#the problem lies in explaining *how* he reached a conclusion

[nyx-umbrakinesis]

Minors DNI

Radioapple

Alastor X Lucifer

Warnings; 18+ only, biting, blood, blood consuming (Alastor mild), bondage, anal sex, Alastor Dom, Luci Sub, collar, choking, chains, scratching.

Harm to a cucumber 😂(not in that way)

3k(ish) words.

Desperate Times.

Tossing and turning that night, his bed covers tangled around his legs, sweat beading on his forehead, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he pants, his hole felt swollen almost itchy with need, his cock throbbed painfully and precum dripped from the tip, growling in frustration as his fingers couldn't quite reach what he needed them to.

Lucifer withdraws them angrily and throws on some white trousers, stealthily sneaking out of his room and downstairs with one goal in mind, (as he'd spotted it earlier when he was grabbing a snack)...

Grabbing his treasure from the cold box he practically runs back upstairs, speed being essential for his 'problem' as it throbs again reminding him of it's urgency and desperate need.

"Why do you have a cucumber?"

~Shit~ Lucifer freezes, embarrassed at being caught and keeping his back to Alastor, so the overlord doesn't spot the darker patch, or his obvious bulging erection through his thin trousers.

"I errm... Fancied a midnight snack." Lucifer says gruffly, almost kicking himself at the bad lie, giving a nervous laugh, without turning.

Alastor's eyes narrow suspiciously and subtly draws on his powers, as a precaution.

"You HATE cucumber" Alastor says in a steady voice, his grin tightening.

Lucifer almost panics, unaware of the situation going on behind him, his focus now split between trying to get rid of Alastor as quickly as possible and the aching intensity between his thighs.

"Not THIS cucumber. I like this one..."

Lucifer's heart is pounding he knows Alastor isn't that dumb, but his own brain (which isn't as fast as Alastor's on a good day), is currently preoccupied and swollen below his waistband.

"It's a cucumber, Lucifer, they taste the same, there's no difference."

Alastor smirks now as he sees the shiver and goosebumps travel up Lucifer's spine at the sound of his voice, putting together everything in context and even relaxing again as he comes to a conclusion that explains Lucifer's odd behaviour.

"Well..I erm...I'm just kinda hungry..."

Alastor smile strains, he despises being lied to by Lucifer.

"What are you doing with that fucking cucumber, Lucifer Morningstar?!" He hisses dangerously.

Lucifer nearly hyperventilating, trying defensively to get Alastor to back down. "LISTEN, WHY DON'T YOU MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS OKAY?!"

Alastor snaps, striding forward, his firm hand grabs him by the shoulder and spinning Lucifer around, taking the King of Hell by surprise, smirking down at the much shorter, angelic man. He chuckles as he tries to pluck the cucumber out of Lucifer's grasp.

Lucifer keeps a firm grip however with a slight growl, Alastor smirks as he twists his wrist and snaps the offending salad ingredient with ease instead, Lucifer almost whines in frustration.

"Don't lie to me Lucifer... Tell the truth and I might consider giving you exactly what you need... If you keep lying to me however," his voice crackles and deepens, "there will be consequences... consequences you won't enjoy so much."

Alastor's voice returns to it's normal static cadence, "Now tell me... What were you going to do with the cucumber?"

Alastor's hand comes to rest against Lucifer's throat loosely, making the King back up towards his own bedroom door.

Lucifer doesn't resist, mind back on his cock that's straining for release at the act of dominance, he whimpers as the front of Alastor's trousers rub against him, noting the Radio Demon's antlers had grown exponentially.

"Was going to..." Lucifer groans at another rub against his bottom half, he conceeds knowing how good Alastor can be, taking a deep breath, "I was going to bury it deep in my arsehole because I need to cum," He intones in defeat.

"Good boy," Alastor praises, patting his head in a patronising manner, voice lowering deliciously, his red eyes glinting dangerously, Lucifer feels his cock throb and weep, "Now get in your room, strip and get on all fours on your bed, whilst I go and get the chains." Alastor orders quite cheerfully.

Lucifer had never moved faster in his entire life, scurrying off to his room to do exactly that, discarding the snapped cucumber carelessly, as he nearly tears his trousers in his haste to get them off, bounding onto the bed and orienting himself so his needy arse is facing toward the open bedroom door.

"Good doggy" Alastor's voice says mockingly from behind him as the door snaps shut, Lucifer's whole body shivers with need as he feels the slight breeze of Alastor moving behind him, the rattling of chain making his body tense.

He feels the ice cold metal trace down his spine, making him groan and bow his back, presenting his swollen little hole, as an offering to his 'master'.

"Don't make me beg" Lucifer growls after a long pause.

"After the stunt you just pulled in the hall, that's exactly what I expect you to do," Alastor barks, as a hard stinging hand connected with the firm rounded flesh of Lucifer's arsecheek, making him moan.

The chain loops around each of Lucifer's ankles and criss crosses up his legs, winding around his thick thighs and up his torso, teasingly gliding over his nipples and winding down his arms and around his wrists of their own accord, finally pulling taught and melding seamlessly with the bedframe at Alastor's behest, via his use of powers.

"Fuck." Lucifer exclaims, panting again, the cold steel making him rut against thin air, a trail of drool sliding from the corner of his open mouth.

Alastor's expression becomes even more malicious as he walks around Lucifer's tightly bound form, stopping directly in front of the 'helpless' fallen angel, holding up the collar in his hands, a challenging brow raised.

"Please." Lucifer says eagerly, going mad with lust, bucking his hips again, his cock urgent and blush coloured with how hard he is.

-Tsk tsk- "You can beg better than that." Alastor demands, almost mockingly, still fully clothed and smug, very much enjoying himself, refusing to touch Lucifer yet.

Lucifer groans again, the chains chafe his nipples as he tries to shift again, causing him to whimper again.

-Growls- "Fine..." Lucifer looks up at Alastor pleading for mercy, his own red and yellow eyes desperate but slightly defiant, not liking Alastor ordering him around so much, "Please Al, I'll be a good pet, please put the collar on me, I need it, please... Please."

"There's my good boy." Alastor praises and fastens the collar around Lucifer's throat with ease, tightening the straps expertly, making it so tight the collar cuts off some of his blood supply, causing Lucifer to have to work slightly harder for each breath.

Lucifer keens in delight, Alastor always was good at knowing exactly how tight to make the restraints, always dancing right on the borderline of limits of making things painful but always pleasurable.

"What do you say?" Alastor demands, walking back behind Lucifer with another vicious strike to his arse, causing him to howl and precum to drip onto the sheets below.

"Thank you... Alastor," Lucifer grunts through laboured breaths and whines.

Alastor hums pleased, removing his cufflinks, before slowly and meticulously unbuttoning his shirt, and divesting his scarred, pale, toned body of his own clothing, watching the muscles on Lucifer's back ripple from the strain, knowing his wings are aching to burst forth just from the eroticism of the situation, his need worsening, and Alastor's grin getting even sharper, his tail twitching now that he's drunk on having such power over the King himself and his cock hardening at Lucifer's whining at being so close to the solution for his 'problem'.

Lucifer trembles... he nearly begs again, maddening at Alastor taking his sweet time.

Alastor pumps his own elegant, rock hard length at the sight of Lucifer all bound and ready for him.

Lucifer's hole practically winking at him in its needy, puffy, damp state, from the abuse Lucifer had already put it through earlier, it did make Alastor's task a little easier though, he runs a claw down Lucifer's back, golden blood pooling on the surface as he barely scratches him.

Lucifer curses again as he feels a long, slender, incredibly sharp fingertip now nudging at his entrance, testing the readiness.

"Please Alastor." Lucifer cracks as he whimpers, straining against the chains, trying to rock back against the finger, trying to make him go deeper, needing to be impaled, "fuck sake Alastor, PLEASE!"

Alastor smirks evilly, still stroking his own hard cock, which throbs in response to the beggy whiny royal, enjoying the power he has over Lucifer, more than the actual act itself, as he teases and torments the needy king.

"Such a slut Lucifer" Alastor says in approval, before swiftly sinking two fingers right in, diving in deep, bringing his knuckles flush against Lucifer's warm, wet, spongy skin in one go, making Lucifer cry out and say a string of 'please's' and 'thank you's' his cock jumping at the contact.

Lucifer's hole throbbed and burned with need again, more so now than even before he had anything in there, as Alastor didn't move his fingers at all, torturing him with what could be.

Lucifer growls, "Don't push me too far," he warns, feeling slight anger, frustrated and warning Alastor that a shift in dynamics might be imminent if he keeps pushing his luck, his horns sprouting and fire appearing between them.

Alastor chuckles, but recognising his pet's limit conceeds and begins pump his fingers in and out of the tight, soft hole, stimulating and stretching him out for what is to come. "Calm yourself My Lord."

He smirks as he inserts a third finger, spreading them out, testing the resistance, as Lucifer's wings spring out, narrowly avoiding colliding with the Radio Demon as he moans loudly., much to his amusement.

"Fuck yes... Please, oh fuck please Alastor... I need more... Fuck... Ah... Fuck me with your cock." Lucifer begs, knowing exactly how to get what he needs from Alastor when he's on a power trip, the chains rattle and rub against his inner thighs as he tries to thrust back harder, but is almost completely immobilised by the restraints.

It's Alastor's turn to groan now as the desperate sound of Lucifer's voice gets to him, the lewd sight of Lucifer all spread open, restrained and begging for him making him almost lose his tight grip on control, he makes a low sound in his throat, his cock throbbing almost painfully and gets on the bed, on his knees behind Lucifer, using a shadow tentacle to strike his arse once more, harder than ever, making Lucifer's arse redden as he hisses in pain.

Fisting his cock, he rubs his spongy sensitive head up and down the spread crack of Lucifer's needy, warm exposure, using his other hand to tweek the lordships balls slightly in punishment, making his pet growl and whine simultaneously, Alastor's own precum wetting Lucifer's arse even more, a static shock zinging through both of them at the attention, Lucifer biting his own lip, drawing more blood.

"Do you want my cock Lu-Lu?" Alastor teases with a shark like grin, leaning over Lucifer's body, making the now warmed chains dig into each of their bodies at the pressure, licking one in delight, as he presses himself firmly against the needy presented hole of his liege, moaning at the metallic tang on his tongue, and proceeding to lick the angelic blood off the links with a moan of his own.

"Fuck... You" Lucifer growls at the nickname.

Alastor ignores the insult, chuckling he uses one of his hands to press against the front of the collar choking Lucifer further, making his tongue come back out, drool drizzling out as he gasps for breath.

Lucifer can only whimper and nod against the current strain, giving in, and Alastor released his throat again (pleased with the submission), to allow him to speak.

"Please... Please... Fuck me... Al..."

Finally accepting this plea and without further ado Alastor sinks in smoothly, both of them moan, at the tightness and the stretch.

Alastor showing restraint and letting Lucifer adjust slightly first, enjoying the warm tight sheeth clenching around him, basking in the power and sight of Lucifer's submission for several long moments more, waiting for the telltale rattle of chains as Lucifer gets impatient again... before smiling maliciously and thrusting brutally, picking up a punishing rhythm straight away, his hips snapping brutally, knowing Lucifer can take it.

His hard thrusts causing the chains to rattle even louder, digging into Lucifer's flesh, leaving imprints, their skin colliding making a wet sensational slapping sound, his hands gripping Lucifer's hips harshly, as the king moans and hisses 'yes's', finally getting what he needs, as he's hit right in the delectable spot he's been pleading for this whole time, his eyes rolling back in pleasure, howling, as he feels the itch rubbed and rubbed over and over again, building the sensations and pressure, Alastor's sensitive nose picking up both their natural musks, the recent scent of Lucifer's fresh blood and their combined lust, he licks his lips eagerly, keeping up his punishing pace.

"Fuck!"

Alastor's smirk gets even wider, his eyes heavily lidded, feeling Lucifer's slutty hole squeeze his cock hard as he tenses in pleasure, dragging every inch of his cock in and out of Lucifer's needy hole, making sure to go balls deep with every thrust making Lucifer cry out.

Alastor grinning, looking feral, reaches under Lucifer, grasping at the neglected thick, heavy cock swinging beneath, Rolling his hips to hit that special spot inside Lucifer again, feeling his own balls drawing up in ecstacy, sweat dripping down his nose and landing on Lucifer's bloody, glistening back.

Lucifer moans as Alastor's grasp is almost painful, claws piercing the flesh on his hip, as his velvet shaft gets pumped... One... Two... Three times, before he loses all sense of control, and cries out in bliss as ropes of his cum sprays aggressively onto the bed below him, over and over again as he bursts, it seems never ending as he loses all sense of the world around him, his wings shiver, rustling, his vision goes white, as he gets light headed.

Alastor feeling the vice grip around his own cock thrusts even harder into the warm channel punishingly, Lucifer's moaning increasing in volume is music to his ears, losing control of his demonic side slightly, he sees the shadow of his full grown antlers on the wall, blood dripping down his chin.

His own balls connecting with Lucifer's sting slightly at the force of his thrusts.

Slapping skin, sweat, pain and gasping, he leans over, his body dwarfing Lucifer's trembling frame, his sharp teeth dig into the flesh they find purchase on near his neck, tasting more of the golden ambrosia.

Alastor moans, then growls out his own release, twitching, pulsing and throbbing deliciously to completion, his hips stuttering but strong, making sure to thrust every single drop inside the thoroughly used hole of the now limp King of Hell, who is now only upright due to the tight chains binding him.

Alastor takes a moment to catch his breath before sliding lewdly out of the widened dripping hole that had been cradling his softening limb, with a hiss.

Lucifer whimpers slightly, a lamenting sound as his senses return, he slowly comes down from the buzz, his wings folding away carefully.

Alastor still calming his own heart rate, uses his powers, releasing Lucifer from the bonds, Lucifer nearly drops right into the puddle of his own cum, but manages to swiftly roll over and away from the wet patch, onto his back, gasping and panting for air. "Dick," he accuses.

Alastor hums and goes to remove the collar, but Lucifer shakes his head.

"Leave it on just a little longer please?" Lucifer smirks at the look on Alastor's face, his drained cock pressing wetly against his thigh.

Alastor laughs, and in a sing song voice, "Very well, don't say I never do anything for you."

Amused as he cleans the bed with some more convenient magic, so that he can lay down too, his own spent cock feeling a bit cold and exposed now.

He gets under the covers, seeking the solace of the shelter. He allows Lucifer to nuzzle into his chest, Alastor's tail wags hidden from Lucifer at the affection, Lucifer's eyes close, sleepily, sated.

"And Lucifer?"

"Hmm?"

"Leave the fucking vegetables alone from now on."

#hazbin hotel #radioapple #lucifer hazbin smut #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin #alastor smut #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin #alastor the radio demon #alastor x lucifer #hazbin alastor #alastor

[melonisopod]

Hon we need to get you some Adderall.

#limbus company #Heathcliff LCB #i adore sevencliff so much cause he’s just demonstrably autistic and adhd #he’s good at solving cases he just struggles to organize his thoughts #that he’s competent enough to work as a detective shows he really is smart #he just needs some help keeping track of hard data/taking notes on cases #and he ends up having to work late into the night to have his paperwork organized #i was super excited to see this ID come out because it really spells out how he’s not stupid #that he *is* smart but struggles to articulate or organize his thoughts #yet he has a very innate intuitive sense and can piece together evidence effectively #the problem lies in explaining *how* he reached a conclusion #if i make (another) ‘Heathcliff is smart actually’ essay I’m going to list sevencliff as an example

[cobwebcorner]

How to Character

Was reminiscing for the days when I, as a small teen, wrote horrendous zelda fanfic and how I really really wanted to be able to write everyone in character but I had no idea how. I ended up giving everyone one or two Quirks or Bits and that was it, that was their character. I made Skullkid a pervert and gave Ganondorf a gambling problem. It was the best I could do at 16. In service to past me, I thought I'd put together a ramble about how to write a pre-existing character In Character. Maybe it'll help someone who's just starting out.

Point 1: He wouldn't Fucking Say That Check the canon and determine how the character talks. Are they formal or informal? Do they use sayings from a particular region? Do they swear or not? In most cases older characters aren't going to be using the most hip slang, and will be a little more formal. Also, no one should be talking like a therapist (unless they are a therapist. Hannibal fandom gets a pass). Here's an example of a character voice breakdown: Albert Wesker speaks somewhat formally, is likely to use complex vocabulary or 'science-y' language (fucking complete local saturation goddammit) (but he does not do this as often as you'd think), and doesn't swear unless it's a dire situation. He also doesn't use slang.

Now there's another layer to dialog to consider too: directness, lying, euphemisms, and hypocrisy. These are things that can vary depending on which characters are talking, what they're talking about, and if they're in public or private. In general, you're more likely to be direct and truthful with friends and loved ones, while strangers are more likely to get told white lies, vague euphemisms, or to be redirected entirely off of sensitive topics. This isn't true in all cases, so it's another thing to watch out for in the canon. An example: Luis Serra and Leon Kennedy (Remake edition) are both very cagey with each other from the start. Leon has to badger Luis multiple times just to get an answer for why Luis is helping him. Luis is exceptionally good at dodging questions he doesn't want to answer, and for his part, Leon has no interest in explaining his mission or backstory to this shady guy.

Point 2: He Wouldn't Fucking Do That Here are some aspects to consider when plotting a character's actions.

Morality: What are the character's values? What are their hard lines in the sand, and what do they see as a gray area? What are their goals? How important to them are those goals, and what are they willing to sacrifice to reach them? What kinds of things can push them to break with their values, or even rewrite them completely?

Intelligence: This isn't just 'how smart are they' on a pure IQ level. How much do they think things through, versus acting on instinct? Do they panic? Do they have a plan or are they flying by the seat of their pants? Do they think quickly, or do they need time to process? Are they really confident about some inaccurate piece of information that could lead them to wrong conclusions (see also: distorted worldviews, best applied to villains)? What are their biases? Are they observant or do they miss a lot of things?

Emotions: Are they repressed or are they in touch with their feelings? Do they mask their feelings, or are they openly emotional? Do they compartmentalize? How much self-control do they have? Are they hot-tempered or cold? Once they've been angered, does it burn out quickly or do they hold a grudge for ages? What scares them, and how brave are they when they have to face those things? How about their emotional intelligence? Do they have any idea why they're acting the way they are, or are they not thinking about it? (It's fine and normal for you, the author, to understand how a character is feeling more than the character does. Also, more importantly, there's ways to convey how they're feeling other than just having the character say it out loud) It's better to think of all these things as sliders instead of modes.

Point 3: Shipping. Yeah I know why you're all here This is an area where we have to make up a lot of stuff ourselves. Either the canon doesn't dwell on the romances and leaves us lacking in detail, or the two characters never got together in canon (or, cough, never even met), so we have to figure out how they would work in a relationship by our lonesome. How do you do that while keeping people in character?

Step 1: build up each character's sexuality, their relationship with their sexuality/sex in general, their taste in other people, and how they react to feelings.

Example using canon reference: Ada Wong has a canonical soft spot for Leon Kennedy. You can then look at Leon's character traits / actions and use that to figure out what Ada's tastes are. She rarely expresses this softness openly, and enjoys teasing him and running off. From this, we can guess that she's probably not the type to settle down as a domestic housewife and invest in a serious, traditional long-term relationship. Example without canon reference: Vergil Sparda managed to make a son, but we've never seen him in a relationship of any kind and we know very little about Nero's mother (other than she was in a cult that worshiped Vergils' father so…there's some interesting implications). Instead, we can make guesses about Vergil's tastes based on what he values, as well as his own character traits. Vergil's a proud perfectionist who values power above all things. He is constantly driven to prove himself. So, it's a safe guess that he would be drawn to people who are strong fighters or otherwise highly skilled in their field, or people who boost his ego (again, see: one night stand with a woman from a cult that worshiped his father).

Building up what two characters' tastes are, as well as what things they might hold in common, is very useful for the 'getting together' stage. If you're shipping two characters, you probably already have an idea why you think they would work together. Just invest that into their characterization as they encounter each other.

Step 2: staying themselves while staying together I think it's tempting to start following a "this is what characters in love do" playbook once you've gotten your lovebirds together, instead of considering what the characters would really be like in a relationship. I see so many of those 'headcanon' posts going around that just sound like generic lists of behaviors instead of things a specific character would do based on their history and personality. I'm going to point back up to the 'emotions' paragraph and say that this is a really big thing to keep in mind when writing romances. Emotional expression versus repression and emotional intelligence play a huge role in how two characters will act and react to each other. Do the characters even realize what they're feeling for each other? Once they've accepted it, how do they act on it? Are their feelings more important than other goals in their life? Where does their new partner rank on their list of priorities?

By all means, let characters change a little around their partner. People have many facets and often shift what face is showing depending on who they're around, so someone who is loved and trusted will get to see a different side than Joe Nobody on the street. However, the change can't be so drastic it's unbelievable. Any really significant change in characterization needs to have work put in for it to happen. Also, try to avoid the tired trope of the magical healing cock. Relationships don't solve people's problems. If anything, they can add a lot of new complications.

Step 3: getting spicy As someone who finds 90% of written smut so boring I skim over it, let me just get up on a soap box for a minute and point out that using it as a form of character study makes it so much more interesting. Not every sex scene has to be about two characters doing everything right and having totally optimized sexy as possible sex with their flawless bodies. Let them goof off, let them mess up, let them banter, let them be weird and gross and human. Kink, especially, has a deep psychological aspect that is fun to explore with different characters. I keep a little file with some general characterization notes for my major players, and part of that is a list of what they're into, what they're 'meh' about, what is a hard "no" for them, and why. It's a fun exercise.

#writing advice #writing fanfic #characterization #this is mostly for people writing fanfiction

[zoeykallus]

Tech Oneshot – Oblivious

Tech x GN!Reader Oneshot

Warning: Angsty/Hurty/Fluffy/ Oblivious Tech / Nervous Tech

______________

Author's Comment:

This guy lives rent-free in my head, and so there are a thousand scenarios in which he appears. This is one of them. Tech doesn't get the reader's hints until his brothers help him. But even then, his conclusion is flawed.

______________

Oblivious

You've been traveling with the Bad Batch for a while now. Actually, it was more pleasant than you expected, the guys were decent. But one thing frustrated you a lot by this time. You had fallen head over heels for the pilot, the genius, Tech. The frustrating thing was that he didn't understand any of your innuendos, he took everything way too literally and apparently there was no room for innuendo in his understanding because he overlooked every attempt. By now everyone knew what was going on except him. If there had been potted plants on the Marauder, even they would have known what was going on before Tech did.

What you didn't know, however, was that his brothers had taken him aside and informed him, quite directly and without any subtlety. The next time you were alone with him and came into the cockpit where he was packing up his tools, he turned when he heard your footsteps. He towered over you by quite a bit, his slender figure tucked into his gear was smeared with machine oil on some parts.

"Y/N, good to have you here. I think we should talk," he said, pushing his goggles up the bridge of his nose with the index finger of his right hand.

Surprised, you looked at him, but nodded and said, "Okay, sure, I'm all ears."

Tech thought for a moment before saying, "Hunter and Echo approached me about a topic that was beyond my understanding"

You frowned thoughtfully and gave a soft "aha", of your own.

"Well, if I understood correctly" he continued, looking at you scrutinizingly "Then you harbor certain feelings for my person. Is that correct?"

Your heart suddenly leapt into your throat and seemed to occupy your vocal cords, for at first little more than a nervous croak came from your mouth.

His big golden brown eyes looked at you uncertainly.

"Y/N?"

"Um, yeah, yeah right," you finally said after clearing your throat, even though you had thought for a moment about lying and evading the situation.

He blinked and seemed to be thinking about his next words, and something about his expression made your insides want to tighten and knot.

"The thing is, I can't return those feelings," he finally spoke softly.

Your throat became incredibly tight, your legs became unspeakably heavy, and you wished you had lied to escape the situation.

You just looked at him silently, not knowing what to say.

"It wouldn't be appropriate for us to be a couple. I wasn't made to be in a relationship and our lives don't leave much room for-"

"It's okay" you interrupted him "You don't have to explain yourself or make excuses. I get it."

You smiled, but even though Tech had his problems with interpersonal issues, he could see that your smile didn't reach your eyes.

"I'm not looking for excuses, Y/N I'm just trying to-"

"It's okay. I'll back off. I have other things to do anyway."

You didn't, and you both knew it.

"Like what? "he asked innocently.

"Something private, that's my business," you grumbled, annoyed that you didn't have a better excuse, and hurried out of the cockpit.

You sat by the river not too far from the Marauder, but far enough to be out of sight and have your peace for the time being. For a while, you fought the urge to cry, but eventually, a few tears flowed anyway, which you angrily wiped away.

You were angry, at yourself and also at the others who had more or less ratted you out to Tech. But actually you knew that they had only wanted to help. That had backfired now, though.

You cursed inside that you felt so small and lonely, now that you knew he didn't return your feelings. How were you supposed to work with him or travel with the guys now? It would just be weird to stay, you thought sadly, and thought about how best to say goodbye to the boys and go your way again.

When Hunter entered the cockpit, he found a Tech who appeared to be a bit off, indecisively turning his datapad in his hands.

"What's the matter with you? You seem spaced out."

Tech looked up and said, "I was talking to Y/N because of the feelings we were talking about"

Hunter raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Oh. Seems to me the response was less than good, or why are you sitting here alone?"

"I told Y/N that I can't return the feelings".

Hunter looked at him incredulously.

"Why the hell would you do something like that? You told me and Echo that you felt the same way about Y/N".

Tech nodded.

"Well, I do. But it's not advisable to give in to that, not with the way we live. Besides, I have no experience and probably wouldn't be the right partner"

Hunter sighed and knelt down to Tech, who was sitting on the floor of the cockpit.

"Tech" he began "We clones often live very short lives, experience is hard to come by, hardly any of us do. Very few of us are as lucky to have someone take an interest in us as Y/N takes an interest in you. That's special and you shouldn't let that pass you by, that would be the real mistake."

Tech blinked.

"What if I can't make Y/N happy?"

"You think breaking Y/N's heart is better?"

Again he blinked.

"I would never break Y/N's heart!" he said, horrified.

Hunter grabbed his brother's shoulders and said, "You did today, though, by saying you couldn't return the feelings. Y/N certainly didn't take that the way you meant it, no one would have taken it that way, not with those words."

Unhappy, Tech asked, "What am I supposed to do now?"

Hunter shrugged his shoulders and said, "In the end, that's your decision, but if you want my opinion, I'd say go to Y/N, tell the truth about your feelings, the rest will follow. You'll see."

When you heard footsteps, you hastily wiped the tears from your face and fervently hoped that your eyes were not red.

You heard Tech's voice ask, "May I join you?"

You answered without looking at him, "I'd rather be alone."

"Please" he said softly, sounding a little nervous "I want to talk to you"

"What if I don't want to talk to you?" you asked defiantly.

Tech sighed softly and sat down next to you anyway before saying "You don't really mean that".

It felt strange to sit next to him, you longed to just lean against him, wrap your arms around him. But of course you did nothing of the sort.

"What do you want?" you asked instead, a little more harshly than you'd planned.

"To apologize" he said softly "I gave the wrong impression earlier".

You frowned. You weren't quite sure what he was getting at.

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand," you admitted.

Tech cautiously moved a little closer and confusion spread through your mind. Somehow, it all didn't quite fit together.

"I've had feelings for you for a long time, just like you have for me," he finally blurted out.

Slowly you turned your head to look at him. He shyly avoided your gaze and you could see his ears turning red.

"Then why did you say earlier that you couldn't return my feelings?" you wanted to know.

He explained: "I meant that I shouldn't, because I thought that... I thought I wasn't cut out for it. I don't have any experience as far as that goes, and I thought-"

You gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek, which instantly silenced him.

You heard a soft "Oh" pass his lips before he sought your gaze.

Your hand went to the back of his neck as his face came closer, you both closed your eyes and your lips finally touched. You heard him sigh softly and smiled into the kiss. Your other hand went into his hair, he opened his lips slightly, letting out a soft gasp as your fingers gently caressed the skin of his head and stroked through his hair.

You seized the moment and gently slipped your tongue into his mouth. He moaned into the kiss as your tongues touched. His hands automatically grabbed your hips and pulled you onto his lap. He shivered under your hand in his hair and the kiss you shared. When you broke away from the kiss, he looked at you through half-closed lids.

"My heart is beating very fast," he said softly.

You smiled.

"Mine too"

@chxpsi

@mybigfatspoonielife

@clone-whore-99

@the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond

@nunanuggets

@brynhildrmimi

#tech x y/n #star wars #the bad batch #clonelove #clone force 99 #tbb #sw tbb #clone trooper tech #bad batch tech #tbb tech #tech #clone trooper tech x reader #tbb tech x reader #tech bad batch #tech tbb #tech the bad batch #tech tuesday #tech x reader #tech x you #the bad batch tech #tech oneshot #tech fluff #tech imagine #bad batch #bad batch x reader #star wars bad batch #star wars the bad batch #star wars: the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #the bad batch x reader

[ajoytobeheld]

Wrestling the dollhouse (Spoilers!)

March 20th, 2009

I watched The Wrestler last night in my continuing bid to see the entire resume of Darren Aronofsky on this tour,  I started with Pi in the first week, and although I appreciated its skewed vision of maths and it’s painful depiction of a migraine I thought it was a little bit up its own bottom. 

I much preferred The Fountain, as for all its wonderful flaws it is far less pretentious then his previous effort and one of the most beautiful love stories told in recent times.  I felt like The Wrestler fell somewhere between these two, the whole film was wonderfully casual in its approach, it didn’t need to subject the viewer to emotional manipulation via torture of its main star (Like he did with Ellen Burstyn in Requiem), the camera kind of just sat back and let Rourke exist in this role, showing his strengths and his weaknesses without hammering home any particular message about his personality.

It was subtle and naturalistic, so conclusions were the easier and more honest to come to, sort of like a documentary I guess… it made you believe in this man’s passion for Wrestling, which is a subject I know nothing about but it was an interesting glimpse into this obscure world.  It took skill on the films part to keep you focused on something rather left field for the average audience goer, and it took bravery for Aronofsky to show the more gristly parts of this particular profession (staples gun in a match anyone?)

But he didn’t show these elements for shock value, or to satisfy a morbid curiousity, it was completing a portrait of admiration for someone who put himself through physical and emotional torture for a passion. Also Marisa Tomei was outstanding as the aging stripper, and their wasn’t too much of a push for a convenient romantic relationship between the two of them, more of a mutual understanding of how their bodies were preventing them reaching their dreams (hers was to raise money for a house not to win a stripping comp or anything.)

Although the fact that Randy “The Ram’s” career had taken a nose dive it could have been more heart breaking, Aronofsky chose  to take the focus off that (because it was a given) and instead show how Randy just wanted to wrestle to his fans, no matter how many of them were there…

hmmmm I am rubbish at trying to explain what I think makes a good film to me, but bascially I tend to focus on what the film didn’t but could have easily have done… 

Now onto what didn’t work for me.

There were some elements of hollywood sheen present within it, such as on  the father-daughter relationship which was a little bit cheesy and kind of just shoved in, although Evan “I’m really gorgeous” Rachael Wood has been dissed for her part in it, the fault lies with the under developed and badly written role. She does the best she can with it. The second problem I had was with the ending

SPOILER ALERT

I thought it was a little bit too convenient that his heart attack would erupt and kill him at the same time as his final move in his “last match,” I felt like it was at odds with the realism of the rest of the film, and of course he died at the end, the whole set up was not meant to make you think otherwise… that irritated me slightly. I didn’t want him to live, and I didn’t want a happy hollywood ending, but this seemed a little obvious… 

But it is better then a lot of hollywood fare out their currently, and it is commendable that a film which normally would slip under the radar or become a sleeper hit got this level of recognition (and more importantly revenue.) Although Marley and Me is coming out soon and a million people will probably go and see that so….In short it was a intelligent, well made and (in part) depressing film on an unconventional but universal subject, the idea of not giving up on your passions in life…

In another note I watched a bit of the second episode of Doll House, and it made me lol, not only is Helo chewing scenery with Badger/Romo Lampkin but look yonder, its Fred! How am I meant to take this show seriously? Especially as none of the characters seem to have that Whedon charisma, I mean I love  Faith…I mean Eliza, but Echo seems a bit… rubbish. I shall give it time.

Ex

#2009 #lc!blog

[nebris]

"The truth is that this culture is insane. When Derrick asks his audiences, “Does anyone here believe that our culture will undergo a voluntary transformation to a sane and sustainable way of living?” — and he’s asked it for years, all around the country—no one says yes. That means that most people, or at least most people with a beating heart, have already done the math, added up the arrogance, sadism, stupidity, and denial, and reached the bottom line: a dead planet. Some of us carry that final sum like the weight of a corpse. For others, that conclusion turns the heart to a smoldering coal. But despair and rage have been declared unevolved and unclean, beneath the “spiritual warriors” who insist they will save the planet by “healing” themselves. How this activity will stop the release of carbon and the felling of forests is never actually explained. The answer lies vaguely between being the change we wish to see and a hundredth monkey of hope, a monkey that is frankly more Christmas pony than actual possibility.

Given that the culture of America is founded on individualism and awash in privilege, it’s no surprise that narcissism is the end result. The social upheavals of the 60s split along fault lines of responsibility and hedonism, of justice and selfishness, of sacrifice and entitlement. What we are left with is an alternative culture that offers workshops on our “scarcity consciousness,” as if poverty were a state of mind and not a structural support of capitalism. This culture leaves us ill-prepared to face the crisis of planetary biocide that greets us daily with its own grim dawn. The facts are not conducive to an open-hearted state of wonder. To confront the truth as adults, not as faux-children, requires an adult fortitude and courage, grounded in our adult responsibilities to the world. It requires those things because the situation is horrific and living with that knowledge will hurt. Meanwhile, I have been to workshops where global warming is treated as an opportunity for personal growth, and no one but me sees a problem with that." ~Deep Green Resistance: Strategy to Save the Planet Excerpt

[tipsydipsydo]

➳ the shower

➳ "keep teasing, I'll bend you over right here!"

➳ "it'd be better if they watched"

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Gender of the Reader: male

Word Count: ~1k

Rating: 18+

Genre: Smut/PwP

Warnings: Dirty Language + Dirty Talk; Petnames; verbal Degradation; Mentions of Daddy! Kink; Dom-Sub-Dynamic (Top! & Dom! Reader x Bottom! & Sub! Jungkook) ; anal Fingering; Mentions of Exhibitionism-Kink; Teasing; Anal Sex; Mentions of unprotected Sex; In conclusion: Jungkook is a vocal brat

A/N: I know, I know... Pride Month is almost a month over but I had a writersblock lately and this shit kept me away from writing... so I'll try now to post some more bts x male reader stories! ♡ I hope you like my newest work ;)

Status: Un-edited

[Links]:

BTS Smut Drabbles

My Writings | My Blog Navigation

「© tipsydipsydo」

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

You should have known that Jungkook only offered you the option of showering together to simply tease the shit out of you. He said, it would save sooo much more warm water for his other roomates up and that Seokjin would yell at him when they run out of warm water again.

You were indeed way too naïve and trustful. The thought alone that Jungkook could get possibly in trouble because of him, his boyfriend, who neither live here nor pay for anything decided already for him. You're simply a guest who sleep over from time to time and your mom made sure that you'll grow into a man with good manners. So after Jungkook explained the urgency why you should shower together, you don't have any kind of reason why you shouldn't.

Well, you definitely should know Jungkook already well enough to realize, that your boyfriend like to use some white lies here and there to get what he wants. It's still hard to believe for you how the previous Jungkook, who was so terribly shy and nervous as you started dating each other, turned out to be so mishief and sassy. As someone, who could barely exchange some small talk without any stuttering at first, he has now a more than bold tongue and loves to be a brat that tests the limits of your acceptance. Little did you know that he is a masochist who needs to get put back into 'his place', eventhough he won't admit it openly. At least until now.

A cheeky pinch into your left buttcheek got you out of your thoughts and a boyishly giggle comes from behind you. You agreed to wash each others back and of course Jungkook couldn't let the perfect opportunity of grabbing your ass pass by.

"I like your ass, Daddy~ I love to see the how your muscles twitch when I am pinching you and how you gasp in surprise and disbelief, hehe.", chuckles Jungkook and you can literally hear the bright bunny smile out of his voice. It's pretty common for him, he has on his face whenever he teases or annoys you on purpose.

While his endearing smile makes your heart melt and let Jungkook getting away with his teasing way too often, the title he just called you does something to you and Jungkook knows that. Of course he do.

Your nose flare as you take a deep breath and the annoyed eye-roll had given way for a hungry and almost predatory-like expression. Slowly you turn around to Jungkook, who's eyes grows big the moment he sees your facial expression. A harsh gulp follows as you close the space between you two and cages him with your arms, sandwiching him between your own body and the cold tiles. The steady bobs of his adams-apple make it look so incredibly seductive. Some deep purple hickeys all over his neck would suit Jungkook very well.

"Hm, Babyboy? What was that? Would you mind to explain your bratty behavior to me? Keep teasing, I'll bend you over right here. Seems like you wouldn't mind to play around with Daddy for a little bit. Well, if we're already standing here in the shower together, then we need to make the waste of water to be worth it, right?", you wisper in a raspy voice into his slightly blushing ear.

A dark, satiesfied chuckle flees over your lips as you see how his bold and bratty personality starts slowly to crumble down and how your own teasing and promising words put him into his submissive mindset. Jungkook may be a tease but with the right words and gaze you can turn him easily back into a good, well behaving sub.

"What about a quick shower fuck? Isn't that what you wanted, Kookie?"

Your boyfriend exhales shakingly, didn't even recognized that he hold his breath the last few seconds. He nibbles at his lower lip with his cute bunny theeth before he gives you his confirmation.

"Y-Yes please, Daddy. Fuck me, I need you to drill your big dick inside of me, please split my asshole open with your girthy cock-", he whines weakly. Yes, that's what you like to hear. Suddenly he is such a good boy again, it's truly fascinating.

"Turn around, Baby. Spread your legs and pull your cute, little ass cheeks apart for me."

It only takes you a short moment to reach through the small slit of the opened glass door to grab into the drawer of the nearby standing bathroom drawer and pull a bottle of lube out.

It isn't the first time you have some fun in the shower.

The sight Jungkook is giving you let a deep grunt of appreciation escape your throat and leave your hard cock salivating in precum. God, he looks way too hot in this position. Literally awaiting for your cock to get fucked mercilessly.

To be honest... Jungkook is such a slut for assplay. The way already two of your fingers slip into his soft, stretched hole without any resistance. Just a few minutes later your third finger joins in without any problems. He must playing with himself a lot when you aren't around...

Just tiny whimpers and little pants left his mouth while you fingered him but now... now, where you lined your red and angry leaking cock up to his, in exitement clenching hole and slowly filling him up... whiny and highpitched moans filling the humid air in the bathroom.

Jungkook's right cheek is pressed against the tiles, eyes rolling back into his skull whenever you pulled out almost completely just to drill your cock balls deep back into him. To hear how the skin of your hips meets his bubble butt and create such obscene slapping noises clouds Jungkook's mind. He tries desperately to lift his trembling hand to his mouth to muffle his greedy moans, he would be mortified if his roommates call him out about being way too vocal once again.

Unfortunately his intention doesn't fit the plans you have for him. He teased you on purpose, very well aware that all of his roommates are at home today. He is the one who loves the thrill of getting caught doing something nasty. He is the one who jerked you off at the movie theater. So you don't have the need to cover up what you're doing.

You let Jungkook's hips go for a minute, just to grab both of his wrists and move his arms behind his back, holding them in place with one hand while the other one moves back to it's previous place at his hip.

"It'd be better if they watched. Just imagine how the bathroom door would open and they would stand there, watching us. Then they'd see how well I am fucking and wrecking this little ass of yours. What a good little fucktoy you are, taking my fat cock so well in your tiny asshole. Just think about how our nasty, shameless act turn them on to that point where they couldn't control themself anymore and start to jerk off to us. You would like that, yeah? I know what a dirty little boy you are. So let them hear what a greedy, filthy fuckdoll you are. Come, don't be shy. Be louder. Even more louder, Baby..."

#kpop bts #kpop fanfics #bangtanarmynet #bts smut #jeon jungkook #thehouseofbangtan #bts x reader #bts jungkook #purplearmynet #jungkook smut #btswritersguild #sub!bts #sub jungkook x dom reader #bts x male reader #bts shower sex #bts scenarios #kpop smut #bts imagines #bratty jungkook #bts x reader smut #jungkook x male reader #title: such a tease #author: tipsydipsydo

[heyhoneyybunn]

This is for the latest event. First of all: hella excited! Angst to fluff is my jam, who doesn't love a reconciliation filled with struggles! I was hoping if you could write on the prompt "Don't lie to me" with Iwa-chan. I love him the most out of all the characters and really want to see reader and Iwa-chan work past all the problems to be together.

Thank you in advance, and good luck!

Prompt: “Don’t lie to me.”

Character: Iwaizumi Hajime (the hottest man to not exist)

A/n: Angst to fluff is also my favourite, it’s so satisfying to read! I hope you enjoy this as much I did writing it, happy reading!

Enough was enough. Everyone had a limit and you had just reached yours, in fact you had surpassed this limit causing you to turn into a raging mess of tangled emotions. Each one mixing with each other to form an unfathomable concoction you had never experienced before. Overall, a recipe for disaster.

The house was cold and empty, reflecting your inner turmoil. Jumping to conclusions wasn’t your forte, in fact you and Iwaizumi were mature enough to solve conflicts and work through things together but this felt… different. You could feel him pulling away.

The door creaked open, revealing the cause of your distress, hands bunching tightly as you turned your back to him.

“Baby, I’m home,” he announced, blissfully unaware of the cloud over your head.

Silence hung in the air as he was met with a cold silence, the only sound the stirring of the crickets.

His presence approached closer, hands trying to grab yours as you evaded his grip, hugging yourself tightly.

“What’s wrong?” He asked worriedly, trying at the very least to get you to face him.

The fear of announcing the problem, inciting it into the world and have him confirm what had been racing around in your head, had you dazed. Every minute you were silent, his anxiety grew tenfold, leg shaking as he tried to get you to speak.

“I saw you with her.”

Eyes peeking up from the ground to gauge his reaction, the way he froze under the weight of the statement was confirmation enough. Your heart slowed as you accepted the truth. This man was no longer yours, he had found someone else.

“I – uh –!”

“Longer nights at work, alone with her. I never would have believed it until today.” you explained, silent tears drenching your face as you gave him a watery smile, “And then you lied to me about where you were going today, I saw you at the café.”

When Iwaizumi went out he always made it a habit to tell you where he was going, not so you could control him, but out of his respect for you. He hated secrets and the trouble they brought about yet here he was.

“It’s not what it looks like,” he tried to assure you, slightly panicked.

“Don’t lie to me Iwaizumi.”

“I never wanted you to find out like this,” he sighed heavily, a frown creasing his forehead as he disappeared through the house.

So it was true, and now that you found out, he was going to leave.

The sounds of the hangers being relocated caused you to bite your lip to hold in the vivid cry that threatened to escape. He was rearranging your heart, breaking off chunks and making sure the pieces no longer fit together, ruining you for anyone else.

Uncomfortably perched on the couch, head in hands you were too involved in trying to remain calm that you didn’t notice his return.

He called out your name and you clutched your face tighter, hoping this was a bad dream, that it would be over soon.

“Y/n, please look at me,” he tried again, desperation escaping into his usually controlled voice.

The pathetic tone had you peering up at him, the waterworks threatening to explode as he smiled. Smiled at your snot nosed and teary face.

“This isn’t how I wanted to do this,” he mumbled, “but circumstances change.”

All of a sudden, he was before you – down on one knee as he presented you with a small velvet box. His ruddy cheeks and vulnerability in the moment made him even more beautiful.

“But, I don’t understand,” you said through a hiccup as he gently swiped a finger across your cheek, drying the remaining tears.

“I told the boys I was going to propose to you and she demanded to help. We’ve been planning this for the past few months, your friends even helped too.”

Hands flying to your mouth, you expressed apology after apology, berating yourself for accusing him of doing something so hurtful.

“I’m sorry Haji.”

“And I’m sorry, I know I pulled away from you during those months, I can see how you came to your conclusion.”

“You’re just so amazing. Always scared someone’s gonna steal you away from me.”

“You have nothing to worry about baby, you’re the only one I’ll ever want.”

And just like that, with his warm smile and kind eyes only reserved for you, he melted your troubles away. With a single touch, you were healed, he fixed you so many times he’d give Asclepius a run for his money.

His affirmation watered your growing smile.He shifted a bit on the floor, pouting at the uncomfortable position, but for you, he would endure it without complaint. His eyes drifted over your face memorising every detail of the moment.

“So Y/n, will you marry me?”

#iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi imagines #iwaizumi drabbles #iwaizumi drabble #haikyu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq imagines #haikyuu imagines #hq x reader #haikyuu!! #honey: writes #honey: answers #honey: angst to fluff event

[raggaraddy]

Can you Taehyungs version of reader being shot cause of them?

I really like your Jimin and Namjoon Version that you’ve written🥰

Request from @dramaclub-thin: Mafia BTS where the reader is shot for/because of them.

A/N: It is so much longer than I meant for it to be. Hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading.

If anyone else wants to request, you can here.

Mafia Bangtan other parts:

Namjoon

Yoongi

Jimin

Jungkook

---------

Deception.

Summary: When you agreed to help Bangtan take down one of their enemies, you never imagined it could go so wrong.

Trigger warning: Smut, violence, blood, murder.

Taehyung

Mafia! Taehyung

"Are you ready?" Namjoon asks, shutting off the car's engine and turning around in his seat.

"Yeah," you nod back, hoping the rocking pit of nerves in your stomach isn't visible on your face. Scanning back and forth between him in the front and Jin sat beside you, you're checking to see if they are showing any signs of worry either. Finding a bit of solace in their surety.

"We're gonna lag behind about 20 minutes to be cautious and stay out of sight. But we'll be close. Just do everything like we said, and you'll be fine." Namjoon summarizes once again. Jin offering you a kind, reassuring smile to accompany the leader's words.

You nod again, sucking your tongue to the roof of your mouth. Running your fingers through your hair to fluff it for the 30th time. Hyperfixated on the time, you see the dashboard clock tick over. 20:21.

"Okay, let's go." You exhale deeply.

It was three weeks ago that Namjoon came to you with a problem that Bangtan was facing. Their weapons dealer was forcefully put out of business, which was Namjoons gentle way of saying he was killed, cutting off their supply to automatics and other bigger guns. Leaving them vulnerable. The man who took over their previous partners supply was known to be working with some of the other, smaller local crews. It was also known that he was a rival of Namjoon's and due to this tension refused to work with Bangtan. Normally, a problem like this would be something that they could handle. However, as Namjoon explained it, this guy was backed and protected by foreign money and was too hot to touch without starting a bloody war.

So the plan was simple. Risky, but simple. The supplier had to die. And it needed to appear to be from natural causes, so it could never fall back on Bangtan. No one directly affiliated could be involved. That meant none of the members could risk doing it. It also meant that it was too high a priority to trust an associate or hired gun with this information. Not with the reach and money the opposition had. No, it had to be someone within the family that could handle this, but someone the supplier would never know.

Opportunely, the supplier was known to have a weakness for women, hence the logical conclusion for Namjoon was one of the member's girls. Trustworthy enough not to turn or rat, not likely to be noticed among the myriad of other women, and except a few of them, all had no record linking them to Bangtan, so they would be complete unknowns.

Jin said it, but you already knew it. Out of all of the girls, you were the one who was the most capable. Your difficult past left you with many emotional scars but made you the best person to handle the responsibility. You're not susceptible to intimidation. Have very few moral hangups. And most importantly Namjoon knows how much you love Taehyung. How you would do anything for him. To keep him safe and happy. He knows he can trust you, and that when the time comes, you wouldn't hesitate to do what they needed you to.

As for you, you knew that Taehyung trusted Namjoon irrefutably and you had seen countless times that he was a good leader. Furthermore, you could appreciate the gravity of the situation. Because you're sure that if Bangtan's brain had any other choice, he would not have asked for your help. But since he had, you were going to do what was necessary to keep your family and Taehyung safe.

The problem was that Namjoon had insisted on secrecy. The only ones to know about his plan were you, him, and Jin. A few years ago, sure, lying would not have been a problem for you, you hardly ever told the truth to anyone. But this changed when you met Taehyung. He was the first person you could be honest with, the first person you ever let love you. And lying to him was something you were genuinely struggling with.

However, you knew Namjoon and Jin were right. There was no way Tae would have been okay with you being put in harm's way and he wouldn't be able to separate his feelings from the urgency of the task.

Although, that justification doesn't make you feel less guilty for deceiving him. And to make matters worse, you expected this to be over with last week already. But on your first date with the supplier, he had left the club early to deal with work suddenly. Giving you no time to spike his drink.

So here you were, attempt number two.

While you were meant to meet the supplier at a fancy restaurant first, Namjoon's plan was to skip that and get to his house as quickly as possible. Before the valet could open the supplier's car door, you leant through the open window, teasingly licking your lips. "I just realized," you purr, noting his eyes drop to your mouth and back. "I'm actually not that hungry. So how about we skip to the end of the night, and then you can take me out for breakfast tomorrow morning."

Your blatant offer works like a charm. 20 minutes and a car ride later, he's pulling you down onto his couch. Hardly able to keep his hands or lips off of you.

Tearing at your blouse he rips the buttons apart, his mouth sucking and licking at your neck. One of his hands roaming and grabbing at anything he can, while the other starts to hike up your pencil skirt. He removes his vest and buttoned shirt, not once parting his lips from yours. His large, hard chest muscles pressing against you as he pins you in between his arms and the couch. Spreading your legs apart, he grinds his crotch into your core and you can feel what effect this is having on him. And you have to admit, despite your mind being focused elsewhere, physically it's having the same kind of arousing results on you.

But this isn't what's supposed to happen. He's moving too fast and it's quickly getting away from you. You only want to get him comfortable and distracted enough that he completely lets his guard down. You're trying to poison him, not fuck him.

Pushing his chest lightly, you spring upright. Slightly out of breath you pull your hair over your shoulder covering up a little and running your fingers through it, trying to regain some composure.

"I could use a drink." You pant, batting your eyes up at him.

"Sounds good." He nods, his gaze dark and ravenous. Suddenly haulting he leans back down to kiss you. His hands gripping your hips as he kisses you back into the sofa. Abruptly leaving you flat on the couch with flushed cheeks.

This is better. One or two drinks from now, you should be able to slip him the ricin. He drinks it, you fake a headache, and skip home.  24 hours from now he has a heart attack and dies from natural causes. Nothing tied to you. Nothing connected to Bangtan.

"I hope you like-"  The supplier calls out, only to be interrupted by a grating smack at the front of the house. You startle upright, sitting alert watching the hall entrance. He comes from the other side, coming back from the kitchen, a curious look on his face. Both of you staring at the same doorway as Taehyung suddenly comes in.

Fuck.

Your eyes go wide, half not able to believe he is actually here. He wasn't supposed to be!  Namjoon had arranged for Jimin to take him out tonight. And you had told him you were going to meet some of the other girls.

The thing you didn't know; a week ago when you met the supplier at the club, you had also said you were out with a few girls, including Jimin's girlfriend. But she was with Jimin at that time. And Jimin was with Taehyung. And she knew nothing about any plans to go out.

So when you said there was a movie night tonight, he asked around and found out that was also a lie. He wanted to trust you. To trust that it wouldn't be as bad as his worst fear. Still, the more he thought over how you lied to him, the more he worked himself up, getting himself into a paranoid and anxious state. Until he found himself tracking your phone, following you to an unknown house.

Seeing you half undressed and with someone he considers an enemy, his anger and jealously turns to pure rage. It only taking a second for the scene in front of him to confirm his worst suspicions.

Unleashing his gun he shoots wildly at the supplier. Reason slipping from him completely.

Barley able to avoid being hit, the supplier dives behind one of the sofa chairs. Nearly being riddled with the showering of bullets.

Wrapping your hands over your head, you cover your ears from the explosive sounds. Still firing, and keeping the supplier pinned, Taehyung storms at you.

"Tae-" you start. The gun empties, but Taehyung couldn't care less, tossing it aside. All of his attention focused on you.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" He growls through gritted teeth. His hand flying down smacking your cheek, slapping you back into the sofa. "How could you do this to me?!" He screams, his voice wavering from the emotion in his question.

"I can explain," You ignore the burn on your cheek, running your hands along your body, trying your best to cover and redress yourself.  You never wanted him to see you like this, and the look of betrayal in his eyes is stinging your heart more than any slap could.  "I-," you begin with no next word coming. There's nothing you can tell him. Not while the supplier is right here.

Taehyung's anger aside, you're terrified to think what him being here means. Namjoon's plan is completely derailed. And Taehyung attacked the supplier, creating an entirely new problem. You're not the smart one. You have no idea what to do or how to fix this.

Where the hell are Jin and Namjoon?

Taehyung is so fixated on you that he doesn't see the other man charging from the side.

"Look out!" You scream. Only it's a second too slow. Taehyung doesn't have time to react and the supplier swings a ceramic table ornament at his head. The shattered fragments raining over you, as your boyfriend is knocked to the ground. The shoe of the imposing man booting into Taehyung's torso.

You dive towards them, driving your body weight into the supplier to separate the two men. Pushing him away as his heel scarcely misses Taehyung's face.

He stumbles back a few steps and straightens up, nodding and pursing his lips with a look of revelation. Seeing you spring to Taehyungs defence revealed much more than you had intended.

While you're attempting to help Tae upright, he quickly shirks you off and lunges at the other man diving through him and dragging him to the floor. Fighting for dominance and survival, the two men break into a brutal fight trading blow after blow as they struggle to overpower the other.

While you're relieved to see that Taehyung is the more skilled of the two, and mostly has the upper hand, you're mainly sick with worry. The ramifications of this will play out beyond this simple fistfight.

All you can do is get Tae out of here for now, and hope that the supplier hasn't realised that this was an attempt to kill him. Maybe if you're really lucky he will only think of it at face value. A cheating girlfriend and her jealous boyfriend.

"Tae," you grab his arm, dragging him back with resistance. "We have to get out of here. Please,"

He drops the supplier's collar, who falls back limply. Turning to you he has blood pouring down his face from a cut on his cheek. Intensifying the cold look in his eye.

"We? What we? Don't you wanna stay here with this piece of shit." He snarls, standing up.

"I can explain after." You tug him again. He can hate you all he likes later. But first, you have to get out of here. "Please," you beg for his agreement.

Staring harshly, he retreats from you. A pained look in his eye that cuts you more than any blade could. Anger, hate, rage. You could handle all of it. But there's so much hurt and sadness on his face. It's nothing you ever wanted to be responsible for. It's more than you can bear.

"Tae," you hold your hand outreached, gingerly approaching him.  He doesn't withdraw further, allowing you to rest your hand on his cheek. Your heart breaking further as he leans into your touch. Resting in your palm for comfort like an injured puppy. "I promise, baby, this isn't what it looks like." you coo, "I love you so much,"

His eyes close, his face scrunching in anguish. He wants to believe you so badly. To forget everything he has seen. To take you home and never let you go. He may be the first person you let love you, but for him, you are the only person he ever let himself love.

Turning, you use his softening demeanour to lead him towards the door. But the supplier pulls your attention. Neither of you were paying him any mind and standing in the corner of the room he's pulled his own gun from hiding.

Reacting without a thought you shove your back into Taehyung, covering him. Guarding him.

At the same time, a shot rings out and the bullet hits you. A painful, sharp sensation piercing through your torso that makes you stumble back. Losing your footing you fall into Taehyung, your body never hitting the ground. Taehyung catching your weight, lowering with you. Resting you on his legs.

Taehyung grimaces in pain, his hand wrapping his own side momentarily. The bullet went clean through you and cut his side before flying into the wall behind the both of you. Dismissing his own injury, he leans over your body, ripping off his shirt and pressing it and his palms into your entrance wound. Trying to slow the bleeding.

Looking up at Taehyung with tear-filled eyes, you're in shock. Every breath you take is sore but other than that, your body is numb. Your hands clinging to his, all you can think is that you wished you knew what to say or do to lessen his panic. The sweat on his forehead rolls into the cut on his cheek causing the blood to drip further down his neck and chest. The fear and worry in his eyes exposing what you can't see or feel. That you're losing a lot of blood.

The supplier comes over the top of you both. He presses the barrel of the gun into the back of Taehyungs head, forcing him to crouch lower over you.

"I was searching for a reason to annihilate Namjoon and his pathetic crew. Thank you for giving me one." He digs the gun down harder. Taehyung growls, baring his teeth in frustration. "Too bad we didn't get to finish what we started though, Y/n. Oh well." He smirks, cocking the gun for additional effect.

"I love you," Taehyung whispers, the finality in his voice breaking your restraint, tears gushing down your face.

"I-," you can only begin.

Another blast rings out that makes both you and Taehyung jump. The supplier's body goes heavy and plummets to the ground, smashing through the glass coffee table beside you. Glass shatters everywhere as he falls down dead, blood pouring out of his head, collecting into a pool.

"Fuck sakes." Namjoon sighs from the living room entrance. Standing with Jin, both looking over the destruction with disbelief.

"Hyung," Taehyung calls out, his voice raspy and on the verge of tears. "Help." He looks down at you, your face pale, your limps drooping as the blood loss is starting to make you dizzy.

Namjoon opens his mouth readying to scold his brother, but he quickly stops himself. His own faults glaringly obvious at this moment. Jin removes his belt, wrapping it around your waist he fixes it tightly, making you whine in pain, keeping Taehyungs shirt pressed to both sides of your wound.

"Can you carry her?" Jin asks his younger brother.

Namjoon passes all of you, walking toward the lifeless body of his enemy, shooting another round into the back of his head with a frustrated look in his eye.

Taehyung nods at Jin with wide, panicked eyes.

"Then bring her." Namjoon turns with a flick of his head gesturing to follow him.

Jin supports Taehyung as he struggles to get himself and you to a standing position. Finding more strength once he is upright, lifting you into his arms as you whimper and moan weakly.

"Taehyung-" you start, your words sounding breathless and weak. "I'm sorry," you whisper.

"Shh baby." He hushes you. "Don't worry about that now."

He gets you into Namjoons truck, laying you down the length of the seat. As Namjoon speeds to the hospital, Taehyung sits in the back, his legs under your head. Holding firm against your bullet wound while petting your head.

Jin takes Tae's keys and follows you in his car. Already calling a cleanup crew to get rid of the supplier's body. Trying to salvage what he can of the bad situation.

"Namjoon," you call out. Even as your mind is starting to slip into unconsciousness your worry over the family is consuming your focus. "the plan. Can you fix the-" you breathe heavily running out of air.

He looks over his shoulder, guilt overtaking his expression. Nodding with an affirming grunt.

"Plan? What plan?" Taehyung muses, the shock steadily drifting away. "What is she talking about, Hyung?" One look at the blame on Namjoon's face and it clicks into place. "What did you do?"

"It wasn't supposed to happen like this." Namjoon reasons.

"Are you kidding me? You organized this?!" He snaps, "How the fuck could you risk her like that?!"

"It was supposed to be easy. She wasn't meant to get hurt-"

"Well, clearly she did!" Taehyung roars, his hands bunching into fists.

"I'm sorry, Tae. I wanted to help." You whine, lifting your arm up to touch his chest, trying to soothe him in any way.

"It's okay, baby. I know you did." He coos kissing your forehead, Taehyung's rage immediately subsiding towards you. He takes your blood-drenched hands in his and kisses them lovingly. Kissing down your forearms, pressing your hands to his head in agony and want to have you closer. Wishing he could absorb your pain and suffering.

Returning his wrath to the leader his voice lowers, coming out like ice. "We're gonna talk about this once she's okay." He snarls, "And know, I hold you personally responsible for every second she's in pain."

Looking in the rearview mirror, Namjoon nods solemnly. "Yeah, I do too."

Luckily for you, you recover quickly, and no permanent physical damage was done. But the damage that was done to Namjoon and Taehyungs relationship, the repercussions caused for Bangtan, and the fall out from the supplier's death... well that's another story entirely.

#bts #yandere bts #bts fanfic #yandere #bangtan #yandere bangtan #yandere taehyung #bts reactions #mafia bts #mafia bangtan #bangtan mafia #mafia taehyung #mafia namjoon #mafia jin #bts smut #bts smut reactions #kim taehyung #kim namjoon #kim seokjin

[neko-rogers]

But It’s Better If You Do

Trying to keep your relationship with your professor was easy enough, until you learned that someone had found out about it.

words: 7,424 tags: manipulative!peter, explicit noncon/dubcon elements, degredation, implied overstimulation, blackmailing, kidnapping, college student and professor relationship, 

a/n: whew this had a lot of words compared to what i usually write. plus, since im bad at titles, i’ll just use my fav song titles lmao. (ps. erik lehnsherr aka magneto is here and im just glad i could put him in my little fictional world bc im d biggest slut for him)

     A complete lie, you just did not want to deal with college fuck boys.

     The man in front of the class was practically pouring his heart out into the lecture. The chalkboard was filled with white letterings from left to right, not knowing where to start as you take down notes.

     “It is important to keep in mind that bimolecular structure and function are dictated by the properties of the medium in which they are dissolved,” your professor explains while continually pacing from one end to the other among the students seated at the first row.

     You decided to seat around the middle to the last row, knowing it was the least obvious way for other students in the class to notice how much you fawn over your Organic Chemistry professor rather than the subject itself.

     Honestly you could listen to him talk for hours. All those information he had been discussing would not actually process through your thoughts. You knew that better than anyone.

     But who honestly would invalidate your reason? Everyone can probably relate to hating Chemistry, no matter what subcategory it is. 

     Considering that this was probably one of the most difficult courses you had in your program. You were just thankful and lucky enough you landed on one of the hottest professors amongst the campus.

     “Hey what did Professor Lehnsherr say about the problems during synthesis of proteins?” Peter asks.

     In spite of being fortunate about everything else about this subject, you were not quite happy about Peter Parker following you around like a lost puppy. Especially during the classes you both have alike. 

     The boy constantly asks so much questions as if you were the teacher already. In addition, he seemed smart enough to figure things out yet somehow he keeps on bugging you for reassurance.

     You did not want to be rude. He has not done anything to completely deserve your rage, however he was definitely getting on your nerves.

     Honestly you would not want to be infuriated over his consistent queries, but you were just as distracted as he was, maybe even more. With this, you were looking dumber to him each day. 

     To anyones pride, it was probably a kick in the stomach. You knew you were not the brightest in this class, but it was best to leave the information to yourself. No need for anyone to point out how mindless you were.

     And you really were not. You had other Science subjects you totally excel at. Sadly, Chemistry was just not one of them.

     “Well, uh, I don’t think I got that part either.” You look aside where he was seated and awkwardly smiled at him before mentioning an apology, “Sorry, Peter.”

     In return, Peter smiled at you and dismissed the question. You were not so sure whether to forget about it or take even the least bit of offense. You felt a little mocked by how easily he did it and innocently he smiled, but maybe you were just overthinking this through.

     “It’s fine,” he tells. “I just didn’t get the third bullet, but I’ll try to review it in the textbook when I get home.”

     “Oh okay, sure.”

     “Speaking about reviewing,” Again, Peter tries to start another discourse.

     “I was wondering if you got reviewers for the upcoming text for next week? We all know how difficult Professor Lehnsherr’s exams can get, right?” He lets out a forced chuckle, assuming it could lighten the mood.

     As much as he tried to make small talks with you, almost everyday, today you really feel like you did not want to return the favor. Especially after having to bring up the test next week.

     “I don’t really make reviewers, I usually just scan the books I have at home.”

     Lies. You probably have a box full of index cards and sticky notes in your room.

     You tried to use every studying tips every corner of the Internet could give. All those study-life hacks that really did not help much but pile up to your disorganized state of mind.

     You fucking tried to study Chemistry. You really did.

     “What, you don’t?!” He suddenly exclaims, not realizing the loudness of his voice as it almost caught the attention from people at front. “You seem to be busy all the time though. It’s like I always catch your writing or reading something in class.”

     Maybe your mood was just off but it definitely seemed weird for him to say that. Though, you did not want to make something from what he said. It was not worth your time.

     “I guess people are not always what they seem to be, yeah?”

     Again, Peter gives out that soft chuckle and smile, “Then I guess so. You do make a point.”

      He does not argue with you any further.

     “Can I at least borrow your Physics book? I only bought Chemistry and Biotech for the semester. Didn’t know they would actually utilize it for once,” he scoffs. 

     At first you hesitated. You were reviewing for it too, but you already felt bad for being no help whenever he asks a question and often times disregarding him when your mood if off. Plus, you did just make it look like you were not much of a study-freak.

     “Okay.”

     He instinctively fist pumps the air and looks at you with a wide, grateful grin. “Thank you so much. You’re a lifesaver, Y/N.”

     “Don’t mention it.” You grab the book he needs from your bag and hands it to him. He accepts it and places it inside his while also clearing the rest of his things.

     Looking at his digital wristwatch wherein he raised his index finger up as if he figured something out of it, he says, “He’s going to dismiss the class in a few minutes. We should get ready for Cell Biology next period.

     Oh how you hated it. Were you jumping to conclusions? Or was this boy really trying to be too close with you? Or was he just being nice and informing you to prepare ahead?

     God, you did not give Peter Parker the right to cloud up your thoughts like this.

     “Thanks,” you say, “but I need to talk to Professor Lehnsherr after class. Have to, uh, consult him about my concept paper that he made us submit last week.”

     As he tidies his notebooks up and carelessly shoves it inside his backpack, he immediately looks back at you with a confused expression, “Oh, I can always wait for you–”

     “It’s fine, Peter. Thank you though.” Two of your hands were instinctively waving in front of you, a meek gesture for him to stop coddling you or whatever move he had been trying to make at you.

     “Are you sure? I–”

     And if you were ought to be saved further from lashing out over Peter’s incessant attempts, you finally heard the words any student was longing to hear. “Class dismissed. I’ll see you all on Monday.” 

     “Eri–err, Professor Lensherr just dismissed the class. Better catch up to him before he heads out,” you hurriedly said. And with a loud slam from your notebook, you quickly shut him out. In addition, you practically shoved every thing in front of you into your bag without sparing a second glance.

     One strap of your back was slung over your shoulder as you hurriedly flew down the aisle. Professor Lehnsherr was midway into packing his things before you interrupted and approached him.

     “Professor,” you call out. “I have a question. About the paper I handed in last week.”

     “Uhuh.” He faintly furrows his eyebrows, trying to hide his already obvious bewilderment. “I forgot which assignment was that, Ms. Y/L/N.”

     There were students still exiting in class. So you tried your best to make your conversation with him less suspicious. He was most likely doing the same. 

     “It was about the Chemistry-proposal thing.” You snapped your fingers a few times as you gathered your train of thought, but realizing it was not going effectively. “Well I just wanted to confirm it since, you know, I was hoping for any feedback from you throughout this week.”

     “I’m not sure if I have read it. I’ve certainly been busy this week,” he clarifies. “Nonetheless, we can talk about it later. Thank you for bringing it up. I’ll make sure to follow it up in my schedule, Ms. Y/N.”

     Both of you made your way out the door once there were only a minuscule amount of students left in class. You probably had been looking at your professor with gushing stares, but you doubt the other people in the room could notice it. They were farther away from where both of you stood, much less would they be able to hear what the two of your were talking about.

     “Oh thank you so much, sir!” You almost cried out and jumped in joy while reaching through the threshold. Moreover, you composed yourself before mumbling out, “I’ll see you later, Eric.” 

     In which you were certain no one would have heard it besides him.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

     “I’m sure you’ll get a good grade in the exams, Y/N,” Eric leans back to his seat with a humble smile upon his face. 

     “Really? I doubt so, there’s a kid in your class that keeps bugging me out to a study date, or whatever you call it,” you sneer. You lick your lips as you finish taking a sip around the wine glass, setting it down and looking back at the man you were having dinner with. “It’s getting very annoying though, he surely knows how to get on my nerves.”

     “I’m sure he’s just trying to flirt with you, like any other college boys do.” He optimistically and maturely lays out the options. “It’s pretty normal for anyone to chase someone they are fond of, especially for young adults like you.”

     It was a pretty obvious sign that he was trying to let his message reach you. 

     “Well, I apologize for my standards of men,” you say. “I just want to skip the whole heartbreak in college and character development. All that stuff you usually see in a typical teen romance movie.”

     You sigh, looking down and saying, “I already found a man for me. Why would I stoop down for some guy who’s most likely wanting something from me, and dumping me once he got what he wanted.”

     “Y/N, I don’t blame you for liking men that’s ten years older than you,” Eric assures. “But I want you to realize that you still have a lot to look forward after graduating

     “And I look forward for you too!” You tried to not raise your voice, though having dinner in his house wouldn’t really catch anyones attention. “I can’t wait to finally graduate from second semester and be able to spend more time, publicly, with you.”

     “Yes, I understand, honey.” He places his hand over yours as he tries to calm you down. “Like I said, I just want you to make sure that you’ve clearly thought this through.”

      Eric adds, “There’s plenty of men out there. I don’t want to take away your opportunity of experiencing something new at such a young age.”

     “I’m turning twenty-four! I promise you I’m thinking everything through.” Your voice was much weaker than a few seconds ago. The evident tone of strength fades even with one glance from the man in front of you. You felt yourself shrink in your seat. But you were sure he does not intend to frighten you into compliance.

     “Sorry,” you pout. “Didn’t mean to raise my voice.”

     “I understand, and I won’t pressure you any more tonight, okay?” He tries to uplift your mood, detecting quickly the shift of the room’s atmosphere. “You deserve a good dinner tonight, like I promised, sweetie.”

     His smile made you calmer. It was then that you realized why you were attracted to a man like him even if he was still your teacher.

     The way he handles you in any given situation so sensibly. Though it may feels intimidating at first, he consequently tries to override the tone of the conversation which cheers you up.

     With one hand, he hold yours and gently draws it towards him at the same moment he leans his head down. Eric presses a kiss against the back of your hand and you butterflies immediately fill inside your stomach. “I love you.”

     “I love you too.” Every doubt you had entirely disappeared now. If there were hints of you hesitating to continue seeing Eric, they were certainly long gone now.

     “Let me drive you home after dinner,” he offers, like the gentleman he is.

     Eric always does make sure you get home safe. However, you both agreed that he drops you off at least a block away from your house. Just in case people around your neighborhood might catch you, or worse your parents.

     It was not like you were ashamed of your relationship with Eric. Cautious was the term.

     You were only a few months in seeing him. Fair enough, he was your second semester professor and the both of you met before that period.

     You were not only risking the wrath of your parents once they hear you’re dating an older man, let alone your Chemistry teacher. But you were also putting him at risk if ever his faculty finds out.

     Eventually, the two of you pack up and end your conversation. Other than talking about college, the two of you also talk more about yourselves which has progressed you into learning more about each other’s personalities and likes.

     He helps you out of his house and into the passenger seat of his car. It had been more than thrice wherein he drove you home, and the familiar scent of leather and the typical Glad air fresheners has clung onto your nose. You strap on your seatbelt on just as he was getting inside the driver’s side.

     The ride was not entirely dead silent. Eric made a few more small talks before finally turning a right which was where he usually drops you off. It amazes you how instantly he remembered the way to your home, as you instructed him the first time.

     “Thank you for tonight, like always, Eric.” 

     As always, you made your way out of his car prior to giving him a kiss. You only had to walk straight ahead, glancing at your home which had one dim light illuminating through one window.

     Upon entering the house, you figured your parents were already asleep and a hint of the living room lamp was present. Taking the benefit of not having to be interrogated by anyone, you rushed upstairs to your bedroom, turned on the lights, and immediately closed the door behind you with a sigh of relief. A smile was also visible after recalling your night with Eric.

     As you made your way towards your bed, a piece of paper lays obvious in the middle of it. Your sheets were flattened and tidied, so you could obviously detect when something is placed on top of it. You have no memory of leaving it early in the morning before you left too.

     When picking the paper up, you realized it was a piece of polaroid film. Its back was facing you, having no idea what to expect at the front.

     At that point, the smile from your face turned into horror and all the color in you basically drained away.

     The picture displayed you and Eric at one dinner night out from a few days ago, you still remember. It could have been anything but malicious, but the way his hand was intertwined with yours as both of you laugh away without worries. It was clear as day, the light shining perfectly at the both of you. Anyone can conclude what was happening in the picture.

     You did not know this day would come. The picture was taken from Eric’s home to prevent such things like this from happening. So it puzzled you just as much at it terrified you.

     This was definitely someone who had been stalking either one of you. It was not a mere instance like paparazzis who catch celebrities dating on the streets of New York.

     Someone definitely have been observing the two of you.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

     Days have passed, a week almost. Examinations are scheduled for tomorrow. 

     And you prayed that the picture you received would be the only thing terrorizing your dreams. But you were completely wrong.

     From thereon, you started to receive more pictures, specifically one every morning and night, from your past hangouts with Eric. It were simple shots but had the power to completely jeopardize either one of you, mostly him at stake though.

     It was obvious that the person behind this was definitely observing the two of you for a while. Probably even during the most earliest weeks when your relationship with him started.

     Though it may seem unfair, you did not mention anything about it to Eric. It was enough the he was keeping with you, his job, and himself private – which clearly was not working out so well. You felt like it was your responsibility to handle this situation. You were so sure you did not try to publicize anything and kept it on the low.

      Nevertheless, it was out there. Eric had not mentioned anything so you assumed he did not receive a picture like you did.

     Currently, you were seated at the farthest row at the back of the room, somewhat near the corner. Physics was your last subject and you could not wait but finally leave.

     In addition, you texted Eric that you would not be seeing him until after the exams. It was an easy excuse not to see him, saying that you wanted to focus on studying for it; however, you knew that you would just be busy thinking about the creepy stalker gallery you have been receiving.

     “Hey.” Unsurprisingly, a familiar voice whispers next to you which disrupts your heavy train of thoughts. “You finished studying for tomorrow? I’m about to end my review with Chemistry later.”

     “Cool.” Probably the one of the most basic replies in the universe. “I haven’t finished studying, I’m kind of dealing with a lot of things recently.”

     You made sure to generalize your answer, but enough for him to sympathize and at least give you some space.

     “Oh, sorry to hear about that.” Peter frowns. He takes his seat a few desks away from your left, leaving you to continue thinking. You were thankful for his gesture too.

     Surprisingly enough the boy barely bothered you for the entire lecture. You were still engrossed on finding out whoever was stalking you, even so dating back to boys you evidently rejected during the first semester – who badmouthed you immediately afterwards. There were not a lot of names, so it was easy to remember who was who.

     You traced back to each boy and remembered what they said after you told them you were not ready to enter a relationship – a complete lie, you just did not want to deal with college fuck boys.

     Just as you expected from any of them, rumors have spread out about you which was mostly shaming you physically or mentally. Some were milder insults than the other yet at the end of the day you did not care.

     “Fuck,” you whisper to yourself. “Who was that boy at Liz’s party.”

     Your eyes were sealed shut, recalling a list of names while using your thumb and middle finger to massage your temples. It was getting frustrating and mentally exhausting.

     After some time, you had so much word filling in and our of your brain that you were not aware that your own name was being called. Your heart practically skipped a beat after hearing it the first time, assuming that you were being called to recite an answer. But you became content after seeing that it was just Peter, who started tapping your arm to get your attention.

     “Huh?” You lightly shake your head before turning your head aside.

     “Oh, class was dismissed a few minutes earlier than usual–”

     “Don’t forget to answer the assignment regarding thermodynamic concepts found it the book. You’ll hand it in immediately on Wednesday.” The professor addresses the class as they were already carrying their bags and themselves out the room.

     You start placing your stationeries inside yours, packing your other things up until it was only a pair of earphones and your phone left in front. Peter stood near the aisle while looking at you just as you were zipping your bag shut.

     “Oh shoot, I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he states out of nowhere causing you to furrow your eyebrows at him. “I forgot I still haven’t returned your Physics book I borrowed last week.”

     Nodding your head and standing up, you shrug it off. “It’s fine. You can return it tomorrow.”

     “Sure, but how will you do your Physics assignment?”

     Oh yeah. Your professor literally reminded the class a few seconds ago.

     “I think I might be able to do it overnight. How many pages is the task?”

     “Eight, or nine I think.” He frowns looking very guilty at you.

     “Shit,” you swore. That was a lot of pages than the usual assignments given.

     “Yeah, professor said it could help add points if you somehow get a bad grade at the tests.”

     “Never mind,” you tried to set his mistake aside. “I’ll try to do it within overnight tomorrow. I can ask for help from my friend tomorrow morning and–”

     “Wait! I realized you can stop by my apartment to get it.”

     “Oh–er, Peter, I don’t think I have time to–

     “It’s just nearby the campus, I promise,” he assures and adds, “it wouldn’t be a hassle, it’s probably on your way home anyway so it won’t make a difference.”

     “Uhm.” You were doubtful of him. 

     However, you did realize that you did not have anything to do after class. You were keeping distance with Eric for the meantime which meant that your schedule was mostly vacant after this.

     “Please,” he begs, “I feel so bad for keeping it the whole week. I swear it’s like a few blocks from here.”

     “Would it take more than twenty minutes?” You purse your lips, convincing yourself that you would rather force yourself to study at home than spend it at someone’s apartment.

     “I only take around ten minutes to walk so,” he answers. “Unless you’re a slow walker, of course.” The tone of his voice seeming to be joking.

     Again, he pleads. This kid will not fucking budge.

     “Fine,” you blurt out. Though, you realized your sudden-almost lash out moment at the boy that you made sure to reiterate it but slower, “I mean, sure. I can stop by your apartment to pick up my book.”

     An awaited smile and sense of agreement washes over you.

     Peter then leads the way as you walked behind him, maintaining a short distance so people would not throw out any suspicious looks. Like in every college, everyone knows just how fast gossips formulate and rumors spread.

     If you think about it though, it might avert anyone’s suspicion – mainly pertaining to your creepy stalker – with you and your Professor. But you were not prepared for that yet, maybe some time when you can finally think about its consequences through.

     True to his word, as the both of you exited the campus, it took a short time before the boy in front of you told that you were about to enter through the entrance to the building of his apartment. You were not so sure if it was really a momentary walk or because you were so focused on thinking and keeping a distance.

     At some points he did often look back in case you got lost from following him. Plus, like always, he asked you simple questions either about your day or your subjects to make small talk. In which case, you were barely answering him but definitely progressed compared to when he attempted for previous times during class.

     In addition, as the two of you walked down the block, the number of faces you could only assume was in college decreased. Meaning that the glares at you eased up.

     “Well, here’s my location.” A loud huff follows as he uses a key to unlock the door for the entrance to the building, “It wasn’t that far, was it?”

     “Yeah, I guess it wasn’t that far.” You agree as he holds the door for you and then walks right after you.

     As Peter leads you upstairs onto around the fourth level, he proceeds to walk along the corridors. The array of same beige colored doors with small golden indents of unit numbers paraded along it too. Eventually he stops and inserts a key into the lock, twisting it until hearing the unlocking sound.

     For a moment you hesitated to follow him. You just wanted your book and you were sure he can give it to you on a shorter span than your walk from campus to here. Was it that troublesome?

     Entering his complex, you discovered how minimalistic it looked. To be fair it seemed quite small, the living room instantly greeting you through the entrance and a kitchenette at the side. But since his things were tidied up, it looked roomy.

     You instinctively close the door behind you, slightly aware that it did not create a locking sound. Following Peter, you took a few more steps until you stood still at the passageway between his living room and entryway.

     “Do you want a drink?” Peter asks.

     “No thank you.” You were still trying to subtle. “I just want my Physics book, Peter. Please?”

     He looked at you and paused for a split second. You could feel the frown behind the expressionless look. “Yeah. Okay. Sure,” he nods for a few times before turning around and proceeding to a seemingly narrow hallway. “I’ll get it in my room. Be back in a second.”

     Your feet faintly paced back and forth, still where you stood a few meters between the entrance and living room. After a few more minutes, Peter emerges carrying the familiar book with one hand.

     He approaches you within a few stops but stops in his tracks, leaving a distance from you. “Well uh,” he starts as his chin was tucked.

     “I just want to tell you something before I hand you back your book.” He looks up at you with really pleading eyes. During other instances in university, you were definitely familiar with that look. However, this one probably ranked as one of the most downhearted ones. 

     You did not want to feel regretful for him. Though it definitely feels like you just kicked a puppy.

     “Was is it?”

     “I love you,” he blurts out as his face goes back from hiding and looking down.

     It seemed awkward. You were somewhat expecting it, but you were also hoping that this day would not come – or not at least until you graduate and leave the university.

     “Oh.” You honestly did not want to react.

     Were you going to say sorry? How about thank you? Would it be better if you said you did not like him back? Or will the best response be that you are already taken?

     “Peter, I–”

     “Are you really dating Eric?” He shots up with eyes appearing almost teary.

     What. The. Fuck.

     “No,” you mutter. It was not much of an answer to his question. It was more on being quite horrified as your mind started jumping to conclusions.

     The amount of things running around your mind right now was immeasurable.

     Firstly, anyone could make two and two out of what he said, especially knowing that no one knows it even so around your circle of friends.

     Secondly, you should have thought better. Your doubts with Peter should have been grater and you totally underestimated him. However, some part of you prayed that he was just an annoyingly awkward nerd who follows his friends regarding flirting tips.

     Lastly, you turned around and ran.

     You probably got your way with opening the door and taking two steps out. It was not long before you felt arms wrap around your waist and either side of your arms. You were then lifted and pulled behind while you tried to kick at the air as an escape. Did not work though.

     Peter was surprisingly stronger than you thought. He already seemed fairly muscular at class, hiding behind those long sleeved sweaters and flannels.

     Eventually the last thing you remember was the image of the door of his apartment open while you get sucked into the room further. Everything went black afterwards.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

     When you felt that you were slowly restoring to consciousness, you were aware of the pounding at the back of your head and your arms.

     You tried to move your hands, wanting to press against the parts of your body that were aching. But you felt incapacitated as your wriggled your wrists around and felt an unfamiliar sticky fluid enveloping around them.

     “Glad you’re awake,” a voice says. “Does your head hurt?”

     You tried to open your eyes, the dark lighting of the room not cooperating with your vision. A light from the window and a lamp were the only things that helped you form something out of the void. 

     From there you saw Peter Parker sitting closely beside you at the edge of the bed.

     Hell please let this be a nightmare.

     “What–” You groan, “What do you want from me.”

     Your mind was building up your anger yet your body says otherwise. You felt exhausted and heavy.

     Peter shushed you in a caring manner, “We’ll talk when you feel better. I’ll let you get more rest okay, sweetie?”

     “Uhh.”

     That was what you could remember the most. If you have awoken for other times in between your sleep, then you surely did not have an idea of it.

     When you finally woke up, the level of your grogginess felt little to none already. You looked around and saw that the room was still dark and seemingly still nighttime.

     As your head was twisting from side to side, you saw Peter appear from the doorway carrying a translucent cup filled with water in one hand. “Hey, you’re finally awake.”

     Instead of replying to him, your wrists writhe beneath the fluid that you are still not familiar of. You could not really look up to get a good view of what it was, but it was wet, sticky, and felt like super glue.

     On the other hand, both your legs, ankles, and feet were free. The back of your thighs bounced against the bed as you struggled, but it would not do much since your arms were practically stuck.

     “Fuck,” you grumble.

     “That won’t help. You’re pretty much stuck there,” he says, Then he takes a seat at the edge of the bed, alike where you remembered him positioned from earlier, “Might as well talk to me until I let you go.”

     “Okay then, when will you let me go?” Your voice was calm hoping you could talk your way out of this mess. 

     “If you behave for me like a good girl, okay?”

     Shivers went up your spine as you cringed at his statement.

     Immediately, your mood shifts from calm to furious after hearing his disturbing bargain. Then purposely rolling your eyes for him to see. “How the hell will I behave if you’re a creepy stalker! You disgust me!”

     Peter hums, displaying a look wherein he seems like he was thinking. You were not sure if it was sarcastic or not, either way it annoyed the hell out of you. “Creepy stalker sounds overstated, it was more on being curious.”

     You scoff as well as exclaim, “You sent me photographs of me and Eric at his house! Fucking hell, Peter.”

     “Oh yeah that part.” He slyly pouts his lips to the side as he comes to realize what he had done, “I guess it was a bit creepy–”      “What do you mean a bit? That was invasion of privacy!”

     Despite being trapped, both your hands balled into a fist, feeling very furious at his dense answers. “I was living my own life! I kept my relationships to myself,” you cry out.

     “Yes, but you weren’t completely living your life,” he whispers while gently combing his hair through the front of your hair. “You deserve much more than someone who couldn’t proudly tell that you’re his girl. Is he even a man? Do you really enjoy that kind of life, sweetie?”

     “We were happy,” you weep. The evident crack on your voice was a signal that you were about to cry though you were not sure if it was because you were held hostage or because you were worried for Eric.

     No one would understand your situation with him right now. Especially Peter.

     “Trust me you weren’t,” he scoffs. “You deserve so much more, and I can give you that.”

     “I’d rather be alone forever than be with you, asshole!” Your voice was inconsistent, clearly affected by how fast Peter’s mood also shifts quickly.

     You also figured you were not looking entirely fresh while crumbling beneath him. Drops of tears and sweat were all over your face and neck, both your eyelids felt swollen, and your nose was almost stuffed.

     Peter stand from the edge of the bed and advances to his desk from the side. A harsh bang echoed throughout the room as your body twitched out of shock.

     “What does that dick have that I don’t?!” He grits his teeth as the curves of his jaw intensifies. A displeased look was written all over his face. 

     “P-please let me go.”

     “I need you to answer, sweetie. We going nowhere unless you answer!” He was never going to let you go if you were not going to cooperate. 

     Every step he takes closer back to the bed just increases your heart beat further. He had rolled the sleeves of his sweater up to the edge of his elbows and you felt threatened looking at how firm his arms looked.

     “Peter, p-please,” you hiccup.

     As Peter returns to the edge of the bed, he does not hesitate anymore to keep a distance. His hands hover to either sides over your body and sets the left side of his head on your midriff, laying while also getting a good view of your vulnerable state.

     He does not even look life he was struggling to make an effort to keep you down, but you could feel how heavy he was and was barely giving you a chance to move around.

     “I can give you so much more, Y/N.” The way his gaze directs at you was definitely one of the creepiest things you have experienced. He had so much emotions yet completely lacked sympathy for your state of mind.

     Shutting your eyes, you only cried further. You felt a hand cup one of your cheeks as its thumb wipes away the pouring tears. Like a broken record, you only pleaded more, “Please let me go.”

     “I can’t.”

     “Why.” You bawled, realizing he has no plans of releasing you anytime soon despite it. “I won’t tell anyone about this, I p-promise.”

     “I know that,” he says, “but you’re going to run back to Eric, probably tell him too, right?”

     You did not want to answer, merely shaking your head as you resisted a cry from your lips. It was somewhat what you had planned, but now you were just scared shitless.

     “You won’t tell anyone but him cause no one knows about it other than you two, right?” He corners your words. 

     “Eric would lose his job if someone, especially your parents find out, right?” Hell he was correct. He most likely had been stalking you for so long to find out about it.

“You love him so much, you wouldn’t want to hinde

     It was terrifying that someone had been learning about you and your life for a while without your awareness.

     “Please stop. What do you want... money?” you whimper. 

     Peter did not seem likes normal college boy; he does not think like one, too, for sure. Anyone with a right mind would not do something like what he did. No one would have the guts to do so.

     “I just want you, Y/N. I want to give you what you deserve,” Peter answers as he sits up and leans his face closer to yours. His mouth leaves a small gap from your right ear as he whispers, “Let me make you feel good.”

     “No–”

     He cuts off your plea with a proposition, “If you let me, I might consider letting you free.”

     “You want that, right? Want me to let you go...” His hand combs through the other side of your face, “just let me show you that I can do way better than him.”

     Every ounce of your blood was trying not to give in. You were smart, you ought to find a way out of this. However, you realized that it will not be enough. You already struggled so much from the super glue around your wrists and you could not imagine how much more would it take now that Peter was on top of you.

     Eventually you stopped struggling and let him be. There was no way out of this than to let him do what he pleases.

     You feel his lips press against your ear first and then progresses over your cheek. His grip around your arms loosen after detecting that you stopped struggling beneath him. You could feel him smile on your skin, “That’s it, relax for me. Good girl.”

     His hand reaches to undo your pants as his lips drifted on yours to force their way on making out with you. Another hand then presses under your jaw and throat. “P-Peter,” you choke, feeling lightheaded after being unable to breath properly though your mouth until the grip had loosen.

     “Sorry, babe.”

     He soon descends from your face to your neck and collar region. You were so sure he was leaving marks on you as you felt him suck and nibble against your  skin. Like a controlling asshole he was, you expect to see bruises on your skin by tomorrow.

     Despite having your hands fastened, he still moves your shirt upwards past your head. It halts and hands loosely around your arms as you emerge topless beneath the boy.

     “Fucking beautiful,” Peter compliments your body under his breath.

     Although he seemed to have time on his hands, he does not leave a second wasted. He also goes to haul your pants past your legs and ankles. The growing look of impatience on his face says it all.

     Peter moves from your side and welcomes himself between your legs. He spreads them out to have enough space for his body and you could not feel more embarrassed than this.

     You grit your teeth over each other as you felt him press fingers against your cunt. Instinctively, you clench around nothing as he continues to play with your entrance, making sure you get entirely soaked under his touch.

     “You know you shouldn’t hold back. I know you’re loving it so far, your body says otherwise,” he teases before laying on his stomach and moving his head closer to your pussy.

     Without a warning, he licks a strip of you making the back of your thighs quake lightly. Peter senses your reaction and continues to do so, using his tongue to play around and poke inside of you until you were slowly giving in without even realizing it.

     Just as you thought you were getting used to his actions, he then inserts fingers inside you, feeling your warmth around it as he pushes it in and out.

     “Oh,” you moan.

     He continues, making sure he also does not leave your bud of nerves behind. The tip of his fingers and tongue alternate on playing against it, making you throw back your head out of pleasure.

     “I bet he doesn’t please you like this,” he scoffs.

     Eventually, at your vulnerable state, you could already feel yourself closing to an orgasm. Your toes curled as your temples throbbed, sealing your eyes shut as you accepted on giving in.

     You bit onto your lower lip, trying to resist a moan. Somewhere inside you, you were still trying to fight back and not let Peter have the satisfaction he had been craving.

     “You’re being so tight... Just let it out.” He coaxes and you hate how you did what he told you so.

     The extensive grin on his face seemed priceless. He pulled back and you were aware that you seemed exhausted beneath him. You assumed he was done with whatever he wanted to do with you.

     But when he started to take off his sweater and unbutton his pants, you realized it was far from over.

     As he presents himself just as naked in front of you, he again welcomes himself between your legs. This time you get a better view of him and his muscles and abs. He gets a good view of your body too for sure as his hand reaches to start stroking his dick.

     He places one hand on your thigh and pushes it farther to give him more room. Finally, he inserts in inside you and you automatically felt him throbbing between.

     There was a growing heat between the both of you, and it only intensified as Peter started to thrust his hips forward and backwards. There was not even a rhythm from him as he moves harder after hearing you softly moan underneath.

     The slapping sound echoes through the room that would eventually reek of sex and you felt ashamed that your body was enjoying all of this.

     “Ah… ah… ahh… agh….”

     “You’re starting to enjoy this, aren’t you?” He brags as one hand was reaching for your breasts while the other holds your thigh up. “Fucking slut.”

     Your body and mind were tired and could only hold so much longer. It was not a surprise when your stomach started to churn your the muscles in your thighs were cramping up.

     Peter did no help after seeing you starting to wear out. He tried leaning in to make out with you and expect to moan into his mouth. You did for a moment, a combination of both your drools were streaming down from the corner of your mouth.

     “We’re making a mess, huh,” he mumbles. “But I know you’re already a dirty fucking girl.”

     He proceeds to deprave you with statements, “Can’t believe you’re enjoying my cock better than that old man’s... Such a fucking whore.”

     You twist your head aside, trying to hide the fact that you feel like your temperature were burning up. You were so sure he could feel the increasing warmth of your walls either way.

     Your eyes were rolling back as you resist arching your back, which was not really a success as the amount of pleasure was overwhelming.

     As you writhe beneath him, you felt a hand on your cheek. It pushes your head back onto looking at front and at Peter. “I want you t look at me when you’re going to cum, sweetie,” he orders and you could not do much anyways.

     The second time you came was a whole other level. You never felt this with any person you slept with so far, rather not this fast and intense to say. “That’s it, fuck, you’re tighter than I could ever imagine.”

     Peter continues until it was his time to cum. The bed continues to move along with his pace and your body was basically abused to his liking.

     And even if you were not aware of it, the boy was practically thankful that his agency decided to agree to soundproofing his whole apartment – his motive being for personal reasons, which they did not question any time soon.

     You were helpless, you knew that. All you had in mind now was rest. Your eyelids were heavy and your mind was drifting to slumber.

     The last thing you remember was Peter moving over your body to come all around your chest like a painter with its paint brush creating a masterpiece from your chest to your core.

     “I love you.”

a/n: ily pls leave comments <3

#dark!peter parker #dark!peter parker imagine #dark!peter parker smut #dark!peter parker x reader #dark!peter #dark!peter x reader #dark peter parker #dark peter parker x reader #dark peter parker imagine #dark peter parker smut #peter parker imagine #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #dark!verse #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #spiderman imagine #spiderman smut #spiderman x reader

[iamanartichoke]

I wasn't sure if I was going to post this, but I may as well.

I keep starting to reply to things and then stopping bc the words just aren't there, and I suppose I figured out the core of what bothers me so much (and is making me have such a rollercoaster of a fan experience) about the show.

(cut for length)

It's not well-written. My opinion is my opinion, so I'm saying this subjectively, take it or leave it, but ... I feel that it's not well-written. The overall story is fine, and the plot is fine, but I don't know if it's because of the limited number of episodes not being enough to house the story, or because of the relative inexperience of the writer/showrunner+director, or both, or something else, but -

In an earlier reaction post to episode 4, I mentioned really wanting to sink my teeth into all of the subtext I picked up on. That was what made me initially enjoy the episode so much - there were a lot of little moments that I initially felt revealed so much about the characters and about Loki, and I wanted to analyze them. But at some point, as I gathered more information, my perspective changed and now I no longer want to analyze the subtext bc ... subtext = good. Subtext w/out payoff = not as good.

I'll go into more detail in a moment, but I think the tl;dr of it is that I feel like the narrative requires the audience to work way too hard to put together all of the moving pieces here and, like, I kinda just don't want to do that work? Not so much of it, and not in vain. A lot of the enjoyment of Loki's characterization is coming from fans who are rationalizing why he's behaving as he is, but the narrative never actually confirms those rationalizations. It's asking us to figure it out and maybe our conclusions will be correct but maybe they won't, though. At some point, subtext isn't enough without explicit follow-through.

I thought my issue was with the lack of character development - that is, not having enough narrative space to really earn the big things that are happening now, like Loki/Sylvie or Mobius turning against the TVA. And that's still true, to an extent; I still feel like the pacing is all very off and it seems like most of these things kinda came out of nowhere (but are not unbelievable - just undeveloped).

But, yknow, it is what it is, it's a limited series, and I can excuse some things. Ultimately, my issue isn't a problem with what the narrative isn't doing, it's a problem with what the narrative already failed to do and probably cannot recover from at this point.

The narrative has left out significant details that should at least help us do some of the work here. If a person turned on Loki and started episode 1 and had no background knowledge of the character besides that he tried to take over New York - how would that person interpret Loki? Would that person say, oh, well, he's been through X, Y, and Z, and plus A happened, not to mention B, C, and D, so really, it makes sense that he seems off-the-rails, or that he'd want to get ridiculously drunk at the worst time ever.

Maybe we'd like to believe they would, but how would they be getting to that conclusion? The narrative hasn't led them in that direction so, no, they would not say well we have to consider this, this, and that. It would be impossible to really understand Loki as a character from just what we've gotten in the series. The general audience would probably interpret Loki as being out of his element and so it becomes, I wonder how this character is going to get the upper hand here. And, while that's not wrong, it's just so limited.

The narrative at face value does not address Loki's identity crisis from Thor 2011. It does not address his hurt and devastation at being lied to, nor does it address how complicated his self-image is (bc it sucked to begin with and that was before he found out he was part of a race of "monsters," as he'd been taught his entire life). It does not reference Loki being so broken at the end of Thor 2011 that he deliberately let himself fall into the void of space (aka tried to kill himself). It does not reference that he was tortured by Thanos or even that he went through a seriously dark time in between Thor and Avengers, and it absolutely does not reference or address any influence or control of the mind stone.

These are all things that we, the fan audience, know because we've already invested our time into this character's story. But tons of people, the general audience, wouldn't know these things. Or if they did, bc they saw Thor and Avengers, they wouldn't be thinking about them as deeply as we would, nor contextualizing them with how Loki is behaving now, or why it would make sense that he needed to get drunk, or why it's understandable that he needs to keep going-going-going in order to not have a spare second to think or feel.

They'd probably look at Loki, again, as a character who was a villain and is now getting his comeuppance in a place where he has no power or control, and no literal powers, and even when he manages to escape and catch up to the variant, he proceeds to fuck up their plan for seemingly no real reason except that he wanted to get drunk bc he's hedonistic. Which Sylvie even berates him for! I mean. This is not exactly a complex character breakdown, nor a very flattering one, but that's what the narrative has given us.

(If the narrative has addressed Loki's mind control, his torture, his mental breakdown, his suicide attempt, and his general shitty self-esteem as a result of his upbringing, please point it out to me. If the narrative has explicitly acknowledged and referenced these things anywhere and I am missing it, please show me where. Please explain to me how the casual viewer would know any of these things that they need to know in order to actually understand what's happening in this story.)

So I mean, okay, we have a narrative that doesn't paint a full, accurate picture of Loki. Fine, sure. But because the general audience starts out on the wrong footing, they're not going to get out of the overall story what the writers probably intended them to. For example, in episode 3, a lot of us theorized that Loki had some kind of plan - that he broke the timepad on purpose, for some reason, bc otherwise it wasn't believable that he'd be such a failure. But episode 4 revealed that no, there was no bigger plan, Loki just plain old messed up. Which is fine if, again, one is only considering the surface-level portrayal here, but it's not true to Loki's actual characterization.

I mean. Loki is not perfect and Loki actually fails a lot, this is true. He fails for a lot of reasons, but incompetence has never been one of them. Usually it's that either things grew beyond his control, or there ended up being too many moving parts, or he had to change his plan at the last minute due to some roadblock or another being thrown his way, or even that he got in his own way - whatever the case may be for his plans' failures, he was always at least shown to know what he was doing.

That wasn't the case here. The "plan" to fix the Timepad failed as a direct result of Loki's actions, which were careless and made him seem incompetent, like he couldn't even handle this mission. "You had one job," etc. And there were pretty big consequences for this; they were not able to get off-world in time and would have been killed had the TVA not shown up at the last second.

And maybe none of these things matter bc the writers never intended any of this to be a reflection on Loki's character, positive or negative. The situation exists solely because the writers needed to put Loki and Sylvie together in some kind of hopeless scenario so that they could get closer, and thus the narrative could set up their romance. I get that - but, there were other ways to do it that didn't require Loki to look foolish.

Furthermore, the whole reason they needed to set up the romance is to show Loki eventually learning to love himself (like, figuratively but also literally). The audience is supposed to gather that Loki and Sylvie fell for one another, possibly due to the high emotional aspect of, yknow, being about to die (in addition to the variant-bond). The intent is clear: Loki and Sylvie almost die but get rescued at the last minute, having now created an emotional bond --> Loki and Sylvie team up and the narrative further establishes that Loki, at least, has caught feelings --> Loki might confess them but is pruned before he gets the chance --> he somehow survives, he and Sylvie are reunited and don't want to lose one another again, and the combined power of their love is enough to break the sacred timeline and spawn the multiverse, and the reason that the power of their love is so, well, powerful is because it's about self-love and self-acceptance as much as it is about having the capacity to love someone else. The end.

I get all that. The writers more or less said all that. And, I mean, it's certainly not the way I would have chosen to go about it, but it's a fair enough arc to explore. I don't really have an issue with the intent - but my question, however, is this: if the narrative has so far not addressed Loki's background issues (as outlined above), and has furthermore kinda gone out of its way to portray Loki as hedonistic and narcissistic, among other things (like kinda incompetent), and the context the audience starts with is that Loki's this villain who deserves what he gets -

- my question is 1, why should the audience care whether or not Loki gets to a point of loving and accepting himself (thus to make the theme of self-love, via the romance, hold weight) if they don't know that he hates himself to begin with and 2, why should the audience root for Loki to reach that point when so far the perception of him is that he's "kind of an asshole"? if he's a hedonistic narcissist, he probably already has a pretty inflated sense of himself, right? A misplaced inflated sense of himself, at that, because, again, the narrative has made him out to be not that capable of much of anything. (And it didn't start out that way! It seemed to start out with Loki being capable and intelligent but it's like episode 3, in trying to set up the romance, just jumbled it all up somewhere. I think this is why I'm harping on the Loki/Sylvie aspect so much - it's frustrating bc it kinda messes up the whole story and can't even accomplish what it's supposed to anyway.)

Anyway, that's beside the point. What I'm ultimately getting at is, at what point is the audience supposed to get invested in Loki's personal growth journey?

They can't, not really. Without understanding and having the context of everything Loki has been through up until now, and why he hates himself, and why it's so important that he learn to love himself, then the "payoff" becomes kinda pointless bc the significance of it is lost in translation. So suddenly we're left with this romance that comes off as either "Loki loves Sylvie bc of Reasons" (best-case scenario) or "Loki loves Sylvie bc he's vain, narcissistic, and kinda twisted" (worst-case scenario). Neither of these conclusions are what the writers intended or were going for, I'm positive, but there we are, regardless.

In order for the writers' intent in these storylines to land, they need to address the context of what makes these particular stakes high for Loki. So far, they haven't done that. They're asking the audience to pick up on all of these things, and they're showing things that subtextually make sense and are relatively in-character - but only if you realize there's subtext in the first place.

But you can't expect the audience to do all of the work for you. If you don't want the audience to think that Loki is a narcissistic asshole and instead you are trying to convey that, worst-case scenario, he thinks he's a narcissist but is an unreliable narrator, then you have to address that. If you need the audience to understand why you're going the selfcest route and why it's important to explore Loki's capacity to love himself and others, you have to address where that exploration is starting from and why it matters. Etc etc etc.

The narrative isn't doing any of that. And it isn't like it'd be that hard to do it. They don't need to reinvent the wheel here; a lot of the pieces are already there. A few lines of dialogue for context, a brief scene here or there addressing the issues, a little more care and consistency in how Loki handles things - these are all little things that could go a long fucking way in making the narrative stronger.

I'm rambling. My basic point is that my rollercoaster of emotions with this show is because

- as a part of the fan audience, not the general one, I can contextualize and analyze the subtext and come to the conclusions the show wants me to, and thus find the story and the characters more or less enjoyable,

- but I am also going to be using the subtext to come to conclusions that aren't there but probably should be (I think it would be a better story, for example, for Loki to confuse platonic love with romantic love bc it would pave the way to explore just how fucked up Loki's understanding of love - whether of other people or of himself, and the different forms it can take - actually is)

- and when they're ultimately not there, then I think, okay why am I bothering doing all this work just to ultimately feel very unfulfilled? They don't even have to write it the way I would, I'm not saying that, but they do have to do something to make the story feel rewarding.

If we don't get some confirmation of what Loki's been through, and where his headspace is, and why it matters for him to love himself, then the story remains pretty shallow and, for me, it's not fulfilling enough. It's not engaging enough. There isn't actually anything to sink my teeth into, so it becomes kind of boring. Maybe it's rewarding to other people, and that's great for them, but like - I need more than whatever this is.

So I'm just like - well, I had a lot of worries about this show, but my being bored wasn't one of them and now there's only two episodes left and am I really not going to get anything out of this, in the long run? No new canons, no new depths or layers, no new information on Loki's experiences? This is it?

I don't dislike it. I didn't start out disliking it, and I probably wont end up disliking it. I mean, there are a lot of good moments, and good things, and fan service-y things that I appreciate. As far as inspiration for fic goes, it's a goldmine, both plot-wise as well as aesthetic-wise. All of that is great. I don't dislike this show.

But I am disappointed in it, and I feel like I'll be watching the next two episodes lacking the sense of anticipation that would make it exciting. I'll still enjoy them, probably, if for nothing else just the sheer Loki content, but whatever it was I felt watching episodes 1 and 2 is gone and I'm sad about that, too. Because I really wanted to feel fulfilled by this series; I wanted it to fill up the void that Loki's death in IW created three years ago. And I just ... don't feel it. Maybe, maybe that'll change over the course of episodes 5 and 6. I don't know.

Everything that I end up enjoying long-term, I think, will come about as a result of my own interpretations and analysis and while theoretically there's nothing wrong with that, if I had known all I'd get out of this series was more headcanons or support for my current headcanons then, well - that's fine, I suppose, but I'll definitely a little bit robbed.

#loki spoilers #loki series negativity #loki tv series spoilers #loki series spoilers #long post

[ashesandhalefire]

okay but why didn’t they spread this hallucination plot over like three episodes for the maximum unhinged psychological drama effect

michael and alex get actual development in the first half of the season and are back together by 3x06 no i won’t justify or explain just know that i’m correct. we cut the vision plot and anything else that wasted time and accelerate the lockheart machine and jones because those are the ones that are a) semi-interesting, b) purposeful, and c) relevant

we actually see michael or alex asking each other out on their very first real in-public date because that’s a big fucking step for them and i think it’s dumb that we got told it happened in some dialogue

it can be that it wasn’t going to be for another day or two because hello they have other priorities like kyle, who is mentioned every other sentence in my version of s3 because everyone in this town loves him and is horribly repentant over how they’ve underappreciated him <3, and max, who is also unconscious while a sexy maniac borrows his body

anyway they spend time apart working on their respective side plots and that is okay! because we’re getting indications that they’re thinking about each other either from direct mentions or glances at texts or dumb little post it notes from each other that they keep on their desks

and we actually get to see that conversation with sanders because michael being able to confide in someone about this is a big fucking deal and again i didn’t deserve to be told about it in some throwaway dialogue like it wasn’t a scene that had the potential to shatter me

alex is working on the lockheart machine in the meantime and he genuinely thinks that he’s accessing an alien visual guide for the machine because it’s nora! nora is good! nora can’t be evil! and she’s generally unhelpful and speaks like a guide he doesn’t understand how to use properly and then he notices the project shepherd insert and thinks - oh! duh! - she’s corrupted! but technology is his thing and he’s going to figure this out, so he keeps working

and we get a scene of him going to visit kyle, who is safely being cared for at deep sky, where their scientists are working on waking him up under ramos’s constant, intense, unyielding supervision, which coincidentally alleviates the confusion of “why is this coma patient in a random barn” and “why has nobody noticed alex sitting around for two days even though all the walls are glass”

and alex gets to have a little self pep-talk with kyle about how he’s nervous and how he’s trying to resolve the machine issue before it becomes a problem like everything always does, and he also gets to be a little teary and say that he misses working with kyle and that he wonders if maybe he hadn’t been distracted by deep sky things and if they had stayed a team if kyle would’ve still been in so much trouble now

so alex feels guilty and helpless and he goes hard into solving the machine, and he does something - he moves the turquoise closer, he turns a knob, he prods at the project shepherd insert a little too hard - and suddenly the nora that he’s talking to is a little different. she’s a little more personable. she’s kind. she’s friendly. she still doesn’t have a lot of super helpful answers for him because she’s still kind of corrupted. but he doesn’t mind talking to her.

we can still get the same “how’s the office honey” convo because that was cute, but i think alex should be surprised when michael calls because he hasn’t realized how long he’s been working. he didn’t realize that his safety window expired. he didn’t even hear the alarm. he didn’t realize he turned it off. and nora is there the whole time, just smiling and being fond, and alex swears that he won’t forget their date and hangs up.

the music starts playing again, and nora tells alex that there was no music on the planet where she lived, and then alex gets caught up in telling nora about michael because for a second he forgets that she’s not nora. that she’s just a visual manual. she’s not actually michael’s long-lost alien mother that alex accidentally got killed when he brought two civilians along on a recon mission

but she likes alex, which is appealing in a way he can’t explain. she thinks he’s smart and she believes he’s going to solve the machine and she likes knowing that he’s been trying to take care of michael. he leaves deep sky to do other plot related things in town, to visit kyle, whatever, and when he comes back, she’s there and she’s smiling and she’s so happy to hear about her son. her beautiful son that obviously loves alex very much and who alex has worked very hard to protect

but she doesn’t like that he hasn’t always been successful

she doesn’t like that alex was the one that put michael in jesse’s crosshairs, and she doesn’t like that alex didn’t have the foresight to think twice before bringing michael to the shed, and she doesn’t like that he’s made michael feel like he was ashamed of him, and she doesn’t like that he lied about having the console piece - that he tried to trap michael just like every other manes man was always trying to do - and she doesn’t like that he got her blown up. that she lived all those years, that she survived the worst that jesse manes had to offer, that she had hope of escaping and finding her son, all until alex came along. and even after that, alex didn’t learn. even after getting nora blown up, alex still tried to trust his father, still took the console piece back and got himself kidnapped and made it so michael had to build a bomb that would kill what was left of his family just to save alex from his father

and now it becomes clearer that alex’s progress with the machine isn’t really progress. it’s still turning off and on at random. he can’t reach the project shepherd piece. nora isn’t speaking to him kindly anymore, and her clothes are tattered and her hair and face are dirty.

she prods at him again about the ways he has put michael in danger, and alex argues back that he has worked very hard to make sure nothing his father did could touch michael. he looks tired, frazzled

and nora thinks this is especially amusing because maybe the one thing that alex should be making sure isn’t touching michael is himself. maybe alex himself is the one manes weapon that he hasn’t considered.

and the conversation devolves into the same fight and comes to the same conclusion - that alex fears his capacity for love is not enough to overcome his father’s capacity for hate

and alex knows that she isn’t real. she isn’t real, she isn’t real, she isn’t real. she’s a hallucination, she isn’t real

but she doesn’t need to be real to tell the truth, alex. she doesn’t need to be real to be right. all it means for her to be a hallucination is that alex has known the truth all along, that deep down alex has always known that he isn’t enough, that he’s broken inside, that michael is better off without him.

and - oh, look! - the balcony door is open

#roswell new mexico #alex manes #michael x alex #like it's essentially the same thing they did but stretch it out! let it breathe! expand into those nuances!! #why did we speed run through a psychological breakdown??

[squiggledrop]

Tying the Knot - Spencer Reid x Reader

Masterlist

Part 1: No Strings

Part 2: Frayed Ends

Summary: Strings Part 3– Spencer and Reader have a friends with benefits arrangement. The only problem is, they both have feelings for each other. Spencer tries to fix things between them and convince Reader to let down her guard and let herself love him.

Word count: 3k

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Category: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: implied smut, crying, kissing

Note: Thank you so much to everyone who showed so much support for the other two parts!! You all mean the world to me!

Spencer sat on the subway alone that night, his mind swarming with thoughts of you. When he saw you smiling earlier today, he knew he never wanted to see it fade, and that he would do whatever he could to make sure it stayed like that. 

He loved you. There was no denying that. He felt horrible that you thought he didn’t love you because that was the farthest from the truth. He needed to tell you how he really felt. He couldn’t live with himself otherwise, knowing that you thought he really meant it when he said it was just sex. It was never just sex, at least not to him. It was never just anything when it came to you.

That night, he decided to write you a letter explaining everything. He came to the conclusion that it was the safest option, and if things went in an unfavorable manner, it was the easiest medium to recover from and pretend nothing happened.

So, that’s how Spencer found himself sat up at his desk all night, crumped paper littering his floor, as he tried to pour all his feelings for you onto a piece of paper. Needless to say, he didn’t get much sleep that night.

The next morning, Spencer gently placed the cream envelope on your desk, fiddling with the corners to make sure it was noticeable. He looked around the room, feeling his heart rate increase. How would you react? Would you throw it away and never talk to him again or would you realize that you love him too? Spencer told himself he would be okay either way, so long as you knew how he felt. He didn’t want to hide his feelings from you. He knew you were it for him, and he would love you for the rest of his life. And if he would have to hold his unrequited love for you for the rest of eternity, he would do so happily, knowing that he was honest with you and gave it his all. He couldn’t live with himself, thinking you didn’t know the extent of his feelings for you. Trying to calm his nerves, he ran his thumb along the pads of his fingers. Not wanting to be here when you read the letter, he heads to the bathroom when he hears the ding of the elevator.

Taking a deep breath, you walked into the bullpen. You had already survived one day of heartache, what’s one more? Sure, with every breath you took, you could still hear Spencer’s last words to you piercing your lungs: “I didn’t mean it. It’s just sex.”  And every time you closed your eyes, you were met with his cold, rigid frame walking away from you, as if you meant nothing to him. Which apparently was the case. How could you be so stupid and think he actually meant it. But, it doesn’t even matter now, because no matter how much you want to blame this on Spencer, you can’t. Yes, he broke the rules, but you were the one who left. You were the one who took a heat of the moment slip up and blew it out of proportion and pushed away the one good thing in your life.

When you got to your desk, you threw down your bag, grateful that Spencer was nowhere to be seen. Although, you would lie if you said you weren’t a bit disappointed. As you took out some paperwork from your bag, you noticed an envelope sitting on your desk next to a stack of papers. You felt your heart clench, instantly recognizing the handwriting your name was written in on the back of it. Slowly, you wedged your finger under the flap, breaking the seal. You pulled out the slightly crumpled lined paper that looked as if it had been read through a hundred times already. Letting out a small gasp, you fell into your seat, scanning the room for Spencer. Not seeing him anywhere, you held up the letter with shaky hands, your watery eyes pouring over every word.

(Y/n),

Throughout every book I have read and paper I have written, words never seem to fail me, that is until it comes to you. No matter how many times I try to write this, it still doesn’t feel good enough. I have read countless stories about the triumphs and tribulations of love. I have tried finding a single one that could capture even an ounce of the love I hold for you, but they all fall short. 

I think that’s because, when I read the words that surround me on these dusty shelves, I am reminded of all the things I love about you. Ask me to find a poem about your beauty and I can do that with no problem. Ask me to find a book about how it feels to kiss you and make love to you, and I can reach for one without leaving this chair. But, ask me to find one that perfectly explains why I love you, and I would not be able to. 

Yes, I love your beautiful smile and sparkling eyes. I love how it feels to hold you in my arms and press my lips all over your captivating body. I love everything about you, even the parts that you deem unworthy, but that is not why I love you. 

I love you because, in a group of people, you are the only one I care that is laughing at my stupid jokes. I love you because when I am having a terrible day, you are the person I want to sit with me and just breathe. You are the person I trust with all my secrets, and the one person I want to share all my accomplishments with. I love you because you are the person I want to bicker with over stupid, petty things. You are the person I want to set off the fire alarm with while attempting to cook dinner and the person I want to yell at me for getting the wrong kind of milk at the grocery store. You are the person I want to wake up next to every morning, sipping our coffees in a calming silence before we head into work. 

We see the darkest parts of humanity through our job. Yet, every time I look at you, I am reminded of how beautifully wonderful life can be. You make my life beautiful. And because of that, I love you.

I lied. That night, when I said that I didn’t mean it, I lied. I meant it, and I mean every word that I just wrote. (Y/n) (Y/l/n), I love you. I love you so much that it consumes every part of me. I’m sorry that I ever made you doubt my feelings for you. I will never do that again. I love you.

I know you said not to get feelings involved, but I have loved you from the first day I met you.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I lied. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry that I broke our rule and that you left. But, I’m not sorry for saying it. I will never be sorry for telling you how I feel. Because I love you. I just hope that you love me too.

All my love,

Spencer Reid

Tears now covered the paper in your hands, and you threw it onto the desk, not wanting anyone to see you like this. You cupped your hand over your mouth, trying to hold back your sobs until you made it to the file room. Once inside, you collapsed onto the floor, slamming the door shut behind you. You don’t know what to feel. You are so overwhelmed and your heart is beating too fast and Spencer’s words that are replaying in your head are too loud. You don’t know what to do, so you do all you can do, and just sit there.

Spencer convinces himself that he has given you sufficient time to read the letter and that he should probably make an appearance. If not for you, then at least to actually do some work. What’s the worst that could happen? You ignore each other again? He could handle that, or so he tells himself. He just has to walk out there and sit down at his desk. He can do that.

Exiting the bathroom, his steps falter as he notices you aren’t at your desk. He walks over, noticing that the envelope had been opened. But, when he looks at the contents of the letter, his heart drops. The ink is smudged with tear stains. He didn’t mean to make you cry. That’s the last thing he wanted. He curses himself for hurting you even more and begins frantically searching the office for you.

He hears muffled sobs coming from the file room, and he reluctantly knocks on the door. After hearing nothing in response except for your continued whimpers that were sending daggers through his chest, he forces himself to open the door. When he sees your disheveled state on the ground, he gasps, feeling guilty for causing you to feel this way.

At the sound of the door opening, you turn your head, revealing your puffy eyes. Upon noticing that it was Spencer, you quickly stood up, trying to dry your cheeks. You both stood there in shock, not knowing what to say. Through your foggy eyes, you notice as tears begin to form in his sullen eyes too. Both of you looked miserable, and it broke the other’s heart. 

Spencer was the first to say something, breaking the silence. “I-I’m so sorry for making you cry, I didn’t-”

“Spence-” you cut him off. You didn’t think you could handle the sound of his pained, raspy voice. You didn’t trust yourself, not with how broken you felt inside.

“No. I just- I need to say this,” he insisted. Reluctantly, you nod, figuring it was the least you could do while trying to stop any more tears from falling. “I meant every word,” he continued, trying to meet your gaze. “A-and I don’t want to take it back, any of it. I don’t regret any of it. I-I love you (Y/n).” 

You sigh at his words, unsure of how to respond. There was no doubting what you felt about this man, but you couldn’t admit that to yourself, let alone him. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” you croaked out. You still hadn’t dared meet his eyes, but you could feel his heavy gaze penetrating into you.

“I want you to say you love me too,” he whispered. 

“You know I can’t do that.” You bit your lip as you shook your head.

“Why not?” The desperation in his voice was almost palpable. You swallowed thickly before speaking again.

“Look Spencer, I’m sorry I hurt you, and I’m sorry I can’t be what you deserve, but I-”

“But that’s just it,” he interjected. “I don't need you to be anything but yourself. That’s all I need. You are all I need. I love you and I just need you to let me.”

“But Spencer, I-”

“Please,” he begged, shaking his head while on the verge of tears. “I can’t listen to you say you can’t do this. I can’t listen to you lie to me and to yourself. I know you love me too. If you didn’t you wouldn’t be here crying.” You roll your eyes, running your hand through your hair. “If I'm wrong, and you truly want me to stop, I will.”

You were silent. Spencer’s eyes searched yours for an answer, for any indication that you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you. 

“Am I wrong?” he pressed. The insecurity he was trying so hard to quell still seeped through his voice.

After another moment of silence, you looked away, blinking away more tears that fell.

“No.” you choked out, looking up at the ceiling. “God, Spencer, why do you have to make this so difficult?” You look back at him, finally meeting his gaze. “Of course I love you. How could I not?”

“Then what’s the problem?” he demanded, stepping towards you. But, you still backed away from his touch.

“Because I love you too much,” you whispered.

Spencer’s mouth opened as looked at you, confusion clouding his face. “I-I don’t understand.”

“Fuck, Spence,” you sighed, gathering your thoughts. “I can’t let you love me just so I can hurt you later on, okay? Every time I've let someone in, I end up hurting them. And I've hurt you enough already.” 

Spencer stared at you in disbelief, trying to formulate a response. At his silence, you swallowed the lump in your throat, pushing past him towards the door. Before you could, however, Spencer grabbed your wrist, pulling you back.

“I don’t care,” he whispered. His eyes bore deep into yours, his hand that still clung to your wrist was burning your skin. 

“Spence-” you scoffed, pleading with him. 

“No!” he shouted, full-on sobbing now. You reluctantly rolled your eyes again, trying not to show him how the tears that dripped down his face were plummeting straight into your heart, each one forming creators in the fragile fabric of your wounded heart. Spencer swallowed thickly before continuing. “You don’t get to decide how I feel or what I can handle, okay? That’s up to me. I love you and that’s all that matters. I don’t care if we break up in fifty years or in five weeks. I love you, just give me a chance before you give up on us. I-” he choked on a sob, “you haven’t even given me a chance”, he whimpers.

You were so close to caving in and just letting yourself give in to him. You wanted to feel his arms around you again. You desperately missed how safe and warm they made you feel.

“But what if we do break up?” you cried, looking deep into his eyes.

“Then we break up.”

“But I can’t lose you, Spence. I-I couldn’t survive it. I don’t want to know what it’s like to have you just for it all to be taken away one day”

“Who says I’m ever going to leave?” Your mouth opened and closed, you didn’t know what to say. “(Y/n), I love you. Even if we break up, I promise I will always be there for you.” He ran his hand through his hair, pacing slightly in the tiny room. “God, (Y/n), before I met you I didn’t even know it was possible to love someone this much, and I want to spend the rest of my life showing you.” He stopped moving, turning directly towards you. “But, I can only do that if you let me. I-I know it’s hard to let yourself be vulnerable, but I promise I’m here to catch you. It’s okay if you want to go slow, I’m willing to wait as long as you need. I just need you to not act like it’s over before we’ve even started.”

“I-I don’t know…”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I don’t know, okay?”, you snapped, looking up at him

“What are you so afraid of?”

“Everything Spencer!” you admitted a bit too loudly. “Everything…” you sobbed, collapsing. Spencer rushed forward, catching you in his arms. He wrapped his arms tightly around your back, supporting you. He ran his hands up and down your back, trying to soothe your muffled cries that stained his shirt. He could feel his own tears running down his face, but at that moment, he didn’t care about anything but holding you, so he let them roll down his face and into your hair. 

Your mind was racing, voicing screaming at you to leave and never look back. They told you that you were only hurting him more and that you were ruining everything. 

But, when you felt Spencer’s gentle hands roaming your back and his soft hushes brushing against your ear, you had never felt safer. When you had finally calmed down and your breath steadied, you pulled back slightly so you could look at him. You stared at Spencer, into his deep amber eyes. For the first time, you didn’t see all the ways you could destroy him and lose everything. Instead, you saw a future. You saw all the possible ways in which you could love him and share a life together. Slowly, after taking a deep breath, you nodded your head.

“Okay”, you whispered.

Spencer’s face lit up upon hearing you. “Yeah?” he asked, weary that one wrong move would send you running.

“Yeah,” you smiled, falling back into his open arms. He wrapped his arms tightly around you, never wanting to let you go. He sighed in relief and kissed the top of your head while rubbing your back. Your arms tightened around his neck as you lifted your head to his ear. He could feel your warm breath on his neck, sending comforting shivers down his spine.

“I love you too,” you breathed into his ear. You pulled back slightly, but before you could do anything, Spencer smashed hip lips onto yours. He kissed you with such passion, that swore you felt your heart become physically tethered to his. 

When you finally broke apart, desperate for air, you looked at each other, both standing there with glassy eyes, reflecting each other's smiles. You held one another in comfortable silence, knowing that regardless of what uncertainties the future held, it would be okay, because Spencer loves you, and you love him.

----------

series taglist: @eevee0722​ @infinity1321​ @dracoxmgg​ @username2002​ @dracomikaelson

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #Dr Reid #spencer x reader #spencer x y/n #spencer x you #reid x reader #reid x you #reid x y/n #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid insert #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #mgg #mgg smut #spencer reid fic #dr reid #mgg x reader #mgg fic

[well-its-not-human-anymore]

Okokok here this: april, reader and casey try to prank the boys. How does it go. With who does it fails/success, what was the prank, do they get caught? Do the boys get revenge, and if so, how?

Also, splinter sees it all unfolds, does he just gets himself a snack and watch, or does he tries to subtly join in without getting caught? (We all know hes got a playful side cmon)

Bonus: they try to prank vern too, maybe the boys join in to prank him? What do they do? Does he retaliate?

Okay so I admit I let my brain go nuts on this one, so it's a little long but I was cackling the entire time I was writing it.

TMNT Headcanons

Prank Wars

Leonardo

In your complete and utter defence, Leo had 100% started this

And also in your defence, you did tell him not to

Twice

But he tricked you into watching a horror movie and ended up dying your hair green

This meant war

You'd even wrapped up April and Casey into it

Their problems were your problems

Which meant that April was the one who convinced Splinter not to say anything to his sons

He was perfectly happy to oblige

Casey was just there to help set things up

And you liked the way his mind worked

The objective wasn't to go unnoticed, there would be no point in doing it and having no proof

You were doing this to prove that you could

Leo had emphasized that he couldn't be distracted

That you were to obvious and clumsy to prank him without him noticing

Challenge fucking accepted

And that's how you ended up at the kitchen table eating lunch with April and Casey when the boys were coming back from meditating with Splinter

April kept having to shove food in her mouth to hide her laughter

Casey just decided to wear sunglasses

And you kept overpowering the urge to smirk

"Hey guys, good to see you. Y/n have you seen my katanas?"

With the obstruction of water in your mouth you just nodded at him, pointing to the other room

He sauntered off, none the wiser to your victorious grin

When he came back in only a moment later his expression had done a complete 180

Leo made direct eye contact with you and you held that stare like a wolf cornered in its den

"does someone want to explain why my katanas are encased in blueberry jello?"

You raised your hand like a child in class

"hate to break it to you, but it's actually berry blue you uncultured bitch"

Raphael

Ohhhh you were so undeniably dead

A whole other level of six feet under

It wasn't a surprise that April and Casey had backed out on this one

It also wasn't a surprise that Splinter had offered to stand up for you if things went sideways

Donnie even gave you a sheet of paper with a list of hiding spots before hand

All of this went completely unnoticed by Raph, the target of your latest scheme.

And that was fine, you had only one objective here-

Make it out alive

But it was amazing what 1 person could do with some extra cash and internet access

So that's what led you to your current position.

Cross legged on the bench, watching the large red terrapin get ready for his first set, that in itself wasn't unusual, you always watched him lift just in case you needed to run and grab someone if something went wrong

Raph was none the wiser to your plan

At least that's what you thought

Your book was in your lap and you were calmly scanning your pages, somewhat comprehending the words but keeping a very close eye on the turtle across from you

"Hey y/n?"

You peeked over the edge of your book to meet his eyes

And your heart sank to your stomach

"Yeah Raph?"

He smirked at you, taking a lumbering step forward

"You ever seen that episode of the Office where Jim fills Dwight's phone with nickels so when he takes 'em out Dwight punches himself in the face?"

Shit shit shit shit shit shit-

"Uh... No, can't say that I have, why do you ask?"

That damn smile got even wider and all of your muscles tensed, you were ready to bolt

"I'm giving you a fifteen second headstart. Starting right now."

You flew to your feet and sprinted out of the weight room

"DONNIE WE GOTTA CODE RED!"

Your lungs were ready to burst by the time you made it to your decided hiding spot. Heavy footsteps went right underneath you and you held your breath, you wouldn't dare move.

You didn't come down until hours later when Splinter came and coaxed to you out of hiding

But deep down you knew you'd started something you couldn't finish.

Vern Fenwick

You didn't even have to convince the guys to partake in this

You didn't even get the chance to tell them what you were planning

They were already brainstorming

None of you let a word of it slip to April, she would've shut you down faster than you could blink

A complete buzz kill

But fake blood was relatively cheap and all of Vern's flooring was tile (meaning extremely easy to clean and bleach)

Donnie had really been the mastermind behind the execution, none of you had any idea how he'd rigged the apartment plumbing

But he'd assured you it would only affect Vern's suite and no one else's so you didn't concern yourself with it further

And after the fact you had to wonder what exactly the former cameraman was planning on the date he'd been in the middle of

All you knew was that you got a very frantic call from the falcon himself yelling about blood coming out of his tap and the sink wouldn't shut off and it was everywhere and what the fuck was happening?

You all knew that Splinter thought it was hilarious, he'd never been particularly fond of Vern

But he did make his sons assist in the clean up and bleaching of the victims apartment floor

You went too and offered moral support

Vern had hit on you one too many times, so there was no way you'd feel bad about this

Michaelangelo

As far as pranking went, you and Mikey were partners in crime

He always had great ideas and you always came up with the best ways to execute those ideas without getting caught

But when you separated those two chaos was guaranteed

You weren't entirely sure how you had been pitted against each other but you weren't entirely mad about it

You couldn't say the same for anyone else though, the others had been on edge all week.

Pranking Mikey was a challenge, he knew how you worked and vice versa

You'd been brainstorming with April for weeks now, maybe a new perspective would help

That's what the two of you told yourselves anyways

Much to your dismay, Mikey and Casey had been plotting against you as well, the traitor.

And perhaps even more unfortunate was the fact that both of your pranks somehow overlapped and backfired on the rest of the family

Because Mikey and Casey may have replaced the family tea set with a edible sugar replica that looked identical to the original

So that when you were asked to make tea for Splinter and Leo it would dissolve the second you poured the hot tea

But they didn't tell anyone else so Leo was left with an impromptu anxiety attack when he made his own tea before sitting down to meditate and it melted into sugary leaf water

And you and April had planned the 'cutting off your finger in the kitchen' with the knife, fake finger, and fake blood

Which in theory should've worked because Mikey was in the kitchen the most, that was his territory

However once you'd started your plan you couldn't stop it

so when you 'cut your finger off' and screamed for Mikey you didn't have time to yell "wait it's a prank!" before Donnie caught a glimpse of the scene and fainted

In your defence you didn't know the purple turtle could move that fast

And to Mikey's relief he was going to throw that cutting board out anyways

Splinter explicitly banned the two of you from pranking each other after that incident

Donatello

Per your own common sense you had come to the conclusion that pranking the families resident genius was a horribly stupid idea

So for once, you'd practiced some self control and refrained from any pranks involving Donnie

Now that's not to say that the turtle vowed from aiming any pranks towards you

He had morals but messing with you walked the line separating adorable from batshit crazy

And he was all for it

April advised against it severely and even Splinter seemed to think it wasn't the best idea, but that was a lesson his son had to learn on his own

On the flip side, the second Casey heard about Donnie's plan he was all for it

So when you came over for dinner they both had to hide their excited smiles as Casey passed you your spaghetti

He knew it was your favorite

Everyone else was oblivious, which looking back on it was a very bad thing

April had her suspicions that Donnie was pulling something this evening, but she couldn't put her finger on it

That wasn't until you swirled a mouthful of noodles around your fork and shoved it into your mouth, you were starving

Here lies your predicament-

You swallowed thickly and blinked like you were in pain, your hand went to your throat and you reached for your water, ending up chugging almost the entire bottle.

Your eyes met Donnie's in a serious type of concern

"Is there hot sauce in this?"

April choked on her breadstick and quickly covered her mouth

Casey hadn't picked up on it yet

"Awh yeah- how'd you figure it out so quickly?"

You erupted in a coughing fit that sent April rushing to your side before you could tumble to the floor

"You fucking assholes! Y/N has a capsaicin allergy! Casey go start the car we need to get them to the hospital!"

On the bright side you were fine after you were rushed to the ER

But you didn't speak to Donnie or Casey for two weeks following the accident

You eventually forgave them for it and they haven't targeted you since

Sorry if it got a little dark at the end, but I felt like it was more realistic. Also that has actually happened to me but it was a nut allergy (and that's how I found out I was allergic to cashews) But I feel like the ending was a good example of how pranking someone can go horribly wrong, you should always consider the possibilities before doing something that could cause harm to a person. (Unless they really really deserve it)

I really enjoyed writing this one and I hope you guys like it as much as I do! 😁🧡👍

-Mars 🌠

#tmnt x reader #tmnt raphael #tmnt leonardo #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt vern #prankwars #tmnt headcanons #tmnt bayverse #bayverse donatello #writing requests

[limitlessgojo]

Blood Bound: Blackened Bond (Ch 14)

Warnings: Action, Coarse Language, Fighting, Descriptions of Blood

Previous SFW Chapter: Home Sweet Home

Previous Chapter NSFW!: The More You Know

Next Chapter: Shadows Fall

Tags: Soulmates AU, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fem!Reader

Taglist: @lessie-oxj @rizzo-nero @whoreuc @fkngkumiko @isl3t @gojoussunglasses @onepotatostand-blog @s-t-f-u-b-i-t-c-h @sunaswife @lordguameow @track5enthusiast

Notes: If you want to be tagged for every update, and specify if you're okay with NSFW posts or not, please mention it in the comments below ty ❤

Extra Notes: This is my favorite chapter by far in this book, I've been wanting to drop this for weeks! I hope you enjoy reading. Part 2 of the story starts from here on until the end. Feel free to scream in the comments as usual XD

Chapter 14: Big White Lies

As the days passed by, the seasons changed. You started class in Spring. Summer has long passed and it is now the beginning of Winter. Noritoshi, as usual, was really busy so you didn’t see him as often. But you let it go.

You wanted to do something nice for him, so you had the idea to surprise Noritoshi. Having some cupcakes in a small bag and a fresh cup of coffee in your other hand, you were outside his door, hiding your presence and cursed energy to mask your identity.

As you raised your hand to knock on his door, you heard a second male voice.

"I'm glad to hear that you've been getting along with your soulmate son." His father's voice was heard over a speaker. Oh he was on call with his dad!

Yikes, not the best time to interrupt. It is impolite to listen into the conversation, but you were too excited to surprise him that you decided to wait for the call to end.

"Is Y/N really deeply in love with you? Make sure to not let her go. That will surely help our clan's reputation rise above with her skills being integrated into ours. She can definitely bear strong heirs for our clan. For centuries it was the Zenins that harnessed various types of jujutsu shi with strong techniques. It's time we continuously expanded ours as well. Starting with her." The Kamo clan head sternly ordered his son.

'Huh?'

"Yes of course father. Don't worry. She has already confessed her love to me so there's nothing to worry about. I'll do my best to make this clan proud and powerful. I definitely won’t let you down." Noritoshi replied.

The smile on your face slowly faded as your face turned to stone. Ah. Was that it?

Is that what you amounted to only? A tool for their use. A stepping stone for the Kamo clan to get stronger. You started to feel nauseous. Is this the so-called secret he didn’t want to tell you about…

You stood quietly as you continued eavesdropping.

"Excellent. Heh, looks like you can actually be a womaniser if you wanted to. Women are way too easy. As I told you before, give her sweet touches, use pet names, give her lots of encouragement and make promises here and there and they'll be by your side before you know it." His father snorted.

"Yes, I've taken your advice into consideration and did as you said." Noritoshi spoke firmly. Your heart was breaking with every word spoken.

"If you don't like her or how she looks, you can have several concubines and wives anyways. Have your pick. Remember Homura chan? Now she's a stunner. Didn’t you also say you found her cute?"

‘What on earth is this? Who is Homura? Why?’ Your hands start shaking badly, pulse thundering in your ears.

You felt light headed from the brutish words the Kamo clan head was saying, and silently retreated, not wanting to hear Noritoshi's response to his father. Keeping your presence and cursed energy hidden and as minuscule as possible while you walked back to your dorm room.

Because you had left you didn't hear the remainder of the conversation.

"Father, I respect that the older clan heads had several wives and concubines. And I’ve told you time and time again that I’m not interested in Homura san. But I've decided to be loyal to my one true soulmate. I think I am falling in love with her as well, and can't bear to see her hurt. I won't be taking in any concubines." Noritoshi politely replied.

It was the first time he had spoken about his true feelings out loud and he felt vulnerable. He braced himself for any harsh words from his father but none came.

His father only raised an eyebrow. "Suit yourself. The fact is, even if she doesn't give birth to an heir with the inherited Blood Manipulation, she is more than enough of an additional asset to our clan. And it ties us together with the Abe/Tsuchimikado clan as you know."

Clan politics. Noritoshi is getting more and more sick of it every day, but he just silently nodded. As long as he has you and his mother by his side, nothing else matters. "Yes I understand father."

Noritoshi hated talking about his family with you, because of this exact reason. He didn’t want you to be disgusted by this side of their family and get pulled into their family problems. The worst thing would be for you to have a terrible first impression of the Kamo clan.

He understood that you already had a lot on your plate as your missions grew harder and harder. You were often assigned to grade 1 missions alone already. The worst case was for you to get roped into doing messy tasks to please the clan elders.

◇◇◇

You paced around your room, staring at the cupcakes and coffee on your desk. They were getting cold.

Cold. That's how you felt inside and out. You had to confront him. Or else your relationship will just drag you down. You definitely didn't want him to have any concubines. Didn’t want to have a partner who didn’t love you after all.

You were so lost in your emotions that you didn’t realize you were jumping to several conclusions on your own without considering Noritoshi's feelings for you properly.

'But it was starting to make sense' Your mind was screaming at yourself. 'He never explicitly confessed his feelings. He does indeed give me mixed signals from time to time. He shuts me out of private matters to him. He could be using me.’

The one question that was breaking you apart now is: "Was everything a lie? How much of his actions were sincere? He could lie about anything. To get power, that's something the big 3 clans are capable of doing. Satoru told me of some of the horrors already…"

The doubt and feelings of betrayal piled up, until you came to one conclusion: You’ve had enough.

◇◇◇

The next day, you suppressed all your emotions and distracted yourself. You tried your best to act normal around Noritoshi, smiling brightly at him.

It wasn't too effective. Everytime he called you his angel, instead of the delight you usually feel, you felt hurt thinking he was forcing himself to do this.

This can't go on forever. And eventually Noritoshi could start to feel the pain in your heart on his end as well. He hurried to you one afternoon after class, dragging you out to the plum tree away from the buildings.

You looked up at Noritoshi. As handsome as ever. Gentle and concerned (lies), with a strong hand reaching to cup your face (lies lies), speaking so carefully, "My angel, how are you? Why are you troubled? Have I done something to offend you?" (Lies, it was all lies).

He must be lying. Must have been since day 1. The way your brain just jumped to the most terrible scenarios in which he never liked you. There's no other reason. Your breathing quickened.

Both of you were still in the first stage of the soulmate bonding; therefore, you couldn’t share all emotions yet. Just urgent and strong random flashes of it, especially negative emotions. This is why both of you weren’t able to feel the love the other has through the bond yet.

You stopped smiling.

"I overheard your conversation with your father. I'm sorry for eavesdropping, but I had a present for you that I wanted to give you yesterday, so I waited outside your room. But that doesn't really matter anymore." You said, cooly shrugging off the hand on your face.

He stiffened, whole body tensing. 'No it was going so well with you, this can't be happening.' He thought to himself.

"Y/n I can explain-"

"Did you even feel anything for me? Besides our red string of Fate appearing?"

The marks on your wrists flowed in warning, searing hot pain flashed across both of you. But you ignored it. The devil on your shoulder pushing you to break things with him.

"Tell me the words you and your father spoke about yesterday were a lie." You begged him.

He couldn't say it was, because the conversation yesterday was only filled with truths. He was so confused, so he stayed silent.

You laughed at him without any real meaning or humor. The light had gone out of your eyes. Noritoshi felt himself shiver at the sound of it.

"So it was all true. Did you like me for me? Or because I'm your so-called soulmate whom you forced yourself to “love”- pshhh not even love, probably to tolerate, for the sake of power?"

Noritoshi’s head felt unfocused and his palms were sweating.

“I’m just a fucking game to you huh Kamo?!” You were freely crying now. He winced at the use of his family name.

Noritoshi found that he couldn’t breathe properly, much less reply to you. He had never seen you like this. What’s worse is your intense fear, sorrow, and disgust towards him was radiating so strongly through your bond.

“No you’re not.” He could hardly get the words out with how hard he’s breathing. It actually felt like the red strings were tying themselves around his neck. You scoffed at him unbelievingly.

He trembled as he lifted both hands to cup your face, but you stepped out of his reach. His hands dropped.

"You liar. I don't want this. If you just want to use me for my body, and to use me for your gain and for your family's benefit only to toss me aside for other women, then I don't want it." You spoke hoarsely. Your entire body was stiff, hands cold and voice quivering.

Your bond was hanging by a thread. The emotions of pain and betrayal bleeding over and muddling the delicate bond.

"I'm out. Go find some other bitch to breed for your sake of your precious heirs. I don't care if we are a fated pair. If you don't wanna put even an ounce of trust and honesty into our relationship then just fuck off." You turned around and walked away.

"Wait, no I-" Noritoshi gasped out as he snapped out of his shock, but you didn't turn back. You walked faster trying to ignore the voice you loved hearing so much.

Even if it hurts to break apart from him now, it is better than to have your heart broken again and again by staying with him.

"Y/n I do care about you. I do think of you everyday. You’re not a game to me. Didn't you hear what I said yesterday?" He called out desperately, stepping forward.

You ignored him, digging your nails into the palms of your hands at the pain from your soulbond falling apart. 'I won't be fooled any longer'.

Your bond was screaming at you to turn around and believe him. To believe that everything you've felt with him these past few weeks were real. That he truly loved you.

"Listen to me!" Noritoshi cried out.

You halted in your tracks. "I'm nothing to you. If you want to have other women as your concubines, go ahead. I know you can pick up as many women as you want with your standing. You clearly don’t need me. So I don't need you." Your last 4 words are a harsh slap to his face.

Snap. And your bond was left barely hanging with the smallest red thread that stubbornly refused to let go. But the damage was done. He couldn't feel your emotions anymore as his head filled with white noise.

Panic overcame Noritoshi like never before. This wasn’t like his normal self. He didn’t let himself think about anything else, but to run and pull you back in his arms.

Until he was physically stopped by an invisible barrier. Your solid air barrier that blocks all sound and forms of matter on the other side, keeping him away from you.

“No, no, no, no. Y/n Come back! I’m sorry! Speak to me!” He cried, furiously pounding at the invisible wall between the both of you. But you couldn’t hear him, much less know how he is feeling. After all, you’ve ended it with him already.

After you left, he remained rooted to his spot. His forehead leaning against the barrier, tears streaming down his face, as he stared at the place where he saw your figure disappear. It wasn't long ago that he had just fallen in love with you.

Your warmth, your laughter, the touches you give to him. Now everything felt so cold. "But I need you." He whispered out, sounding so broken.

The last few wilted leaves of the plum tree fell, leaving it bare to the cold winter. He remembered the words in the soulmate records of the Gojo Clan. “A soulbond can be rejected.”

Maybe he should have told you everything from the beginning and not hold back any secrets. He was terrified that your opinion of him would change, if you found out about his background and his mother. So he wanted to slowly ease you into the Kamo clan.

This was the worst.

As the sky grew dark, he went back into his room and for the first time, didn't bother studying. Just went straight to sleep.

What he wouldn't give to feel anything from your end. Even if it was anger or hatred, it would be better than this empty feeling.

Author's Notes: This chapter was the first chapter I've written before all others and is how Blood Bound came to be. You could say this is the core of the story, since it's the origin. Just had an angsty afternoon one day and chose violence🥰🤧

Blood Bound: Table of Contents

#kamo noritoshi #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk fanfiction #noritoshi x reader #noritoshi x o/c #noritoshi x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x o/c #jjk x you #angst #fluff #blood bound #jjk angst #blackened bond

[justimajin]

Til Death Do Us Part♜Pt.11

➟ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

➟ Genre: Angst & Fluff

↳ (6.8k), Arranged Marriage AU

➟ Summary: If someone told you that you’d be marrying the Kim Namjoon, you would think you were being lied to, or worse, that you were hallucinating. However, fate seems to have it’s own ways of making the impossible possible and before you even know it, the title of Mrs. Kim is bestowed onto you. There’s just one problem: you’re not sure if Kim Namjoon is the person he says he is and the truth of your own identity is dangling by the strength of a mere thread.

➟ Warnings: 18+ rating, graphic descriptions of violence, blood and death, character death

➟ A/N: This is the final part! Thank you all for reading this series and for giving it so much love <3

gif credit.

➟ Full Series: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10[M] Part 11

“You saw someone outside the house last night?” 

Seokjin’s arms are crossed, wide eyes swaying from you to Namjoon. 

You nod in response, “The way they were dressed, it really blended them into their surroundings. I thought maybe the lack of sleep was playing with me, but then Namjoon saw it too…” 

You peer over at your husband, who hums. “We couldn’t find them afterwards.” 

Seokjin shakes his head, appearing to still be caught within bafflement. Jimin suddenly emerges, his eyes drinking in the distress in the room. 

“I’m assuming there’s no good news?” He wonders, and Namjoon turns, raising an eyebrow in his direction. 

“Nothing?” 

“Nothing.” He sighs, roughly running a hand through his locks, “He keeps saying it over and over again, that we’re fools to think he’s pulling the strings…” 

Namjoon lets out a deep exhale, back sinking against the wall. That’s when he catches it, a sharp glint residing behind Seokjin’s glasses. 

“What?” He immediately asks as the man raises his head, shaking his head. 

“He wasn’t too forthcoming with me either, but….” His eyes suddenly sway and Namjoon follows the gesture, “He seems to really hate you.” 

You stare at Seokjin wide-eyed. 

Before you have a chance to retaliate, he beats you to it. “I’m not saying that it’s because of you per say, but more so because of your lineage….” 

“Being a L/N?” Jimin ponders, and Seokjin hums, furrowing his brows. 

“It seems he wasn’t quite happy with your marriage to Namjoon and from the looks of it, Taehyung wasn’t either.” 

Although you can somewhat grasp what Seokjin is implying, his next question catches you off guard. 

“How was Yonghwa killed, Y/N?” 

Your mouth opens and closes from the straightforwardness, but you can see Seokjin’s gears turning, so you ultimately decide not to hesitate. 

The history of your families is known to many. Trade and manufacturing seeking to forge a union between their two sectors. Yonghwa and Namjung were supposed to go through with the deal, but all hell broke loose on the fateful day when Yonghwa was found on the ground in a pool of his own blood with Namjung being visibly shaken. Revenge was rampant between the two families, your marriage to Namjoon ultimately becoming the peace offering to end years of hatred. 

“Yonghwa was murdered.” You state in a monotone voice, as if told the story numerous times, “The day he and Namjung seeked a union, Yonghwa found out that the Kim’s were building weapons they hadn’t agreed upon.”

“Yonghwa therefore decided not to go through with the union, but was murdered by Namjung who wanted to cover up his tracks.” 

After you finish explaining, your eyes drift up. Namjoon is staring at you in disbelief, orbs oscillating. 

“What is it?” You immediately ask. 

Seokjin relaxes his narrowed eyes and clears his throat, “Yonghwa was killed...but not at the hands of Namjung.” 

Namjoon continues, “The L/N’s were involved in illegal exchange through their trades, and Namjung found out during the time he was making a deal with Yonghwa. He attempted to reason with Yonghwa, but he was held at gunpoint.” 

“Through the scuffle they had, Yonghwa ended up accidentally shooting himself.” Jimin finishes, confusion drawing from your eyes. 

“W-What?” Your eyes glance at the two of them frantically, “But there’s no way, Yonghwa was found in a pool of his own blood.” 

“And Namjung was left shaken.” Namjoon adds, “He meant to forge a union, not kill the head.” 

“That’s‒….” You shake your head, utterly lost from the conclusion. It seems too foreign to you, like someone has erased years of history from your book and shoved something else in instead.

A thought lingers in your mind and your eyes snap up, gazing at Seokjin, “Why are you asking me about Yonghwa?” 

Namjoon glances up at him as well, confused from the inquires. Seokjin smiles, crossing his arms. 

“I have a hunch that I need to confirm,” He eyes you, “‒and what if I said that the two of you are telling the truth?” 

You and Namjoon share a glance, the latter speaking, “How so?” 

“Yonghwa was killed. This is the one point in your stories that stays constant,” He begins, “But the part where your stories diverge is the reasoning behind his demise.” 

“Y/N said the Kim’s were building weapons that Yonghwa didn’t agree with, and Namjoon said that Namjung found out about the L/N’s illegal activities. This led to both parties disagreeing with each other, and it wouldn't be so surprising for a fight to ensue, with both taking rightful actions to prevent themselves any harm.” 

“Yonghwa was prepared to kill Namjung at the cost of saving his business while Namjung needed to get rid of Yonghwa’s knowledge.” 

Seokjin pauses for a moment as you and Namjoon nod in response. His smile widens, curling at the corner of his lips. 

“Now the reason why I brought this up.” He clears his throat, a playful look in his eyes, “The moral of this story is that there seems to be no victor and no loser. Both families were involved in things they shouldn’t have been and were prepared to take lethal actions to protect that information, even to the extent of making the other family look historically bad in comparison.” 

Your eyes widen and Seokjin asks the question that has you stumbling for an answer. 

“So why the need for a union?” He wonders, “What was the point for such a union, when both families were already so against each other to the extent of making up false tales?” 

“Why look for peace when there’s no room for it to begin with?” Namjoon replies, and Seokjin nods. 

“Your company’s visible shareholders seem to despise the fact that you married Y/N, and I’m sure other members of the company weren’t thrilled from hearing about her lineage.” He honestly professes, “So why would they suddenly be okay with you marrying a L/N for the sake of a union?” 

“It would have to do something other than their hatred for each other….” Namjoon mumbles, squinting his eyes, “Something important enough that they would purposely need a marriage between me and Y/N.” 

Seokjin hums and Jimin abruptly sputters out an answer. 

“Something like a liability!” 

Namjoon glances at him appalled and he hurriedly rambles before he loses the thought, “Going based off of Seokjin’s theory, Namjoon would be wedded to a L/N, someone who would have created stained connections with her own family because of the marriage and be resented by members of the Kim family.” 

Jimin huffs, “Essentially she would be nothing but a liability to Namjoon’s title as the next heir…..” 

Three sets of eyes stare at him in bewilderment, and Jimin sheepishly smiles from the attention. Seokjin’s pupils light up again, a spark residing within them. 

“But who would benefit from all this?” He mumbles, “Who would benefit most from seeing you fail, Namjoon?” 

Namjoon stares at Seokjin as silence reigns heavy in the room, no clear answer forming within his mind. 

Your lids slowly flutter open. 

The entire room is dark and murky, night long having fallen within a couple of hours. You had long spent hours conversing with the others about Hoseok before ultimately deciding to question him more the next day, with Namjoon coaxing you that all of you weren’t far from understanding his intent. 

Yet your eyes squint through the dark, peering around the room in confusion. There’s sounds of feet shuffling against the hardwood of the floors, faint voices growing louder and louder with their shouting, some tinged with urgency while others not being able to fathom disbelief. 

It doesn’t take long for you to immediately reach for Namjoon, jostling him awake. Once he’s conscious, the two of you are scrambling out of the sheets in an instant, his hand wrapping around yours as you head towards the commotion. 

His backside suddenly halts, freezing in place. 

You catch onto the scent right away. 

It’s putrid and familiar….too familiar. 

Shifting forward, horror sinks into your eyes at the source.

Hoseok’s form is slumped against the front door, eyes lulled back and red soaking the outskirts of his clothes. A trail of scarlet follows him, leading up into the torn apart room he was residing in. 

***

Silence lingers uncomfortably long in the room. 

It’s stifling, tension feeling heavy on your shoulders and muting your words. Slightly fumbling with your hands, your eyes flicker up for the briefest of moments. 

Seokjin is against the wall, arms crossed against the blood stains that litter his torso. He stands opposite from where you and Namjoon are seated, adjacent from where Jimin leans against a table, in a similar condition as his hand balances against his cheek. 

Hoseok’s corpse has been removed, but you wrenched your eyes away from the multiple gash wounds that littered his torso, the overwhelming scent of blood bringing a rise of nausea to surface from your lips. 

Jimin is the first to clear his throat, peering over at you and Namjoon. “You were right, there was someone roaming outside.” 

“He was silenced.” Seokjin sighs, unraveling his arms and placing his hands in his pocket. You catch the slightest hint of remorse in his features, wondering if he was too late in arriving at the incident.  

Jimin shakes his head, “But why….?” 

“And why make it so brutal?” Namjoon’s deep voice cuts in, making Seokjin hum with a grimace. 

“This just proves that he knew something important….” You whisper. 

Seokjin hums, planting an exasperated hand against his temples. Although somewhat cruel, you understand his frustration. 

Hoseok was the only link in finding out who wanted Namjoon killed and sought out for your marriage, and now that he’s gone, you’ve hit a complete dead end. 

There’s a soft knock against the door that results in all of your eyes hiking up. Jimin steps forward, gesturing for you to be at ease as he answers. 

As the door closes, Jimin abruptly blinks, before snapping his eyes up. 

“Namjoon.” 

He stands up right away and Seokjin curiously leans over, “What is it?” 

“It’s a picture…” He states, “A picture of the weapon assumed to be used on Hoseok….”

Seokjin suddenly leans even closer, carefully plucking it out of Jimin’s fingers. He holds the same astonished expression, eyes flickering over in Namjoon’s direction. 

“I think we know who was after you, Namjoon…” 

The picture is passed over to him and you sweep your irises over it too. It’s a simple picture of a knife, but it’s one that has your eyes narrowing. 

“I’ve seen this knife before…” You whisper, mind scattering around for an answer. The intricate details and the curved edge seemed far too familiar, but you can’t wrap your finger on it. 

Your eyes flicker, recognition suddenly dawning upon you. 

“Taehyung!” You snap your fingers, recalling the time he attempted to take your life, “That’s the knife Taehyung had....” 

“It’s a custom knife.” Namjoon states, his gaze steadily hardening, “Only a few were manufactured by the Kim’s.” 

Your eyes threaten to fall out from their sockets. Your gaze oscillates from Namjoon to Jimin and then Seokjin, realizing they’ve already connected all the dots.  

“H-How does this make sense?” You shake your head, “That would mean that someone from your family i-is trying to….” 

Namjoon hums, gaze connecting with your own. There’s something unsettling brewing in his orbs, a fine line between anguish and pure rage. 

“I now understand why Hoseok decided to keep quiet.” He grits, “And why we haven’t been safe here.”

***

Your footsteps are hectic, nearly sprinting through the walls. Your hands shove against your bedroom’s door, eyes falling upon your husband’s turned back right away. 

The sound of a gun cocking has your eyes widening and you immediately scramble forward, hand wrapping around his shoulder. 

“Namjoon.” You softly call out. His brows are still intensely furrowed and jaw tensed, his gaze focused on filling the cartilage to the handgun til it’s stuffed to the brim. 

Concern drips from your stare, and you shake his shoulder again, voice firmer, “Namjoon.” 

He spins around, rummaging through his bag for another gun. You huff, grasping onto him and knocking the weapon out of his hands. 

You force him to look at you. “Namjoon!” 

“What?!” He sharply snarls, but you are unfazed. It’s obvious to you ‒ the way his form is seething with anger, the way his hands tremble as he shoves bullets into his gun, the way there’s an inkling of pain residing within his irises, begging to release him from his torment. 

You don’t say anything, simply softly shake your head in response. Namjoon lets out a scoff, a strained laugh escaping his throat. 

Your arms loop around him, resting your head against his chest. 

“I’m a tool, Y/N.” His shoulders crumble down, “Just a tool.” 

“I know.” You whisper, noticing how his anger dissolves into anguish, his form no longer tensing underneath your hold. He raises his hands to embrace you back, breaths steadying. 

With a deep sigh, he breaks away from you, an appreciative smile looping on his lips. 

You return it, but a new voice draws your attention. 

“You won’t accomplish anything going there like this, Namjoon.” Seokjin leans against the doorframe as Jimin draws closer behind him. You assume they must have followed after you when Namjoon suddenly left the room in a fit of anger, declaring that he was leaving to settle things once and for all with his father. 

His father, who eventually decided that Namjoon wasn’t good enough to be the next heir, who wanted him to be wed to you, placing a heavy liability on his ties and waiting for him to crumble underneath the title so he could have a new heir. 

But he wasn’t able to anticipate that you would turn out to be a spy, and that Namjoon would refuse to leave you, fed up with being used solely for the family business. 

You sigh, keeping a gentle hand on his back. 

“We need to think this through.” Seokjin reminds. 

“But how?” Namjoon shakes his head, “I’ll constantly be in danger‒ all of you will be in danger.” 

He glances between you and Seokjin, with the latter humming, “You’re not wrong about that, but we have to play our cards right.” 

“So what‒” Namjoon jokes, “I should just wait to be killed first?” 

There’s a twinkle in Seokjin’s eyes, a smile widening all the way to his cheeks. 

The moon rises, casting a shadow against the isolated building’s walls. 

You carefully thread through the empty hallway, pacing back and forth. A gun remains strapped to your waist, hidden underneath your clothing as your alert eyes sweep through the vicinity. 

It’s a small building, one that is barely guarded and nearly hidden compared to the others. It carries two floors, one of which contains the norm of offices, only a mere handful of workers that rigorously work throughout the day, but the numbers dwell during the peak of the night, barely a hushed murmur coming across from the doors or walls. 

Namjoon has informed his father that you and him will be temporarily staying in the building for safety reasons after Hoseok’s incident, and that tonight is the night that you’ll be staying in the reclusive area. 

Prior to figuring out pieces of the puzzle, Seokjin had come up with the plan of making you and Namjoon come off as vulnerable, essentially luring his father into the building. Upon Namjoon’s slight persistence, he had suggested that the former confront him about the entire matter. 

You had thought it was risky, too risky in fact ‒ but when Seokjin and Namjoon had abruptly shared a glance through your discussion, you knew there was more to the story than they were letting on. 

Trusting them with the matter, you agreed with the notion and were assigned to guard the area under the pretense of Jimin’s suspicions. You couldn’t figure out who the woman was that Hoseok interacted with, so alongside with ensuring no one gets in, you have the task of keeping an eye out for any unwelcomed surprises. 

It’s dead silent and pitch dark, the majority of the light sources cut off. Your footsteps make no sound against the soft wood, long having trained yourself to go unheard in case you were caught as a spy. 

Your eyes continue to sweep around the area, looking around for movement. 

You suddenly freeze. 

Creak.

Head snapping up, you carefully press your ear against one of the doors in the hallway, listening in again. 

Creak.

Your eyes widen. 

Feet quietly gliding against the ground, you carefully peer into the room through the glass opening, noticing an open window and someone fumbling around with the walls. They seem to stumble as they do, almost seeming lost until you realize that the lack of light source makes it incredibly hard to see. 

Biting your lower lip, you shuffle closer to the door, carefully waiting. 

Light pours through the room. 

Your pupils enlarge, mouth falling agape. A smile curve on her lips as she reaches for the door, but you’re close enough to reach out for her by the time it yanks open. 

Your hand meets her shoulder. 

She jolts, a gasp escaping her lips as she swivels, the light illuminating her fear-stricken features. 

You innocently quirk your head to the side, brows knitting together. 

“Geongmin?”

“Y-Y/N!” She stammers, swallowing hard as if she had seen a ghost. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Although naively surprised, there’s a cutting edge to your tone, taking advantage of her terror. 

“I‒uh, my father!” She hastily says, as if nearly forgotten the answer, “H-He needed me to bring his forgotten briefcase back home.” 

For the briefest of moments, you narrow your eyes. 

You hum understandably, “I see….” 

Granting her a small smile that she hesitantly returns, you take a clueless step back, whirling around. 

You glance around, “I can offer you some help in finding it, if it’s somewhere nearby then‒” 

The sound of a trigger cocking halts your steps. 

Although your voice is laced with tender surprise, your expression says otherwise. “Geongmin?” 

“W-Where is he?” She sputters. You casually swivel around to face her, barely flinching at the gun that is inches away from your eyes. 

“Who is he?” You press forward. 

“My brother!” She nearly yells, your blank expression drawing more unease from her, “Where is he?!” 

A long exhale leaves your lips, “About that….” 

It happens within a flash. Your fist slams into her arm, a cry slipping from her lips and the gun dropping from her hands. You swoop it up in an instant, pinning her against the wall as she’s distracted from the pain. 

You tightly hold her hands within one of your hands, the other pointing the gun at the back of her head. 

Your fingers curve around the trigger, “What has he promised you?” 

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!” 

You angle the gun so that it presses lightly against her scalp, her entire form jolting from the action.

Your voice is firm as you ask again, “What has your father promised you, Geongmin?” 

Her breaths are ragged, “H-Heir! The title of h-heir!” 

Tilting your head to the side, you listen to her intently, “M-My father said Namjoon was weak! That he couldn’t handle being the next heir, especially after being married to someone like you!” 

Your shoulders slump down, a deep sigh leaving you. Although her declaration is vile, her words sound confusing, as if fear was taking over her mind completely. 

There’s suddenly a flicker in your eyes, recognition filling you. 

It’s a mere gamble, but you loosen your grip on her, taking a step back. She watches you in astonishment and you drop the gun to the ground, kicking it to the side and away from you. 

The fear doesn’t leave her form in the slightest. 

“Do you desire being the heir?” Your voice has become soft. 

“W-What?” Your question seems to confuse her even more, her mind spinning, “What kind of question is that?!” 

You pursue your lips, noticing how for someone that should desire to kill you, she doesn’t rush towards the fallen gun. 

“Do you want to inherit the business?” 

It’s almost like she wants to break into a fit, tell you that you’re wrong and that you’re merely some spy that’s in the way. 

But the words don’t manage to leave her. 

“What is it that you want to do, Geongmin?” You gently ponder. 

“Why are you asking me all these questions?!” She repeats, sounding frustrated beyond belief. Streaks of tears are streaming down her eyes, her hands trembling. 

A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips. 

“Because I know obligation when I see it.”

The confusion doesn’t leave her as you step over to pick up the gun again, handing it to her. 

“Here.” You merely say, looking at her puzzled gaze she sends at the weapon, “Finish the mission you were sent on.”

You stand back, right in her aim of fire. Although your expression is confident, you hope she doesn’t notice the faint tremble lodged within your hands, inches away from the gun submerged within your clothing. 

Her eyes are completely blown out, still swimming with confusion. It’s not long before she points it right at you, rage consuming her features in an instant. 

You stare right back at her. 

The gun never fires. 

It slips from her hands, crashing onto the ground as more tears pool from her eyes. 

“I-I c-can’t….” She weakly mumbles, shaking her head. A low sigh of relief leaves you before you bend down, picking up the fallen gun.

Your eyes flicker, “You regret killing him….don’t you?” 

She nods weakly, and a smile curls on your lips. 

“I’m glad you made this choice on your own, Geongmin.” 

You extend your hand towards her, granting her the chance to choose again. She stares at it for a moment, a million thoughts racing through her head. 

She reaches out, clasping onto it. 

Heavy footsteps pound into the room. 

The door is securely locked, before he treads closer, eyes narrowing. 

Namjoon sits in a large chair, his eyes focused onto the table before him. At the sound of footsteps he snaps up, a smirk curving on his lips. 

“Father.” He remarks, “I’m surprised to see you here.” 

His father doesn’t return his smile, simply humming in response. 

“Hoseok was killed recently. You need to be more careful from now on.” He snides, standing across from him, “Especially with that pesky spy living in your quarters.” 

“That is my wife you are speaking about.” Namjoon sharply interjects, voice no longer holding warmth. His father sends him a seething glare, reminding him of the time he declared he wasn’t going to get rid of you. 

“How long do you expect to keep her around? She’s a L/N, for all you know she could have dug around all of our secrets and exploited the information.” He hisses, planting his hands against Namjoon’s table, “She’ll be nothing but a burden to you in the future, you’ll be mocked by her lineage and she’ll destroy your business.”

Namjoon furrows his brows, an amused smile wanting to etch onto his lips. He’s aching to spew his knowledge about how his sister was likely pressured into taking over his space as heir, her mind filled with twisted information about the two of you by the person standing directly in front of him. 

But he keeps it together, intrigue swirling in his orbs instead, “Who would you think was attempting to take my life then? Y/N?” 

“Of course it’s her!” His father roars, “She’s been feeding her family information about us, and now she wants to take over the business by having you killed!” 

“Really?” 

His father stares at him like the simple question in itself was ridiculous. “You should have listened to me before and gotten rid of her.” 

“But my answer wouldn’t change.” He smiles, pressing his buttons further, “She was my wife then, and she is now. What will you do if I wish to stay married to her?” 

His smile doesn’t waver. It seems to do the trick, his father’s face colouring into a shade of red at his son’s stubbornness and only serving to heighten his fear. The notion should fuel his need to get rid of Namjoon, to realize that the son sitting before him isn’t made out to be the tool that he’s always wanted. 

Namjoon’s smile barely moves, even when a gun is pointed in his direction. 

“Then this will be farewell.” 

Two guns aim for him on either side. 

In an instant, his father’s eyes widen. Namjoon continues to smile, watching Seokjin and Jimin step closer. 

Rising from his seat, he clears his throat. 

“I’m not a pawn, father.” He states, “I have my own wishes, and they won’t always line up with my role as heir.” 

He shakes his head, “The hatred between us and the L/N’s is just two families blaming each other to cover up their own tracks, and should have ended ages ago, even before I married Y/N.” 

He walks over to where his father glares at him, “Now it’s time you make a decision too.” 

Namjoon raises his arm as Jimin hands him a computer and Seokjin brings a chair, planting his father down onto it. Opening the screen right in front of the man, his eyes are met with a list of endless codes, but what’s most prominent are the ones that would surely infiltrate into an extensive database. 

His father’s eyes hold terror in them, “This is….” 

“The company.” Namjoon finishes, pointing to the screen, “These codes are functional on many bases and can hack into anything, even something as highly secured as the company’s database.” 

“You’re going to destroy everything.” 

Namjoon’s eyes twinkle, “I’m going to destroy what’s left of it.” 

“You’re insane.” His father snarls, “You’re going to ruin the Kim empire and throw away this goldmine for what?!” 

“My freedom.” Namjoon simply replies, his dark eyes pushing the computer closer to him.  

His father’s face is an angry shade of scarlet, but as metal presses further into his skull, his fingers press against the keys and allow the authorization. At the sight of the last code unlocking, Namjoon’s shoulders visibly relax, an exhale of relief leaving him. 

Seokjin quickly takes it away, packing away the computer into a bag before peering at Namjoon. 

They share the same thought, “We need to find Y/N.” 

Namjoon hums, preparing to leave the area as fast as possible. 

However, he doesn’t notice how his father’s face twitches at the mere mention of you, eyes boring daggers into his son’s skull. 

Namjoon turns and it happens within a flash. 

Jimin is on the ground, scarlet hands clutching onto his leg as a gun is pointed in Namjoon’s direction. Seokjin’s eyes widen in an instant, but he’s too late when multiple bullets are fired, all lodging into Namjoon’s chest. 

There’s no way to describe the terror that strikes you. 

Tears unconsciously roll down your features, a hard knot constricting around your throat. You can only watch in horror as a staggering Jimin and Seokjin huff, dragging Namjoon’s limp form onto a bed. 

Streams of red are dripping down his black suit, three pieces of metal embedded within his chest. Your trembling hands come closer, noticing that he was luckily still breathing. 

“His lungs haven’t been damaged.” Jimin doesn’t hesitate to speak as you peer up at him, “We’re going to need to take the bullets out.” 

Seokjin quickly filters around the room, searching for supplies as Jimin leans against the bed. You notice the trail of blood beneath his legs, eyes widening. 

“Jimin, you’re‒” 

He simply shakes his head, gesturing towards Namjoon first. You hesitantly nod, taking a couple of steps back as Seokjin returns. 

A shaky exhale leaves your lips when Seokjin opens up Namjoon’s shirt, your quivering hands coming up to cover your mouth as you spin away from the sight. 

“Y/N…” Jimin’s gentle voice beckons, but you can’t seem to look behind you. “Y/N, why don’t you wait outside?” 

Although concern is flooding through every fiber of your form, you solemnly nod without hesitation. 

Exiting the room at once, you attempt to calm yourself down, eyes flickering up to see Geongmin staring at you with a troubled gaze. 

She sits with you throughout the silence, your mind completely numbing from the recent events. 

***

Over the course of the next few days, you are dangling between concern and worry. 

You’ve been residing within the Kim household in the duration and haven’t spoken to yet even seen Namjoon during that time. Although relieved that his wounds weren’t fatal, you were told that he was still unconscious and that healing from them would take considerable time. 

In the meanwhile, Seokjin and Jimin had informed you that the person responsible for his state was his father. After getting rid of the remains from the company, something Namjoon had always planned to do, his father had shot Jimin and intended to kill Namjoon. 

In response, Seokjin was forced to take immediate action. 

You took in the news with a bitter taste in your mouth, but were glad to see Jimin slowly recover from the incident. 

Upon returning and being in the household that you and Namjoon had eventually abandoned, you were confronted with the presence of his mother. At first, you were unsure of what to say, not comprehending if she knew about the prior incidents, or if like Namjoon’s father, she held a deep scorn for the two of you. 

However to your surprise, she hadn’t seemed taken aback, instead appearing fatigued, dark circles beginning to round her eyes and creases maring her forehead. It made you think back to the first time you had met the women, her elegance and straightforwardness towards you always catching you off guard. 

She had asked you about how Namjoon was doing and you had given a simple direct response, but there was a sad smile on her lips, one that had made your chest tighten. 

“I don’t hate you, Y/N. If that’s what you’re thinking.” At your perplexment, she continued, “I think it was for the best to let go of the company...at least now we can move on from holding up this Empire with our lives.” 

She faintly chuckled as you remained next to her, silently listening.

A sigh leaves her, “I’m in pain not because of my husband’s death, but because I let it get to this point. To the point where I would have lost my entire family for a mere business.” 

She softly shook her head, “I’m tired, Y/N. I’m very tired of all this.”

Her words had echoed in your mind. She hadn’t spoken to you after that, but Geongmin had soon informed you that she had never seen her mother express so much remorse before. 

With the entire Kim Empire now gone, they were simply just a broken family left behind. 

The breeze blows against your hair, the flowers underneath your toes brushing against your skin. 

Night has fallen and for a considerable amount of tossing and turning, sleep hasn't welcomed you throughout the evening. You ultimately decided it would be best to get some fresh air, desperately needing to relieve some of the restlessness you were facing. 

The pale moonlight shines down on the bed of flowers, the wind whisking past you more crisp during the night. A warm smile tugs on the corner of your lips as you kneel down, gently touching the array of white, lilac purple and petal pink flowers beneath your feet. 

Running your fingers through the stems your hand halts, circling around a certain white flower. You pursue your lips, reaching out and cautiously wrapping your fingers around the base, squeezing it tightly for a moment. 

“I don’t think my mother will be fond of the idea that you stole one of her flowers.” 

You nearly jolt, breath hitching at the sudden voice behind you. That’s when your eyes enlarge, grip loosening immediately. 

Swiveling around, the astonishment doesn’t leave your form as you rise up onto your feet. 

Namjoon stands before you, leaning against a wall with a hand pressed against his chest. He sheepishly smiles when your eyes connect, briefly glancing at the ground for a moment before looking up. 

“You know, these flowers have a history of blooming in the seasons of‒oof!”

He doesn’t get a chance to enlighten you about his knowledge of the plants, your form crashing right against his as you wrap your arms around him. Namjoon lightly chuckles, pushing your strands back and slowly circling his arm around you. Your grip on him only tightens, a fact that he’s quick to remind you of. 

“Y/N.” He strains. 

You suddenly realize your husband had recently suffered having multiple bullets penetrate through his chest cavity. Immediately stepping back, a string of apologies tumble from your lips. 

“I-I’m so sorry!” He grimaces while holding onto the wounds, but still continues to smile at you. Your eyes are drawn to the thick strips of cloth wrapped around the area, tucked underneath the button-down shirt he had clumsily through on around his shoulders.

Your eyes suddenly narrow, “If I didn’t know any better, it would seem that you’re still healing‒…” 

Namjoon sheepishly smiles and your eyes widen. Before you can say anything, Namjoon steps forward and places a finger against his lips. 

“You need to go back.” You hurriedly coax, voice dropping down into a whisper. Namjoon continues to smile, not moving the slightest. 

You press your hands against him, slowly pushing him, “Namjoon, you need rest and‒” 

“I know.” He whispers, grasping onto your hands right away. “I came here to see you.” 

“You were worried...weren’t you?” You flush underneath his gaze, averting your eyes. His smile widens for a brief second, before it drops down and he leans closer to you. 

“Y/N.” 

You look up, eyes connecting with his. You’re taken aback with the stern appearance they take on, narrowing with intent. 

When he speaks, they’re of mere facts, “I’m conscious again, and I’m able to walk…..” 

You hum, not quite understanding what he was intending to say to you. “The company...I’m sure Seokjin and Jimin told you what I did.” 

“You destroyed it.” You state and he nods, “It’s gone now and the Kim’s don’t have any means of continuing on with their busine‒” 

Life flickers into your eyes and at the sight of recognition in your eyes, Namjoon solemnly smiles. 

“You want to leave….” You whisper and he hums. 

“It’s been on my mind ever since, I wanted to ask you in a better manner but given the circumstance…” He glances down at his injury. 

“The moment I woke up, I needed to talk to you about it.” 

“I see….” You mutter, staring down at the ground. Namjoon continues to gaze at you, concern in his eyes. 

At your silence, he ponders, “What are you thinking?” 

“I don’t know, truthfully.” You whisper, “It sounds….wonderful, incredible actually‒ but….” You stare at him, “Can we do that...? Have a fresh new start?”

For some reason, you almost want to laugh, “Are people like us even allowed to have something like that?”

“Maybe not.” Namjoon truthfully says, and you peer up, taken aback from the grim in his voice, “But I don’t see any harm in trying.” 

You silently stare at him. 

You’re not a spy anymore ‒ and Namjoon is no longer the heir. 

You’re finally free, no longer someone else's tools to use. You can be whoever and decide to do whatever you want, no family history dictating it for you anymore. 

The carefree thought brings a smile to your lips, and when you look up to see Namjoon softly smiling, you wonder if he’s pieced it together too. 

Without hesitation, you take Namjoon’s hand. 

Epilogue

The sun brightly shines in between the clouds, spreading across the expansive field. 

It reaches your skin as you bend down, a small basket in your hand as you rummage around for the potatoes you recall planting somewhere. 

There’s a faint rustle from behind you and you blink for a moment, turning around with narrowed eyes. You hear it again, but this time you can see two small legs running towards you. 

A tender smile spread across your features. 

The rustling abruptly cuts off, the sound of loud thud replacing it and low cries begin to echo out instead. 

You rush forward, the basket in your hands long abandoned. 

“Seokmin!” 

The young boy continues to cry, large tears leaving his wide eyes until you bend down, scooping him up into your arms. His cries subside a little by the action and you muse at his clumsiness, acknowledging that it was a particular trait he surely hadn’t gotten from you.

Namjoon emerges seconds later, planting his hands against his knees as deeply heaves.  

“I’m sorry, he was excited to see you and‒” He pants, drawing closer to see Seokmin tucked away in your embrace with dried streaks down his cheeks. “Is he alright?”

You nod, attempting to brush away the hair from the boy’s eyes. Namjoon reaches out and you hand him over, bending down to retrieve your basket. 

You look up to see Namjoon playfully poking one of his cheeks, your son squirming around his arms as small giggles leaves him. 

The display has a smile curving on your lips. 

There was a time when you dreamed about being happy, to live a life on your terms without being at someone’s beck and call, every decision being fueled by your own conscious thought rather than programmed and ingrained obligation. 

However, that’s all it ever was ‒ a dream, a mere fantasy tucked away in the corners of your mind that you had long forgotten about. Yet somehow in some way, you and Namjoon managed to fulfill it. 

It didn’t come to you all at once, a normal life being far from the reality you were uncomfortably close to. That type of life was something that never quite suited the two of you and as a result, you had your fair share of struggles. 

You can still remember the nights you had spent with vicious nightmares, old memories plaguing you and not letting you forget that you still had marks littering your body, your own two hands long having been tainted. It would make you question if you even deserved any of this, deserved to actually be content with what you have. 

You would like to say that the adjusting process was easier for Namjoon, but there were a handful of times where he would wake up in a cold sweat, his whole form quivering next to you. It was those days you truly learned about Namjoon’s past for the first time, of the things he did or more so, was forced to do. 

You started to wholeheartedly believe it, that this ‘life’ you wanted to build together could never be possible and that a part of you will always unconsciously remember times you wanted to forget. 

That was until your son was born. 

At first, it was a whirlwind. You hadn’t expected to get pregnant so soon and you weren’t sure of how Namjoon would react to the sudden news. Fortunately he was ecstatic once you told him and it granted you some sense of reassurance, but you could clearly see it within his warm eyes and you know he could see it reflected in yours. 

Was it even possible for people like the two of you to bring another life into the world? 

You had attempted to push that thought away as far as you could during the process and luckily when Seokmin was born, something had changed within you. 

“Y/N?” 

You blink, noticing Namjoon was staring at you with concern. Seokmin is looking over as well, appearing much better compared to when you found him. 

You shake your head with a soft smile. Leaning down, you redirect your gaze towards your son. 

It still astonishes you that aside from the eyes and the hair, he appears to be an exact replica of his father, “Are you feeling okay?” 

Your son nods, a spark lighting in his eyes. 

“Mom!” He excitedly says, “Dad said‒ Dad said you were a spy!” 

You stare at Namjoon wide-eyed, who looks at his son with the same expression. 

A low chuckle leaves you, “Um, he did…?” 

Namjoon puts Seokmin on the ground and gestures for him to continue playing, turning around to you. 

“Namjoon, we said we would wait.” You whisper. 

“I know‒” He squeezes his eyes shut, “It was just a slip of the tongue.” 

You stare at him for a moment, before letting out a sigh, “It’s alright...he’ll have to find out someday.” 

“Are you referring to the time we’ll give him the chance to choose his own last name?” 

Namjoon gazes at you amused and you share a smile with him. 

“You know, Seokjin and Jimin have been wanting to see him.” He reminds you, “They still can’t believe we named our son after them.” 

“Seokmin is a nice name.” Namjoon raises a brow like he doesn’t believe you and you laugh at his expression, “We should visit sometime soon, especially because….” 

You lean closer to him and Namjoon can only stare in confusion when you whisper in his ear. Immediately, he jolts back from you, staring at you in astonishment. 

“R-Really? Are you being serious?” You nod with a smile and Namjoon is brimming with ecstasy, “Y/N, that’s amazing!” 

You point a finger towards him, “But I want to name this one.”

Namjoon chuckles, pulling you into his embrace, “Of course.” 

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