#[ I'm sorry if I guessed very wrong at some point^^

[the-insouciant-scientist]

what are hyakinthos's thoughts on the boatman and the slow boat in general?

Ooh, taking a quick sidestep from the rest of the ask game asks to answer this real quick! Short answer: a little complicated but generally friendly! Long answer: Gotta give some backstory first, bear with me. I have been thinking so much about belief systems vs established canon. Canon says that every human who dies regardless of belief (there may be nuance I'm forgetting but I'm in full speed infodump mode rn so that's a problem for future me) goes to the Far Shore. I say that's... kinda bleak? Also I'm just not a fan of stories where there is only One Real Belief and the rest are played off as silly distraction or whatever, but I digress.

A lot of his everything is based around the idea that both belief and proper death/burial care are important to get people to the afterlife they're meant to be in. Ritual makes all the difference between going to the Far Shore vs the Fields of Asphodel, for example.

His Boatman is Charon, or at least accepts the name. Hyakinthos has a working relationship with him and has probably taken up the oars at least a few times, especially for people who need the extra care in getting to where they need to be.

There's respect there, but there's also a certain... I'm not sure I have the words for it. The idea that death in the Neath is uncertain in so many ways (whether it'll stick that time, whether the person will make it to their afterlife or if they'll slip between the cracks and end up in the wrong place, etc) can be... discomfiting, to him. So while he does hold the boatman in high regard, there's always some little uncertainty there.

(Every so often, by their standards at least, Hyakinthos will bring him a very old obol. The Boatman will always refuse it. This is a ritual of its own. They'll sit for a while and talk anyways, and then part ways afterwards a little lighter.)

[seaofreverie]

How weird it is to be at the funeral of a close relative and still feel like I'm not allowed to cry or grieve and that everyone deserves sympathy but me. Because you know, I've never been to a funeral before, so that only makes me lucky, because I didn't have to deal with something like this until I was almost 23 years old. But maybe that actually makes me not lucky because otherwise I would have had some idea how I should feel and how to process this. I feel like this just doesn't make me special in any way, everyone experiences this and I mostly ache for my dad and my grandma. And even then I've been dreading the day this happens for years and it was inevitable that it would happen, and my grandad was almost 90 years old and I wasn't even that close to him so I feel like I should just not think about it so that it doesn't feel real (because nothing feels real to me anyway these days). And even by posting about it here I feel like I'm just begging for sympathy when I don't deserve any. And I feel like most of my sadness now comes from how alone I feel in both this and just in every other sense and how I feel like this makes me a bad person because I don't feel about it all the way I'm supposed to be feeling

[sirfrogsworth]

I think in this new age of A.I. the general public is going to need to increase their photography and lighting literacy. The response to this photo has just been a shit show.

There are people pointing out perfectly normal edge lighting and misunderstanding how reflections work.

First the plane is parked at an angle. The tail is farther back than the nose. But also that is a curved surface and it tapers. It's reflecting the area to the right of the photo.

And the bottom of the plane is reflecting what is directly underneath. Which is the tarmac, not the crowd.

It should also be noted that photo was shot with a very telephoto lens and everything is super compressed. The crowd appears much closer to the airplane than they actually are.

But then someone who should have good understanding of lighting said this...

And now I'm worried for her clients. Because that's very... wrong.

Well, wrong-ish.

First, let's try to understand why this photo is setting off some alarm bells.

The crowd toward the rear is in shadow, but they are still very well exposed. But then there is also a bright light source creating a strong edge light on them. Looking at this photo with just the context of what is in it, there are some things that seem uncanny.

The information we do not have is the people in the shadow area are inside a very brightly lit airplane hangar.

So they have artificial light blasting them from the top.

But that light is still much dimmer than the sunlit areas outside so they appear in shade. But we are used to shade being much darker than areas in direct sun. So the balance seems off in our brain. We expect the people to be darker because we don't have the context of the bright hangar lights above them.

But the other issue is that the photo was post processed. It wasn't manipulated. The pixels weren't changed. But the exposure balance was altered.

If I were to guess, the original photo looked more like this...

But newer digital cameras can have 13 to 15 stops of dynamic range. And if you shoot in RAW, you can easily lift shadows and bring down highlights. You can balance the exposure so the dark parts aren't as dark and the bright parts aren't as bright. This photographer might have overdone it a bit in this case, but this is a fairly standard edit used to bring balance to photos.

And lastly, where does the edge light come from?

Edge lighting or backlighting or rim lighting (all the same) should probably be called wrap-around lighting if you want to be more accurate.

It comes from a homogenous light source that is larger than the subject being lit. So with my knife photo, I placed it on a large LED panel light.

The light source was bigger than the subject so it wrapped around the edges.

And I'm afraid the airplane is not nearly large enough to create a light source to wrap around everyone in the crowd. It isn't even reflecting direct sunlight. So I'm sorry to say that lighting designer was mostly mistaken despite the confidence.

The light source is... everything.

That entire red area I highlighted is the light source.

As well as everything above and everything to the sides.

And the biggest aspect of that light source would be the sky above. I think people always forget the sky is a light source. If you are seeing blue, you are seeing light. And I guess the plane is included in that, but that entire highlighted red area is so bright, and so filled with sunlight bouncing around, that it creates basically a giant softbox. It becomes a huge single light source for the people in the hangar.

If you look at footage taken from way inside the hangar, you can see the camera adjusting exposure for the crowd inside, but look at what happens to the sunlit area outside.

What does that look like?

A giant softbox.

A single homogenous light source blasting light inside the hangar.

The sun is so incredibly bright that even when it is not directly lighting something, the light just bouncing around outside is enough to overpower the very bright hangar lights.

So, what have we learned from this?

Perhaps people should hire me to be their lighting designer.

Though I'm sure she is actually very talented. She seems to work with stage lights and this is more physics and photography.

Phystography.

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Hello! I would like to make a request about Dae-Ho, a character I love. I would like the story to show how Dae-Ho and the reader develop a special connection during the games, despite being on opposite sides. She is part of Thanos' team, but they still interact frequently. On one of those nights, they kiss and promise to get to know each other better once it's all over. However, that promise is not fulfilled because she dies in the carousel game.

I hope this story fits the bill. Happy holidays! <3

Anything Is Possible?

KANG DAE-HO X READER

Summary- You are number 230's, rapper Choi Su-bong, sister. Just because you are on 'Thanos Team', does that mean you can Dae-Ho cant get together? Will you survive long enough?

Warnings- Squid Games, Angst, mentions of blood, murder, and death

A/N- I combined this ask with another anon request, "badass reader and daeho! maybe she is related to 100 and that's why the romance is kind of forbidden but she doesn't agree with his actions and thinks daeho is very cute. I would love a first kiss between the two, which she initiated and he was all embarrassed but really excited" I hope y'all don't mind, they were very similar!

Word Count- 4,605

"What is your problem!" You found yourself yelling at your brother. While this was not uncommon, the situation surely was. Thanos the rapper, or just known as Choi Su-bong to you, had pushed several people down on purpose. This killed them in the Red light, Green light game.

"You killed them!" You continued, though he did not seem to care.

"Look, as far as 'The Thanos' is concerned, each body means more cash for MOI!" He spoke, uncaring.

"Oh, and if it was me, would you let me get shot!" You crossed your arms, eyeing him up and down.

He looked around, checking for any guards. He then slipped out his cross form under his shirt. You knew he had some kind of drug in there.

"Look, if it will shut you up, you can have one. But keep your mouth closed!" He ushered his cross in your direction. You rolled your eyes.

"I'd like to at least be aware of my surrounding in a death defying game!" "Shhh, Shhhh!" His face scrunched up as he looked at you, offended. He thought someone might have been drawn to your choice words.

You scoffed and walked off, sitting on the edge of a bed to catch a train of thought.

With a puff, you pressed your head into your hands. Could you really go on like this? Risking your life? Then it hit you, your life was over either way. Loan sharks were bound to kill you the second you left... Might as well go out with a bang?

The gruesome thought lingered until you felt the bed sink next to you.

"Thanos, I don't want to-" You looked up to not see your brother. Instead a man with a '388' on his jacket.

"Well I'm not sure who 'Thanos' is, but are you doing okay?" He looked genuinely concerned.

You started at him for a second, "Like fifty people just died..."

He faltered, "W-well yeah... Obviously you aren't okay... I just, I saw you arguing with that guy... The one with purple hair." You sigh again at his response. Well, this might be the last conversation you ever have. Why not be an open book!

"That's my brother. He thinks since he got one hit song, he can boss anyone around." You again rolled your eyes at the thought of him.

"Oh... I see. I-I have three older sisters, I know how it can get." He said, trying to offer you some sort of condolence.

You gave a side smile at him, appreciative of his efforts. "Thanks... What got you into these games?" You figured there's no reason for 'proper exchanges.' What was the point anymore?

He seemed ashamed at the question. "Sorry, if it makes you feel any better- I'm about 30 million won in debt. Some online crypto coin my brother swindled me into. Lost big time." You explained.

He shook his head, "No, no, its fine. See, I was a marine. Couldn't find a job after I got out. Guess I just got carried away with the wrong people... Got into some bad loans."

You gave a sympathetic face. "That sucks..." He just nodded sheepishly.

A silence fell between you two, but it wasn't awkward or annoying. It just...was.

"Well, uh, which are you going to vote?" He asked like it had been on the tip of his tongue all day.

As the Guards had told us earlier, we would get a chance to vote before the next game. Stay or Go.

"My brother seems pretty adamant on staying... And I honestly don't think it would be smart to piss him off anymore. He's got me in his little clique already." You didn't really know which one you would have chosen if the vote was anonymous.

He nodded in understanding. "I mean, I don't have a groupie or anything. But, you could stick with me if you wanted."

Your heart fluttered. Looking up at him, you seemed to just notice how handsome he was... Then reality hit.

"I deeply appreciate that... But I think you might have better odds without me. Choi- uh Thanos, would probably do something to you... I don't really want to risk it, I'm sorry." You knew that you really did want to be on his team, but you also knew how your brother was.

He had a slight look of defeat on his face, "I get it. I feel confident about the next game. I mean, if they're all children games, how hard can it be? I'll vote the same as you."

You agreed, "Then, maybe I can talk to Thanos? See if he wants another member?" You smiled at him.

He opened his mouth to speak, happily, but the two of you were interrupted when the pink guards came back in. Letting everyone know it was time to vote.

"See ya on the other side." You said, standing up to rejoin Thanos. Plus his newly acquired group of 3.

"Yes ma'am!" He responded, giving a small salute. You just laughed as you glanced at him a last time.

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

"Are you crazy!" Thanos whisper-yelled at you, turning the two of you away from the group. "Are you tryna embarrass me in front of my boys!" He scolded you like a child. His arms and shoulders going up.

"It's not that big of a deal, he was a marine, he could be good for us." Thanos just "tsked' in response.

"No. We are already perfecto. No more room." He said as-a-matter-of-fact. His arms making an 'X.'

You turned and looked at the two men staring at you. "Thanos, there are four of us in total. What if the next game is five players!"

"Huh, and what if its four! Then I'd be pushing YOU out, Cause of ya mouth." He made faces at you, then laughed loudly. "I'm just joking sistah! I'd only do that if you really pissed me off.... We are sticking to four." His expression turned serious.

"Fine."

At a mere coincidence, you turned around and saw '388' staring at you. You mouthed a 'sorry' and shook your head. Signalling Thanos said 'no.'

He nodded, then smiled at you anyways. At that, you watched him walk over and sit with a group of 'X's.

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

The lights soon went out. You laid back in your bed, trying to get some kind of sleep. It was useless, especially when you heard a 'psst' right next to you.

You turned your head, playing cool, even though it did startle you a bit. "Shh, It's just me." The voice rang familiar, and when you squinted your eyes in the dark your made out number 388's face. He was on his knees, crouched down next to your bed.

"What are you doing!" You whispered at him, sitting up quickly. Thanos and his two members were just a bed away.

"Shhhh, I have something to tell you." He said, his hands were waving slightly, a nervous tick.

You eyed him, moving closer. "What?"

"One of the guys has played these before. He said he won the games...That he knows which one is next."

Your hands rise to rub sleep from your eyes, "Really? You think he's telling the truth?"

With a frantic nod he continues, "It was the guy who knew about the Red light, Green light. Number 456."

You looked down, "Why are you telling me this..." You questioned, unaware of any kind of unconditional kindness.

"I want you to survive, why else?" You locked eyes with him. They were honest and pure.

"Well, what's the next game?" You didn't know how to respond to such generosity. For all he knew you would stab him in the back. Not that you could bring yourself to, not after he snuck over to tell you.

"He said its Dalgona. Ya know, the game where you scratch out the candy shape?" You knew the game, having played it in your youth.

"Make sure you pick the Triangle. It's the easiest one." You nodded.

At that, a shuffle made both of you turn your head. Thanos moved in his sleep, rolling over. His eyes were closed, but he was now facing you.

"You better go, in case he wakes up." You warned, not wanting any drama.

His head shook in agreeance, he raised to walk off.

"Wait!" You whispered, he looked back. "What's your name?"

"Dae-Ho. Dae-ho Kang."

"Thank you, Dae-ho..." The corners of your face rose, almost grinning at yourself saying his name.

He gave a small wave of his hand, another salute. You suppressed a giggle, and laid back down. Sleep came easier this time...

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

"Welcome to your second game, this game will be played in teams. Please divide into teams of five in the next ten minutes."

You looked around, Dalgona was not a team game. Had Dae-Ho lied to you? No, why else would he sneak over in the middle of the night. It didn't make sense. Maybe 456 was lying?

"Should have listened to me, now we have to find another person." You remarked to your brother, smugly.

"Trust trust, my skeptic sister. Thanos has got this under control!" He spoke about himself, immediately levitating to the closest attractive women. You, once again, found yourself rolling your eyes.

"Señorita, excuse me?" You wanted to physically face palm at his attempt at a pickup line.

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

Quickly enough, time selection was up. Everyone was orderly sat in their groups. Conveniently, Dae-Ho and his group sat behind you.

"Dae-Ho." You called, moving to be in his range of sight.

"Ahh, hey!" He said, excitedly. His demeanor changing from skittish when he saw you.

"So, what happened to Dalgona?" You asked, not blaming him- just curious.

He gave an unsure face, equally as confused. "He said the games must not be the same. I'm sorry."

"What for?" You beamed, knowing it was not his fault.

He laughed, "I guess I don't know.."

You just shook your head humorously. "Which game are you going to do?"

"Uhmm, Gong-Gi... My sister's played it a lot, so I'm used to it."

"They've got me doing spinning top. I was never any good at Gong-Gi." You made a glance to Thanos, he was high out of his mind. You caught him slipping Nam-Gyu a pill. He didn't notice you talking to Dae-Ho.

"I wish you the best of luck!" He gave a quick bow of the head.

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

The game went smoothly enough. Though, it took much longer than Red light, Green light. Watching all of the teams go one at a time was excruciating.

A handful of words exchanged with Dae-Ho while waiting was calming, it grounded you. He had nothing to gain by helping you, he simply did. It was flattering.

You and Dae-Ho had figured out that his team was going last. It was nerve-wracking to think about him not making it. No one had ever effected you like this before...

Eventually your team went, suffering frequent verbal degration from Thanos and Nam-Gyu. Thankfully your team made it with 8 seconds to spare. Too close for your comfort.

The worst part came when you had to wait. You felt like you could hear a large clock ticking right by your ear.

Would Dae-Ho's team make it? You didn't doubt his Gong-Gi skills, but he was dependent on the skills of his team mates as well. It was terrifying to think they were shot with not enough time to complete the games.

You couldn't bare Thanos bantering, he complained about every survivor. It just made you more paranoid about Dae-Ho's possible death.

Trying to settle your mind, you stepped away from your group, preferring to sit by yourself on the edge on the steps. You picked at your nails, praying he would make it.

Minutes and minutes went by. No one had come out in a while. Was the game finished? Did they die?

Just as you were about to return to your brother hopeless, one last group appeared.

A gasp left you as you watched Dae-Ho's team emerge. You stood up, cheering with a handful of other players. Your hands were clasped gleefully In front of you.

Dae-Ho's gaze was fixed on you, he chuckled. His first raised in victory.

You gave him a salute back.

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

You managed to slip away from Thanos. He was too busy hitting on Se-Mi. You were grateful for her, it took some of the pressure and attention off of you. You had to remember to thank her later.

"Dae-Ho!" You called out, he turned around and stepped away from his group.

"You were amazing! You went 'Wooshhh' and got the top first try!" He was practically bouncing on his heels. He mimicked the process of spinning a top with his hands and body.

"Thank you, Thank you." You pretended like you were bowing to an applauding audience.

"How did Gong-Gi go?" You asked, antsy. He rubbed the back on his neck.

He grinned deep, "Would you believe me if I said I got it first try too?"

Your face lit up, "Really!"

"I swear it!" He placed a hand across his chest.

You gave a quick clap to him, "I knew you could do it!"

You felt like a schoolgirl again. Talking to Dae-Ho made you feel like a blushing bride. He was such a ray of light and hope for you.

"What do you think the next game is?" He questioned, taking a seat on a step by the large doors.

You thought for a second, "I don't know, Maybe some kind of mind game. Since the last two have been really physical."

He nodded, "Yeah, maybe, maybe. Thats smart thinking."

You joined him on the step facing him. While you were about to change the conversation, you overheard a few people talk about what they were voting next. It reminded you of the real life-or-death situation you were in.

"So, d'ya think you're going to change your vote?" You became more solemn.

"...Yeah, I just... The others have convinced me. I mean, truly, I shouldn't have voted 'stay' in the first place..." He looked down, almost as if he had disappointed you.

"Honestly, Dae-Ho... I want to leave too... But, but, what if I press 'leave', and we still have to continue the games. Then Thanos would be pissed, and deep down I need him. He's still my brother." You hated the fact, but you were scared of what Thanos would do.

Dae-Ho thought for a moment. He mumbled something you didn't quite catch. "What?" He stood up.

"I can protect you. Honest. With my life." Your breath hitched, you stood up as well.

You shook your head, a lump forming in your throat. "Oh Dae-Ho... That's just the thing. I can't have you risking your life. Not for me."

He gently lifted your hands into his. "You are worth risking my life for."

"Dae-Ho, you don't even know my name." Your voice quivered.

He nodded quick, "Then lets change that. What's your name." You bit your bottom lip before telling him.

"Now, I can defend you from Thanos. He won't do anything to do." He ended with your name, it sounded angelic coming from his mouth.

"I'm sorry... I just... can't." You let go of his hands, fully set on walking away. But, he stopped you. He grasped your shoulder.

"Please don't go. I'll stop talking about it, I swear." He pleaded. He truly just wanted to be with you, he was content with you.

And you were with him.

You closed your eyes, shook your head. You fought off any kind of objection. "Okay."

The two of you talked and talked, time ran past. You no longer seemed to worry about the games, just that you knew you wanted to stay with Dae-Ho.

Until, the large doors opened and the pink guards once again announced a vote.

You said a quick 'goodbye' to Dae-ho, hoping the games wouldn't continue. Even if you never saw him again, at least he would be alive.

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

Much to your dismay, the games would continue another round. The vote wasn't even close this time. It was almost relieving, knowing that your vote was not the determining factor.

Once again, the lights went out to signify the night. You noticed teams were huddling together for protection, taking shifts and keeping watch. It was getting more serious as each hour went by. You could not find rest, feeling extremely uneasy.

While you tried to find some sort of reassurance in Thanos, he was fast asleep. You decided to take your chance and go see Dae-Ho. Just as he had done for you.

You knew the general area where his group was, but couldn't make out specific people in the dark. Not from your distance.

You racked up the nerve to quietly shuffle over. Your socks helping to muffle any noise.

"Shh, someone is coming." You heard a man whisper, it was 456. You could see the large numbers next to the 'O' on his jacket.

"I-is Dae-Ho with you..." You ask, shakily.

"And what do you want with him?" A man next to 456 spoke, defensively.

"I- Hes my friend, I need to talk to him." You tried, fiddling with your fingers.

"Yeah, Sure he is. You're probably trying to get in and take one of us out, huh!" The man 390 rose, acting like he was ready to fight.

You stepped back, "No, really, I swear I'm not!"

You heard your name, a confused Dae-Ho crawled out from under a bed. "Dae-Ho, please tell them in not trying to kill any of you."

"What?" He was still weary from sleep, rubbing his eyes. Once he saw the position you and 390 were in, He quickly stepped between the two of you.

"No, No, she wouldn't do that. Really, whatever shes saying she's telling the truth." Dae-Ho came to your rescue.

"Can we talk Dae-Ho?" You stepped closer to him, both of your hands gently resting on his arm. He nodded rapidly, stepping away from his group.

The two of you found a cluster of abandoned beds, and sat on the floor between them

"Are you okay? Did someone hurt you?" He looked you over for any visible infliction's.

"No, no I'm fine..." You pulled your knees to your chest. "I just wanted to see you." You felt silly once it left your lips.

His face flushed beet red, you could even tell in the dark. His hair falling in his face made you reach a hand out and brush it back. "O-oh"

"You never told me what you think the next game is, Dae-Ho." You needed a distraction.

He shook his head, like he was getting some thoughts out. "I have no idea... I just hope its an easy one. Gi-Hun, uh 456, said that they've already played Tug-of-war, Marbles, and some kind of glass stepping game. So, uh, I would assume none of those would repeat."

"I'm glad I missed Tug-of-war... That would mean the number of survivors would be half..." You thought.

He changed the subject, beginning with your name. "What's wrong? I know you said you wanted to see me, but, I guess I don't understand why."

"Dae-Ho, I don't really know why either. I just, wanted to be with you. I feel safe with you. I feel like I'm alone anytime you walk away..." You blinked away a stray tear.

Dae-Ho was lost in thought, he had thought his feelings weren't reciprocated. Maybe they were after all?

He didn't have time to speak, because you have lounged yourself forward in a burst of confidence. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and pushed him to the floor. He was laid on his back with you on top of him, as you pressed a hard kiss to his lips.

His eyes widened, his body went rigid. When you pulled away to look at him, he stammered. "I-I, Uhm."

At his reaction you pulled away quickly, "I'm so sorry, I thought-"

"Can you please do that again." He was now giddy, a fat smile on his face. Excitement radiated out of him. "A-are you sure.. You seemed so..."

"No, no, you just caught me off guard, please, please kiss me again." He scrambled to a sit, hoping you would come closer again.

With a refound joy, you moved closer. This time you went slow, making sure to bask in the moment. You once again wrapped your arms around Dea-Ho's neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

"You're perfect.." He mumbled against your lips. Though, he felt something wet on his face. He pulled away, his eyes soft, "Whats wrong?"

You sniffled, "Promise me. Promise me, that after everything is over, that we will find each other." You asked, pressing your cheek against his.

"I swear it, I swear we will meet after the games." He leaned in for another kiss.

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

"Welcome to your third game. The game you will be playing is Mingle."

Okay, this one seemed safe. You had a large group, this can work. You tried to be positive, you had someone to look forward to after the game.

"Heyyy, we'll be mingling together. Doesn't that sound like so much fun?" Thanos went on, trying to hype everyone up. The only one who was just as high as him was Nam-Gyu. It worried you that he wasn't fully aware of his surroundings, but at least he wasn't on your tail about everything.

"Please step onto the center platform. When the game starts, the platform will begin to rotate, and you will hear a number. You must form groups of that size, go into the rooms, and close the door within 30 seconds."

You nodded, understanding the rules. Everyone gathered to the platform. You noticed groups staying together, huddling close.

While following Thanos, you passed Dae-Ho's group, you caught his eye and gave him a small salute. It seemed the two of you now had an inside joke.

"Let the game, begin."

At the jump and pull of the platform, you almost lost your balance. You reached a hand out and held onto your brother. He looked over at you, for a split second he actually seemed like your brother. He was there for you.

That's until a muffled snort came from Nam-Gyu. Thanos pushed your hand off, laughing at you.

You sighed and thought of a smart remark, but the platform stopped spinning and a 'Ten' rang out.

Thanos laughed loudly, "We needa four!!" He screamed, shaking his face all about.

"Were four!" A man yelled back, and Thanos took off running. Your eyes widened and you ran after him. "Run, Hurry!" You yelled at Se-Mi, who had stopped to grab Min-Su.

Luckily everyone had made it to the room, just as the door shut the timer went off. The door locked shut. You peaked out of the doors small slit. You didn't see Dae-Ho. A good sign.

Multiple gunshots rang out, each making your body jolt.

"Ha Ha! My family! We did it!" Thanos bantered, clapping some of the men on their backs.

When the doors finally opened again, you looked around. You looked and looked for Dae-Ho. Finally sighing in relief when you saw him. He ran over to you.

"You're okay, thank God!" He hugged you, you held him tight.

You swallowed hard, "It's not over yet. I'll find you after the next round!" You said, quickly finding Thanos again.

"Yeahhhh! Easyyy!" Him and Nam-Gyu joked back and forth. They started dancing to the music as the platform started rotating again.

'Four'

Thanos stopped and looked at his group for a minute. "Gyeong-su, you're with me!" He grabbed his hand, pulling him.

"Damn!" Nam-Gyu said, gripping your arm and pulling you. While you were happy to be chosen, you were worried for Min-su and Se-Mi.

"Lets goooo!" Thanos yelled once we were all in the room.

"Thanos what was that! Gyeong-su over me!" You pointed your finger at him.

"I swear I thought I was pulling you! Besides, you gotta stop running your mouth. You made it, you're fine!"

You couldn't believe what he was saying. Sure, he talked a lot about leaving you. But it was always just talk? Right?

The door opened once again, you were thankful to be away from Thanos. Your new objective was to find Dae-Ho now.

This time, the second you saw him- you ran to him. You no longer cared about what Thanos thought, nor what he'd do.

"I'm so happy to see you." Dae-Ho mumbled into your hair, which his face had been shoved into right after you ran into his arms.

"I have to stay with you, Thanos tried to leave me. I can't make it with him." Dae-Ho didn't hesitate, and pulled you over to his group.

Though, Thanos didn't like that. "Yo, brotha. What're you doing with my sister!" He tried to shove Dae-Ho, but he was bigger and stronger.

The platform started to spin.

"Leave her alone, you obviously cant take care of your sister." He ushered you behind him.

"I don't know what you're talking about bro! I save her, shes only alive because of me and Nam-Gyu!" He argued, leaving out the crucial part of information where he wasn't the one who grabbed you.

"It doesn't matter anymore. I will keep her safe now, you can mind your own business and get along with Nam-Gyu."

They continued to yell and argue over the carousel's music, it was difficult to hear them. Until,

'Three'

Thanos gripped one of your arms, Dae-Ho held another.

"Thanos, let go!" You yelled, trying to pull from his grasp.

It was chaotic, screaming was heard around you. "Dae-Ho, this way!" Two men yelled out, Dae-Ho twisted his head but didn't move.

Your stomach dropped. You couldn't be the reason Dae-Ho would die. You were all running out of time.

"Dae-Ho, go. Please! I'll go with Thanos and Nam-Gyu!"

"I'm not leaving you!" He was adamant about protecting you. Damned everyone else.

"If you don't go, we will all die. Time is running out!" Dae-Ho battled internally, you let go of his hand.

"Go! It's okay, I'll see you in a minute!"

He didn't want to leave, he couldn't. But you made him. When he slowly walked backwards, you let out a relived sigh. You then turned to run with Thanos. Nam-Gyu was already in a room, his yelling ushering you two forward.

It was going to be okay, The three of you in a room. Everything was fine. There was time.

Until, Nam-Gyu moved out of the way... Gyeong-su was behind him... There was already two in the room. Thanos ran in, not thinking twice.

Your running came to a stop right outside of the door. Where Thanos himself had closed it on you.

A "NO!" Was heard from across the room. It was Dae-Ho. He tried to come to you, but he was too far.

Player 456 and player 001 were pulling him into a room. Forcing the door shut. You could see Dae-Ho looking out of the door slit, his hands peaking out as well.

You didn't turn to see what Thanos might have been doing. You didn't care. Not anymore.

You just wanted your last moment to be looking at the most handsome man you'd ever met. His soft eyes were filled with tears as he watched you.

You weren't upset, not scared, not nervous. Not anymore.

It would all be over soon.

You gave him one last salute before a loud bang rang out.

A/N- Not going to lie ya'll, I ate that up. But I still love hearing y'all's constructive criticism! Please LMK if you want to be added to my tag list, TYSM for reading!

Dae-Ho Taglist- @fuzzyscissorsmakerpie-blog @thethreeeyed-raven

[slytherinslut0]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S RIDDLEMAS

dec 10th. tom riddle — oral sex, experienced!tom.

RIDDLEMAS MASTERLIST. I 2024

summary: your ex couldn’t make you orgasm, so you were certain you were broken. tom shows you just how wrong you are.

warnings: 18+, SMUTTT MDNI, tom riddle can eat me aliv—sorry who tf said that?, tom riddle is such a realist; he sees a problem and he finds a solution, tom is a munch, praise kink, oral f!receiving, experienced tom, hufflepuff!reader.

Months pass, and your project remains the only thing Tom ever prioritizes when it's you asking.

Progress is slow—slow because you're usually far too busy talking to actually focus—yet, he always stays. He listens, even when the things you say should bore him, even when they mean nothing at all. He sits there—giving you hardly the barest scraps of himself in return as you fill the space between you with everything that crosses your mind.

Things he'd never waste a second hearing from anyone else.

And tonight, to no-one's surprise, you're doing it again—rambling on about nothing and everything all at once. You've got this way of talking—weaving tangents into something almost poetic, and usually, he lets it fade into the background as he works. You're saying something about the differences between the seasons, or maybe it's just some other kind of sentimental nonsense—at this point, he's not entirely sure.

It's easy to tune out. He tells himself he's not really listening.

Until—

"Actually, I guess I should clarify that—it's all hypothetical. I don't date," he doesn't know what you said before this, but he's certainly intrigued by it now. "And really, it has nothing to do with like, self esteem or anything, I'm just broken. Best to save someone the trouble."

That stops him cold. It's not so much the declaration that you don't date—he could have guessed that himself—but more so the way you've just called yourself broken.

It's not a word he's ever heard you use before.

"What do you mean, broken?" He asks, the question coming out far more blunt than he probably intended.

It just seems so out of character for you—you've always been an optimist, far too annoyingly positive to speak of anything this way. He blinks when you freeze, and blinks again when a moment of self consciousness seems to pass over your face—and he notes how that's a first for you, too.

"Broken...as in, uh, not normal," your eyes flit down to your lap, tracing the wood beneath where you're seated on the floor in his dorm. "My ex made that very clear in his assessment of me."

The mention of an ex is something he'd been anticipating—you're in your twenties, after all—but it's the idea that your ex is the source of you calling yourself broken, that he can't quite swallow.

"You're 'broken' because of one ex?" He says, and he can't stop how derisive and skeptical his voice sounds. He doesn't care to try. "I'm not following."

"I'm what you'd call, damaged goods, I think," you murmur, and there's an almost self-deprecating smirk on your face. He can't help but think how he's never seen that look on you, either. "I've got a slew of unhealthy baggage that comes along with me. You know, childhood traumas, abandonment issues, daddy issues—"

He snorts at that—daddy issues—and your head snaps up, smirk deepening despite yourself.

"Don't snort at my daddy issues," you huff, and there's a familiar annoyance in your voice that puts him at ease. "They're valid and real."

"I'm not denying their validity," he counters, his own smirk beginning to surface. "But daddy issues? Come on. You're not some tired cliché ripped out of a teenage romance novel. I refuse to accept your declaration of brokenness until you give me factual reasoning."

You laugh at that—alive and genuine—and for a moment, he's reminded of why he even tolerates you in his space at all.

"Fine," you cross your arms over your chest. "What do you want to know then?"

He makes a low, contemplative sound at that—because there's a million questions that come to mind with the words damaged goods—and after a moment, he settles on the one that falls out first.

"What is it, precisely, that makes you broken?"

You sigh, a bit theatrically—he knows you're just putting on a show and he wants to laugh at you for it—but he reigns that in, for now, while you figure out how you're going to respond to that.

The truth is, you don't know how to tell him the real reason you're broken—the part that has nothing to do with the laundry list of emotional baggage you could rattle off with ease. It's something...different.

Something more physical.

"I don't know, okay?" You're getting defensive. You're not sure why but you are. "Just—forget I said anything. We have this assignment to—"

"You dodging the question tells me it's more than just psychological," he cuts you off, leaning back into the couch. The way he's looking at you makes it clear—there's no way he's letting this go. "You getting defensive tells me you're embarrassed by it."

You sigh again, leaning back on your palms to mirror his body language, though it doesn't feel half as natural on you as it does on him.

"And you, being an insufferable arse, is telling me I never should have mentioned it in the first place."

His smirk at that makes you want to glare at him.

"Stop dodging," he says. "You brought it up. You don't get to take it back."

It's a challenge—the gleam in his eyes is practically screaming so. You're not sure why the sight of it makes something low in your stomach clench, and you're even less sure of why you want to tell him something like this—something you haven't told anyone else—not friends, certainly not family.

Whatever the reasoning, you can feel yourself relent.

"Maybe," you pause, the look on his face makes you second guess yourself. "...maybe I don't want to tell you because I'm afraid you'll look at me differently." You glance down at your lap, fingers twitching against the yellow pleats of your skirt before finally meeting his eyes again. "And I kind of like the way you look at me now."

Something like curiosity passes over his expression at that—but it's quickly hidden by the type of skepticism that tells you he still doesn't believe you're being serious.

"You're overthinking it," he replies, unmoving. "Whatever it is you think you're going to tell me, I'm not going to look at you differently. You're still you—no filter, unabashedly verbal—"

"Too verbal. Too positive, too loud," you finish his sentence for him—because you know that's how he thinks of you. "Too annoyingly optimistic. Far too hufflepuff for your cold snake skin. I know."

"Exactly," he says, tongue running over his bottom lip in attempt to quell his smirk. "So I reiterate. There's nothing you could tell me that would change that."

"Fine," you relent, giving in begrudgingly because you know there's no other option. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

He just lifts a hand at that, as if to say; whatever you think it is, I can handle it. The action makes you suck a breath into your lungs, trapping it there.

"You're right," you say after a long exhale. "I have a slew of psychological bullshit that would take the span of a year for me to fully go over in one sitting—but, I'm fine with it. That's...that's not the thing that made me call myself broken."

He says nothing, just makes a motion with his eyes for you to keep going.

"It's, uhm...physical." You whisper, and your brain is moving too much and too fast and you're not even completely sure how to say it without sounding insane. "And...I don't know, I just...I can't orgasm. No matter what. I just can't—it's frustrating and embarrassing and it's the reason my ex ended things."

There's a silence that follows, and he knows if it were anyone else, they'd probably find a way to comfort you. Reassure you. Tom, however, isn't anyone else—

"You're joking," he says, and his tone is incredulous again.

A self-depreciating laugh leaves your lips involuntarily, the sound of it making you almost want to cringe.

"Would it be less embarrassing if I was?"

He's still just watching you, dissecting your words as if waiting for you to crack a smile and confess this was all some stupid joke—and the vulnerability of it aches like a stab to the gut.

"This is the reason you think you're broken?" Is what he goes with when he finally realizes you're being serious. "Because you haven’t orgasmed?"

The bluntness of it makes you flush, makes you wish you could sink into the floor. "I know it's not normal, okay—"

"It's not an abnormality, either," he asserts, with casualty. "You might just have a disconnect."

You blink, caught off guard—not just by his choice of words, but by how matter-of-fact he sounds, like this isn't the mortifying confession it feels like.

"A disconnect?"

"A disconnect," he repeats, looking you over, something clinical slipping into his eyes. "Between mind and body. And considering how loud your thoughts are—"

"Hey—" you snap, suddenly feeling a bit indignant, but he just continues on.

"—it's not surprising that you can't get out of your own head."

You open your mouth to argue, to tell him he's not a therapist, so what the hell does he know? But the certainty in his expression makes you pause. He doesn't look patronizing or condescending, just...assured. Like he knows exactly what he's talking about.

You hesitate, lips parting, a protest forming on your tongue. Before you can say anything, though, he raises a hand to stop you.

"Come here," he says, standing up from the couch.

You blink, trying to decipher what the hell he's implying—because if anything, the last thing that's going to make you less paranoid about intimacy is proximity.

"What?"

He just looks at you, making a motion with two fingers, beckoning you to stand.

"Don't ask questions. Just come here."

It's an order, and it makes your spine tingle in a way that's definitely not comfortable—but you get up from the floor, and move closer to him anyway, closing the distance between you with only a few steps until you're close enough to him that you can practically feel the heat that seems to come off him in waves.

It's weird—he's suddenly too much all at once—you're so much more aware of him being in front of you than you think you've ever been before and it does not help that he's just looking at you—as if studying you—blinking only once as he raises those same two fingers to your neck, resting them against the pulse point at your throat.

Your entire body tenses. His touch is far more gentle than you ever imagined it being, something disarming that makes your pulse beat faster against his fingers as a result—and because this is Tom, with all his smug and certainty—he gives you a look that tells you he can feel it before he slides his fingers up to rest on your forehead.

You scowl at the motion, but he clicks his tongue, the sound as condescending as it is amused.

"I told you, you're an overthinker." He murmurs, eyes dipping to your lips. "Too much noise."

You want to refute that—mostly because you're not overthinking, you can't be—he's just so unequivocally overwhelming—

"I'm not—"

You start, but he moves his fingers from your forehead and places them against your lips—

"Quiet." He scolds, and that makes something low in your stomach clench. "Your body knows what to do. You're just letting your thoughts get in the way."

You long to protest again, just for the sake of defiance—but then his fingers are against your collarbone, and that motion in your stomach becomes a bit more of a squirm—

"Your body is trying to tell you something," he whispers, watching each little hitch in your breath. "But you're too busy talking over it to hear what it's saying."

You realize—with a sort of horror that's laced with something a little more uncomfortable—that he's right. Your body is trying to say something. It's communicating through the unsteady force of your breaths, through the clench of your fists against your skirt—

Of course, he notices. He's noticing far too much.

"Relax," he murmurs, and now he's trailing those same two fingers in an unhurried path down your shoulder. You suddenly regret every decision that led to you wearing a T-shirt. "I'm not going to bite you."

Something about the way he says it makes you wish he wasn't quite so convincing—the familiar banter you long for gone with the sharp exhale that comes out of your mouth as his fingers encircle your wrist—

"Your pulse is racing," he says casually, far too casually for how much effort it's taking you not to scream. "Does that seem broken to you?"

Gods—you want to respond—you really, really do— but your thoughts flatline when you realize his touch has shifted. He's no longer just holding your wrist; he's guiding your hands to rest against his chest, and—

"There you go," he whispers, and the tone of it tells you he knows exactly what it is he's doing to you. "See? Your body's doing exactly what it's meant to do. You—" his fingers trail up your arms, and his voice gets lower. "—are not broken."

You swallow hard, acutely aware of your hands on his chest and the way your palms are clammy against the fabric of his shirt. He's shifting you now, deliberately crowding you, and it's only when you feel the edge of the couch press against the back of your calves that you realize—perhaps a second too late—exactly what it is he's doing.

You stumble back onto the leather, and he follows—crushing his lips to yours.

You gasp, startled, because despite everything you truly hadn't seen this coming. The kiss is messy, clumsy, and his hand finds the nape of your neck, tugging at your hair with just enough force to make it sting. And inevitably, when you gasp again, he takes it as an invitation to work his tongue into your mouth, other hand slipping under your shirt—trailing up your stomach.

You're trembling now, and he makes a low sound at the realization. Your brain is racing to catch up, and the irony of this isn't lost on you—he'd just claimed you weren't broken, but he might as well be destroying you himself.

He parts from your lips only to trail his own across your jaw—

"You're shaking," he murmurs with a smirk against your throat—as if he's taking immense pleasure in the fact—you hate how smug it makes him sound. "Do you want me to stop?"

You want to tell him he's being a bastard, but then his lips press to that spot on your neck—the one that makes your breath hitch and your pulse stutter—and you find yourself whimpering at the sensation.

"No," you breathe, and you'd be embarrassed by the pleading tone in your voice if you weren't so lost in the moment. "Don't stop."

He makes another low, satisfied noise at that.

"Good," he whispers. "No thinking. Just feel."

You swallow—throat dry. It's unfair how easily he's dismantling you with nothing but his mouth and hands. Unfair how he's leaving you breathless and unraveling while somehow making you feel seen in a way you can't explain, even with your eyes shut.

"Tom," you find yourself whimpering, and you aren't even sure what you're asking for—you just know you want more as his lips trail lower—as his fingers work to tug down your skirt. "Gods."

"Shh. Feel me," he murmurs, almost possessively, his lips brushing lower, grazing over your stomach, then your pelvis. "Let your body do the talking."

You've got your hands tangled in his hair before you even know what you're doing, and you hate the fact that you're pretty sure you'd melt into a puddle if he weren't holding you together.

"I feel you," you whimper as he kisses lower. "You're all I feel."

He makes another low sound at that, and you just know it's the response of ‘yeah, that’s right’—but then he's between your legs, panties shifted out of the way, and the first sweep of his tongue against your clit makes all coherent thought shift to static.

"Oh! God," you gasp, the word barely escaping before dissolving into a whimper when he does something with his tongue that makes your vision blur. "Tom—oh, fuck."

He just makes that smug, satisfied noise against you again before his tongue swirls over your clit and you find yourself almost cursing whatever deity made him so good at this, because it's not fair how quickly he reduced you to a whimpering, shaking mess beneath him and—

"Don't stop," you find yourself babbling, digging your nails into his scalp and knowing you look like a goddamn wreck as he makes a meal out of you—tongue lapping up your slick and swirling your clit before sealing his lips around it and forcing your back off the leather beneath it. "Please, don't stop, please—"

It's all you can manage to say. Your thighs are shaking now, and you're sure he's got you dripping all over his face with how soaked you are. He knows you're falling apart and he just keeps going— your brain ceasing function in favour of just focusing on how fucking close you are—how close you are to something you've never felt before in your life—and you're not even sure what you're begging for anymore but it's incoherent and loud—

"I need—" you whimper, your hands tightening in his hair, pulling just enough to make him groan against you. You don't know what you're asking for, but you know he has it. "I need—I need—“

"Let go," he murmurs against you, the roughness in it vibrating up into your belly. "I dare you."

There's still a little bit of you functioning on autopilot, just enough to tell you that when he murmurs those words—vibrations rattling up your cunt and into your chest—you're completely done for.

It’s merely a few seconds later that your high reaches its peak and he just keeps lapping as you shake apart beneath him with an intensity you've never felt before in your life—orgasm shredding you apart at the seams. Your thighs clamp around his face, your eyes squeezed shut, ears ringing so loud you barely register his low, muttered praises: "good girl," "so good," "there you go."

You’re fairly positive your legs will never be able to support you again when you finally come back down, feeling entirely like jelly as he pulls back, tongue flicking over his lips to clean off whatever's left of you.

And without thinking, you grab him and pull him up, crashing your lips against his in a messy, desperate kiss. He tastes like you, like him, like something you can't quite describe—and it makes everything feel intense and unbearably real all at once.

He gives you a moment, as if letting you recover, just languidly kissing you back—and you have to be honest with yourself and admit that this kind of makes you want to scream.

"A disconnect," he smirks against your mouth, the tone still smug. You manage a weak smack to his shoulder, though it does nothing to wipe the satisfaction off his face. "Still sure you're broken?"

You hate that he's right. Hate that he's managed to pull a reaction from you that you didn't think was possible. But as you sit there, shaky and spent, you know you can't deny the truth: no, you're not broken.

"Not broken." You whisper back. "You will be though, if you don't stop smirking at me like that."

[ghsface]

Hi k have a kinda specific request that I thought would make a good fic! I was thinking that maybe we see the BAU and y/n and Spencer the morning after Yk… the girls figure out that y/n just got layes and they do the whole bonding girl gossip thing. Derek sees Spencer wearing a scarf and makes a joke about it, only to realize that he was right. Penelope tells Derek and then without y/n or Spencer realizing like everyone knows. They also figure out why Reid is the only one with hikeys 🫢 and yeah…. Thanks queen! I hope this makes sense

New Message ✮⋆˙

Hey gorgeous, I love this idea so much, it was very fun to write I hope you like 🎀 🩷

our secret, not so secret - Spencer Reid

Sumary: You and Spencer try to hide your relationship, but it's hard when you have hickeys on your neck.

Warnings: fluff, jokes, hickeys, the bau being chaotic, I think that's all, this is pure fluff,

A/n: I'm sorry if there is something wrong or not understood, my first language is not English.

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It was a chaotic morning for you. You woke up a little late and the mess was evident in Spencer's bathroom mirror, with those little reminders on your neck that not even the concealer could completely hide. You were aware that you were trying a desperate maneuver, but well, Spencer had already warned you that the makeup would not last the entire day. Still, you were determined not to leave any evidence, you applied the last layer of foundation before leaving his apartment, determined not to give any clues about what happened the night before.

For Spencer, the situation was not much different. She decided to cover the marks with a scarf, trying to act normal as they prepared to face another day of work at the BAU, as if everything was perfectly under control. The two of you looked at each other knowingly before leaving, in an attempt to keep your relationship a secret... again.

Arriving at the office, you said good morning as if nothing had happened. But it wasn’t long before Emily and JJ, who seemed to have a radar for these matters, caught you in their line of sight. They looked you up and down with a mischievous grin, and without missing a beat, JJ raised an eyebrow and fired the first bullet: “And that face, Y/N? Long night?”

You tried to shake your head with a nervous laugh, avoiding looking at the two too much, but Emily stepped closer, lowering her tone so as not to draw too much attention. “Oh, come on, babe. There’s a sparkle in your eyes… and, from what I see, on your neck too.”

With your heart in your throat, you quickly glanced at your reflection in a nearby frame and noticed that the base had already begun to fade, leaving a faint purple mark showing. Emily and JJ glanced at each other, and then Penelope, who appeared out of nowhere as if she had smelled the drama, also joined the small circle. “Please let me guess… was anyone busy last night?”

Between laughs and accusations, you tried to defend yourself without much success. You knew they were trying to provoke you and that, at this rate, the secret wasn't going to last long. Emily and JJ's laughter soon attracted Derek, who approached with a mocking smile. “What's up, girls? Something I'm missing?”

Emily gave him a knowing look and pointed towards the entrance, where Spencer had just appeared with a very inconspicuous scarf. Derek narrowed his eyes and laughed. “Since when does Spencer wear scarves? It's spring, for God's sake.”

They all looked at each other, hiding their laughter, as Derek approached Spencer. With an attitude that only Derek could adopt, he patted him on the back and gave him a knowing smile. “Pretty boy… do you need some advice on how to handle the weather?”

Spencer froze for a second, trying not to lose his cool. He knew he had been caught. He tried to respond with a vague excuse about “changing his style” and “protecting his throat,” but Derek simply held up his hands in an innocent gesture. “Sure, sure, I imagine the weather was intense last night, right?”

Meanwhile, you were trying not to burst out laughing at Spencer's obvious blush and despair. But Derek, who had caught on to the whole situation, turned around to join Emily, JJ, and Penelope again, winking at the girls. “See what I'm saying? Our genius boy is growing up.”

Before Spencer could respond, Hotch walked past the group, observing the laughter and commotion with his usual seriousness. But something in his expression betrayed that he fully understood what the conversation was about.

“Anything you want to share?” he asked, without losing his composure.

Derek shook his head with a smile, but took the opportunity to continue provoking. “Nothing, Hotch. It just seems that some of your colleagues have… interesting extracurricular activities.”

Hotch cast a quick glance at you, who were trying to make yourself small at your desk, and then at Spencer, with her suspicious scarf. For the first time, a barely perceptible smile crossed his face.

“I guess ‘activities’ require a little more discretion next time, too, huh?” Hotch said, before continuing on his way.

As the team laughed and threw around comments, Rossi walked over with a cup of coffee, assessing the scene like the veteran he was. “Ah, youth… that energy and lack of subtlety. There’s nothing like first love at work.”

By then, the rumor had already spread throughout the office.

Hours later, as you tried to continue with your work, Penelope approached with a whisper. “Honey, we all know. You two don’t have to hide anything.” Your surprised expression was enough to make her laugh. “Did you really think you could keep it a secret? Come on, we’re profilers. Wait not me but thay do. Plus… you’ve never come to the office so… happy.”

You decided to give in and accept it, and just as you were about to approach Spencer to tell him, he appeared at your side, still wearing the scarf. When you turned to look at him, he already had that resigned expression on his face that made you laugh. “How much did you hear?” he asked with a sigh, looking around and catching everyone’s smiles.

“Everything?” you said with a mocking smile.

Finally, Derek, with an air of triumph, approached the two of you and announced loudly, “And that’s how it’s done, ladies and gentlemen! Our boy has become quite the man.” The office was filled with laughter and jokes as you and Spencer exchanged glances that were somewhere between nervous and amused.

Emily approached you and, not missing the opportunity, added, “So… how long did you think you were going to last without us finding out? A day, maybe two?”

You bit your lip, embarrassed, and looked at Spencer, who didn’t know whether to laugh or faint. In the end, there wasn’t much else to say.

JJ laughed, giving you a gentle shove. “Relax, Y/N. We knew before you guys realized it. We were just waiting to see how long it would take you to admit it.”

You and Spencer exchanged a resigned look. Maybe their “secret” hadn’t been so secret after all.

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your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly, and feel free to leave a request ✮

[hyunniesgirl]

Can I be your favorite?

Pairing: Lee know x reader

Genre: smut, fluff

Summary: Lee Minho is unreachable, someone you can only just dream of being with. Until one day, you enter the wrong door at a party and ends up with him inviting you to sit on his lap.

Part 2

THIS CONTENT IS +18 ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Warnings: corruption kink, protected piv, fingering, Minho is kinda possessive.

You're okay with not being popular, it's not like you'll be like that forever, it's just college and in a few years everything will be forgotten so you just keep living your life, going to your classes and hanging out with your best friend.

The only time you ever wish you were popular, though, is when you see him. Lee Minho. The guy of your dreams. He's vice president of the greatest fraternity on campus, so everyone knows him.

Lee Minho is someone mysterious, no one knows much about him other than that he changes girlfriends faster than he changes clothes. So more than half of the girls in this university already had their heart broken by him.

That doesn't make you like him less though, it's not like something will ever happen between you two so a little crush on him is not something to worry about, even more so when he doesn't even know about your existence.

Your best friend, Jihyo is the opposite of you, she likes partying and she always tries to drag you to one of her nights out. That's how you ended up in the situation you're in right now. Alone in the kitchen of a frat house, listening to a drunk guy teaching you about your own major, while sipping on a drink you're not even sure about the contents.

You watch as a group of people play beer pong on the counter in the middle of the kitchen, everyone is sweating and there's alcohol being spilled all over the place. You're at a safe distance but you pity the person who's going to clean this up later on.

You have no idea where Jihyo went, she told you she was going to the bathroom half an hour ago and never came back. You're tired of hearing this guy too, he's talking about first year contents when you're already in your third year.

“That's so interesting”, you smile at him, “but I have to go find my friend now”, you don't let him say a word, quickly sneaking away from the kitchen.

You look around, trying to find your best friend, but she's nowhere to be seen. Maybe she's on the second floor, you ask people and they tell you exactly where the bathroom is. However, you shouldn't be so quick as to trust drunk people.

Because when you open the door people pointed out as the bathroom, you find a room with red lights brightening the dark space.

There's a bed in the middle of the room and in that bed there's a couple and that couple happens to be Lee Minho and someone you have no idea who it is. They are luckily not in a compromising position, not making out or something worse. She's just sitting on his lap, having her giggles stopped by the bright light that comes from the door when you open it.

Your eyes grow wide when Minho looks at you with his fierce unfriendly eyes.

“Hm- I'm- sorry, I thought this was the bathroom”, you smile sheepishly, fidgeting on your feet.

Minho looks at you up and down and you swear you can see a smirk forming on his lips, but you're not sure since the light is not great.

“I guess the sign with my name on the wall is not very visible”, he points out dryly, making your face turn red. Great, that's great. Nice way to be humiliated by your crush, y/n.

“I apologize, I really didn't see it”, you say again. You should already have gotten out of there but for some reason it seems that your feet are stuck on the ground.

“Honey, why don't you go downstairs, I'll talk to you later”, Minho says to the girl on his lap, making her groan in frustration. She gets up, angrily walking past you. “You should close the door if you're going to stay”, he tells you and your feet finally move just enough to be able to close the door with you still inside.

“Do you know where the bathroom is?” You ask like an idiot.

“I live here”, he says obviously, “but I don't think you're still looking for the bathroom”, he grins, seeing you lick your lips. “Why don't you come and take a seat?”

Your legs move on it's own once more, giving slow unsure steps in his direction. You sit on the edge of the bed, watching him carefully as he leans back, supporting his upper body on his hands, arms spread on the mattress.

He stares at you, surprised. Minho chuckles, shaking his head.

“That's not what I was talking about”, he tells you, landing his hand on his thigh and tapping there. “Why don't you try sitting here?” He asks.

You feel your whole body turning hot, why is he asking for you to sit on his lap?

“I-I should get going”, you stand up fast, but before you can walk away he takes a deep breath.

“Are you sure that's what you want?” Minho tilts his head, waiting for your answer.

No, that's not what you want. You really, really want to sit on his lap and let him do anything he wants with you. So you give in to your desires, stepping closer to him and bending down to sit on his thigh.

He bites on his bottom lip, watching you fidgeting and trying to get comfortable. By the way you're stiff, it's obvious you have never done this before and that gets him excited.

He corrects his posture, sitting with his chest close to you. One of his hands lands on your left thigh and the other goes to your waist.

Minho doesn't need to waste another second to find out that he likes you. You're just his type, shy and reserved, someone who he can corrupt. Someone who can make him go absolutely crazy.

“You see, I see the way you look at me”, he says, caressing your back with the hand he had on your waist. “Jihyo is not very quiet and every time she catches my attention you're there and every time I look at you, you're looking at me”, he says, like he's saying something you don't know. “After some time I just came to the conclusion that you may like me. Am I right about that?”

You nod automatically, like you're obligated to tell him the truth. Maybe your brain just doesn't work when you're near him.

“Hmm”, Minho hums, “tell me then, what can you do for me?”

“W-what do you mean?” You manage to ask, getting goosebumps with every touch of his.

“I mean to say, why should I choose you? I have a great number of options”, he smirks. He's teasing now, even though he's already set on making you his, he just wants to hear your answer.

You have so many things to use at your advantage, pretty lips that he wants to kiss, soft skin that he wants to leave marks all over and the sweetest voice that he wants to hear crying his name while he fucks you so deeply you'll beg him to keep going.

“Anything”, you gulp, “you can do anything you want with me, I'm entirely yours”, and that is better than anything else he could hear. That is the last straw.

Minho puts his hand behind your neck, pulling you to him and kissing you in a hungry, hot kiss. He grabs your hair with the other hand, pulling a handful and making you groan with the sudden pain but it's still so good. His tongue brushes on your lips, entering your mouth and slightly caressing yours. The way he's grabbing you is just too much, you feel like you're going to explode at any moment.

Minho lets go of you for a moment just to take his shirt off, showing you his bare chest. He gets back on grabbing you, pressing you against his body. You're not sure if this is right but it definitely doesn't feel wrong.

You take your crop top off, throw it on the floor and pray that Jihyo will forgive you for doing that with her clothes. Wrapping your arms around Minho's neck, you kiss him again, feeling his bulge beneath you.

He sneaks a hand down your stomach, unbuttoning your jeans and pushing your panties to the side as soon as he manages to reach your soaking cunt.

Minho presses a finger on your clit, you stop the kiss just to gasp and he pulls away, staring at you while he inserts a finger between your folds.

“Has anyone ever fingered you?” He whispers, listening to your low moans, you're cute trying to hold back.

You open your eyes to look at him, shaking your head. That's beautiful, he gets even more excited to know he's the first one giving you pleasure like that.

“And what about sex, have you had it before?” He asks one more question, pushing his finger in and out of you.

“A-a few times”, you struggle to say, feeling your cheeks hot.

“That's good, virgins aren't really my thing”, he smirks, “then, you can handle one more finger, right?” He asks, not waiting for your answer and pushing in another finger inside of you.

“Oh”, it's the only sound you can make. You hold him harder, with your mind dizzy. “It's too much”, you sob, feeling the stretch, it burns a bit but it's so good.

“Oh, Kitten”, he pouts. “How are you supposed to handle my cock if you can't handle two fingers? I'm bigger than that”, he smirks while saying that.

“I can do it, I can”, you nod frantically, too drunk on the pleasure of his fingers inside you to think straight.

“I'm glad you're confident”, he takes his fingers out of you and takes them to his mouth, liking every drop of your juice. “Your taste might be my new favorite”

He helps you get up, your legs are weak even though you didn't cum. Minho helps you lie on the bed, pulling your jeans down, trailing kisses down your legs while dragging out the fabric.

“You are pretty”, he mutters, taking off his pants and underwear, crawling back to stay on top of you, kissing your chest and your collarbone, biting on the skin and leaving a couple of hickeys there. Minho goes down your breasts, sucking and licking your nipples, kneading at the other with his hand. He's humping on your leg, rubbing his hard cock on your thigh.

His touch makes you feel like you're on fire, tingling sensations spreading all over your body. His kisses leave you so turned on, you don't think you ever felt this horny.

“Kitten”, he calls you, making you blush. It's crazy to think that even though you two are naked in front of each other, him calling you a pet name is what makes you flustered.

Minho gives you a peck on the lips, leaning over to the bedside table to look for a condom. He opens the package with his teeth, spitting the piece of plastic and stroking his cock on hand.

He looks so good, standing on his knees in between your legs, eyes closed feeling his fist caressing him.

“Let me do it”, you take the courage to say, sitting and taking the package out of his mouth into your hands. Minho watches you attentively as you grab the base of his cock, sliding the condom down his length.

“Fuck”, he murmurs, grabbing your face on his hands and kissing you so hard you can taste blood, not sure from which of you.

Minho positions himself in your entrance, looking at you to wait for your consent and when you nod he pushes in. You wrap your legs around his hips, trying to bring him closer even though it hurts a bit, it's so good you think you will go crazy.

“M-minho”, you moan, throwing your arms around his waist, digging your nails on his skin.

“Shit, you're perfect”, he starts moving, each trust making you moan louder. Your walls are squeezing him so deliciously that he can cum at any moment. His cock feels so good, reaching all the places you didn't even know existed.

Minho kisses you, fucking into you so fast you can barely breath. You never thought he could be even more beautiful, hair stuck on his sweaty forehead, eyes staring intensely at yours, bottom lip stuck between his teeth while he fucks you senseless. He leans closer, kissing your neck, leaving a long and a bit painful mark there.

“You're mine now”, he smiles shakily, clearly close to his release. You can feel your orgasm approaching too, cumming and tightening your legs around his hips, making his release follow yours.

Minho gives you a kiss before falling to your side, breathing heavily accompanied by you. You don't know what to say and you're scared he'll pretend this was nothing so you get up, collecting your things, not waiting for him to kick you out.

“What are you doing?” He asks, scowling.

“Getting dressed so I can get out”, you explain naively, being watched by him like you're the prey and he is the predator.

“What part of “you're mine now”, you didn't understand?” He asks, laying down with an arm beneath his head and the other stretched to the side of the bed, waiting for you to lie there. “Come back here, I'm not even nearly done with you”, he smirks, watching you blush again.

You drop the clothes you have collected, crawling back on the bed and snuggling close to him. Minho pulls you closer, turning to you and wrapping his free arm around your waist.

“I'll tell you what we're gonna do”, he explains and you nod, “I'm going to fuck you until the only thing you can remember is my name and after that I'll take you out to dinner”

Lee Know presses his body on yours, showing you that his cock is already hardening again and you giggle, blushing once more.

Never have you felt so happy to trust drunk people's instructions.

A/N: If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback gives me motivation to keep writing.

[that-one-p00k1e]

─────〃★ for you, I wouldೃ⁀➷˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚

✧ summary: things they would do for you ft. Ren Kaji, Hajime Umemiya, Haruka Sakura, Hayato Suo, Jo Togame, Mitsuki Kiryu, Akihiko Nirei, Tasuku Tsubakino, Toma Hiragi, Yamato Endo, Chika Takiishi

✧ content: fluff, gn!reader (I think), OOC most likely, established!relationship, not proofread I'm sorry, tsubakino's pronouns are confirmed he/him ✦ a/n: HAAAAPPPYYYYY NNNNNEEEWWW YYYYEEAAARRR BBBBIITTCHHESSSSS😝😝😝😝 six months since I last posted omg-! I'm still alive! 😍 tysm for the support while I'm gone ily'all <33

—REN KAJI would turn off his music and pull down his headphones to listen to you ramble. Though he had his attention to his phone, he'd give silent nods and hums here and there to let you know that he was listening. Occasionally, he'd throw in little comments and questions regarding the topic you were telling. Little to your knowledge, your rambles to him were like taking notes. He'd mentally highlight things that he thought were important, and would keep it in mind in the future. He's the type to look nonchalant, but deep down, he cares more than he lets on. “... What's wrong?” he asked as he heard you abruptly stop talking. “Forget it.. You're not even listening.” You looked away in disappointment, letting out a quiet sigh. “But I have been listening,” he tried to reassure, feeling slightly guilty for making you feel neglected. “Really? Then repeat all the things I've been saying.” He, in fact, did repeat most things you've mentioned and justified his word.

—HAJIME UMEMIYA would gift you random bouquets every week, as if he hasn't gifted you enough already. What's special about his bouquets is that you can never guess the theme for the week. First, he started off classic – flowers, with the consideration of them being fake so that you'd be able to keep them forever. Then, he brought you a bouquet of snacks and sweets that he knew were your favorite. Next thing you knew, he's giving you a bouquet of money he's been secretly saving up on. You felt guilty; guilty for the effort he's been putting, just for you to return it with some unprofessional homemade baked goods. It felt unfair. But does he sail on the same boat? No. He's going to reassure you that he expects nothing in return, and that you being there for him and loving him was what all he ever wanted and needed.

—HARUKA SAKURA would spend his free time struggling to assemble a Lego flower bouquet set after learning about White Day. He wanted to return your gesture of gifting him during Valentine's, despite himself denying such intention. It took a lot of effort, in both figuring out what to get while fearing you wouldn't like it –to the point that he would even call over Nirei and Suo for help – and in building the tiny pieces of bricks after settling on a final decision for the gift. He persisted to build it himself, no matter how much his friends offered to help. He wanted to make sure it was his work purely, done with his own hands. The whole process was frustrating, infuriating, and was basically a test of patience. But after seeing how you kept the received bouquet in a glass vase – delicately treasuring it on your bedroom display – he has never felt so proud yet flustered his whole life.

—HAYATO SUO would waltz into the café without a care in the world while having scattered lipstick stains decorating his face. Moreover, it wasn't your idea in the first place– it was his. Your relationship wasn't out yet, and he thought, what better way to publish it than announcing it wordlessly but gives double the impact? “Hm? Oh, this? It's my beloved’s artwork. Do you like it?” he'll innocently ask when someone questions the visible lip prints. Sakura was a blushing mess, and Suo was very much enjoying the look of bewilderment from others as they received the unspoken news. This was the reaction he wanted. This was what boosted his pride furthermore in being your boyfriend, and he'd shamelessly do it again to show off his love for you to the world.

—JO TOGAME would be your personal walking object holder. He'd take your bag and sling it over his shoulder with you needless to say; he'd keep hair bands around his wrist in case you decided to tie your hair up; he'd hold your shopping bags throughout your journey at the mall. Never were you the one to request his aid first, and never has he complained about being tired. He'd even go barefoot just to lend you his footwear when your feet start to hurt in heels. Moreover, he'd carry you bridal along the way. Despite you worrying over him tiring himself, he persisted to keep ahold of you. He loves seeing you enjoy life without a care in the world, and he'd do anything to carry burdens that dare to get in the way of that enjoyment.

—MITSUKI KIRYU would deliberately lose in a game of UNO and let you take the victory when he could've won decades ago. The whole time the both of you were playing, he's been holding a Wild and Draw 4 but refrained from using them. Instead, he kept drawing cards and just went yolo to buy time. Though he always played fair, seeing your dejected expression after losing many rounds this time was a little too unbearable for him. He promised himself for once, just this once will he let himself take a loss. He knew it wouldn't be fair, but if it meant that he'll get to see you smile in victory, then he doesn't find any problem with that.

—AKIHIKO NIREI would write down even the littlest of details about you that were thrown at him. You'd be casually mentioning a trivial preference as a ramble, but never had he pulled out his notebook and pen so quickly. During his early stages of getting to know you, he made sure to memorize everything you told him about yourself; your favorite color, favorite food, dream place to go, he even looked up your zodiac sign after knowing your birth date. He doesn't mean it in a creepy way. In fact, it was his way to know how to get closer to you. Despite already having the skill to remember it all, he likes to write it down to make sure as well as for keepsake. Thanks to that, now he has a cheat sheet on how to make you smile.

—TASUKU TSUBAKINO would wear himself a nail polish color that reminds him of you. Or, moreover, your favorite color. He loved being stylish, and what better way to do it than having at least a part of you involved in it? He'd walk proudly in his heels that you got him as a gift, and was even more ecstatic if someone complimented them, proud that your taste in fashion was appreciated by others. He'd ask to trade manicures with you for a date, where the both of you choose a nail look for each other. But if you weren't into painting nails, he'll ask you to choose a look for him instead. On special or fancy occasions, he'd often wear your fav lip combo or makeup look, as he treasures your choices and views them as something precious and only to be used when necessary.

—TOMA HIRAGI would pull up to the function wearing either a Hello Kitty or Kuromi tee under his gakuran jacket. Was it his personal choice to do it? Clearly not. Was it his choice to willingly wear it for the sake of his beloved significant other? Very much so. After many attempts of pleading, he caved in and (begrudgingly) agreed to your whole ‘matching outfits’ idea. He ate a pill or two when he saw how he looked in the mirror. Then ate two more when he finally appeared in public, especially at how much Umemiya and the others teased him for it. It was embarrassing, but was it worth it? No questions needed. The beaming smile you immediately wore when seeing him agree to your shenanigans, was enough proof that it was all – undoubtedly – worth it.

—YAMATO ENDO would revel in the feeling of being the center of your attention as you placed stickers and colored in his tattoos or drew silly doodles along his body. He liked the feeling of flexing himself while having you express your inner artist onto him. He'd think of himself as your muse; the art and the artist. Once you were done, he'd be extremely careful with doing activities, afraid of your artwork smudging off at the slightest touch. Even during the shower, he makes sure not to wipe it with full pressure. He considered turning it into an actual tattoo, really. Because it would mean that he'd get to keep something of yours to be a part of him, eternally.

—CHIKA TAKIISHI would let you do his hair as you please. He was one to outright reject the idea of someone touching him, but you – you had the privilege to do as you please to him without him raising a finger to stop you. You had him wrapped around your delicate fingers, his head leaning into your touch as you smoothly ran your hands through his long locks of red that met its ends with yellow. When he saw that you did your hair the same way as his, a flicker of surprise reflected on his eyes. Though he tried to come off as indifferent, he was secretly pleased to acknowledge the fact that the both of you were matching. He'd spend the whole day with you while wearing those matching hairstyles, not caring about how others would think of him. All he could focus on was how ethereal you looked in your current look. In fact, he always thought you looked beautiful in any shape and form of physical aspects.

[etheries1015]

Lilia couldn't help but notice the way this other person got...rather uncomfortably close to you, in his opinion. Almost by instinct, the fae found himself floating directly behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders with his head poking out from behind you and pressing his cheek gently against yours.

"I'm sorry, but I do believe this one is taken!" Rollo raised an eyebrow before holding up his handkerchief against his nose, scowling at the fae.

"You cannot own a human. They are not object to be had, I believe." He grumbled from behind the tissue, eying Lilia whose eyes remind bright and positive per usual. He knew it was silly to be arguing with a student of all people over the affections of his lover, but he couldn't help but feel that Rollo did not intend on backing down around you. He had a bad feeling inside of his chest, and the old general's gut feelings were never wrong.

"Ahaha!" Lilia laughed exasperatedly, "Let's go, my beloved bat," He emphasized, leading to turn you away from the obviously annoyed student in an attempt to avoid any further confrontation. You raised an eyebrow at him although allowing the fae to lead you afar.

"Are you jealous?" You cooed, Lilia raising an eyebrow at you with a smile calmly painted upon his features.

"Of course not. I am confident in our affections in one another," He confidently said.

He was not a very good liar.

It was painfully obvious the way he would always be by your side or conveniently have an excuse to pull you away whenever a conversation sparked between you and Rollo. Lilia made it a point to distract you- handing you cute knicknacks he found in the city, feed you some local bread while staring Rollo down, and overall be...well, petty, for lack thereof better words. It was constant, all day. He was clinging to you and showing a side to him you have not seen before.

Upon returning to the chambers that you shared with your lover, Lilia took the opportunity to push you against the bed and nuzzle himself into your warmth. You could feel the guilt radiating off of him, the fae groaning in annoyance.

"That was unbecoming of a fae my age," He murmured, "The things you do to me, little bat..." You let out a hearty laugh and raised your eyebrows at your lover, playfully hitting him on his back.

"Don't blame me for your possessiveness! But I don't really blame you. I could tell Rollo harbored some sort of crush on me, and I was kind of put off at his side comments about magic users and fae. So I guess your actions were justified. Although..." You pulled him away from his hug and looked him in the eyes, "I would think my boyfriend would have more faith in me."

"Oh hush your squabbling, admit it, you were smitten with my outward displays of affection~" You smiled playfully and looked away from him, pretending to be in thought and humming thoughtfully.

"Hmmm... I suppose I did," You looked back at him with a toothy grin, "It was cute." Lilia let out an amused chuckle before capturing your lips with his own, pushing you back down to the bed and placing himself on top of you.

"Faes love tends to be intense, you know. Such is their jealousy," He said to you with his forehead pressed against your own, staring lovingly into your eyes, "Best prepare yourself, my darling." He swooped in for another kiss.

"So you admit you were jealous?"

"Nope."

"Lilia!!" You burst out laughing as he peppered your face and neck with kisses and love bites. His love was intense, but that was only one of the many things that you love about this fae <3

[bbhyeoliskooks]

"i'm not jealous!" | bsf!beomgyu

✩ genre: lots of fluff, f2l, mutual pining, musician gyu

✩ warnings: swear words, jealousy

Beomgyu had always loved you. It was quite obvious to everyone that saw the two of you, but somehow your eyes were always clouded to his true feelings. At first he became friends with you to see if he stood any chance- kind of shitty of him to be honest and he knew that- but now, your friendship bloomed into something deeper, a bond that people could only wish they had.

Whenever someone came up to you and Beomgyu, asking if you made it official since the last time they saw you, you would always wave your arms around and shake your head quickly to ward off the idea that you were more than friends. Beomgyu always wanted to say yes; after all, if people saw you two as a couple, then why couldn't you be? He guessed the biggest thing in the way was that you saw him as a best friend only, maybe even as a brother, and the thought hurt him more than anything.

Now you were sitting besides Beomgyu in his studio, as he listened over and over to the new track he made. Both him and Yeonjun were playing with different instruments, the versatile range going from a piccolo to an electric drum kit. They had been at this for hours and you were feeling left out as the friend date went from hanging out to messing around the studio. You could probably contribute more ideas, but sleep was already heavy on your eyelids. You looked blearily at them, clearing your throat in annoyance when their laughs broke the sound barrier yet again that night.

"Guys, I think I might head home. I'm a little tired, and I don't think I'm really necessary for this?" The last sentence might've sounded a little passive aggressive, but you knew they wouldn't take it that way. It was the truth after all: you were too tired and couldn't help much.

You failed to catch the disappointment on Beomgyu's falling face as he turned around to look at you.

"But Y/NNNN," he whined, "we'll be done soon! It'll just take 5 minutes. Plus, I-uh we need you." I need you, he thought silently, almost blurting the wrong words out. The frown on his face was big as he accentuated it to gain pity points. You rolled your eyes, smiling at both his playfulness and how badly he wanted you there.

Yeonjun sat up from his chair and glanced at you as he shuffled his weight to the right side.

"Sorry, Y/N. We got a good idea for a song and can't walk you out now" he paused for a second to look at the glistening watch on his wrist, "but if you want, I could grab you some coffee? That'll keep you up for longer probably."

Yeonjun's kindness and the thought of coffee made you smile. Coffee sounded glorious at that very moment and Yeonjun was an angel for coming up with that idea so quickly. If not, you would definitely fall asleep on the firm and uncomfortable couch you were sitting on.

"Okay, thanks! Just grab my usual, okay?"

He smiled at you, a glint of mischief in his eyes, "of course!" Beomgyu watched the two of you quietly, his eyes glancing between your face and Yeonjun's for a hint of romance or perhaps hopefully that nothing was there at all. Nothing was there, right? He felt sick to his stomach as he heard you humming happily from the grey couch.

The room, now enveloped in thickened silence, surprised you. At this time, Beomgyu would be yapping your ear off about some of the instruments he found in the studio. Now that he was silent, the atmosphere felt incredibly awkward. You stopped humming and looked up to see Beomgyu with a clenched jaw looking down at the floor.

"Gyu," you whispered, deciding to take Yeonjun's seat in lieu of the boy who was grabbing your coffee, "what's wrong? You're never this silent." You smoothed out your bottoms, hoping you'd feel more comfortable. It just didn't feel right that Beomgyu wasn't initiating the conversation.

His face was still unreadable as he looked at the floor, counting the tiles, "he knows your usual? I thought I only knew your usual." His tone of his voice was rough and ragged, a feeling that you couldn't put your finger on. You were more confused than anything.

"It's just coffee, Gyu?" you questioned, tone becoming a bit defensive, "you know lots of things about me that he doesn't know about, if you're worried." In your opinion, it was a silly thing to worry about. Unfortunately for your heart, Beomgyu was your best friend. Since he only saw you platonically, the two of you were great friends. Yeonjun was just a close friend and besides, you and Beomgyu were closer. Why he was upset about this- it didn't make sense.

He gasped exasperatedly, now looking at you. You could see fire behind his eyes as he pursed his lips, "But coffee is a big deal! You don't understand, Y/N."

"... I clearly don't. Why is it a big deal?" You questioned again, but he didn't answer. Well, he didn't want to answer.

You tried again, prodding into him, but he was as closed off as ever. "What is this about?"

Then an idea flew into your head. No way... it couldn't be, but... it was right there all along. You started to laugh to yourself to which Beomgyu cocked his head at. You probably looked insane.

"Don't tell me..." you giggled, feeling giddy, "are you jealous, Gyu?" An inkling of hope ignited in your heart, hoping, praying that maybe he saw you in a different light now.

Beomgyu became defensive, furrowing his eyebrows and pouting. "I'm not jealous!" His voice turned quiet this time, as if he was whispering to the side. "Why would I be jealous?"

You grinned, motioning him to continue his thought process. "I don't know! You tell me!"

Beomgyu sighed, no longer able to fight the battle in his head of whether he should tell you or not. His deep brown eyes, now desperate and searching for yours, told you everything that you needed to know, alongside his faltering, weak voice.

"Because I only want you. Only you. Why can't you see that? I've always wanted you, but you never saw it."

You smiled, feeling adrenaline and excitement rush to your heart. You gently cupped Beomgyu's face in an attempt to bring him closer, his eyes widening as he tried to comprehend what was happening...

That night Beomgyu ended up with way too many kisses that made him super smitten. Yeonjun was incredibly confused when he came back to the studio, seeing Beomgyu in a heap of smiles and imaginary hearts floating beside him, alongside you who kept giggling every couple of seconds seeing your now boyfriend in such weak behavior.

Yes, Beomgyu has always wanted you. But now, he's got you and there was no need for him to be jealous anymore, knowing that you loved him too.

released: August 17, 2024 (12:20am CT)

thoughts: it's been 28 days since i've posted so i decided to hustle and work on anything that came to mind. the ending is abrupt, so i apologizeeee, this was super sweet though, i was kicking my feet while writing teehee

tags:

[kaleldobrev]

Yes Ma’am

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Plus!Size Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben, Hughie Campbell, William Butcher & Annie January

Summary: Macho Man Ben never thought he’d ever take orders from a woman; but now he does so with a smile (aka Ben is whipped and he doesn’t care)

Original Request: @spncupcake | I need a Soldier Boy &/or Dean fic where reader is plus sized + gives his attitude right back to him. He only ever listens to her & agrees with her every time. Basically just a whipped little puppy. Everyone teases him, but he doesn’t care because his girl/reader is all he needs 😭 I guess kinda like he’s an asshole to everyone but her kinda vibes 🥵

Not so subtly asking if @kaleldobrev could do this ? 🥺

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Ben, Cursing (13x), Derogatory Language (by Ben), Slightly Offensive Language (by Ben), Whipped!Soldier Boy, Domestic!Ben

Authors Note: Hopefully I got everyone tagged that wanted to be. If I missed you, I'm sorry! I'm working on re-doing the way my tag list is | I hope this came out okay! ♡ | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

A Few Years Ago…

“We need someone to watch Mister Radioactive over here,” Butcher said to you and Hughie. And almost as if it was second nature, Hughie whipped out his hands into a rock, paper, scissors stance; eyes on you, because he knew for a fact that it was either going to be you or him to watch Ben.

You turned your head slightly, watching Ben drinking out of a Seven merch cup, as he watched an old movie of his on the television; scoffing every few seconds every time a member of Payback appeared on screen.

“Can’t believe these are the bozos that gave me up to the Commies. They can’t even make their fucking cues,” he scoffed, mumbling to himself.

Turning back, you looked at Hughie and placed your hand on top of his, pushing it away. “I can do it. No need for rock, paper, scissors,” you said.

Both Butcher and Hughie looked at you with slight confusion. “Really?” The two men said at the same time, exchanging glances before ultimately landing on you.

“Are you at least going to take some Temp V just in case?” Hughie asked; but Butcher didn’t seem amused by his suggestion, as he gave him a very dirty, displeased look as if to say, ‘That is the stupidest fucking thing you’ve ever said.’ “He could kill you.”

“I doubt that he would. I mean, look at him. He’s literally just watching one of his old cheesy movies. ‘Sides, I’m the only person he remotely listens to anyway,” your tone slightly smug in nature. But your comment caused Butcher to scoff. “What?”

“Sweetheart, he doesn’t listen to anyone,” he stated, not even trying to be covert.

You raised a brow. “Oh really?” You crossed your arms and smirked. “Hey Ben? Can you turn down the volume a bit? It’s a little loud,” you said, without even looking at him.

In a matter of seconds, Butcher and Hughie watched Ben pick up the remote that was next to him on the armrest as he slowly started turning down the volume. “Better?” He asked, unfazed.

“Yes, thank you,” you smiled.

Butcher scoffed. “I’m sure he’d turn it down if me or Hughie asked him to.”

“Then why don’t you give it a try to try and prove me wrong.” Your voice was smug, and your smirk remained, as you knew for an absolute fact that Ben wouldn’t listen to either one of them.

Butcher smacked Hughie, and pointed to Ben. “Um…hey, can you…can you turn that down?” Hughie asked nervously.

“Fuck off,” was all Ben said to Hughie’s request. His comment caused Butcher to roll his eyes.

“Fine. But don’t come crying to one of us when he ain’t listenin’ to ya,” Butcher smirked.

Present Day…

“Ben?” You asked, trying your best to reach the plate from the top shelf, but it was just out of your reach.

“Yeah?” Ben asked, faintly in the distance.

“Need your help! Can’t reach!” You yelled back.

Within a few seconds you heard Ben come walking into the kitchen from behind you; a faint scoff could be heard from his lips. “You’re so fucking short,” he commented. You turned around, and glared at him; and he knew exactly what that look from you meant. “Sorry, sorry,” he said, not meaning his apology whatsoever. “Now scoot,” his tone a little demanding.

You moved over, and watched him effortlessly reach the plate from the top shelf, handing it to you with the biggest smirk on his face. As you went to reach for the plate, he snatched it quickly away. “What do you say?” He smirked; his comment causing your eyes to roll.

“Thank you,” you said, your tone matching his sorry. Again, you reached for the plate, and yet, he still kept it from your reach. “Oh, how could I ever forget!?” Your voice now sarcastic, with a mix of annoyance. You went onto your tippy toes to the best of your ability, and he leaned down a bit to reach your lips, where you were able to give him a quick peck.

“That’s better,” he winked, handing you the plate.

“Remember, Annie and Hughie are coming over later,” you reminded. You didn’t have to look in Ben’s direction to know how much he hated the idea of the two of them coming over. “It’ll be fun.”

“Fun for you, torture for me,” he said, walking back into the living room and plopping onto the couch.

“They aren’t that bad Ben,” you said as you went to lean in the doorway that was between the kitchen and the living room. “‘Sides, I thought the three of you were finally finding some common ground?”

Ben scoffed. “Common ground my ass,” he mumbled. “I hate them, and they hate me.”

“They don’t hate you Ben, you just think that they do,” you tried to reassure. And your reassurance was genuine as you knew that neither Annie or Hughie hated Ben. Yes, maybe they disliked him a bit cause he was still a Grade A asshole to anyone but you, but they do what friends do and have supported yours and Ben’s relationship because they know how happy not only you are, but Ben is even if he didn’t show it in front of them.

Ben didn’t even answer you, he just simply scoffed again. “Can you still do the ribs for tonight please? I mean I can do the grill, but I much prefer when you make them,” you said sweetly.

Ben rolled his eyes, sighing. “Yes, I can still do the fucking ribs.”

A Few Hours Later…

“Are you sure that it’s too late to cancel?” Hughie asked, as him and Annie shut their car doors at the exact same time.

“Yes, we promised Y/N weeks ago that we’d come over,” Annie said. “Besides, I even made my Nana’s pecan pie for the occasion because Y/N mentioned that Ben likes it.”

“If you’re hoping for brownie points with Solider Boy, I’m not sure pie is going to do it. Maybe we should have brought some expired Aspirin or coke from CIA lockup,” Hughie said half joking.

“Very funny,” Annie said very unamused by her fiancés comment. “I’m sure tonight won’t be that bad.”

“At least one of us is positive,” Hughie replied.

There was a knock at the door, and your face lit up with excitement. “Ben? Can you grab the door please? I’m taking the pie out of the oven!” You called out as you started opening up the oven door.

“Sure thing!” Ben called out in a weirdly good mood sounding voice that threw you off. Yes you’ve heard him in a good mood before (he’s basically always in a good mood whenever you were around), but you were surprised just now because Annie and Hughie weren’t particularly his favorite people (or so he says). But you shrugged it off, happy that maybe he changed his mind about them.

As soon as Ben opened the door, his once calm and cheerful mood diminished once he saw Annie and Hughie at the door. “Lite Brite. Pussy. Welcome,” Ben said, in the most monotone voice he could muster up.

“I brought my Nana’s pecan pie,” Annie smiled, showing Ben the foil wrapped container. “Heard it was your favorite.”

“Y/N already made one,” Ben scoffed. Annie lowered the container in a kind of defeated way before she looked over at Hughie.

“Thanks for having us.” Hughie tried his best to sound genuine, but he knew that Ben would be able to hear right through it.

“If it were up to me, neither one of you would be here.” Ben’s tone continued to be monotone.

“I’m gonna go see if Y/N needs any help,” Annie offered. But before she could even enter the doorway, Ben stopped her, and took the pie from her hands, giving her a small nod. Was that…approval? Annie thought. No, I must be delusional, she thought again.

As Annie managed to get past Ben after her pie was taken from her, it was Hughie’s turn to try and get inside, but Ben blocked the way. “Sorry, I don’t have a pie to offer you,” Hughie chuckled.

Ben fake laughed, and placed his hand on Hughie’s shoulder. “No problem, pal,” emphasizing the word as he gave his shoulder a slight squeeze.

“Ow,” Hughie mumbled.

“Fucking pussy,” Ben mumbled, before letting Hughie come into the house.

“So, what did he call you two this time?” You asked, grabbing two white claws from the fridge for you and Annie.

“Lite Brite and Pussy,” she slightly chuckled. “Not really creative.”

“Ben’s not really the creative type,” you laughed back.

“So, tell me, have you and Hughie set a wedding date yet?” You asked, and Annie smiled.

“So, we haven’t set a wedding date yet,” Hughie said, his voice nervous as he watched Ben start flipping through channels trying to find something to watch.

“And why the fuck are you telling me?” Ben asked, finally deciding on a hockey game to watch.

“I uh, I figured Y/N mentioned it to you,” his voice still nervous.

“She did,” was all Ben said, taking a sip of beer.

“Jesus Christ, it’s like talking to a brick wall,” Hughie mumbled to himself. “I’m gonna go see Y/N and Annie.”

“Alright lady boy,” Ben mumbled not so subtly.

“I’m O for two,” Hughie said as he walked into the kitchen where you and Annie were.

“What was the other one?” You asked.

“Lady Boy,” Hughie said, his voice weirdly calm.

“Well, that’s a new one,” you remarked, taking a sip of your white claw. “Ben?”

“What?” Ben asked, clearly annoyed.

“Did you call Hughie, Lady Boy?” You asked.

“Yeah, what about it? Is he crying about it already?” Ben asked, still unfazed; but you could hear a slight smirk on his lips.

“No, was just wondering,” you said.

That’s when Ben sighed. Because the only reason he knew you were asking, was because he somehow did or said something he wasn’t supposed to. But it wasn’t his fault that his girlfriend’s friend always took things the wrong way and didn’t have a sense of humor. “Sorry Puss—Hughie,” Ben said, saying Hughie’s name through gritted teeth.

After Ben apologized (fakely), you turned your attention back to Hughie. “I think that’s the best one you’re gonna get.”

“Pain in my fucking ass,” Ben mumbled.

“What did you say?” You asked, although you heard him loud and clear, as his mumbling and whispering really weren’t low.

“I said, you’re a pain in my fucking ass,” Ben said at normal volume.

You cleared your throat before you spoke. “Come again?” Your tone in full sass mode.

“Fucking Christ,” he mumbled. “I said I love you.”

“I love you too!” You smirked, finishing your white claw.

“Butcher was right. Soldier Boy really is whipped,” Hughie said with slight amusement in his voice.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Ben asked, his tone aggressive as he looked over at Hughie. Hughie’s demeanor now changed, and it resembled that of a scared puppy.

“N-nothing. I said nothing,” he answered quickly and nervously.

“That’s what I fucking thought,” Ben smirked, giving him a quick nod before looking back at the hockey game. “Four and zero, fucking unbelievable.”

“You didn’t say anything wrong. I really do have him wrapped around my finger,” you whispered to Hughie, even though you knew Ben was still able to hear you.

Tagging: @spncupcake | @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx | @pleasantlycrazyworld | @pichipachini | @deanwinchestersgirl8734 | @deanbrainrotwritings | @rachiem4-blog | @syrma-sensei | @justletmereadfanfic | @deans-daydream | @midorimachisenpaii | @anamiad00msday | @beansproutmafia | @uncle-eggy | @zombie-freak | @queenie32 | @grx-deanslovr | @livingordeadwhoknows | @ficmesideways | @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden | @the-achievementhunter | @k-slla | @mrlonelycat | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @ladysparkles78 | @jackles010378 | @zepskies | @roseblue373 | @mrsjenniferwinchester | @globetrotter28 | @missscarlettangel | @foxyjwls007 | @nancymcl | @jacklesbrainworms |

If I missed you, my apologies! I was either not able to tag you because the tumblr username is no longer the one you use when you submitted a tag form, or you do not have your mentions on. Please make sure you’re able to be tagged so you don’t miss anything you’d like to be tagged on! 💙 I also in the process of re-doing my tag list, so stay tuned for that!

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

Lucifer x Reader - Sleep Talking (NSFW)

Sleeping in the same bed as Lucifer took some getting used to, to say the least

Not that you didn't love it, the act gave you a feeling of comfort you never had before

But his sleeping habits were a bit strange, but adorable nonetheless

This man would cling to you all throughout the night, gripping any part of you he could

You didn't mind, you liked being as close to him as possible, and cuddling with him was one of your favorite things

Sometimes Lucifer had a lot of trouble sleeping and stay awake far longer than he should

You would catch him humming to himself as he played with your hair

You weren't going to tell him he'd woken you up, it's not like you couldn't spend all day catching up on some sleep; plus it made your heart flutter when he was so tender with you

But the most consistent thing that Lucifer would do is talk in his sleep

Typically you couldn't make out anything he was saying, it was mostly just mumbles and random small noises

Sometimes he would toss and turn while he would talk; you always wondered what he could be dreaming about

But one night, you heard him call your name, clear as day

"Lucifer?" you asked as you turned to face him

But when you looked over, his eyes were shut, his chest rising and falling at an even pace; he was still asleep

His body twitched slightly as he continued to call out your name but you noticed his tone had gotten a little more...sensual

Small moans mixed in with your name, little gasps of air as his head began to shift back and forth; a few obscenities found their way into his speech

"F-Fuck...oh my God...s-shit..." he all but whispered

Oh...OH you thought to yourself; you think you knew what was happening but you wanted to make sure just in case

Gently you pulled back the covers and your suspicions were proven correct; you could make out a very clear outline of his cock pushing through his briefs with a very prominent wet spot near the tip

He was having a wet dream about you

You couldn't help but blush at the thought; what you wouldn't give to be inside his head right now

But why would you want that when you could make it a reality

You placed a hand on his shoulder and shook him gently as not to startle him awake "Lucifer, honey, wake up."

Slowly his eyes peeled open; he looked up at your reddened face and smiled

"Love, what's wrong? Is something the matter?"

"You uhh, you were talking in your sleep again."

"Oh. Oh dear, I'm sorry, did I wake you up?"

"Kind of...you called out my name a few times."

"I did?"

You chuckled lightly and nodded, "I'm guessing it was a good dream based on...that."

You pointed to his crotch where he finally noticed his hard on; Lucifer's face immediately flushed yellow

"O-Oh, yeah I uhh...I'm sorry, that's...kind of embarrassing."

You cut him off when your hand began to trail down his stomach and stopped at the hem of his shorts; Lucifer gulped

"Why don't you tell me what you were dreaming about, Lucifer~"

You hand slipped past the band and gingerly began stroking his cock that was now at full mast

"Sweetheart, p-please I-HNNGG..." Lucifer gripped the sheets below him as you continued to run your hand up and down his shaft at an agonizingly slow pace

"If you tell me, maybe I can make your dream come true. Would you like that?"

Lucifer's head shook furiously as he brought one of his hands to your entrance, wanting to make you feel as good as you were making him

"Y-You...fuck...you were on top of me...riding me..." Lucifer breath hitched as your hand begam to move faster against him.

He worked his fingers inside you easily, feeling how slick you already were just from his touches

You smiled wickedly at him, "Then lay down and let me take care of you, baby.~"

You spent no time at all climbing on top of your lover and sinking yourself down on his aching cock

Your moans filled the once quiet room as you began to lift your hips and sink back down on him; slowly at first but quickening with every movement

Lucifer hands flew to your hips as he tried to ground himself, his nails digging into your supple flesh

"H-How's this feel, Luci, just l-like your dream?~"

"N-No, even better...s-so much better, darling. You're...s-shit...you're perfect..."

Lucifer helped you along when you felt your legs getting tired, lifting you up and and slamming you back down on his length with ease

Not even a minute passed before you cried out in ecstasy, reaching your orgasms together; his cum painting your gummy walls white while you clenched around his thick cock

You collapsed on top of him, both of your breathing ragged and heavy

"M-Maybe I should just fall asleep like this, with you still inside me" you teased, "just in case you have any more dreams tonight.~"

Lucifer smiled and wrapped his arms around you. "I would love nothing more, my angel.~"

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Drabble List #8

75 prompts to write drabbles or longer stories.

"Just one of those days, I guess."

"This makes it easier to identify them."

"Have you ever had friendship bracelets?"

"Feel free to walk all over me."

"You're the one stirring the pot."

"I feel like you don't actually believe me."

"What a tragedy this is."

"This will be permanent."

"Oh well, nothing I can do about it now."

"The media is lying to you - and so is everyone else."

"Just gonna pretend I didn't hear that."

"Silly me to assume you would care."

"You should clean the mess you make."

"My life is amazing, it really is."

"Nothing to complain here."

"I can't believe that we finally made it."

"Thank you so much for this opportunity."

"Mark my words, this will not end cute."

"Have you looked in the mirror lately?"

"You look hot, mama."

"Can you bail me out? Please?"

"What a silly thing to say."

"So, this is it? Really?"

"It will never be truly over."

"That is a fascinating tattoo that you have."

"You're going to jail for this."

"What a dramatic exit."

"I know your friends."

"A seat will be assigned to you shortly."

"Here is a list of all the ways you are wrong."

"We should talk about what happened."

"Do you have your ticket ready?"

"I'm sorry, but our personal goals just don't match up."

"The boxes are all labeled incorrectly."

"Well, you should've listened to me."

"Tragic. That outfit is a disaster."

"I'm sitting front row. I always do."

"Oh you silly little thing."

"What is your star sign?"

"I'm not who you think I am."

"Can't say I'm that surprised."

"Truly legendary."

"Please, sing for me!"

"You are a true party pooper."

"No means don't even try."

"I want to find my soulmate."

"Just forget what you heard."

"Why does this always happen to me?"

"Let's go out for a cheap dinner."

"I don't want to hear about it."

"This must be a joke. Not very good one."

"A list of all the times I was right."

"I can't control my dreams."

"Finally, some common sense."

"Throw me under the bus while you're at it."

"What a wonderful surprise."

"Poor judgement is what it is."

"I was just defending myself."

"Fine, but this will be the last time."

"Oh, that's too bad."

"I will take that as a yes."

"Did we meet before?"

"Sell me your story."

"What's the point in all of this?"

"I couldn't see what actually happened."

"Can you lend me some money?"

"So start from the beginning."

"Truly, a flawless plan."

"I haven't done this in forever."

"Let's have some fun."

"What an icon."

"Make me believe it."

"It's an investment."

"There will be an extra fee included."

"Let's go back. Nothing to do here anymore."

Drabble Masterlist

Have fun creating and writing!

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee! And check out my Instagram! 🥰

[santacoppelia]

Putting the Meta in "Metatron"

(couldn't resist the pun, sorry)

Ok, this has been tickling my brain for a while. I've been thinking about how The Metatron designed his role and discourse specifically to manipulate Aziraphale into the end result we saw in the last minutes of S2. I become obsessed with it because… well, I'm a bit obsessive, but also because there were many really smart writing decisions that I loved (even when I despise The Metatron exactly for the same reasons. Hate the character, love the writer). If you haven't watched Good Omens Season 2, this is the moment to stop reading. Come back later!

We already know that in Book Omens, the role of Gabriel in the ending was occupied by The Metatron. Of course, the series introduced us to Gabriel and we won a lot by that, but I feel that the origins of The Metatron should be considered for any of this. He is not a "sweet old man": he was the one in charge of seeing over the operation of Armageddon; not just a stickler of rules, but the main promoter for it.

However, when he appears in the series finale, we first are primed to almost pass him by. He is in the line for buying coffee, using clothes that are:

obviously not tailored (almost ill fitted)

in dark tones

looking worn and wrinkled

This seems so important to me! All the angels we have seen are so proud of their aspect, wear clear (white or off white) clothes, pressed, impeccable (even Muriel), even when they visit the Earth (which we have already seen on S1 with all the visits to the bookshop). The Metatron chose a worn, comfortable attire, instead. This is a humanized look, something that fools all the angels but which would warm up someone very specific, can you guess?

After making quite a complicated coffee order (with sort of an affable and nervous energy), he makes a question that Crowley had already primed for us when asking Nina about the name of the coffee: having a "predictable" alternative and an unpredictable one.

This creates an interesting parallel with the next scene: Michael is discussing the possibility of erasing Aziraphale from The Book of Life (a punishment even worse than Holy Water on demons, because not having existed at all, EVER is definitely worse than having existed and ceased to exist at some point) when The Metatron arrives, interrupts the moment and signals having brought coffee. Yup, an amicable gesture, but also a "not death" offering that he shows clearly to everyone (even when Michael or Uriel do not understand or care for it. It wasn't meant for them). He even dismisses what Michael was saying as "utter balderdash" and a "complete piffle", which are the kind of outdated terms we have heard Aziraphale use commonly. So, The Metatron has put up this show for a specific audience of one.

The next moment on the script has Metatron asking Crowley for the clarification of his identity. Up to this moment, every angel has been ignoring the sprawled demon in the corner while discussing how to punish Aziraphale… But The Metatron defers to the most unlikely person in the room, and the only one who will push any buttons on Aziraphale: Crowley. After that, Aziraphale can recognize him, and Metatron dismisses the "bad angels" (using Aziraphale's S1 epithet) with another "catchy old phrase", "spit spot", while keeping Muriel at the back and implying that there is a possibility to "check after" if those "bad angels" have done anything wrong.

Up to this moment, he has played it perfectly. The only moment when he loses it is when he calls Muriel "the dim one", which she ignores… probably because that's the usual way they get talked to in Heaven. I'm not sure if Aziraphale or Crowley cared for that small interaction, but it is there for us (the audience) to notice it: the sympathy the character might elicit is built and sought, but he is not that nice.

After that, comes "the chinwag" and the offer of the coffee: the unnecessarily complicated order. It is not Aziraphale's cup of tea (literally), but it is so specific that it creates some semblance of being thought with care, and has a "hefty jigger" of syrup (again with the funny old words). And, as Aziraphale recognizes, it is "very nice!" (as The Metatron "jolly hoped so"), and The Metatron approves of him drinking it by admitting he has "ingested things in my time, you know?". This interaction is absolutely designed to build a bridge of understanding. The Metatron probably knew that the first response he would get was a "no", so he tailored his connection specifically to "mirror" Aziraphale: love of tasty human treats he has also consumed, funny old words like the ones he loves, a very human, worn, well-loved look. That was the bait for "the stroll": the moment when Aziraphale and Crowley get separated, because The Metatron knew that being close to Crowley, Aziraphale would have an hypervigilant soundboard to check the sense of what he was going to get offered. That's what the nasty look The Metatron gives to Crowley while leaving the bookshop builds (and it gets pinpointed by the music, if you were about to miss it).

The next thing we listen from The Metatron is "You don't have to answer immediately, take all the time you need" in such a friendly manner… we can see Aziraphale doubting a little, and then comes the suggestion: "go and tell your friend the good news!". This sounds like encouragement, but is "the reel". He already knows how Crowley would react, and is expecting it (we can infer it by his final reaction after going back for Aziraphale after the break up, but let's not get ahead of ourselves shall we?). He even can work up Muriel to take care of the bookshop while waiting for the catch.

What did he planted in Aziraphale's mind? Well, let's listen to the story he has to tell:

"I don't think he's as bad a fellow… I might have misjudged him!" — not strange in Aziraphale to have such a generous spirit while judging people. He's in a… partnership? relationship? somethingship? with a demon! So maybe first impressions aren't that reliable anyway. The Metatron made an excellent job with this, too.

"Michael was not the obvious candidate, it was me!" — This idea is interesting. Michael has been the stickler, the rule follower, even the snitch. They have been rewarded and recognized by that. Putting Aziraphale before Michael in the line of succession is a way of recognizing not only him, but his system of values, which has always been at odds with the main archangels (even when it was never an open fight).

"Leader, honest, don't tell people what they want to hear" — All these are generic compliments. The Metatron hasn't been that aware of Aziraphale, but are in line with what would have been said of any "rebel leader". They come into context with the next phrase.

"That's why Gabriel came to you, I imagine…" — I'm pretty sure The Metatron didn't imagine this, ha. He is probably imagining that the "institutional problem" is coalescing behind his back, and trying to keep friends close, but enemies closer… while dividing and conquering. If Gabriel rebelled, and then went searching for Aziraphale (and Crowley, they are and item and he knows it), that might mean a true risk for his status quo and future plans.

Heaven has great plans and important projects for you — this is to sweeten the pot: the hefty jigger of almond syrup. You will be able to make changes! You can make a difference from the inside! Working for an old man who feels strangely familiar! And who recognizes your point of view! That sounds like the best job offer of the world, really.

Those, however, are not the main messages (they are still building good will with Aziraphale); they are thought out to build the last, and more important one:

Heaven is well aware of your "de facto partnership" with Crowley…

It would be considered irregular if you wanted to work with him again…

You, and you alone, can bring him to Heaven and restore his full angelic status, so you could keep working together (in very important projects).

Here is the catch. He brought the coffee so he could "offer him coffee", but the implications are quite clear: if you want to continue having a partnership with Crowley, you two must come to Heaven. Anything else would be considered irregular, put them in a worst risk, and maybe, just maybe, make them "institutional enemies". Heaven is more efficient chasing enemies, and they have The Book of Life as a menace.

We already know how scared Aziraphale has always been about upsetting Heaven, but he has learned to "disconnect" from it through the usual "they don't notice". The Metatron came to tell him "I did notice, and it has come back to bite you". The implied counterpart to the offer is "you can always get death". Or even worse, nonexistence (we have already imagined the angst of having one of them condemned to that fate, haven't we?)

When The Metatron arrives, just after seeing Crowley leave the bookshop, distraught, he casually asks "How did he take it?", but he already knows. That was his plan all along: making them break up with an offer Aziraphale could not refuse, but Crowley could not accept. That's why he even takes the license to slightly badmouth Crowley: "Always did want to go his own way, always asking damn fool questions, too". He also arrive with the solution to the only objection Aziraphale would have: Muriel, the happy innocent angel that he received with so much warmth and kindness, is given the opportunity to stay on Earth, taking care of the bookshop. The only thing he would have liked to take with him is not a thing, and has become impossible.

If God is playing poker in a dark room and always smiling, The Metatron is playing chess, and he is quite good at it (that's why he loves everything to be predictable). He is menacing our pieces, and broke our hearts in the process… But I'm pretty sure he is underestimating his opponents. His awful remark of Muriel being "dim"; saying that Crowley "asks damn fool questions", and even believing that Aziraphale is just a softie that can be played like a pipe… That's why telling him the project is "The Second Coming" was an absolute gift for us as an audience, and it prefigures the downfall that is coming — the one Aziraphale, now with nothing to lose, started cooking in his head during that elevator ride (those couple of minutes that Michael Sheen gifted to all of us: the shock, the pain, the fury, and that grin in the end, with the eyes in a completely different emotion). Remember that Aziraphale is intelligent, but also fierce. Guildernstern commited a similar mistake in Hamlet, and it didn't go well:

"Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me! You would play upon me, you would seem to know my stops, you would pluck out the heart of my mystery, you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass, and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ, yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me."

I'm so excited to learn how this is going to unfold!! Because our heroes have always been very enthusiastic at creating plans together, failed miserably at executing them, and even then succeeding… But now they are apart, more frustrated and the stakes are even higher. Excellent scenario for a third act!

*exits, pursued by a bear*

[sylv-tf]

Just ReLAX

"Shit, not the fucking door too man!" cussed Connor as the door to his dorm's shared bathroom laid sideways in the frame, having just fallen off its hinges. College was supposed to be his big new start, but everything in this first day had been shit. He missed his first class going to the wrong building, had the tires on his bike stolen, and at the end of it all he had to walk back to his run-down dorm building where the hot water still wasn't working... and now the door.

"Fuck it, I'll just play some WoW or something," he said, walking over to his computer setup. Within five minutes though, he was up again, having discovered the internet connection was so bad he couldn't even log in. It was still early afternoon outside, the sunlight filtering in through the dusty window of his dorm. At the very least he could make sure he knew where his next class was, so he didn't miss it like the first one. Throwing his ratty shoes and loose-fitting knitted sweater on, he headed out the door. Thankfully this one didn't fall off like the last one, but he still just felt tense as he walked out the building's lobby and into the afternoon sun.

His dorm building sat just off the campus quad, which at this point in the day was filled with both students rushing to class and those doing anything to avoid it. As Connor walked across the cracked sidewalks that crisscrossed the green lawn he couldn't help but notice the number of guys just relaxing in the sun. It was hard not to feel outclassed, comparing his greasy brown hair, sweater, and loose jeans to their clean cuts and perms and athletic clothes that draped ever so perfectly against well-defined muscles.

Whatever, he knew he was a nerd. It was fine. Why should he care about fitting in - he didn't in high school anyways. He'd just keep on with his online friends... unless they got busy. That could be a problem. Well, he couldn't even worry about that now since the internet sucked. Maybe his suitemate would know how to fix it? No, they hadn't even moved in yet. And what are the chances they'd even speak to him after he already broke the bathroom door! Fuck, he'd have to get that fixed soon. Where was the maintenance office? Wait, no he was supposed be looking for his next cla-

WHAM

Connor felt a sharp pain on the back right of his skull and the world seemed to spin and flash white for a bit. When he finally got a hold of himself he was looking up at the sky... and there was some guy in orange and white on top of him. Was he... talking? His mouth was moving at least...

"...ro. ...ey, bro ar... ... Bro? Bro, are you okay?"

"Ugh... yeah, I guess, what happened?" replied Connor. The guy above him seemed to lean back a bit after hearing him speak. His bright ginger curls looked fiery in the sun, and dang, he was kinda built too. Was he an athlete? "Yo, I'm so sorry man. I was laxing out with my bro, Casey, and you looked like you zoned out right in the middle of our pass. Freaked me out when you just stopped moving like that, can't like."

"Oh... uh, sorry? I didn't notice I guess. Was kinda wrapped up in my own thoughts or something." Connor couldn't help but mumble. The day just couldn't get any worse could it.

Meanwhile, the ginger hunk squatting over him just turned slightly and yelled back over his shoulder, "Yo, Casey, hurry up with the ice would ya'? And grab a drink too, this guy looks like he could use it!"

He turned back to Connor now, "Nah bro, you're all good. It just happens sometimes. You seemed super stressed out so, I get it bro. Casey and I are like that too right before a big game, but then you like, lock in super hard when the whistle blows and it all washes away and shit."

Connor just stared blankly at this mystery man, clearly from a different world than his own. "Uh... right." As he sat up straight, he felt the burly hand of this ginger "bro" hold his shoulder steady, directing his gaze towards another guy, presumably Casey, jogging over with a wet-looking blue bag and a sports bottle.

"Zach, I got the stuff. How's he doing?" Casey was similarly built to the ginger guy, who Connor assumed to be Zach, but with straight brown hair, squatted down on his left and handed him the drink.

"Where does it hurt bro? We got an ice pack for you."

Sheepishly, Connor accepted the drink and started to look around. There were a few stray glances from passerby, but thankfully it didn't look like he caused a scene... "Just the back right of my head, I can get it," he replied, taking the ice pack with his free hand and holding it to his head.

The cold was sharp but quickly became soothing as it spread from the base of his neck to the rest of his head. As he took a sip of the drink too, he found it tasted oddly good. There was a distinctive metallic note to it, but mostly it was a fruit punch flavor with lots of pineapple and orange. Before he knew it, Connor had downed the whole bottle.

"Fuck, that tasted really good? What is that anyways?"

Casey spoke up, "It's Coach's recipe for the lax team. Gatorade but with his special blend of electrolytes and shit, more or less."

"Huh, so you guys play... lax? Is that a sport, I guess?"

Zach and Casey laughed. "Lacrosse bro. It's sick, you ever played?"

"Nah, look at me man. I haven't played anything in my life." Zach seemed to give the faintest smirk to Casey. "You sure bro?" At this point he began to stand up, and with Casey lifted Connor up by his arms. "I've got a hard time believing someone with these arms doesn't at least work out."

Connor glanced down at his arms. They didn't look particularly built. Well, were they always that tan? He moved them up and down, flexing them a bit. They weren't as twiggy as he thought they were... huh.

"Nah, I really didn't play anything. Guess it's just natural?"

Casey responded, "Fuck bro, if that's natural you've definitely gotta lax out. Come over here."

The two athletes practically pulled Connor along towards their bags, which had been sitting out on the ground a ways away. Connor could see sticks with nets on the ends sticking out, a number of pieces of what looked like chest pads, white rubber balls (presumably what he just got hit with) and a number of other things he didn't quite recognize.

Zach, meanwhile, had already grabbed a set of pads and a stick and was heading back to Connor. "Here bro, throw this over your head," he said, tossing him the pads.

"What?"

"Just do it bro, you don't wanna get beamed with the rock again, right? Casey's got a lid for you too."

Connor looked uncertain but seeing both guys smiling was enough to win him over. "Hey," he thought, "may as well see what it's like to be an athlete for a bit." He struggled briefly with the pads before Zach helped to slide them into place over his shoulders. They felt a bit heavy, but it felt kinda nice too. He was still chilly from the ice pack and the heaviness just made him feel... calm. Or maybe just chilled out?

Casey came in quick with the helmet from the left. Connor had only caught a glimpse of it before. It looked wild, being mostly white but with burgundy and gold decals all along it. Wait... those were the university colors. Was this a helmet from the lacrosse team?

Connor took a step back from Casey. "Wait, guys, is this university property? That's a bit too much for me, I mean I'm just-"

Casey was already at his side and the helmet came down. The inside was soft, not at all what he expected from how jagged the outside looked. It was kind of dark as well, though he could see through the first gap between the bars on the front. Was he actually wearing the school helmet? Was he wearing sports gear right now? In public? What would people think?

Connor could feel and hear the two athletes still strapping on elbow pads but at the same time he felt that calm from before. Did it really matter? He was just trying it out. And the two players with him would clear up any confusion, since they seemed like bros. Yeah... this was fine actually.

He reached up to adjust his helmet a bit as Casey approached with a stick. "Here bro, just follow along with Zach and I and we'll teach you the basics. Just relax."

Connor's mind was blank. Whatever Casey and Zach said was what he did. Learning how to hold his spoon, passing around the rock, stationary at first and then while running. Somehow, no matter what he did he never felt tired. And when the group got thirsty, Coach's drink was always close at hand. As the sun began to set, Zach and Casey called it in.

Connor, like the other two, was drenched in sweat. He didn't even really remember taking his sweater and shirt off, but he must have at some point, because he was bare torso in the setting sun. But man, his body really was better than he gave it credit for. Zach had even said his genetics were crazy to have abs without working out. And Connor felt great. Amazing even! What was he even worried about earlier today? Nothing important, he was sure.

"Zach, Casey, bros. Lax is like, crazy dope dudes."

Zach was the first to reply. "Bro, it's insane you've never laxed before, you picked it up crazy fast. You should honestly talk to Coach. He's got walk-ons next week and if you work with him and us a bit more, I bet you could clinch a spot."

"No way bro, that's crazy. Play for the school? I'm not as good as you two."

Casey butted in. "Bro, you're insane for a newbie. Trust the process, bro. You'd be on in no time. In fact, we should head over now so you can meet him. Help us pack and shit, and we'll jog over. You down?" "Damn bro, really? Fuck yeah, let's do it."

----------

Needless to say, the walk-on tryouts were a bit of a blowout. With Coach's guidance, Connor was a standout performer, ready to take the field for the team and crush their opponents every time. His new shorter haircut that Coach recommended suited him, just like his new number, #17, and his new carefree, cocky attitude. And like the loyal bros they are, Zach and Casey made sure to grab a picture with their new recruit at media day.

[spiderb00]

Fam Out 3

Sophia Laforteza X Reader 

Synopsis - Your girlfriend finally finds out why she is SO delighted with your "family moments" 

Genre – Fluff 

a/n - Wow, Part 3, I guess I'll have to keep going until they actually have a family (oops, spoiler) <3  (request)

previous chapter | next chapter | F.O Masterlist

The stadium was huge, everything looked beautiful and the atmosphere was exciting. Sophia made sure you accompanied her and the Kats to watch the Rams game, and even though you knew you were going to be the photographer of the night, you wouldn't turn down a night out with your girlfriend.  

After taking several photos and record countless videos for tiktok, you were finally seated, your hands intertwined with Sophia's, watching the game. You didn't watch many games, your work took up a lot of your time, but you always liked to watch a match or two when you had free time.  

Your concentration was soon interrupted with Sophia squeezing your hand twice, and you knowing what it means, immediately looks at your girlfriend.   

"Something wrong, my love?" You say, your eyes interspersed between your beautiful girlfriend's face, and what was happening on the field.   

"Can you get more drinks for me and Yoonchae, please?" She says, leaning in and leaving a lingering kiss on your cheek, for a moment you felt dizzy.  

Reluctantly taking your eyes off the game and looking at your girlfriend's smile, you smiled and gave the Filipino girl a quick kiss on the lips. 

"Of course, beautiful." You stood up giving a friendly wink to Yoonchae, who laughed at your antics.   

Waiting for your turn to order, you notice a woman right behind you, assuming she was waiting too, you didn't worry about it, at least not until the stranger patted you twice on the back, making you look back. 

"Hello." She said.  

"Hi." you said with a polite smile, turning back to the front.    

"Ah, so..." The stranger continued, making you once again look back. "I saw you when you walked in, you're very beautiful." 

"Thank you." You said, at some point she would understand that you weren't interested in whatever she was going to say.  

"I was wondering if you don't want to finish watching the game with me and my friends?" She said biting her lower lip.   

The girl had brown hair and green eyes, she was much shorter than you, and now that you noticed, it looked like she was very close to you.   

"I don't want to, sorry, I have a girlfriend." You said, turning around again and seeing that it was your turn to order.  

You said everything you wanted and waited patiently, taking the money out of your wallet.   

"Well, I'm not seeing her here, so maybe she doesn't need to know." The girl says, putting both hands on your shoulders, making you jump and instantly take her hands off you.  

"Look..." 

"Mom, why are you taking so long? Mommy's worried about you."  

Both you and the woman looked shocked. Of course, for different reasons. The woman was shocked that you apparently had a daughter, who appeared to be a teenager, while you appeared to be only twenty or twenty-one. And you, well, you just wanted to know why the hell Yoonchae was calling you mom.   

"Oh, who are you?" Yoonchae says, looking at the woman. 

"Do you have children?" The woman asks, disturbed by the situation. 

"Yes, she does! Why? Do you think I don't look like her because I'm Asian? That's pretty racist, you know?" Yoonchae said defensively. 

Now, in this situation, you and the guy behind the counter were just watching the whole mess.   

"What's going on here?" Sophia arrives suddenly, wanting to understand the situation. 

"Mommy, this woman is hitting on mom, and she's still insinuating that I'm not your daughter!" Yoonchae said like a spoiled child, honestly, you weren't understanding anything.  

"WHAT, NO! Sorry, I didn't know she was married, and I'm not racist either. I'm sorry, I'm leaving, I'm sorry."   

The woman ran away, while Sophia and Yoonchae let out a laugh. You didn't know it before, but now you were sure you were surrounded by crazy people. Taking her drink from the tray, Yoonchae looked at you and said;  

"So "mom", what did you think of my performance?" The younger girl took a sip of her drink quietly.   

"Are you crazy? What was it all about?" You say, a laugh escaping your lips.   

"You can't think a bitch is going to hit on you and I'm not going to do anything darling." Sophia said, grabbing your cheeks with her fingernails and stealing a kiss.  

Grabbing her drink next, the Filipino girl chuckled as she walked back with Yoonchae to they places. Leaving a very perplexed Yn behind.   

"COME ON BABY, YOU'RE LOSING THE GAME!"   

It was a cold day, and after much urging from Sophia and (mostly) Yoonchae, you found yourself driving towards a store to buy Christmas decorations for the Kats' house. It was still November, but the girls were pretty excited about it (Your girls in particular). So here you were, pushing a shopping trolley that would soon be full of things chosen by the euphoric girls who walked in front of you.   

Sophia would put things she thought were beautiful in the cart, asking for your help on the shelves she couldn't reach, and even making you hold some up high to see if they matched what she was machining in her head. Meanwhile, Yoonchae disappeared and came back soon after with something completely random asking the traditional question, "Can i have this?", receiving some "yes" or "no" from Sophia.   

"Okay, what do you think of that one?" Sophia showed a small Santa, probably to put on top of some shelf.  

"He's cute." You say, making a point of paying attention to the details, after all that seemed very important to Sophia.  

"Yn, can I have this?" Yoonchae shows a simple snow globe, a small house with a few trees in the midst of a large amount of snow.   

"Of course." You say, without losing the smile that the younger girl gave you.   

After paying for things, you were heading to the car with more bags in your hands than you could count. Sophia waiting for you to leave the bags in the car so you could carry a huge, heavy box with your girls' chosen Christmas tree. Anyone looking from the outside would feel sorry for the young girl carrying so much weight, but oh man, you couldn't love it more.  

Driving home, Yoonchae slept peacefully in the back seat, while Laufey played softly through the car's speakers. Your free hand caressing Sophia's thigh while you both had the most beautiful and true smile in the whole world. 

"Are you okay?" You asked as the car pulled up to a stop.  

"Better impossible." Sophia says looking into your eyes, leaning over and stealing a kiss. 

After assembling all the decorations in the Kats' house, you finally got a rest. With the kats out and about to buy food, you and Sophia had some time to yourself. Enjoying every second with a make-out session, you had Sophia sitting on your lap, her legs on either side of your thighs, their hands ruffling your hair, while you had your hands on the Filipino girl's thighs, your back resting on the headboard.   

"I think I finally understood why I love our moments with Yoonchae so much." Sophia said, interrupting the kiss, making you lower your lips towards the black-haired girl's neck.  

"I thought it was because you loved us." You said in a playful tone, momentarily stopping the kisses and looking at the woman on top of you.  

"That too." Sophia said, rolling her eyes with a giggle. "But the main reason became very clear after the last few days." Said the Filipino girl, taking your hands and intertwining with hers.   

"And that reason is..."  You said, waiting for her to complete. 

"I want to have a family with you." She said, looking into your eyes.  

For a minute, you were speechless, but soon you regained consciousness, and with a smile on your face, kissed Sophia passionately.   

The kiss was full of love, a kiss that conveyed security, a non-verbal way of saying that the desire to have a future together was mutual. When you stopped the kiss, you saw tears in Sophia's eyes, you seemed to be hypnotized by each other, and in sync, you both thought you wanted it to last forever.   

"I want to spend every day of my life by your side, did you hear?! I want to build everything with you." You say, kissing Sophia's tears and then looking at the beautiful woman in front of you.   

"I love you, Yn!"  

"I love you much more, Sophia."   

OMG, part three, that's a lot.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, and Christmas is near, maybe some Christmas story ideas...