#but as I was looking for a reference photo with lighting that would Fit My Vision I gave up bc of I couldn't find one that wasn't generated

[asinglebluefeline]

No thoughts, just Wonder Twins <3

[kathybluecaller]

Finally got around drawing Aioros :D

[chlorinecake]

am in love w ur work<3 can u do an enha x reader ff, where they're dating a very feminine y/n who's also insecure? yk like them comforting y/n etc etc?

「 𓍯𓂃 A 𝒢UIDE TO OVERCOMING YOUR INSECURITIES 」

──── 🪽 𓂃 𓈒 step one: date 1 / 7 members of 엔하이픈

🪞 ( . . path to bookshelf ◍ ) 𓄼 be the best version of you .ᐟ g𝓮nre. fluff, comfort, est. dating, fem.r ﹙ 🧺 . . . ﹚. 美しさ skinship & kisses 350 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽s each ✩ ✩ ✩

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 for my melanated queens; “God, I look terrible in this picture,” you sighed miserably at the couple photo before you, zooming in closer on your screen to get a better look. “I'm literally lost in the background…”

“Let me see,” your boyfriend offered, bracing himself behind you as he peered over your shoulder. “Baby… you look beautiful here, what’re you talking about?” He practically chuckled, somewhat humored that you thought the picture was bad when it was clearly fine.

“I’m talking about my complexion,” you sighed, shutting off your phone out of frustration, “Maybe we should only go on dates when it’s sunny outside so I don’t look like a shadow next to you by time we take a picture…” That's when Heeseung felt his heart drop at your words, pouty lips partingas he asked, “Why would you say such a thing, ____? I love how healthy your complexion looks…”

“I know, but—”

“No buts,” he interrupted, walking from behind you and guiding your chin towards his. “Did someone say something to make you feel this way, love?” You struggled to meet his sincere doe eyes as your own weak ones were on the verge of tears.

With a crack in your voice, you finally spoke, “No, Heeseung… I’ve always felt this way, I just never said anything til now…”

“And are those insecurities motivated by your own standards or by what society has poisoned you to believe?”

You got quiet at his question, knowing deep down that you never had an issue with your skin color and that it was something the world had made you feel...

“Look at your beautiful hands in mine,” he continued, shattering your inner thoughts as he drew your attention to his hands holding yours. “Please don’t think your skin color is something we need to work around… especially not for a silly picture…”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling your stomach flutter as he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a loving kiss to your wrist. “So,” you started in a soft voice, his gentle eyes looking back up at you, “can I at least delete the picture then?”

“Fine,” Heeseung smiled through a complying breath, wiping the moisture from the corner of your eye with his thumb, “but only because I’m planning a date for us to take more photos later…”

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 for the frequent bad hair days; “Gosh, this is why I need to go bald one day,” you sulked, tossing your hairbrush to the ground in a fit of exhaustion, “otherwise, I'll never be able to make my hair look right...”

“It looks pretty to me, baby,” Jay smiled upon meeting you in the bathroom, the frustrated clatter of your hair products having caught his attention. “What style are you going for anyways?” Your boyfriend hugged you from behind, placing a tender kiss to the crown of your head.

Reaching for your phone that sat on the bathroom vanity, you showed it to Jay. “Here’s the reference picture,” you sighed, feeling yourself calm down slightly as he held you in his arms, “I just have so many fly-aways today that the gel won’t even hold them in place...”

Jay's eyes scanned your reflection in the mirror, comparing it back and forth to the reference photo, “Easy fix, princess. We’ll just have to buy better products.”

“But it’s not just that… my split ends—”

“Then I’ll schedule you an appointment at the salon today…”

Your shoulders fell at your boyfriend's words. You knew he was only trying to make things better, but you still felt insecure. “Hey, look at me ____,” he whispered, voice light as a feather as he caressed your side, “my girl always deserves the best... especially if it’ll make her feel better about herself… got it?”

A smile spread across your face as Jay's fingers playfully tickled your waist.

In reality, no, you couldn’t get your hair right every time, but the hair you had suited you best, and simply required a little more tender love and care…

“Sooo, no salon date today?” He asked, watching your features.

You scoffed at his question, “No, we’re definitely still going… I’ll just make sure to embrace my natural hair this time.”

“And as you should, baby,” Jay smirked, kissing you one last time before his hands left your side, “I’ll go get the car keys...”

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 for the curvy girls; “Whatchya lookin' for?” Jake asked from the bed, watching as you searched through your shared drawers for anything big enough to swamp your entire body. “I’m too big for all of my clothes now, so I need to find something that's large but still cute...”

“Oh...” your boyfriend's voice trailed off as he got out of bed to meet you on the floor. “That’s why I always let you wear my hoodies, baby. Here,” he offered, pulling the white hoodie over his head and revealing a bit of his toned stomach before he shimmyied the oversized hoodie over your head. “So... can I cuddle with my adorable girlfriend all day like we planned now?”

You blushed slightly at his compliment, taking Jake's hand in yours as he helped you up from the ground, “Yes, but only if you promise not to put your hands on my stomach like you usually do...”

His eyes widened at your odd request, “I thought you liked it when I cuddled your tummy?”

He pulled you against his chest, but the physical contact only made you squirm with discomfort, “Please don’t call it that, baby…” The words left your mouth with such pain, his heart sinking at the sad look that washed over your features…

“I don’t get it ____, what’s going on?” Your boyfriend pressed with concern, releasing you from his hold to simply hold your hands.

“It's not like you'd understand where I’m coming from anyways...”

He frowned at your words, just as you watched with weak eyes while he pulled out a top from your drawer, holding it before your eyes. “You see this? You’re not too big for your clothes, but your clothes are too small for you…”

“Yea, but I used to be able to fit all of those…” You sulked in defense.

“And your body is just going through a normal change and has granted you with gorgeous curves… all we have to do now is accommodate for them..”

You thought on his words for a moment, a feeling of guilt washing over you after you realized you'd snapped on him earlier when he was only trying to help.

He placed a gentle kiss to your forehead, pulling you back into his warmth before whispering, “Please, be more kind to your body, okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded with a sniffle, tightening your arms around him.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 for the giggles often hidden behind one’s palm; You and Sunghoon were sitting on the couch in your shared apartment living room, legs intertwined in a string of flesh like always as and it was your turn to laugh when your boyfriend retold one of the craziest stories from his prior days as an Italian restaurant waiter.

“And the guy had such a nerve to order 150 bucks worth of steak to then leave a measly fifty cent tip…” his voice trailed off, smiling to himself as he watched you struggle to maintain your laughter, a shy hand flying to cover your mouth.

“Sorry, sorry,” you said while giggling, cheeks hurting a bit from trying to hold back your emotions, “you can continue…”

He looked at you with confusion, his thick, dark brows screwing in the center of his face, “Wait… why’re you apologizing for laughing, baby?”

“Oh…I…” you started, startled by his question, “I guess… I just don’t like hearing my laugh sometimes?… plus it makes my face scrunch up and look all weird when I smile…”

“Stop, your laugh is gorgeous and so is your smile, what’re you talking about?” He scoffed, leaning back against the arm of the couch and crossing his arms.

“You’re just saying that because you’re my boyfriend,” you sighed, untangling your legs from his and bring your knees to your chest.

“Sure, but that’s only part of the reason,” Sunghoon corrected, readjusting himself on the couch so he could be closer to you as he spoke, “it’s true, y’know?” He said before tickling your ankle, making you smile once again, “I bet that makes you feel better already, doesn’t it?”

You looked down before meeting his sincere gaze, feeling your heart flutter in your chest as he squished your face together with his hand.

“Yes… it does,” you giggled through the pouty lips his fingers forced you to make, making him chuckle a bit to himself before leaning in to peck your forehead first, then your nose, before finally, your lips…

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 for the spots makeup can't conceal; “Ugh,” you groaned with frustration, letting out a sigh as you aggressively wiped at your face with a makeup wipe, “this foundation is supposed to be full coverage!... God, now I'm gonna have to leave the house looking like a complete troll...”

“Excuse me?” Sunoo asked from beside you while adjusting his tie, a glint of amusement in his hazel eyes despite the concerned nature of his voice.

“I don't mean to be dramatic, but I swear the mirror hates me...” You exclaimed, tossing the dirty makeup wipe in the trash can while internally dreading the fact that you were having a terrible hormonal breakout today.

Sunoo's delicate hands left his neck tie to grab the package of wipes and pull out a few for you.

“The mirror has no feelings, sweetie... only you do,” your boyfriend chuckled at the pouty look on your face, guiding your head upward as he gently wiped away the remaining smears of makeup from your skin.

“Besides, you don't need to wear all this stuff anyway,” he whispered this time, the most loving look in his eyes as he caressed your cheek, “you're naturally gorgeous to me...”

He let his thumb graze over your lower lip before leaning down a little further from where he stood, pressing a tender kiss to your plush lips.

“You're lucky you didn't turn into a frog after doing that,” you giggled, playfully smacking his shoulder as you both noticed the pink hue rising to your cheeks... a hue that would've otherwise been covered by makeup.

Smiling at your words, he handed you a bar of soap and a towel, “I'm glad we don't have time for you to contour or conceal anything, so lets get the rest of this stuff off your face so we don't end up late for our date...”

You took the soap in your palms, lathering it together under the running faucet water as a new feeling arose in your chest upon looking at yourself in the mirror. No, you didn't have perfect skin, but you were still beautiful and loved, which in this moment, was all that mattered.

“Thank you, Sunny,” you said, massaging the soap into your face as he walked away from you, “I'll be out in a minute...”

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 for the hairy girls; “Shit,” you cursed under your breath while rummaging through your things. “What’s wrong, baby?” Jungwon asked, approaching you from behind with a smile on his face.

“I can’t find my razor,” you stated plainly, not even meeting his eyes as you closed the suitcase you were just searching... “Oh,” he started, cat-like eyes rounding slightly, “you can always use my razor if you want to for now then…”

“Please, I’d need like three of your razors to shave my arms properly,” you huffed, stepping out of the closet and walking toward the window, “why’d I have to be born like this?”

“Baby… don’t say that, body hair is completely normal…”

You caught a glimpse of your unibrow in the bedroom window, turning away with frustration as your sad eyes met his, “So then why doesn’t it feel normal?”

“Because, sweetie… you haven’t embraced it yet,” he continued, taking your hands in his before drawing a feather-light line from your wrist to your elbow, “your arms look fine, okay? And if anyone doesn’t agree with that, they can take it up with my taekwondo skills…”

You smiled cheekily at his words, “So… I guess that means I’m getting kicked first then, right?”

“Never,” he chuckled, pulling you closer to him, “but… I’ll be more than willing to give you a lil kissy kiss instead…”

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you felt Jungwon snuggle his face into the crook of your neck, peppering kiss after kiss along the exposed skin. “Yang Jungwon, I command you to stop this madness right now!” You giggled playfully, stomach already hurting a bit from how much his tickly lips made you laugh…

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 for humble members of the itty bitty titty committee; It was just like any other ordinary night you'd spend with Riki. You two were cuddled up on the couch, sharing a bag of snacks as you browsed through the anime section on Netflix. Y’all had already binge watched just about every single series worth your time, but now, you found yourselves watching any and every trailer in search for your next big obsession.

You watched as your boyfriend flipped through the anime section with the remote in his hand, nothing but ample bosomed female characters flashing before your eyes.

Yes, those sorts of visuals were completely normal in anime, and yes, you and Niki usually loved simping over the provocatively animated characters together...

However, this time when he got to talking, it only made you feel insecure about yourself as you stared down at your own seemingly feeble chest, a tiny pout rising to your face.

“Riki,” you asked shyly while the trailer kept playing, “do you think my boobs are too small?”

He almost immediately whipped his head to face you, “What?”

“N-nothing…” you lied, looking back at the TV as if nothing happened.

That's when your boyfriend paused the show, “No, you definitely said something, ____,” he corrected, putting the remote down and letting his hand find your knee to comfort you.

You let out a sigh, resting your hand over his while looking into his eyes this time, “Would you like me better if I had bigger boobs?… be honest…”

“You're asking me this because of all the busty anime chicks we just saw, aren't you?” he asked back, which only made you sulk even more.

“I know, it's stupid but-”

“No, it's a normal feeling to have, ____... but trust me, your chest is the perfect size, babe... they're like... dainty little cherries, y’know?...”

Even though you knew he was only trying to cheer you up, you couldn’t help but side eye him in his moment. “Wowww, how romantic of you, Nishimura,” you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes.

“Whatever, I know you like it when I compare you to foods... especially when I call you jellybean,” he smiled, right before smothering your cheek with the biggest kiss he could muster as you giggled beneath him, knowing that somewhere deep down in your heart, he was 100% right...

tysm for reading this quick lil fic !! ✗⚬ﾒ𝟶 a/n ℓօⓥe always ⋆⋆⋆ and feel free to check out my masterlist for more !!

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ( 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 💌 ) @squoxle @nikisdubblchococake @wonbinisbabygurl @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @watamotee33 @addictedtohobi @microwvdstrawb3rri3s

[jtargaryen18]

His Inheritance ~ Chapter 35

A/N: The center photo is indicative of the reader's gown only. Not her appearance which isn't defined.

Part 35: Dance with the Devil

Series Masterlist

Words: 5.2k

Pairing: Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader

Warnings: References to mafia, reference to violence and violent acts, intimidation, dark seduction. This is a dark fic. Please read responsibly.

Disclaimer: The author of this work claims no ownership of characters aside from the reader, and original secondary characters mentioned. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and darker themes. By reading this work or any works on my blog (jtargaryen18), you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work hosted on any third party app or site. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but archiveofourown and tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission.

Summary: For @alexakeyloveloki. Your father is the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Boston but he’s protected you from that life. In your quiet home outside the city, you’ve been cared for and protected. When the desires of a more powerful man with the will to dominate bursts into your life, all your illusions are shattered as he comes to claim what is his.

"You are almost ready," Yelena said with a smile, just after the stylists left. "Now the jewelry."

You paused, looking at your reflection in the mirror. Your gown was an exclusive creation by a top designer, a beautiful sleeveless, a-line creation in layers of tulle, sequins, and matte satin. Shades of pale blue and gold transformed you, enhanced by the ornate way your hair was done, the subtelty of your carefully applied makeup. Beneath you wore the most elegant little gold heels that were surprising comfortable despite their minimal style. The stockings were sheer, hugging your upper thighs just below the skimpy ice-blue panties you wore.

The mention of jewelry brought up an unhappy memory and you knew Yelena recalled it too when your gaze met hers. How your husband's ex-mistress smuggled her necklace in for you to wear on another special occasion had never been solved.Had it been Neal? Hansen? A reminder from the not-too-distant past that your enemies could reach you at any time. A reminder to be vigilant. 

"What jewelry?" you asked carefully.

Yelena smiled. "I picked it up myself," she told you, lifting a delicate strand of diamonds set in gold from a black velvet box on the bed. 

When she draped it around your throat, you smiled at the way it completed your look. There were matching earrings, diamond studs each with a teardrop diamond dangling and catching the light. The set was exquisite. 

"Harry Winston," your friend told you, admiring how they looked on you.

"Nice of them to loan these for the ball," you told her, grateful you got to wear them. 

Yelena reached for the golden mask on the bed, holding it to you. "No loan. Steve bought them."

What?

"These must have cost a fortune," you mused. They probably cost more than everything else you owned combined. "Glad you're going with us. I'd hate to get mugged for these."

Yelena grinned. "Security is going to be tight already with so many important people there. The mayor will be there. One of the state senators."

You scoffed. "Why am I going? I'm no one special."

"But you are," Yelena told you. 'The fact that everyone wants you has been a powerful motivator in this game of chess. Your husband is completely devoted to you. Barnes would love to get his hands on you."

"Barnes would ring my neck the first chance he got," you pointed out.

Yelena's expression was difficult to read. "I'm not so sure about that."

"Hansen would for sure kill me," you said, putting your mask in place carefully. The soft mask of golden sequins fit over your eyes. 

Yelena's gaze dropped at the mention of the name and you were ashamed. You needed to work harder not to bring that up to her. And you needed a subject change. Fast.

"Who's going to be here with Nat tonight?" You weren't surprised Nat didn't want to go. She'd been through so much between the horrific end of her abusive marriage and all trauma of years being left to the sadistic nature of Banner. You wanted to make sure she was well looked after while you and Steve were gone.

"Clint is staying here of course," Yelena said quietly. "Dyson will be here too. He's arranged for extra security for the house tonight."

You nodded your approval. "What about Scott?"

"He's coming with us," Yelena explained. 

You smiled. Scott going had little to do with keeping you and Steve safe and everything to do with spending time with Yelena. You were pretty sure Yelena was aware of Scott's infatuation with her. Would she ever return his affections? You didn't know. Considering her tragic history, you weren't sure she could feel the same way towards him or anyone. But in the time you'd known Scott, you learned he was a good man who always had your back and never once questioned your authority. You trusted him with your life. You trusted him with Yelena too.

But would she ever give him - or anyone - a chance after all she'd been through?

You blew out an exhale, preparing yourself for the night ahead. "I guess we should let Steve know I'm ready."

"He knows," a deep voice caught you and Yelena both off guard. 

Your husband strolled into the bedroom and Yelena stepped back to allow him a clear path to you. He looked breathtakingly handsome in the classic black tuxedo he wore, tailored perfectly to fit his tall, broad-shouldered physique. His tawny hair was perfectly styled, diamond cufflinks winking in the light. His tie was shades of gold and blue to match your gown, a subtle touch but one you appreciated.

Steve moved to stand behind you in the mirror of your vanity, bending to fit his handsome face in the reflection with yours. 

"You look so beautiful," he said with something like reverence in his voice. "I can't wait to show you off."

"I'll be downstairs," Yelena said, making her way out to give you some privacy. "We worked very hard on her, boss. Don't mess her up."

Steve smiled at what he took as a playful warning, his large hands smoothing over your bare shoulders. Slowly, you removed the mask, placing it in your lap with your hands. His watchful gaze didn't miss the slight tremble of their movements.

"Everything is going to be fine," he explained. "I've been to this event before. All the rich, politic elite of Boston come out to dance and drink the night away and wallow in excess. It's probably Tony's favorite night of the year."

You could see it. And you were excited to go to the annual masquerade ball, as Steve's wife and not his trophy, and to enjoy a fabulous night on the town. You felt like Cinderella, going to the ball in the gown that truly looked as if magic had created it.

But you couldn't fight back an impending sense of dread. It had been so quiet in the weeks of your recovery and Steve's. Life went on. You were included in all the family's business meetings. The family business had recovered and was branching out, deals with three of the other four families made things even better. 

Not that you agreed with all of it. You weren't crazy about the loan sharking or protection deals the family made. The casinos and restaurants didn't bother you as much. And at least the family wasn't making any money off drugs or trafficking. Some of the stories about the business and how other families operated you heard now were just horrific. You made up your mind early that no matter what, you'd never allow the family to make money off the misfortunes of women and children. Never.

It had been very quiet where the Barnes family was concerned. Too quiet.

"I'll  be the envy of every man there tonight," he murmured, pressing a kiss into your neck. The soft brush of his beard made you shiver. A sensual smiled curved Steve's lips. "Are you ready?"

You nodded. You trusted your husband. You were going to do your best to have a wonderful night, just like he intended.

And still that little kernel of dread lingered.

You felt like you were in an old Hollywood movie to walk down the staircase on your husband's arm with the gown flowing softly with your movements. Honestly, you were grateful for Steve's help in keeping you balanced, relieved when you made it to the bottom of the stairs.

Dyson, Yelena, Scott, Clint and Nat were a small crowd, watching in admiration as you approached. Nat's smile was all you needed to feel like a princess. Her lovely green eyes lit up as her gaze swept over you. 

"You look perfect," she exclaimed, carefully hugging you. "I knew that gown was the one."

Nat had been the one to find it when the two of you went out shopping for it. And you were all too happy to give her the credit. You knew very little about fashion. You would learn. Until you did, it was nice to have the advice of someone who already understood it.

As Nat stepped back, you forced yourself to smile. She still looked so small, so frail. She had yet to gain weight and regain her amazing figure. Your sister-in-law seemed fragile, even with the protection and love of the man she'd always wanted. Even with the full support and love of her brother. It worried you.

Dyson looked worried too, but as you did, he put on a quick smile. "You two had best get going. The line at dropoff takes forever."

"True enough," Steve said, nodding to Yelena and Scott.

You stopped to hug Dyson. "Keep her safe for me," you whispered.

"You know I will," he muttered.

Steve whisked you away to the sleek black limousine waiting in the driveway. Its glossy, jet-black exterior reflected the fading sunlight with a mirror-like finish. The long, streamlined body stretched gracefully, its tinted windows offering privacy and adding to its air of mystery. Scott climbed in behind the wheel and Yelena rode shotgun as Steve got you into the back seat, helping you keep your gown away from the doors. Once you were settled, you studied your husband. Something was missing.

"Did you bring a mask?" you asked him. 

Steve smiled, pulling a small black mass from inside his tuxedo coat. No sequins, just a matte black mask he could wear. But he wasn't interested in the mask as he fidgeted with it. He was too busy staring at you.

"Are you excited?" he asked.

You couldn't help the smile the question brought on. "Yes."

Steve looked pleased. "As time goes on and things settle down, we'll get out more. Do more things like this. You look like a princess tonight."

Tears pricked at the backs of your eyes at his heartfelt words. He meant them. He was taking you out to a society function, dressed you up like you were going to the fucking Oscars. A night out like nothing you'd ever experienced before. You'd been excited since he told you he got the tickets a few weeks ago.

"There are going to be a lot of people there, sweetheart," Steve explained quietly. "I'm sure Belova went over everything with you. But I need you to listen. You are going to be with me at all times. If you're not with me, you'll be with Belova and Lang. No wandering off to talk to people or sightsee. Okay?"

You nodded. Yelena had covered the plans thoroughly while she helped you get ready for the evening. 

"If I have to talk business for a moment, Belova will be with you. You have to go to the ladies' room, Belova will be with you," he continued. "Take it easy on the drinks. You're not used to alcohol and I need you vigilant tonight. We're going to have a wonderful time but..."

"I understand," you told him. "Besides, I don't want to miss any part of tonight because I'm drinking. It's my first masquerade ball. I'd like to enjoy every minute of it."

The smile Steve flashed you had your heart fluttering in your chest.

"There will be dancing, right?" you asked.

"Of course," he told you. 

"You'll dance with me?" Would Steve dance with you to a beautiful ballad or classic song?

Reaching over, he tipped up your chin with his fingers, his touch careful. "There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you when you smile at me like that. I love you."

"I love you, too." 

His lips were a teasing brush against your own but in seconds it deepened, filled with longing and need. 

The sharp wrap on the dark glass that separated the two of you in the back seat of the limo from Scott and Yelena up front scared you. Then the glass slid down just a couple of inches. 

"Later," Yelena admonished. "I worked too hard on her for this party, boss."

You froze thinking that was going to piss your husband off but he laughed. "Okay, sorry," he called back to her.

It made you happy. Ever since everything happened that day between your family and Barnes', your husband and your best friend got along a lot better. Steve was kinder to her, treated her with the same respect as he would any of the men in his employ. That being the case, Yelena felt comfortable enough to tease him about things like tonight. She worked hard on carefully picking her moments with him to tease. She did even better at being thoughtful when offering criticism or advice. The fact that they were getting along better just made your life easier.

"That's supposed to be privacy glass," he said, still grinning.

"Or she's just that good at her job." Honestly, she was.

"After the ball," Steve said once the privacy glass has slid back up, "I want you out of that dress. Especially if you want to keep it."

The sly warning had you grinning. "I would like to keep it. It's the most beautiful dress I've ever seen."

"Noted," your husband said. "I'll do my best to contain myself until you get the gown to safety."

The heated looks he cut you the entire way into Boston made you wonder if he'd be able to. You couldn't wait to find out.

Once you reached the venue, you saw there was indeed an endless line of limos in the que leading up to the door. It moved surprisingly fast. Within ten minutes, Scott pulled up to the door and Yelena darted out to open the door for you. Before you could reach for her hand, Steve was there, helping you out of the back of the car with ease and ushering you up the carpeted stairs with Yelena behind you. The decorations and festive lighting dazzled you as you moved along on Steve's arm. The way the soft light reflected off the gown you wore made you feel like you were in a fairytale. 

Steve stopped and greeted more than a few gentlemen on the way into the venue. One man you recognized as a senator and the easy way the two men spoke had you curious. Did the senator know who Steve was? Were they old friends? For a moment, the two of them seemed to forget all going on around them. Just as quickly, the senator's gaze fell on you and the handsome older man smiled. 

"Is this your new bride?" the senator asked.

"She is," Steve replied, introducing you with obvious pride. You meant to shake the man's hand. He kissed the back of yours in an old fashioned gesture. You found him completely charming. 

"Have you been to the masquerade before?" the senator asked.

You shook your head. "This is my first one."

The man smiled. "I hope you enjoy tonight. If I get the chance, I'll introduce you to my wife. It's one of her favorite nights of the year."

"I'd like that," you told him. "It was nice to meet you."

Was it your imagination that Steve watched you with such wonder? Once his conversation with the senator ended, he led you further into the venue where the main ballroom was all prepared, looking like a view from a movie set. 

Clusters of elegant tables arranged in a wide horseshoe shape framed the dance floor, each adorned with lavish centerpieces sparkling beneath the soft glow of the majestic chandelier overhead. The chandelier's light cascaded down like a shimmering waterfall, casting a warm, golden hue over the room, making every surface gleam. A full bar stood ready, offering the finest drinks, while an orchestra played a symphony of enchanting melodies, weaving through the air like a spell. The room was a sea of Boston's political powerhouses, movie stars, and the wealthy elite, all dressed in exquisite gowns and tailored suits, their masks concealing only their identities—not their status. As you paused to take it all in, your husband's familiar warmth pressed against your back, grounding you in the moment as the dazzling scene unfolded before your eyes.

"What do you think?" Steve's whisper at your ear made you shiver.

"I love this," you told him with enthusiasm. "Thank you for bringing me tonight."

"You don't have to thank me." Your husband took your hand, looking like a tawny-haired prince in his tuxedo and black mask, and led you to the dance floor. Your surprise must have shown on your face because he laughed as he swept you into his arms at the edge of the dancing crowd and led you in an easy waltz.

Steve was a wonderful dancer much to your surprise. He led you with an easy grace that you delighted in and found easy to keep up with given your own love of dance. You knew you had to be staring at him but he kept you close, enjoying your surprise.

"When did you learn to dance like this?" you had to ask after he twirled you around gracefully. 

"It's not so hard," he said, his attention solely on you. "Not nearly as hard as your type of dancing."

Ballet was discipline but dancing a perfect waltz wasn't easy either. You were impressed. 

"Is this why you got us all dressed up?" you teased. "So you could show off your dancing skills?"

Steve chuckled. "Is there something wrong with wanting to have a magical night with your wife?"

You were delighted. But you knew it wasn't the only reason Steve brought you here. And now that you were involved in the family business, you weren't offended by the other reason the two of you were there.

Not long before he married you, Steve had acquired a prized property on the outskirts of Boston. He'd been so involved with marrying you and taking over the families he'd neglected it for a time. Now his attention was back on it, plans were being made to develop it. Together, you'd decided on an exclusive resort with fine dining, glitzy nightclubs, and a casino for the wealthy. It was a massive investment and to make it work, certain permits would need to be acquired. The senator and a few key businessmen there tonight could make or break the project that would expand your family's wealth. 

It was a very important night for Steve.

He'd be spending some time talking to these gentlemen tonight which is why Yelena and Scott were there, to keep you safe. You really didn't mind. You felt like Cinderella at the ball in the beautiful gown that flowed and captured the light with your movements as you danced with your husband among the wealthy citizens of the city. As the two of you moved through the dance, you caught a glimpse of Yelena, dressed in her dark suit and standing next to Scott, blending into the background. Your best friend's gaze never left you. Scott's never left her. You smiled, enjoying the beauty of the moment, dancing with your husband at your very first masquerade ball.

When the dance came to an end, it took you a moment to realize it. One of the musicians announced the band would take a short break and be back in just a few minutes. Steve's hand at your lower back urged you to turn. The senator making his way towards you with a lovely older lady at his side. 

The senator's wife was polished from head to toe. Her gown was bright pink layers of satin that matched her lipstick. Otherwise her white hair and face gave her a cold countenance, like she was an ice queen dressed for her best guess at spring. Her eyes were dark, small and mean as her gaze swept over you. The senator assured you that you and his wife would have plenty to talk about. As the woman stood there studying you with pursed lips, you decided talking to her probably wasn't the best idea.

Steve's gaze met yours and he nodded as he let the senator lead him away, leaving you with the judgy woman before you.

"This must be a special night for you," she said tartly.

Straightening your spine, you smiled. "Why is that?"

The woman's white brows rose slightly but a smile played about her lips. "You don't belong here."

"Excuse me?" You kept your smile in place.

"My father was a direct descendent from The Mayflower," she informed you. "We're practically royalty here. We built our fortune through hard work and our good name. You, on the other hand, come from poverty and crime. You father crawled out the shadows and robbed good people blind. That's why you have the money to play dress up and act like you belong here. We all know your husband fancies himself some sort of underworld prince. But he doesn't belong here either."

Oh, no, she didn't just put you and your husband down. Lifting your chin, you looked her in the eye.

"Your ancestors came over on a ship over four hundred years ago and nobody cares anymore," you told her. "You can pretend to be royalty, and tell yourself you made your money working hard and protecting your good name. But the sad truth is, your family made your money the same way mine did. In fact, your family probably paid mine to keep from getting your hands dirty or to protect your interests. And my husband is the king of Boston's underworld and so was my father before him. You may be someone in society right now, but your husband is currently anelected official. If you were smart, you'd spending a little more time being respectful."

Gracefully as you could manage, you turned your back to the rude woman and marched off. Yeah, maybe you hurt your husband's chances of getting the permits you needed for the project development once she talked to her husband. But you weren't about to put up with someone like that. 

You looked all around for Yelena. You were dying to tell her about the conversation you'd just had. But you weren't watching where you were going and you collided with someone hard.

And whoever he was, he caught you in his arms, sweeping you out onto the dance floor as another waltz began. He was as tall as your husband and the scent of his expensive cologne was familiar. You realized who held you a beat before he spoke, a low purr by your ear.

"Did you miss me, beautiful?"

Barnes.

Easing back, you glanced up at your uninvited dancing partner, wearing an aura of allure and danger with ease. Barnes' chiseled jawline was partially obscured by the intricately designed black mask he wore, adorned with silver accents catching the light. Those steely-blue eyes were shadowed but still piercing, glinting with a cold intensity as his gaze met yours.

His tuxedo was entirely black and tailored to perfection, hugging his muscular frame effortlessly. His attire seemed to absorb the light, creating a sense that he came from the shadows. Even his shirt was dark onyx, subtle embroidery only revealing itself when he moved. And he felt strong as he held you, solid and healed.

Stop staring at the man and answer.

"I haven't thought about you at all," you told him, trying to sound nonchalant but not quite hitting that note.

As much as you hated to admit it, Barnes was undeniably handsome. From the way his hair was slicked back with precision to the confident smirk curling his lips, the man was... magnetic. But there was a sinister edge beneath the polished surface. There always had been. Barnes' posture was too poised, his movements too calculated. Every inch of him whispered danger, a wolf in the presence of unsuspecting lambs.

Pulling you close to him, Barnes chuckled. "I don't believe that. I think you I live rent free in that beautiful head of yours."

"Maybe," you said, feeling his smile widen. "I do think about how I wished we'd used more poison."

Now he laughed, a deep rich sound. "I don't doubt that."

"What do you want?" You looked anywhere but at him. Still, you were so focused on the predator that held you, you weren't really seeing your surroundings. The music, the lights, everything else seemed to fade into the background.

"What do you think I want?" Barnes asked.

As Barnes swept you around the floor, your mind scrambled for a comeback. "Your hands around my throat," you said, going with honesty. "And me dead?"

Leaning in, he ran his nose gently up the column of your neck, making you shiver. "Oh, I did. I really did. And I could have made that happen."

You were dangerously close to having him think he had the upper hand here. "No, you couldn't."

Again, he chuckled. "You've got it all figured out, don't you?" Releasing you only long enough to spin you in the dance, he pulled you back into him tightly. "You made peace with your husband. You're now involved in the family business. I would call Steve a pussy for even thinking about that if it were any other woman. But you're not just any woman. But you're special."

You missed a step in your alarm. How the hell did Barnes know you were in the all the family business meetings now? And that you and Steve had made peace? The questions triggered your anxiety, reminding you of the days early in your marriage when Neal had been Barnes' rat and you were always looking over your shoulder. Was someone else talking to Barnes?

"A long time ago, your mother seduced my father," Barnes whispered. "She tore my family apart. And when you came along and you weren't the poor disfigured little girl we were told you were, I assumed you were a little whore like your mother. You look almost exactly like her. Has anyone told you that?"

You didn't answer, trying hard to put a little space between the two of you. Where was Steve? It wouldn't be too conspicuous if he broke in on the dance. If Yelena or Scott came to save you, it could create a scene and unwanted attention. 

"I even thought maybe, horrible thought I know," Barnes went on, "that you might be my half-sister. But it didn't take me long to realize that wasn't true either. Besides, that devious little mind in there, hidden behind all that beauty? You didn't get that from your mother. Or my father."

"What's it to you?" you snapped at him, trying to pull off pissed even though you held anger and fear in equal measure. "I'm Steve's wife. He's your boss. You'd do well to remember that."

Barnes was unfazed. "You're Steve's wife. For now. But he can't handle you." Barnes leaned closer, his gaze locking with yours. "You should belong to someone stronger."

Now you really were getting pissed. "I don't need you or any man, including my husband, to tell me who I am and what I should be doing," you said.

"You may be right," he purred. "But it's that attitude, that fire. It got me thinking... I had the wrong idea about you from the beginning. Yeah, all the bitterness from the past clouded my judgment for a while. I wanted you dead and buried next to your loser husband." When you tried to pull free of him, he tightened his grip. His grin widened. "Now I realize you're exactly what I need."

"For what?" You didn't know how much of your glare he got from behind your mask.

"To finally take my rightful place," he said as if it were gospel. "The position occupied by your current husband."

Current husband? Who the fuck did he think he was?

"Our children will be kings and queens," Barnes went on. "That dynasty would rule Boston for decades."

"My children with Steve will rule Boston," you told him angrily. "And when we're done with you, no one will even remember the Barnes family."

"One day," he said with meaning, leaning closer, "you'll be mine."

Despite yourself, you shivered. Barnes caught it.

"You want me too," he whispered. "I'll make you admit it."

As the song neared its end, you were prepared to do whatever you had to do to get away from the bastard, the man who'd done so much damage to your family. As the last strains of the symphony ended, Barnes released you to bow. You did curtsy to him, then you straightened.

"I will never be yours." You meant it with every fibre of your being. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to find my husband."

Barnes' grin didn't fade. "Better find a way to keep him safe."

You spun on your heel, marching off the dance floor. You needed air, and a moment to calm down. You were blinking back tears, you were that angry. You felt someone on your heels as you made you way out of the main event room out ornate glass doors left open. It was chilly out there but you welcomed it, fighting back anger.

"Are you okay?" Yelena asked, her hand at your back as you gripped the railing and hung on. 

"No, I'm not... o-fucking-kay," you said, trying to regain your composure. "He came out of nowhere."

"He did," Yelena said. "He got to you so quickly after you talked to the senator's wife."

"Where's Steve?" you asked.

"Talking very intently to the senator," she replied. "It appears to be going well."

You had to wonder if that would still be true once the senator's wife caught a moment to tell her husband and your little "talk."

But you had bigger problems right now. Barnes.

"Barnes is all healed up," you told her. Looking beyond her, you saw Scott by the entranceway back into the ball. "And he's got big plans."

"He wants you," Yelena said it. "That much was obvious. It gives me some idea of his plans."

You nodded. "Don't say anything to Steve or Scott right now. I just want to find a glass of champagne to take the edge off and get through the rest of the ball."

With any luck, you could maybe enjoy one more magical dance with Steve before the evening ended.

You couldn't, however, complain. You wanted to be in on the family business and this was part of it. Barnes, unfortunately, was also part of it.  And he'd just announced his intentions to you and you realized now it was the pit that had been in your stomach the entire evening. 

Barnes would keep tearing your life apart until he was stopped. Somehow between his drastic plans and the animosity between you and your husband, you'd found your way to a happy marriage. A path to be queen in this world. And you'd be damned if you let Barnes threaten that future.

"You're going to tell Steve, right?" 

"I am." You didn't miss the concern in Yelena's voice. "I'm telling all of you. But not here."

Nodding her agreement, Yelena watched as you straightened, steeled yourself to return to the event. 

"Let's find you a glass of champagne, boss," she said with a wink.

Boss? Now that put the smile back on your face. 

@valsworldofcreativity @21stcenturywitchcraft @coconutqueen21 @bval-1 @caffiend-queen @sadlittlecountess @candy-and-writing @capsicle-shield @chaoticfiretaconerd @chrisevansgirl @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @coldmuffinbanditshoe @daughterofthenight117 @hv-chw3 @iheartsebstan @imanuglywombat @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @justrae9903 @lokislastlove @mariaenchanted @maxwelllee2020 @nekoannie-chan @nerdwholikesword @notyourtypicalrose @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho @peaceinourtime82 @rainbowkisses31 @rayofdawnworld @richonne4life @rissysthoughts-blog @saiyanprincessswanie @scarletsoldier21-blog @shygirl-00 @supernaturaldean67 @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @team-iron-wannabe-man @titty-teetee @tonib666 @villanellev @vitamingummies @what-is-your-plan-today @what-is-your-wish @xoxabs88xox @rosalynshields @naturalthrone22 @marvelovernfan @gotnofucks @eralen @kawairinrin @bluemusickid @geminievans1 @daughterofthenight117 @sunmoonandbuckyrecs @jesevans @kandis-mom @salvatoreitmeanssaviour @kmc1989 @curiousandjoyous @marvelouslyme96 @patzammit

[hisnumber1]

Devil's Embrace

Paring: Lucifer Morningstar x reader

Summery: (Y/n) had found herself at the hazbin hotel. She never thought of redemption but she got a free room while she does her work. (Y/n) made outfits and tailored for people if they pay enough. She loves trying to make unique dresses for balls or for higher class. Keeping her name in the high class of hell, she tailored for the king of hell himself. Finding herself tailoring for him in the hotel of his daughter is an interesting situation.

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: fluff, slowburn, close proximity.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

I find myself leaning back in my seat, sighing. Watching AngleDust flirt with Husker and he growls in response. Charlie is putting more stuff on her board as she tries to figure out how to make the hotel work. I jump back on feet, strolling down the hallway ways to get to my room. I walk into my room filled with drawing and projects I've worked on. I fall flat on my face into my bed, I turn my head, looking at my recent project of a dress.

The dress was a long ballroom dress, with a long v going down the chest. The sleeves were mesh, and at the top it came off the shoulder. The skirt came out and poofed out, with the back covered in a long black mesh. The dress was white, with highlights of red, all of the mesh was black, giving it a dark energy.

Something just seems off, I don't know what it is but it just does. I hear a ping come from across the room. Lifting up my head and seeing my phone light up, I groan as I pull myself up. Walking to my table, I grab my phone and sit on the table. I read the notification, it was an email. I tapped on it, scanning over the text.

"Dear Ms. (L/n),

I hope this email finds you well. I recently purchased a suit, while I am pleased with the quality and style, I find that it is slightly larger than my measurements. Therefore, I am writing to inquire about the possibility of having it tailored to a smaller size.

The suit in question is a white Shawl Lapel with red highlights, the fabrics are jacquard and velvet, and I purchased it about a week ago. I have attached a copy of the receipt for your reference.

I would greatly appreciate it if you could provide me with information on the process and cost involved in resizing the suit. Additionally, if you require any further measurements or details, please do not hesitate to let me know.

I am eager to have the suit adjusted so that it fits perfectly, and I trust your expertise in handling this matter. I am available to schedule an appointment at your earliest convenience.

Thank you for your attention to this request. I look forward to hearing from you soon.

Warm regards,

Lucifer Morningstar"

I sigh as I look at the photos he sent. It is a beautiful suit, but if I did it, the style would be better, but it is not mine. Thinking of what the price is, I need to get his exact measurements to tailor it correctly. Pressing the reply button, I started typing out my reply.

'Dear Mr. Morningstar,

Thank you for reaching out and for providing the details regarding your suit purchase. I appreciate your trust in our tailoring services.

I will be more than happy to assist you with resizing your suit to ensure a perfect fit. Before proceeding, could you please bring the suit to my studio for a fitting session? This will allow me to accurately assess the alterations needed and provide you with a precise cost estimate.

Once I have examined the suit, we will discuss the adjustments required and provide you with a timeline for completion.

Please let us know a convenient time for you to visit our store, and we will schedule an appointment accordingly. Feel free to contact us if you have any further questions or concerns.

Looking forward to seeing you soon and assisting you with your tailoring needs.

Best regards,

(Y/n) (L/n)'

I read over the email before hitting send. 'Wait, isn't Charlie his daughter?' I thought as I look back over his name. I press another reply button and put the the address, letting him know where he could meet me. Tossing my phone onto my bed, I walk out into the lobby again, sitting on the bar stool. "A shot of anything strong." I grumbled at Husk, he was cleaning a glass when he heard me. "What's the occasion?" He asked grabbing a shot glass before pouring some. "Work." I groan with my head on the bar, keeping my eyes shut, my headache gets worse with light.

"Ever thought of getting anything for those migraines?" Husk asked when he placed down the shot, I look up, grabbing the shot and downing it. "Another please. I've looked into it, but I don't need to, I'll just deal with it." Sighing as I push the shot towards Husk. He shakes his head as he pours another one, pushing it towards me. Taking the glass and downing it again.

I hear Charlie in the lobby talking to Vaggie about something, I turn to her. "Hey Charlie. Your dad is gonna come in a few days." I slur out, catching her attention she turned me wide eyed. "What?" She asked as she walked closer. "I'm tailoring a suit of his, I told him I need to take measurements cause he could have grown in the last year." I replied to her. "So he's coming to the hotel?" "Yeah, I think so." Replying to her she chuckled a but before pacing back and forth. "He's only gonna be in my room, just to get measured. He's one my highest paying customers." I chuckle, feeling the alcohol get to my system.

"He emailed me a few minutes ago about getting a suit tailored. I told him that I needed for take his measurements and then I would come up with the price." I explain to her. Charlie's pacing got faster, but she's stops when Vaggie puts her hand on her shoulder. "When would he be here?" Vaggie asked me and I shrugged.

"I can go see if he answered if you would like?" I got up from my seat, walking to my room. Opening my door, I walk to my bed, grabbing my phone. I look at the notifications, seeing a email. I walk out to the lobby, opening the email.

"Dear Ms. (L/n),

Thank you for your prompt response and for offering to assist with resizing my suit. I appreciate your attention to detail and professionalism in addressing my tailoring needs.

I will certainly bring the suit to your studio for a fitting session. I propose scheduling the appointment for this Friday afternoon around 2:00 PM. Please let me know if this time works for you, or if an alternative time would be more convenient.

I look forward to meeting with you and discussing the necessary alterations. Thank you once again for your assistance, and I am confident in your expertise to ensure a perfect fit for my suit.

Best regards,

Mr. Morningstar"

I read out loud. Charlie pauses and starts pacing again. "He can't come. We don't even know if this works. If he comes he'll know I failed." Charlie said lowly, Vaggie hugs her and kisses her cheek. "It'll be fine love." She said as she pulled away from the hug. Vaggie looked over at me and sighed. "He'll be here in two days, just make sure he is only here for that a not going anywhere else. Charlie isn't ready to face him at the moment." She said as she looked up at the clock to check the time.

I nod, I grab the shot glass and down the last one before walking to my room. Falling onto my bed, a breath left my lungs as I hit the bed. I turn over and pick up my phone, unlocking it and looking at the photo of the suit. Thinking for a second, it looks a lot like the dress. Looking between my phone and the dress on the lay figure, they would look together.

Standing up from my bed, I tiptoe to the sewing mannequin. I run my finger across it, looking back at the photo and then back at the dress. A light bulb lit up and I ran to my desk, grabbing safety pins. Taking out my sewing needles, turning on my machine, grabbing buttons. I pull the mannequin next to the desk, sketching out the idea in my head.

A bang woke me from my slumber, I jerk up and look around. Standing in my door way is AngleDust, he looks out of breath. "(Y/n)! My shirt is ruined!" He said as he walked closer with his torn shirt. I groan and put my head back on the desk. "You alright toots?" He asks as he puts his arm on my shoulder. "I'm fine, I finally figured out what was wrong with the dress, and I fixed it. There is a problem though, Lucifer is gonna be here tomorrow and he's kinda matching with his suit." A groan left my mouth, Angle walks over to dress. "It's gorgeous. I mean it's always been." He said as he looked over it.

Sighing as I felt my eyes closing. I stayed up all night working on it, adding new fabrics, adding the details. I felt myself falling asleep again as Angle looked over the dress.

My eyes slowly open, I groan as I sit up. "My back hurts like hell." Groaning as I stood up. It looked dark out, I must have slept all day. Walking out of my room into the lobby, the lights were still on so someone was awake. Yawning as I walk to the bar, my eyes saw Alastor, he was sitting on the couch as he read a newspaper. "Morning Al." I yawn as I pour myself something to drink.

His head perked up at my voice. "Morning, you know it's in the late afternoon right?" He asked as he placed his newspaper down.

"Yeah, I didn't sleep last night. So I slept all day." Yawning as I walk over to the couch, sitting next to Alastor. "Why didn't you sleep?" He asked as he sipped his drink. "Working on that dress." I groan. He hummed in response. I downed the rest of my drink before standing up. "Well Lucifer is coming over tomorrow, so I need to sleep. Night Al." "Oh goodnight (Y/n)." He grinned.

I step into my room, closing the door behind me. Sighing as I walk over to my bed, sitting on the edge before falling backwards. Grunting at the sudden stop, I throw my arm over my eyes, slowly drifting off to sleep.

Waking up to my alarm, I groan. I slowly sit up and turn off my phone. I whimper as the sun hits my eyes, I have to get ready and clean up for the appointment. I pick up my phone reading the time, but I saw that I had a email.

'Dear Ms. (Y/n),

Hello, I hope this email finds you in good health. I wanted to make an appointment to have a meeting. I want some new clothes by your hand. If you have the time for a meeting please contact me.

Love,

Valentino <3'

I read over the email before putting my phone down. I really don't want to deal with him right now, I sighed as I went to my drawers. Pulling out some presentable clothes, then walking to my restroom to take a shower. I turn the knob letting the water start, after I pull my clothes off of me, letting it hit the floor. Pulling my undergarments off before sliding into the shower. The hot water hitting my skin and wetting every inch of my body.

I put shampoo in my hair and scrub it in, soap going down my body as I rinse my hair out. Grabbing the bottle for conditioner, letting my hair run under water. Pouring some into my hand before scrubbing it into my scalp. I let the conditioner soak, I wash my body before rinsing off everything. Turning off the water, I grab a towel and put it around my body.

Walking into my room, striding to my bed, where I put my clothes. Taking the towel and drying off my hair before dressing myself. After wards I look at the time, it read 12:47 pm. I sigh, I still have almost two hours before he gets here. I look around the room, seeing my room is a mess, knowing us have to clean it sooner or later.

Cleaning up my room, putting everything in place before he gets here and picking up trash and dirty laundry. I organized everything and I looked at the time, it was 1:36 pm. My eyes widen as I look at the time. "Shit he'll be here soon!" I yelled at myself and I got a new mannequin out for the suit, making sure I knew where everything I needs was. Keeping track of time, I brushed my hair and put on light makeup, so I didn't look like I was dying.

Getting myself mentally prepared to see the sin of pride. He was cocky everytime you saw him, not a bad cocky but like 'he knows he's hot and he's not afraid to show it off' cocky. The man was hot, I can't denie that.

I walk to the lobby waiting for the knock, not a second later I hear it. Walking to the door, slowly opening it to reveal Lucifer. "(Y/n), it's been to long." He grinned as walked in to the hotel, his eyes shifted all over the lobby. "We will be working in a room back here, just follow me." I say as I lead the way to my room. He gladly follows along behind me, still looking everywhere. We make it to my room and I close the door after he walks in.

"Now if you would please stand here." I ask him to stand on a X mark on the floor. He looked down and nods with a smile. "So how have you been (Y/n)? I haven't seen you in about a year." He asked as he gave me the suit. "Eh, tired. I have been working on a new dress over that year, I finally finished it the day before yesterday." I reply, setting the suit on the mannequin.

"Yeah? May I see it?" He asked as he looked around my room. I nodded and I walked into my other room, I have to rooms attached to each other for my bed room and my studio. Rolling the mannequin out, the jewels sparkled in the sun light.

"That is gorgeous." Lucifer said as he walked over, feeling the fabric. "It looks a little familiar." He said as he put his hand on his chin. His eyes caught on the suit and he gasped. "It's like a set! The dress and my suit." Lucifer stated as his eyes light up. I chuckled and nodded. "I noticed that when you sent me the photos."

"I would love to buy it." He said as he looked at it. I stopped in my tracks. "What?" I asked with a chuckle. "How much, I could gift it to my daughter." He stated as he started pulling out his wallet. "I'm not selling it right now. I actually made it for myself, kinda a dream dress." I chuckled nervously.

You could practly hear his face light up. "I've never seen you wear a dress." He said surprised. "Well yeah, I don't like wearing them." "You should put it on." He said. "No." I said flatly.

"Oh come on (Y/n). You even match with the king if hell, why not put it on?" He asked. "Lucifer, I need to start measurements, please stand where you were." I said with no tone. He was a persistent man. "Come on, I would love to see you in it." He purred out. "Lucifer arms up." I said with a measuring tape in my hands. "Come on." He whined out.

As he is begging me to put on the dress, I just ignore him and measure his body. As I measuring his bust to his groan there was blast and the hotel shaked. Causing Lucifer to tumble over and fall on me.

I closed my eyes at feeling of the rumbling, so I didn't know how close he was to me. "Well hello gorgeous." I hear Lucifer say, I open my eyes to see his face a few inches away from mine. "Oh you're wearing makeup, it looks good on you." He complemented me. "Lucifer get up." I say as I start pushing him. "I am darling." He chuckled. Standing up, he offered me a hand, which I gladly took.

"Well that didn't sound good." He stated as he dusted himself off, I nodded in agreement. "I actually finished measuring you, I would probably charge you about $230." I said as I looked over my notebook, adding the measurements. "Always straight to business. That's what I liked about you." He chuckled. Taking money from his wallet, handing it over to me, before I pull away he takes my hand, bringing it to his lips. Kissing my knuckles for a moment before pulling away. "Well I'll see myself out, and you should probably check what that sound was." Lucifer said as he started walking out of my room.

Watching him walk off, I felt the heat leave my face. When did that happen? When did my face get so hot? I asked myself, but just blew it off as me just getting hot. Placing down my money on the table, and I hear another bang. Groaning as more rubble falls down in my room. "Ughhh! What is that!?" I yelled out.

A/n: My first story on here and I plan to write more. Sorry if I update slow but I'll get around to doing it!

[cerebralisis]

I decided to make my analysis of So High School into a separate post, because I can’t help but think of this song every time I see photos of Taylor at the games. And sure, it sounds like a love song on the surface until you remember that Taylor was bullied in high school and start to dig a little deeper. Feeling "so high school" is not something a 34 year old woman wants to feel.

Let’s look at the lyrics.

"I'm sinking, our fingers entwined, cheeks pink in the twinkling lights" = To me this sounds like drowning, embarrassment, and diving in with the sharks

"Tell me 'bout the first time you saw me" = You mean her first Chiefs appearance when they 'slid off in the getaway car' at the end? Nothing good starts in a getaway car, babes.

"I'll drink what you think and I'm high from smoking your jokes all damn night" = I mean...

“I'm watching American Pie with you on a Saturday night" = What do we know about this movie? We know that it is renowned for its high school immaturity and misogyny. It’s about a bunch of horny boneheaded men who treat women like sex objects instead of people. Sounds a lot like football culture to me.

"Your friends are around so be quiet. I'm trying to stifle my sighs." = I'm in the box with your friends and family. I need to hold it together so I don't offend them, but I legit hate this.

"Cause I feel so high school" = SHE HATES THIS.

"Bittersweet 16 suddenly" = I don't think she was a fan of high school, you guys.

"Are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me? It's just a game but really, I'm betting on all 3." = A clear reference to that kiss/marry/kill interview with Travis, while also saying "we're gonna get together, put on a show for everyone, and I'm going to slowly die inside until we're done."

"Get my car door, isn't that sweet. Now pull me to the backseat" = All I hear with this is Movie Director Taylor giving instructions to her leading man so they can get a good reaction from the audience.

"You know how to ball, I know Aristotle." = You're a jock. I'm a nerd. We are not compatible.

"Touch me while your bros play grand theft auto." = The official song lyrics on Spotify put grand theft auto in lowercase the first time and capitalized the second time. The capitalized GTA could refer to Travis's friends playing the video game, sure. But also - you know who was arrested in August 2023 for grand theft auto? Bashaud Breeland, a cornerback for the Kansas City Chiefs who played with Travis in the 2020 Super Bowl.

"It's true, swear, Scout's Honor" = Look it up, I dare you.

And my absolute favorite:

"On the brink of a wrinkle in time" = This is TTPD, folks. Of course there's going to be a literary reference. A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle. The main character is a girl named Meg who is incredibly bright but struggles in school because she doesn't fit in with the other kids. After meeting a trio of badass witchy women, Meg travels to far-off worlds (a sort of deep portal time travel, you might say) where she joins the battle of light vs. darkness. What do we know about Taylor’s usage of light and darkness throughout her discography? It's giving… Reputation vs. Daylight? Shrouded in secrecy vs. out in the open? Based on everything else that Taylor has been hinting at through TTPD (not to mention Evermore and Midnights), it sounds like she is on the verge of diving into a much larger battle. And if I had to guess, I would bet that this battle will start during the Reputation re-release. Around Halloween. 🎃 When exile ends. Almost exactly 2 years after the Bejeweled music video was released. Maybe the old Taylor can't come to the phone right now cause she's dead?

I'm just speculating, but I will add that the 3rd book in the Time series is called A Swiftly Tilting Planet. There is a poem referenced through the book that goes like this:

With Ananda in this fateful hour, I place all Heaven with its power, And the sun with its brightness, And the snow with its whiteness, And the fire with all the strength it hath, And the lightning with its rapid wrath, And the winds with their swiftness along its path, And the sea with its deepness, And the rocks with their steepness, And the Earth with its starkness, All these I place with God's almighty help and grace between myself and the powers of darkness.

The word ‘Ananda’ mentioned above is the name of a character in the book, which is significant to the story because it’s a Sanskrit word that describes the eternal bliss that accompanies the ending of the rebirth cycle. If this series is what Taylor is referencing then it’s sounding more and more like she’s going to kill off Taylor TM and be done with the games, done with the reinvention. The plot summary of A Swiftly Tilting Planet says that it’s a book about "going back in time and changing might-have-beens." What decisions would she have made differently if she could do it all over again?

I don't know, friends. Take from this what you will. All I know is, this woman and all her brilliant duality is going to send me to a padded room. ✌🏻

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Kintsugi  金繕い [Spencer x Reader]

Photo credits Left (@mon-petit-coeur-noir) Center (@whoisspence) Right (@shakespearesdaughters)

Prompt: When the reader gets kidnapped for being friends with Spencer, she is mentally tormented to get back at Reid, and the reader and team, especially Spencer,  have to find a way to communicate before it’s too late for her to make it out alive. 

Pairing: Spencer x BAU-Fem!reader, Nerdy!reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns

Category: angst/hurt/comfort [happy ending] 

Word Count: 15K

Content Warnings: Mention of death and sexual assault, mention of blood, mental torment [threat of assault, being unclothed, forced partial blindness - eyes glued open, forced partial deafness - loud music is played, degrading comments (reader)], physical harm [being cut with a knife, being put in a feezing unit, being beaten (reader)], distress, mentions of hospitals. If I missed any please let me know. 

A/N: Hi all! I hope you are all doing very well! If you are a student on Summer break I hope you are having fun and relaxing! As always, I return with a novel of a Spencer story. This story was requested by an Anon, thank you so much, and I hope you like it! I do throw in a few Star Trek and literary references in this fic, but I try and explain them well. My requests are open, so feel free to request a fic from me if you like anytime! I do want to encourage you to read the tags as this is a bit dark for me (though it has a happy ending). If you like this concept and would like to see part two of the reader’s healing process with Spencer, let me know. Please be kind to yourselves this week and do something you love, you are so special. If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Love Levi - ❤️

List with all stories 

y/n = your name 

y/c/h = your color hair 

y/l/n = your last name 

t/c/s = tea/coffee/soda 

y/n’s head was pounding. It was throbbing with pain and the hard floor and air itself seemed frigid. y/n clutched her sides and rubbed. She was grateful that their clothes were still on. Given the unsub the team was dealing with, it wasn’t what y/n had expected. But then again, the man the BAU had been trying to find in the last week had been full of surprises. He didn’t fit the early profile the team had created, and now y/n was alone and scared, but she pulled together her strength and courage and opened her eyes. This was her job and she’d been doing it for a year. She’d seen team members taken, and harmed, and sometimes almost died, but if there was one thing y/n knew about the BAU, it was that they cared for each other. Everyone on the team would be looking for her. They wouldn’t leave a stone unturned until they found her. That was what had drawn y/n to the Unit in the first place. 

The BAU had done a joint operation with y/n’s Counterterrorism team where they were the unofficial data specialist and literary nerd. As soon as Derek had seen y/n and Reid together, he looked at Emily and said, “Well, this is going to be trouble,” to which both agents looked up and said in unison, “What?” It was during that case that Spencer had been in danger, and y/n was a bit too. Spencer had put himself in harm's way to ensure she was okay. Just seeing how the BAU responded with more than just professionalism, but also with care had sealed y/n into wanting a transfer. It wasn’t for another two years before that became a possibility. There was some issue with the documents that she had mailed to the Quanitco office, eventually, she sent fresh ones and drove them down herself. 

It was that knowledge, that the team was looking, at that filled y/n with warmth and shared determination. She opened her eyes and realized why she was so cold. From the looks of things, the white cement floor, the fluorescent lighting, and the crusted blood on the ground, y/n was in a meat packing plant. She sniffled and rubbed her shivering torso as she opened her eyes and sat up. There were conveyor belts on the far side of the wall, along with sharp meat hooks hanging from the ceiling. This setting would make sense given that the bodies of the three victims that had the team come down in the first place had seemed very fresh, even though they had passed a few weeks ago. The thought of the women and what the unsub had done to them and their bodies made y/n want to vomit. 

They had been killed excruciatingly. Not only had they been tortured, but they’d been assaulted as well. With this in mind, and possibly in her future, y/n moved away from the dried blood on the floor, not sure who or what it was from. y/n wondered how long the man kept his victims alive. The team had hypothesized that he was a sadist and loved long drawn out kills, to watch the victims suffer. The unsub had a type, and y/n fell into it. There was a sound at the far side of the room, and y/n moved to the center of the space. There was no point in cowering in the corner. She decided to face the unsub head-on. Show no fear, even if she was filled with it to the brim. The man’s outline filled the door making it unable for her to see him, but y/n knew that would change soon enough. 

As y/n waited to test wits with the man in front of her, the rest of the BAU, many miles away had set up a tent at the Kansas State Fair. Their team tent looked much less adorned than those of the food and game vendors with their bright colors and light. The satellite pop-up of the BAU and police presence were needed to gather information and vet the people leaving the fair since y/n had been taken. Their tent was on the far side of the fair. It would be unassuming if there weren’t loads of cops, police cars, state troopers cars, and a SWAT team all moving in and out of the space. Aaron and Rossi were heading up the operation and working through the bureaucratic tape and interdepartmental things that would otherwise slow the team down. There was a tension in the air that permeated each member of the BAU. It was palpable with all of them, but with Spencer, it was coming off him wave after wave. The lithe agent was with Emily and Derek, walking through the empty mirror house where y/n had been abducted. As Reid, Em, and Morgan move through each cranny and trick door for guests and employees. He caught his reflection in mirror after mirror and it all felt like a sick joke. Reid was absorbed in his own reflection for a moment before he heard Derek’s voice cut through his brain fog. Spencer snapped up and moved toward his friend's voice. Emily and Morgan were kneeling down next to an employee entrance. Reid was upset and angry, and the sight of a blood stain on the bright floor along with a few strands of y/n’s y/c/h should have made him feel good, but the blood only meant that y/n was already hurt, and probably being hurt more at this point made his stomach churn. 

Emily looked at Spencer’s serious face and re-asked “Can we get a blood sample vial, Spence?” The question finally registered with Reid and he replied sharply, “I’ll do it. Can you just step aside a bit?” Derek’s brow furrowed. He knew that Spencer had a thing for y/n. Everyone on the team did except, infuriatingly, the pining agents themselves. But that didn’t give Spencer a reason to be hot at them. Morgan replied, “Easy Spence. We’re doing everything we can.” Spencer couldn’t stop himself from saying, “Well not enough to keep her safe when she was with you both.” At that statement, both Prentiss and Derek stood and looked at Spencer disappointingly, like a child who had said a naughty word they had been told not to say. They both moved back and their physical reactions made Spencer drop his head in shame. He took a deep breath, rubbed his eyes, and said to the floor, “I’m sorry.” He was trying to hold back all the emotions. Emotions he often didn’t let himself feel. He looked up at his friends and continued, “I’m sorry. I… I don’t think I know how to deal with this. I know it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have done anything, and you both care about y/n as much as I do. I let my emotions get away from me.” 

Morgan and Emily looked at each other as Reid said that they both liked y/n as much as he did, knowing it wasn’t true. Yes, they both loved y/n, but not like Spencer, and that realization justified Reid's words for them. They both moved forward. Derek gave Spencer’s shoulder a firm squeeze, and said, “It’s okay, kid. Now, have you got that vial Em needs?” Reid released a relieved breath, pulled a sample kit out of his shoulder bag, and handed it over to Emily who was back on her knees near the evidence. As she began taking the sample, Morgan and Spencer moved down the narrow trap door to see where it led and to see if there were more clues about the unsub or y/n’s location. 

As the duo moved down the narrow hallway, it became apparent that y/n must have been unconscious or tightly bound as she was being taken away by the unsub. There would have been more of a struggle on y/n’s part if she’d been awake or free, but none of the boxes or supplies for the House of Mirrors seemed to be broken or messed up. Derek didn’t know if this was a good or a bad thing, and Reid’s mind was moving too fast, even he couldn’t keep up with it. He knew the team needed to find all of the physical evidence first, to vet the guests and vendors that were leaving for information, but that could be a slow process and all Spener wanted to do was use his full brain power to think about the victimology, update the profile, make a map pinpointing the locations of the victims, but this process had to be done first. The team was a member short, and they all knew the police weren’t helpful in situations like this, so Reid sucked it up and kept moving beside Morgan, trying desperately to still his brain for once. 

Back in the freezer, y/n looked as the mountain of a man came into view. He looked disheveled and red-faced. He wore jeans and a button-down T-shirt. y/n looked at him. She wanted him to make the first move, to understand him better -- his ticks, any weaknesses he had. Anything she could use against him. Force wasn’t an option right now, but she had her mind, and that was worth a lot. The unsub grinned and said, “This will be fun. You’re prettier than I expected. That look of fear on your face, he’s going to love that.” y/n swallowed and replied, “‘He?’ Don’t you mean you. You’re the one taking and killing the woman. And thanks for the compliment.” The man chuckled and said, “You have a mouth on you alright, just like I expected. Of course, he’d like you the little bitch. And who he is doesn’t matter. For now at least. But it will be fun. Not for you of course, but for me it will be. I’ll get so, so very much pleasure from you. I just didn’t expect you to be so cute. It’s a shame, really.” 

y/n frowned. She couldn’t tell if this was dissociation or multiple personalities, but the constant mention of her looks and another person was odd. There hadn’t been any signs of a second unsub, nor was there any other DNA evidence on the victims. As the man made a fast step toward y/n, she moved away from him. This only had the unsub smile and laugh as he moved toward y/n again and said, “You can’t run away from me little bird. You’re only going to make it worse on yourself.” y/n stopped at that. y/n stopped immediately. She swallowed thickly. If she was someone else, like Hotch, Morgan, or Spencer who had the presence and size to act brave in a physical altercation she would bluster and make herself big and threatening. But y/n wasn’t them and didn’t take risks like they did. Firstly, because even y/n assumed Morgan would be physically intimidated by the man’s size and bulk, secondly, y/n was still new to the BAU. Not that she hadn’t picked things up quickly or was good at the job, but it was still more difficult for her to pick up small tells or things like Reid or Emily could. Plus, it wouldn’t help her in signaling the team in some way if the first thing that happened to her was to be fully incapacitated. 

The unsub noticed her submissive posture and liked it saying, “That’s it little bird, now I need you to get out of your things.” y/n looked up at him, biting her lip asking, “Why? What happened to the bird when it gets defeathered, defrocked?” y/n knew what to expect next, assault was part of this man’s MO and if she could postpone that, she sure as hell would. The man laughed again, harsh and cruel, like he was in on a joke that she wasn’t. The man replied, “I’m not going to break you like the others. I could, and I will if you give me too much bratty attitude, but that’s not the plan. All of that other shit with the women and how I treated them, that was to get your attention. Their attention. And I don't think physically breaking you would hurt him either, but don’t test me. However, for now, just take off your clothes and I won’t touch you, that way.” 

y/n didn’t look forward to being undressed in front of anyone. It was uncomfortable for her to be vulnerable with their body like that, even with close friends like Penelope and JJ. In fact, a memory of Emily trying to get her to buy a more revealing swimsuit for the summer popped into her mind and the coaxing it took for y/n to finally buy and wear the skimpy swimwear. Of course, Spencer’s attempt to not look over her body with rapt attention had made the discomfort worth it. When the unsub grabbed at her shirt, y/n began undoing the button of her shirt. It took longer than she expected as her hands shook with cold and fear. y/n expected the man to ask her to move faster, but he didn’t. Again, he seemed to have a sick enjoyment of watching her cower. y/n took this opportunity to think and think fast. The man had said he was trying to get the team's attention. Not only the team’s attention but ‘his’ attention. So that narrowed it down to four people. That was something to go off of. Second, this unsub was someone y/n would have remembered if she’d dealt with him before, but she didn’t, so he was someone from before her time. This was some kind of lesson. There was only a small glimmer of hope that y/n had for her health, both physical and mental because if the unsub wanted to break a member of the team through her, it was going to take more than just taking them captive and keeping them in a poorly regulated freezing unit. 

At this point, y/n was down to her undergarments, and she wondered how pushing the man would be. How quickly he would react, and with how much force? There was only one way of finding out, and she intended to know this early on. This way she could better gauge her actions and submissiveness. If that turned out to be a thing he liked, then she could use it as a small way of gaining control later. So y/n stopped when she stepped out of her pants, and the man quickly changed his demeanor saying, “Don’t stop now. I may not be interested in you, but I know he is, and it’s no good if we’re keeping this at a PG-13, scary movie rating. I need this to be the unrated version birdie, so get out of those panties and bra.” y/n now knew that the man’s emotions were volatile and could change on a dime. That was all she needed to know to get out of her last things. The cold chilled y/n further now that she was nude. 

y/n couldn’t stop herself as she moved her hands to cover her nudity. The unsub bent down not even noticing her discomfort as he picked up her undergarments and examined them to an odd degree muttering, “Do you think he knows you match your bra to your panties? Because he will soon enough.” y/n stepped back, slowly onto one of the patches of dried blood which made y/n cringe. The serious ‘he’ was back and the expression of rage on the man’s face was so intense that y/n wanted to run to the door to try and escape. Whatever this man who had supposedly wronged the unsub, there was a vitriolic rage for him simmering underneath the surface. Before y/n even had the chance to fully think through making a run for it, the man stood up and whipped his hand over y/n’s face so hard that the blow threw her back and into one of the metal supports of the conveyor belts. 

The pain in the side of y/n’s face shocked her into stillness as her jaw clicked oddly and she grunted in pain. Again, before y/n could react, the unsub was on her again. He kicked her torso, legs, and face with the steel tips of his boots breaking the skin every time another blow landed on her prone body. Along with the damage to her front, every time the man’s foot met y/n’s bare flesh, her back was pushed back and harder into the sharp corner of the convey belt. y/n quickly figured out that the unsub was being fast and efficient. When she looked up at his face, he seemed bored as he landed each kick. There was a callous disinterest in what he was doing. He seemed to not be affected at all by what was happening to his victim. Due to this y/n began planning accordingly. Shifting her position slightly so the blows landed on a more padded part of her body, and along with giving her lower back a break by shifting the hits to her lower shoulders, this meant her breasts getting hit, which was not pleasant in the least, but it was somewhere new, and somewhere padded by a bit more. 

y/n felt jostled to the core and rattled to the bone. The pain she was experiencing was blinding and she couldn’t think about much more than trying to protect her face and groin, both of which got hit anyway. What felt like an eternity’s worth of blows ended as soon as it began, and all y/n could do was lie on the ground and grit her teeth against the pain. Her attempt to stay strong physically and mentally was already being tested, but she refused to lick her wounds in front of her captor. If this was about being broken, then she wasn’t yet. The unsub knelt with a grunt and jerked y/n’s face up and into the light, looking at the bruising on her face examining her like a piece of meat for consumption. Something about her battered appearance didn’t suit his liking and he said like a painter finishing a masterpiece, “Just a bit more, right there.” His large stubby pointer finger gesticulated at her lower face and he gripped her hair more tightly and rammed her head onto the floor splitting her lip and jarring her jaw again. 

With that, the man dropped y/n’s face, stood, and walked straight out of the room. Just for the fun of it, he kept the door open for three minutes as he watched y/n turn onto her side to find any place that was comfortable enough to breathe. y/n looked at the open door and the look of delight on the man’s face as he stood by the entrance, and y/n realized that this was going to be her form of torment, an option in view but not accessible. When the large metal door finally swung shut and was locked from the outside, y/n closed her eyes and tried to use her brain. There would be time to assess her physical damage later, for now, she could use one thing that she had. She made mental notes: that the unsub walked with a limp, that he had a New York accent, that he wasn’t over fifty years old. He also had a large size footprint to match his large stature. He also had a mermaid tattoo on his left ankle. Next, she thought about his mental patterns. He was volatile and not afraid to cause harm, but he took no pleasure in doing so to her. It was about a certain result. He had also said that he had only killed those other women, and eviscerated them, to get a man on the team's attention. y/n could work with that. Try and use that to her advantage. If only she could find out who the man was. As the pain took y/n over, and her brain shut down to the basic feeling of hurt and cold, y/n’s mind turned to Spencer. How I must have looked at the moment. Stressed, tired, on edge. It wasn’t a pleasant sight, even if it was for her. She wished she could pull him into a hug and say “It’s alright Spence. I’m holding on. I promise.” The last sentence would stay silent, but he’d know. Because he always knew her. And with that thought, y/n closed her eyes, curled in on herself, and attempted to rest. 

The night was not pleasant for anyone but the unsub. But even Moore Eiarty, the unsub, was worried that his plan wouldn’t succeed, That he couldn’t break the genius of Spencer Reid. But all the pieces were finally in place, and now it was time to play. As the team finally got through vetting the people in the park, they got back to work. The main thing they had to go off of was that one of the performers, the Giant Man, was missing. He’d been added last minute to the tour and there had barely been time to get his paperwork in order before the Kansas Fair began. And it wasn’t until that evening that they discovered that the man, Mr. M. Earity, had very well-forged documents. Not just one, but all of them. That gave Penelope a lot to work on while the team took the angle of victimology and reworked the profile. The BAU had moved back to the police precinct except for Derek and Rossi. Spencer knew that Morgan was taking this especially hard because y/n had been taken while she was with him, but Spence’s head was too full of ideas and concerns to worry about how the others felt right now. 

Aaron watched the team do what the team did. Perhaps they were working a bit more hectically than normal, but this was one of their own on the line and Hotch would rather die before he stopped working to get y/n back. As he looked at Spencer, writing on over seven whiteboards with three coffees on the table, he considered that Reid might also die if they didn’t find y/n soon. That thought sat with the Unit Chief, and he tucked it in the back of his mind for later. This felt especially pertinent to this case, though he didn’t know why yet. Nothing much came in terms of developments for a few hours. JJ released a statement for the press, Derek and Rossi returned to the team, and the Fair was shut down for legal safety. The tip line ran nonstop and everyone felt the weight of time. It wasn’t until 3:00 AM that the first real forward momentum was given to the team, and target to Spencer specifically. 

It came in the form of an email from an unlisted account. It was labeled Urgent Dr. Reid - Re:y/n, y/l/n. Spencer looked at the email and decided to open it. He was tired, and his brain was beginning to numb at all the stimuli that were assaulting his mind. What he saw once he opened that email made him drop his coffee and whip his hand over his mouth in horror. Aaron and Emily were in the room with Spencer, and they both noticed their colleague’s distress. Prentiss moved to Reid’s side and looked at the laptop as well. Her mouth went slack and she whispered, “Oh my God. H-hotch…” It didn’t take Aaron more than four strides to see what had both of these friends looking like they were going to be sick. As soon as he saw the first picture of y/n, naked, heavily bruised and bloody, and head down he knew why Reid and Em had reacted as they had. y/n’s hands were forced above her head with zip ties and strung to a hook hanging from the ceiling. The position she was in had her knees barely brushing the floor which meant that all of her weight was in her wrists, elbows, and shoulders.

y/n wore a pained expression, and Hotch’s eyes darted up for a second out of proprietary. He didn’t want to have to see y/n undressed. To be forced into such a humiliating position and know others, people she trusted, would see it made Aaron pause. It hurt. He composed himself and said as professionally as he could, “We need this on the big screen. Em, can you get on that? Reid, is there any text in the body?” Prentiss and Spencer came back to themselves, though it took Spence a moment longer, and they registered their Leader’s questions. Emily nodded and moved to pull down the projector in the room and pushed some of the whiteboards Reid had been using aside; meanwhile, Reid scrolled past the 25 attached photos to where there was some text. He read it in a millisecond and said, “Yes there is. I’ll get Gacia on Zoom while you get the rest of the team in here.” Hotch nodded and took one more second to look at Spencer to see if he was okay. This was targeted at him, which was both a good and a bad thing, but right now, the smartest member of the team looked determined to get to the bottom of this, so Hotch moved to the door to get everyone else into the conference room. 

After the team looked at all of the photos and the attached email, they split into smaller sub-groups to work more efficiently. Aaron and Emily agreed to look at all of the images with a more critical eye. They would break down every angle and shot and bruise on y/n’s body. The one positive thing that the pictures did show was that y/n was alive. Or at least she had been, and given the unsub’s propensity to draw out his kills, there was a good chance that y/n was still alive. The time stamp on the email had been from only a half hour ago and didn’t appear altered. Hotch assigned Spencer and JJ to look at the body of the email. He gave this task to Spencer so he could do something he excelled at. He was the best linguist and forensic document analyst in the FBI after all. JJ was also excellent at identifying patterns in writing and could help Spencer. It also gave Reid an out for not having to look at y/n’s prone and exposed body. 

Aaron as the leader took that burden of looking at y/n with Emily because Prentiss was also very good at compartmentalizing her emotions related to her friendships and the job. Derek was working with Garcia, who was on overdrive to find the source of the email and pin down a location along with about ten thousand other things. She’d gone as far as calling in Janet, another Technical analyst at Quantico to come and help her because two computer processors and brains were always better than one. Lastly, Rossi coordinated with the police on-the-ground operation of searching for y/n. Even though a lot of moving pieces were happening at the same time, the BAU did what it always did -- work with excellence and as a team. Aaron looked at his team for a moment, proud of them. He was worried about Spencer, who was more on edge than normal. Hotch turned his eyes back to the screen, he’d check in on the genius in a few hours, for now, he had a difficult job to do. 

After a few hours that slipped by like grains of sand in an open palm, the team had discovered a few things. The first thing that Spencer and JJ broke down was the email which read: 

I have waited for a long time to get this opportunity. While I have watched you all, the most famous and infamous team in the FBI, I have been looking at one of you in particular. I wonder if you know who you are yet? Let me give you a hint. Last I saw you, you were just a child not even weaned on crimes or violence. Do you know now? Estranged from your friend, I wonder if you’re floundering like I have been before because of you. Sorry if this is all a bit obtuse, but this is fun, and I’m going to draw it out for you. Try not to get too excited yet, the best is yet to come. Rest assured that your friend will face the consequences of knowing you so well. Only when I see you so ruined as I have been ruined will I be happy. Yesterday you were so determined to catch me, do you feel that way now, or are you feeling the fear in your veins? You can find me eventually, but not before I find you. Other things may happen too. Under my control, I may make y/n do anything I want. Don’t worry though, I don’t have plans like I had for the others, this is different. Ready now. Ready now. Enough of waiting for you, and this moment. I’d start praying for y/n, and you, my friend. Dare we should meet in person and you’ll see what I’ve done to her and you’ll finally taste my revenge. 

It didn’t take Spencer more than a minute to read the ‘secret message of’ I will destroy you, Dr. Reid, in the unsubs email. He almost laughed at the grandiose nature of the writing. JJ then pointed out that y/n wasn’t even mentioned until the end of the rambling message. This told the team that this kidnapping was all about Spencer, as it was clear from the email, and had little to do with y/n. That y/n was being used as a tool to get at Reid. Of course, the pictures of y/n who was bruised heavily all over her body, showed that the unsub was still willing to inflict serious bodily harm on her. But this fact made Emily and JJ feel slightly better. 

Spencer had come up with at least seventeen facts, grammatical patterns, and hints at a personality based on egomania. After Reid had said about five of them in the span of a few minutes, Derek gave him a look and Spencer stopped talking. Aaron and Emily then broke down the patterns of bruising and how the depth of the day-old bruising was likely from one sustained moment in time. That there didn’t seem to be layer upon layer of bruising on y/n’s body. Also, from the look of it, there didn’t seem to be any sign of sexual assault. Hotch had caught onto the dark red-rimmed circles under y/n’s eyes, indicating that she hadn’t slept much if at all since she had been taken nearly twenty-four hours ago. It was also pretty easy for Aaron to tell that y/n was being kept in some kind of industrial freezing unit. This was concerning as staying anytime long-term in such a cold space could lead to frostbite and long-term nerve damage. 

After the team had gone through the information and made a start at a new profile that focused mostly on the unsubs' hatred for Spencer, this put even more pressure on Spence. The rest of the team took a small break to just breathe or step outside or get a drink of the bad coffee from the office breakroom, Reid stayed behind and furiously wrote in his notepad and looked at the photos of y/n while biting the inside of his cheek so hard that he broke the soft pink skin. Spencer turned off the bright light to let his eyes and at least his occipital cortex have a break. The rest of his body was working pell mill. Derek moved back to the room ten minutes later and Spencer was leaning, his hands forward, and head bowed toward the wooden table. He looked like he might collapse. Morgan could see his friend’s outline backlit against the brightness of the screen. He looked frailer than normal, skinnier than his usual tall body. Derek knew this was hard for Spencer because it was y/n who had been taken, and it was because of him. Even if Spencer hadn’t realized he had feelings for y/n yet, he still felt the weight of what was happening to her because of him. Morgan entered the room with a cup of coffee and said gently, “Spencer, I brought you some coffee.” Reid hummed softly like he hadn’t really heard Morgan and Derek said, “Reid,” a bit louder. Spencer’s head shot up and toward Derek and his hands gripped the side of the table harder, knuckles turning white. Spencer snapped a “What?” at Morgan before taking a breath and relaxing his shoulders. Morgan didn’t mind Spence’s tone now. It made sense. 

Derek moved into the room and said, “I brought you some coffee. Maybe we could step outside for a minute? Get some fresh air?” Reid dropped his head again and he said mournfully, “I can’t rest right now. I have to figure out who has y/n.  I don’t know who the unsub is, but they know me and I don’t want y/n to have to pay the price for that.” Derek sighed and replied, “Spence, y/n would never blame you for being her friend, for being someone special to her.” Reid sniffled and replied, “She won’t thank me if she’s dead and neither will I.” Spencer’s voice broke off halfway through his last sentence. Morgan stepped forward and placed his hand on Reid’s shoulder. He gave is a gentle squeeze and replied, “Well thinking like that isn’t going to save her. And you need that super processor of a brain of yours to cool off before it shuts down on it’s own. And y/n is a tough cookie, she’s going to make it Reid. If there’s anyone who can find her, it’s you. And if you start letting this guy get to your head, then he’s already won. And we don’t let fuckers like that win. I know y/n sure as shit won’t thank you for that. Now let's go outside.” Spence allowed himself to be led out of the dark room, and Morgan closed the door behind them. 

y/n was beyond tired, she dozed off on and off as she lay in the corner of the room. She was too sore to move around. She did take a look at her surroundings every time she woke abruptly from an unknown sound. She’d look for the man who called himself Mr. M., or to shift from side to side to try and increase her circulation and shift the pain to a new place if that was possible. Much to Mr. M.’s credit, he didn’t seem to enjoy stringing y/n up to the ceiling and he’d taken her down as soon he’d finished taking what seemed like an endless stream of photos. He’d positioned her more like a clay statue looking at angles and composition than as if she was a human in pain. This gave y/n an indication that he might be a sociopath given that he seemed immune to her pained sounds as he adjusted her body again and again. He’d muttered “He’s going to love these. To see what I’ve made of you so far.” y/n opted to stay silent. To see if she could get any more information from the man, but he didn’t do much more than complain about the lighting and make comments about the ‘he’ in question. y/n highly considered that the male member of the team could be Rossi or Aaron, whom Mr. M was muttering on about. M seemed to address this person with such dignified authority that would fit those two people on the team. But that didn’t make sense, as y/n didn’t think Hotch or Rossi held her in any higher standard than the rest of the BAU. Yes, she respected Aaron as a leader and he respected her back. And surely he was beating himself up for not looking out for her, but it didn’t seem to fit with the rage that M felt toward this person. 

It seemed even more outlandish for the ‘he’ to be Rossi. Rossi was like a father figure to y/n. He had helped her really learn the ropes of the team and cases. Especially the paperwork after a case was finished, but if Mr. M wanted to hurt Rossi, he’d surely know to find one of his Ex-wives or someone closer to Dave. It was the odd reverence that the unsub continued using that threw y/n off of the real person he was targeting. The next interaction that y/n had with the man would clear things up for her significantly, and give her an option to use her brain to help the team find her. 

Mr. M came back sooner than y/n had wished. Her exhaustion and numbness made not only her body weak but her brain slow. When she saw that he was holding her underwear and a knife, she sat up and crawled back against the wall clumsily, not liking that combination of objects together. The man snorted and said, “Trying to fly away bird, I’m going to clip your wings if you do that too much. Then you won’t be able to run, ever.” y/n slowed her movements,  not willing to test the huge man in front of her. y/n swallowed thickly and looked from Mr. M.’s passive face to his hands holding the mismatched objects. The intimate and the violent. The man watched her eyes,  tracked their movements, and when he saw where they landed he genuinely laughed and said, “I told you before, I didn’t like doing those things to those girls. It was to make a point. Touching people intimately is my least favorite idea of a ‘good time.’ I just plan on making him think I’ve had you that way. Send him a little surprise gift and watch as he tries to process his loss of that part of you.” Somehow this response baffled y/n’s sleepless brain even more. Who the hell on the team wouldn’t be upset if she got assaulted in that way? If fact y/n could imagine each member of the team taking Mr. M out in rather lurid ways. It was stupid, but it gave y/n comfort and she even smiled softly at the thought of Derek beating the man up, or Spencer setting some kind of trap of wits for him. M. saw her happy look, and struck her face with the back of his fist, now only a foot from her body. He sneered and said, “‘he’ won’t be as happy as you are right now when he gets our present.” M grabbed her left arm, placed the tip of the knife on her forearm, and pressed it into her skin. The man drew a line down her wrist. 

The red liquid bubbled up and out of the wound like a stream. The cold of the freezer numbed the pain a bit. In fact, the feeling of the hot blood dripping down y/n’s arm was warming and she would have spread it over her arm if she was just a bit more tired. However, she didn’t have the chance as M grabbed her arm in a vice grip, and with his other hand, grabbed her panties. He ran the crotch of her undergarments over her fresh cut, spreading blood over the inside seam. He then dropped them to the ground and turned her arm over. He pinched at the wound, causing the bleeding to increase and easing large red droplets onto her already-soiled underwear. 

y/n felt disgusted at being used this way and said to fill in the oppressive silence, “I don’t think Derek will find this appalling, mainly he’d going to think it’s gross as fuck.” y/n hadn’t really meant Morgan, she’d just said the first name that popped into her head. As tough as Derek was, he wasn’t great with blood, just like Gracia. The slip was the best thing y/n could do as M dropped her arm and looked at her like she’d grown a second head. He shook his head and said, “Lord, and I thought ‘he’ liked you for your brain. It seems you may not have one up there. Dr. Reid is who I am referring to bird. Not agent Morgan. Derek couldn’t figure this out if you put all the pieces in front of him on a board.” 

y/n was astonished for a moment. Not only at the apparent racism of Mr M. but his other statement as well:  Spencer! This was about Spencer! How the hell this guy knew and had been wronged by her best friend on the team was beyond her. Certainly, Reid would have told her about him if they’d had run-ins in the past. They spent so much time together that they basically knew everything about each other. The weariness and pain were starting to get to y/n and she muttered as she closed her eyes, “Why would Spence care about this, he’s seen me on my period before. He’s gotten my sanitary products before, hell I bitch at him when I get cramps, and he takes it.” M stopped looking at the work of art which was y/n’s blood-soaked underwear and said, “You really are hopeless. And I don’t see the appeal to the good Doctor. He’s in love with you and you can’t even see it. Hopeless bird, I’ll take care of that though. You won’t have to think for much longer.” The vitality that y/n had been lacking came back in a rush of heat as M said that Spencer was in love with her. y/n sat up and took her injured arm and cradled it to her chest. The pain finally registered in her synapses. She let out a prolonged breath and said. “You think Spencer is in love with me? That’s a bit of a stretch.” y/n knew in the back of her mind that this might get her hurt more, or killed, but she was finally getting answers and perhaps if she had more answers she could do something with that. Actually use her brain, which the unsub had insulted she didn’t. 

M sighed and replied as if this was a normal conversation, “Bird, the data adds up. Dr. Reid puts himself in forty-three percent more danger when you are in a dangerous postion on a case. He puts himself in the line of fire for you over and over. At least five times by the records I’ve seen. Not only that, the chronically lonely young man who shuns women’s attention chooses to spend time with you above his other friends, even the likes of Morgan or Penelope. If that’s not the start of a crush, then I don’t know what is.” y/n looked up at the man with awe. Not so much at his intellectual prowess that he seemed to think he had, but at how stupid he sounded. Perhaps, maybe, maybe, there were some more feelings between y/n and Spencrs than friendship, but the other things he said were just crap. His use of statistics, and characterizing Reid as a lonely hermit was laughable. However, y/n was more aware than ever now, and this time she kept their mouth shut. She knew that saying those things out loud might likely get her knifed to death, and although the current situation was far from comfortable, she didn’t fancy dying. M hadn’t broken her yet, and now she was more determined than ever to live through this moment. 

The unsub noted that y/n had calmed down slightly and said, “I’ll be back shortly. I can’t let you or him rest too often now. I need to pick up the pace, but I need to send this little gift his way. Any loving words you want to tell him with my little letter? Perhaps it will give the Doctor some comfort.” The man said it sardonically, but y/n pulled herself together and tried to do her best acting and used a sorrowful tone as she said, “Tell him I’m sad it was my first time like this. I’d wished that we’d done it in Tanagra when we had the chance, but he knew I wasn’t ready. I won’t be ready.” y/n let the words slip off her tongue like she’d said them with a longing sadness and it put M at unease to see the odd shift in emotions; however, he shrugged his shoulders and replied cooly, “I’ll be sure to relay your sentiments.” 

Once the man had left the room with the knife, y/n lay back exhausted. The unsub had said he’d be back shortly, but maybe he was playing a game and he’d just leave her there to rot or starve. Either way, y/n needed to use this renewed time to think, and not just about the fact that she was trying to come to terms with the fact that she might love Spencer more than she’d allowed herself to do before. She needed to leverage this situation and not let those feelings overwhelm her. She’d already hopefully set one clue and one trap, she’d just need a bit more information to let the trap work. She pondered these things as she rubbed her skin which was slowly losing sensation as the minutes ticked by. 

When the package arrived at the precinct, the team was more prepared for it this time. The police stopped the carrier to ask him a plethora of questions while the team opened the box with some apprehension. Emily took on the role of the person who opened the box. Given the nasty surprise of the pictures of y/n in a state of complete undress in the first contact with the unsub, nobody wanted Spencer to get that kind of a shock again, even if the box was addressed to him alone. Inside the well-packaged cardboard parcel was a letter which Prentiss handed over to Morgan and then she pulled aside a good deal more pink tissue paper than was needed for the pair of underwear in the box. It took Emily and the team a moment to realize what they were given the blood had caked and dried, wrinkling the thin fabric into a distorted blob shape. The team looked at the item not so much with disdain as confusion. Some members of the BAU, JJ, Emily, and Penelope, had seen y/n in her underthings when they shared rooms in a busy hotel, but none of them, especially not Spencer, could immediately identify that they were y/n’s panties until M stated that directly, and implied that he’d done to y/n what he’d done to all his other victims before slowly killing them. 

This information did seem to shock and horrify the team until Derek read this part of the letter aloud with a hint of awkwardness, “And the little bird has a song for the doctor ‘I’m sorry that this was my first time, and that she wishes you had both done it in Tanagra.’ How unfortunate for both of you that that wasn’t the case…” Spencer cut Derek off before he could go into more grotesque details from the letter about what the unsub had done to y/n by saying, “Wait, wait, say that again.” Morgan paused and the team looked at Reid with questioning expressions. Derek repeated the last sentence, and Reid let out a soft breath in relief as he confidently said, “He didn’t touch her,” then under his breath, “thank God.” The BAU was more baffled than ever, and JJ looked over at the soiled underwear now back in the box getting ready for processing by the forensics lab. With hesitation, JJ replied, “Spencer, y/n’s underwear is telling a different story, as does the bruising on her body” 

The team was at a loss for what to think. y/n had been a reserved person far before she joined the team, and the reference that she might have had sex with Spencer, or wanted to have sex with Reid was not totally a shock, given that the BAU knew the two agents were in love, even if they didn’t. But for her to state it like that either showed signs of mental duress or something of that nature. It was just incredibly out of character for her to say anything like that to anyone, even the women on the team. Reid’s response was even more shocking as he said, “y/n’s had plenty of sex. She’s been in a lot of relationships before, so why would she say this was her ‘first time.’ That doesn’t make any sense. Also, I think she would have singled out something more extreme if she had been hurt in that way. It’s all too faux intellectual.” The team stood in stunned silence for a moment before Derek said, “And you and y/n talk about your sex lives often?” 

Spencer flushed at the intrusive question, realizing that he was putting a lot out there about his and y/n’s friendship. Things they may not have shared with other members of the team and kept between themselves. But this was a case where revealing some private details could save y/n’s life, and Spencer would rather die than lose y/n, so he replied steadily, “Yes. Sometimes. When we hang out we talk about our relationships. Why they worked or didn’t? How we’re, different.” Spence omitted the line, “How we can be hard to love.” He meant it more for himself than y/n, even though she echoed that sentiment whenever he brought it up. Spence never really got that. When they’d lay sprawled out under a blanket arguing about the symbolism in Dr. Who, or what the best adaptation of Jane Austen was, he felt like loving y/n would be the easiest thing in the world. Of course, he’d never said that to her either. The team was still silent when Reid came back from his internal journey and Hotch, who most of the time came forward and realized patterns and trends asked, “And Tanagra? Is it a small island or something? I’ve never heard of it before.” Spencer’s eyes moved up and he said, “It’s a reference to an episode of Star Trek we both like called ‘Darmok.’” The team looked at Reid for further clarification because, unlike Spencer and y/n, they didn’t go on overnight watches of Star Trek the Next Generation. 

Again, Reid reddened but patiently explained, “In the episode Captain Picard gets sent to a planet without any weapons. There’s another alien there as well. The Enterprise crew thinks it is some sort of setup, as does Captain Picard. But as it turns out, Picard and the alien, Dathon, need to come together to fight a common enemy. They end up beating the enemy, but Dathon dies. The moral is that they had to find understanding to become united, not only as fighters but as a species.” After Reid quickly gave his recap highlighting the plot and moral of the episode, the team, with the new information seemed to be revitalized, and put at ease. It was just a sliver of hope because y/n had managed to gain some way of communicating with them. Aaron cleared his throat and said, “Alright, Reid, and you Morgan take the letter. If y/n is sending any other covert messages then you should be able to find them.” Hotch felt the weight of pressure from this case on his shoulders and raised a hand to his forehead closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. Rossi saw his friend's distress and continued the conversation, “Aaron and I will go and check some of the places Garcia flagged as potential locations that y/n could be kept. JJ, you and Emily accompany the forensics team and get us the information once they have some, stat. Is that really y/n’s blood, are there any toxins present, all that? Okay?” Everyone nodded. Now that they all had a direction to go and a specific task to do, it felt more manageable. 

Despite the bright light and thanks to sheer exhaustion, y/n had managed to get a few hours of sleep at some point after being cut by M. She woke with the sound of the door opening. y/n had lost all track of time at this point. There were no windows to tell if it was night or day, and her circadian rhythms were off. Logically y/n knew that it couldn’t have been more than a few days, but at this point, it felt like a week at least. The constant stress, hunger thirst, and cold had drained her so much that she struggled to get up to a seated position to see what her captor was doing this time. M seemed uninterested in y/n, but he did glance at her, the door, and then at her again, as if taunting, “Try me.” The man had brought in a bigger load of items this time. Thanks to his size and strength, he could hold multiple trash bags and a backpack which he could handle all in one trip.

y/n watched M with apprehension and fear as he pulled out a multitude of lights and stands. M set up the lights like a makeup influencer might. M set what looked like extra bright lights in a square formation only a few feet off the ground. y/n bit her lip. If the man was planning on filming something, mainly her, she would be so close to the ground that it would be uncomfortable for him to have to lean down like that. The setup seemed to make no sense, and y/n didn’t like that. In interrogation training, she, along with new FBI agents, were instructed to mentally prepare for what was going to happen to them to better not spill state secrets. However, in this scenario, she couldn’t guess what would happen and it really wasn’t about her. It was about what her deteriorating mental and physical state would do to Spencer. She was important to the extent that she was important to Spencer. 

The unsubs plan became clear as he pulled out a makeshift stand that looked like a prop from a horror film where someone’s eyes get removed. The stand, which M set down and then slotted the wooden frame into was so heavy that even he grunted as he set it down with a loud clanking sound on the floor. y/n closed her eyes and began trying to move away and toward the exit. But y/n wasn’t fast enough. She felt like she was running in knee-deep water as she moved and was quickly grabbed by the hair and pulled to the center of the room. y/n muttered, “Please no, please…” Her cries fell on deaf ears as M bound her hands to the rough wooden post with zip ties so tight that they felt like the plastic was cutting into her wrists. y/n dipped her head down but it was jerked up again as M set her chin on a portion of wood with a cut out for her chin. Just close enough to the skin of her neck was a sharp piece of metal that would slice at her jaw and chin if she tried to move her head; effectively keeping it in place as the unsub lowered a heavy plate for her head and secured it with screws on either side of her face like a vice. When the lights were turned on they were so bright that y/n tried to pull her head back but was stopped by her constraints. Even with her eyes closed the light was searing hot into her retinas and there was no espacing it. Even though the light was bright, y/n took this time to try and pry more information from the unsub as he moved close by her. 

y/n asked with false confidence, “Why do you hate him so much. He certainly doesn’t talk about you.” y/n appealed to his sense of ego which worked. She could hear his heavy footsteps fall silent. There was a long pause and M finally said, “I’d hurt you for that, but I’m planning on that already. If you think this is bad now just wait.”

The words were meant to intimidate y/n, but she knew there was nothing she could do right now but get info and try and relay it to the team. So she stayed firm and didn’t show how scared she felt. Again the silence seemed like a gulf between them but M liked the sound of his own voice and he continued, “And I don’t like the doctor because he bested me. And you did too funnily enough even though I don’t care about you. I applied to the FBI Academy twice. As a Vet with an interrogation specialization, I thought I was the perfect fit, but what happened? Jason Gideon picks some lousy, scrawny kid, and appoints him to the BAU straight out of college, and he didn’t even go to the academy when I DID. Then they hire some woman who ends up leaving under dubious circumstances anyway and then you you -- whore. I don’t know who you had to suck off to get onto that team but both you and the good doctor took a spot that I deserved. I got stuck working at a local college teaching government classes, but I was planning this too. I didn’t want it, but by God am I going to make the FBI regret picking either of you above me, because neither of you will be fit to serve when I’m finished? And I’m far far from finished with you. After M said this, he opened y/n’s right eyelid and instantly she was blinded further. It was with the full intensity of the lights on her that y/n did feel like she might be broken. She didn’t know if she could handle this. But the team stayed in her mind and she grit her teeth. She’d signed up for this, and y/n did her best to remain strong for as long as possible and not lose herself. Not yet, not when there was hope. And if that hope took the form of Spencer Reid, so let it be, it could hardly be a secret to her anymore anyway. Not after this. 

By the time the team got their next message from Mr. M. a few things had happened. The first was that Hotch and Rossi had crossed out a few sectors and limited the range of where y/n was likely being held. The second was that Penelope had caught a red eye and came down from the Quanitco field office to be closer to the action. Lastly, Spencer and Derek had made a solid guess from the tone of both letters that the unsub was likely in the military or the police force and had changed career paths to something like office work or business. This would explain his blunt prose yet stilted attempt at sounding academic or over-intelligent. The team was unprepared for when loud music blasted in their ears when Penelope opened the unlisted video link on her computer. Everyone covered their ears, and Garcia quickly turned down the volume. The team watched in horror, and Pen almost felt like she was going to be ill as the unsub circled y/n with a handheld camera. He zoomed in on y/n’s eyes which seemed glued open and directly facing a very bright light.

y/n was panting like she couldn’t breathe and she hardly looked alive anymore. Not that she wasn’t alive, just that her face was either so pained or slack with the torment that she was being put through that she couldn’t take anymore. All eyes were glued to the gruesome sight and it took a moment for anyone to notice that the music had cut out and the unsub was speaking. Garcia let out a sharp breath, skipped the video back ten seconds, and then raised the volume again. Once the music was cut, and in a calm voice M stated, “Smile little bird, you’re on camera. Have anything to say to the doctor?” y/n’s mouth moved for a moment before she let out a small breath and screamed in a worn and hoarse voice, “Oedipus and his lover, Mr. Dimmesdale was great at his job.” y/n cut herself off with a lot of coughing at the effort of even speaking. Even trying to say something. M pulled the camera back to get a better wide angle of y/n as the unsub said, “Isn’t she great? She sings such a pretty song. I hope you’re enjoying it doctor because I don’t know if she’ll be singing much longer.” 

While most of the team paid attention to what the unsub was saying as a coping mechanism of not having to fully process the mental agony that y/n was going through, Emily paid closer attention. Suddenly Prentiss said loudly, “Roll it back Pen. y/n is mouthing something while the unsub is talking. I’ve almost made it out. I just need to see it once more.” The team, who was looking at Spencer to interpret what y/n had just signaled, and some of whom feared that y/n’s mind was already cracking beyond repair, looked back at the screen as Garcia went back once more. Penelope muted Mr. M, and everyone’s attention went back to y/n, who was clearly mouthing something. Prentiss said softly, and then more loudly, “There are four lights?”  Hearing this Spencer couldn’t stop the tears that came to his eyes with relief, and he sagged with those words. Derek and Rossi helped support Spencer, and the team huddled around him as he brushed the tears aside and said, “She’s okay. She’s saying she’s okay with the ‘four lights’ line. He hasn’t ‘broken’ her yet. At least not her will….” Reid couldn’t stop himself from saying, like it was an inside thing between just y/n and him, “It’s another Star Trek thing.” 

Another thrill rang through the team at this news. They knew y/n was strong, but she was also a good actress as she had played up her first statement. It became less and less of a surprise that y/n and Reid had spent so much time together. That they knew each other so well. This interaction was just solidifying what they had already assumed. But the picture of y/n’s eyes glued open and looking at the bright light also stayed with the team. Reid had his hands in his hair in frustration now trying to parse out the clues that y/n had left him, but he couldn’t fully match those pieces of information with any one person he knew. Dr. Reid did have some enemies, he did work for the FBI after all, but he didn’t think about them like that often. He didn’t just have people hating him enough to go and kidnap and torture the person he cared about the most. His brain didn’t process things like that even though he had calculated the risk every member of the team took with each case. And he did make sure y/n’s score was lowered thanks to him. But it wasn’t clicking because his brain was doing too much. Reid had jotted down a list of people that might come after him for various reasons and he’d given it to everyone in the BAU to see if they had any ideas. Of course, Penelope had made a whole spreadsheet and also found all the information about each person on the list as well. Spencer had gone over those fifteen names thousands of times now and was doing it again, trying to expand it to make something fit. 

Emily finally broke his train of thought and asked, “Spence, what about the other things y/n said? Is that more Star Trek stuff? It honestly sounded like a foreign language to me.” Only after Prentiss said this did Spencer realize that the rest of the BAU didn’t get all the references or implications in y/n’s words. Reid took a steadying breath while he composed himself. Aaron and Rossi simultaneously pulled out legal pads and pens to try and keep up with Reid’s speaking speed. Spencer started with the first part of y/n’s shouted sentence, saying, “Well. It’s kind of Star Trek. You actually just made me think of that Emily.” The parts and y/n’s wit began to click better and Spence continued, “We have to go back to the thing y/n said in her first letter about Tangra.” The team nodded and Hotch was already writing furiously, his hand gripping white on the pen in his grasp. “So Pircard can’t understand Dathon because their species speak only in metaphors, so I think y/n is giving us, me, a metaphor about who the unsub is.” This is where Hotch jumped in and said, “Then it’s not directly related to Trek. Just a way of signaling something. The first part of her metaphor was a reference to Oedipus Rex.” Everyone’s eyes moved to Aaron and they seemed surprised, but he brushed off their apparent shock at his classical literature knowledge and continued for those who didn’t get the reference, “Oedipus Rex is a tragedy about a prophecy that the son of a king will end of killing his father and marrying his mother. The king is horrified and has his newborn son, Oedipus, arranged to be killed. The man meant to kill him takes pity on the baby and spares him, thus many years later the prophecy comes true.” 

Spencer nodded along, and Garcia couldn’t stop herself from saying, “Wow, that’s really messed up.” Before Aaron could remind the technical analyst that it was a thousand-year-old work of fiction, Reid replied, “Yes, Oedipus does end up fulfilling the prophecy, but he didn’t want to. He doesn’t even know about it until later and he leaves his town to try and not fulfill his destiny, but he ends up doing that anyway. That’s why is a tragedy.” The team took in the information and Rossi offered, “So the unsub wanted to do the right thing but ended up doing the worst possible option?” Spence nodded along and then said, “And the second part about Mr. Dimmesdale being good at his job, I assume that’s a reference to The Scarlet Letter. Arthur Dimmessdale is the pastor who gets the protagonist pregnant and ends up being shunned from the Puritan society.” Emily asked, “So are we looking for someone who was thrown away for no reason? Or for doing something that appears bad?” Spencer nodded no, and thought through his list again, expanding it to the new parameters saying, “No. y/n specifically mentioned Dimmesdale, so I think we’re looking for a man. Clearly, Mr. Dimmesdale didn’t love his job because he did something that he shouldn’t have done either. He ends up having a breakdown because he can’t keep his secret. He ends up getting publicly humiliated.” 

The team thought for a moment and Penelope asked, “So is there someone you ended up humiliating enough to do something this horrible? I mean, not intentionally, but like when you were in grad school or at the Bureau? Anything?” Reid shook his head unknowingly. He couldn’t place someone he had specifically wronged except for those he’d put in prison, and thankfully many of those men and women were already dead or sentenced to life, but a picture started forming in Hotch’s head. The Unit Chief stated, “I don’t think you’d know him. Or have even met him, yet? Oedipus didn’t know his father when he killed him. He only figured that out later. So this is more about what you did to him than anything else.” Dave looked at Aaron and asked, “Do you have an idea of who he is?”  Hotch nodded and said, “Yes. This was while Jason was still here and you were ‘retired.’ You know Gideon hand-picked Spencer for the BAU much to the chagrin of the director. But it wasn’t only them, there were other members of the academy who wanted Reid’s spot. There were a few NATS that were more than flustered. Jason and I fielded quite a few complaints. There was one man in particular, an ex-Marine who threatened Gideon and me. That instantly excluded him from our recruiting, and once Gideon invited Reid, we started getting real threats. That man dropped off the map, but he continued sending threats through alternative accounts, and many were targets to you, Spencer. Garcia took care of them actually, took care of blocking them so you didn’t ever see them.” 

Spencer looked up at Hotch shocked and said, “Why didn’t you ever tell me this.” Hotch dropped his head and said, “You were so young Spencer. So much was happening in your life at that time and Jason and I thought it was for the best. I apologize. That was a mistake.” Reid let out a breath, knowing now wasn’t the time to be upset with Aaron. Instead, he asked, “Do you still have his contact information? Do you have anything at all on him?” Before Aaron could even reply, Penelope said, “I do. I keep everything, and this time it’s legal. Any threats that are filed against an agent or a former agent are kept in a database that I helped update.” Morgan said with a happiness he hadn’t felt since arriving in Kansas, “God bless you, woman. Now is the time to show us those computer skills of yours” Penelope smiled and turned back toward her screen, cracking her knuckles, “Glady my friends. Watch me do my thing.” 

y/n slumped onto the ground limp. When M finally released her from the contraption that had held her in place, y/n was too overwhelmed to do anything else but lie. Once the light in front of her had been turned off, she felt like she was in an abyss of black. Even though the man had unglued her eyelids after what felt like an eternity. Just being in front of the light with her eyes shut was still like looking at the sun without shades. Again time was a reality that had left y/n out of place, out of being. It could have been months or years since she’d been bound since she’d been put in this place. Because of the loud noise from the speakers M had brought in, y/n couldn’t hear him moving around. Her ears were constantly ringing even though the sound had ceased. Besides that, y/n didn’t have the energy to try and figure out what was happening around her; she knew whatever it was wasn’t good. At this point, y/n didn’t even feel she was in her own body anymore. She was somewhere else entirely. 

y/n didn’t register anything much apart from pain until the unsub, who had set up the room as a trap, started a livestream that he sent to Spencer, and kicked her in the side. The sharp pain radiated up y/n’s ribcage and she let out a moan though her voice was gone from screaming. Even M had to shout and shake y/n to get her to hear him say, “I’m letting you go. All you have to do is get to the door. You’re useless to me now. I don’t see your doctor coming to save you, so you might as well get out. I guess you’re not as important to him as I thought you were.” Deep down, y/n knew that the man wouldn’t let her go. She’d not leave this place alive. She also knew she was special to Spencer. That he would do anything for her, and that he and the team were still looking for her, but she was so tired and mentally broken that she began to believe it. It felt like for no reason other than to just move instead of being killed not trying, that y/n began to move on the floor. She was too weak to even get on her hands and knees.

Instead, she just moved on her stomach in a direction even though she couldn’t see anything except bright spots covering most of her vision. The rest was so blurry that it only added to the migraine she already had. y/n hardly noticed that there was glass on the ground until the warmth of the blood from her stomach made her realize in horror that she was crawling on a sea of broken glass. y/n stopped and M began berating her for not being strong enough. Not having the willpower to want to get away. That he had won. It took the last of y/n’s strength to speak her mind. To tell the man the truth. She knew it would get her killed, faster, but she would have a clear mind. 

“You’re an idiot.” Y/n couldn’t hear her own voice, but she assumed M was listening and she didn’t let anything he did distract her from continuing, “You are the dumbest person I’ve met. You got Spencer all wrong. You don’t understand him at all. He might like me, and I like him too, but Spence isn’t some weirdo who doesn’t have any friends. He doesn’t stay up at night plotting revenge on people or thinking of zany puzzles because he’s so bored and doesn’t have friends. Spencer is a smart guy, but that intelligence doesn’t push him away from people or relationships. He’s just a smart guy who works for the FBI. It’s clear to me that you’re the weirdo with no friends, and you’re just going to have to accept that you couldn’t cut it in the FBI, forever. It sucks to suck.” Mr. M moved to grab a knife he had brought in the room to finish the job. He couldn’t handle y/n insulting him,  and he was going to finish her off, slowly. He had very little restraint when he was scorned. Before he could get to y/n, he was knocked back by a load of gunfire as the BAU along with a SWAT team swarmed into the room. y/n was so far gone that she couldn’t even tell as Reid knelt next to her and wept. 

The next few days stretched into apparent eternity for many of the team. y/n was taken immediately to the hospital, accompanied by Spencer and Emily, while Derek and Aaron took the unsub into custody for interrogation and criminal proceedings. Rossi, JJ, and Penelope stayed behind to handle the police presence, forensics teams, and clean-up process. In part, the BAU was relieved to find y/n still alive, it was a weight lifted, but the reports from y/n’s team of doctors at the hospitals painted such a picture of pain and mental suffering that y/n must have endured that it broke their hearts. How they could ever forgive themselves for what had happened, to y/n? They didn’t know. But they had to keep moving because that was what the job required. That was the nature of the work, and they all prayed that y/n would get better, and also understand what they had to do. 

Spencer felt shielded from most of the work side of things, as he stayed mostly at the hospital and heard the doctors and nurses' multifaceted and comprehensive care plan for y/n with the majority of it working on how to deal with y/n’s partial loss of vision, mental health, PTSD, and the chronic pain that would likely come in the months ahead. Spencer took in this information and researched and planned and found medical trials and anything that he thought might help. He mostly did this to fill the time. y/n had been put in a medical coma to help facilitate her physical healing. Spencer knew in the end that no amount of research he did it would but y/n It would be up to her to want to keep living after this. And given all that she’d been through, he wouldn’t blame her if she decided to just be whatever was left of herself because of him. Reid was trying to take in the very real possibility that she might never want to see him again given that being his friend had made this fate happen to her. Spence was only out of the hospital when another member of the team tagged him out for a day or a few hours. Even then, Spencer didn’t rest. He just tossed and turned. 

When y/n was taken out of her coma four days later, it was Penelope who was there when her fingers twitched on the sheets and felt the crisp material. y/n’s eyes opened, seeing only the blurred brightness of the room which she quickly closed them again. Garcia leaned forward in her chair and said softly, “I’m here y/n. You just rest for now.” Penelope stayed with y/n for the next few hours as the doctors and nurse checked on y/n’s vitals and her sight and she lay exhausted in every way, just let these things happen to her. Her mind was somewhere else. It wasn’t in the hospital room, part of it was still on the team, like an outsider looking in, and part of it was at her apartment watering the one plant she’d kept alive since college, and another was in the park where they sold a t/c/s that she loved to drink and people watch with, but the majority of her brain was still in that freezer, waiting for death, waiting for the worst to happen. And even though part of her mind knew she was alive and being helped, it couldn’t register beyond what had happened to her. y/n stayed in this state of being in and out of herself and her body for another day. The next time y/n came back to herself, it was still Penelope sitting by her. 

Garcia came back into the waiting room where Spencer was, as always, sitting and waiting for news, waiting for anything. Penelope walked over to him and leaned over his seated form. Reid looked up at her, his brown eyes lit up slightly. He asked something quietly back and Penelope nodded her head. Spencer got up and shook out his legs. They’d gotten stiff with all his awkward sitting positions. He followed Garica and a nurse to y/n’s room and took the place where the blonde and spunky Technical analyst had been for the last two hours. The nurse gave Reid a few words before leaving the room. The mood shifted a bit. Penelope just lit up a room where as Spencer brought a more calm mood to the room. He looked around the space which he’d seen while y/n was unconscious. It was still light, a sad beige color, and lots of pretty soft flowers from the team and friends. It seemed that Reid could look everywhere but y/n. The nurse and Penelope had both warned him that y/n still hadn’t said a word since she had woken up apart from his name. Reid didn’t expect y/n to just become whole because he was near her, but the fact that y/n had called for him had given him hope. But as his eyes finally landed on her face which was healing from the heavy bruising she’d received, her eyes remained mostly closed, but every now and then they opened, took in whatever they could, and then closed again. One time she turned her head slightly toward Spencer, and he wondered if she could even see him, or if she knew he was there. 

It wasn’t until the next day that y/n said in a very soft and hoarse voice, “Spence?” that Reid looked up from his lap and shifted forward in his chair. He didn’t want to be imagining things, but y/n’s voice had been so faint that he could have just made his name up. Anyhow, he softly replied, “Yes, y/n. I’m here.” y/n swallowed and turned her face toward him. She couldn’t see him, but she’d left like he was there. It didn’t seem like Penelope anymore but given how she’d felt, and the things that weren’t real that she’d seen before being saved had messed up her sense of reality. Hearing Spencer’s response helped, and she held back a sob as she asked, “How do I know you’re real? How do I know if any of this is real?”

Spencer desperately wanted to take her hand and reassure her that everything was going to be fine, but he didn’t want to promise things he couldn’t guarantee. He also knew touching y/n might make her nervous and panicked. Spencer looked over y/n and replied, “It’s real because you know it is. Because you’re strong enough to wake up and talk. Because maybe life isn’t so cruel to let this be a dream for either of us.” y/n turned her head toward him again and tried to make out his face. She’d have liked to see what he looked like right now. Was he sad, relieved, or feeling as empty as she was? She wanted to know because she didn’t know how to feel or act or do. For now, there wasn’t more than resting and waiting to see if this was all a charade. To see if she’d suddenly jerk awake to see death in the face again. To be back with M. again. For now, she let out a sigh and tried to feel anything in her body. Her pain receptors were either shot from what she’d been through or she was on so much pain medication that it was intentional. Either way seemed preferable, and yet the pain had grounded her in her time in captivity and now that it was gone there was a strange void where it had pulsed all over her body. y/n rested her head in a more comfortable position and let the sleepiness come back to drag her back under. 

The rest of the BAU shuffled through sitting with y/n as Spencer got his mandated rest and time off ordered by Aaron. The presence of the others and the changes in the atmosphere with each of them helped y/n pull herself back together. The next time Spencer came back she was slightly more herself. She was sitting up on a few pillows and she sensed when Reid stepped into the room. They sat together for a few minutes in silence before y/n said, “The last time you were here you said I was strong. But I don’t feel strong Spencer. I feel broken. I mean I am broken. I can’t see anything and my hearing’s shot too.” Reid bit his lower lip and thought for a bit before responding. He could tell her that she was very likely to get her hearing back and that her vision would improve in time. That with time and care she could resume a pretty normal life. 

But a pretty normal life didn’t feel fair. None of this felt fair, and Spencer knew that. He also knew that the team in charge of y/n’s care would have told her that as well. They would have been doing everything that would attempt to boost her spirits. As it was like Spencer to do, he chose to go with a more metaphorical take on things. It was one of the things that had drawn y/n to him in the first place, and he hoped it would bring her comfort now. He focused on her hands which were gripping the sheets tightly as he said, “No one chooses to be broken y/n. That’s not their fault, but that doesn’t mean that the thing isn’t beautiful, it’s just changed.” y/n let out a breath and said, “I’m not Fitzgerald or Beethoven. I don’t think the tortured broken artist thing will work for me. I’m just a profiler. Was just a profiler.” Spencer could see the disappointment and pain on her face, and he replied, “Not that exactly, but your knowledge about art and literature did make it possible for us to find you. I was useless on this case, and I’m so, so sorry for that. You saved yourself on this one, and given what you’ve been through, you deserve a good life after this, a peaceful life if you want it.” 

y/n wanted to believe Spencer, but his speech so far was giving, “A broken clock is correct twice a day,” and that wasn’t the most uplifting thing she’d heard so far. She didn’t know what she wanted after this. Didn’t know how to want anything after she’d thought she would die over and over again. However, y/n knew that Spence wasn’t done yet. It was a tell in his cadence, and just as y/n expected, he continued, “Have you ever heard of kintsugi?” y/n nodded her head no, and Reid explained, “It’s a form of Japanese pottery. When a plate or vase or anything that’s been fired breaks; the potter puts the pieces back together with gold.” y/n let out a breath, it sounded like a beautiful thing, and it was a nice metaphor, but her pessimistic side said, “So I’m just a broken thing and painted pretty so I’m not a profit-loss?” Spencer sighed and said, “No. What I’m trying to say is that. What I’m trying to say is that things that are broken still have value and beauty. They still deserve to be cared for and looked after. They’re different, but it’s still a precious thing. It is to me at least.”

y/n couldn’t hold back the tears that were now overspilling from the corners of her eyes, and she moved her hand out, palm open. An invitation to let Spencer take it, which he did. Spencer bowed his head over their joined hands and y/n felt his soft hair on her skin. It was the first time she’d felt grounded since waking up. It was the first time she felt real again. y/n sniffled and said, “I don’t know what to do Spence. I don’t know who I am anymore.” Reid nodded and said while gently squeezing her hand said, “I know. And you don’t have to know that right now. Every part of you is still there, but it’s going to be a hard time to dig those things back out of yourself. Maybe some of them you’ll want to leave behind. But I want to be with you as you try to become this new version of you. If you’ll let me. I was such an idiot y/n. I’m so sorry,” y/n nodded and said, “Don’t be. I don’t regret it, Spencer. It’s worth it to know you. I want you here, please.” 

Spencer nodded, and y/n felt tears that weren’t her own on her hand and arm now as Spence ever so lightly brushed his lips over her knuckles. Neither of them said it, but the love in the room was so much more than what it had been before. Perhaps it wasn’t the fluffy teenage love they could have had if none of this had happened, but it was clearer now than ever, and that was worth it. There was a future in that, whatever it looked like. After a few moments y/n asked, “Can you read to me? I knew you had a book in your lap before I said anything and the quiet is slowly driving me insane.” Spencer sat up and said, “Well it’s just a collection of Ginsberg poems and I know you don’t like Ginsberg.” y/n scoffed lightly and retorted, “What do you mean, I love Ginsberg.” Reid shook his head and said, “Liar.” y/n pouted like a child at being read so easily and said, “Fine, but maybe I love Ginsberg when you’re reading him to me. Please?” Spencer chuckled and said, “Anything for you, y/n. Anything.” As Spencer began reading, and y/n listened, neither of them thought about the future or the past, they were just there, and for now, that was as meaningful as gold holding something broken yet precious together.

Text Break Banner by @cafekitsune

Taglist: 🩷 @tgskitten, @princessjax, @maisyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

Want to be added to my tag list? Please check out this post (linked) 

Want to send in a request? Please check out this post, CM Request Post (linked)

[maximumkillshot]

I Can't Lose You-Chapter 13

Warnings: Non really! Just some A quality fluff, there is some references to hard times, other than that, nothing.

Pairing: Changbin x Reader???

Characters: All boys minus Chan

A/N: Okay this is super fluffy dare I say brush your teeth after. Enjoy!

I Can't Lose You Masterlist-CLICK HERE

Stray Kids Masterlist-CLICK HERE

ALL WORK IS UNDER ME AND MY BLOG. DO NOT TRY TO REPUBLISH OR STEAL MY WORK, AS THAT IS COPYRIGHTED UNDER ME AND IS CONSIDERED COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT WHICH IS A PUNISHABLE OFFENSE. 

ANY WORK THAT YOU SEE ON OTHER SITES THAT ARE MY WORKS PLEASE NOTIFY ME IMMEDIATELY.

It was the soft light of dawn that stirred Changbin from sleep. He felt a warm weight on his bicep, his hand aching from the bruises on it. He made sure not to flex it as he turned his head to see the owner of that warm weight. He smiled to himself, looking at you, your body angled towards him, your angel plush koala’ed with your head on his bicep. 

He fought the yawn trying to escape him as he looked at you. You always rested so beautifully. He could watch you for hours, if he was any good at art he would have a studio full of different mediums of the same subject, you. The walls would be covered with photos, paintings, and drawings of when you’re resting, awake, laughing… That was his favorite, it would look like someone turned on a light in a dark room. You always looked like that, too. 

He almost giggled to himself when he thought about how much of an opposite to you he was. He never slept gracefully. Mostly landing on the opposite side of the bed where he started from and limbs either starfished or belly down smothering himself in the pillow. He was wondering if there was anyone else that he knows that looks as pretty as you do sleeping. Jisung looks cute but not pretty. Hyunjin looks almost angry as he sleeps, Minho can sleep with his eyes open which is just unsettling at times, I.N. sleeps in a ball (fox fits him perfectly), Chan looks catatonic, Minnie looks peaceful, but also slightly angry, Lixie however. He slept pretty. Sometimes Bin would love it when Lix would choose him as a pillow, especially during touring. Lix was always so nervous, so much so that sometimes Bin would get a call from his sunshine twin for help. Felix couldn’t sleep without cuddling him. So most days Bin would Tell I.N. goodnight after a shower and head to Lix’s room. He remembered just after day 2 of a Los Angeles show Felix showed up to his room. One minute they were talking, the next Bin woke up to Lix flattened like a pancake between the wall and himself. He remembers trying to move away from Lix’ and hearing Felix groaning and saying, “Hyung… no come back,” with grabby hands. He remembered looking down at him and saying, “You need to breathe Yongbok-ah” as he chuckled. Felix looked up and smirked as he said, “I’m breathing, now come back…” as Felix locked onto him. There Changbin was stuck for the better half of an hour as Felix went back to sleep. 

Also like Felix, you would sleep like a rock next to Changbin, but when Changbin would wake up or even shift, your eyes would open, making sure he wasn’t leaving. If he was, he would need to either bargain or say where he was going. Changbin, now that he thinks about it, recognizes that you and Felix have a very unique relationship. It’s not just because you have a unique relationship with each one of the members either. You and Felix have been through a lot, him being the first you called a friend. There was a lot of culture shock when you moved from New York to Seoul. Felix stood up with you through all of the jetlag and, although you could speak Korean in a limited capacity before you moved, it was nowhere near what you needed to speak to survive. 

Felix rented an apartment with you until you could get on your feet, so you didn’t feel so alone in a foreign country. He also did exercises with you in Korean, so you could learn the language better. He helped you form shortcuts for memorizing the Hangul and even helped you with the more advanced speaking by watching K-dramas with you. He’d pause it every few seconds to teach you about what you just heard. It’s because of Felix that you speak fluently after five years. Bin remembered those moments, coming over the apartment to help teach you. He knew there was nothing else expected behind Felix’s kindness aside from, “I understand that it’s hard, let me take some pressure off, yeah?” He could practically hear the thick Aussie accent as he reminisced. 

Changbin looked at your hands, he could see the signs of anxiety healing on them. He knew all too well how your anxiety slams into you. You pick at your nails at times and your nails are short because of it, it’s something you’ve been trying to work on since you had teeth. However, now they seem to be healing. That made him feel good. They were a representation of your mood, your healing process. It was not often that he looked at you without a pang of guilt, however. Lately, it’s still touch and go. He always felt a slight worry at the fact that you were married to Chris and not himself, now it’s full blown panic, rightfully so. If he was married to you he would be able to be closer to you, make sure you’re happy; now that line was blocking him. He knew the line was there, he felt it in the earth between the both of you. That line that used to be so defined, now blurring. That guilt shifting focus, instead of guilt for looking at you fondly, now morphing into guilt about this entire situation. If he would’ve spoken up, you wouldn’t be like this. If he would’ve said what Minho, Felix, Han, and himself were thinking; you wouldn’t be here. 

There were so many times that he’s found you in the midst of a panic attack, on edge thinking Chris would come home, just to have the rug snatched from under you. Sometimes he’d see you choking back tears as you are doing dishes, seeing no sign of Chan’s favorite mug, meaning he never came home. Smelling his cologne in the morning was the worst. Bin would find you curled on Chan’s side of the bed, asking why he left without saying anything. Questioning your worth. There was no stability for you, no peace. He wanted to tell you to get a divorce so many times. It was something that everyone who spent time with you wanted to scream. Seeing you suffer was and still is torture. Bin never knew how to bring it up though. He knows that you said that you’d leave Chan… But would you?

The press, the company, the fans, all of them would tear you apart. It’d be a massacre, if anything. The company made a show of it. The first public K-Pop couple, going public willingly. “The king and queen of K-Pop”, Chan from the Stray Kids falls in love with one of the best photographers in the business… The headlines made Bin choke at first. It shouldn’t have been that title, this situation, that circumstance. Chan’s hand should’ve never been in yours. Chan’s knee should’ve never touched the Earth, his hand should’ve never reached in his pocket to fish out a tiny black box. More than anything, the press should’ve never known anything. The backlash wasn’t terrible, with Chan protecting you for once. But now? That made his heart rate pick up. 

He wanted to keep you here. Safe and content, sleeping on his arm in the dawn of the morning in the middle of a living room floor. Hair tousled, surrounded by plushies, cradling you as you rest. No, not here, he refused to think about it. He refused to believe that anything bad would happen to you, not in his arms, in the safe space he made for you the same moment he met you. The past three days have been from Hell, yet you and him found strength in each other. He goes back to the second episode, the way you clung onto him, your hand barely able to fit half of his forearm. You stood here for him. You breathed for him. All because he asked you to. You fell fully expecting no one to catch you, since Chan never did. Instead, just like the plushies, his boys, your boys, caught you. Bin lunged for you, grabbed your hand and didn’t let go. He refused to, not after what he saw. What you went through. Not with how much he loves you.

Love is a strong word, now that Bin thinks about it. It’s unconditional. When you truly love someone, you don’t care about the ‘what’s’in life. What if someone found out, what if something happens, what are the risks? None of them matter. What matters is that person. He can’t remember a day after he met you where his needs ever superseded your own. It was natural to him. Do you need help carrying something? He’ll carry it all! Do you need an opinion on this photo? He drops all of his responsibilities for you. Chan never loved you. That pang in Bin’s chest came back. He had to face it. Yes, Chan never loved you. Yes, Chan used you as a tool, a tactic. Yes, he broke you. If anything, Chan was shitty at acting like he cared, but everyone didn’t want to see it, yourself included. Not anymore. 

You have gone through too much to be treated like an afterthought. Bin will chase any monster away, he’ll fight anyone who tries to come near you with any other motive other than to help you. You shifted a little in your sleep and your hair fell from your now messy bun. He smiled seeing the scrunch of your nose as a strand of hair tickled you. He laid on his side to completely face you. He gently moved the offending strand out of the way, drinking in your presence. You sighed happily and your nostrils flared, chasing Bin’s hand slightly. Bin knew what you wanted, he cupped your face gently as you smirked, still in sleep. It’s these little things that melt Changbin. The fact that even when sleeping you miss the people you love, even if they’re right next to you. You do the same thing to Hannie and Lixie as well. Mere seconds later you shivered. You blindly turned around, angel in hand and got closer to Changbin, making yourself the little spoon. Changbin used two plushies as stacked pillows so he could rest his head as he cuddled you.

“Warmer?” Bin asked as he looped his hand over your body and the angel, his arm resting in the dip of your waist. He had a smile creeping on his face, he was like Chan in the right circumstances, a literal furnace. So resting with him was the best. Like a heated pillow and blanket draped over you. He knew that when you’re cold you seek warmth, especially when drowsy so he was waiting for you to start to migrate closer to him.

Soon your shivers stopped as you said, “mhm thanks Binnie” and you kissed his bicep, your version of a “thank you” as you melted into Bin’s chest. That interaction, once again, isn’t new. You kiss everyone, in appropriate places of course. It’s just how you are. If you’re cuddling with Hannie you peck him on the palm of his hands, if it’s Lixie or Minho, it's the cheeks all day every day. For Bin you peck his chest and arms. Bin as well as the others communicate the same way with you, Bin’s favorite places are the crown of your head and your forehead. Most of the boys follow suit with that tight parameter, except for Innah who will peck your hands, your fingers, whatever is accessible, even on the shoulder if you are cooking or something. 

Bin caught him pecking your shoulder once as a thanks and he yelled, “Yah! What makes you so special??”, just to hear you say, “Aye! Don’t yell at my baby! Lookathim, he’s just a baby,” you cooed as you squished his cheeks and scratched his scalp. I.N. just had a shit eating grin as he said, “Hyung, why are you mad at me? I’m just a baby…” Bin just said, “yeah tell that to your browser history.” You immediately went into a fit of laughter as Innah said, “How do you know about that??” Bin just looked at him and yelled, “get off the group email, you degenerate!” Bin, when he couldn’t get to your head, like that night, he’ll kiss your hands as he holds them. He remembered and held onto the memories between you and the boys, smiling as he watched you in your sleep. 

Eventually Minho got up and took a picture of course, Bin didn’t care though, as long as you weren’t disturbed. A little after Minho came and went, Hannie popped out of Lix’s room, he had an intent to his movements.

 See, there is this thing Hannie does. As soon as he gets up he is very cuddly, not to anyone else except you. He always saw you as his sister, the one he never had. It’s because of that he has this need to make sure you’re okay and he does that by early morning cuddles. That all started after you asked if you could sleep in one of the boy’s beds at night, missing the feeling of a body next to you. Han noticed that whenever you were either in your bed or Bin’s he would wake up with anxiety, his hands searching for you before his eyes even opened. It only dawned on him recently that for the first two weeks of asking, every night you approached Hannie. When he asked you why you hadn't asked Bin or Jinnie, you had said that you didn’t know how to ask Bin. Eventually, you did get around to asking Bin and he was fine with it. Hannie always knew mornings were the worst for you. He walked in many times, just like Bin did, when you’d be crying on Chan’s pillow. He noticed you didn’t do that when there was a body next to you. It didn’t matter how disheveled either of them looked, you would cuddle up and fall right back to sleep peacefully. 

The first time Han did this, he found you in your morning ritual of crying, then you felt the bed behind you dip, knowing it wasn’t Chris but one of the boys. You could even tell which one, it was Han. He always stepped lighter around you, especially when you were crying or sad. He knew that you would get startled otherwise. His heart only cracked further when you didn’t flinch or question who it was. Han didn’t say anything, he just delicately dug his hands into the ball you made of your body and he dragged you to himself.  He covered the both of you with the blankets and he whispered, “You don’t need that Anya, let that go for me. Come here, hold on to me… there you go... Good job Anya”. You let go of your husband’s pillow and grabbed on to Hannie, digging into his chest as you cried. His deep rumble soothing you as he said, “I’m so sorry, my heart breaks Anya. You don’t deserve this. Worth so much more. I got you, breathe.” Ever since then, Han always searched you out in the mornings. 

Hannie looked at Bin and yourself and laid down on the makeshift bed as he made himself known. At this point it’s so routine that you don’t even get startled. Hannie just turned you so you were now facing Bin, and Hannie dragged you to himself, gently of course.

“Hannie?” You groaned. You were so warm and all you could register was the feeling of being moved. You knew it was Hannie, you smirked to yourself as you waited for him to announce himself. Bin looked at the pair of you and couldn’t help but smile. This ritual that you and Hannie had was probably the cutest thing he has seen. The fact that it’s now routine is something that makes him so happy. The fact that all of the boys love you so much, it makes him not only proud of the boys, but it makes him happy to know that you will always have someone in your corner.

Han just whispers, “Mhm it’s me Anya, get some sleep, just holding you, that okay?” Forever the gentleman asking permission. You nodded and he pulled you in, the last thing you remembered was the momentary cold of the comforter as you were being pulled.  All that you registered after that was the rumble of the warm chest behind you as he spoke softly to Bin. After that you passed back out instantaneously. 

“How did she sleep?” Han asked. He was worried about how the first night went. He didn’t want you to feel crowded, which is why he slept on Lix’s floor, no comforter but he packed his sleeping bag in his overnight bag so he had no problem sleeping there.

“Good, I think.” Bin responded. Luckily Bin slept a little better, but he wouldn’t tell anyone about the sudden episodes, waking with a need to feel you close to him. The last thing he remembers of the nightmares being images of Chris trying to get to you. Some being of you unmoving, or of you willingly letting go of him. Those times he was so grateful that you wanted him to be in the bed with you. He’d immediately feel you close and he'd pass back out, not needing to open his eyes. 

“That’s good.” Han said. He could see it in Bin’s eyes. He’s been friends with him for almost a decade, in a lot of ways they grew up together, Bin may be good at hiding, but not good enough to hide from Han. “So are you going to tell me what is going on in your head now, hyung?” Han looked down, petting your hair back as he waited for the answer. 

“Just trust me when I say you don’t want any of the ideas implanted in your head, Han. I know I am not okay right now. As soon as she starts therapy, I’m going right after her,” Bin’s face was hard as he looked at Han, if he didn’t have that scowl on his face, he knew he’d collapse. “I’m sorry I scared you earlier… I should have more composure than I did.” Han knew exactly what he was talking about. Han was terrified in that waiting room, seeing Bin’s entire demeanor shift. His happy, funny, go lucky brother… just gone, replaced with anger, pain, suffering incarnate. 

Han looked at him, “I’m not going to lie, it did terrify me, you meant every word of what you said.” He saw Bin’s eyebrows drop, his lips went from tight to relaxed, almost downturned as his jaw clenched momentarily, his mouth opened in a tiny breath. Han continued, “But you also need to know that your reaction is justified. You had and still have every right to be enraged. It’s not your fault that all of this happened. Chris is a manipulator, he had this show well rehearsed. We didn’t see it. We all didn’t see it Bin. So please don’t blame yourself, because it’s just like what Y/N told Minho, we aren’t responsible for another man’s actions.”

“I don’t know why he did it. I keep on racking my brain. She did everything possible to make him happy. She tore herself apart for him.” Changbin always had that in the back of his head whenever he had time to himself. Even if he was just using the restroom, he couldn’t fathom why. That was when Changbin realized, anything you did, wasn't going to be enough. You already gave him so much yet he just didn't care. He wanted more, like a black hole in your life. You can never fill a glass with a hole in the bottom.

Han said, “The why doesn’t matter. What matters is her.” He tilted his head to you, “I got a call from management, they’re giving us two months off. Apparently Chris let them know what happened.” Bin’s jaw opened and Han cut him off before a syllable could be uttered, “I asked them specifically what he said, they told me. The story he gave checked out. He told them the truth. Which honestly scares me more, Bin.” Changbin’s heart dropped once he heard that. “Oh God. Okay. I’ll talk to PR and see what the plan is.” He responded. “I’ll do it later though. I… we just need peace right now. I need to go out. Get her some sanitary items and I’m going to grab more medicine, a heating pad, all of that.” This isn’t Bin’s first rodeo, he has an older sister who basically taught him everything about the reproductive system. Bin has also shared a bathroom with you for years so he already knows your size, your flow throughout it, all of it. 

Since you were now cuddling Han, Changbin is now free. Knowing he had a few things to do he grabbed his overnight bag and opened it. Grabbing his shower gel, toothbrush, change of clothes and his razor. Bin hasn’t ever been more excited to shower and shave. He hasn’t done things like that since the morning of when it happened.  

He headed to the shower and set up. As he undressed his mind was blank. He was focused on getting you what you need and coming back as quickly as possible. Bin was in the shower for a while, letting it seep into his bones. He could feel the sensation start in his throat. The recognizable tightness in his throat, his heart heavier than the previous time he had this urge. His breathing ragged, he wondered what he could’ve done differently, he didn’t want to lose you. Logically, he knew he wouldn't. But would you hold it against him for not saying anything about what he was feeling about the marriage? Would you hate him? He could hear you laugh and see your smile as his chest tightened. He saw all of the looks on your face that night and the pain that he tried to quell. He tried to remind himself that this isn’t his fault. He couldn’t hold it in anymore as he let the sobs rack his body silently. He focused on the sound of the water hitting all around him in the shower.

After letting some of it out. He looked up, letting the water rain down on him. It allowed him to breathe. He felt better after he finished his shower. As soon as he looked in the mirror on the wall just above the sink he realized something. Changbin hasn’t looked in a mirror in days. His eyes always focused on you. He wiped the steam away as he saw himself. His face dusted with the beginnings of a 5 o’clock shadow, his hair wet and already looking a little curly. He also noticed the slightest bags under his eyes, which didn’t surprise him. He reminisced at how obsessed you were over his curls. 

You yourself helped him with his hair routine when you noticed how crunchy the curls were. You ran to the store to get all the necessary hair products and you taught him how to relax the curls and not fight them. He looked at the products laid out in front of him smiling. After he styled his hair he headed out.

It was maybe an hour later that the house came back to life, well relatively. Han wanted you to sleep as much as possible so he scolded whoever came in and made too much noise. It was only so long Minho could hold out though, so he decided to make Hotteok, a close to American pancake filled with sugar, walnuts, and cinnamon. For yours he put in extra things like dark chocolate, berries, and mango, for your iron count. Everyone else got the basic version. Which Han grumbled about but Minho just ignored him. As Han went to the restroom you stirred at the sounds and smells in the kitchen. You felt behind you for Han and you didn’t find him, so you reached in front of you, knowing Binnie was there, but he wasn’t. 

You opened your eyes reluctantly as you got your bearings. You couldn’t really grasp that Bin could possibly be out but all you know is that your nose is still a little sensitive. For some reason you are craving Changbin’s scent. It happened a few times when you were carrying, but the urge was never this bad. You needed to smell his fresh scented cologne and the slight hint of him, the perfect combo you’d always get when you’d nestle into his neck. 

You tried smelling his pillow, the scent too faint to quench your craving. You smelled the comforter and it wasn’t near enough for you. Then you saw him. You grabbed the plush and buried your face in it. It was exactly what you needed, taking a deep breath in and relaxing. You got up slowly, your body still sore. You grunted as you finally made it to your feet. You heard Minho humming in the kitchen and decided on going there. 

Minho could hear the pattering of bare feet behind him. Then your sleepy voice spoke out, “MinMin?” Minho turned around and smiled softly at you, then he noticed what was in your hands.

“Beautiful? Why are you holding Gyu?” he asked as he worked on filling the pancakes.

You replied in the smallest voice, “Smells like him. Where’s Binnie?” Minho’s face softened hearing you say that. All of the boys knew that your cravings were still ongoing but it was something new that you craved smells too,well, to Minho at least. You had this problem even when you were still carrying, you would enlist Seungmin’s help. Seungmin’s scent was something you were obsessed with in the first month. Seungmin, of course being the friend he is, researched why you needed to smell him, finding that yes scents are a part of pregnancy cravings. Some days you would just ask to smell him and he had no problem coming over just for you to cuddle up to him on the couch for a few hours, unintentionally rolling around in his grip like a cat rolls in catnip.  Whenever Seungmin caught you doing that he would poke fun at you, but in all honesty it was the cutest thing he’s seen.

“Changbin went out to get you some things. He should be back soon.”

“Ok… what are you making?” You asked as you tried to see what he was up to.

“Breakfast, I’m making yours with mango, berries, and dark chocolate.” He said as you smiled excitedly. You heard Han’s voice behind you, “I told you not to wake her, hyung.” 

As soon as you turned around Han’s heart melted as he said, “Wh-What are you doing with Gyu, Anya??” You could tell Han was three seconds away from squealing and waking up the house officially. 

You answered in a tiny voice, realizing that you probably look very cute, hugging Gyu to your chest and still in pajamas. “Gyu smells like him… Waiting for my Binnie to come home.” You buried your face into Gyu as you looked up at Hannie. 

“How are you this CUTE?!” Han squealed.

Minho immediately said, “YAH keep it DOWN!” 

That made you giggle uncontrollably as you sniffed Gyu. Han ran out of the kitchen and came back with his phone, “Can I take a picture? You are too cute right now.”

You nodded, and just like that the picture was taken as you rubbed your eyes with one hand, making Hannie coo at the picture. He went into the group chat (Obviously without Chris in it.) 

[crystalreydraws]

Hello hi I just found out you're the artist of my favorite pic of Jamil from all time 🥹 I absolutely LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVEEEEEEEEEEEEE SO MUUUUCH his bday art from 2020!! It's my favorite one from every art and he looks so pretty and hot and cool and like he's in a music clip and about to drop a fire verse!! I LOVE your painting style so much, as a baby artist, would you one day show us how you color? I'm sure you put so much blood, sweat and tears into your hard work and it would great to get a little bit of that wisdom. Please keep drawing, keep doing what you love because it makes the world a better place to live!

Sketched my sleepy and tired oc to do a very quick demonstration but it covers how I color when i render things:

Start with rough greyscale first, it's a good start to roughly decide light direction and value of your overall work. Especially if you have no idea on your shading.

Next, apply base color to greyscale. I'll use gradient map if I want to keep the details of my greyscale. But if not, I'll just start with a flat base color, and try whatever I can to apply color.

Rendering phase. Add layers and just paint on top to refine it. Merge all layers if it's too messy. Then add layers again. My rendering really depends on how much time taken because it's just a loop of paint over and refining. Thats why i do more simple fanart cuz I sometimes get bored of rendering Also at this stage when doing lineless style, I merge lineart with layers and cover up the lines.

Final touch. Merge all layers and use [filter gallery > paint daubs (brush size 1, sharpness 2)]. It will sharpen your work and look detailed. Or add some very fine noise texture, it will look detailed too.

Another very rough demonstration on how i apply color mood. This will be after step 2. And same will be more refining and even paint over to ensure the colors look ok.

Other tips:

Add warm and cool colors especially on skin.

Use pinterest. Always find more than one reference for a subject if you want to draw better than yesterday. Pure ref is a nice tool to gather reference on your pc. When i draw a single hand I had a lot of ref. (pose, color temperature, lighting, photos, artwork, all diff ref)

Color theory is so important I still struggle a lot. I highly recommend beginners start from practicing Marco Bucci's ball practice. After that slowly change to adding character into movie scene and photographs, the purpose is to adapt different color moods and learn the lighting from the image. Learn more from famous movie and cinematic. They did their best to nail the colors.

Anyway,

this is a long answer about how I color. My previous job influenced me so much on coloring so there's a lot of thinking and struggle on my colors.

So, I suggest you be more experimental and try new ways, at the end what remains is what fits you.

[papurgaatika]

In The Darkness There’s So Much I Wanna Do

Kinktober Prompt 2: Somnophilia

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!reader

minors DNI with my work please!!

A/N: Howdy howdy my babies! This is dedicated to my beautiful beautiful stunning @phoeberidgers whose birthday it is (and if you can find the fun birthday reference in here I'll give you a sticker) seeing as she is Frankie lover number one, this is literally just for her. Thank you to the absolute loml @carlynkurin for beta’ing this (and all my other fics) for me. I hope the rest of you hornballs enjoy this. peace and love on the planet earth from me xoxo

Tags: somno, praise, oral (f! receiving), pussy eating king frankie morales everyone, established relationships, pre discussed kinks, loverboy frankie

word count: 2.1k

Summary: The days are long, and the nights are longer for Frankie. His hours at work have been killing him, and keeping him from you more than he wants to admit, but seeing you so peaceful at night is keeping him going

Frankie was an attentive lover, if there was ever an example of one. Bringing you flowers and chocolate when he knew your week was long, ordering you take out when he wasn't over to cook with you, sending you videos of celebrities you pine over. The perfect man wrapped up with a bow for you. Unfortunately, your perfect man came with long hours, bags under his beautiful baby brown eyes, and a thousand apologies that you’d constantly tell him not to make. 

You knew his work was important, your hard working boy, but it didn't mean it didn't make you a little upset. It wasn't uncommon for you to go to sleep before he even makes it home, curling into his pillow relishing in the smell of him, firewood and the slightly drizzly trail where you both go on frequent Sunday picnics. He hated leaving you at home alone, it made him feel like he was suffocating without you. He swears that if he could quit his job right now and spend every second of the day touching you, he would do it in a heartbeat. He doesn’t even need more than a touch, the simple feeling of his hand on yours, or your sides pressed together while you huddle for warmth is enough to keep him going forever. 

Frankie groans when he enters the house, his bones creaking as he stretches his limbs out on the couch and takes off his boots. He silently chides himself when he sees the lack of light in your bedroom and cringes when he sees the time 10:13. He swore that he would try to be earlier today, that he missed having dinner with you, missed being able to see you for more than an hour while you both get ready for the day in the morning. You had reassured that you understood and that it didn't bother you, but he knew it wasn't your favorite thing in the world. He wasn't blind, he could see the look on your face when he’d remind you he was working late again, saw your side table peeking open, your vibrator freshly washed because he hadn’t been able to touch you in days. 

It was killing him with how pent-up he was. He would catch himself getting hard at work at the most innocuous things. You had sent him a photo of you holding up a piece he needed to see and the sight of your hands had all the blood rushing to his cock, memories of your fingers spreading yourself open for him flooding his mind. "You had sent him a voice note in which your dog jumped on you, a fit of giggles bubbling out of you, and all he was thinking about was every single time he had drawn a gasp, moan, and shaky little sigh from between your lips. All in all, Frankie was needy. Needier than he had been in a long time. He doesn't even remember being this pent up while he was deployed, it had been easy then, to simply jerk himself off in a few minutes to some old magazines he had managed to keep. But now.. Now there was you. And no magazine was going to compare to you. Your hips, your eyes, your tummy, everything about you made him feel like he was going to explode. 

He slips into the bedroom and his gaze falls to the light of the moon filtering over your sleeping body. Fuck if you weren't perfect. He slips over to where you lay in bed and feels his heart (and dick) swell a little bit. He stares at you for a moment, watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest with every breath you take, just reveling in how effortless it was for you to look this good. He knows he should shower, knows that he should change and eat the leftovers you left in the microwave for him like you always do, but he can’t help himself. He slips off his jeans not even bothering with his shirt, and slips onto the bed, his  forearms holding him up. He takes a moment to admire you, committing every curve and dip of your face to memory before he peppers faint kisses over you. He stills every so often, making sure you weren’t being disturbed, but he isn't a patient man often. 

You smell so fucking good, he wants to bottle it up and keep it with him for a hard day, You’re the only thing that can get him off anymore. He nips gently at your neck, grinning when he sees a soft red mark blooming on your skin. He slips the blanket off of your form, not that it was covering you completely anyway, and feels his eyes roll back into his head at the sight of you wearing one of his shirts. The fabric of the shirt had bunched up over your hip, the curve of your ass practically begging him to do something, to do anything. He traces an experimental line over the soft skin of your leg, watching as the goosebumps trail after his finger. His eyes moved up to make sure he wasn't disturbing you, and when he saw your face still at peace he continued. 

He moves back to your ankle, his head dipping down to press a kiss to it. If he could, he would kiss every single inch of you. Every part that he loves more than life itself. His hand wraps around your calf as his lips trace up the skin, the hair of his beard scratching you softly. As he makes his way to your thighs, he can't help but leave a few bites on them as he spreads your legs slowly. He doesn't move for a moment, his eyes locked on the plush of your pussy through your panties. he just stays there for a while, the soft fabric pulled against you looked sinful to him in the moment. 

The way the moon glows on your skin is like a guiding light for him, basking you in a silvery glow. Frankie swears his heart stops when you shift, your body spreading for him. Even subconsciously, you know that it was his touch, that you wanted him. He brings his nose to the waistband of your panties, nudging the elastic slightly before ducking his head down to smell you. The fact that you made him feel like a teenage boy again would be almost embarrassing if he wasn’t truly obsessed with you. With the way that just the smell of you made him dizzy, made his hips grind into the mattress subconsciously. His eyes press close when he presses an open mouthed kiss to your clothed cunt, the taste of your arousal making him groan into your skin. 

You had cum tonight, he knew the taste of you like the back of his hand, and he twinged in annoyance with himself that he wasn't home to watch you fall apart. The open side table, your toy sitting neatly inside of it, the taste of you, it all goads him on to go further;to prove that he was better than them. He narrows his eyes and focuses back on you. He would never blame you for taking care of yourself, he simply wishes that it could have been him. His plush lips press against you again, his tongue darting out to lick a stripe over the growing damp spot on your panties and grins to himself when he feels your legs twitch slightly at the contact. Frankie wants to stay here until he dies. bathed in moonlight, his head between your soft thighs, and your pussy practically dripping from his barely there touches. 

He can’t help himself, he knows that he should probably wake you up and tell you that he’s home, apologize for how long he was gone, but he was trapped where he was. He pulls the thin fabric of your panties to the side, a soft whimper leaving his lips when he sees how wet you were for him. “Pretty fucking thing….” He presses his mouth onto you soft and gentle, knowing you were probably still sensitive, and traces his tongue over the sides slowly.  Your taste was intoxicating, addicting. You were the pomegranate seeds, sweet and ripe on his tongue, that had him returning over and over again. 

He can feel your body stirring against him, your breathing becoming a little more shallow as he continues his ministrations against you. His head ducks down again and he holds your thighs in his big hands as his tongue flicks against you, lewd noises coming from his mouth as he moans into you. The curve of his nose pressing against your clit as he practically worships you, his jaw working like a man starved. Despite your slumbering state you could feel the haze of pleasure bubbling in your stomach, your body rocking slightly as he drew your orgasm closer and closer. He could tell you were close, he could always tell with you, he craved it. His hands move away from your thighs and spread your pussy open, his tongue lapping at you like he was begging you to fall apart. 

You wake up feeling incredibly good, your body was tingly and your ears were ringing, eyes barely fluttering open. You could hear him still working at your drooling pussy, your hand moving sluggishly to push his head away “Frankie?” you croak out, voice hoarse with sleep. 

“jus’ looking at you baby” he hums, blowing a soft breath of cold air against you, making your hips jolt up “so fuckin’ pretty” he murmurs pressing another kiss to your aching cunt “couldnt help myself.” 

In hindsight you should have known better than to try and move his head, it was a futile attempt that had no real chances of working. One of his hands moves to grab yours, bringing it down to his lips and giving your fingers a quick peck, before lacing them with his and holding it against the side of your hip. The sight of his eyes looking up at you through his lashes while he draws circles around your swollen clit with practiced precision should be preserved in a gallery. The way his pupils dilate with every taste, how he barely takes time to breathe, his hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead, he was a damn work of art. Your legs shake as his lips wrap around your clit, sending you tumbling over the edge of your orgasm, feeling his broad shoulders keep your legs from clamping around him. Frankie’s lips don't stop until he’s taken every single bit of your pleasure from you, every single moan, whine, and quiver of your body spurring him on. 

“Mine.” He practically purrs against your skin, collecting the last of your arousal on his tongue before pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh “All mine.”

You aren’t sure if your brain has caught up with the pleasure you were just subjected to, not that there was a single complaint from you. “Hi,” your voice is still slightly raspy, both with sleep and pleasure, when you manage to form a coherent sentence “when’d you get home?” You mumble, hand raking through his soft curls.

“Mmm, ‘bout 45 minutes ago” he hums, glancing at the clock on the side table which now reads 11:09 while his cheek rests on your stomach, planting the occasional kiss on the soft skin. “missed you today baby.” You feel your heart melting at his words. No matter how often he says it, which is very often, you always feel special just knowing that you were on his mind 

“I missed you more” you grin at him, knowing how much he hates when you try to one-up him. You hear a grumble come out of his mouth and feel him nip at your hip bone, making you squeak slightly 

“Never, baby.” he whispers, tongue soothing over the bite he just left on you. “Not a damn chance in the world of that.”

 You were honestly too tired to argue with him at this point, simply letting out a non committal hum and closing your eyes. They peek open after a moment when he lets out a quiet moan against your skin “baby..?” you ask softly, eyelids heavy.  

He grunts, his hips rutting against the soft sheets, his cock aching after getting to taste you “go back to sleep baby..” he groans “gonna stay right here,” he kisses the crease of your thigh “just wanna taste you again.” You barely have time to register his words before his lips find your cunt again, his moans vibrating against your sensitive skin as you let your eyes close again. It was about to be a long night.

[randomyuu]

Yuuji bowl :D

Let’s have a go with All!Yuuji because why not :D

One day I found this fic titled everything i couldn’t save by lying_sun and it got me hooked. It’s not everyday I can find a good Yuuji bowl fic (mostly because I focused a bit too much on Goyuu but I digress)

Btw, is it Yuuji harem? Yuuji bowl??? What do you call a harem with Yuuji btw? I’m too lazy to do research on this topic—

Anyway! The time has come to shower Yuuji with more love. I really adore this fic. The deadly and powerful nature of Yuuji as Sukuna’s vessel, yet his ability and heart are that of a healer. It’s contrastingly beautiful. And it’s SFW! Fluff! Fluff! ✨Fluff! ✨ And of course, a bit of angst because why not :)

If you like a Healer!Yuuji as SaShiSu trio’s teacher, please give this fic a read!

This time, I have shorter thoughts so no Read More is needed :DD

What is the best way to include all Yuuji pairings in a fanart?

Stack them up of course! Squish them all into a small space!

Everytime I see Hidden Inventory Arc characters, it always feels like going back to the past. So the concept of immortalising this precious Yuuji bowl into a Polaroid photo feels fitting. And without me even realising it, the outcome feels… cheerful? A bit romcom-ish? Despite the amount of black clothes and hair, the vibe is really light. It feels weird as I usually draw in a rather sombre tone, but I found I like this kind of tone as well!

And also because Yuuji deserves all the love :”)

Ah, this fic is truly giving me “healer yuuji for the soul”. Beautiful.

As I drew this, the fic is almost finished, with the future last chapter being a Sukuna chapter! Since I was not sure what their dynamic would look like, I decided he would be a chibi (I was in the mood for a chibi and he’s my sacrificial lamb). It kind of indicates that he’s different. As in not having his own body and cannot hug Yuuji physically haha

Unless? 👀

Drawing them all was really fun! It was a bit tricky since I couldn’t find references for the pose so I just winging it with my available anatomy knowledge. Bless the college for having black uniforms. Helps a lot lol

Anyway, that’s it from me. I hope you enjoy the drawing, and also the fic if you ever decided to give it a read! I wish you all a pleasant weekend! °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

[ilwonuu]

helloo! hope you're doing good <3 I have a hard smut thought..... HYUNJIN ATTENDING THAT VERSACE EVENT? THE FIT? THE PHOTOS? DADDY? SORRY? DADDY? well to get this off my mind i'd like to request a fic with hyunnie using reader as his muse or reference for a painting. He had known the reader since long and had a fat crush on her, the feelings were reciprocated but both never knew. One fine day hyunjin asks the reader to paint her with veryy prettyy lingerie initially she agrees on it. But eventually he gets pretty horny and asks the reader to get naked and then he continues painting. He can't take it anymore and he confesses his love for the reader the reader does too. They kiss and then..... can't wait to see your fic on thiss!!! Take care lots of love

OMG. this is a GREAT IDEA THANK YOU!!! i hope u enjoy<3 thank u for ur request !!!

how i see you

↬ hwang hyunjin

﹥*:ꔫ:*+ﾟ﹥*:ꔫ:*+ﾟ﹥*:ꔫ:*+ﾟ﹥*:ꔫ:*+ﾟ﹥*:ꔫ:*+ﾟ﹥*:ꔫ:*+ﾟ

𓆹 pairing- dom!hyunjin x sub!reader, friends to lovers

𓆹 summary- hyunjin makes his move on you. receiving more than intended.

𓆹 warnings-they have crushes on eachother, painting in lingerie/while naked, pet names, dirty talk, unprotected sex(what did you expect) penetrative sex, fluffy at first, lmk what else

𓆹 a/n- i got WAYYYY too carried away like seriously. im falling into a hyunjin hole. he can fall into my hole (please) im so sorry LMFAO lmk what u thottttt

໒꒱🌱⠈⠂⠄ ‹𝟹 🚞〃 ˝ ໒꒱🌱⠈⠂⠄ ‹𝟹 🚞〃 ˝ ໒꒱🌱⠈⠂⠄ ‹𝟹 🚞〃 ˝

hwang hyunjin. the pretty boy you met in your painting class sophomore year of college. he was sweet to you. (he thought you were the prettiest person in the world) he wanted to look at you at all times.

he loved the way you did your hair and dressed. he wanted you so bad. finally deciding to act somewhat on his crush, he asked you to model for him.

he wanted to draw you so bad. not counting his sketches he would get of you when you had your painting class. he loved your features. you agreed to model for the boy. getting your final touches on your appearance. making your way to hyunjin’s finally. you shaking away your nervous feeling. you arriving sending him a short text. he eagerly opens the door- well you don’t know that.

he was more than excited for you to be in his artistic space. and he thinks you look absolutely gorgeous. “welcome in. make yourself at home! let me know if you need anything.” he smiles at you helping you get comfortable.

“thank you.” he nods at you.

“of course. okay- how do you want to do this? you’re still comfortable modeling in your lingerie?” he asks you. his eyes shifting to your lips and down your body and to your- okay.

“yeah i’m comfortable with it if you are jinnie-“ he chuckles at the nickname. his heart loving the sound of his name with your voice. gosh he just wants to kiss you.

“okay- well i already set up my living room area. you can just sit or lay on the couch however you like!” he suggests with a smile.

“yes. that’s perfect.” you smile back. taking off your clothes that was covering your beautiful white lingerie. hyunjin thinks he hasn’t seen a prettier sight. you soft skin against the light fabric. it hugging against your body perfectly.

“is this okay?” you ask referring to your lingerie. the boy is caught in his thoughts. he can’t take his eyes off your beautiful body.

“i-yea it looks great on you.” hyunjin smiles at you. hoping you don’t see his dick hardening in his pants. he just wants to kiss your lips. “i’m ready when you are.” he tries to bring the attention back to you.

“yea let’s do it.” you try to shake your nervousness laying on his couch. “okay um get in a position you can stay in for a while. don’t want you to get uncomfortable half way through.” he laughs at his words.

especially when he sees that they made you smile. “okay i think this is good.” you finally say picking your spot. laying back to shift your gaze to hyunjin. “then we can start right away.”

he sits in his chair thats in front of his easel. he starts sketching the outline of your body. his gaze slightly intimidating at first. his gaze softening soon enough. you relax a little bit.

he gets entranced with your angelic figure. beginning to add the paint to his light sketch. “yo-you look so beautiful by the way. i had to tell you.

i really like that lingerie on you.” he eyes you again. allowing his fingers to stop. “thank you- you look good too. you always do.”

you confess not really knowing why you did. but hyunjin loves every second of it. “thank you. so do you.” he smiles at you again. his dick getting harder the more he paints the outline of your body.

“y/n- i know this sounds a little- crazy but if you would feel comfortable with me painting you naked? i think it would look really beautiful as a painting.” him hiding his hand against his dick softly.

“yea- i mean i’ve never done this before but i want to try.” you look at him at you start to take your clothes off painfully slow hyunjin thinks. he just wants to take you just like that.

“yeah you look- shit you look great let me keep going.” he practically begs you as he picks up his paintbrush painting in the features he sketched. not forgetting to not add the curve and dips of your body against the couch. he thinks you look perfect like this.

how could he not get hard? he tries to continue painting you for ten minutes. ten minutes too fucking long it seems. hyunjin is rather impatient. “y/n? can i tell you something?”

he ask nervously as you see him put his paintbrush down. slowly getting up to move closer to you. “yea of course jinnie.” he moves closer to you. joining you on the couch. he sighs.

“i’m so in love with you. every second of the day- i want to be with you! i want you always.” he admits as he he relaxes into your touch. you gently pulling him into a hug. “hyunjin- how have you not noticed that i want the same as you.” you smile and his excited expression. “i don’t know- i was scared i’m so happy you feel the same. can i kiss you?”

he asks leaning in before stopping himself. “yea- wait what about the painting?” he shakes his head. “all i want is you right now.” he pulls you into a sloppy kiss. his lips are softer than you could’ve ever described if you tried. never wanting to leave his lips.

wanting more and more as he kissed you longer. his hands roaming your body as he kisses you deeply. he is kissing you with so much want in him. he pulls away suddenly. “can i make you feel good? only if you want to of course.”

he asks you. “yes p-please.” you not caring much about your stuttering. hyunjin his moving to laying you back so he can hover over you.

you immediately tugging his shorts down seeing he doesn’t have boxers on. “no boxers? were you thinking about this? be honest-“ you taunt and you receive a shameful nod.

“can i finger you princess? want to make you feel as perfect as you are to me.” his hand is dancing up your leg teasingly. you want nothing more to have him touch you. “please j-jinne.”

his dick hardens even more at the whininess of your voice. “don’t worry. my pretty princess gonna feel so good.” his fingers don’t hesitate to snake around your slit. “i knew you would be this perfect for me.”

he removes his fingers from you to throw his shirt off. you whine at the loss of contact and the new sight in front of you. “hyunjin-please!” he cuts you off kissing your lips spreading your legs what he thinks is subtly. sliding his thick long finger into your wet cunt. groaning at how wet you are. “come here-“ he is pulling you into another sloppy kiss. “more hyunjin please!”

he doesn’t say anything just adding another finger inside you. “so good for me. my good girl. you look beautiful like this.” he watches your face and how it shifts in pleasure. “gonna cum princess? tell me like a good girl.” your legs are shaking rapidly.

his right hand spreading your legs wider as he fucks his fingers faster. you see his dick rubbing against the couch. pulling moans from him. “cumming ah please-“ as soon as those words leave your lips his fingers are tugged away from you. “n-no! was so close.”

hyunjin coos pulling you towards him by your hips. “i know baby. want you to cum on my dick. don’t you want that?”

he asks the the last part as he rubs h is dick against your folds. not breaking eye contact with you once. “p-please!” he kisses your jaw.

“you can take it princess?” he is peppering your face with kisses. causing you to blush. “yes i can take it jinnie!” he groans opening your legs pushing in softly. “you feel so fu-fucking good.” he laughs in disbelief watching where you two connect.

“tell me when to shit- move.” you clench around him. loving the feeling of being full. “fuck me jinnie.” you moan out wrapping your arms around his neck. he speeds his hips. fucking you deep, his arms propping himself to hover over you.

his gaze deep against yours. “i’ve thought a-about you- about this so often.” he breathes into your neck. “oh it’s so much- than i imagined.” he whines as his hips get rougher and more desperate.

“perfect princess. need you so bad. gonna let me make you mine?” you nod at his words. he moans into your skin again as you feel his hips buck. “gonna give you all my cum princess. tell me you’ll take it.” his question is hard to focus on. upon the boy looking so dead in your eyes while his hips are drilling into you.

“want it- all of it hyunjin p-please.” he smiles devilishly. “perfect girl. my pretty princess. taking all of my cum. if you could see how i see you. you are so fucking beautiful.” his final praise sending butterflies through you. as hyunjin also sends his cum through you.

he loves the way you clench at the feeling. cumming hard on his dick. “jinnie-“ you cry out for him. his hips slowing but not stopping as he starts to fuck his cum into you. “s-sorry you just feel so good.” he stops his hips pulling out. he pulls you into a kiss.

“can i still paint you? i didn’t lie about how beautiful you look. still would be a beautiful painting.” you comply<3

[carolkinopf]

been thinking about posting some unfinished/unpolished stuff that i'm pretty sure i won't go back to work on, they are just sitting on my folders and it makes me a little sad

this is gonna be a long post (because I feel like I can't post it without explaining what they were meant to be), I decided to just make a single one with all of them so yea !

This is my Novo Amor propaganda that I never finished. I think this song is very felds-coded, and the animatic was really just to illustrate the lyrics since I think they fit very well.

So it shows feldspar reflecting about their poor choices and mistakes, and wanting to just. give up. But then hatchling shows up, somehow, to rescue them. And with coming back to timber hearth, reuniting with their friends and family, with time they eventually start coming to terms with everything that's happened and readjusting to life in timber hearth.

That entire segment that repeats "but I'll breath, I'm bored of how, bored of now" would be of scenes of that, starting with them reuniting with slate, gossan, gneiss, then being taken care of/patched up from living in poor conditions in dark bramble to then finally enjoying life with others (I ended up only adding rockettrio but I wanted to have them fishing with spinel, going for a hike/walk in the woods with tektite and maybe arkose, playing with hatchlings, joining the orchestra with everyone.... those things)

Slate is also there, because I thought it would be fun to have the transition with the museum photo to feldspar making their way to giant's deep and then dark bramble. And I like some slate angst (shocking)

This is like the most finished one from the post, so it's going first on the list.

(If you like the song i cannot recommend Novo Amor enough. They have many songs with OW vibes imho. And some that are just plain great. If you're curious which ones I associate with the silly aliens feel free to ask)

---

...this is a rather silly one. Not much to talk about it, I had the idea on a random morning of slate fixing one of their model ships (that feldspar accidentaly broke) in a scene analogous to a surgery shdjd

They are young teenagers here (13-14) so that's why slate is using the little cap (which is an accessory I borrowed from process_analog's young slate drawings thank you)

---

This was an experimentation of sorts. The idea was to reference those flashing lights in parties that makes it looks like you are living in a low fps world. Very trippy. But instead of black between "frames", it alternates between slate and feldspar dancing and the moments they had together, from the begging as kids, to teenagers, to young adults working on the OWV and to the final breakdown aka, a fight that led feldspar leaving in a rush and anger to never to be seen again, leaving a helpless slate behind (this was inspired by the first chapter of awanderingmuse's fic Find Your Buddy which I highly recommend!)

Since the song kinda talks about dancing instead of talking your feelings out, I feel like it fits with the fight being drowned out by them dancing in a different moment.

Fun fact: I got hit with The Visions for this animatic the same day I got hit with The Visions for the neujauciu meiles animatic. Which was not fun for my brain, I spent one hour staring at krita not knowing which one to start

cobalt is the one who showed me this song so kudos to him

i like this frame :) huggies

This is a version of only the scenes, I think it's a bit easier to see them progressing. During the fight scene, both slate and feldspar get flashbacks to good times, in poses that mirror their current ones. I thought it'd be a fun addition :)

---

......yet another sad slate (and feldspar) animatic. I was driving home listening to the song and got hit with The Visions once more. I like the colors changing on this one, the very first frame of them as kids is my absolute favorite. Even if it's just a rough sketch.

<3

---

Honorable mention to this one that I sketched an incredible amount of 3 frames

(I'm only putting this here as a cue for you to listen to Years On by Novo Amor. It's good I promise. I wanted to make an animatic for it, with the first half of the songs showing slate/the founders dealing with feldspar's dissapearance, and the second half with riebeck/hatchling - i never decided which one it'd be. But I had just done the Guestbook animatic, and this would be the exact same mood. And I wanted to do something different lol)

---

So, that is it, thank you if you checked all of it! And extra thanks if you did read all my ramblings

Here's a doodle for you:

I always have a lot of thoughts about these, but I don't talk about it because I find it's kinda irrelevant/redundant (plus kinda takes away attention from the actual video on the post). So I hope you enjoyed a little dive into some of them along with the videos !

so yeah, bybye! have a good day

[genericpuff]

Do you have any tips for beginner artists? Also I love your art style

Reference lots! There's no 'learning how to draw', only learning how to study and reference things you want to draw. Even experienced artists are constantly pulling up references and tools to assist them in their process, it's not all drawing from imagination, there's research involved!

And keep in mind that no matter the style of the work you're studying and learning from, the core foundations of drawing - composition, structure, perspective, anatomy, lighting, and color - will usually always be present in some way. Learn to identify those foundations, even if you're not actively trying to learn them directly, because that identification process is part of referencing.

Keep your old art! Always! You don't have to save every absent-minded doodle or scribble, but any time you create a piece of art that feels significant to you, hold onto it! If you have sketchbooks full of old drawings that are taking up space in your home and you can't justify keeping, scan what's inside / take photos and store them digitally! Don't let hindsight after you've improved tarnish the joy you had making it! It just gives you something wonderful to look back on so you can see how much you've grown (even when you feel like you haven't; if you cringe looking at your older stuff, that means growth HAS happened! And that's good!)

As for specific learning tools, there's no single "one size fits all" approach to improving your craft. It's more like a patchwork quilt that you have to weave yourself from all the things you reference and get inspired by over years of trial and error. For myself, that quilt looks something like this:

That said, this is my quilt, for you, it'll look very different! Maybe online tutorials are a much bigger patch, or maybe some of the patches seen here are completely absent from others (and alternatively, maybe there are patches that I DON'T have that another person might!) The point of it though is to get across that getting better at art and "learning how to draw" isn't achievable through one single means.

I've said this in previous posts, but this is why I try to stay away from the blanket advice "just practice", because it doesn't truly convey how to practice properly - if you're exclusively practicing the same stuff every day, then there's a lot of other elements you don't even realize you could be missing out on that could benefit you. It would be like trying to become a world-class chef just by cooking omelettes all day - you'd be really good at cooking omelettes, but if you want to learn how to cook a perfectly-seasoned medium rare filet mignon, knowing how to cook omelettes isn't going to contribute to that at all.

I know all of that is both specific and vague, but I hope it can help you find your direction in your learning! Ask yourself what art you like, what you really want to learn, and how the art you like can help you learn it. Don't just look at an art piece and go "cool", really look at it and learn to identify the foundations within it, find the "why" in your praise. It can and will benefit you in your own art journey along the way because the better you get at analyzing the world around you, the better you get at analyzing your own work and where it can improve, and most importantly, how you can improve it ヽ(・∀・)ﾉ

[fazedlight]

Listening (Rift resolution, with reference to Kara’s article from Batwoman 1x10)

“I appreciate the favor,” Kate said, as Kara turned off her voice recorder. “It’s nice we’re in the same universe now.”

“Definitely,” Kara said, smiling back. She jotted down some final thoughts, before closing her notebook. “It’s a favor to me, too. Andrea will love this story.”

It had been a messy incident. When a local officer, Slam Bradley, had pushed Kate - Batwoman - out of harm’s way, someone had been snapping photos. Once the pictures went viral, the press had a field day, speculating on the nature of Batwoman’s relationship with Slam Bradley… which he had only played up.

It prompted Kate to make the decision for Batwoman to come out as a lesbian - not just to clear the air, but to give hope to the queer kids of Gotham.  “Are you nervous?” Kara asked. “I’d be nervous.”

“Relieved,” Kate said, and Kara thought it was all too fitting of the Paragon of Courage. Kate nodded in Kara’s direction. “Sounds like you’ve thought about doing it. What makes you nervous?”

Kara sighed, looking at her hands.

“Oh,” Kate said. “Your friends don’t know?”

Kara’s brow crinkled. “I- I wanted to come out to them. Years ago.”

“There was someone?” Kate asked.

“It got complicated,” Kara said. “I don’t know if she’s even queer anyway. And then we had a falling out, so…”

“So if you came out, everyone would know what she meant to you.”

Kara nodded. “It took the joy out of it. So I didn’t.”

-----------

Kara sighed as she reached her desk, sloughing off her bag and dropping it in her chair. She would rather be transcribing Kate’s interview and writing her article at home where she could use superspeed - but since Andrea wanted the staff in the office, it seemed Kara was stuck taking the slow route.

Kara tilted her head, tracking a familiar heartbeat down the hall. What’s she doing here?, Kara thought curiously, trying to avoid looking as Lena followed Andrea into a small meeting room. I shouldn’t eavesdrop, I shouldn’t eavesdrop, I shouldn’t eavesdrop…

“Well, I’m sorry if I’ve offended you,” Lena derided, as Kara tuned in, “But I didn’t come here for this conversation.”

“I’m not offended,” Andrea said, and Kara could hear the grin in her voice. “I’m just amused. Of all the names to call out-”

“Andrea-” 

“- you really fantasize about Kara Danvers fucking you?”

Kara’s head snapped up in time to see Lena’s frame stiffen through the glass walls. Andrea and Lena?, Kara thought, her eyes wide, They were-

“I’m not talking about this here,” Lena said. “Either get to the contract amendment, or I’ll leave.”

“Please, Lena, it’s not like she can hear us.”

Lena shouted my name? Kara thought in a panic, rising quickly to her feet, intent on somehow shutting down the conversation - because if she didn’t, she was going to lose her sanity. She shouted my name, while they were- while they-

Her steps were perhaps slightly too fast, and she accidentally caught Lena’s eye for a moment before she burst in, the brunette looking like she clearly wanted to murder someone. But Andrea was unperturbed by Kara’s arrival. “Sorry to interrupt!” Kara said, knocking on the door as she swung it open.

“Yes, Ms. Danvers?”

“I-” Kara’s mind drew a blank, before the right excuse fell into her head. “I have an exclusive with Batwoman!”

Andrea hummed in interest, and Kara could feel the daggers Lena was glaring into her.

-----------

Lena glanced down at her drink. 

The winter night was cool enough that she should get something warm - even in National City. But the scotch and rage were keeping her warm enough for now, as she stood on her balcony, looking out over the city’s lights. 

She knew she could be spending another night with Andrea if she wanted. Let off some steam. She knew rationally, Kara finding out wasn’t really Andrea’s fault. But Lena was not in a forgiving mood. She was better off alone and rageful.

A familiar double-tap sounded behind her on her balcony, and Lena’s jaw tightened. “Why are you here?” she demanded, without turning.

“I… I found out something that you didn’t want me to know,” Kara said, and Lena could almost hear the blush in her voice.

“If you think that meant anything-”

“I know it doesn’t,” Kara said. “I’m- I’m just here to tell you something I don’t want you to know.”

Lena’s brow furrowed in confusion, as she turned to look at the bashful blonde. Kara looked back curiously, only partially successful at her attempt to hide her regret. “You think that’s fair?” Lena asked. “You get to choose a secret, because you spied on me?”

“No,” Kara said. “But it’s the best I can do.”

Lena left her drink on the balcony, crossing her arms and glaring at the super, her pose haughty and expectant.

Kara swallowed hard. “I’m in love with you.”

Lena’s eyes widened. What the fuck is she talking about?

“For what it’s worth,” Kara said, looking over the balcony instead of at Lena’s face. “I hear it sometimes, around the city. Supergirl’s easy to fantasize about. I know it’s just lust. ”

Kara paused. “I know it doesn’t mean anything to you. But you mean everything to me. If anyone should feel ashamed, it’s me.”

Before Lena could come up with something she could say, Kara was gone.

-----------

Lena tried to ignore it. Tried to pretend that night never happened. Kara doesn’t love me, she told herself. It’s just another lie.

Her anger boiled over one evening, when Kara landed again at Lena’s balcony, just to call her a villain. Lena didn’t sleep that night, tossing and turning and mumbling in disbelief that Kara would have the audacity.

So the next morning, she showed up at Kara’s door. 

Unslept and frazzled, and perhaps not entirely thinking straight when Kara opened the door, Lena marched in and turned, yelling without preamble. “It’s a fucking lie, Kara, you don’t just get to say that!” Lena shouted.

“What do you mean?”

“If you loved me…” Lena panted, as Kara’s eyes widened. “If you loved me, you couldn’t have hurt me like that!”

“I said I loved you,” Kara said, her voice tight with stress. “I never said I was good at loving you.”

Lena hesitated.

“I know I hurt you,” Kara said. “And I’ll never forgive myself for it. Just like I don’t think you’ll forgive yourself if you keep going with what you’re doing.”

“And you told me, to what? Win me over?”

“I already said, I told you because I didn’t want you to feel embarrassed about shouting for Supergirl-”

“I didn’t shout for Supergirl,” Lena growled.

Kara’s eyes widened at the implication, and Lena felt ice run through her veins as she realized what she had done. Without another word, Lena marched back towards the door, and left.

-----------

Is she right?, Lena thought. Will I regret this?

Has working with Lex ever gone well?

Kara was a liar. A liar. The years of deceit, the crocodile tears at the Pulitzer. This could just be another lie in a long list of lies and manipulations. A means of control. But why didn’t it feel that way?

“I said I loved you. I never said I was good at loving you.”

Lena leaned over her kitchen counter, putting her face in her hands. Could it really be that simple?

-----------

Kara tried to control the pounding of her heart as she made her way through the park.

It was a familiar sight, harking back to the day just a few years ago when Lena had made her announcement - that LuthorCorp would be LCorp. That was no longer true on Earth Prime, of course, but the place made Kara smile. It was one of the first places they had met.

She supposed Lena chose it as neutral ground. LuthorCorp, Catco, the DEO, either of their homes - those places all had much more baggage. But it left Kara asking, why? Why did Lena want to meet at all?

She found Lena by heartbeat before she saw her. Lena was sitting on a bench, sipping from a coffee cup, staring ahead at the park. She turned to Kara, though not quite meeting her eyes, nodding as Kara took a seat next to her.

Moments passed in silence.

“I’m not working with Lex anymore,” Lena said. “I messed up.”

“I messed up too,” Kara said. “I don’t want to lie to you anymore.”

Lena nodded, staring at her hands, swallowing harshly. “I want to try again.”

Kara’s eyes widened, before a small smile crossed her face. “I’d like that.”

“Do you think we can?” Lena asked. “Do you think we can fix this?”

“I have hope.”

-----------

One morning, a couple of months later, an article by Lois Lane caught Kate Kane’s eye. The news page featured a smiling Supergirl, standing tall and proud, with an audacious headline. “America’s Power Bisexual? Supergirl Comes Out.”

She got the girl, Kate thought, her lips quirking into a smile. She reached for her phone, sending off a quick text. “Congratulations, Danvers.”

[justchillandshipit]

I have so much I want to post about, but I don't want to overload my own dashboard. I'm going to try and fit all of this into one post. I'm tagging this post as potential spoilers, but really these are part of fan theories. I'm throwing spoilers in there because if by some crazy thing, any of it happens to be right, I don't want to ruin it for others. However, a theory is just a theory, so let's suspend disbelief and dig into this one.

Most of you probably have heard or read some of these fan theories. One is that episode one or two is some sort of coma-induced alternate reality. There is a photo floating around somewhere that has the fire engine labeled 119 instead of 118. There is the mustache. etc. Someone pointed out, in the photo above, that the man on the magazine cover is Ryan Guzman but manipulated in some way. I would like to take it a step further. I looked at all the headlines and noticed that the one that likely matches with the manipulated photo says, "From a bedroom to an Empire." Is this a reference to a former porn star now running some sort of empire? (Bahahaha. if the manipulated photo is Ryan G. what a great play on the pornstache he is sporting.) I love it.

Anyway, if Eddie was stung by a bee and had a coma-induced alternate-reality dream, I love that he has reimagined himself in this way. It's a great nod. Another fan theory is that Eddie dreams he chose Chicago over LA. (but since it is not real, Buck, Chim, Hen, and the gang would all still be there, but they all live in Chicago instead.) I like the Chicago idea because it would allow them to do that crossover with Abbot Elementary (which is one of the shows that a cast member said they would love to do a crossover with.) It is a comedy show so it would lend itself to a comedic alternate reality episode.

The possibilities and directions they could take in this type of episode are broad, but I'm hoping for either an Eddie realization moment or for a planting of the seed in his head moment. (If I were writing it, I would do it like this.) In this reality, Buck and Eddie are already 'Buddie,' so after a day of work or whatever Buck could possibly drive Eddie home, but then not leave. Eddie isn't too concerned because Buck has practically wrapped himself around Eddie's neck since everything went down with Chris. However, later when Eddie is lying quietly in bed the covers shift and Buck gets in bed with him. Eddie jumps and flounders around for the light, and Buck just says, "Sorry. I was trying not to wake you." He finishes crawling under the covers and cuddles close to Eddie. Eddie is shocked and frozen to the spot. Buck doesn't notice. He just says, "Hit the light Papi... unless... you're not feeling tired." And gives Eddie that look that says, "Are you ready for it." AND it brings

THIS energy.

[Small break to apologize for the Papi line. I do not like the whole Daddy thing. I don't kink shame, but the Daddy thing is not for me. That said. Papi just HITS differently. I can't explain it forgive me.]

Also, here is a photo of Buck in the alternate reality. (Again, if I were writing it, I would let the tattoos stay. I would also let him speak with his real accent.) Bonus, if I were writing it, at the end of the episode when Eddie is back to himself, he may not admit to Buddie right away, but he would ask Buck to speak with an accent. Buck thinks it's a weird request, but he does it. However, he does it with the worst possible British accent you can imagine. Like Gandalf chewing marbles. Eddie stops him and tells him to never do it again, so we are back to Buck's American accent. lol

Oh, and here is that "if you aren't tired expression" I was referring to earlier when he asked if Papi was tired or not.

This post is so long, and I haven't even touched on the theory of Eddie having a hurt arm or hand... A few weeks ago, Ryan G. said something about, "when you have to fight one-handed." So he hurt his hand and is still so mad, that he's trying to fight with just one... Lawd, help me.

While I still maintain that I do not hate that Tommy guy, I am so down with a jealous Eddie fighting him because he thinks that Tommy has somehow hurt Buck. Equally okay, with Eddie punching Gerard and hurting his hand.

Edit and reblog because I have one more thing to add. If I were writing it, and if this is actually one of Oliver S.'s tattoos. I would 100% make sure this tattoo got screen time, and regardless of the real meaning of the tattoo. For an alternate reality Buck, THIS WAS his aha moment.