pietro storms into the office breaking up the relaxed atmosphere they had been sitting in. The man looks like he is complete emotional distress.
“I need to talk to Y/n.”
His sister wants to question him, but with one shake of your head she pulls her wife out of the office.
“What’s wrong, Piet?”
He doesn’t hold it together much longer as he signals he needs a hug. You stand up quickly and wrap your arms around him. You feel his tears hit his shoulder and admittedly, your worry multiplies.
“Monica,” he says in his broken tone.
You rub his back soothingly, “What about her?”
He pulls away, “ Two months we lasted, Y/n. I had asked her to be official she said yes, but she’s ended things with me.”
“Oh Piet.”
He shakes his head, “It’s worse than that. She indebted to Fisk, Y/n. She owes him money and favors, she never told me because he’s never come to collect. But now, he’s cashing in.”
You frown deeply, “So she’s protecting you.”
“I need to be protecting her,” he grits his teeth.
You feel for your friend, you don’t believe you have the right words to bring him comfort, “ But you don’t know how.”
Pietro has a new fire in his eyes, “With a bullet in his skull. He’s tried to take everything from me. Papa, you, and now the love of my life.”
You knew the man could be hotheaded at times, and for once you knew he had every right to be. Yet, you couldn’t justify him doing something irrational.
“When the time comes, he will be dealt with,” you say.
Pietro shakes his head, “Nothings happened since your attack, everything is settling. This war will drag on and on if we let it."
“We can’t tear apart the city for no reason, Piet. It’s a bad look from us,” you try to reason with him.
“I know that, but it’s not what I want to hear.”
He slumps down on your office couch with his head in his hands. You sit next to him and rub his shoulder.
“How about we do something tonight, like old times? Something so that we can feel normal for once,” you suggest.
“I can’t even text her because what if she becomes a pawn in this scheme,” he sighs.
“ We’re hanging out tonight. To take your mind off of this, even if it’s only for a moment,” you speak sincerely to him.
He nods slowly in agreement, “Fine, but only because I don’t want to be alone and maybe I’ve missed you. Wanda too, I miss when timed were simpler.”
You get a little excited, “Tonight, me, you, Wanda, Natasha we can do something together. It’ll be reminiscent of old times.”
Pietro agrees and you let him stay in the office as you work. You texted Wanda and Natasha filling them on the details. They were understanding about having to cancel your plans. Natasha also took note of Monica as one of Fisk’s new allies.
The three of you brainstorm to come up with some plans to help your friend for the time being. The night still had promise and none of you wanted to waste it.
Unfortunately for you all, the sir was about become ten times more suffocating and no one would see it coming.
Fisk knew you all would become complacent sooner or later, drop you guards prematurely. He was watching unfold and getting ready to strike again, however this time, he planned for the kill shot.
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Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst @dorabledewdroop @sapphic-simp4015 @natty-taffy @justarandomreaderxoxo @mmmmokdok @tarathia @bgwlsmahf25 @lezzylover @og-kxsh-420 @vanessashands @untoldreader @sxlfishbrokenheart @marvelgirlx @elle161989
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kolsmikaelson · 7 hours
Text
— ART DONALDSON NSFW ALPHABET
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NOTES — been deep in my mike faist era for the longest time and i’m so obsessed w art it’s bad, so here we are! hope you enjoy <3.
WARNINGS — 18 + content mdni, fem!reader, not proofread
join my taglist or follow @rodrickhefley to see when i post
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
needy as fuck. he’ll grab his shirt that had been tossed to the floor to clean you up quickly before tossing it back onto the floor and just wrapping himself around you, keeping his head on your chest.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
he looooves his arms, he always liked them, but maybe how much you like them is what made them his favorite. he’s obsessed with your legs, he loves the way they feel when they’re wrapped around his head while he’s eating you out or how they feel wrapped around his waist when he’s pounding into you.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
he loves to cum on your tits. it’s his favorite place to cum, other than inside of you.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
the two of you met in college, when he was much less experienced, so one time when patrick is visiting he recruits him into teaching him how to fuck you better. art knew he was alright but he wanted to be great for you.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
not super experienced, sure he’d fooled around some before he met you but that’s about it. with some help from patrick he definitely knows what he’s doing.
F = Favorite position ( goes without saying)
cowgirl. he’s a tit guy and loves that he can see your tits bouncing in his face while you’re riding him.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
it can go either way, usually he’s a little on the goofy side, but sometimes, after a bad match he’s not in the mood to be goofy.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
not clean shaved by any means but he keeps everything under control.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
the most romantic. showering you with love and affection is all that he wants to do <3.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
used to jerk off so often, but as the two of you got older he did it less and less but maybe that’s because you were always there to do it for him.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
praise kink (giving or receiving), size kink, spit kink, little bit of a mommy kink if he’s feeling really needy.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
his dorm, his car (but only if parked in a decently secluded place), or the shower.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
winning gets him going, the adrenaline from the game and from winning gets the best of him every time.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
no choking, you specifically, every once in a while he’d be okay with you lightly squeezing his throat while you’re on top of him riding him.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
definitely prefers giving, he’d spend as long as you let him finding out what makes you tick, exploring every inch of your cunt, but he’d never turn down a blowjob if offered.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
both! but usually fast and rough.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
he loves them. a quickie before a match or before you leave for class, always put you both in a good mood.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
yes and no, it just depends on what you or he wanted to try. but he’d always at least consider it for a while if you were to ask to try something new.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
2-3 rounds usually, sometimes it could be 4. he lasts a decent while, as long as he gets you off first then he’ll let himself cum, though sometimes he’s cum in his pants when he’s eating you out but really it’s a win-win situation.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
he’ll use your vibe on you every once in a while but usually he’s not huge on toy usage. but he’s not completely against it either.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
he gets better at it over time but you’re usually the one doing all the teasing instead of him.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
so loud, he’s always whimpering and whining and moaning in your ear.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
just like patrick, he’d try and feel put how you felt about having a threesome with patrick, because at the end of the day, whether they’d admit it or not they’re not complete without the other but that doesn’t mean he loves you any less, because trust that man to be absolutely obsessed with you.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
a good 5-6 inches soft, and pretty girthy too. and he knows just how to use it.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
pretty high. he’s obsessed with you and obsessed with fucking you.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
oh he’s out like a light. his eyes are droopy when he’s cleaning you up but the moment his head falls onto your chest, he’s done for.
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© kolsmikaelson : please do not copy, repost, or modify any of my content.
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sunkissed-zegras · 2 days
Note
nika is so hates everyone but soft only for my gf like cmon
oh for sure, she is like down bad for her girlfriend ALWAYS
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─ word count | 736
─ warnings | mean nika to everyone else, sweet nika to you (duh), paige being dramatic, nothing else
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NIKA LAID ON the couch, scrolling on TikTok after a particularly hard practice.
Geno had them go a little harder today because he wanted to push them. She didn't blame him, obviously there was nothing wrong with wanting to push his players to be the best ─ however, it hasn't even been an hour since practice ended and no one had left the gym because of how sore they were.
Nika's muscles already felt like they were screaming at every movement she made. She winced as she shifted on the couch, trying to find a more comfortable position.
"Nika," She heard someone called as she whipped her head to see who was talking. Behind her was Paige, a frown on her face as she winced to sit on the couch next to her. "What are you doing after this?"
"What are you doing after this?" She repeated at Paige, annoyance in her experience. "Going to sleep and showering, obviously. What could I possibly do other than that?"
"I was just asking, jeez." Paige rolled her eyes as she yawned, leaning backward. "Can you get me some water from the kitchen, I can't feel my legs."
"No," Nika said plainly as she continued to scroll on TikTok, keeping her gaze locked on her screen. Paige just glared at her but before she could respond, Nika's phone begin to ring.
Nika's face beamed as she quickly answered it. "Hey, baby. What's up?" Her voice was a stark contrast to how she was talking Paige just moments ago ─ it was soft and warm, and especially loving.
"Yeah, sorry. Practice ran a little late, my love but I can still come." Nika sat up on the couch as quickly as she could, pressing the phone in between her ear and her shoulder. "You sound hungry, baby. Yeah, no it's okay what do you want?"
Paige audibly gasped as she continued glaring at her friend, earning a pointed look from Nika. "Okay, of course. I will, don't worry baby. I'll be there in like... 20 minutes? Yeah, okay. I love you more, princess. Bye,"
Nika hung up the phone with a smile, her attention fully back on Paige, who was now looking at her with a mixture of disbelief and annoyance.
"What was that?" Paige asked as she folded her arms on her chest, irritation on her face.
"What was what?" Nika replied with the same tone as Paige's, although there was a amused twinkle in her eyes.
"You were just all sweet and loving on the phone, but you couldn't even get me a glass of water that's like, two feet away from you?" Paige huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.
Nika chuckled, shaking her head. "Sorry, dude. You know I love you, but you're capable of getting your own water. She hasn't had food all day cus she was studying and it's not even that far, like 20 minutes away from here."
"20 minutes?" Paige repeated in disbelief as she shook her head. "You are down bad, my friend."
"I don't care, she's my girlfriend." Nika responded as she put on her slides with a groan, getting up from the couch. Nika stretched her arms above her head, feeling the stiffness in her muscles protest. "Besides, it's not like I have a habit of ignoring my friends for her. You know that."
Paige chuckled, her annoyance melting away as she stood up, too. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm just messing with you. Go, be with your princess."
"I hate you, you know that?" Nika glared at her as Paige put up her hands in mock defense.
"You did that one to yourself, buddy I heard you call her that." Paige laughed as she watched Nika put on her backpack. "Wait until I tell everyone you call Y/N princess, they'll never look at you the same.
"Yeah and then I'll tell them about the time you called that girl-"
"Hey! Hey, that's different." Paige interrupted, her cheeks flushing slightly as she waved her hands frantically.
Nika chuckled, shaking her head. "Alright, alright, I won't spill your secrets. But you better not spill mine either."
"Deal," Paige said, holding out her fist for a bump. Nika bumped it with a smile before slinging her backpack over her shoulder.
"See you tomorrow, P," Nika said, heading towards the door.
"Yep, see ya," Paige replied, waving as Nika left the room.
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↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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fixingoff · 3 days
Text
delivery boy - lee donghyuck
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SYNOPSIS working at an internship has you drained every day, and 5'oclock couldn't come any sooner. you’re hungry, craving korean fried chicken, and might be a bit tipsy. so you use your last bit of money to order some food with your roommate, but who knew the person delivering it would be so handsome?
THEME fluff crack one shot
CONTAINS mullet!haechan, delivery boy!haechan, gender neutral reader, overworked and tired reader, roommate!doyoung, , mentions of jungwoo, hint of fluff, reader and doyoung get drunk, reader and doyoung get sad but nothing serious, setting is in south korea, it's a one shot so it's fast paced lol
WORD COUNT: 2k
Your head was throbbing, and your feet were burning.
You couldn't believe how tired you were, but you were glad it was the weekend. Meaning? You were able to sleep in, drink, and 'pig out' with your roommate Doyoung, who was working in the same internship as you, only he seemed to be in a better headspace than you.
The first thing you did when you got home was take a shower and have a little cry session. That is until you got shampoo in your eye, and took it as a sign that maybe your crying session was over.
After winding down with some tea and whatever movie was playing on live TV, you hear the keys rattling against the door to your shared apartment, and in walks Doyoung with his book bag in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other.
A smile was spreading on your lips, seeing your roommate making your day a bit better. "Hey," You began, your head leaning against the couch for support. "How was work? What do you have there?"
Doyoung let out a breathy laugh before speaking. "Oh the usual, other interns trying to hit on me," He shook his head. "I bought some beer after work. Figured we can start the weekend properly."
You smiled.
A few drinks in, you were feeling the effects. You weren't a lightweight, but you haven't eaten anything all day. At the mention of that, Doyoung scolded you before walking away to call your favorite fried chicken place that you mentioned you were craving.
You thanked him, very grateful to have a roommate like Doyoung. You've noticed how different your work experiences were from each other, and you blamed it on his outgoing and positive attitude. You weren't exactly a ray of sunshine, but you could also maintain the attitude Doyoung had ... on certain days.
"I'm telling you, ____!" Doyoung slurred his words, the effects of the alcohol hitting him only 10 minutes after ordering the food that was expected to arrive in almost 20 minutes. "Only 6 more months of this crappy internship, and we can go anywhere we want!" He exclaimed, his long arm wrapping around your shoulders with his hand patting the right one.
All you could do was throw your head back and laugh. "Anywhere!" You exclaimed in the same tone as he did, your glass shots clinking together as you downed whatever tequila bottle you found in your kitchen.
You weren't a constant drinker, neither was Doyoung. But when you both drank, it was a bit heavy. Nothing you both couldn't handle though.
14 minutes.
An agreement was made and you both decided to cut back on the drinking until the food got here. It was unlikely that whoever delivered your food would care if you were drunk, seeing as they don't get paid enough to care. However, that wouldn't be a good first impression you would have made.
While snacking on saltine crackers, you and Doyoung began to talk about plans for tomorrow. You suggested shopping, he asked for what. He suggested baking, you pointed out that the firefighters wouldn't appreciate that.
"How about just playing video games with Jungwoo?" You suggested, and you couldn't help but see Doyoung's eyes light up at the suggestion. He liked hanging out with Jungwoo, and he liked playing video games. It was the perfect combination really.
7 minutes
You spent a few minutes choosing something to watch when the food gets here, whether it be something you both will actually watch, or something you have on in the background as you both mindlessly scroll on your phones and occasionally send each other a TikTok.
The ultimate and final decision was to have something on in the background, to no one's surprise. There hasn't been anything good on TV for years, and it doesn't look like there'll be something good anytime soon.
"You know," Doyoung began, and you tilted your head towards him to signal that you were listening. "I'm thinking about quitting my internship."
Your head shot up. "Why? I thought you liked it there?"
He hummed and burped into his hand. "I tolerate it. I don't think they see me as a potential candidate; just eye candy." Doyoung muttered as he began to twiddle his fingers.
He wasn't wrong. You've noticed a majority of the women at work drooling over him, only choosing to put them in their group projects because they wanted something to look at, not because they saw genuine potential in him.
"You have potential," You comforted him, your hands finding his hair as you began to play with it as a way of consoling him. "They don't see it. It's like you said, it's just six more months. Don't quit, but don't pressure yourself to keep going and overworking yourself for people who only see you in that way." You smiled at him, and he smiled back.
The doorbell rang, and both of your heads shot towards the door.
"Thank goodness, I'm starving."
You heard Doyoung behind you, and you took it upon yourself to grab your wallet and head towards the door. As soon as you stood up however, everything was spinning. You grabbed onto the wall for support, hoping that whoever was on the other side of the door wouldn't notice the state that you're in.
Upon opening the door, a bit too wide, you were met with a rather attractive man. He was pretty and attractive. Is that even a thing? Of course it is.
His eyes were wide, they had a bit of a sparkle to them. His hair was short on some sides, and long on other sides. His lips were pink and hydrated, you wanted to ask for his lip routine.
"Order for Doyoung?" He spoke, knocking you out of your trance.
Right, you're not supposed to be checking out the delivery guy. You're just supposed to take the food and think about him while you lay in bed at night.
"Right yes," You spoke, rummaging around your purse for whatever form of money you could find. After paying, you attempted to take the food. You couldn't trust your vision, seeing as when you attempted to grab the bag of food you were way off. Your hand was practically just swinging around the air, and you weren't sure if he was feeling annoyed or amused.
He let out a small chuckle. "How about I just put it on the table right here?" He extended his arm out to the small table by the door, instinctively looking past you and into your apartment. His smile faded.
"Thank you," You slurred a bit, so you cleared your throat. "Me and my roommate aren't exactly in a sober state right now. Probably should've waited." You finished, your whole body being supported by the door that was pretty much now wide open.
His smile returns. "Roommate?" You nodded rather quickly, not out of hopes that he'll potentially ask you out, but because your movements were a bit hard to control on account of your drunken state.
"Doyoung," You both heard behind you, the only person looking at your roommate being the handsome stranger on your doorstep for a bit longer than he probably should have been. "I ordered the food, thank you!" He exclaimed, his words also slurring and jumbling into each other.
"Haechan," He spoke, and you swore you felt your heart beat faster once figuring out his name. "You're welcome." Haechan finished, his attention now towards your drunken state once more.
Cute, he thought.
Haechan cleared his throat, snapping you out of admiration towards him. "What's your name?"
You thought for a bit, wondering if it was a friendly gesture, a conversation starter, or his attempt to begin flirting. Or none. "My name is ____." You said, your words becoming a bit more clear as your way of trying to look cool in front of Haechan.
As if you weren't grabbing onto the door of your shared apartment for stability.
Your mouth spoke for you before your brain could process what you were saying. "Can I have your number? You're kind of, well, attractive, and pretty. I'm not sure if that makes sense."
Being drunk was a blessing and a curse for you.
Blessing? It was a good stress reliever.
Curse? What just happened.
There was an awkward moment of silence, and for a second you thought he walked off as his way of rejecting you.
Rather when you looked up, he had his arm stretched out with a piece of paper and something written on it. He had a cheeky smile on his face. It wasn't cocky or anything, rather a satisfaction type of smile.
"Text me if you can," He began, and you took another look at him. His shirt said a different name than the one he gave Doyoung earlier. Donghyuck. Haechan. Nickname? Maybe. "I'll be waiting for your text."
You barely had time to process what happened before he grabbed your hand, placing the paper in it with a smile. He walked away, and you couldn't help but watch him walk away.
Behind you, you heard Doyoung grab the bag of food with food before sighing. "Have to do everything around here don't I?" He whined, and you slapped his shoulder.
By the time you looked back, Donghyuck was gone.
After two hours of eating, scrolling through your phones and TikTok sharing, you finally built up the courage to text him. Add the alcohol and your roommate's relentless and constant pressuring, you hurriedly pulled out your phone and typed in New Message on your phone.
xxx-xxx-xxx : donghyuck? haechan? which one do people call youu?
You threw your phone almost immediately, already assuming the worst, such as he gave you a fake number. Or maybe he was already taken, and this number is the one from his partner.
Doyoung was no help either, teasing you by saying that Haechan probably blocked you by now, that he's laughing at you in a group chat, or that someone paid him to do this.
You were sober enough to throw a pillow at him and walk to your room, much better than you could've a couple of hours ago. It was almost 2 in the morning. You were full and on the verge of a knockout, so you bid each other a goodnight, both of you equally dreading the mess you'll have to clean up in the morning.
While laying in bed, scrolling on your phone, you received a message.
xxx-xxx-xxx : you can call me wtv you want :)
Oh?
That sentence alone made you blush and kick your feet as if you were back in high school, and you came down to reality once you realized what you were doing over a man you've only known for a few hours. Not even 24, not even 12. 8 hours at most.
The texting went on for a while, messages filled with mindless flirting and usual getting to know each other questions. You opened up to him rather easily, talking about your internship and how much you hated it. Haechan couldn't relate about the internship part, but he did hate his job. The hours were bad, they mixed up with his college schedule and management didn't care. He was in the process of looking for a new job, today being the day he put in his two weeks.
xxx-xxx-xxx : looks like i caught you just in time
donghyuck : lucky you
donghyuck : bet you'd be even luckier if you accepted this date ive been dying to ask you on ever since i met you
You heart stopped, in a good way of course. 10 hours into knowing him and he was already asking you out on a date. Honestly, you didn't even mind. With a man like him, you couldn't let another person want him the way you do.
xxx-xxx-xxx : finally! tmrw at 7? promise I'll be sober this time
And with a date scheduled, you could both sleep comfortably, knowing what was going to come in just a few hours. To be fair, it was almost 5 in the morning once you two decided to finally get some sleep.
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sftykth · 2 days
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the bimbo maid ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ anakin skywalker.
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★ summary: agreeing with your best friend to find a job over the summer, leads you the well known bimbo to work as Anakin Skywalker’s personal maid which takes an unexpected turn.
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★ pairing: college student y/n x modern!ceo anakin skywalker.
★ genre: college au, ceo au, age gap (reader is 20, anakin is 40)
★ a/n: hi guys:) first part to the series let me know if you like another part. or if you have any requests drop them on my inbox! i love writing something on similar basis.
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Summer had finally approached which meant that finals were over and you had plenty of time to yourself. Being a university student was easy for you, had the perfect grades, never too broke for nights out thanks to your rich father. You two had a fairly decent relationship, though he never really payed much attention to your whereabouts. Sometimes thoughts of a better connection with your father crossed your mind but there was little you could do.
You were shaken out of your thoughts when you felt a shove to your shoulder. "Earth to Y/n, what got you so caught up huh?" the voice of your best friend Irene took you out of trance.
You gave her a cheeky smile, "Oh nothing don't mind me. So what are the plans for the summer, now we are free from the hell hole?"
"Well I was hoping we could finally get some work experience, you know like I mentioned before" she responded with a hopeful look. You groaned at the mention of work, you didn't understand her obsession with doing manual labor when you two were perfectly fine for money. Actually more than fine. Growing up with a rich father had its perks but it did encourage for a naive behavior for you. You didn't really notice it, too busy making sure you looked your best and always too good enough for college boys.
"Irene we talked about this already, what use will it be for people like us to work. Like it is so pointless we have everything we want. We don't have to work to prove anything" You gave your honest opinion, not really bothering to think about reality of life, too busy in your own head daydreaming away.
She rolled her eyes before you saw a sly smirk pull at her lips. "Oh god what? Why are you looking at me like that? I told you I am not doing it."
"Oh but you are you remember how you said you owe me big time after you cock blocked me at Colby's party?" She says her arms folded with a proud grin on her face. Face palming yourself at the memory. "that was like months ago can't you let it go, cmon Irene." You gave her your best puppy eyes which always seemed to work on everyone, your big sparkly eyes which seems to make men fold in an instance.
However, your antics didn't work as your best friend just gave you the death stare. "Ugh fine I will do it even if I think this is the most stupid thing you could have come up with." You state after minutes of trying to persuade your friend, she squealed in joy a big smile spreading across her face "trust me Y/n this will help us in the long run and I'm just glad I won't be the only one suffering during summer" She said running away before you could say another word. Rolling your eyes you could only hope, God was on your side this time round.
-
A good few weeks had passed since the interaction, and you really had tried to find a job. You scanned every newspaper, every article online but nothing seemed to work. No callbacks, nothing. Somehow you convinced yourself that this is your fathers fault, carrying his surname obviously put you at a disadvantage from the rest as it carries intimidation. Or that you didn't see the fact that it wasn't the surname but the persona itself that made these employers turn you away. As your father was a very well known business man the media had taken its interest in calculating his every move, as a result it caused you to be dragged along. They captured you as the typical blonde bimbo who was only best at looking good.
Those media articles didn't bother you much, you knew deep inside that you were better than that. Yes you were very high maintenance and you needed everything to be as you liked but that didn't mean you were stupid. You always hear what people have to say behind your backs, that is why Irene was your only best friend. Though she was born in a similar family, she understood you and the reality behind such life.
"Honey?" You heard you fathers voice call out. You looked up from where you were brushing your hair at your vanity. "Hm what's up? You needed something?" Continuing to brush through your hair not minding much attention to him, though slightly intrigued what he wanted so late at night. Usually he is too busy locked away in his office late nights to have any time to come to say good nights.
He clears his throat before starting, "well I heard you were looking for a job but not having much luck. And I wanted to see if I could be any help?" Turning around as confusion clouded your brain, how did he know but then realization that probably one of the maids you were talking about it with had mentioned it to him.
"Oh yeah, not sure if you can be any help. I tried absolutely everywhere and nobody wants me." The topic brought tears to your eyes, it was stupid you didn't even want this. Only doing it for your best friend.
He approached you and patted your shoulder "Oh honey don't cry it's okay, I actually had something in mind. This work friend of mine had mentioned in passing he was looking for a new maid, his old one had moved away and the house is pretty massive so he needs the help."
You frowned at his words, "a maid? Do I look like like a maid to you dad? This is just bellow me, I- I can't" You couldn't believe your father's word right now, a maid? You never treated your maids any less of course, but the thoughts of actually working as a maid made you disgusted.
He looked at me knowingly, "I know honey, you don't have to take it but it is something worth considering. His family are also very well off so you would be in great hands I'm sure." His words slightly eased me, you really hated the idea of working as a maid not used to getting your hands dirty. "Who?" You gently asked playing with the ends of your skirt.
"The Skywalker's, honey." The name sounded familiar to your ears, you heard of the man that was in charge of one of the companies but there was never an opportunity to meet him.
"What do you say, hm? I will give him a call so he could arrange a meeting before you start. Would give you a chance to get a sense of the house and what it would be like." Your father really tried to encourage you, even though he was not the most present father out there he really tried to do everything for the better for his family. Even if that family was just you and him.
The idea still bothered you but you gave him a nod, too tired to fight. You figured it wouldn't hurt to at least meet the guy. You father gave you a big smile in return, proud of your choice. "Alright honey, I will let him know as soon as I can."
-
To say the fact you were nervous was an understatement, you where stood out the big dark gates that hid the Skywalker's residency. You adjusted your pastel pink skirt which ended just at mid thighs, as you waited for the gates to open after ringing the bell on your left. You made sure to pay extra attention to your appearance today, made sure your make up was just right, with the right amounts of blush and lipgloss. Wearing one of your favorite white crop top which had two animated bunnies on it, paired with white thigh highs.
The idea of dressing in a formal way didn't even cross your mind, as you believed you didn't have to do all the typical interview things you had heard Irene mention in passing.
Once the gates had opened you took a shaky breath, before approaching the large doors. You finally started to feel the reality of what was happening, you didn't know what to expect from this meeting. You could only hope he was nice, was he? Was a he strict boss? Or maybe he was kind and gentle? Many thoughts flooded your head, you didn't even notice the door being pulled open.
"And who are you?" A shrill voice caused you to jump, tighting your hold on your mini bag, you looked up to see an older woman. Probably around your fathers age, though she looked beautiful. The smile wrinkles having its mark didn't take away the youthful beauty she once held. She must be the wife, you thought.
"I'm Y/n, Mrs Skywalker. My father arranged an appointed with you for the new position as the maid." You shyly stated as you felt intimidated by the harsh look she continued to give you. She scoffed in response, "seriously? Aren't you too young to be working?" She shook her head at me, "I'm twenty, Mrs Skywalker."
"Right whatever, just come in already and head straight to the dining room." She pointed straight, I quickly took my chance and rushed to the direction she pointed not wanting to anger her more. You weren't sure what her problem was, but you knew you wouldn't have much patience if she treated you as dirt. After all you were an Kenobi and nobody treated Kenobi's with disrespect.
"So kid, who was it that recommended you here?" She questioned as she towered over you, a dark look still in her eyes. You weren't too scared so you didn't back away, "Obi Wan, Mrs Skywalker. My father." You proudly stated, watching her gaze avert for a second. Got you.
"I see. I didn't actually hear from him though kid. Can you explain that to me." She once again glared at you, as you were ready to respond a deep voice had cut her off.
"That is because he spoke to me Padme, now leave. I will not ask again." A tall man entered the room, his aura surrounding the whole room in almost a suffocating way. She finally turned her glare from m you to her husband, "fine. But please for the love of god hire someone actually worthy." She spat before leaving the room, an obvious stab at you. You lowered your head trying to not let tears prickle your eyes, you couldn't appear weak now. Not in front of this man.
"Look up. Now." The harsh voice made my head instantly look up, met with such piercing blue eyes you nearly gasped. They seemed so full of emotion that you couldn't decipher what. However, the intimidation you felt was clear not only to you but him as well. Though your mind had it own idea of drifting away, as you thought about how good looking he was. You couldn't actually believe how hot he was for someone of his age, you were never attracted to such older guys before so it shocked you.
"Am I going to have to repeat myself? Or will you be a good girl and listen." The rough sound of his voice pulled you out of your thoughts about the man that stood right above you. You gulped, clearly missing what he had said but the mention of the nickname had made your thighs squeezing without you realizing.
"Sorry sir, I- I didn't hear you." You managed to whisper out, something about him made you cower away. Not really knowing what to do with yourself. "I asked. When can you start?" He says his cold stare never leaving me, my eyebrows shot up. Was he not going to ask any questions? Was getting a job really that easy?
"Oh um I can start whenever you want me to. I'm fully available." You hoped you didn't sound too desperate, but you were being honest with him. "Good. You can start tomorrow." He stresses before starting to walk away from me, not before turning around and pointing at me "and please come dressed in something more, appropriate. Though we do have an uniform you can get dressed in." Were his last words before quickly leaving the room.
Left stunned, you didn't even manage to ask what the uniform was. You really hoped you could survive this summer working for this man. He seemed to not like you by the cold stare he kept giving you, you could only hope he becomes nicer or else it will make this experience harder.
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— thanks for reading:) if you like another part let me know. and if you like to be in my tag list for future stories let me know too!
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aperrywilliams · 2 days
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Douchebag Falls Short in This Case (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)
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------------------
Author Masterlist
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Part 1: If Anything I Find it Educative
Part 2: It Was Horrible Until It Wasn’t
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.
Summary: Spencer and Reader can’t have their scheduled lunch, but they keep talking by phone and texts. After Spencer returns from a case, they can see each other again. If Spencer hadn’t been mesmerized with Reader, now he is, and maybe is more than that.
Word Count: 5.8k
Warnings: Some strong words. Description of Road Rage Disorder. Talking about bad experiences at high school (nothing explicit). Emily is the best older sister to Spencer.
A/N: The prospect of them having a date was too tempting not to do it. This one is part 3 of “If Anything I Find It Educative” (Part 2 of “It Was Horrible Until It Wasn’t”). Let me know your thoughts!!! I’m here to read you guys.
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Spencer's POV
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Me: Are you free on Saturday at midday? We could go to lunch. Let me know. Good night. S.R.
Heimlich Master: Yeah. Lunch sounds great. Let's talk about the details later. Good night :)
My face hurts from the big smile I sport right now. Smile that doesn't fade once I get to my apartment.
How did I manage to text her right away? I would never know, but I thank that moment of confidence.
Now I can't wait to see her again on Saturday.
---
I should have known making plans wouldn't work for me. It's Friday afternoon, and I'm on the jet about to take off for a case in Los Angeles.
There goes my lunch with (Y/N).
I grab my phone to type a text to let her know.
Between last night and today, we have been texting back and forth about what time on Saturday works for us and whether I had a place in mind. I did, but I told her it was a surprise.
Now I must cancel, and I can't stress enough my disappointment.
Me: Hey. I'm so sorry, but I'm leaving for a case in L.A. Can we reschedule our lunch? Please don't hate me.
Heimlich Master: Oh, it's okay. Don't worry; of course, we can reschedule.
Heimlich Master: Let me know when you come back. And don't be silly; I don't hate you.
Heimlich Master: Can I ask you for something, though?
Me: Sure. Anything.
Heimlich Master: Can you prevent Morgan from kick-down doors this time? The bureau budget would appreciate it.
I can't contain the snort that leaves my lips, gaining Emily's attention. Bad luck of mine; she is in a seat just in front of me.
Me: I'll do my best. Promise.
Heimlich Master: Thank you. Have a safe flight :)
Me: Thanks :)
Look at me! Even using emojis.
Penelope would be proud of me.
I set my phone on the table to exchange it for the book I chose for this flight. Emily's voice stops me before I can do that.
"So, are you going to tell me why you are so smiling?"
And here we go.
"Me?" I lift my eyes to Emily, who has a smirk on her face. I hate that she already knows what's happening, not even knowing what's happening.
"Sure, genius. I don't see anyone else here so amused and focused on his texts. Not to mention the grin that could illuminate the whole D.C."
"No, I'm not!" I defend—a poor attempt to keep the transparency of my face at bay. Emily scoffs, and that's all it takes to know she doesn't believe me.
"I understand you don't like to talk about your personal life. I get it. And I won't bug you as Morgan would, yet knowing it is related to your love life. But don't try to fool me. It's insulting," she says, the last part faking hurt. That makes me chuckle.
"That being said, I just want you to know I'm here if you need to talk. It's not always good to keep things to yourself."
Not waiting for my response, she picks up the folder with the current case details to read.
I have known Emily for a few years now, and even if we didn't start on the right foot - entirely my fault - she's proven very supportive. Gosh, once she endured a whole beating from an unsub only to keep me safe.
Beyond that, she knows how to talk to me without treating me like a kid. Sometimes, I can't say the same about the rest. Of course, I don't blame them; they've always seen me as the team's baby, but I appreciate Emily doesn't.
"That's the thing. This," I point my gaze where my phone is. "I don't know what it is," I sigh. Emily's eyes are back to me. She sees how confused I am.
"What do you think it is then?"
I don't want to betray (Y/N) 's trust by spilling details about her life, so the specifics of our talks are out of the table.
"I can't deny there is a connection between us. We only met twice—both by chance. But they led us to talk for hours. And I ask myself, am I reading this wrong, and she only sees me like a, I don't know, potential friend?"
"Why would she? She told you she was only looking for a friend?" Emily asks, her hands resting lightly over the folder on her lap.
"No, she didn't. It's a deduction of mine, though. I mean, she recently ended a relationship —a very serious one."
Just remembering the reason that led to that breakup makes me sick.
"Okay. That could be a thing, but not necessarily. Maybe things ended precisely because she wanted something different. That's not bad," Emily hypothesizes. I shake my head.
"I'm not so sure. Let's say she wouldn't have ended the relationship until something big happened. Big enough for her to realize the guy was a total -"I trail off. What would be the right word?
"A douchebag?" Emily offers.
"I think douchebag falls short in this case," I point out. Emily's eyes widen.
"That bad, uh?" I nod.
"She is vulnerable right now, and I don't want to take advantage of that. But at the same time, I want a chance with her. Am I a bad person?"
"What? No! Spencer, don't say that," Emily rushes to stop my spiral. "Far from that. You are considerate enough to see she's in a complicated situation. Most of the men don't even care about that. Cut her some slack, though. She is a grown-up woman, and if she wants to get to know you, why not let her? If she hasn't already, I bet she will see the great man you are. And not only as a friend."
My eyebrows furrow.
"Do you think so?"
"Sure. And for how you describe her, I don't think she is the type to play with people's feelings. Although, I strongly recommend being honest with her. That will prevent false expectations."
I take in Emily's words, and they make perfect sense.
"Thank you, Emily. I didn't think about it like that," I
muse. "Can you do me a favor, though?"
She nods, anticipating what I'm going to say.
"I know. Not a word to anyone. Got it," Emily confirms with a reassuring smile.
---
The heat in Los Angeles for the last three days has been overpowering. Just as catching this unsub has become extremely frustrating.
I'm in the meeting room they lent us to work in, reviewing the details of the case over and over again. The rest of the team is outside the precinct following our latest leads.
My head started to hurt, and I had to close my eyes for a moment.
As I focus on breathing, my phone pings. I open my eyes and see a text from (Y/N).
Heimlich Master: How are you? I read that L.A. has a heat wave; I hope it's not hitting you too hard.
I can't help the smile that pushes the corners of my lips upward.
Me: I'd like to say it's not affecting me, but I don't want to lie. I will survive, though. Please tell me how nice the weather is in D.C., and I'll aim to finish this case as soon as possible.
Heimlich Master: I thought our lunch was enough incentive for you to do that. Now I feel bad.
Oh, fuck. What did I do? Of course, it's an incentive for me. It is THE incentive, actually. I have been thinking about that since Friday when I came here. Now she's assuming I don't care.
How can you be such an idiot, Spencer?
I must fix this immediately, so I hit the call button—a confused (Y/N) answers on the other end.
"Spencer?"
"Hey. I - uh. I decided to call because I needed to explain myself. Please, don't feel bad. Of course, I want our lunch to happen. I wasn't saying it like if I don't. I mean, the heat is fucking insane here, but it's not-"
"Spencer, hey, don't-" she tries to make me stop. Still, I am so determined to say everything necessary to explain myself that I continue my rant.
"What I'm trying to say is-"
"Spencer, wait!" (Y/N)’s firmer voice halts me in my failed attempt at an apology. It's sufficient enough for me to shut up.
"Sorry. What were you about to say?"
"I'm sorry for stopping you, but it sounded like you would run out of air and pass out. Now I feel awful because the last thing I wrote was only to mess with you. I didn't want you to feel like I was accusing you of something, much less that you owed me an apology."
"Oh," I mumble, now making sense of the whole exchange. My cheeks heat up realizing I went from 0 to 100 in seconds. (Y/N)'s voice sounds anxious now.
"Please, forgive me if I worried you that way. That's why I hate texts; I can't control my teasing tone as I do when I talk to someone."
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I don't want (Y/N) to think she did anything wrong, though.
"No, don't say that. I'm not good at - literally - reading social cues. I should have noticed. I just need some practice," I chuckle. I can hear a chuckle on the other end, too.
"Well, since we already cleared up our first miscommunication problem. How are you?"
That sentence shouldn't make my heart skip a beat, but it does.
Get your shit together, Spencer.
"With the heat and the lack of progress in the case, it is a bit frustrating. But we'll make it. How about you?"
"Good, actually. Not the load of paperwork I had last week, and my boss just asked me to prepare a lecture for the trainees in forensic accounting."
"Wow, that's amazing!" I chirp, excited.
"I'm a bit nervous, though. But I'll live," (Y/N) sighs.
"You'll do it great. I didn't know you were into teaching," I muse, remembering our prior conversations.
"I didn't, either. But I've had some previous experiences, and they have been okay. So, the case? That bad, uh?"
That brings me back to L.A. and the case. I was very comfy with my mind in (Y/N).
"He's taunting us. I mean, the police force. But we have a strong profile. One more piece, and we have him," I assure, trying to be convincing enough.
"You guys know what you're doing. You'll catch him, Spencer." (Y/N) sounds like she has no doubt. It fills my heart with warmth because although she doesn't have to put that amount of trust in me, she does it anyway.
"Reid?" I turn to see Morgan and J.J. walking into the room. She hears it, too.
"They need you. You have to return to work," (Y/N) concludes. I let out a sigh.
"Yeah. I have to go," I mumble apologeticly.
"Of course, you're working. It’s okay," she affirms with understanding.
"I'll let you know when I'm done here. Take care, okay?" I whisper into the receiver.
"I will. You too, be safe. Bye."
I can see Morgan's smirk and JJ’s curious look when I hang up.
I know they're dying to ask me questions, but now is not the time, and I don't want to either. So before any words come from their mouths, I hasten to speak.
"Did you find anything? I was examining what we have so far, and I think we are missing something. Look at this," I tell them, pointing to the scattered photos on the table. They look at each other and hesitate to interrupt me or play along. Thank goodness they opt for the latter.
---
Me: Did you know L.A. has an abandoned underground tunnel network? If they are put together, it will stretch out 17 kilometers. They exist due to the Prohibition. When alcohol was banned in L.A. in early 1920, 35,000 gallons of wine were poured into its sewers. But, far from eradicating booze, prohibition pushed its use underground, literally.
Heimlich Master: Wow. I didn't know that. But I'm afraid to ask why are you telling me this. Are you trapped in one of those tunnels, and this is a call for help? [see attached photo]
Me: Ha Ha Ha. Let's say I've been studying those tunnels all day. Good thing we have Morgan and Prentiss to do the dirty job, though.
It's my fifth night in Los Angeles, and I don't know whether to laugh or cry. The only things that have kept me at least in a decent mood are the texts and short calls I have shared with (Y/N). I've never been very fond of using technology, including my cell phone, but thanks to (Y/N), I haven't even questioned it.
We've been sharing fun facts and memes. If you had asked me a week ago what a meme was, I wouldn't have known what to answer. The word was familiar to me thanks to Garcia, who often mentions them, but now I can say that I know more about them than I would have expected to. (Y/N) is a regular, and I can understand more of her sense of humor because of that. She especially loves the ones with a philosopher dinosaur and those where a woman yells at a cat.
Heimlich Master: How is the case going?
I'm about to reply when hard knocks shake my hotel room door. I hear Morgan's voice on the other side. "Reid! There is a break in the case! Move your ass right now!" Before leaving the room, I texted (Y/N).
Me: Hoping to wrap it up tonight.
Two hours later, we have the unsub in custody, not before running into a frantic chase for L.A. streets. Now, completely wasted, we are packing our things to return home. Usually, when we wrap cases at this hour, we stay until the next morning and then take off. But everyone is so drained that Hotch called to the tarmac saying we’re flying back tonight.
Being already on the jet, I feel like writing to (Y/N), but it doesn't seem appropriate, considering it's 2 in the morning. I refrain and try to catch some sleep, knowing exactly what I want to do first when we touch down in Virginia.
---
It’s the first time I've put foot on the third floor of the Quantico Headquarters. It doesn’t look too different from the others I do know. A bunch of people walking in and out, agents perched at their desks, deep in folders or computers. Phones are ringing, and the sound of copy machines is unmistakable.
But none of that matters right now. I have a mission to accomplish.
After navigating between several desks, I find the one I’m looking for.
“Good morning, agent (Y/L/N).”
At the sound of my voice, (Y/N)’s head whips up.
“Hey! When did you come back?” she asks, seeming confused. The last time we spoke was last night before the unsub takedown, so for her, I still could be in LA.
I check my watch. “One hour and fifteen minutes ago.”
“I hope you slept on the jet.”
“I did. A bit.”
I won’t tell her how I barely closed my eyes, excited about returning to Virginia.
“So, to what do I owe the honor of having you here, Dr. Reid?”
“A crucial matter that can’t wait.”
“Is that so?”
“Uh-hu. I have an announcement and a question for you.”
“Oh yeah? Okay, shoot.”
“Morgan didn't kick down any doors during this case.”
(Y/N) snort a laugh. What a beautiful view it is to see her laugh.
“It's what I needed to start my day with the right foot.”
“You're welcome.”
“Okay, that was the announcement. And the question?”
“Yeah, about that. What do you say if we switch our failed lunch last Saturday for having dinner tonight?”
(Y/N)’s eyes widen in surprise.
“Tonight? Are you sure? You just came back.”
She’s inspecting my face, looking for certainty. I nod solemnly.
“Yeah, tonight. Unless you already have plans. If that’s the case, it’s okay. We can do something another day.”
After pondering my offer for a second, a smile creeps in (Y/N)’s face.
“You’re a lucky guy. Did you know that?”
Is it too much to say I’m feeling a lucky guy since I met her?
“I’m realizing now. Pick you up at seven, then. Is that okay?”
“Perfect. I’ll text you my full address.”
After saying our goodbyes, I take the elevator back to BAU. As the doors open at the sixth, I go face-to-face with Garcia.
“Oh, there you are! Everyone was looking for you to start the debriefing. Where were you anyways?” Penelope says, worried about my whereabouts.
Shit. I forgot Hotch wanted to do that quickly so we could finally get over this case.
“Uh. I had to use the bathroom.” I try to sound normal to avoid making a big deal.
“On another floor?” She asks, visibly confused.
Sometimes, my IQ gets lost in my odd way of doing synapses.
What the fuck I was thinking when I said that?
“Did you know the men’s bathroom paper toilet in the seventh is better quality than here?”
Oh, Spencer Reid, please stop.
“Really? I always knew they had more privileges than us. But the paper toilet? It’s infuriating,” Garcia huffs. And I know doing this is not very kind of me, but I promise to explain to her. Not now, though.
“Uh. I’m going to the conference room now. The others are waiting,” I announce, and Garcia nods, ushering me there.
“Yes. Go, go!”
Aside from the looks of 'Where the hell were you?' no one commented on me being late. Once we debrief, Hotch officially closes the case, instructing us to finish the paperwork and head home at lunchtime, which is perfect for my plans. It gives me enough time to prepare for dinner with (Y/N).
I know I look like a teenager, but I don't care.
Around three in the afternoon, I am already in my apartment and have made a restaurant reservation.
I decided to take a quick nap, although I didn't know how much sleep I would get given my nerves. It's not that being with (Y/N) makes me anxious per se; It's the anticipation of being with her.
Maybe I'm expecting too much from this date.
Shit. 'This date' Is this actually a date?
I feel like it is, but for (Y/N), will it be the same?
I invited her to dinner but never told her it was a date. Derek would tell me it is, but I don't want to assume.
Now is when Emily's words ring in my ears: 'Be honest with her to avoid false expectations.'
With her words in mind and the tiredness from the last days catching up with me, slumber finds me after a while.
---
It’s seven pm sharp, and I’m knocking on (Y/N)’s door. I can hear some rustling from inside before the doors open, revealing her frame greeting me with a smile.
“Hey! Just in time!”
“H- hi,” I say, almost breathless after taking in her appearance.
It's true that the first time I saw (Y/N), she was dressed to the nines. It's also true that when I saw her on the terrace that night, I couldn't help but think how beautiful and captivating she was.
The next time was at Quantico. She wore a classic and elegant office outfit, with black formal trousers, a white silk blouse, and a fitted maroon jacket. The image of all the confidence and resolve I bet she has at the job.
But now? My jaw shamelessly drops.
She's wearing a sleek, form-fitting black dress that accentuates her curves and black heels that elongate her legs. A beautiful cardigan wraps elegantly in her upper half. Her hair is styled in loose waves cascading over her shoulders, and she's accessorized with long silver earrings and the same necklace with the compass I saw on her the first time. She looks sophisticated, alluring, and just perfect.
“Let me get my purse, and we can go, okay?” (Y/N) says, jutting her thumb to the inside.
“Su- yeah, sure.”
Great. I’m a stuttering mess.
The drive to the restaurant is filled with light conversation. I talked about the last heatwave in Los Angeles, and she annoyed me by telling me about the rain in Virginia last week.
Now I ask (Y/N) if she has a car. It happens that she owns a car but doesn't like to drive.
“I just discovered years ago I don't like it. But I kept the car only for emergencies, which is stupid if I think of it,” she prefaces.
“Why?” I ask, stealing a glance at her.
“Because now all emergencies I can think of entail myself incapable of driving.”
Her laugh fills the car now, and I can’t help but join her.
“Okay, okay. But really, why you don’t like it?” I ask when our laughing fades. (Y/N) clears her throat.
“Uh - are you familiar with the term road rage?”
I nod, not peeling my gaze from the streets ahead.
“Yes, I do. Colloquially known as ‘angry driver disorder,’ it is aggressive or angry behavior exhibited by motorists. These behaviors include rude and verbal insults, yelling, physical threats, or dangerous driving methods targeted at other drivers, pedestrians, or cyclists to intimidate or release frustration.”
A sigh escapes (Y/N)’s lips. “Yeah. That.”
Using the chance a red light gives me, I look at her with an eyebrow furrowed.
“So, do you have RRD?”
She averts my gaze, focusing on the windshield instead.
“I thought I had it. At first, I didn’t give it any importance. I said it was just me trying to adjust to the jungle. Who hasn’t yelled as driving? But there were times when I freaked out of myself and feared doing something more than screeching or honking like crazy. So, I stopped driving for a while. I did my research and learned techniques to get it under control. But since then, I never enjoyed it again.”
A nervous giggle escapes from (Y/N)’s lips.
“Jesus, you are going to think I’m a society threat.”
I shake my head without a second thought.
“Of course, you are not. Furthermore, I find it admirable that you realized it was unhealthy and took action before living a worse experience.”
I see a blush creeping (Y/N)’s cheeks from the corner of my eye.
Not five minutes later, we are at the restaurant parking lot.
Descending from the vehicle, I hurry to (Y/N)’s door and open it for her. Once she is out of the car, I offer my arm so she can lace hers with it.
The hostess greets us at the entrance, and once he checks our reservation, he leads us to our table.
It's the first time I’m here. I chose it because Rossi once said it was perfect for a date.
Again. A date. Something I still don't know if apply here.
A waitress approaches us as soon as we sit, handing us two menus.
“Miss, sir. I’m Emma, and I’ll be at your service this evening. Can I offer something to drink?”
After Emma leaves us with our orders, (Y/N) turns to me.
“Spencer, this place is amazing.”
And she is right. The soft lighting from the small lamps creates a warm atmosphere. The decor includes cozy tables spaced apart for privacy, with comfortable seating and plush cushions. Soft and muted deep reds and browns fill the interior, with classy artwork on the walls. It's really nice.
But above all, the company makes it even better.
Our conversation flows as easily as in the car. It's so comfortable as we have known each other for a long time. And we just met less than two weeks ago.
“Okay, let me get this straight. So you are from Vegas and couldn't bear the L.A. heatwave?”
“I have lived in DC for almost eight years, so I adapted better to this climate.” I shrug and (Y/N) hums.
“You don't get to go there that much? I mean, do you have family there?”
“Just my mom. And no, I don’t see her very often,” I confess—a tint of guilt in my voice.
I see (Y/N)’s face, and I know she wants to ask, but she is respectful enough not to. Not everyone is.
“I’m an only child. And my dad left us when after my tenth birthday. With no siblings, it is only my mom and me. But even if I don't see her often, I write her letter daily.”
I look at her again, expecting the same face everyone gives me when I talk about my family, the one that screams pity. But no, if (Y/N)’s face screams anything, it’s understanding.
“Old school, uh? I’m sure your mom loves your letters,” she says, sipping her glass of wine. I nod,
telling (Y/N) more about my letters to my mom and how detailed she likes me to write them.
“And I think it helped us not to break the bond.” I shrug, taking a bit from the fork. “What about you? Did you say you are not from DC?”
“No. I’m not. I’m from Minneapolis. My parents settled there at a very young age. They were born in the South. I have two siblings: an older sister and a younger brother. My parents are still in Minneapolis, and my brother is, but he lives with his boyfriend now. My sister left for Chicago when she married her fiancee years ago.”
“Do you see them often?”
(Y/N) shakes her head.
“Not quite. Just in holidays or major events. But we call each other often. I always know what happens there, and they know what happens to me here.”
(Y/N) tells me she is not that close with her sister, though. Since she started dating his current husband, they distanced. And that only worsened when (Y/N) moved to DC.
“I’m sorry. That must have hurt.” I don’t know what having a sibling is, but I see in her eyes that she is not okay with how things turned between them.
“Yeah. But neither of us has done something about it. And here is where I need to clarify that stubbornness runs in my family,” she chuckles.
I pull a face, faking surprise. “Yeah, that’s so you can realize who you're dealing with,” she says, pointing her fork at me.
Our conversation bounces from topic to topic until we land on the school phase.
I tell her about what it's like to be a child prodigy in a public school in Las Vegas. The bad things and the not-so-bad ones, because believe it or not, I can see something positive from that time at this point in my life.
“Clearly, I didn't have it as difficult as you, but I am sure we all felt out of place at some point during that time,” she muses, cutting a piece of her dessert with the spoon.
“Did you?”
She lets out a chuckle. “Let's say I haven't been very ‘typical’ in my life, especially in high school. I mean, if following a stereotype was required, mine was quite different from the other girls my age.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “How is so?”
“Well, while my friends dreamed about having a Mr. Darcy-Elizabeth kind of love, I found Heathcliff and Kathy's relationship more appealing,” she stops from her explanation with a snort escaping her lips. “Ha! I should have known it would be a problem later.”
Why do I think other people would know what she is talking about while I don't?
Of course, she sees the confusion written all over my face.
“You don’t know what I’m talking about, do you?” I pull a face, shaking my head.
“At risk of being disrespectful, uh, no. I don't.”
“Don’t worry. You don't have to, I guess. But if you read Wuthering Heights someday, you will know.”
I will—first thing in the morning.
“But the main idea is that I never expected life would be something close to a fairy tale, you know? I just didn't believe it, and my friends hated that of me.”
Jerks.
It's fair to say that we are so caught up in chatting that we don’t realize we are the only ones left in the restaurant. We do when Emma approaches to ask if we need anything.
After paying the check, we left the restaurant and headed to my car. The ride is mainly silent this time. I don’t want this night to end, and I think (Y/N) doesn't either because of how she bites her lower lip with her eyes trained on the road ahead.
We begin a light conversation for a few minutes after arriving at her building. With the car in parking, I reach her side of the vehicle to open the door for her. I offer her my hand, and she takes it, giving me a warm smile.
“I'll walk you to the door.” She nods softly, “Okay.”
The three floors to her apartment are pure agony in my head. I want to be honest with her, but I also don't want to scare her into thinking I'm a creep or whatever. If she notices my internal dilemma, she doesn't mention it. We reach her door, and (Y/N) takes her keys from her purse. I don't trust my hands and keep them in my pockets as she opens the door. She turns to face me now.
“Thank you, Spencer. I had a great time tonight.”
I see it in her eyes. She is genuine. And my heart skips a bit.
“Me too. Thanks for accepting my invitation.”
My hands feel clammy, so I take them out of my pocket and dry them discreetly on my clothes.
“Of course.”
We remain silent without taking our eyes off each other. Emily's words reverberate, and I know what I must do.
Okay. Here we go.
“Can I - can I ask you something?”
I wish I could speak without stumbling over my words.
“Sure.”
“Would you say that tonight, that is, our dinner - would you say it was a date? I mean, would you classify this as a date?”
(Y/N)’s eyes are trained on me as if trying to follow my train of thought.
“A date? Why wouldn’t I?”
She is still careful but curious about where I’m going with all of this.
“It's just that I never said it was a date when I talked about dinner.”
“So, you didn’t want it as a date?” (Y/N) asks for clarification, and I feel like the stupidest human being on earth.
“No! I did. I do. It's just - I thought you maybe thought of it like something different?”
She narrows her eyes at me. This is not working. I take a deep breath before starting over.
“The thing is, I don’t know if I’m reading this wrong. From the times we have seen each other and what we have talked about in these two weeks, I feel that there is something that feels so good between us, and I wonder if maybe you don't feel it or if you see it as something similar to a friendship. I know things in that part of your life have been messy lately, and I would understand if you wouldn't want anything to do with me, but I can't stop thinking-“
My rant is halted when I notice (Y/N)’s palm caressing my cheek. There is a glimmer in her eyes that makes my heart stop.
“Spencer. You are not reading this wrong. I feel the same way you described it as ‘right,’ even if I’m unsure what it is exactly.”
I let out a dramatic sigh I didn't know I was holding. That makes (Y/N) giggle. I join her with a chuckle myself.
As the giggle subsides, I hold her hand and place it over my chest near my heart. My other hand softly tilts her chin so I can look into her eyes.
“You are amazing; did you know that?” I whisper, and her breath hitched. I flick my gaze between her eyes and her lips. She does the same. And that's what I needed to get the courage and lean in. Slowly, the distance between us gets short, and I swear my heart is going to burst out of my chest. I can feel her breath fanning my face as her eyes flutter close.
And then, our lips met for the first time.
It's slow, and I can taste the sweetness of her lips.
I've never felt something like this kissing someone before, but now that I know what it's like, I never want to stop feeling it.
Her hands go up my shoulders, seeking a grip on the hair at the back of my neck. My hands fly to her hips to pull her closer to me as our kiss deepens. I sweep my tongue over her lower lip, and she parts them to grant me access. One of my hands leaves her hip to cup her face to get a better angle for continuing our kiss. Her arms tighten around my neck, pulling me impossibly closer.
I don’t want it to end, but the need for air is too much. After breaking the kiss, we are both panting with our faces flushed and lips swollen.
“Wow.”
“Jesus.”
We breathe out at the same time, followed by a fit of giggles.
Her laugh is definitely my new favorite sound on Earth.
I cup her cheeks and lean again to steal a quick kiss from her lips, and when I’m about to part again, she tightens her grip on my suit jacket lapels and brings me to her lips again.
After two or three more kisses, we lose the hold of our hands off each other, with a wide grin spread on our faces.
“I think we already give my neighbors enough of a show for tonight,” (Y/N) points out, biting her lower lip and peeking at both sides of the hall behind me.
“Yeah,” I mumble as I stroke her cheek, gaze focused on her eyes. “I should get going.” (Y/N) nods. “Text me when you are home?”
“I will.”
After another quick kiss, I muster the will to say goodbye. Wishing me goodnight, (Y/N) enters the apartment and closes the door. I linger there for a few seconds, excited like a child after the best day of his life.
I feel like it is.
Right now? I'm beyond grateful to Hotch for making me attend that stupid gala.
------------------
Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers
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disregardcanon · 2 days
Note
this probably seems like a weird question from your end,but why do fanfic writers care so much about comments? aos already tracks hits and likes, sorry ""kudos"", so why are comments such a big deal to the point that people will stop writing?
okay, so i'm going to take this question very seriously and i promise it's not to make you feel bad. this is a comprehensive explanation of reasons that comments are important for me, both as a writer and as a reader
engagement vs numbers game
seeing trends
buy-in
community building
engagement vs numbers game
let's look quickly at two different fics of mine. this is the kudos count for a fic called Of First Kisses and Burnt Lips
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it's old. it's been up on ao3 for almost 11 years now. 258 people liked it enough to leave a kudos, 12 people liked it enough for a bookmark, and it's been clicked on 3,859 times.
i have no clue what almost any of these people on ao3 THINK about it. beyond "huh. sure. i'll kudos that". compare this to its crosspost on ffn, where i got 5 reviews
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3/5 mention it being cute. 3/5 give appreciation to me for taking the time to write it. 2/5 praise the writing itself from the attention to detail with grammar to the craft. 1/5 is an "um..." which is hard to decipher but appreciate and 1/5 is a silly reaction, but it's a reaction! look, someone felt a felling reading my thing! that made me giggle!
looking at the stats here from a purely numbers perspective, my fic DID better on ao3. it got a lot more kudos than it ever got faves or reviews on ffn. but those ffn comments are still what i think about when i remember this fic.
sure, a shear number like hits or kudos can be comforting and motivating. i'm definitely not telling you to NOT leave kudos! but the fics that i've come back to, recently, are the ones where i don't have a lot of kudos but i do have a few people who are invested in the stories and leaving comments to tell me
2. seeing trends
lets look at a few of the comments on my fic The Maid of Honor Made Them Do It
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so just in these two comments, we see both commenters hone in on the same detail: my choice to include a special christian music playlist that this characters' friends made for her. a few other people in this thread mentioned that same detail, so i know this bit really worked well! it's great feedback that lets me know that a good chunk of readers agree with my characterization here.
these readers zoom in on specific details that they really liked! things that made them laugh, the absurdity of the concept, enjoying reading it, and that they could see it staged, which is a HUGE compliment for a work in a fandom for theater.
i've always had trouble with imaging where characters are in a space, how they're occupying it and moving, and how to use that for characterization purposes. however, i got more than one comment on this fic about how people could see it staged! that means that i'm improving in an area that i've always struggled with. that's huge. it makes me want to keep working on this thing! it makes me feel like what i'm doing here matters, because lots of people are picking up on similar things! they're invested enough to give me a comment! and it makes me want to keep writing for the hatchetfield fandom because some people are invested in my work here. that is BIG! seeing trends in the way that readers experience your story helps a lot with writer buy-in for a project and also for writers self-analysis.
as a commenter: this helps me JUST as much. when i really dig into what i enjoyed about a fic to tell the writer about it, that helps me analyze and articulate the strengths and things i might want to take away from the storytelling, and that makes my writing better too!
3. buy-in
this is a comment on a series that has less than 100 kudos across three fics, but has thoughtful, appreciative comments on each work. it's called Melting Pot
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the commenter deleted their ao3 account. they may be one of the people who commented on the next fic, which i posted recently. they might NOT have been! honestly, it doesn't matter that much to me. this person gave me a gentle and nudge about a fic that matters to me and mattered to them at the time, and they were part of the push i needed to get back to it.
from a commenter perspective, i know that hearing a kind word can help someone keep up their motivation to write, even when i can't write in depth comments the way that i like to!
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just recently i only had the time to comment "nice update" on a favorite fic of mine called Teeth That Turn. but they know that i come and i read and they know and talk to me by (user)name. because they know i care about this thing they care about! and it's way more fun to do something like this when i know i can chat with the author about theories and thoughts and ideas. and this isn't a "wow aren't i so cool other writers like me! tehehe" bragging thing, it's just evidence for the case of why comments matter?
if i didn't want this to be a two way buy-in, i'd ONLY read published fiction, you know? we're all playing in the sandbox on the playground and i like what they made. they like that i like what they made :) we're scheduling a play date to fight with sticks after school my mom said it's okay!
4. community building
now i know that i just mentioned above here why i like being a commenter and how it helps authors, as well as why i like HAVING commenters as an author. i'm still arguing those things as a lead up to this section, where i have two other points to make about community building here too.
1. you can comment on OTHER comments! if you go through and read to see what other people are saying, you can agree with them. you can add some commentary! sometimes you can make a joke! and i've only ever had fun responses from something like that. authors tend to love that their fics are getting such a response that people are talking to each other about it! like look!!!!!! my thing got you to talk to someone else about it holy shit?!??!
2. commenting on fics in your fandom builds you a good reputation and makes other authors you comment on more likely to read YOUR fic. i'm not going to post any screenshots on this one because it would be embarrassing for everyone involved, but there have been authors that i really admired who gave my stuff a try after i commented on theirs. and they've told me that's why they tried it! like obviously it's not just networking or whatever, but it's really nice to have someone give your stuff a try because you've been enthusiastic and thoughtful about theirs.
and you make friends this way! fandom friends! who want to talk about your blorbos! you get to go on little play dates in cyberspace with cool people who like what you like. you don't ever HAVE to be a writer, of course. if you don't want to throw your hat into the ring or make art or edits or gif sets or anything, that's cool. no one ever has to participate in fandom outside of their comfort zone! but if you want to, you know that you'll feel more welcomed if you have some people in your corner for it, and making friends in a space, screaming about how much you love the characters you love, and remembering that fic authors especially are just fans too will help you feel like you "deserve" to exist in the space. maybe you don't write, but you go here too. you've got a space in the fandom and your comments don't have to be, like, perfect literary essays for authors to appreciate them and get a motivation boost from them still existing and us being able to go back to them and go!!! look!!! i don't suck!!! this person liked what i did so i'm okay! :)
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kenzlovesyou · 21 hours
Note
could you write something about surprising Caitlin in New York with her brothers and you vlog it with them and then put it on youtube and in an interview someone makes Caitlin react to it
The Surprise is Me - Caitlin Clark x Reader Pt. 1
this first part is about y/n’s vlog and surprising caitlin!! the next part will be caitlin’s reaction to the video :) ⚠️⚠️please send requests i’m dangerously low
plot: you’re an influencer and you vlog your trip to new york to watch caitlin’s game
➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖
You was pretty big on social media platforms such as Instagram and Tiktok. You had a niche for filming vlogs and your everyday life. It doesn’t sound that interesting, per se, but people gravitated toward your sweet but hilarious nature. As time went on, what started out as a hobby turned into a passion that had opened doors for you as a career. Through this passion, you were able to have so many memorable experiences and meet some amazing people. At the top of your list of people you’d met through your fame you would put Caitlin Clark. Your girlfriend, Caitlin Clark.
Caitlin had replied to one of your Instagram stories when you had a fairly small following, around 20k followers. You recognized her name as the legendary basketball player, who just so happened to attend your same university just in a grade above you. You’d clicked on the reply to see that she had said you had “taken her breath away”. One thing led to another and you two started talking. You even made some tiktoks about “getting ready to go meet up with your crush” or “getting ready for a first date”. Your whole following seemed to be rooting for you and this mystery girl.
After you and Caitlin had made it official, you’d started to be less private about who she was. You’d mentioned that she went to your University with you, and was on the basketball team. Of course, nobody knew with player you were with until you were seen at one of Caitlin’s games sporting one of her 22 jersey’s. After the game, you ran up to her and pecked her lips. That was enough confirmation both your fan bases needed and the edits of you too started rolling in. That was also when you started being more public about your relationship with Caitlin. She could almost always be seen in the background of your videos, and you’d often include her in your video ideas. You did so many tiktok trends with her and made appreciation posts for her using couple tiktok audios.
That brought you to now, here you were with your phone in hand as you boarded a plane to New York to watch your girlfriend’s first game as part of the WNBA. At first, you’d told Caitlin you couldn’t come to watch her. You hadn’t lied to her as you had a very important meeting you couldn’t miss the day of her game. Fortunately, the meeting was rescheduled. As soon as you heard that news, you booked the soonest flight to New York to go see your baby play in the big leagues. You were beyond excited! Instead of telling Caitlin, you thought it would be cute to surprise her. You couldn’t do it yourself, though, and needed to enlist some people that could keep a secret but also help you out with and logistics you needed to be sorted out. For that job you enlisted Caitlin’s two brothers, Blake and Colin. You were pretty close with her brothers as you and Caitlin had been dating for quick some time now.
After boarding your plane, you settled into your seat and got ready for your flight. “Okay guys,” you whispered to the camera. “I’m gonna talk a little quietly because I don’t wanna disturb other people on the plane, y’know? But something you guys probably don’t know about me is I am TERRIFIED of flying. It’s usually not as bad when I’m with Cait but the whole point of this is to go see her so that’s what’s pretty much getting me through it.” You heard a voice on the intercom say to buckle your seatbelts and prepare for a safe flight, “Ahhhh it’s time! I will see you guys when I get to New York!”
Your flight went smoothly for the most part. You were able to calm your nerves with the thought of seeing your beautiful girl play the sport she loves. Since your phone barely worked on the plane, you scrolled through your camera roll looking at pictures to pass the time. You scrolled through endless photos of you and Caitlin together and silly ones you’d taken of her doing absolutely anything. Before you knew it, you were landing and you were ready to hit the ground running.
You walked to the baggage claim carousel and waited for the bags to start circulating. You finally saw yours and grabbed your pink suitcase. You texted the group chat you’d created with Blake and Colin to give them an update.
Y/N: Just landed!! Are you guys on your way?
Colin: We’re parked right outside Terminal C, see you soon
You hearted the message and walked for what felt like forever in the huge New York airport. At last, you found the right terminal and out you went. You spotted Blake’s car immediately and walked over to them. “Hey, Y/n! Man, it’s been a while. You excited to be here?” Blake asked you as he brought you into a side hug. You nodded your head ecstatically, while Colin grabbed your bag and threw it in the trunk. “Duh!!! Im so excited to see my Cait!”
The brothers laughed about how lovesick you were over their sister and you three got into the car. You asked Blake and Colin if they were okay if you started to vlog and of course they said it was fine. “Hey, guys! So I’m in New York!! Ahhh I’m so excited. Shoutout to Blake and Colin, Caitlin’s wonderful brothers for picking me up. You guys wanna say hi?” You flipped the camera so it faced them.
“Hi Y/n’s vlog!!”
“Hey Y/n-nators.”
“Wait Y/n are your fans actually called that?”
Both you and Blake burst out laughing. “Honestly I should call them that, that would be hilarious.”
After about 45 minutes of driving, due to New York traffic, you arrived at the hotel you were staying at. You all just so happened to be staying at the same hotel as the Indiana Fever team, just one floor above them. You wheeled your suitcase inside and checked in. “And you guys are sure Caitlin’s not here yet right?” They both assured you that the team was currently out at dinner and wouldn’t be back at the hotel for at least another hour.
“Guys, tell me why I’m, like, nervous to see Caitlin. It’s like I don’t see her for 3 days and suddenly I’m as nervous as I was when I first met her!!” You heard a ping on your phone and recognized the notification immediately, as your beautiful girlfriend.
Cait 🤍
hi my pretty girl! i miss you so so so much! how are you doing? we’re out at dinner right now, but i was just thinking about you :) text me when you can baby! i’m so excited to facetime you tonight
Y/n 💕
HI MY LOVE!! i miss you even more! im good actually great, how’s dinner?
You smirked at your reply to Caitlin’s text, “I think I played it off really good guys. I don’t think she suspects anything yet!! Okay now let me show you guys my room!” You turned the camera around and did a couple 360s showing off your hotel room.
“Okay,” you started to say to your camera, “So honestly I kinda wanna surprise Caitlin tonight instead of tomorrow at her game just because I’ve missed her so much. I hope she’s missed me too! How should I even do this though??? OMG guys I’m gonna be like ‘Hey Caitlin what’s your room number so I can send you something’ and then I’ll be like okay it’s there and then boom i’ll be there! Perfect, I’m a genius! Okay I’ll let you guys know how it goes!” ping! another text from Caitlin.”
Cait 🤍
hey there i just got back to my hotel
did you wanna ft rn or if not can you in a little bit? i just miss you so much :(
“Uhhh chat she’s actually back like RIGHT NOW. Wait so that means I’m in the same building as her? Awe. Okay let’s do this!!”
Y/n 💕
what’s your room number
Cait 🤍
huh
Y/n 💕
I sent you something but I need to tell them what room you are!
Cait 🤍
AW UR SO CUTE STOP it’s 207
You hearted the message and sprinted out the door of your hotel room. You hurriedly walked down the hall to the elevator and walked in. It was just you, thankfully, and you clicked the number 2. As soon as it opened, you bolted out and walked down the long hallway until you stopped right in front of it. 207. You were apprehensive, thinking what if she was mad at you for coming? What if she wanted to use this as a vacation away from you? What if she thought you were trying to make it all about you? Then you smiled and remembered it was Caitlin. No. Caitlin would think you were so sweet for doing this for her. With that, you knocked at the door.
It was Caitlin’s new teammate that opened the door. She was about to scream, but you put your finger to your lips to shush her. “It’s a surprise!” you whispered. She nodded her head. “Hey, Caitlin! It’s for you!” Caitlin was on the other side of the hotel room and called back to her. “I think Y/n sent me something, let me look.” Caitlin jogged to the door and you popped out.
“ HI CAITLIN!!! THE SURPRISE IS ME!” You waved your hands as you exclaimed. Caitlin’s jaw was to the floor; she couldn’t believe her eyes. She pulled you into her and picked you up, burying her head into your neck. You giggled as you looked down to kiss her temple. “I guess that means you’re happy to see me? Hopefully?” She rolled her eyes and set you down, grabbing your jaw. She pulled you into her and connected your lips into a fiery and passionate kiss.
“Does that show you how happy I am, babe?”
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kanmom51 · 1 day
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I’ve read theories that Jimin and JK split up at some point in 2018 as well as mid 2019, late 2019/2020, basing this off certain moments in Run BTS, JM travelling without JK in the summer 2019, the rumours, the behind the scenes of ON and Black Swan and the Grammys in 2020.
I know they have tense moments and to me that makes them real, all couples fight. But do you think there is any truth to just how bad it got that they broke up?
Thanks
Hey love.
I will start by saying this is my opinion I am voicing here. Based on full original content I have watched. Full episodes or clips.
I think that these assumptions or conclusions people came to based on a couple of few seconds moments we see in clips are problematic to say the least.
Let's start with that word - split up or break up. That is a very heavy term. I don't know what your relationship experience is (I just mention this because I don't know if you are single, have had a long term loving relationship, are in one or otherwise), but a long term healthy relationship usually does not include multiple break ups. A break up has a finality to it. Parting ways. Calling quits. Dissolving the relationship or ending it. And taking a step like that again and again and again, well that would take a toll on the relationship itself over time.
Also, breaking up, a love as strong as what we think these two have, it would show. Much more than what people think they see as evidence for such a breakup.
And when I say show, I mean more like what we saw back in September 2016 in what people love to call the Manila fight. The level of distance, clear anger and displeasure with the other, unhappiness that you can see in their expressions when they are not on stage or attempting to be professional, and this not being on one day, one clip, one event alone, but spread over a period of time.
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And may I add that this happened pretty much in the relatively early days of their relationship, not 3 or 4 or 5 years in. The longer the relationship, the stronger the relationship, the deeper the relationship, the harder and more painful the break up.
And you see, this is the thing.
Healthy long term relationships aren't like a soap opera. Their real lives are not The bold and the beautiful, getting together 'love of their lives' style, then breaking up, marrying someone else, only to get back together and so forth time after time. Real life isn't like that. A relationship, a healthy one, cannot survive that constant turn on turn off. And it's even harder to turn on turn off in the speed that people are attributing to them. Love is not a switch you can turn on and off. And 2 people that supposedly love each other and basically can't keep their hands off each other moments before or moments after that supposed few second moment that makes people think they are not together anymore, is not realistic to say the very least.
And as far as I can see, their relationship is not a tumultuous one. Quite the opposite (especially once they got over that push and pull in 2015-16).
Now, with saying all that, couples, they argue, they fight, they wake up one morning in a bad mood, they allow external factors to influence their mood and at times their interactions with their loved one. Life happens. And these are a real life couple, even if they are 2 members of BTS, the biggest band in the world.
Not every argument or fight ends in the finality of a break up. Not every time you are mad at your partner or even pissed to the bone at them, do you split up.
As individuals we can have bad days. And that can affect our behaviour even towards those we love. Human interactions is what it is.
So, could we catch them unhappy with each other on camera from time to time?
Of course we can.
Can we see them being passive aggressive with each other? Mad at the other? Just unhappy or mad period (not necessarily at the other but in a bad mood that effects their interactions with anyone and everyone around them)?
Of course we can.
None of that is automatically proves a break up. None of it.
A couple of examples of instances we KNOW that one of them was pissed at the other.
Summer package 2018, the dream catcher necklace drama.
Basically JM pissed at JK not wanting to wear it as a necklace and guess who had that necklace on a second later...
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And what about the NJ live 2019? JK pissed that JM and Jin turned off the live just as he got to Jin's room, starting his own live to show us that JM came to ask for forgiveness after being scolded by JK.
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Neither relationship ending differences (although that could also depend on the relationship I guess), but examples of 'arguments' or differences they had that we know of because they either happened on camera or they told us of them themselves.
Another time we see them clearly upset at each other is the Gayo song festival Dec 2016. Clearly something going on, but we don't know what.
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And here too, only days after the event, all was well between them, JK making his babe laugh while imitating Rainism's dance moves.
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Point being, once again - yes they argue, get mad at each other (and 2016 was peak push and pull between the two, laying the grounds for their relationship), but from there to calling quits... nope.
And there would be many other moments we are unaware of. Cause that's just how relationships are. Loving each other doesn't mean agreeing on every single thing. It would many times mean compatibility (for a long term relationship to last), but compatibility doesn't mean being a mould of each other.
Now specifically to the examples you mention:
2018 Jikook were stronger than ever. This is after their Tokyo trip, which they just would not shut up about. You can see them in interviews, in award shows, in other footage from that time (including BV 3 in Malta). I really do not understand where these rumours of a break up at that time are coming from.
Saying that, I am aware that there are those that think that part of the struggles the members were going through in 2018 that almost let to them disbanding also included JM and JK splitting up. I beg to differ. At least from the content we have from 2018 (I don't claim to have inside info going back to 2018 and the status of their relationship). I actually believe that having each other during that time made it easier for them to deal with the hardships (kind of like how JK being by JM's side helped him deal with everything he was going through in 2020, and JM being there, as much as he could under the circumstances, for JK who was struggling early 2023). Throughout the content (official and unofficial) from 2018, start to end, we see how close and utterly in love they are with each other.
See beginning to mid 2018 Jikook interactions in my 2018 timeline.
And things were no different in the second half of the year.
All this happened in 2018:
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Could they have had ups and downs?
Of course they could have. All long term relationships have those, even the best of them. But again, split up or broken up? Nope, not in my opinion.
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Then we have the 2019 break up claims.
I think that if JK and JM were not together in 2019 during the time the band were on a break that JM wouldn't have made the effort and flown all the way back to see him for his birthday, nor would JK tattoo that J over the M right after that.
I think that JM going on those trips was them allowing each other that time to spend with their friends doing the things they want to do on their time off. That's what you call a healthy relationship btw. Allowing each other to grow as an individual, spend time with your friends, travel cause that's what you love to do, something that we learnt back in 2018 Malta that isn't something that JK really loved to do back in the day - could have changed, as people grow and change, but at the time didn't really interest him (perhaps especially seeing it wouldn't be the two of them alone).
We know from Hobi and JK that it's not like the two (JK and JM) weren't seeing each other or getting together over the break. It's only that JM went travelling and JK didn't.
And btw, these three were basically the only ones that did see each other over the break. If indeed the two broke up, would they be spending that time that they can together and not apart? Choosing to get together when they aren't obliged to do so being part of the band and having to work with each other?
And again, looking at 2019, before and after the break, the two seem stronger than ever. 2019 muster before, for example.
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Damn that pic limit, I could go on with these forever.
And right after we had BV4,
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And their final Seoul concerts October 2019.
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Next you also mentioned the behind scenes of the Black swan MV shoot as an example used to claim that JM and JM were not together at the time.
Another good example to show you how this conclusion making is so ridiculous. They are literally taking one little moment from that MV shoot and creating a whole breakup narrative, all while from the same MV shoot we have the two full on having a flirt fest in front of our salads. Including that whole JM calling I love you to JK and him turning around all giddy-bashful.
SAME MV SHOOT.
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Then you mention Grammy's 2020. First I've heard of them being broken up during that period. But let's look at what we have either from same night or the days before and after.
James Corden carpool karaoke January 2020. JM's excitement with JK's vocals and JK's incapable of keeping his eyes off JM.
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Grammy's night
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That moment there.
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And for those that claim it isn't JM JK is looking at, well who's wittle nose is that turned towards JK?
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Nope. No broken up couple detected.
I Heart Radio
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Someone holding on real tight to his man.
When exactly did they have time to break up, with all the shit that entails with a break up and then get back together like nothing happened, all lovey dovey and hot for each other?
I will tell you when I find these rumours of breakup happen.
They happen when there isn't much group content and the two of them don't volunteer much, such as telling us about them spending time together or interacting on social media with each other (surprise surprise when two people are together that they don't interact on sm, even more so their public accounts). And god forbid they are seen with others out and about instead with each other. That for sure means they are not together anymore. Eye roll. Eye roll. Eye roll.
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Bottom line, you're probably saying "about bloody time"...
In my opinion all this talk about multiple break ups (and btw, same people claiming a break up in early 2022 and then 2023) is a whole load of bs. Arguments, no doubt. Bad day, 100%. We all have those. But breaking up or even, if you wish to soften it a little by calling it "taking a break" - nope. I personally do not believe this to be the case.
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xkotaro16w · 1 day
Text
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—𝙻𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚊 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝙷𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚃𝚠𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝙲𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝙳𝚞𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗 𝙰𝚌𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝙰𝚕𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚢 𝙲𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜—
Summary: Scenario/short scenario where Leona has a twin or a clone of him due to an accident in his alchemy class.
Pairing: Leona Kingscholar x GN!S/O.
CW: Fluff, swearing, slight comedy (?), grammatical error, OOC.
A/N: NOT ME RLY MAKING THIS AS A SCENARIO MABEFAKJFGBWKJB I HOPE U LIKE IT EHE (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.゚ Do u know Aomine Daiki (THE ONLY 1 WHO CAN BEAT ME IS ME-)
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What a miracle, Leona went to his class! Thanks to you who blackmailed him (sweetly), so he can attend the class. Now that you remember it again, alchemy class in here is like a whole circus!
Yes, a whole circus! Remember that day when Grim almost set the class on fire? Or perhaps the ADeuce almost blown off the class (or they did it once)? Perhaps in a worse case is Rook’s experiments. It is hilarious, dangerous, but also fun at the same time! This time is more hilarious. Another accident happened in alchemy class, more correctly Leona’s class. The victim? Leona himself. The perpetrator? Let us search who is it later. The smoke starts to surround the room, the students are running out from the class and coughing.
Oh no, the lion beastman will tear whoever that person is who did this to him. Rook calls out at his name and searches for him. This class will get a long lecture from Crewel later after he helps Leona.
“Roi du Leon! Are you alright?”
Rook grabs his shoulder and Leona’s nostril feels like it is dead because of the poison’s scent. They thought they are the only students left inside the class, not until another familiar voice comes out from the smoke.
“What the fuck? Ugh, this is why I do not wanna attend these stupid classes…”
Wait, what? The hunter’s face looks very surprised and stares back at Leona. No, he did not say anything. Then, who? The mysterious person comes out from the smoke and stares both at Leona and Rook with surprise.
Oh, this is hilarious.
Before Leona could open his mouth, Crewel’s voice rings to their ears. As soon as the smoke becomes thinner, people still only can see half of their bodies. Even Crewel could not believe what he sees! Leona Kingscholar is TWO, NOT ONE! Twins? Clone? What? How? Even Leona himself does not understand what just happened! The teacher sighs and tells them to get out from the class first. The students stare at the twins! Clone? Twin? One Leona is more than enough, BUT TWO? Oh, dear Great Seven, please spare the students’ life. They are not going to make it with two Leonas. One is… A threat to their lives already.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“No, who the fuck are you, huh?”
“Stop imitating me, bastard!”
This scene is very hilarious! Leona vs. Leona himself. Gosh, Rook almost laughs at the scene! Who would not laugh in here? Leona cursing to himself! Gold moment, everyone. Crewel comes out from the class and explains the potion that got Leona. Of course, as a teacher of alchemy, he MUST bring his student back to their normal form. Crewel tells Leona to wait while he makes the potion to cure him.
The twins grunt and mumble about classes are stupid and waste their nap times. When they head to the Botanical Garden, they can hear Ruggie’s surprise’s voice. One Leona is enough to make the hyena suffers, AND NOW TWO? Good luck, Ruggie. Ruggie drops the bag accidentally from his hand. What is this? What? Two Leonas? Which one is the real one? Is this the end of Ruggie’s life? The left Leona growls and gives a short explanation about what happened. Now that makes Ruggie laughs. Come on, it is RARE for him to be a victim in the alchemy class, right? Unless someone is very desperate to die in his hand.
After a few minutes of them chattering, you come to the Botanical Garden. It is time to visit your lazy boyfriend! As you open the Botanical Garden’s door, two lions look towards you. Wait, why are there two Leonas? Who is this? Leona’s secret twin? Or perhaps someone is cosplaying as Leona? Is he Farena who disguise himself as Leona so he could watch over Leona?
The lion sighs and explains ONCE MORE just for you, their beloved herbivore. Can you handle two Leonas at the same time, herbivore? You will learn from now on, good luck for you too! Ruggie excuses himself and whispers good luck to you. This is going to be difficult and it is going to be a very long day. When you want to sit down, the right Leona pulls you to his lap and causes you to sit on his lap.
“C’mere, herbivore…”
“Hey! Don’t just snatch away MY herbivore!”
“YOURS? Who the fuck- “
“Stop it, Leona… S?”
They look at you with a sharp gaze. Alright, this is VERY difficult. They keep fighting whose herbivore are you! His or his, left or right, Leona or Leona, etc. Even during the whole lunch time, these lions cannot shut up.
“Ok, enough…”
As his, no, THEIR S/O, you try to make them shut up and stop the fighting. As you sigh and look at the two of them, you try to advise them that you are their significant other because both are the same person. Right?  When the nap time comes again, you feel like you are trapped in between two clingy lions. You cannot and will not be able to get away from Leona(s). You are lying down in the middle of two huge lion beastmen and you expect yourself to escape from there? How fool of you, S/O.
Even when Leona has a magift practice, you should have seen Jack and Epel reactions seeing two Leonas are going to play and practice magift. Is this what you call your biggest rival is yourself? 
“Le-Leona senpai?! Wh-who is this beside you?!” Jack points at the other Leona, who cares which one is real at this point.
“Leona-san?! Why there are two of you?!” Epel says right after Jack spoke.
The lion beastman only growls in frustration, does he need to explain it again and again? Yet for this time he only says it was an accident in alchemy class by a bastard student he is still searching their head, which makes them wonder who has the audacity to do this to the Leona Kingscholar.
When you watch the practice itself, you can see everyone is looking at you to help them escape this hell immediately. Why is that damn Crewel taking too much time to make the cure? Cannot he see that the whole academy is suffering with two Leonas (except Rook who enjoys it and thinks of it as a part of… Amusement to his own needs). Ruggie suggests to put one Leona in a team, and put the other to the other team, so it will balance each team (who wants to play magift with two Leonas in one team anyway?). Leona sighs, thinking that it does not sound bad either. Unfortunately, today’s practice does feel like hell itself. Each time is very exhausted dealing with Leona. Surprisingly Leona enjoys it, who would have thought that dealing with himself in magift is thrilling, unlike dealing the other weaklings. Maybe he should try to challenge the other him in a chess, that would be interesting.
At the end of the day, Leona prefers to have just one of him because he can have you all by himself. Right after Crewel gives him the potion for the cure, the other him disappears, making the whole Savannaclaw can breathe again. It is suffocating to have two Leonas for the Savannaclaw’s students. If they fuck up and make Leona’s mood worse, say good bye! May the Great Seven bless their souls. All he needs is your touch after he is back to normal and after dealing with a lot of annoying things. Oh, no worries, he WILL NOT forgive the perpetrator who did this to him. He sighs in relief and pulls you closer to his body. Now, you are all his alone.
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I DO NOT OWN TWISTED WONDERLAND & DO NOT REPOST MY WORKS.
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appleblueberry-pie · 3 days
Note
Honestly trauma bonding is the way to go 😌✨
Reader who adopted a child and loved them more than anything in the world, since she had no family or pets (being spiderwoman is a sacrifice, after all.).
Reader's Green Goblin killed their child brutally in front of her, leaving Reader with immense trauma and depression. (After torturing and then killing GG in the same gruesome way as he did with her child)
Reader who abandons being a Spider-person and goes back to her old job, being a professional gymnast.
Miguel who finds Reader's world, and asks who there isn't a Spider there if the canon event of the radioactive spider biting someone happened long ago.
Miguel who investigating, finds out that Reader is the spider there, however they abandoned their heroic life (mostly because of backlash from the media)
Miguel who one day goes to Reader's house to get answers, first explaining who he is and what the fuck that orange portal is 💀
Miguel understands how Reader feels and explains his backstory, and persuades (forces) Reader to join the Spider Society.
Miguel, that slowly falls in love with Reader and turns into an obsession. Maybe in the future, he can give Reader his kids so they won't have to grieve as much for their dead kids.
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You were meant for him.
He shouldn't say that, but no bone or muscle in his entire body disagreed with this statement that he is claiming.
He fell in love with you before he even realized it and happily accepted the fall, knowing just from how you spoke to him, that you know how to love. You love the way that he wants to be loved. And he wants that. He wants you.
He was so goddamn in love with everything about you. He loves the way you speak, the way you carry yourself, the way you look at people, and the way you look at him.
He wants those eyes on him all of the time. So, he tries to work for it.
You looked so tired every single day. Since he found you alone in your apartment of your universe, he knew you held luggage no one else had behind them.
He wanted to at least take half of the weight off of your shoulders. He wanted to brush the midnight tears off of your face. He wanted kiss your callused hands. He wanted to have you.
He truly believes he can fix you.
"There is no fixing me. Nobody can save me."
He had never been so tuned into a conversation before. Mask off, sitting across from you in your living room, on the edge of his seat, staring into your iron eyes. You didn't want to let anyone back in again.
Hearing about your past only made him more determined.
"I can't put that suit back on again.....no. I killed enough people and killed off enough of myself. I don't benefit from that life anymore. Hell, my own city that I fought for doesn't want me anymore. Why the fuck would I even bother trying??" You try to laugh it off and killed the rest of your drink.
"The only person that could make me put that back on is the one I did all of this bullshit for."
You let the silence grow for a little to collect the words building up in your throat. But to speak it was a different battle.
"S/he was mine. S/he was all I had. Every day I had to wake up and go to sleep seeing her/his face, and it's all I needed to continue living another fucking day. And s/he's gone! I thought sparing lives would do me good, and now my babygirl/boy is gone. What the fuck am I supposed to do?" You whispered the words, as if it was forbidden to even speak them aloud.
And every single word you spoke made Miguel feel like he was living in your skin. Every question you asked, everything you said you felt is so close to experience of losing his little girl, it makes him nauseous. He only knew you for a few hours and already wanted to hold you in his arms.
"I can't....I just...can't put that thing back on. I really can't. I'm sorry." Your words slowly turned into a mutter as you fidgeted with your hands.
He doesn't know how many hopeful "yes, you can"s he whispered back to you with comforting (consensual) hugs before you had on that damned suit again and was in the middle of HQ.
His room was quiet. Peaceful, as he typed away on his technology you weren't interested in at all.
You felt so naked in the suit, but for some reason, it made you feel more secure than you'd ever felt these past few years......maybe this would be okay for now.
Miguel looked back at you, seeing you staring off into the distance and stopped typing to place his hand on your shoulder.
You looked up at him with those sad, tired eyes. Just seeing your face as clearly as it was, it continued to give him hope to be the one to support your during your healing process. You clearly needed the help. And if anyone could do it well, he was certain that it would be him.
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hippolotamus · 2 days
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another installment of what I'm calling the cleopatra series. this time from Eddie's POV because I got in my Buddie feels. part 1 here 💙
late for the love of my life | 7x06 Coda | 912 words | G
“Hey, how was it?” Marisol wraps her arms around his waist, giving him a peck on the lips. 
Eddie barely suppresses the urge to flinch and turn away. Which is maybe a tad dramatic, except for the way it isn’t. Because the past 24 hours have held more than a few revelations. None of which Eddie is ready to share. 
Despite the layers of clothing between them, his skin tingles and crawls where she touches him. If he didn’t have years of experience being exposed to fluids, substances and people he didn’t want anywhere near him, he thinks he would have wrenched away from her by now. No, he definitely would have. But he’s a professional at hiding his personal reactions, both on and off the job. 
Yes, he’s made progress in therapy, but the instincts to hide himself, to put up walls and masks, are still easily activated. Handy for moments like now, when he can’t escape his girlfriend. Or when he has to smile big for the crowd and pretend the perpetual feelings for his best friend don’t exist when said best friend barrels back into the room all lovestruck and covered in soot from his boyfriend. 
“It was good. Really nice, actually.” That much is true. Because it was. Honestly, the whole hospital room chic was perfectly Maddie and Chim. 
“Nice?” She asks in a teasing tone, squeezing tighter and clinging to his torso like a koala. 
His breathing is acceptably even but the urge to peel her off, to tell her that she should probably go home because his heart rate is skyrocketing, his fingers and toes are tingling, and he’s beginning to feel claustrophobic is anything but. His built in panic mode suspects there isn’t enough Jell-o in the universe to undo this. Again, dramatic, but he thinks he’s within his rights to think so right now. 
“Yeah, I-” He pinches the bridge of his nose, squeezes his eyes shut and inhales as deeply as he can manage. “Y’know, I’m, uh, still feeling a little worse for wear from last night. I should-” He doesn’t even finish the sentence, just points vaguely in the direction of his bedroom. 
Marisol’s relaxed ‘welcome home’ look turns concerned as she furrows her brow and holds the back of her hand to his forehead. “Are you okay? Do you want me to stay? I should probably stay over in case you need–” 
“Really,” he interjects, backing out of her hold, “I’ll be fine. Just need to sleep it off, I think. You should go. Home. To your place.” Smooth, Diaz. “I mean, because I’ll probably be restless, y’know?”
“I can sleep on the cou-”
“No,” he says more forcefully than intended. He should be grateful she wants to stay and take care of him. He should. He is. But not the couch. Not… Buck’s bed. His place. Their place.
“Oh.” She takes a step back and he should probably feel worse about the way she looks so dejected. “I, um, I understand. Talk tomorrow?”
“Yeah, talk tomorrow.” 
Tomorrow when I’ve had a chance to reset. When the twin alcohol and love hangovers have hopefully, finally died off. When I’m not seeing an endless mental projection reel of reminders like Or, y’know, you could have mine. Then why are you in hospital jail? Stay with me, Buck. Him choking on blood. You saved him. Abby. His fiancee is Abby. Showoff. My blood on him. Hey, Buck. You think you’re expendable. They’re all dead. I, uh, misunderstood the assignment. Three minutes and seventeen seconds. She sees me. It was a date. 
The front door clicks in the latch and he immediately turns the deadbolt, noting how his pulse drops to a debatably more normal range. He wants to settle on the couch, under the covers in his bed, both and neither all at the same time. In the end he migrates to the kitchen, which really shouldn’t surprise him. 
He runs his fingers over the backs of the chairs, circling around until he’s standing between the table and main counter. Am I one of the things that makes you sad? So now am I allowed to ask how you are? But you do eventually - you process it? 
Eddie turns toward the fridge, drawn to Shannon’s photo. He plucks it from under the magnet, running his thumb over the glossy print. 
“Can never quite get my timing down, can I?” He huffs out a wet chuckle. “God, I wish you were here right now. I could really use someone to talk to.” 
If it wasn’t after midnight he would probably drive himself to the cemetery to sit on the stone bench. To talk to someone that can’t talk back but would nonetheless tell him what an idiot he is. To unfairly water her grave with tears shed because he always thinks he has more time. You might have noticed I almost died. Again. And then I thought, this is it. This is the last day of my life. We’re all going to die alone. That’s what she said to me and Hen. 
Truthfully he’s not sure who he’s thinking of more — Shannon or Buck — as he slides to the floor, still clutching her picture, beginning to sob and shake as the words I love you so much flash like a neon reminder of his poor timing. Does it really matter? Because either way he’s missed his chance. 
But I guess it’s your mess now. 
Part 3 (Buck's POV)
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sorrelchestnut · 1 day
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One thing that annoys me post-Fallout tv show is that I keep seeing people complain that they canonized who dropped the bombs after all these years, and I agree that would be a shitty and terrible thing to do, narratively, because not knowing is very much the point. However:
They did not, in fact, do that.
What they did was canonize that Vault-Tec intended the bombs to be dropped - but that isn't exactly groundbreaking news. Simply looking at the existence of the vaults could tell you that. If all the vaults were legit then simply selling the promise of safety works in the absence of actual war, but that is very explicitly not what most of those vaults were about. Every single vault with a fucked-up experiment involved - i.e., most of them - required the end of the world to actually happen in order to serve their purpose, so it was inevitable that Vault-Tec hastened the end. I really don't know jack shit about any of the intricacies of canon pre-FO4 because I've never played them and wiki only gets me so far, but even I know that. It's baked into the premise.
But something that people are kind of forgetting here is that just because someone plans to do something, that does not mean that they go on to actually do it. Intention does not equal outcome: any number of things could have led to the bombs dropping, with or without Vault-Tec's intervention. Hell, they could have done their best to hasten things along and then fucked it up so bad they made it take longer, we don't know. Anything could have happened in the (probably at least a) year between that secret meeting and the day the bombs fell, and the show didn't canonize jack shit we didn't already know. Except for one thing:
The other corporations were all in on it.
That was the shocking thing to me - not shocking as implausible, mind you, just shocking as in "oh shit they went there." That's the shiny new worm in the apple that I wish more people were talking about because hoo boy, way to understand the fuckin' assignment, writers. That it wasn't just Vault-Tec, it was all of them, every single one of those greedy megalomaniacal fucks trampling each other to shove their snouts in the apocalypse trough. Because at the end of the day, the end of the world didn't happen because on single board of executives were uniquely terrible people. The end of the world happened because everyone at the top of the food chain thought the world would be better off if only they could control what kind of people would be allowed to live in it.
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