#like we all hoped it would somehow turn out this way but then for it to actually happen??? wild

[sleepingdiaryzzz]

yandere!young justice x magician and sorcerer!reader

BUUUUUUUUUT,the readed is a part of the team,however,shows no interest in them,and it just there because she kinda just has to,and no matter how much they try to get her attention,she never gives them any of it.

(I love your writing btw😼)

Yandere! Young Justice x magician! Reader

The Cave was quiet, as it always was at night, the hum of machines and distant murmurs of the world outside barely touching the stillness that clung to the mountain like a second skin. In this isolated hollow, surrounded by the cool stone walls, you could hear your own thoughts—the whisper of spells, the pulse of magic, the unspoken words you chose not to say.

You never had to explain yourself here, never had to wear the mask of pleasantries or pretend you cared about anything more than the mission. The others, they didn’t understand. They couldn’t, not really. You weren’t like them, never had been. You didn’t need the comfort of their companionship. You didn’t want their attention, their curiosity, or their pity.

And yet, they tried.

Conner was always watching. A silent presence, brooding and intense, always lingering in the background, his eyes following your every movement. He never asked questions—no, that wasn’t his style. Instead, he observed, the way a predator watches its prey, calculating, waiting. He never made an effort to speak, not in the way Wally did with his incessant jokes or M'gann with her quiet warmth. Conner was patient, cold, waiting for something to crack, for something to change.

His silence was a constant reminder. He didn’t need to speak; you could feel his presence, the weight of his gaze pressing down on you, always at the edge of your vision, always waiting.

It was unsettling, but you never let it show.

Wally was a different story altogether. His energy was like a crackling fire, unpredictable, always bouncing from one thing to the next. He couldn’t sit still, couldn’t leave you be. "Come on," he would say, leaning over your shoulder as you worked on a spell, his grin wide and carefree. "Show me something cool. You know you’ve got some crazy magic tricks up your sleeve."

His insistence was always accompanied by that grin of his, mischievous and bright, as though his charm could draw you out of your shell. But you never did. You never gave him the satisfaction of seeing you smile, never let him see you as more than just another teammate. It wasn’t his fault—he was just trying to make the team feel more like a family. But you didn’t care about family. You didn’t care about any of them.

“I’m busy,” you’d say, dismissing him with a flick of your hand, returning to your spell. And Wally, ever the optimist, would laugh and zip away, the sound of his footsteps echoing as he left you to your silence.

But it wasn’t enough for him, no. His persistence was a thing of legend. Sometimes you’d catch him watching you, his gaze fixed, a question burning in his eyes. "Why are you always like this?" he seemed to ask with every look. But he never voiced it. Instead, he’d turn away, hoping that somehow, eventually, you’d change your mind.

Then there was Robin. The dark and silent watcher. He knew how to stay in the shadows, how to be everywhere without being seen. His presence was like the night itself—always there, always watching, never truly gone. Robin was the most subtle of them all. He never asked outright; instead, he would drop little comments, observations that always felt like a puzzle, like he was trying to figure you out, piece by piece.

"You know, you could talk to us more," he’d say, casually leaning against the wall as he watched you work. His tone was light, almost playful, but you could sense the undercurrent of something more—something deeper. “We don’t bite, you know.”

You didn’t respond. Of course, you didn’t. The only response he got was the steady flick of your fingers over the spellbook, the quiet hum of magic filling the space between you. He didn’t try to get too close, not like Wally or M'gann, but his eyes never stopped tracking you, always measuring, always calculating. Robin was patient, the kind of person who knew that some things took time, that some people had walls that needed to be broken down slowly.

And you? You weren’t going to let him.

M'gann was the opposite. Her presence was always warm, soft, inviting. She would sit beside you, her legs tucked under her, her eyes wide with curiosity. "You know," she would say with that gentle voice of hers, "I could help you with your spells. I can be a good study partner, if you ever need one."

Her kindness wasn’t forced, never had been. It was natural for her, as natural as breathing. She wasn’t like the others who were driven by some sense of duty or curiosity. No, M'gann’s attention was genuine, a quiet offer of companionship. She was the one who tried to reach you without asking, without expecting anything in return.

But you didn’t need help. You didn’t need her to reach you. And so, you’d quietly decline, giving her nothing more than a polite smile before returning to the words in your book, the pages filled with symbols that had no need for her warmth.

And then there was Artemis. The sharp, straightforward one. She didn’t waste time on subtlety. Her approach was always direct, blunt, like a sharp blade that never hesitated. "You don’t have to be so closed off, you know," she’d say, her voice a mix of irritation and something else. It was hard to tell with Artemis—her eyes were always guarded, her emotions always hidden behind a wall of indifference. "We’re all in this together."

She had a point, of course. But you didn’t care. You didn’t care about being “in it together.” You had your own path to follow, and they weren’t a part of it. You didn’t need to explain that to her, or to anyone. So, you’d give her a nod, a brief acknowledgment that wasn’t really an acknowledgment, and move on with your work.

Kaldur was the calm one, the quiet one. His respect for you was obvious, but it never crossed the line into anything more. He would offer you a nod as he passed, his gaze soft, his presence steady like the water he controlled. He didn’t push you the way the others did. He didn’t try to break down your walls. He simply respected them, kept his distance, and allowed you to be as you were.

But even Kaldur had moments when his gaze would linger on you, just a second too long, like he was waiting for you to finally open up, to let him see more than the cold silence you kept locked behind your eyes.

It wasn’t much, but it was enough. Enough for you to feel the weight of their gaze, the quiet pressure of their attention. They thought they understood you. They thought that if they just tried enough, kept reaching out, eventually, you’d let them in.

But you wouldn’t.

In the midst of their attempts, you kept your distance, always lost in the pages of your spells, your incantations, the quiet hum of power that thrummed beneath your fingertips. They were drawn to you, like moths to a flame, their fascination burning just beneath the surface of their words, their glances, their actions.

But you would remain untouched. You would keep your secrets locked away, your magic a barrier between you and the world they wanted to draw you into.

They didn’t understand it, not really. They couldn’t. You were not like them. You didn’t need what they offered. You didn’t need to be a part of their team, their family, their world. You were the silent watcher, the one who kept their distance while they reached out, always hoping that something would change.

But it wouldn’t.

You weren’t there for them. You were there because you had a purpose, one that had nothing to do with them, nothing to do with the team, and nothing to do with any of their quiet, unspoken obsessions. You would remain distant, and they would keep trying, never understanding why you remained so cold, so unreachable.

And that, for now, was enough.

(A/n: thank you kind fellow fur🤭😽)

[nursexanya]

Anya hardly had the time to process that Swansea was coming in before he’d thrown his arms around her. She supposed that if he tried to hug her again, sometime when she had her sense of reality freshly shattered, it would feel nice, but for now, all it did was make her panic even worse.

She was cornered, back against the wall, nowhere to duck or run, and acting purely on her fear response alone. So, she turned her head and bit down on Swansea’s arm until he let go of her. She would apologize for that later.

“How the Hell can you say that?” She cried as she staggered away from him, one hand against the wall keeping her steady, “We’re safe? You think we’re safe? How are we safe?!”

Her chest heaved in a desperate attempt to find air, fresh blood dripping from her nose, only worsening the mess of red caked onto her face, but however ghastly she looked was the least of her concerns, “He’s not going to— That’s not going to happen, you know that’s not going to happen— we’re stuck! We’re never getting off this ship!”

Did Curly know that this would happen, too? He seemed to know how it all would end, just like Jimmy had, had he just let her sit in her false hope that somehow she would find a way out?

She needed answers. She needed some way to make sense of all of this, to know how they could possibly fix it, and there weren’t any to be found in the room that she’d died in, and she worried that spending one more moment in it would make her sick. So, she turned on her heel and ran out the door, as fast as her wobbling baby horse legs would carry her.

( @curlygrant44 @swan-and-bolts )

this thread is getting too long so it’s branching off time <3

”Stay still— Wait— please stay still—“ Anya begs as she tries to hold Jimmy down to the bed, but she knows well, by now, that nothing could be easy for her.

He falls and she can’t catch him, she can’t even bring herself to try. Blood trickles to the floor in scattered drops as he drags himself back up, towards Curly, and for a moment she watches in fear of what he might do.

But he only cries and mutters things she can’t even begin to make sense of, and for a moment, Anya is still, only watching as he weeps to his Captain.

Then she sees more blood trickling onto the floor, and remembers she has a job to do. She grabs a roll of bandages from the cabinet, but hesitates to get any closer than she has to. She looks back at Swansea, then at Jimmy and Curly, then at the bandages in her hands. Once again, she’s useless.

She takes a tentative step forward, then another, then slowly reaches for Jimmy’s shoulder, “I- You’re bleeding,” She tries, wondering if he can even hear her, “I need to take care of that.”

( @swan-and-bolts @curlygrant44 @cptjimmy yall lmk if anything needs changed!!)

[mc-lukanette]

"Clear as a music note, sincere as a melody. You've been the song stuck in my head since the day we first met."

Luka meant every word of it. He hadn't known Marinette for long but he knew people. Whether one called it intuition, a sixth sense, or nothing more than a "feeling," he didn't care. Marinette was a special girl and anyone who didn't know didn't understand her. It was the way she talked, the way she laughed, and even the way she was constantly stumbling over herself because she cared so much about others.

He felt it in her designs and had seen the process himself, how she would sit in the same spot for hours until someone snapped her out of it. He wore his Kitty Section costume proudly because of it and swore that it made him play better, just by having a piece of her with him.

That was all he needed, as far as he was concerned. Whether she loved him or not was irrelevant, and he only confessed at all in the first place because he wanted to alleviate whatever doubts she'd had. He was just happy to know her and to be called her friend.

She looked so beautiful against the colorful stage lights too. Had he not needed to leave, he might've told her so. He only hoped she wouldn't run off to let them take all the credit if there were any interviews afterward. She was just as big a part of the band as he was.

He smiled and released her shoulder, turning around to face the stage where he was set to play with the others. He took one step, two steps—

and then his wrist was snagged, pulling him back. He tried to keep his balance, especially as another hand grabbed at his jacket to bring him downwards. Everything was happening too fast, his vision only able to register the blur that was Marinette's face coming towards him.

Heat flooded his system as her lips came into contact with his skin, just to the side of his mouth. She'd kissed him on the cheek before, but that had come off entirely friendly as opposed to the one she'd given him now.

"Worse" still was that he knew she'd missed her intended target in her rush, which was definitely not his cheek.

It was over too soon, but he registered the voices behind him calling him to the stage as Marinette let him go and pulled away. Despite the bold move, she looked away sheepishly and cleared her throat, her blush obvious even in the lighting.

"U-um... good luck?" she said, giving him a fluttery wave.

His shoes felt like they were filled with very selective lead, keeping him firmly in place unless he was moving towards her specifically. Alas, his bandmates were still calling and not going would've ruined all the effort Marinette had put into getting them to this point.

Thus, he turned - for real this time - and went to set up with the others.

—————

Luka somehow managed to concentrate throughout the entire performance. The nice thing about his Kitty Section mask was that he could look around freely without being noticed, particularly at the siren of a girl standing in the background watching his every move. Her fingers were steepled in front of her mouth, making it hard to gauge her exact expression, but her eyes never left his.

Each note he played felt like a pleasant shock through his body, a positive feedback loop that kept going throughout the whole song. It'd happened before when he was in a good mood, playing his feelings through the strings, but not like this.

Not after being kissed by the one he was in love with, and not on a stage where the energy surrounding him was so high. Whenever he turned to the other bandmates, they were staring at him in bewilderment, but not in any bad way. He wasn't overshadowing them or throwing off the song, he was just more of what was already there, and the stage crew was getting into it.

It was fantastic.

By the time everything was over and the recording was done, there was nothing stopping him anymore. He wordlessly passed his guitar to a confused Rose, then walked off the stage, past the crew, and past a reporter who had snuck in and was asking him questions he didn't bother listening to. He pushed his mask up and took a straight path directly towards Marinette, who was bouncing from the thrill of the moment.

"That was incredible, Luka!" she squealed. "It sounded even better than in the video! People are going to love it, I—"

He grabbed her face and kissed her. It momentarily occurred to him that he could've said something romantic like, "I only played so well because you were there," which was true, but kissing her the way she'd tried to kiss him seemed like a far more appropriate response to what she'd done.

It felt equivalent to getting to play a song she'd written just for him, which was almost a shame. Had he known she could've made noises like she was just by him kissing her, he would've suggested a different type of song for the music video.

There was a shriek in the background that was probably Rose, which he paid no mind to. He broke the kiss, but remained hunched over to Marinette's level, still holding her blushing face and cherishing the warmth against his palms.

"Did you love it?" he asked quietly, stroking her cheeks. "That's all I care about."

Her voice had raised an octave when she replied, "O-of course? I said it was incredible! I love you—it! A lot!"

She managed to fit her hands between his, covering her face with an embarrassed whine. He sighed blissfully, dropping his hands to wrap his arms around her and bury his face into her shoulder.

"I can't believe you tried to kiss me," he began, then added even though he could've left it at that, "right before I had to go on stage."

"Sorry," came the muffled apology behind her hands, though he smirked when he caught the hint of not actually being sorry in her voice. She returned his embrace, squeezing and shaking a little as she whispered, "I should've done it sooner."

When Luka had thought just a few minutes ago that he would've been perfectly happy just getting to know Marinette and be her friend, he meant it, but he wasn't about to complain about being thrice as perfectly happy either.

[justme315]

New family 2/?

First part:

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️

Fear, mention of vomit , characters being religious, curse words, mention of sexual assault, mention of dehumanization

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

I was double fucked.

There we go again, me cursing for the second time while starting my story. I promise, I'll try my best for it to be the last time I start with that kinda sentence. Really.

It's just, if I though that what happened previously was bad then what happened later that day was literally hell. Well, yeah I can imagine worse (and believe me when I tell you what happened a few days later you will actually see far worse, but I can't spoil my own story) but it was still bad. Really bad.

Okay, some creeps that enjoy the company of giants would disagree that it was bad at all. But if you're not a giant-obsessed creep (sorry for calling some of y'all out) then you'll understand why it was so bad for me. Okay, back to the story.

As you might recall, I fained mare secounds before officially meeting my moms giant fiance and his sons. Yeah, great first impression. Dad would have been proud. He was just as awkward as me but this once I won with him on 'the worst first impression competition'. Well, I hope he saw this from heaven and laughed at me.

I suppose I though I would soon be 'reunited' with him, if you know what I mean.

C'mon, I can't be the only person that doesn't get why a giant would marry a human if they actually don't have any sick intentions! I mean, everything is really outta place, those kind of relationships have basically nothing to offer. I wouldn't say I'm a traditionalist, I'm bisexual myself so that is kinda impossible, but I'm not there for "mixed-sized" marriages if you know what I mean. They weren't legal (untill like 5 years previously to the story I'm telling you) for a reason!

Shoot, I'm talking about all those things again and you'll consider me a specist. Let's get back to what happened after I fainted.

I don't really know what happened mid-time, my mind was blank after I fainted all the way to the moment I have awoken. It was probably the first time I was actually so unconscious that I can't recall anything.

When I awoken, or more likely started to regain consciousness all I remember is the feeling of warmth. It was really, really warm.

It wasn't too good for me because I had puked what, like 10 minutes before that? Yeah, throwing up again wouldn't have turned out very well for me back then.

Once I finally opened my eyes I still felt dizzy. The whole world around me was moving and I promise you I heard my heart beating so loud that I though I was dying. Well, it wasn't exactly my heartbeat, I later found out.

For a few secounds I couldn't remember what I was doing before I fainted and I couldn't understand where was I. Everything was moving, like I was in a car, but far more.. enourmous.

Crap.

I forgot about those damn giants.

I tried to figure out where I was as I sat up. Whatever I was sitting on was squishy and warm. I tried to get my balance back as my eyes started to unblur. I heard my mom's voice.

"Zack! You're awake!" she yelled out with relief.

Oh yeah. Me and my mom were together. We were going to meet up with her boyfriend and his sons. Why did I forget about that? How did I?

I touched my head, feeling it hurt. What the hell was actually happening?

"Ethan, honey can you get me closer to Zack, please?" I heard my momma's voice once again, though it now wasn't directed to me.

Wait. Ethan? I know that name from somewhere... Oh, fuck.

"Sure, auntie, whatever you ask for" I heard a manly voice echo around me. It was so low and loud that it sounded like it was coming from some concert speakers rather than a real person. I was literally drowning in this voice that seemed to sound from every direction around me. As if I were somehow surrounded by it. Was this even possible?

"Just be careful Van, don't move too suddenly, Ethan is still learning how to manage an overly trusting human" I heard another manly, yet softer voice that somehow felt even more surreal. I was starting to understand what was happening. We were with the giants. Probably in a car. I was..

The same voice that spoke less than a secound ago let out a chuckle and I swear that once I started processing the words he had said I was about to freak out again when I found another reason to.

"Dad don't say that!" the voice around me echoed louder, making me feel my heart skip a beat. My head was spinning again "Auntie, don't listen to him. I work with human kids, I know just how to handle your kind, no need to worry"

The rest of the short conversation seemed blurred out to me. I was more concerned on a discovery I made. I finally figured out my surroundings.

I was half-sitting on the lap of a giant.

Ethan, specifically.

My eyes widden, my head screamed at me to freaking run away as far as possible, my legs felt groggy, my breathing fasten as I slowly raised my eyes, first looking at a enourmous stomach covered by a white comfy hoodie, then at a neck with visible veins (which creeped the heck out of me) and finally at a face of a gigantic beast named Ethan.

His hand was reaching out to Andrew, who was driving and my mom casually walked into his opened palm from the shoulder of her 'fiance'.

My teeth bit into my lower lip before I could let out a yelp at noticing how easily the freaking 60-ish foot tall dude handled my mama, my only treasure, only family.

My mom was soon lowered in my direction and believe me when I tell you, catching eye contact with a giant was the worse ever feeling for me back then.

Ethan smiled at me with those freaking fangs of a killer and I felt my whole stomach rushing up my throat.

If it wasn't for the fact that earlier I have literally vomited everything that was inside my body I would have surely puked at that moment.

I felt my freaking soul leaving my body as the gigantic dude-beast smiled at me and eyed me up and down.

"Hey, kid. I'm Ethan"

And I was back down.

Yep, I fainted again. I know shitty thing but damn, that's freaking terrifying! You wouldn't be much better facing a giant, I assure you!

Well, they didn't let me be unconscious (or dead at that point) for long enough, my mom rushed to me and shoke me awake.

"Sweetie! You fainted again!"

Yeah, no shit mom, I was on the lap of my probable future murderer that could literally do anything to me, I had nothing to be afraid of.

"I did..?" I mumbled, rubbing my face.

Don't call me a coward, I just wouldn't say something that rude to my mama, even if it was the truth. If you were raised properly by your mother you would know not to talk like that to her (unless she's a bitch, then go ahead).

"Maybe we should actually go to the hospital" said Andrew, looking at me for a secound and then back onto the road.

"No baby, I think he is just tired. Let's get him home and give him some time to rest and then we'll decide" my mom answered.

Ethan looked down at me with now a concerned expression but didn't say anything. He seemed conflicted. I don't know what was him problem but I appreciated that he didn't touch me nor say anything to me again directly.

Even though I appreciated not being touched, it didn't take my fear away, my body was still trembling and all I wanted was to hide from his gaze.

My mom worried sick and spoke some stuff to me for the rest of the ride, but if I'm being honest, I couldn't understand even a single word she said, I was too focused on the fact that I was on the lap of this enourmous young man and his eyes never left my body.

I actually felt a little sad (don't kill me mama) that I didn't just die at the airport. I wouldn't have had to be so close to giants.

Ethan had a conflicted and even sad look on his face but I couldn't actually figure out why. Maybe it was because he couldn't kill me in front of my mom? Would that even matter to him? Or was it his father or brother? I don't think they would've minded it. I was not actually sure why me and my mom were still alive but I was grateful to God that we were. I also prayed that my mom would escape somehow, with me preferably but my hope about her realizing we were in danger was long gone.

Before I knew how many miles we had traveled, the car stopped.

"And we're home" Andrew announced happily.

Ryan left the car, not saying a word, slamming the door so hard that not only me but also (surprisingly) my mom flinched.

Ethan turned his head around to face his brother but the two never made eye contact. That was weried. What was happening between those two? Okay, I was hella scared but drama is drama! As long as I'm not a part of it I'm a fan.

Andrew signed.

"He'll be over it soon, honey" the oldest giant said, looking at my mom, making a small, reassuring smile. Even though I was terrified of the giant and his voice made my head spin unpleasantly I felt some pity inside of my heart. Andrew was a tired dad with visibly some issues with Ryan. Yeah, he was my probable future murderer but I could still pity him a little.. right?

"I'm sure he will. He just needs some time to adjust, that's all" my mom answered her fiance. I was curious what was all of this about. I got so involved in trying to figure out the situation that for a secound I forgot that those were actually giants I was thinking about and being within their reach (do not remind me that I was on Ethan's lap, please, it was as scary as it could).

"I'll talk to him auntie, he can't be this rude to you both" Ethan added into the conversation. I didn't like how he called my mom 'auntie'. It sounded as if they had a relationship. And as if it was sincere. I hated it very much. I didn't like how they tricked my mom into believing that they had no sick intentions. She was my mom. Not their "auntie" nor "Van" (it's a nickname for Vanessa if you wanna know).

"We all need to adjust. It's not easy for neither of us. Sure, for me, your dad and you Ethan it might be easier but it's still hard to change our whole lives" my mom tried to sound assuring, petting the giants hand. I flinched as I realized what she was doing but I didn't say a word, I just held my trembling hands together with more pressure.

Ethan's eyes landed on me again. I swear he looked right into my soul. He didn't seem angry, more likely sad and surprised. What was he surprised about?

"We should be heading back home." Andrew spoke again, trying to look more positive, even though it was visible it was forced. That somehow made my heart ache. If he was a human I would have felt bad for him. But he wasn't a human.

Andrew opened his door. I realized that I couldn't get out of the car on my own. I paled again. My mom noticed and came closer to me, grabbing my arm for support as I stood up. Cold sweat flew down my spine. I didn't want to be touched by either of those giants. Abso-fucking-lutely not.

I closed my eyes tightly, expecting Ethan's enormous hands to grab me forcefully and carry me home as if I were a toy. My heart was beating faster, my breathing became shallower, my legs were barely able to keep my balance.

I felt a terrible pressure in my chest, that stinging feeling you feel when you're extremely anxious, as if something was crushing you from the inside.

I waited for a second, two, ten, but the grip never came.

All that happened was my mom speaking to me:

"Why are your eyes closed? Are you feeling worse again?"

I immediately opened my eyes and looked at her confused yet worried expression. My eyes then landed on Ethan who was now even more visibly shocked and sadden. What the hell was his problem exactly? Did I look this pitiful that even a giant pitied me? Dang.

"No mama, I'm f-fine.." my voice shook way more that I intended to reveal in front of the giant. I nervously moved form one leg to the other. I realized it was the first time I spoke in front of a giant in my normal volume voice. That one sentence mumbled before that was basically a whisper.

Ethan's gaze never left me as Andrew exited the car. My mom's as well, but her gaze was less intimidating.

I still don't really know how Ethan knew but I'm sure as hell he knew way more than my mom that I was scared. She acted as if I was just sick while he.. seemed to notice.

"Would it be okay if I took you in my open palm and took you back home?" the giant man spoke in a softer, slower and more quiet voice, his hands never moving an inch in our direction. It felt surreal.. was he really asking us about consent to being held? He could just grab us. He could do anything. He didn't need our consent. Even if we said 'no' he could still do anything he wanted. But somehow.. somehow the fact that he did ask was not only shocking but also.. slightly calming.

"Ethan, honey, what a silly question, of course you can!" My mom chuckled a little, smiling at the beast ahead of us.

"Sorry auntie, but I wasn't talking to you" he smiled softly at her, showing those fangs of his a little (which surprisingly didn't scare my mom but made me take a tiny step back) and then his eyes met mine and I felt uneasy, trapped even, my body stiffen "Zack, will you allow me to get you back home on my open palm? No pressure, kid"

My heart literally stopped for a moment. I was shocked he asked me that. I knew there was pressure - my mom, the giants, no other way into the house - but he pretended to care. To actually mind how I felt about that. He also never used the words 'hold' or 'grab' and he kept emphasizing that his hand would be open. I didn't know what game was he playing but he was doing it really well since I felt a little more easy about the whole situation.

I didn't want to be touched though. I hated that idea. I hated physical touch in general but being on a giants hand, totally dependent on him was even a thousand times worse. But what I was supposed to do? He would stop pretending to be polite once I said 'no'. Also, my mom would be mad. I didn't want my last memory of her to be anger.

"Zack, sweetie, Ethan asked you a question. Answer him, so we can get back home" my mom rushed me, though the giants eyes landed on her with dissaproval (though at first I mistaken it with anger, i must confess (I might have been a tiny little bit paranoid)).

"Y-Yeah.." I mumbled, or more likely yelped at Ethan's eyes returning to me. I could barely speak with him being this close.

He didn't seem convinced and wanted to say something but we heard Andrew calling from outside the car: "Are you coming or not?"

The giants eyes scanned me up and down again and then he slowly moved his right hand and lowered it onto his lower thigh, still leaving about 6 meters between himself and me. My mom rushed to get on him palm, while I stood there, biting my lower lip. The feeling in my chest returned. I looked up for support in my mom but her eyes didn't even meet mine. But Ethan's did.

"It's alright Zack, I promise I won't drop you, I know to handle humans" he spoke softly and quietly as if trying to calm down a startled animal. Was this what I was to him? A scared kitten? Humiliating.

My mom's eyes landed on me and she then looked as if she finally realized what was actually stopping me from getting on that palm. But it was as clear as day she would not reveal that I was scared of Ethan. I don't know why, wasn't it obvious?

"Ethan, honey he is just scared he will fall, that's all. Zack don't be silly and come here" she chuckled nervously as if trying to hide a secret. Good job mom, totally not suspicious and totally not making me look like a coward. Good job.

I took a deep breath and a unsteady step ahead. It was the first time in my life that my legs didn't obey to my will. Well, it wasn't exactly my will but I tried to actually pretend like I wasn't afraid.

I looked up and Ethan looked at me with those enourmous hazel eyes full of pity and emphaty.

I finally figured out why I and my mom were still alive.

They must have viewed us as pets.

I gulped at that though. I remembered how gentle and polite I was to my first hamster - exactly like Ethan was to me now. Great, I was going to be dehumanized for the rest of my supposably short life. Lovely.

"It's alright" he cooed again, as if talking to a baby animal. It really pissed me off. I am clearly not an animal! Like damn, I am an average (maybe even a little handsome) guy, not a pet.

I actually enjoyed the fact that I was more annoyed than scared at that moment, this emotion didn't stop my legs from moving at last.

It took me a moment but I actually did get on the giants hand. The fear returned to my body. I was pretty much petrified. This was freaking unnatural. I was standing on something so squishy, warm, unsteady, so alive. I hated being held by a giant. His long fingers creeped me out the most. They twitched from time to time.

The enourmous guy spoke again "Hang on, we're heading out".

He soon stood up and exited the car. I gulped, feeling all my organs moving. Saying I was uptight was an understatement. It was like an extreme rollercoaster, only without any protection, while standing up and with an unpredictable route. I couldn't help but let out another yelp as he started walking. I couldn't really keep my balance well, but my mom held me in place.

The ground was so far away that I knew if I fell down I would 100% die. My mom somehow wasn't bothered by that. Like, we get it mom, you're a crazy, giant-obsessed, old woman but freaking have some decency and don't be elated by being in danger! (Please don't let my mom find this blog, she will kill me).

My heart was pounding faster than it physically could. I promise you, I have had a heart attack. I tried not to move, just to ensure myself that I wouldn't die falling down.

It didn't help that Ethan's eyes LITERALLY never left me. Like, how creepy can you be?

Oh.

What if I was supposed to be HIS pet?

This would have made sense. Andrew would take mom, Ethan me and Ryan was pissed off at both of them because he didn't get a pet. It sounded realistic.

My mouth went dry at that though. What would he do to me? I have heard stories of humans being dehumanized and held as pets by giants. Some kept them in cages. Some forced them to be nude in those. They would feed them trash. They would force them not to speak. They would punish any disobedience very, very harshly.

My eyes became glossy, tears began to built in them.

What would be Ethan's punishment towards me?

This question made me almost break down. What would he do to me? Would he be the "nice owner" that treats pets with care? Or would he be cruel?

I remembered my friends story, when we were back in my school. He told us about his cousin who was kidnapped by a giant. I think I told you this story before. What if my fate was similar?

What if I would be abused mentally, physically and sexually?

Oh my dearest Lord God what if that was it? What if both of them were sexually deprived creeps? What if Andrew was 'dating' my mom, becouse that was what was in his mind? Was I about to become a victim of that? Would anyone even believe me? Would anyone save me? Would anyone save my mama?

I muffled my sob. I was fucking terrified.

Lord God, please hear my prayers and save us - I prayed - Please God, don't let them harm my mom. I don't care anymore what tortures I'll go through but please save mommy.

Before my mind could take me any further we entered the house - my new prison.

It was freaking enormous but I have to admit, it was also pretty. Those dudes were freaking affluent. I wiped my eyes, trying to hide my fear. My mom's eyes now met mine.

"Is everything okay sweetie?" My mom petted my shoulder. I smiled sadly at her. We were about to die but we were together. We were a team. As long as I was with her it was okay.

"Yeah" I mumbled, hugging her, fearing it would be the last time.

"Welcome to your new home!" Andrew announced.

Welcome to hell.

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

Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed it 🥰 Can't wait for y'all's questions and theories!

[aventurineswife]

Hello! Apologies for not using the request box, but I wanted to ask anonymously. Is it possible for you to do Aventurine with a reader who has agoraphobia? Somewhat similar to Futaba Sakura from Persona 5. They struggle to leave their home and whenever they do, they end up feeling very light-headed and scared due to the anxiety that comes with it, and rely heavily on a trusted person to feel safe with. Hope I explained it well enough, it's so late here rn so I'm like half-asleep rn lol, tysm!

“Hold my hand and I’ll take you there, somehow, someday”

Summary: Aventurine helps you face your agoraphobia, taking small steps together to step outside your home. Though the outside world feels overwhelming, his unwavering support and gentle encouragement help you navigate the anxiety, proving that no matter the obstacles, you’re never alone when he's by your side.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Agoraphobia, Anxiety, Supportive Relationship, Comfort, Gentle Romance, Emotional Support, Soft Moments.

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety and agoraphobia, Light-hearted but emotional themes, Mild panic/anxiety attacks.

A/N: dw! I'm literally half asleep most of the time while writing these fics 💀

Aventurine had always been a man of high stakes and calculated risks. His world revolved around strategy, manipulation, and power. But there was something about you that made him discard all his usual games. With you, everything felt different. You were his sanctuary, a calm he could never find anywhere else.

He first met you at a party, his usual charm and sharp wit on full display, yet he found himself drawn to you in a way he hadn't anticipated. You were quiet, a little reserved, yet there was a depth to you that intrigued him. It wasn't until much later that he learned about your struggle—your agoraphobia, the anxiety that clung to you like a second skin, making the outside world seem more like a battlefield than a place for living.

You never fully revealed the extent of your fears, but Aventurine, ever the observant strategist, had seen enough to understand. When your trembling hands would grip the edge of the doorframe when you were about to step outside, when you'd look to him with uncertainty, he knew.

Tonight, as the world outside was cloaked in the soft glow of the streetlights, Aventurine stood in the doorway of your apartment, eyes flicking to you with a gentle concern.

"You're thinking of going out again, aren't you?" His voice was smooth, like velvet, though there was a hint of playfulness in it. He always knew when your thoughts drifted toward venturing outside.

You hesitated, fingers nervously playing with the hem of your sleeve. "I... I just feel like I should try. I need to do it. Maybe just for a short walk."

He stepped closer to you, his presence like a calm weight in the room. "You know you don't have to, right? But, if you do, I'll be right by your side. Always."

His words were like a lifeline, pulling you back from the edge of anxiety. Aventurine's soft smile reminded you that, despite the world outside being overwhelming, you weren't alone. Not when he was with you.

"I... I don't want to be a burden." you murmured, glancing away, embarrassed by the constant need for his support.

Aventurine tilted your chin gently, making you meet his gaze. His eyes glistened with warmth and understanding. "You could never be a burden to me. I’m here because I want to be. And you’re not weak for needing help. You're brave for even considering it."

His words wrapped around you like a blanket, soothing the tightness in your chest. The weight of the world outside, so daunting and far-reaching, suddenly seemed lighter when you were with him.

"Just a walk. And if you need to turn back, we turn back. No questions asked. No shame." Aventurine reassured you, his hand gently brushing against yours.

You looked at him, your heart beating a little faster, but this time not from fear. There was a soft fluttering inside you, an unfamiliar warmth spreading through your chest.

Slowly, you nodded. "Okay. Let's try. But only if you're with me."

"Always." he promised, his smile widening as he took your hand in his, leading you to the door.

The walk outside was nothing extraordinary to most. It was just a few blocks around the neighborhood, the moon casting a soft light on the sidewalks. But to you, it was everything. Each step you took outside was a victory, and each moment of his presence beside you made the world feel just a little less intimidating.

Aventurine kept the conversation light, his voice drawing you out of your head. He teased you gently about your nervous glances at every passerby, and you laughed, the sound bright and genuine. Even as your heart raced and your thoughts threatened to spiral, he was there, grounding you with his presence, reminding you that there was no rush. No pressure.

Halfway through the walk, you began to feel the familiar light-headedness creeping in, the anxious tension rising like a storm in your chest. Your breath hitched, and your grip tightened on his hand.

"Aventurine, I—" you began, but he squeezed your hand gently, cutting you off.

"Hey, it’s okay," he said softly, stopping in his tracks. He turned you toward him, his eyes full of understanding. "You don’t have to go any further. Let’s head back, yeah? We’ve already won by being out here, together."

You blinked at him, a wave of relief washing over you. You had feared that stepping outside, just stepping out the door, would somehow break you, but with him, you realized that you didn't need to conquer the world all at once. Small steps mattered too.

You nodded, taking a deep breath. "Yeah... let’s go back."

With a smile, Aventurine tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, the light from the streetlamp catching the delicate curve of his smile. "See? No need to rush. We have all the time in the world."

The walk back felt different—lighter. You could feel the weight lifting off your shoulders as Aventurine led you back to your apartment, his hand firmly clasped around yours. It wasn’t just about the journey outside. It was about knowing that, with him, you didn’t have to fight your battles alone.

When you finally stepped back inside your sanctuary, the familiar walls offering you comfort, Aventurine closed the door behind you both, turning to face you with an almost proud glint in his eyes.

"Look at you," he said softly, his voice full of affection. "You did it. You made it outside, and we did it together. I'm so proud of you."

A small smile tugged at your lips as you leaned against him, the comforting presence of his warmth surrounding you. "I couldn’t have done it without you."

Aventurine chuckled, brushing his lips lightly against your forehead. "I’ll always be here. You’re never alone."

And as you stood there, in your home, with him by your side, you realized that with Aventurine, stepping into the world didn’t seem so impossible. Not when you had a partner who understood, who would walk beside you no matter how many steps it took.

[freedomsargeant]

Complete | Paul Aron

Hello loves! Thought I would make another book now that I'm on Thanksgiving break. My requests are open if anyone would like me to write them a little something! I hope you enjoy it!

Paul Aron X OC

Summary: Paul is unhappy with the race results and Olivia decides to spend the rest of the day trying to cheer him up

Warnings: none, it's all fluff!

Paul leaned back against his car, eyes fixed on the ground. The pit area was quiet now, the buzz of the race weekend already fading into the usual background of his life. But today was different. Today, disappointment felt heavier. He was lost in thoughts of missed turns and split-second miscalculations when he heard familiar footsteps approaching.

"Hey, you," Olivia said, her voice bright and comforting as she walked up beside him. Her smile, as usual, softened the edge of his frustration, if only a little.

"Hey, Liv," he murmured, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

She tilted her head, looking him over. “Rough day, huh?”

Paul nodded, swallowing back the urge to vent his frustration. His races mattered to him more than anything, and today’s loss—well, it stung. “Could’ve done better. I don’t know...everything felt off.”

Without a word, she leaned against the car beside him, shoulder to shoulder. He felt a familiar warmth, the same comfort that Olivia always brought. They'd been close for years, ever since he'd started racing in junior karting leagues. She’d seen every high and low and somehow never wavered in her support.

“Hey, I have an idea,” she said suddenly. “How about we leave the pit and just...do something fun? Like, something not-racing related?”

He couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. Olivia always had a way of making things better, even if he didn’t quite understand how she did it.

“Alright,” he said, surprising himself. “What do you have in mind?”

* * * *

They found themselves at a small park overlooking the city, and Olivia had come prepared with a blanket and a bag of snacks she’d picked up on the way. Paul realized how rare it was to see this side of life, away from the endless noise of racing, the thrill of speed. He hadn’t really just...stopped in a long time.

They sat down, and she handed him a snack without a word, her usual sense of timing impeccable. She knew he needed a little time to shake off the disappointment.

“It’s okay to feel let down sometimes,” she said, as if reading his mind. “You’re always so focused, so hard on yourself. But, Paul, it’s also okay to just...be.”

“Be?” He chuckled lightly, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t think that’s in my programming, Liv. You know that.”

She laughed, nudging him with her shoulder. “I know. But you can try for one afternoon, can’t you?”

He looked over at her, really looked this time. Her bright eyes, her steady presence...for a moment, the frustration of the day melted away. She wasn’t here to talk about the race, to criticize his laps, or even to ask him why he was feeling low. She was just here for him, exactly as he was.

“You know, I don’t say this enough,” he said quietly. “But...thanks. For being here, I mean. For always knowing exactly what to say and when to say it.”

A soft smile spread across her face, a look he hadn’t seen before, or maybe had never really noticed. “It’s nothing, Paul. It’s just...I know you. I know how much racing means to you. And it’s okay to be disappointed. But you’re more than one race, you know?”

Her words lingered in the air, and for the first time, he found himself really seeing her, understanding what she meant to him. Olivia had been there through every victory, every setback, her presence as constant and grounding as the road beneath his tires. She wasn’t just his friend—she was his anchor.

He took a breath, suddenly aware of how close they were sitting, their shoulders brushing, their faces just inches apart. There was a spark between them, something he’d brushed off or ignored, thinking it was just the comfort of a close friendship.

But now, in the quiet of the park, with her gaze soft and knowing, he realized he didn’t want to ignore it anymore.

“Liv...” he started, his voice catching. He cleared his throat, forcing himself to speak the words he’d been holding back. “I...I don’t think I could do this without you. Racing, life—any of it. You make it...better.”

She looked up, her eyes searching his face, her expression softening. “Paul, I’ll always be here for you. I don’t need you to be perfect. I just need you to be...you.”

He felt his heart pound, realizing just how precious she was to him, how much he’d come to rely on her presence, her quiet strength. Without thinking, he reached over, letting his hand find hers. It was a simple touch, but it said everything he couldn’t quite find the words for.

For the first time in what felt like ages, he didn’t feel the weight of the race, the disappointment, or the pressure. He just felt...complete.

As they sat there, watching the city lights blink to life in the distance, he realized that maybe—just maybe—he’d found something even more valuable than a win on the track.

[weptsorrow]

while ivan's features remained indifferent, there was an undeniable spark of anger boiling beneath the surface. he didn't experience such strong emotions often, let alone allowed them to show, but seeing his best friend be grabbed and mistreated like this was the one thing that never failed to bring them forth. he didn't flinch at the display of blood or bones seemingly cracking, till crying out, even if he hated hearing them. there was nothing he could do.

mizi's pod was right next to his own, and it was the one thing that separated him from till, and he'd noticed that in the last few seconds before the younger had lost consciousness, his eyes were looking for her. not the raven-haired man; no. it was like he was little more than a ghost. it didn't matter— ivan was used to this. he just found it curious that even in his last breath, mizi was the one last hope till tended to cling to.

it didn't take long for the remaining survivors to be taken backstage once more— it was ivan's turn to sing now, and as he entered the dressing room, he found himself... alone. with till knocked out and mizi unwilling to talk to anyone, two other contestants dead, and luka was who knows where, while marty was in the adjacent room rehearsing some lines in these last few moments; he could hear the man singing.

“ ... ” the loneliness didn't bother him; if anything, he found the irony of it amusing. it always came back to this. ivan had no friends, no one rooting for him. he imagined that if he died, unsha would just be mad about all the money he'd lost by betting it all on the wrong dog. and probably couldn't face urak after this; he remembered hearing about their scuffle. what was even more ironic was that ivan had found a liking in his owner's rival's pet. if they knew, they'd probably be even more mad than about the potential lost investments.

he stepped over to the mirrors, fixing his hair, flashing a few smiles with a tilt of his head... but perhaps this wouldn't be neccessary, given the song's nature. perhaps he could be himself, just this once. as he was looking at his reflection, dead eyes with a glint of red, he heard the beginning of the countdown, breaking the white noise— further complaints about till ruining everything again. it was a good thing their guardians were relegated to the audience, so they weren't here to punish their pets by whatever means they deemed neccessary... but somehow, in some way, ivan swore he could hear urak's yelling through all that.

the man sighed, and tugged on each of his gloves and adjusted the belts on his thigh, before shifting his gaze towards his opponent who'd just joined him in the room. ivan said nothing, and simply headed for the elevator. he wasn't nervous as they began to rise up. his eyes were focused on the microphone stand in front of him, allowing for them to close as the first rays of light hit his face with the saturn-inspired stage opening above him. a step forward was taken; he heard the first beats of drums. slender fingers slid up the silver stand before wrapping around the microphone itself, and he pulled it closer to him with one final breath.

the soggy darkness crouched down even if we shake our heads, it's always the same place i can't reach you, so i imagine alone you who shines, i stand next to you

ivan sang for himself; there was no one listening. the crowd didn't matter, his so-called father didn't matter, the remaining contestants didn't matter, and... till, well— he didn't care, ivan knew. the only reason why he needed to sing this well was to ensure that in till's following round, nothing could go wrong and make him lose. he didn't know if he hated this or not— the stage was pretty, he loved the stars. but it oh-so made him remember things. he loved the stars... but he also hated them.

marty sang his part next and... ivan was convinced he could deliver the lyrics much better than that. another breath, and he grasped the microphone with a newfound vigor, singing the next lines of the chorus with something he thought repressed. an emotion he couldn't quite describe; but it left him wanting.

so black, black as it can be the dark sea gets deeper as you approach like a black, black sorrow a story of such woe at the end of this story, there is only a cold spot stained with blood and empty air

memories resurfaced, ones that bitterly reminded him of all the things he'd done in hopes of being noticed, of being liked back... and the anger that came with never receiving it. anger was so easy to pinpoint, so easy to identify. much more than something as vague as love. ivan's voice turned raw with the intensity he was singing; maybe the audience did matter. maybe, just maybe, someone that cared would hear him.

it was then that he noticed the holograms of the stars of this elaborate stage falling— he turned his gaze up towards them, reminiscent of the time he'd almost died, and the time till had turned his back to him.

it was beautiful.

holding the microphone in one hand, the other rose up, reaching out towards that illuminated void, as if he could touch those stars, as if they could possibly bring him some salvation— but they were all far too out of reach... the fact that they were mere projections didn't even cross ivan's mind in that moment. he just wanted. wanted, wanted, wanted.

such black, black sorrow to me you are to me, you are my black sorrow you are my black sorrow you are my black sorrow

the score board had then settled on a distinct score difference of 90—68, and amidst the last few chords of the piano, ivan could hear the piercing sound of a bullet; and the bull thud of a body hitting the floor right next to him. he didn't look marty's way, solely staring down onto the audience cheering. in the front row, he could make out unsha and his ever-present bodyguards. and ivan didn't feel anything. no sense of pride nor accomplishment. it was just a deed done; a neccessity. there was no revelling for him in their cheers and applause, before he turned his back to them all to make space for the final round of the night.

  ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she  had  remained  unresponsive  since  the  end  of  her  round,  her  body  still  as  a  statue,  golden  hues  dull  and  vacant,  reflecting  none  of  the  light  that  had  once  danced  in  them  —  the  exact  thing  till  had  been  playing.  even  after  her  face  had  been  meticulously  cleaned,  she  gave  no  sign  of  acknowledgment,  her  features  eerily  serene.  deposited  unceremoniously  in  the  observation  pods,  she  found  herself  an  unwilling  spectator,  bound  to  watch  a  spectacle  she  no  longer  wished  to  be  part  of.  the  muffled  strains  of  another  song  floated  effortlessly  into  the  room  —  but  mizi  didn’t  listen.  she  couldn’t.

‎ ‎ ‎it’s  only  when  the  large  screen  suddenly  flickers,  illuminating  the  room  in  harsh  flashes  of  red  and  as  it  cuts  to  till  that  her  head  sluggishly  lolls  upward.  her  eyes,  still  unfocused,  take  in  the  image  of  the  younger  man  —  his  guitar  raised  high  above  his  head  like  a  weapon.  she  watches,  detached,  as  he  brings  it  crashing  down  with  a  ferocity  that  makes  the  instrument  splinter  organs  spilling  out.

  ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ — a  cacophony  of  voices  erupts  in  the  room,  a  discordant  symphony  of  anger  and  disgust.  a  colourful  array  of  curses  fills  the  air,  each  word  shouted  venomously,  slurs  spat  with  unfiltered  hatred  against  non-human  beings.  robotic  hands  descend  swiftly,  their  cold,  metallic  grip  unyielding  as  they  shove  till  toward  the  exit.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎he  kicks  out  hard,  barefoot  smashing  against  metal,  but  his  resistance  is  brief.  another  claw  latches  onto  his  arm,  twisting  painfully,  while  a  third  seizes  his  leg,  forcing  him  to  stumble.  a  sickening  pop  echoes  through  the  room  as  his  shoulder  is  wrenched  too  far  back,  and  a  sharp  cry  escapes  his  lips.  still,  the  limbs  are  relentless,  pinning  his  arms  tightly  against  his  sides  as  a  bulky  restraint  is  slammed  around  his  torso,  cinching  him  inescapably.  a  muzzle  follows,  clamped  over  his  mouth  with  a  brutal  efficiency  that  leaves  no  room  for  protest.

  ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎teal  hues  flash  with  fury,  darting  around  wildly,  searching  for  any  way  to  keep  fighting.  but  before  he  can  find  one,  his  head  is  shoved  unceremoniously  against  the  glass  of  his  observation  pod,  the  faint  green  glow  casting  shadows  across  bloodied  features.  through  the  haze  of  pain,  he  catches  a  glimpse  of  movement  —  long,  pink  hair  shimmering  like  silk  under  the  lights.  his  gaze  freezes  momentarily,  and  he  almost  sees  her  face.  she’s  looking  his  way,  he’s  sure  of  it  —  but  the  connection  slips  away  as  quickly  as  it  comes.

‎ ‎the  door  to  the  pod  hisses  open,  and  till  is  thrust  inside  with  a  force  that  hits  him  against  the  front  of  the  glass.  his  head  pounds,  thoughts  spiralling  in  dizzying  loops,  each  one  more  fragmented  than  the  last.  his  body  feels  too  heavy, strength  drained,  and  though  he  knows  she’s  there,  watching  him  from  across  the  divide,  he  can’t  muster  the  will  to  lift  his  head.

[hunsa-jars]

Dread be dreading

[xhanisai]

ML fandom when Marinette/Ladybug calls Chat Noir by cute nicknames and gets angry and upset when he's hurt and when she laughs at his jokes: *silence* ML fandom when Marinette/Ladybug doesn't reciprocate Chat Noir's romantic feelings in the beginning: SHE IS A HORRIBLE PERSON!!!! SHE DOESN'T CARE ABOUT HIM!!! SCREEEEEEEE!!!!!

[siena-sevenwits]

Disclaimer: These thoughts are more emotionally than logically expressed, and reflect my own experience and preference.

[steviescrystals]

guys things are happening

[lostfracturess]

seven minutes of misunderstanding — satoru gojo

of all the ridiculous situations you've found yourself in, being trapped in a closet with satoru gojo has to top the list. especially when you're convinced he's dating his best friend.

Of all the places you expected to end up tonight, being crammed in a tiny closet with Satoru Gojo wasn't one of them.

A stupid campus party game had somehow led to this moment—you, him, and about fifteen winter coats in a space barely big enough for one person, let alone two.

You're painfully aware of every point where your bodies touch — your back against his chest as you try to avoid the hanging coats, his breath tickling your neck, his hand awkwardly hovering somewhere near your waist like he's not sure where to put it.

The closet is so small that when you attempt to turn around to face him (because somehow facing him seems less intimate than having his breath on your neck), your chest brushes against his.

You hear his sharp intake of breath, feel the way his body tenses against yours. You're so close to him in a way it makes your skin tingle, and you're grateful for the darkness hiding your blush.

"So..." Satoru drawls. "Come here often?"

"Did you seriously just—" You try to gesture incredulously and end up elbowing him in the ribs with enough force to make him grunt. "Shit, sorry!"

You try to put some distance between you but that only results in you stepping on his foot. "Oh god, I'm so sorry! Again!"

"Just—don't move," he says, his hands finally finding your shoulders to hold you still. You feel the warmth of his palms through your shirt as he clears his throat. "We could just... not do anything. Nothing has to happen if you don't want it to. We can just wait it out."

The consideration in his voice surprises you. You try to see his face in the darkness and end up with a mouthful of fuzzy coat. After spitting out what you hope isn't synthetic fur, you say, "That's really sweet of you. And like, I get it. This must be super awkward for you too."

"Awkward?" He sounds puzzled.

"Yeah, I mean... being stuck in here with a girl when you're..."

"When I'm what?"

"You know..." You wave your hand vaguely in the narrow space. "I just meant, like, with you and Geto..."

There's a moment of complete silence, and then Satoru starts laughing so hard you can feel him shaking against you. "You think— me and Suguru? Oh my god, is that why you turned me down for lunch last month?"

"Wait, what? I thought you were just being nice! You're always hanging all over Geto—"

"Because he's my best friend."

"And that time I saw you feeding him—"

"He had a broken arm!"

"The couples' costume at Halloween—"

"We were Mario and Luigi! They are brothers."

Every explanation makes you want to dissolve into the floor more. "Oh my god," you say. "You know everyone on campus thinks you're gay—not that there's anything wrong with that! I totally support you two, you're so cute together and—"

"Can you please stop," he interrupts, pressing a finger to your lips to silence you. "I am very, very interested in women."

Your heart skips. "Oh, really?"

"Yes." His voice drops lower as he removes his finger from your lips. "One woman in particular, actually." You can feel him lean closer. "And she's currently pressed up against me in a very small closet."

"Oh," is all you can manage, your brain short-circuiting as you process his words. You try to lean back slightly, but there's nowhere to go, and suddenly his face is very close to yours.

Then he asks a question you never thought Satoru Gojo would ever ask you. "Can I kiss you?"

The question is soft, almost vulnerable—so unlike the usual Satoru you know. When you don't immediately respond, too shocked to form words, his hand comes up to gently cup your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze in the darkness. "Can I kiss you?" he asks again, his thumb brushing across your lower lip.

A breathless "yes" escapes your lips before you can overthink it.

The first brush of his lips against yours is gentle, questioning, like he's afraid you might change your mind.

Then you grab his shirt and pull him closer, and gentle goes right out the window. He kisses like he's trying to prove a point, like he's been thinking about this for ages, and oh — maybe he has been.

His hands slide from your face to your waist, pulling you flush against him as he deepens the kiss. You gasp against his mouth, and he takes the opportunity to sweep his tongue against yours, drawing a small sound from your throat that makes him grip you tighter.

"Still think I'm gay?" he says against your jaw, trailing kisses down your neck that make your knees weak.

"Not sure," you tease him, even as your head tilts back to give him better access. "Might need more convincing."

You feel him smile against your neck. "More convincing, huh?"

In one fluid motion, he presses you more firmly against the wall, his body completely flush against yours. One of his hands slides into your hair while the other grips your hip, thumb stroking the strip of skin where your shirt has ridden up.

"Let me be very clear then." He punctuates each word with a kiss. "I am very—" kiss "—very—" kiss "—interested—" kiss "—in you."

His hand tightens in your hair as his tongue sweeps against yours, drawing a small whimper from your throat that makes him groan in response.

"God," he breathes against your lips, pulling back just enough to speak. "Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to do this?"

You can't form a coherent response because he's already kissing you again, harder this time, more desperate. Something falls off a nearby shelf as you shift against him, but neither of you care.

You're so lost in each other that you don't hear the warning knock. The door flies open, flooding the space with light and the sounds of party chaos.

"God, finally!" Geto's voice breaks through the stunned silence. "Do you know how long I've had to watch him pine over you?"

"Suguru, I will literally murder you," Satoru growls, but he doesn't let go of you. Instead, he leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. "Wanna leave this party?"

And oh, you do.

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or modify my work.

tags. @fayuki @starmapz @saurondriell @starlightanyaaa @sxnkuna

@cocomanga @nanamis-baker @rosso-seta @shervinss @chiyokoemilia

@janbannan

[blackpearlblast]

[ID: drawings of a golem animated by a palestinian flag painted on its forehead. it is seen: holding out its arms protectively in front of a crowd of children, the children also hold each other supportively; catching an air strike missile from the air and throwing it away or crushing it in its fist; turning its back so that a child can warm her hands by the earth oven built into its back, food in a pot is cooking on the fire and a boy holds a cup of steaming tea to his face and enjoys the aroma; clearing away rubble so a man can help up his wife who was buried underneath, she is clutching a baby to her chest; stooping down to look at a kitten a young boy is holding up to show it; and dissolving small flakes of clay from its finger into a glass of water, purifying it. end ID]

@fairuzfan asked people to create and share art for the strike. i wrote an artist statement and then set about trying to draw what i envisioned. artist statement below.

This golem is a protector that I wish I could gift to the children and adults in Gaza. The flag on its forehead is to show that love for the Palestinian people is an animating force for people fighting for a free Palestine all over the world, especially for those in Palestine who are trying to free themselves and their people. Love is the motivation for the call for a free Palestine, not hatred like people try to claim. It is very strong and fast and can catch air strikes out of midair and crush them to dust or throw them back in the direction they came from. It can lift all the rubble of a collapsed building very quickly so nobody can get trapped underneath. It has an earth oven in its back with an ever-burning flame that people can use to warm themselves and cook food and heat water to use to bathe themselves or make tea. Pieces of its clay can be crumbled up and mixed into water to make even the most brackish and unclean water pure and safe to drink.

The golem is always a bit of a tragic figure so I don't imagine it staying around forever once Palestine is free and it is no longer needed. I think it would use its great strength to help rebuild the destroyed houses, churches, schools, universities, hospitals, and mosques and then dive into the Jordan river and dissolve. It would clean the river of all pollution and make the water splash up over all the newly replanted fruit trees, causing them to grow big and strong. Its love for Palestine and its people can be tasted in the fruit they grow for generations.

I choose a specifically Jewish icon of protection because of how it feels to witness such horrors done in the supposed name of Judaism and the Jewish people. For many anti-zionist Jews, we feel like we are acting directly within the teachings of our stories and communities by opposing this genocide. It is difficult to understand how the very people and institutions who taught us these values now fight against them so fiercely. While obviously I would still oppose Israel were I not Jewish, the way I oppose Israel is directly informed by my Jewishness. I hope that someday, somehow, Judaism can bring as much joy and support to the Palestinian people as it has brought grief and destruction. That Jewish symbols used in the name of love and justice will bear more significance than the ones used in shows of hatred. Knowing the depth of the harm caused, I do not know if this is possible. But this artwork and everything I have dedicated myself to these past few months and continue to dedicate myself to in the future is born from this hope. I love you. Thank you for being on this planet with me. From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free! And it will be beautiful.

[biscuityskies]

With the impending implementation of Project 2025, I suspect that AO3 will come under fire as well. And given that it’s a US based organisation, and the US has wedged itself somehow into every possible thing, I would also suspect that this will have global impacts. I cannot be certain of it - I’m certainly not an expert on political things and Trump remains, frankly, unpredictable - but I have personally found it’s more helpful to prepare beforehand than to scramble to keep myself afloat in the midst of a crisis. Knowing how important our favourite stories are to so many of us, here’s what I suggest:

Readers, I recommend you find your favourite stories again. Go all the way back in your bookmarks. Tell the authors you appreciate them, and you love their work. I think we could all use some nice words right now. If you want to keep the story, I recommend downloading it: here’s a guide on how to do so from the AO3 FAQ. I personally have wanted to take up bookbinding for a hot second; I might print off my favourite fics for myself and figure out how to bind them. The OTW also recommends downloading your favourites - see link below.

Authors, I recommend you keep your manuscripts. Download them onto an external flash drive and save them for a rainy day four or so years from now. Even the ones you don’t like are worth keeping - I guarantee you somebody else likes them even if you don’t. (I’m speaking to myself here, too.) Project 2025 has blatantly laid out a ban of pornography, and they will take that to mean whatever they want it to; I suggest you don’t even keep your fics on a Google drive if possible it’s definitely easier to keep them all online, trust me, I know, but so does the government. Corporations do not care about you: they will sell you out to whoever is willing to pay. Remember also to turn off AI scraping wherever possible, or better yet use sites that don’t engage in that behaviour.

For further reading from people more qualified than I, here’s the OTW’s statement on what their plans are so far.

I hope I’m wrong. I honestly would love nothing more. But more importantly, we will get through this. Humanity has told stories and put blorbos in situations for literal millennia. We’ll see the other side of this.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Sanemi lashing out on his pregnant wife only to beg her for forgiveness later

Pairing: Sanemi x pregnant!reader

Word Count: 3,1k

Synopsis: Like every week, you find yourself on your way back from Shinobu's estate and your pregnancy check-up. Little did you know what horror awaits you at your own home with your husband almost killing two kids...

Warnings: Sanemi is mean in this one and I mean it, extreme hurt but also comfort in the end so don't worry, full Shinazugawa package regarding language and violence lol, not proofread because I have to leave now

Thank you sooo much for that cool request @itsmscoco and I'm sorry it took a while. I really hope you like what I came up with 🤍

You rub your minor belly. For a woman, a pregnancy should feel like a trip to heaven. After all, you are blessed with developing a child that is half you and half your husband. Oh, your beloved and surprisingly gentle husband who always makes sure that you get enough sleep, that you nutrition yourself properly. But even the wind hashira can’t do a single thing against your constant sickness and pain.

“Please try this out, (y/n). Don’t hesitate to come here again if you need something else. You really have an unfortunate pregnancy when it comes to nausea”, Shinobu comments gently while giving your belly a little massage.

“Don’t get me wrong, I am so excited about the honor of caring for a child in my own body. But honestly, I’m so glad when this pregnancy is over”, you huff while taking a deep breath in.

Please, don’t vomit all over the insect pillar who’s just trying to help. You’ve been here what feels like everyday since finding out you’re pregnant. Well, to be exact, Shinobu is the one who suggested that you might expect a child.

Because of your never-ending sickness.

“Oh, there’s nothing to get wrong at all! After all, your pregnancy is a rather difficult one. But I’m sure Shinazugawa is taking good care of you!”

“He definitely does. My husband is an angel”, you reply in an instant.

You can’t wait to go back home. Even though your sleep-drunken eyes won’t be able to stay open longer than maybe a few hours, even though you weren’t able to catch a proper glimpse at Sanemi’s part in the on-going hashira training until now, you can’t wait to go back home. Back into your estate, back into the arms of your beloved husband.

“Not quite the codename I’d use for him, but that’s just what love does, right? I will send a kakushi along with you. Otherwise, Shinazugawa might show up and threaten me”, Shinobu jokes while helping you to get up.

“Thank you for your help. Again.”

You pull the insect hashira into a deep hug. How lucky you should consider yourself for the opportunity to call Shinobu your friend, that Sanemi laid his eyes on you. Out of all the countless women around, the ones with faces like porcelain and bodies so well-formed you can’t hold a candle against every single one of them. But still, he chose you.

“Come on, (y/n). Why are you crying?”, Shinobo whispers into your ear while rubbing small circles onto your back.

“I’m just a little overwhelmed from everything I guess”, you mumble against her comforting shoulder.

Just a few months ago, you would have laughed at anyone who told you that your life would turn out like this. Of course, you’ve lost countless good friends and family members on the way and living with a suborn husband like Sanemi isn’t always easy. But somehow, the two of you always make it work.

Right?

-at the wind hashira estate-

“We are almost there. Are you feeling alright?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m just a little tired from walking, that’s all!”

Truth is, your feet hurt like hell. Shinobu reported about women who don’t even feel their baby until the second trimester. Why are your feet already swollen, your belly bloated, your guts constantly turning? And there’s still so much ahead.

“Looks like Shinazugawa-sama received a new bunch of trainees after the other corps members all landed in Kocho-sama’s hospital wing”, the kakushi next to you comments dryly.

“Was it really that bad?”

Of course you heard about the rather brutal training methods of your husband. After all, even the walls of his estate aren’t thick enough to stop every single scream from reaching your ears. But still…

“It was pretty bad. Some of the-“

Glass cracking. Screams from afar. Out of instinct, you pick up your pace until you dash towards your home, sweat now dripping from every pore. What happened? Is Sanemi alright? He wouldn’t leash out on one of his students like that. Something must have happened. A demon? No, it’s still daytime. But what is it?

“He’s back! He’s back! That cold-blooded man! Lie down and pretend that you’ve fainted!”, a blonde-haired boy screams while almost collapsing onto the floor.

“What are you talking about? What’s going on here?”, you press out.

Your lungs threaten to fail you, breath already tasting like pure iron.

Until your eyes find Genya.

Your guts twist and turn in every direction, almost force you to vomit all over the place. Genya shouldn’t be here. Out of all people, it shouldn’t be him. And who’s the boy next to him. That familiar scar, you’ve seen that boy before. Is it possible that…

“Kamado Tanjiro”, you breathe out.

Maybe that is even worse.

Your eyes dart around the area without an aim. Where’s Sanemi? Did he find them already? They need to leave before he finds out that they’re here, carry on with another hashira training.

“Please stop now!”, Tanjiro suddenly shouts while stretching out his arm in defence.

An uneasy feeling crawls up your spine, the dark claws of sickening foreshadowing. All you can do is standing death still right where you are and watch in sheer horror as your husband stomps out of your estate motion.

Is that your husband you love and adore, though? You know how untamed he can get especially when getting confronted with his painful past. It was never easy for him to see Genya join the demon slayer corps or realize that his mother could have been saved like Tanjiro’s sister.

But never in your entire life have you seen him like this. The empty shell of your husband, muscles tensed to the maximum and his empty orbs directed towards the two boys in front of him.

In this very moment, you’d trust him to actually kill them.

“What are you going to do? Are you planning to kill Genya?”, Tanjiro continues passionately.

Your glossy orbs are set on your husband. Would he really do something like that? What if you witness the father of your unborn child taking the life of two other human beings? Your heart can’t take it, knees threaten to fail you.

“Hell no, I’m not going to kill him. It would be easy enough to kill him, but since it’s against the rules and all…I’m going to ruin him beyond recovery!”

Until your blurry head finally makes a decision and allows your feet to run.

Straight towards the two boys.

Straight into the firing line.

Straight into the sight of your now maniac husband.

“You won’t do any of these things, you hear me?”, you jeer at him with your new-found courage.

“(y/n)”, Genya breathes behind you.

“How dare you to talk to innocent children like that, Sanemi?”

The man in front of you furrows his eyebrows, hands clenched into tight fists while taking a step towards you.

“Get lost. Right now”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

You swallow hard, all nerves now tingling in sheer horror. This is the first and last warning, without any doubt. The look on his stone-cold face tells you more than urgently that Sanemi isn’t playing, that he doesn’t want you here.

Maybe it’s best if you go back inside and pretend that nothing happened. He himself said that he won’t kill them, after all…

“I’m not leaving”, you bite back.

But that would mean leaving Genya alone. That would mean giving up all of your principles.

“Will you act out like this towards our child as well?”, you continue while growing bigger and bigger in front of the two boys.

He might be your husband, the love of your life. That doesn’t mean you’ll always have to do what he tells you, tough. Instinctively, you clench your hands into tight fists with your glossy eyes almost piercing through him. Enough is enough.

“If our child acts as dumb as you do, I sure as hell will!”

Oh.

Your heart drops to the floor when a nauseous wave of agony hits you with full force. Sanemi is and has always been a hot-headed man who never thought twice about the things he said. But never, not even once in your entire relationship he insulted you.

Until now.

“Is this really how you feel about me? We should support each other, you should listen to me as well as-“

“Spare me with that bullshit, (y/n)”, Sanemi spits at you.

“Get.out.of.the.way. Can’t you hear me?”

It’s like you stop living for a moment. All this time, you did your best to understand him and his grief. Everything Sanemi does comes with a logical reason behind it, even though it’s hard to see from time to time. But lashing out at you like that?

“Stop being so disrespectful to me right now. I am your wife-“

“Right now, you’re my problem”, he jeers back.

“And now get off my sight and let me finish this real quick-“

You don’t know what made you act the way you just did. Was it his cruel behaviour, the way his words cut through your heart like a thousand knives? Before your husband is even able to finish his sentence, your palm races towards his cheek with full force.

The world around you goes silent, frightful gazes glued onto you while you can’t stop your tears from falling anymore.

“Is this how you’re acting around your pregnant wife by now, how you’ll treat innocent children? If that’s the live you chose, I’m not a part of it anymore”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

Suddenly, the urge to get as far away from him as possible becomes unbearable. Your feet start sprinting towards the estate on your own, carry you into your now so empty-feeling bedroom.

And finally, you allow yourself to break down and cry.

Is this really the man you love, that you’d give your life for? Your shaky fingers caress your belly mindlessly.

You can’t stay here. Not when Sanemi showed you a completely different face today. Not when this place doesn’t feel like home anymore.

-a few hours later-

“Fuck!”, Sanemi cries out on top of his lungs while dashing towards Obanai over and over.

Why can’t he get your stupid words out of his mind? The way you stood there with tears in your eyes, how he was literally able to hear your heart crack when those damned words left his mouth. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, to drag you into the fuckery with his little brother and that Kamado boy.

But why did he say all those dumb things, then?

“You seem off, Shinazugawa”, Obanai comments dryly, hitting the wind hashira with full force again.

“I guess I fucked up”, Sanemi mumbles.

What if you won’t forgive him for today? Your last words haunt him since the moment you left him standing in the rain.

“I bet you can talk your way out of it-“

“Hell nah. I don’t think she wants to see me tonight.”

“Did you ask her, though?”

“Who the hell do you think you are anyway? You’re the one to talk, not able to confess your feelings to Mitsuri”, Sanemi barks at the man next to him.

“But yeah, maybe I should get going…”

Coming home never fuelled him with so much fright. What if you’re still angry at him, if you refuse to even talk to him? Or even worse, what if you’ll really leave him?

Sanemi’s guts turn in an instant, feet now picking up their pace with every step. He can’t lose you. Not you, the light of his life. Not when you are the only ray of sunshine in this rotting hell. What the hell did he do? The fact that he even raised his voice at you is unforgivable.

Finally, his fingers grab the door that leads to your shared bedroom, finally he’s able to make up for his mistakes of today-

His eyes widen in sheer horror.

You’re gone.

Right there where your head should rest, there’s absolutely nothing.

Panic starts rising up his chest, forces his heart down his throat.

Did you leave?

He yanks out of your shared room, eyes roaming around each and every corner of your estate. But you aren’t there. You aren’t here.

“My lady is at the love hashira’s estate.”

Sanemi darts up immediately, greeted by the oh so familiar voice of your personal crow.

“Is she fine, why did she-“

“With all due respect, I suggest you to control yourself before making any more insensitive comments to my lady-“

“Who the hell do you even think you are you-“

“Your earlier spoken words really troubled her and my lady certainly does not deserve that.”

Without another word, your crow disappears into the darkness of night again.

Sanemi swallows hard. Fuck, did he really hurt you that badly? He never wanted you to feel bad, never wanted to hurt you. Damn, he only wanted to show Genya and that Kamado boy their places. It shouldn’t have hit you. Out of all people, why did he have to hurt you?

“I need to tell her”, he mumbles under his breath before dashing towards the love hashira estate.

-at Mitsuri’s-

“I can’t believe Shinazugawa said something like this to you, (y/n)! You are super far away from being dumb, after all! Here, eat another pancake and stay as long as you want.”, Mitsuri babbles while handing you another plate.

Your dry eyes are barely able to stay open any longer. All the grief, explaining, fighting and crying did apparently really wear you out. Good for you Mitsuri’s estate is near by and you just know she’ll always open her arms for you.

“Thank you so much for taking me in, Kanroji. I really don’t deserve your kindness”, you sniffle.

“You have to be joking, (y/n)! It’s my duty as your friend to be there for you anytime you need me! And also, I-”

Three violent knocks on Mitsuri’s wooden door almost send you over the edge. It’s past after midnight, the time closer to the morning than evening. Who would knock on Mitsuri’s door this late at night?

“Do you think that’s a demon?”, you mutter in horror, both pairs of eyes set on the door.

“I don’t think so. Let’s see!”

Before you’re able to stop Mitsuri, she rips open the door.

And reveals no other than your husband.

“Sanemi”, you breathe out.

Tears start swelling up your eyes in an instant when a flood of memories crushes you all over again. Just a few hours ago, your husband made very clear that he doesn��t want to see you again anytime soon. How did he find out that you’re here?

“(y/n), can we…have a talk?”, he mumbles with icy voice.

“Do you want to leave me?”, you blurt out.

“What?”

Is that really how you feel, what you think of him? That he’ll turn his back on you after a fight? He did say all those nasty things to you, though.

“I think I’m going out and…cook!”, Mitsuri announces while sprinting out of the door, leaving you alone in the room with all that tension and him.

Him, the man you love more than anything else in this world. And also him, who broke your heart like he never did before.

“You have to be kidding me”, Sanemi mutters under his breath.

You turn away before you lose your composure completely.

“Why are you here, Sanemi?”

“Do you really think I’m here to dump you!? You, my pregnant wife!? You can’t be fucking serious about that!”

In the matter of seconds, you find yourself surrounded by his usual so comforting arms that now hurt like daggers against your skin.

“Please, let me go, I can’t do this ri-“

“(y/n), please.”

His suffocated voice forces your eyes to dart upwards.

Instantly, your heart drops to the floor.

Is this really your husband, crying against your shoulder while pressing your body against his?

“I’m sorry for all the shit I’ve said, I’m sorry for making you feel this way. I’d never leave you, not when I’m even lucky for calling you mine. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this, I just…I just can’t stand them…”

“Sanemi…”

“And I get that I don’t deserve you and that I’m a jerk for hurting you. I know you could’ve had every man you wanted-“

“Sanemi!”, you snap at him, holding onto his face tightly.

“But you’re the one I want”, you finally cry out.

“But your words hurt me. Is this really how you feel about me? Do you really think I’m a burden?”

“I was out of my fucking mind for saying that to you! You’re my blessing, my everything, the sunshine in this rotting hell. You’re…You’re my wife, right?”

That innocent look on his now tear-soaked face runs shivers down your spine, reminds you that even though he acted out today, this man is still the Sanemi Shinazugawa you fell in love with years ago.

“I am your wife”, you press out before a new wave of tears haunts you down.

“I’m so sorry, (y/n). So so sorry”, he mutters again and again while kissing every tear away that escapes your eyes.

“And I’ll never talk to you like that again, I promise.”

“Will you promise to not treat Tanjiro and Genya like that ever again too?”

Sanemi shifts his weight underneath you, his orbs growing hard again. Was this too much to ask for? No. Even though you love Sanemi’s rough side as well, he simply can’t do something like this again. Not when you’re his wife, not when you are expecting his first very own child.

“I will. But only if these jerks leave me alone”, he grumbles before giving you a passionate kiss.

“That might be manageable. I want to go home now…”

“No problem, I’ll carry you-“

“You really don’t have to carry me-“

“Oh, but I sure as hell will.”

“HAVE A GOOD NIGHT YOU TWO! AND DON’T ACT LIKE A JERK AGAIN, SHINAZUGAWA!”

“Did you have to tell her everything?”

“She’s my friend, Sanemi. Of course I had to.”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @laurencrsnt

[kisses4reid]

criminally hot | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

summary - you get wrongfully accused by a sheriff, and it isn’t you who’s angriest. it’s your boyfriend who has to expose your relationship in order to clear you.

genre - spencer x bau!fem!reader, fluff, slight angst if u squint, angry reid x calm reader

wc - 1.2k

warnings - reader uses she/her pronouns, handcuffs, violence, a weird white man i know id be fucking scared as well, oh swearing as well.

a/n - i love u you’re so awkward i am doing so well bc of ur request, keep requesting things your brain is crazy. ummm anyways this is my first time writing this kinda thing omg how exciting okay start reading it wtf you still doing here?

request - ( from @babyoureahauntedhouse ) omg hii!!! :3 this is my first time requesting, so please excuse the awkwardness 😭😭😭😭 first of all, how are you????? i hope you’re doing amazing!!! absolutely no pressure, but can you do one where reader gets falsely arrested (not a huge thing, maybe in a police station at a small town or something) and spencer absolutely **loses** his shit at how she’s being treated????? like, she’s freezing and the sheriff or somethjng keeps pushing her and then he just bursts into the interrogation room and uncuffs her and it’s just very fluffy???? thank you!

Emily handed you your coffee with a smile, receiving a small thank you in return. It was warm in your hands and created a comforting contrast to the cool chill of the police precinct you were set up in.

Things were going well given that you’d only been in the small town for half a day. The team debriefed on the plane, but Aaron had been on the phone with the leading detective for at least an hour now asking him where he was.

Emily headed off to the restrooms when a slender hand made its way to your waist. You turned and felt your cheeks heat, knowing exactly who is was.

“Hi Spencer.”

“Hi Y/n.” His eyes held sweetness in the chocolate swirls, and you felt like a kid who had been given candy. Spencer and you had been dating for a few months, but somehow in a team of profilers you both kept things under wraps, even with Spencer’s clumsy touches and your lingering stares. “I wish we were home,” he whispered.

You glanced around for anyone who could witness your interaction and get suspicious, but you were mostly alone other than Hotch and some officers who were weirdly taking a lot of attention to you.

“Yeah me too. I’m feeling oddly popular and not in the good way.”

Before you could talk more or offer him a sip of your coffee (even if you know he doesn’t like it), Aaron calls his name and the slim tall boy scurries away with a straight face.

You turn to find something to do. To reread a case, to help someone fill out papers, to talk to Morgan or Garcia. You would’ve opted to huddling in your cardigan if a tall man didn’t interrupt.

“Y/n L/n?” He asked in monotone. His arms were at his sides, one hovering above a pair of cuffs that hung from his police belt. Furrowing your eyebrows you answered,

“Yes? What’s wrong?”

“You’re under arrest for the robberies of…”

His voice pounded into the background of your head, thoughts attacking your eyes through a sudden headache as the words registered before you could help it. The room was silent except for the man’s voice, yet all you could hear was the furrow of eyebrows and quick approach of your boss, Aaron Hotchner.

“What’s going on here?”

“Your agent has been seen…”

You stood still as another officer came behind you and forced handcuffs onto your arms, gripping your wrists with unnecessary force that would surely leave bruises. You winced and looked between your boss and the officer, and then at Spencer, who was being pulled back by Morgan. He yelled your name in worry, witnessing the hardened grips on your body and rough pushing you were being subject to. Your coffee splattered on the ground, staining your white shoes.

There was only mumbles and white noise, as your eyes met with Spencer’s. The large officer behind you kicked your leg to get you moving, the shock glueing your shoes to the rubbery floor. And you almost didn’t even notice the hand on the back of your neck pushing you towards a dark room with a desk and two chairs.

You were so familiar with these rooms and yet it felt so different.

Of course, you didn’t actually do anything. And of course you attempt to clear that up to the officers who are slamming their hands on the table and screaming as much as they could, in a poor attempt to intimidate you.

Aaron was in the corner with a scolding face and hard hand to his chin, observing the situation with an intensity you barely ever see.

“Last month, you were seen at one of the houses that got robbed over night. You left a few days later, after also being seen at two of the other houses-“

“So she was seen at three of the ten houses robbed and you arrest her?” Aaron spoke up, bringing the men’s attention to your boss instead of you. You took the opportunity to look outside of the window.

Though it wasn’t clear, you could make out the outline of a tall boy you wished would just break into the room and save you.

And he did.

“Your evidence is illogical and childish. She’s an FBI agent for gods sake-“

“Anybody can be a suspect Agent Hotchner, even federal agents.” The tall one replied with a stubborn mumbled.

Suddenly, the door was slammed open and you were met with a disheveled Spencer panting with a red and severe face. He didn’t even bother looking at you before he starting schooling the men in blue, who at that point were glaring at him and attempting to look more intimidating than they actually were.

“I’ve read your files on this case and nothing links to Y/n L/n, not one-“

“There’s no way you read our-“

“I can read more in a minute than you can in a day, dickhead. Y/n was meeting old school friends when she was in town, we went to the Diner Inn afterwards and we met with her parents who have receipts for the meals because they’re-“ he turned his glance at you,” “sorry Y/n- they’re hoarders. You have nothing against her other than some positively reported visits and some photos of her hugging the house owners.” Spencer had slowly pinned the officers to the opposite wall unconsciously. It was hot. “I was there, I’m her receipt. And like her parents, she loves keeping those. So if you want to insist she’s your culprit, go for it. But your going against a man with eidetic memory and a lot of evidence.”

And while he was logical and correct, he was also a little too truthful.

The officers blinked in fear. Spencer definitely didn’t seem the type to yell or swear, so this clear, concise and undermining approach to the situation was somehow even scarier.

“Spencer,” you began, “thank you.”

He looked at you, his expression softening into empathy and care, “Of course.” His hands found a key in his back pocket as he approached you, starting to promptly uncuff you.

As Aaron continued to speak with the officers of their major mistake, Spencer took you outside of the room and into a private office. Your heart was racing, but it seemed Spencer was more stressed than you. He paced as you leaned onto the front of a wooden desk, hands over your chest as your eyes trailed Spencer.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I should’ve reacted faster, then you wouldn’t have been..” He stopped closely in front of you, his breath hot on yours as his gaze scoured over your body for injuries or bruises. “Are you okay?”

You smile calmly, “I’m fine. My leg hurts, and I think my wrists will be bruised, but I’m fine.”

He took your hands and rubbed his thumbs on your wrists carefully, causing butterflies to explode in your stomach.

“Thank you Spencer.” Your eyes dance with each others. “You were really hot. Maybe I need to get arrested more often.” You joke with a lift to your voice and a smirk, causing him to look down with a smile and shake his head.

“If being angry makes me hot maybe you should reevaluate what you-“

Your lips found his, you hand going to his bicep and his going to the back of your neck, before a clearing of the throat took you both out of your trances. It was Hotch.

“I’ve got some paperwork you both need to sign. About the arrest and,” his hand waved between you two, “this.”

Morgan stood behind Aaron with a smirk, leaving quickly to go tell Garcia that she had lost their bet.

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