#no one besides a person getting laid on the daily

[auroralwriting]

wait for your love

spencer reid x fem!liaison!reader

after joining the bau eight months ago, you and spencer quickly became close. too close, to be just friends, that is.

word count: 2k

warnings: comfort and fluff, no use of y/n, mutual pining, (un)reciprocated feelings, spencer's love-blind, he only likes your touch, vague hints at spencer's autism, playful flirting

Spencer Reid was all you'd ever wanted. He was a sweet, smart, charming, a gentleman. He understood your thoughts and feelings. He made time for you, and actually, the two of you spent a great deal of time together on a daily basis. It was rare you'd go more than two days without seeing the resident genius.

You were even the rare exception to his physical touch boundaries-- he couldn't keep his hands off of you. Holding your hand or interlocking your pinkies was a common form of touch you shared. Hugs, cuddling, and sharing beds wasn't uncommon, either. Usually on cases, you roomed together, even if you had separate rooms. You were Spencer Reid's solace, even more so-- simply his person.

The only issue? He was just your best friend.

For as close as the two of you were, no, you weren't dating. No, you had no clue how he felt about you. Sometimes it felt like he reciprocated your feelings, but then he'd go and call you something like his best friend. So, maybe he didn't reciprocate the feelings. But that was fine, you were still in his life and he was in yours. That was all that mattered, right?

You barreled into Spencer's hotel room the moment he opened the door from your rapid knocks.

Spencer watched as you flopped face-first on his bed with a chuckle, "Hello to you, too." He walked over to where you laid, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Can you guys please profile this douche any quicker?" You groaned into his pillow, the whine of your voice making Spencer smile. "I'm seriously done with the press on this one. I cannot take another call from stupid Heather Young."

"Who's Heather Young?" Spencer asked as you flipped yourself over quickly, sitting up to face him.

Begrudgingly, you pointed to the small TV that sat in front of his bed. "She's some nosey, obsessive, and pestering news reporter who wants the full coverage story on this case." You sighed. Heather Young truly was testing every limit you had. Her phone calls boarded on stalker, at least one an hour, if not more. You'd tried to block her number, but she found another phone to use. "She won't leave me alone. I swear, Spence, every hour this woman calls!"

Spencer knew all too well the struggles of being a liaison, and this was one of them. Dealing with obnoxious reporters and pestering questions would frustrate him to no end. That's why he admired you so much, for your tolerance and patience.

Your phone rang, and you groaned, turning back over and letting yourself fall face-first back into Spencer’s pillow. He chuckled, grabbing your phone and shutting it off so you wouldn’t receive any more calls for the night. “See? Problem solved,”

“Until six a.m when she calls me trying to get an inside scoop,” your muffled voice whined.

“You’re so grumpy,” Spencer chuckled, leaning on his arm beside you. “Come on, don’t let some stupid news reporter get you like this.”

Maybe if you'd looked closer, harder, you would've noticed the adoration in the genius's eyes. However, you just rolled your eyes and scoffed at his words. "M not grumpy,"

Spencer chuckled, poking your side teasingly. "You definitely are," He chuckled at the way you squeaked, shooting upward at the ticklish sensation.

"Spence!"

"If I were to look up the definition for grumpy, your name would be its definition." Spencer continued to softly poke at your ribs and sides, causing giggles to spew from your lips like an endless waterfall. It was music to Spencer's ears.

"Spencer!" You tried to whine, but it came out as laughter instead.

After a minute or so of his relentless attack, Spencer eased. "See? Not so grumpy anymore. I just know the grumpy cure."

"Tickling me is not a cure," You argued, crossing your arms as you sat criss-crossed in front of him. When Spencer went to reach forward, you sucked in a breath, "Okay, okay! Consider me cured!"

Spencer just chuckled at your words. "Admit it, you were grumpy. I could tell based on the way you threw yourself onto my bed." Spencer joked. He wasn't wrong. His hand, instead of poking, found its way to your side, but it gently caressed you in a sweet motion.

With another roll of your eyes, you smiled, letting Spencer know wordlessly he was right. His touch was soft and comforting. Spencer's touch, no matter how it's given, was the cure.

The moment was broken when your phone buzzed, a text from JJ lighting up your screen. For a moment, ignoring it was a highly considerable option, until you realized you were still on a case, and it could be important.

"Who's that?" Spencer asked, looking over your shoulder as you grabbed your phone from his bedside table.

"JJ," You simply stated.

Where are you? The text read.

With Spence, need anything?

Why can't you ever stay in your own rooms, SMH!! Wanted to see if you're ready to give the profile tomorrow?

You chuckled at her text, As ready as I'll ever be

KK, I won't bother you two lovebirds anymore! Enjoy Spencer time!!!

Spencer grinned at the texts. "You don't think she's going to read into that, do you?"

"She already does," You shrugged, setting your phone back down. "The whole team always asks, 'When are you and Spencer getting together?,' 'When are you finally gonna date?,' blah, blah, blah."

With an eyebrow now raised, Spencer felt himself become surprised at your response. While he speculated there was some sort of, well, suspicion about the two of you, he was never on the receiving end of any of it. Apparently, that's because you were. "How many people have asked about us? Just the team?"

"Just them," You paused, considering his question. "Wait, you don't know about this?"

Spencer became more confused at your tone, "No, I don't."

"They think we're madly in love or something," you chuckled, trying to hide your true feelings, "talking about our future little genius-liaison babies."

The genius's mind became scattered, flooded with images of the two of you that his mind created in a moments notice. Children, marriage, love. It felt so surreal picturing you, yet so right. "Did you ever deny it?"

"For the first few months," You confirmed with a solid nod. "I just don't really entertain it anymore. I don't see them stopping anytime soon."

Spencer nodded, clearing his throat. "You haven't let them think it's true though, right?"

"Why?" You asked, his words confusing you. "Is there some sort of problem being with me?"

You felt defensive at his words. Maybe this was his way of telling you the feelings aren't reciprocated. Maybe, all along, you were playing the fool. This stupid, silly little mistake of a crush was mere moments from destroying your closest friendship. You wished you could swallow this whole conversation down like bad medicine and pretend it never happened.

Spencer paused for a moment, your question making his heart drop. "Why would you ask me that?" He softly asked.

"Just--" You sighed, turning over to lay on your side that faced away from him. As much as this sucked, you couldn't see yourself leaving him, either. "forget about it, Spence."

You were upset now, that much was apparent. Spencer couldn't tell if it was about the team, or his response. He wasn't good at talking to girls, let alone about romance. Spencer softly laid on his side, wrapping his arm around your middle and trying to gently pull you into him.

"Spence, it's really fine, just--" You knew this play. You knew he was going to give you the softest affection to try and get you to open up.

"It's not fine, you're upset." Spencer observed, a gentle firmness behind his voice. He hated it when you closed in on yourself.

Adamant about not moving, Spencer realized his efforts were useless; you weren't going to budge. So, he scooted closer until front was pressed against your back, practically spooning you. When your body went rigid against his, Spencer felt disappointment seep into his heart. You always melted into him. Ever so softly, Spencer let his free hand come up and begin to massage your scalp, slowly playing with your hair ever so often.

Like memory, your body began to relax into his, just the way he wanted it to. Of course, it was against your better judgement, but soft moments with Spencer Reid was what you lived for.

Spencer smiled against your shoulder, his efforts weren't so fruitless after all. "You're so stubborn," Spencer mumbled into your shoulder.

"M not stubborn," you muttered in reply, heat rising to your cheeks at his words.

"Yes, you are." Spencer said, giving you a small squeeze. It made you giggle in reply, making Spencer's heart thump loudly in his chest. Could you hear it, too? "You never answered me before,"

You hummed, "Hmm?"

Spencer said your name slowly, a growl of a warning. He needed to fix whatever happened. There was no way he was going to let you stay upset at him.

"I asked you that because.." you hesitated. "I don't know. would there be a problem being with me?"

At your soft words, Spencer realized what had happened. He'd been a fool and insulted you. How could he ever do such a thing? "Of course there wouldn't be a problem being with you," he breathed softly into your ear.

"Then.." you paused, "then why aren't we, I don't know, together?" You rolled over to face him. "I mean, we do this," Your hands waved in the air, motioning to your current position with the genius. "We're always together. We even sleep over! Even the team asks me why we aren't together and--"

Spencer felt shock flood his system at your confession. Did this mean what he thought it meant? Was he reading this right?

"Just, why? Is it me?"

Taking a deep breath, Spencer choked down his fears. "I've been.. scared."

"Scared?" Your desperation morphed into one of curiosity and confusion at his words.

"Scared," Spencer confirmed softly. "I didn't know how you felt. I didn't know if you even wanted this.. us,"

Humor slowly filled the situation. Maybe you'd both been fools, but not in the way you'd originally thought. "Do you really think I cuddle with all my best friends?"

Spencer raised a brow at your words. Yeah, he felt unbelievably stupid. How could he not have seen it before? "No, I suppose not." He meekly replied, a small smile growing on his lips. "Does that mean you-you really want to be my girlfriend?"

A chuckle escaped your lips, "Spencer Reid, you ought to know better than to assume. Don't you know what that makes you?"

He smiled in return, rephrasing his question. "You want to be my girlfriend."

"I do," you smiled.

"I want to be your boyfriend," Spencer replied with a now wide grin on his face.

You felt your heart skip a beat, "I want that, too."

"Do you want to be my girlfriend?" Spencer asked, the question feeling like one of a middle-school boy. Nothing else felt right to say, though. Nothing felt as sweet and innocent as this moment did.

A finger patted your chin as you faked deep thought. "I don't know, it's a lot to consider."

Spencer let out a small laugh, propping himself up. He moved over top of you, his weight now on his forearms as you stared up at him. "Oh, really now?"

"Yeah, being tied down is a lot, you know?"

He leaned down closer to you, so close you could feel the tip of his nose grazing your own. "Tied down," he chuckled with amusement.

"That begs your question; should I be your girlfriend?"

"I say yes," Spencer said, his lips mere centimeters from your own.

Staring down at his lips, you whisper, "I say yes, too."

Like a moment of explosion, your lips meshed perfectly with Spencer's. It felt like everything you'd dreamt of thus far. Poor Spencer, he was in absolute bliss. He felt like he'd been waiting this day his whole life and another. It was magic, heaven, and unbridled passion.

"Stay here tonight?" Spencer whispered as he pulled back, lips tingling with the feeling of you.

"Always," you smiled, pulling him in for another kiss.

[loganhowlettshousewife]

something something dark!logan who puts reader in dangerous situations so he can save her and then convince her that no one is safe and he’s the only one she can trust. is it bad that i find the thought of logan baby trapping me hot?

(this is not proofread, i wrote this in like 30 minutes)

-

the first time he sees you, something primal unlocks in him. you’re suddenly the only thing he can think about, your sweet smile taking over his dreams. he wants you in a way he’s never wanted anything before, willing to do anything you ask of him, willing to kill anyone who so much as looks at you the wrong way.

every time he sees your smile drop he’s filled with a murderous rage. 

but when he’s around you, the world slows down. there’s only you and him and the tension between you. your friends tell you that he’s dangerous, he’s angry and drunk all the time, but you just stare at them in confusion because he’s never so much as raised his voice at you.

so you wave off your friends worries, telling them that he’s an absolute sweetheart and maybe he just has a bad reputation, but you know him.

he invites you to go to a bar with him and you agree enthusiastically. you love spending time with him, and this is sounding almost like a date. you get all dolled-up for him, hopeful that something in your relationship will shift tonight. 

you agreed to meet at the bar, so you wait outside the building for logan, bouncing on the balls of your feet. that’s when a man approaches you, big and burly and asking what you’re doing all dressed up and alone. he drags you into the alley beside the bar, but before anything can happen, the man is being thrown into the wall.

logan stabs the guy in the chest with his claws, letting the blood run down his hand. because while he was the one who paid the guy to do this to you, he still couldn’t stand the sight of another man’s hands on you. so he brings his fist down again, claws puncturing the man’s lungs. and again and again and again, until you have to pull him off the bloody corpse.

the minute his eyes meet yours, it's like he becomes a completely new person. he drives you home, a hand on your thigh. he holds you close when you cry in his arms, whispering that he’s so sorry he wasn’t there to protect you, that he should have offered to drive you, that he should have known someone would try to hurt you, because you’re beautiful and pure and the world is a wretched place that wants to destroy souls like yours.

you start dating and logan becomes even more protective and jealous. now that he knows what it's like to have you, he’ll do anything to keep you.

so he stages dangerous situations, manipulates you into falling right into the traps he’s laid out, and every time he comes to rescue you. he’s the hero of your story, and you tell him that, laying with your head on his chest one night.

but he still doesn’t feel like it's enough. the animal in him longs to call you his, to claim you permanently. to mate with you, to breed you. 

so he convinces you to move in with him, something that’s pretty easy after he hires someone to break into your apartment. he observes your routines, memorises your little daily schedules, and when you’re in the shower he switches out your birth control pills for placebo ones.

when he fucks you it’s hard and rough. it’s the only time he lets himself be something other than gentle with you, because he knows how much you love it, can smell your arousal growing with every thrust, can feel how wet you are around him. you cry out his name, grasping desperately at his arms, shoulders, back, anywhere you can reach really, for some sort of support.

you’re so out of it that you don’t notice when he cums deep inside you instead of pulling out like you’d asked. he keeps fucking his cum into you, pushing it deeper. when the afterglow of your orgasm fades and you feel his cum leaking out of you, you freak out, pushing him off you.

but he asks, “aren’t you on birth control?” and after a long conversation he convinces you that it’ll be fine, that’s what birth control is for, and besides, doesn’t it feel better raw? don’t you love the feeling of his thick cum shooting inside you, coating your insides, claiming you?

you’re terrified when you find out you're pregnant, and logan acts just as shocked, as if he couldn’t smell when you were ovulating and hadn’t planned to breed you as many times as he could during that period to make sure it stuck. 

he tells you that no matter what he’ll be by your side, that he’s never really thought about settling down and being a family man but that he’s never felt for anyone what he feels for you, and the thought of having a child with you, someone that’s half your dna and half his, your love for each other in a physical form, sounds wonderful.

and then one day, after your daughter is born, as you’re watching logan holding her in his large arms, you admit that you knew he was borderline stalking you before you two started dating, and you knew after the third time that the men attacking you were being hired to do so, and you knew when he switched out your birth control.

and you confess to him that no one’s ever really loved you the way logan does, completely and unconditionally, and even if logan’s a little unhinged and obsessive about making sure you won’t leave him, you appreciate that quality. because he wouldn’t go through all that effort and all that trouble if he didn’t care about you.

logan, who thought it was impossible to love you any more than he already did, feels himself fall in love all over again at that confession.

[moonsaver]

wheover that anon was that spoke up about mr reca I LOVE U WE SHOULD KISS

ALSO YESSS IRIS FAM MEMBER! READER WHOS AN ACTRESS/ACTOR!!! just imagine being THE mr. reca’s favorite thespian he’s ever worked with oh my gosh im drooling rn 😍🥰😋🔥😜

Yes anon!! Very real of the other anon. And of you.

This is yandere, so tw

Iris!Reader who's an actress/actor would smash. Imagine despite your humble beginnings and barely being able to keep your family afloat you make it. Although perhaps our beloved actor/actress doesn't quite fit the beauty standard, or they haven't made their debut in a popular film, or maybe they just aren't what most movies are focused on right now, considering the disparity between an actor's range and the genres they might partake in.

Here comes Mr. Reca, swooping you from who knows where, plopping you down into a makeup chair and reading the script to you at 50 words/sec speed. You have no idea where you are or what's going on before you're pushed onto the movie set, completely winded before Mr. Reca throws his hands up all "oh alright! Since you can't get the hang of this yet, I'll lend you a hand" or whatever excuse he loves to pull out of his ass. He personally guides you with the movie scripts, drags you along to any parties he may have to attend, forces you "into the filming sphere" or whatever by "exposure". You could be sleeping and he'd blast into your personal residence at 4 in the morning, and drag you along. He probably even forces you to sit down and listen to all his ideas and brainstorming sessions.

The more time you spend with him, the more sense he eventually makes. It's strange, and you almost end up questioning if you might be going insane. But you brush it off, because you realise he's been caring to you. Unlike most directors, he does care for his cast. He does provide a hospitable atmosphere to work with, which makes you realise just why your co-stars are so eager to please him. Mr. Reca, although insane and hard to decipher, makes you almost gravitate towards him when his eccentricities are laid bare before you.

Every time your short contract ends, he's already got the next one printed out and ready for you to sign. You appear so often beside him, it's unusual for you not to. Often, you make headlines with Mr. Reca backing you up. It's all in the palm of his hands when he gets you to stardom.

Oh, but isn't it a bit too much?

Nosy paparazzi that continually stalk and harass you, fans or even those that despise you call you or your family, people surrounding your home just to get a glimpse of your daily life, drivers who follow your car everywhere.. it's a bit too much for your pretty little head to handle. Mr. Reca is all too familiar with these pests. Why don't you stand closer and let him deal with them? Nevermind the fact he paid them, or that he's been rather eager to practice method acting with you.

Speaking of, he's replaced all your co-stars whenever it comes to suggestive or intimate scenes, considering himself as their stand-in since, well.. You're more comfortable with him, aren't you? You've been under his wing for so long, it's easier for you to do these uncomfortable scenes with him, instead of those no good actors.

You're not sure when it happens, but you notice the amount of cast dwindling until it's you and him, all alone. The movies are beautiful, but it's hard to hide the shivering by just pure acting skills when you realise no one has you in their grasp as much as Mr. Reca. His eager, insane eyes watching you like a rabid animal hidden behind a camera when you act all alone on a solitary set. This is the last time he allows the privilege of your visage on the lens, before you mysteriously go missing. You are meant for only the lens of his observant eyes, he states, as though confessing a haunting realisation.

Oh well, you can continue acting. Just remember your audience. It's only him you have to consider pleasing.

[the-oblivious-writer]

Poison Ivy & Daisies

Clarisse La Rue x Demi-god!Reader

One-shot

Summary: Clarisse La Rue has been on your mind since the day you saw her, but because of your nervousness and her stand-offish attitude, you could never build up the courage to actually talk to her. At least, that was until you tripped on a rock

Warning(s): Swearing, mentions of r being clumsy, no pronouns used, & nervous/awkward!r

Notes: This is my first work for Clarisse. I'm still getting used to writing for her character, lemme know what you think

From the moment you stepped into camp, your mind has been plagued with thoughts of Clarisse La Rue—literally. The first time you saw her you thought you were looking at a princess. The person who was showing you around immediately warned you as soon as they noticed your longing stares.

You were then informed about Clairsse’s more… violent ways. You could care less. All you knew was that she was the most beautiful woman you have ever laid your eyes upon—but of course, you didn’t get the courage to talk to her until two months after you got to camp.

She was definitely stand-offish, that was evident. It wasn’t until you accidentally bumped into her that you finally spoke to her.

You were walking, not paying attention, when you suddenly tripped on a rock. You yelped as you tripped, but instead of meeting the ground like you expected, you bumped into someone. This person stumbled back a step before glaring at you, a glare so deadly you could feel it. 

Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest when you caught sight of the person. Clarisse fucking La Rue. Just your luck. You gulped as you looked back at her. You opened your mouth to say something, but the sound failed to come out. 

“Watch where you’re going,” the Ares kid seethed with her fists balled up.

“R–right. Sorry, I didn’t see you,” you nervously apologized.

“Don’t let it happen again, or else,” she threatened before walking off. You were too busy wiping dirt off of your shirt to see Clarisse looking back at you one more time as she walked away.

The incident continuously haunted you. You finally get a chance to talk to your crush, and that is how it happens? 

The next time you saw her face to face was the following week. You were practicing your sword fighting when suddenly somebody approached the dummy near yours. You didn’t think much of it as you continued to focus on your swinging and slashing. 

“That’s my dummy,” you heard from beside you. You look over to see it was Clarisse who you heard. Any bit of confidence you had before instantly vanished.

“Your dummy?”

“Did I stutter?”

“Um, no—no you didn’t. I just—I just didn’t know.”

“And your slashing is pathetic,” Clarisse added before pushing you to the side. “You’re supposed to cross then stab. Not the other way around.” She rolled her eyes before demonstrating for you. After she showed you, she looked over to you again. “Are you just going to stand there? Repeat what I did.” 

You weren’t sure how, but from that point on you started going to daily practices with Clarisse. You’re still a little confused on the specifics. One moment, she seems repulsed by you, but the next, she was training you. She never outwardly said it, but daily training with Clarisse automatically became apart of both her and your routines. You weren’t complaining. 

—

Months and months of training led to this moment; capture the flag. You were surprised when Clarisse told you she wanted you on her team, usually people wanted the opposite. It didn’t take much convincing to get Annabeth on board. You couldn’t blame her; it’s not that you were bad at fighting, you just had the tendency to be clumsy at the worst times. 

Your job was simple—stick by Clarisse’s side. You missed the looks Clarisse’s half-siblings gave her when she revealed this part of the plan, and the glare she sent their way. 

You and Clarisse were crouched behind a tree, waiting for the right moment to act. While Clarisse’s eyes were busy surveilling the area, you were too busy admiring her in her armor. How could you not? It wasn’t until you felt something hit your chest armor, that you were pulled out of your trance. 

You looked down, startled, and saw that it was Clarisse who hit your chest armor. “Stay focused.” She said as she continued to look around.

“Right. Focused.” You cleared your throat, eyes following to where the other girl was staring. “You look really nice by the way. The armor suits you,” you complimented. You had no idea where the spur of confidence came from. All you knew was that Clarisse was gorgeous, and you hoped she knew it too.

The compliment caught her off guard. She had no idea as to why you said what you did, frankly it confused her. But before she could utter a word, she saw her teammates signal to her. Guess her response would have to wait.

—

After the incident—that being Percy breaking Clarisse’s spear, and then him being claimed by one of the big three—everybody made sure to steer clear of Clarisse. The scream she let out was a reminder of why. It has been awhile since anybody has seen her that enraged. The only person to not follow this unspoken rule was you. You knew enough to know how important that spear is to her, so you could imagine how infuriated, and upset she was to see it rip in half. 

You went to knock on her cabin’s door, but pulled your hand away when you noticed it was already open. You lightly pushed it open more before walking inside. Everybody else was gone, and it seemed like Clarisse was too until you caught sight of her sitting on the edge of her bed with both halves of her spear on her lap. She didn’t need to look up to see that it was you who walked in. 

“What are you doing here?” She inquired, not looking up from her broken spear. 

“I just wanted to check on you,” you responded in a painfully soft tone. 

“I’m fine.” Her tone was dry and monotone. You carefully got closer before sitting down beside her, and to your dismay, she didn’t tell you to go away. You watched as her thumb brushed against her spear’s handle. 

“Do you wanna talk about–”

“I don’t need your pity, nor your comfort,” Clarisse interrupted. 

“Right, sorry,” you responded as you nodded your head. You suddenly remembered what was in your back pocket. “Oh, I uh,” you pulled out a daisy from your back pocket. “I saw it and I just thought of you,” you shrugged as you held it for her to see.

“A daisy.” The flower's stem was a slightly bent, the pedals were a mess, yet it was still beautiful.

“Yeah—if it’s stupid I could just–”

“No!” Clarisse said louder than intended. She cleared her throat, “It’s fine, I mean.” Butterflies erupted in her stomach as she watched a smile graze your face. 

“Here,” your smile never faltered as you handed it to her. As she went to take it from your hand, her hand touched yours. The action caused heat to rush to the other's face.

“Thank you.” She averted her gaze, looking down at the daisy you handed her. “It’s… nice, I guess,” she uttered as she continued to study the flower.

“You welcome,” you replied as you looked at her admirably. “Sorry if it’s a bit messed up. It’s been in my back pocket for, like, a day.”

“It’s perfect.” Her words catch you off guard, a warm familiar feeling rushes through you—the same feeling you get when you think of the woman. 

“Perfect flower for a perfect girl,” you said with such fondness in your voice. Now it was your turn to catch Clarisse off guard with your words. She pulls her eyes away from the daisy to look at you. Nobody has ever called her perfect before, and she knew you meant it. 

Her eyes flickered down to your lips, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by you. It was just then that you realized how close your face was to hers. You both subconsciously begin to slowly lean in; “Can I kiss you?” You murmured. Instead of giving you a verbal response, her hand reaches up to softly cup your face before she leans in further. Her lips touches yours, sending electricity down your spine. Her lips were soft and welcoming as you kissed her back. 

But before the kiss could go any further, the cabin doors abruptly opened. Your lips tear away from hers as you both look over to see who was at the door. Of course, the person who happened to catch you and Clarisse kissing was an Aphrodite kid. You looked away with flushed cheeks while Clarisse tried as hard as she could to hide her embarrassed expression.

“What do you want?” She asked impatiently, her arms crossed.

With a smirk, the other camper responded. “I need Y/N’s help with something.” 

“Coming,” you managed to say. You got up to follow the camper, but not before looking back at Clarisse with a lovestruck expression. Clarisse could feel her heartbeat pick up as you made eye contact. When you left, she let out a sigh as she brushed back her hair.

No doubt this would be the talk of the camp by dinner. But for once, Clarisse didn’t mind.

-----------

A/N: Dior is actually so painfully gorgeous omg

[bwabys-scenarios]

NSFW

He was your loyal, attentive knight. You had been childhood friends, ever since you saved him after sneaking out of the palace walls. Since then, he had been training so one day, he could take care of you.

At first, he saw you as what you were, the princess he was meant to serve. You were intelligent, beautiful, and most importantly you were kind. Your people loved you, and you loved them.

And you loved him too, a fact you would share daily throughout your childhoods. When he started training to be a knight at the young age of 10, you were always there to bandage him up and let him lay his head in your lap after a tough day. You were both children, but he clung to you like a child would his mother. He was often scolded by the maids and senior knights for his clingy behavior. You were the princess and he was getting too old to be staying so close.

He would be a teenager soon, which meant the days of childhood innocence and days of fun spent with his princess would be over. Once she turned 13, she wouldn’t be able to interact with any males besides her personal knight.

He worked his way up the chain, seeing you in secret when he could manage. You missed him, and as the years passed by his innocent, platonic love was starting to shift into something more… lustful. He caught himself staring when you bent over to pick up your fallen books, his eyes following your plump hips as you walked away.

No, he couldn’t see you that way. It was against his code of conduct, his knightly duty was to protect you and your innocence so that you could find a suitable husband one day and bear an heir to the throne.

But at knight, when he laid along in his chambers, he would stroke his hardened cock to the thought of filling you with his seed, claiming you both body and soul. It was a nasty, sinful thought he had to keep to himself, he knew that.

It was hard though, when you were just so tempting.

It took him 6 years to become your own personal knight. You were 19 years old now, marrying age. He held you to his chest as you sobbed at night with the knowledge that you would have to marry someone you didn’t love.

He tried his best to comfort you and push away his feelings of love and lust, but god did it get difficult when you begged him to help you escape. He should have refused and reported your urge to flee to the king… but he didn’t.

“I’ll help you escape, but… I need to ask you a question first.”

You nodded, clinging to him desperately as his hands ran over your hair. “My princess, you… cry as if you are already in love. Could I know the person who has won your heart?”

It hurt him to ask this, making his own heart wrench painfully. You nodded, sniffling slightly as you look up him through tear filled eyes, your cheeks warm. “Yes… it’s you. I love you, I have for years… being apart from you has been so hard… please, I don’t want to marry anyone else but y-“

Before you could finish your sentence, he had already pinned you down, his lips pressing into yours. That was all he needed to hear, he would be claiming you for his own now, and as soon as he was done he’d be stealing you away.

“Mine… my princess, my everything…”

He spent the night worshipping your body, making sure you knew just how much he truly loved you. He fucked into you, his finger rubbing soft, attentive circles into your needy clit. It didn’t take long for him to fill your womb with his seed, making you his and his alone for all eternity.

He had deflowered his princess, taking her virginity and her innocence, the exact opposite of what a knight was supposed to do, but he didn’t care anymore. You were his princess, yes, but you were also his first and only love.

And he would never let you go.

————————

||GOJO ||GETO || NANAMI ||CHOSO ||KURAPIKA ||LEORIO ||CHROLLO ||ARMIN ||EREN ||JEAN ||REINER ||RENGOKU ||GIYUU ||OBANAI ||SANEMI ||YOUR FAV ||

[nouearth]

blue current.

clark kent x male reader headcanons.

warnings: fluff, co-workers at the daily planet, maws!clark, soft!clark, intern!reader.

a/n: it's been a hot minute since i've written anything! i feel so bad because i've been swamped with school, so hopefully this will hold you guys over until i post my next fic! it's not much, but i've been feeling fluffy as of recent, and clark is the perfect candidate, HAHA. idk, i've been feeing low-key creatively stuck for writing, so hopefully this well get me out of the slump!

—clark was smitten from the moment he first laid eyes on you.

—it had only been the fourth month into his internship, but it was no secret that the higher-ups, and even his colleagues, have been impressed by clark's rapid growth.

—it was enough to ensure their trust in clark to train the new intern as the lead journalist had taken a month off for vacation. while he had his doubts if he would do a good job, clark always loved challenging himself.

—his mother had always reminded him: one who feared failure will never achieve greatness.

—sure, you weren't being mentored by the best journalist in the city. though, you had to admit that you felt defeated since miss lane was the only reason why you chose the daily planet over other internships.

—but bitterness turned to throat-drying, cheek-flushing, and hand-flexing sweetness when you came in your first day and met the man who would be training you.

—for clark, it was the drowsiness in your gaze that suddenly brightened when he met your eyes. if he could have seen his own face, clark would reckon that his eyes lit up the same way yours did upon meeting you for the first time.

—he's so... handsome. maybe training him wouldn't be so bad after all...

—his blue eyes sucked you in like heavy ocean current, but instead of fighting back the pull like any sane person would, you allowed him to drown you in the gorgeous wash his gaze doted on you with.

—god, are you toying with me right now? have you finally come around to my reckless behavior back in high school? i knew you always would!

—it began with a handshake. when clark's large hand cupped into yours, a current of sparks flickered from the bone of your knuckles to his own, and you both released with a gasp.

—"sorry! it must be my vest or something—has a lot of... cotton, i think—" clark assured with a laugh, but cursed his lame excuse in between breaths.

—"no, you're fine! i guess your sweater vest knew i was half-asleep, huh?" you laughed with him, and almost as if it was choreographed, you reached back to rub at your nape when he does, and the discomfort left the collective laughter in a fleeting dance.

—"well, lucky for you, our first stop is the break room! i'll show you how to make a poor man's mocha if you get sick of the coffee here!"

—from then on, you two had quickly become close friends.

—where clark would teach you more hacks to spice up an ordinary roast of coffee, you would return the favor by surprising him on random days with lunch that you prepared the night before.

—on nights where you were too tired to function, you simply settled for sandwiches and prepared an extra meal for clark.

—whether he claimed he forgot his lunch, or was too busy to even take a glance at his lunchbox; eating lunch had become a rarity for him.

—unless it was with you.

—even before opening the brown paper bag, clark knew it was going to be delicious.

—you always remembered what ingredients he liked and disliked since the first time you had lunch with him.

—clark smiled to himself as he ate the meal you didn't have to prepare for him in big bites.

—and then laughed when you watched in amazement and mirrored him like a parrot with messy bites.

—somehow, the thought of cared for was more filling than the actual meal.

—in moments where clark suddenly felt guilt for liking you as more than a friend, he sat silently, staring blankly ahead, with the tissue crumpled in his hands.

—and you sat beside him on the bench, compelled by his silence, while the birds watched from their home of oak and birch.

—it had been happening more frequently: clark's sudden mood shift. no matter how much he tried to deny it, how much he attempted to pacify your silent worries with his handsome smile, it was clear that something was bothering him.

—at first, you tried to break him with a joke.

—"geez, was my sandwich that bad?! i guess i shouldn't have used that expired mustard..."

—you've studied clark enough to anticipate a half-hearted chuckle from him; weak, but still had the intention to please. to masquerade his thoughts.

—instead, the birds chirped in his absence, and your frown only deepened as clark maintained a fixed gaze to the pavement.

—"clark?" you nudged him once on the arm, and he immediately dropped his head in between his legs with a heavy sigh.

—"what's wrong?"

—"there'ssomethingigottatellyou..." he muttered into the crook of his elbow, and your brows knitted together in worry, despite your amusement at the fact that he was behaving similarly to a puppy throwing a tantrum.

—"huh? didn't quite catch that when your mouth is full of linen." you gently nudged him once more to vacant the space between his legs, then another with a gentler squeeze to his arm when he doesn't.

—"clark, come on. talk to me." you squeezed harder to the sound of his groans. "people are staring—"

—then another squeeze.

—"there's something..."

—and another.

—"i gotta tell you..."

—and before you could alert him once more, clark returned the pressure into your own palm when he suddenly took your hand into his, and held it as if it was a pirate's lost treasure.

—the warmth of your skin compelled him to sit back up, but he refused to look at you. instead, he gazed every perimeter that didn't involve your eyes.

—the birds again, the sky, the trees, anything to drown out the sight of potential rejection.

—but how you wished he would turn to you right now, because you smiled. wide enough to sting the apple of your cheeks, and as much as you wanted to yell out his name for him to do so, you wanted to let clark do it for himself.

—to take upon the challenge of potentially meeting failure or success.

—heat crept onto his cheeks as he stared at a couple who were charmed by chubby ducks floating on the nearby lake. for a brief moment, he could see you two walking hand-in-hand, while the other free hand threw feed at the eager ducks.

—he was lost in his imagination. a blink turned into a dream, and a dream turned into a desperate paradise.

—it wasn't until the trail of your hand that looped your fingers into his, tightly sharing the warmth of anxiousness with a sticky clamp, that clark opened his eyes again and finally turned to you.

—wet eyes and shaking blues, they told a story that you didn't need to read into.

—silence filled the space between the two of you, then groaned in annoyance when you scooted closer until your knee was pressed to clark's. you folded his hand into yours, still clutching onto him tightly, and laid the joined affection on your lap.

—"i like you too, smallville." your thumb ran several laps over his knuckles to calm the tremors clark had possessed.

—he watched, open-mouthed as if he was about to respond, but the shock trapped the remainder of his words within his throat.

—you lounged back and squinted at the radiance of the sun, the brights of the sky.

—"(m/n)..."

—the sunlight faded into the background as the beauty of your best friend came into frame once again. he absorbed all the color and light of the world until your focus was on him.

—"i really like you."

—the sigh on his lips told a different tale compared to the previous exhales. it curled his lips upwards and finally pacified the shakes that had been bothering clark for months.

—when he pressed his palm back into yours, folding his fingers over your own, you braced for impact as you felt the electrical current from the first day you met him return in stronger pulses. it nipped at your skin, then at clark's, in its desperate escape.

—but clark held tighter, as did you, until the shockwaves melted in his skin, into his veins, then into his blood, and became one with the victorious cheer of his heart.

© nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like! feedback is also much appreciated!

[bones4thecats]

When They Protect Their S/O From Harm

Type of Writing: #6 - Poll Result Characters: Izana Kurokawa, Kakucho, Ran Haitani, and Rindou Haitani Name: When They Protect Their S/O From Harm Original Poll Link: Here

A/N: This was fun to write, ngl!

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🎴 Izana is a possessive person by heart, since he has lost so many people in his life, he doesn't want to ever feel that same pain again, and he made that very clear the day you started your relationship

🎴 And while he does trust you with his life, he was not amused by the newest recruit of his gang

🎴 Kakucho had informed his friend that the new member was seemingly acting very out of sorts and was getting far to close to you, asking you questions that were mainly about the gang

🎴 Ever since then, he has had the Four Heavenly Kings watch over the guy, just to make sure he wasn't attempting to cross a boundary

🎴 But, when the man jumped out from the gang during a confrontation between a fairly new and dangerous one, he wasn't surprised

🎴 What did surprise him was how he was so bold with his actions, not caring who he was hitting, he even lunged and began to attack Ran and Rindou without someone beside him

🎴 He definitely had balls

🎴 Izana gritted his teeth in a smile as the numerous members fell by his hits, the only reason his smile faltered was when he saw how he lunged after you with his fist raised

🎴 His eyes darkened as he sprinted away from his intended hit and kicked the guy with full force into a nearby wall, growling lowly as he noticed a long knife, one similar to a butcher's fell from his jacket

" If you ever try harming my S/O again, I'll kill you so painfully that you'd rather have your organs torn out by a vulture's pointed beak. "

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🍂 He trusted you with his life and his jealousy level never was sky-rocketing like his friend, Izana's

🍂 Despite that information, Kakucho was getting nervous with how a new member of Tenjiku was acting around you, and he was trying to keep it not super obvious

🍂 You were speaking to the young male near daily, and he could tell that he wanted something more than an ally or friend in you

🍂 Watching as he just wrapped an arm around your waist in a hug, he clenched his fists, providing amusement to Ran and Rindou, who were prodding at his jealousy

🍂 He could tell you were getting uncomfortable with how touchy he was with you, and he was attempting to let the guy down nicely with his words

" Excuse me, would you take a hand off my S/O. You're making them uncomfortable. "

🍂 Kakucho watched as the guy's eyes widened as the yells of Rindou's entered the base, and Kakucho knew what he was yelling, there was a rival gang invading

🍂 He glared as the man took out a blade and held it to your neck, yelling on how he was gonna slit your throat like a pig and let you die unless they let him go

🍂 Izana ran up behind Kakucho and laid a hand on his shoulder, giving him a nod as he readied himself for battle

🍂 Your boyfriend began to walk around the guy as Izana lunged, making the man holding you hostage back away and hold his blade up to attack

🍂 Thankfully, Kakucho ran around and kicked the guy from behind as Izana caught you from falling, saying how Kakucho would be back and the guy would be thoroughly punished while the rest of the gang handled his

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🐈‍⬛ Due to his stance in many different areas of the delinquent-life, Ran has made quite a few enemies in the past few years, and he swore he would keep them far away from you

🐈‍⬛ But, Izana had banned him from trying to unleash fights inside of Tenjiku, pushing his anger to be further enlarged as he saw the guy playfully mess with you

🐈‍⬛ That was his job, not his

🐈‍⬛ As his anger grew, he could tell you were getting suspicious of the man, since his questions were drifting to more of your boyfriend and you than the gang or any upcoming fights

🐈‍⬛ When the man revealed himself to be working for a rival gang, due to the constant pressure from Hanma, you ran behind your boyfriend, to make sure the guy couldn't grab you

🐈‍⬛ But, unfortunately, while Ran was handling him, another member of the guy had snuck behind you and began to chock you out

🐈‍⬛ Turning around and not finding you standing there, dodging attacks was something that Ran did not expect, so, when he saw the guy holding you down and obviously saying things only he should be saying to you got him pissed beyond belief

🐈‍⬛ He grabbed his baton from his side and swung it so hard the guy was knocked out and bleeding from one shot and one shot alone

" Nobody touches my S/O in that way or even talks to them in that way other than me. And if anyone else has a problem with that, come at me bastards. "

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🐈 Rindou, much like many different characters in Tokyo Revengers, is protective over his S/O

🐈 And while he understands they can defend their-selves to a specific amount, he cannot help but think the worst of what could happen

🐈 Unfortunately, this happened because of a certain traitor in Tenjiku, and that situation ended up with one person possibly on the brink of death

🐈 Your boyfriend was arguing with his twin, which was quite common, and you just chuckled as they argued like two teenage girls, since Ran had decided to tick off Rindou for fun

🐈 He was busy dealing with Ran when Kakucho announced from the entrance to even look around for you, he expected you were ready to fight, like always

🐈 Sadly, he was completely wrong...

🐈 He had heard a loud slam and he turned around to kick someone back when he saw your body, completely unconscious with blood lightly coming out of your head

🐈 Anger consumed him as he noticed Ran launched him forward alongside him, and he understood he knew exactly what he was going to do

🐈 Ran held his baton up as Rindou pinned the guy down in a lock, his famous locking the man's joints and eventually putting enough pressure in to break his limbs while his twin began to beat him senseless with the metal poll

🐈 The man yelled in pain as Rindou let go and kicked the already broken leg of the male's deeper into the ground, and he ran to your body, carrying you in a bridal pose and brought you to a safe area

🐈 Ran could hold his ground for a little while

[straystarr]

From the Start; lmh

in which you end up getting partnered with the bad boy but it turns into something meaningful. (Somewhat strangers, to friends)

a little soft, a little boring, but comforting (at least I hope)

Blank minds were accompanied by bored expressions and still your professor ignored the dull atmosphere as her words drowned before reaching your ears. Philosophy of sex and love — while immersive in its contents and literature, it was oddly scheduled in the evening of the day. Naturally, you were drained, ready to crawl into bed and sleep the day away. Showing no interest was not your intention, in contrast, this had to be your favourite class of your crammed university schedule. Your days were filled with due dates after due dates. Exam after exam. One long lecture to another. Life was repetitive at the moment. And one can only enjoy the repetition  for so long.

You couldn’t help but allow your pen to draw minimal doodles onto the loose leaf sitting in front of you, anything to keep you sane. It was obvious you weren’t the only numb soul as the room seemed to be suffocating due to cumulative body heat and exaggerated exhaustion.

You were pulled away from your pointless observations, the door to the class swinging open, disrupting the scattered peace in the room as heads lifted at the sudden noise. Your eyes caught a glimpse of his dark clothed figure before you swiftly turned your head back towards your notebook, already anticipating the reactions around you. 

If it were any other late student, every person in the room would have nonchalantly returned to their business, carefree of the lives outside of their own. Instead, waves of whispers brewed as he confidently made his way towards his designated seat, which happened to be right beside your own.

He gave no attention to the soft chaos his presence ignited, but his plain eyes glared at anyone who daringly gazed for more than expected.

Something about Lee Minho always had people on the edge of their seats. Whether it be the countless rumours surrounding his reputation or the way he detached himself from any social setting. 

You never understood it really, the way people obsessed over him. He was popular, for all the wrong reasons. It was either romanticising his ‘cold’ personality or scowling at his existence. How he became known as the bad boy will always remain ridiculous to you. 

Some claim he spends his nights at clubs, some say his personality speaks for itself, others believe only people involved in illicit activity would stain their skin so “excessively”, thrown off by the tattoos visible when his arms were out in the open. Stereotype after stereotype was all it was. You found most of these reasons to be baseless, filled with the flaws of people's own beliefs and values. 

Sure, he wasn’t the friendliest person, but that doesn’t justify the shit he received on a daily basis. Even if what people said was true, what did it have to do with them? He was just living his life. And still, people managed to bury him six feet under. 

He never seemed bothered by the distaste he received, rather amused, a smirk flourishing on his lips with every new story created in his name. Even when all eyes were on him or when assumptions about his life were brought about in conversations, he always stuck to himself, never talking to anyone, a facade of oblivion hanging above his head. 

The only people you’ve ever seen welcomed into his own little world were his group of friends, specifically, Han Jisung and Bang Chan. But even then, he remained conserved, only giving small reactions in contrast to their big personalities. You always wondered how they got along. Jisung was known to be a social butterfly on campus, always waving, always laughing, a person one can’t help but be drawn to. One time, he mistook you for someone else and gave you a back hug, spending the next five minutes on his knees profusely apologizing for touching you. Chan was more laid back, but he enjoyed the company of other people. He always lightened the mood with his cheerful and calm persona.

Their relationship took the concept ‘opposites attract’ and played it into reality. It was comforting knowing such a friendship existed in a complex world. 

“Can I borrow a pen?” The request came from your right, somewhat hidden in your professor's speech about Vrangalova’s association of love and commitment to sex. You met eyes with him, face stoic and reserved, expectant of your generosity. It wasn’t the first time he had asked you for a pen, and it wouldn’t be the last time you held one towards him. “Thanks.” He muttered, eyes already gone from your sight. You smiled in response, even if he couldn’t see it. It was moments like this that solidified your liking towards him. 

In a way, you cared for Minho, watching from the sidelines, stealing little glances whenever he was in the room or catching yourself frowning every time his name was carelessly thrown around. It’s not that you had a crush on him, or that you pitied him, but it’s the same way you get concerned when you see a friend stumble. You flinch as you imagine their potential pain. You hope they're ok. And then you move on with your life. It is possible, and it does happen — caring for someone you know nothing about. The same way you can hate someone you know nothing about. 

You sucked in your bottom lip as your pen tapped a rhythm onto the table. His body became clearer in your peripheral, bringing the rhythm to a pause. His thigh slightly brushed against yours, sinking into the chair with his body shifting into a comfortable position. And like clockwork, the wave of gossip diminished as time passed by, and your eyes only continued to fall, forcing you to use all your energy to keep them open. 

“I’ll be ending the lecture early. But I am assigning a group paper since it seems as though you all would not be able to complete one on your own, judging from the lack of enthusiasm. To make things simple, your partner will be whoever is sitting to your right. All you need to do is research……” Her voice echoed into the air as you hesitantly moved your head to the right. Your eyebrows trailed up in surprise due to the set of eyes already directed at you. 

Minho raised his hand to his cheek, resting against his fingers as he cocked his head to the side. “Y/n, right?” An unconscious smile bloomed upon hearing your name, to which he straightened his posture. Your smile threw him off. He could always guess a person's intentions by their smile. It’s either genuine, or it’s not.  And he almost always received the latter. But with you, that wasn’t the case. He found himself fascinated at how quickly the smile came and left. It was an authentic reaction.  

It was new to him. And he simply didn’t know how to react.

“You know my name?” 

“I’ve been stealing your pens for a whole semester. How can I not?”

He was talking more than he was used to. What should have been a yes or no answer turned into an invitation to continue the conversation. And he again, didn’t know why. The side of your lips dropped at the sudden coldness glazing over his face but you thought nothing of it as you nodded and began to pack your things. “We should start the project tomorrow, are you available?” Standing, you twisted your head to look at him once again to which he just nodded before pushing himself off from his seat. 

Your fingers curled under your notebook, instinctively tightening your hold to no avail as he seized it from your hands. A sound of confusion choked from the back of your throat, prompting the questioning look you sent him as he began to write something down. Bringing his head up, he processed your stare, an unexpected wave of caution flooding his system as he placed the notebook back in your hands.

“My address.” The awkwardness he displayed was fresh compared to the certainty he previously held in his actions. “Unless you’d like to work on campus, I just assumed you wouldn’t since everyone is camping out here with the semester coming to an end—” Your shoulders vibrated from the amused giggle in your throat.

He was rambling, and you quite enjoyed it.

His nostrils flared upon hearing your stifled tune. It was odd, he found himself trying his best to ignore the urge to smile along with you. It was barely a success as he patiently waited for you to speak, a hand coming to rub his warm ear. “Maybe we can head to your place together after class tomorrow?” You advised, bag already over your shoulder and coat hanging from your arm, you were eager to leave. But the quick interaction with the stranger who always had your attention lined your thoughts amidst the fatigue. “Yeah— yeah, that works.” He said with a curt nod. Twisting in place, your hand flew in the air, fingers waving ever so slightly.  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

His lips fell apart, watching as you marched your way out of the room. He couldn’t read your mind, but he so badly wanted to. Because the many questions swarming in his head just about drove him crazy. You were weird. At least in the sense that he didn’t mind your presence. He didn’t mind how easy going you were or how you made him conscious of himself. He didn’t mind that you laughed at him or how he so easily talked to you. You intrigued him. You had ever since you were paired to sit together. And it scared him. He always wanted to talk to you — really talk to you, none of this pen borrowing bullshit he settled for even when his pencil case lay untouched in his bag. 

And now that he has, your voice echoed in his head like a soft melody, to which he paused the tune, frightened to dance along to the beat. 

“Are you feeling any better?” 

“I think so.” He managed to moan out. 

You turned your head away from the screen of your computer, waist twisting in place as you caught ahold of his weary eyes, soon widening at the sudden eye contact. It was a few hours after class had ended. You weren’t really keeping track. But you were constantly checking up on the boy who lay on the couch you leaned on.

“You sound like shit. And you still look like shit.” Your observation fell on deaf ears, your eyes blurred against the rays of the white screen staring back at you. “I’m fine.” He sniffled, buried in the blankets you had wrapped around him with care.

And to think a few hours ago, you were frustrated with him, having travelled from University to an unknown area with the only hope that the address messily written in your notebook would lead you to Minho. The frustration grew with each second you loitered in the apartment's hallway. You didn’t want to assume anything when Minho never showed up for class. So you took it upon yourself to find out what was going on.

And there you stood, a deep sigh collapsing along with your eyes as your knuckles came in contact with the door one last time. Pulling your hand away, you clicked your tongue against the top of your mouth, analyzing the options you had left. God seemed to take pity on you as the door swung open, sending you staggering backwards, hand over your chest with your eyes now wide open. 

Although his face was barely visible with the hood that covered his head, his feline eyes peeked through the fringes of his hair naturally covering his forehead. The scowl on Minho's face melted upon recognizing your startled figure. Tucking his hands into the pockets of his grey sweatpants, his body fell onto the doorframe. He was very much surprised with your visit, but his blank stare intimidated you into thinking your efforts may have gone to waste. 

Guilt crawled into his skin, unsure whether to explain himself or let you assume what you wanted. He would usually give less than a fuck, but with you — with you, he didn’t know what to do. A sigh of relief was given as you felt somewhat reassured by Minho’s presence. 

Readjusting the bag hanging over your shoulder, you paused as you felt the reassurance being replaced with confusion. You were ready to bombard him with the questions clouding your mind. Why wasn’t he at school? Did he expect you to finish everything yourself? Did he really not give a shit? Did he not like you? 

But the wandering questions were easily dismissed upon noticing the way Minho couldn’t seem to hold himself up, continuously leaning against the door frame. It wasn’t until frail sniffles came from the boy in front of you, his head tossed to the side as if to silence himself. It was then you noticed how his cheeks were painted in a harsh shade of pink, the way he tried to softly clear his throat, the shadows under his eyes. 

“I couldn’t go to school today and I didn’t know how to contact you—”

“You look like shit.”

The statement shot through his already weak state, but he wasn’t offended. Instead, a loose chuckle caressed his tongue as you smiled in return. You began to rock on your feet, unaware of what to do or say. Minho observed your actions, carefully stepping aside as his hand pointed towards the inside of his home. He didn’t approve of what he was doing, but he didn’t necessarily oppose it either. He was just as lost as you were.

Your body failed to move, eyes blinking while you began to comprehend his gestures. “What? You didn’t come here just to check up on me.” Dropping his hand to the side of his body, Minho raised an eyebrow, eyes glazing over the words that barely made their way out of your mouth.  “I think you should use this time to try to get better, I’ll just finish the project—“ “I can’t let you complete it by yourself.”

Your eyes fixated on the back of his head as he trudged into his home, leaving you to gawk at his figure, hesitation confronting you as you consciously entered through the door frame that separated you from the outside world. Minho watched as you observed the surroundings. It was nothing like you’d imagine, but also seemed to fit him very well.

The living room consisted of a brown leather couch and a circular glass table. Nothing seemed out of place, every decoration he had with a purpose. “Why hello there.” You crouched down, hands fluffing the cat that arrived at your feet. You directed your gaze to Minho. “I didn’t take you for a cat dad.” Minho picked up the cat at your feet before placing him on a cat tree tucked away in the corner of the room that you failed to notice. “I have three.” He managed to say. 

Nodding in awe, you set your bag down onto the wooden floor in front of the table, your body sinking as your jeans hit the cold ground. Burrowing his eyebrows, Minho gazed at you with curious eyes. “You can sit on the couch?” You lifted your head as you set your laptop on the table, a smile growing on your face while your hands strung your hair into a loose bun.  “I prefer the floor.” Your causality ignited a comfortable atmosphere to which he found himself drawn to. His feet carried him towards the couch behind you as he slumped onto it, his sick body hindering him from acting any further. The simple fact that you spit out about yourself traced through his mind, unknowingly settling in the depths of his memory. 

“You can rest for now, I’ll let you know when I need your help.” Your focus was directed towards the screen of your laptop, completely oblivious to the boy whose lips were ever so slightly curved into a smirk. “That’s not how it’s supposed to work.” A string of coughs followed his response, much to his dismay. “Yeah well, we have underlying circumstances so just listen and I don’t know, heal?” There it was again. That light tune that so easily infiltrated his thoughts. The sarcasm laced in your voice only humoured the smirk on his face, somehow guiding it to curve into a light smile as he continued to stare at the back of your head. 

How odd it was for him — for him to do as he pleased, not having to shelter himself into the colourless character he lived. How odd it was for him to lie there on a random Friday, a mere stranger on his living room floor as he tried to get some sleep. Well, at least he knew your name. He liked your name. And he was so at ease with the person linked to the name. “Why did you want to work here?” Your question halted his thoughts. “I don’t like public places.” He said with eyes closed. You absently nodded, fingers typing away. “Why don’t you like public places?” He remained quiet for longer than anticipated. “I don’t really like people.”

Silence corrupted the air, bringing your chest to slowly rise in contrast to its previous pattern. 

Your eyes soon landed on his face, as your head twisted in place, focus no longer directed towards the gleaming screen of your computer. It occurred to you that the line of questioning was heavy, too heavy and you were in no position to ask him such heavy questions. Especially with his weak state. Minho opened his eyes, his gaze trailed on the ceiling, avoiding your hard stare as the two of you shared the understanding that explanation was to follow. Although you were aware of the reason.

“I'm sorry.”

The apology was louder than a whisper but not quite full in tone. You inhaled, slowly turning back around as the hot air left your nose. The tapping of your fingers began again, spelling out a sentence that lacked your attention. “Why do you prefer the floor?” Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, nonchalantly resuming as your shoulders moved up and down in oblivion. “I’m not sure. I just find it more comfortable.” He hummed in acknowledgement, making an effort to rise from his place but immediately groaning while trying. 

“Now what happened in the span of a day that you went from being all healthy to barely being able to move?” You asked, still typing away on your computer. Minho sighed, embarrassed and hesitant to explain the ridiculous events that occurred the previous night. But with the way your expectant eyes gleamed in the dark room, his lips betrayed him. “Jisung made me dance in the rain last night because you apparently only live once.” His voice was barely a whisper towards the end but that only solidified the giggle shaking your body. Minho smiled, conscious of the highs and lows of your laugh and somehow harmonizing with the one coming from his sore throat.

You listened to Minho’s laugh, fully aware that this was the first time you had heard it. It was pretty and contagious. And you couldn’t help but think about how nice it would be to hear it more often. “So you’re telling me, you’ve lived every girl's dream.” Your cheeks were full with pressure from the grin on your face. Minho’s smile melted into a smirk. “Jealous much?” You nodded before standing up. “Very much so.” 

Minho found himself searching for you as you made your way out of his sight. But soon enough, you returned, a bowl in one hand while you kneeled beside him. You hesitated before laying your hand flat against his forehead, falling to his cheek. “I think you have a fever.” Minho weakly hummed, unsure what to say. So he continued to watch you dip a towel into the bowl, lifting his bangs up before placing it on his forehead. The cool material felt nice against his hot body, prompting him to close his eyes.

He felt vulnerable. He was vulnerable. Never would he allow someone so physically close to him unless it was his friends. But here you were, hand to his cheek with no ounce of refusal in his gut. You were as close as anyone could get with him, and it only took you a few hours to do so. Perhaps that’s why he continued to speak, susceptible to you in ways he couldn’t quite understand. “People let you down.” His voice was frail, but you caught his words. “It's like they’ve pieced my life together without even asking me about the details.” He didn’t need to ask whether you understood what he was referring to, because with the way your face slightly fell, he knew you weren’t immune to the rumours. 

“People suck.” You left the towel on his forehead, turning away as you settled back down in front of your computer. “We make assumptions in order to help us understand the world. Even if our assumptions are ill-mannered. What makes sense to us, protects us.” You paused, now looking at him. “I’m sorry you’re experiencing the consequences of other people’s actions.” You spoke quietly, your bottom lip slightly pushed forward.

Minho said nothing, offered no expression of regard. Instead, he cleared his throat, letting his eyes fall shut. You bit your bottom lip, unsure how to interpret his nonchalance and choosing to continue whatever you were typing. “I’d like for you to hear about them.” Your fingers lay still against your keyboard. “The details.” The breath you were holding blew past your lips, subtly. “Well, you can tell me all about them while I finish up this paper of ours.” You stated, a smile threatening to break out on your face, a low murmur of acknowledgement coming from behind you. 

��How many pages have you done?” 

“Two.” 

“How many do we need done?”

 “Twelve.” 

Minho’s eyes shot open. “I— what have you been typing this whole time, I thought you had this shit locked and loaded.” You swiftly faced him, arms crossed over your chest. “I’m sorry for being invested in our conversation.” Your tone was entirely satire and he could only groan in disbelief. You both stared at each other, your face relaxing while his lit up, smiles breaking out as laughter filled the air.

“Should we ask for an extension?” Miho forced himself up, now sitting against the couch. “I emailed her the minute I opened my computer.” You shrugged, reaching for the towel that was now lopsided on his forehead. Minho could only stare at you with wide eyes. “Why’d you stay?” You tilted your head in confusion, as if it were obvious why you had been here for the past hour or so. “I wasn't going to leave you here to rot.” His lips parted slightly. 

He had your voice paused in his mind, replaying it to familiarize himself with your tone. He liked you. This he knew. And was more than willing to accept. It was new for him to welcome someone so eagerly into his small world, but with the way you dipped the towel into the bowl of water and casually placed it back onto his forehead, he knew a new friend would do no harm and probably more good than he deserved. His soul welcomed your presence. Something he’d never come to regret.

“I’ll invite you next time.” “Next time?” You continued to pat the towel down, retracting your hand and making eye contact. Minho nodded. “When Jisung asks me to dance in the rain with him.” You blinked slowly. You didn’t think much of Minho when you first sat beside him in class, other than his obvious physical attraction, you knew nothing but his fabricated reputation. And yet, here you sat in his living room, worried and cautious over him while simultaneously laughing and enjoying his company.

You were unaware that he would soon become someone you’d think the world of, someone who’d make you laugh a little harder and feed your soul. Until then, he remained the boy who borrowed your pens, had a pretty laugh, and was sick from dancing in the rain.

“I’d like that.”

AN: A gentle or not so gentle reminder that this is written fanfiction. xoxo

𝙎𝙏RAy𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙍r★

[lau219]

Summaries for Current Kinktober Lineup

🎃🤍🔥🎃🤍🔥🎃🤍🔥🎃🤍🔥🎃🤍🔥🎃🤍

🔥🤍🎃🔥🤍🎃🔥🤍🎃🔥🤍🎃🔥🤍🎃🔥🤍

🔥 Completion of Every Inch of You — Tommy finally acts on his long-time desire for Y/N, completely surprising her and showing her that not only can the right man make sex amazing, but that a real man not only admires a woman’s curves, but thoroughly enjoys them.

🎃 Cillian Murphy x Reader — Cillian is all for charity, but not for the pointless soirées that go with it. But when the charity he’s most tied to throws a gala, he’s expected to be there. Ordinarily, he finds any theme or gimmick incredibly stupid, but this particular event’s masquerade theme means at least he can disappear among the other attendees and not be hounded. When he meets an elegant, beautiful stranger with an adventurous side, he seizes the opportunity to finally enjoy one of these events.

🤍 Jonathan Crane x Reader — Y/N has been Jonathan Crane’s research assistant for a year now, and despite his extremely stoic and clinical demeanor, she has a hopeless crush on him. But she also wants badly to impress him, and she’s constantly striving to be the ideal assistant. Little does she know that Jonathan has spent the last year carefully assessing and analyzing her, not only because he’s secretly wanted her all along, but also to learn her desires and the ins and outs of exactly how to make her fall apart for him.

🔥 Jackson Rippner x Reader — Even the bad guys have to eat, right? And the local diner is where Jackson goes for a bite at least twice a week. Of course, the beautiful yet feisty waitress who always ends up being stuck serving him has nothing to do with his frequenting there, right? Fed up with Jackson’s sexist, arrogant attitude and asshole remarks, Y/N always tries to get him out of her diner as fast as possible, despite the fact that he’s the sexiest man she’s ever laid eyes on. This toxic back and forth comes to a head when Y/N finally pushes Jackson a little too far, and he has to teach her a lesson and show her just how much of a mistake it is to test him.

🎃 Tom Buckley x Reader — How can such an insanely hot man seem to have no personality and no interests in anything other than his work? That’s the question Y/N wonders on a daily basis about Tom Buckley, her professor’s TA and colleague. But when Dr. Matheson recruits Y/N to help with a new project due to her incredibly impressive performance in class, she and Tom are suddenly spending a lot of time together outside of class. Is there more to Tom than Y/N thought? Maybe there’s a personality behind those gorgeous blue eyes after all, and perhaps Tom’s prior behavior was simply how he’s kept himself in check, and not because he hasn’t noticed this star student.

🤍 Cillian Murphy x Reader — The theater has a different energy all its own, which is why Cillian is so passionate about it, always returning when the opportunity presents itself. With the latest invitation to perform as the lead actor in a new show filled with heavy drama and romance, the actor is surprised to learn that his female co-star is very fresh, not expecting a new actress to be able to take on such weight. But besides being unbelievably impressed with her sophistication and acting abilities, Cillian also can’t stop wishing that every romantic scene between them was happening in real life. But since Y/N has followed and admired Cillian for years as she made her own way in the acting world, the fondness is definitely mutual. Not to mention the fact that she nearly melts every time he touches her. Upon the wrap of closing night, will restraint and professionalism finally give way to desire and passion?

🔥 Modern Tommy Shelby x Reader — Tommy always calls the shots; it’s the only way he knows how to operate, and that includes in the bedroom. But outside the bedroom, Y/N needs to remember that Tommy still controls her. After several busy weeks with no sex between them due to crazy schedules and commitments, Tommy decides that tonight, the foreplay is going to begin before they even make it back home. Due to her recent slip in attitude and getting sassy with Tommy, Y/N is going to quickly be reminded that she’s completely at Tommy’s mercy (or lack thereof), and he has an intimate little gift for her to remind her of just that fact.

🎃 Jonathan Crane x Reader — If there’s anything Dr. Jonathan Crane despises, it’s a whiny patient. Yes, we all have problems, trauma, and fears, but rather than complain, he believes the best treatment is addressing those fears and facing them head on. So when he has yet another draining session with Y/N, his beautiful yet whiny therapy patient, he decides that the best way to finally make progress and address her fear of pregnancy and childbirth is to do some very personal exposure therapy.

🤍 Tommy Shelby x Reader — Lingerie mood boards and Tommy head canon on exactly what seeing you in lingerie does to him, and how he responds.

🔥 Jonathan Crane x Reader — Drs. Jonathan Crane and Y/F/N Y/L/N have been colleagues for over a year now, and it’s very much a love/hate relationship. Although title-wise, they’re equals, Jonathan seems to always think he’s in charge, and he enjoys bossing Y/N around. Fed up with his attitude during their latest collaboration, Y/N decides to teach Jonathan a lesson. When he instructs her to see how patients react to a new drug, she slips it to him instead, and a shift in control occurs that Jonathan was not expecting.

🎃 Modern Tommy Shelby — It’s a particularly busy time at work for Tommy lately, and much to both he and Y/N’s dislike, he hasn’t been home much, let alone had time for any intimacy. Seeing as they typically never go more than a day without sex, Y/N is feeling very deprived for her man. When he yet again isn’t home when he promises he would be, Y/N decides that a little distraction for Tommy is needed. But she’s thrown for a loop when Tommy’s attention doesn’t stray from his work and his tolerance for cockwarming lasts much longer than she anticipated. What is she gonna do now?

🤍 Modern Tommy Shelby — If Tommy could have you walking around topless 24/7 for him, he would. Of course, he adores ALL of you, but your breasts are a distracting favorite of his. When you meet him at a fancy event being held for some of his work colleagues, he’s thrown to see you wearing a dress that shows more of your chest than he wants any other man to see. How dare you put on display his two favorite features of yours that are meant to be for his eyes only?

@nyxxie-pooh @xsweetcatastrophe @allie131313 @betty21rose @febris-amatoria

@hannibellector @fairytale07 @meister95 @alltoowellbeneaththemangotree @beastofburdenxo

@runnning-outof-time @aphroditeslover11 @galactict3a @natalie--rushman @wild-rose-35

@judig92 @cillmurphyslover @ladyvenera @karah-bear @k1ng-l3on

@ceirinen @peskybinders @fuseburner @shaddixlife @neonpurplestars89-blog

@garrison-girl-08 @devotedlyshadowytheorist @emotionalcadaver @muhahaha303 @mostly-marvel-musings

@darklydeliciousdesires @mamawiggers1980 @honeymoon8 @novashelby @wonderlanddreamer

@cardan-official @fmo166 @vastcapacity @mspookington-blog @teawonderfultea-blog1

@shopgirl6us @fkmarrycill @mrs-bond @sl-newsie @lyarr24

@cillianbabe @vervainandspritz @pkmonka @myers-meadow

[priniya]

🎥 ACTRESS’ SAVIOUR

SYNOPSIS. when doctor reid finds himself enamoured with a certain actress with bright future ahead of her, she gets kidnapped and all he wants to do is save her by any cost.

going to your father’s bureau for the first time could’ve been considered an usual experience, something that could occur on a daily basis — a daughter, stopping by her parent’s workplace to possibly drop him off breakfast he left at home.

for you, on the other hand, it was a stressful occurrence. it was one of the first times at the BAU, where agent hotchner’s been working for years. the reason behind your rare visits there was relatively simple, you weren’t aware you even had a father until you turned sixteen and your mother has passed away. it was, when the social services found out that beside her, you had other living relatives, so… instead of an orphanage, you moved to quantico. building a relationship with a man, who already had a wife and a son, and no idea that his high school relationship has resulted in a kid, was rough. but here you were, six and a half year later, nervously standing inside the elevator, hoping that nothing would go wrong.

however, it had to go, you wouldn’t be yourself if everything went smoothly. as you looked into your phone to check a notification that popped up on the screen, you were met with a person — too quickly to realise that you were bound to bump into someone. the man in front of you was holding a half–empty cup of steaming coffee that other half spilled all over his brown sweater. a flush washed over you immediately, having taken a notice of what just happened.

“i am so sorry, sir.” your nervousness reached its peak the second your eyes laid on the man in front of you. he was tall, definitely taller than you, almost towering over you, glasses were resting on the bridge of his nose as he grimaced. from the plastic plate on his chest you read his name. spencer reid.

“well, uh. it’s alright.” he muttered, walking past you to change out of his stained piece of clothing, giving you all the reasons to overthink this situation, feeding your anxieties.

the confident attitude you tried to put on was now long gone as you made it through to your father’s office. it was a struggle, because you couldn’t remember how to get there, but when you did, your cheeks flushed even more upon seeing spencer, standing next to your dad, his stained shirt nowhere to be found. “excuse me, uh–” you started, announcing your presence, earning a few curious looks. “dad, you left the breakfast at home.”

“dad?” you heared a female voice whisper, and you swore your guts to know that she looked around the room for an answer, while, unfortunately for her, being left with nothing more than a shrug. the last name on the plastic clipped onto your shirt didn’t match with their boss’, which only confused them more.

hotch cleared his throat, giving you the tiniest smile as he took the brown bag from you. “y/n, these are special agents morgan, prentiss, rossi, garcia and doctor reid. you already know jj.” he said, confusing them even more. “this is my daughter, y/n.”

“hey, i know you from somewhere.” a woman spoke out, her colorful dress catching your attention immediately. “oh my gosh, hotch why didn’t you tell me that you’re daughter is playing on the russos life? i love that show!” her words brought heat to your cheeks.

the russos life was your first bigger gig that got you a little bit of recognition in show-busines and social media. at the beginning of your small acting career, you promised yourself that you’d not go to the television, because theatre was your thing. you can’t even recall the moment when your point of view changed, maybe it was after the call from your agent suggesting you that you should take the role, because the producers were already interested. or, most likely it was when you fell in love with a role you were proposed.

you stayed in the conference room (and in the building in general) for the next few minutes. after you had left, the sweet sound of your voice was still lingering in spencer’s mind that somehow went unnoticed by the team. he was sitting at his desk, frowning over something, when the clock hit three and the decision was quickly made in his mind — go grab a sandwich or you’ll go crazy. the funniest thing for people around him (if he ever let them know) might be that he couldn’t quite grasp the reason of his interest in you. reid found his thoughts trailing off to you as he hovered over the raports he was filling out that he almost wrote your name in there. he pushed the door of a nearby cafe open, intuitively scanning the place. his eyes were all over the place until he felt someone at his back.

“shit— sir, i’m sorry, i don’t know what’s happening with me to–” you began to rumble as the man you bumped into turned to face you. your face grew redder, the second you realized it’s the same person you’d bumped into already, which only made you feel more embarrassed.

oh.

“doctor reid, i’m really sorry.” you hoped your words came off as genuine, because they were. it almost seemed like you had some sort of scheme against him that you had to bump into him whenever he’s around. “at least i didn’t have a coffee on me, right?” an awkward smile crept on your lips, trying to ease the situation.

the corners of his mouth twitched slightly as spencer was taking in your beauty. the way your eyes flickered, the way lipgloss coated your lips, the way you had your hands behind your back or the way you tilted your head to get a better view of his face. the height gap between you and spencer wasn’t a lot, but it was definitely a little troubling. “thank god, i didn’t exactly have another spare shirt on me.” his repsonse made you chuckle quietly, feeling the embarrassment wash away with each word that left his mouth.

you don’t even know how much time had passed since you started your little conversation with doctor reid. even though you were the one rambling on and on, he has asked you a few times about your job, genuinely interested in what you do on set and what is your show about. he remembered the cheap looking show lila had played in, back when the bau had her case. you told him all about the plays you partook throughout the entirety of your school year and he dumped all the facts he knew about the plays on you.

you could see yourself getting fond of his presence around you, it felt eerily comforting, which for you was strange. until you moved to your dad’s place, you had rare contact with the opposite gender outside the plays, no real father figure, no closer relationship with a guy before, you had never felt so comfortable around a man, who you just met. so… it wasn’t really strange that you ended up exchanging numbers, what could be strange (for reid’s friends) was that he was the first one to call.

he kept calling, while you kept happily responding. it grew to be some sort of your thing, almost as if each of you were one another’s happy place. whenever he got frustrated with a case, he’d call you to take things off his mind, which always went smoothly. spencer was probably the biggest fan of your endless rambling about your classes or people you found annoying during the day.

the phone calls got more and more regular with each week passed, and when you didn’t call him to say good morning one day, his conscience was going absolutely crazy, his guts telling him something was off. nevertheless, his thoughts were pushed aside as his phone rung out with a call from jj, alerting on a new case.

“NYPD asked for our assistance in a possible serial killer case.” jareau explained as she handed the case files to the rest of the team. “over the course of last few days, four females were strangled before the unsub stabbed them multiple times.” she took a long sigh. “each of the girl was around the age of twenty to twenty three, studied in the state and majored in the arts fields, lived alone, but were socially active.”

a shiver ran down spencer’s spine as he heard jennifer’s words. the victimology were too familiar to you, making the unsettling feeling come back to him. pulling out his phone from the deep of his pocket, he managed to send you a quick text, asking to call him as soon as you see his message.

but you didn’t call him back. he was thinking about you all the time they were gathering more information, but there was some that shocked the team the most. the letters craved on each of the victims’ bodies. at first it seemed… like random letters, a code maybe.

“what if it’s an anagram?”

after that, spencer wrote the letters on the board, his throat tightening when the realisation hit him. the letters could be put in as your first and last name. “hotch, uh, i– can we talk, in private?” he muttered, before leavng the room the NYPD set up for them. his hands were shaking as he paced around the room, trying to find the right words to tell hotchner about his theory.

“y/n and i have been talking lately.” spencer started. “i–i got this strange feeling today, she often texted me in the mornings, almost every day in the past few days and–and she didn’t do that today.” he took a deep breath, flattering his brown shirt. “maybe i’m biased, but i think something bad happened to her, the anagram was– it was her name, hotch.” his words were falling out of his lips almost too fast for your dad to understand.

but aaron hotchner has always been the smartest guy out there, the meaning behind spencer’s words almost immediately got to him, because once again his child was in danger, he had a feeling, when he learnt the victimology, but when spencer said those words, his suspicions were confirmed. “reid. i need you to go to her apartment, i suppose you know the address?”

fifteen minutes later, young doctor was at the door of your apartment. it wasn’t exactly the first time he was there, but it didn’t matter now, not when you could be in danger with a serial killer, looking for you. “y/n?” he knocked on the door three times, when he got no answer, he did the morgan speciality, kicking the door open.

your entire flat was quiet, completely out of place. the last time he was there, around two weeks ago, it wasn’t as neat as it was right now. you had your scripts scattered around the coffee table, pillows disheveled on the couch, dishes laying around the counter, although now, everything was clean. almost too clean. then he found it, a small piece of paper underneath a cup that you made him coffee in.

you won’t keep us apart.

he recognised the fact that your handwriting was different, even though you liked keeping your place a little more messy, often calling it ‘artist’s mess’, your handwriting was neat and precise. you didn’t write this note.

“sir? you’ve gotta take a look at that.”

the last thing you remember was walking down the street, a phone in your hand about to send a quick message to reid that you’d call him as soon as you get to your flat. it was a habit of yours, texting the young doctor to give him a notice you’d call to ramble about your day. just the thought of talking to him had given you butterflies, a thought of hearing his voice after a long day at university and on set was enough to make your day better. you were about to send the message, when a guy bumped into you with so much force you barely kept yourself on ground. before you knew it, you felt an overwhelming rush of pain, passing out soon after.

your consciousness was regained, but the place wasn’t familiar. a small room with window covered with a black fabric that didn’t let any light inside. the walls had pictures stuck all over them. pictures of you, from at least four months back. each day when you were coming back from campus, there was a photo, of you at the library, at the club with your friends, going back from school, even one that captured how you giggled at one of spencer’s facts, when he visited you.

the level of anxiety peaked, when the person who locked you up came back, a bouquet of flowers in his hands, the one you loved so dearly, the one’s your mom had always put up in vases at your house, the one you got from your manager after wrapping up the season one of the russos life. “we’re sorry.” he spoke out, his voice hoarse, cracking here and there.

“but we’re finally together, y/n/n.” he whispered, getting closer to you with each word. “no one will be able to keep us apart. we’re together, for eternity.” his hand grapped your jaw to make you look at him, his lips barely inches apart.

you could feel the overwhelming pain washing over you again, realizing that he probably stabbed you back there on the street — with that realisation, it hurt even more.

his hands were rough on your skin, almost leaving a burnt mark on your cheeks. he caressed it, trying to maintain a gentle manner, causing you to tear up. “please, let me go.” you whispered, looking at him with teary eyes. “please.” his rough, yet gentle hand slapped you across the face, attitude changing immediately.

“no.” he groaned angrily, gripping your jaw even harder than the first time. “you’re not leaving. not when we’re finally together. eternity, sun. together for eternity.” his words almost burnt into your mind.

how long were you there? days, weeks, months maybe. you couldn’t know. the lack of sun, barely any food and water was driving you crazy, nevertheless, right when he left you alone, you realized something that came up to you as a moral of reid’s story he told you about a certain case with a man obsessed with a woman. you had to play into his fantasy, no matter how it hurt and how painful it was, it was necessary to gain his trust.

and you did, played right into his delusional fantasy of you until he trusted you enough to make a mistake. leaving the door unlocked. you left in such a hurry, you couldn’t breathe. the air was suffocating, it was dark, so dark you felt scared that someone would attack you again.

“oh my, miss, are you okay? you’re bleeding.” a lady called out to you, grabbing your shoulder in a soft manner, the presence of a female soothing your nerves a little.

“i– i need to make a phone call, please, could i use your phone?” before you knew it, you were dialing one of the numbers you memorised by heart.

“doctor spencer reid, can i help you with anything?” his monotonous voice rang out in the phone, causing you to sigh in relief. “sorry?” he added. you imagined him frowning, like when he tried to teach you how to play chess and you kept giggling at how frustrated he was getting, while you pretended to not know a thing about chess.

“spence.” another escaped left your lips. “i– i don’t know where i am. i know you’re in quantico, put please help me out, there’s a guy, who—” you started rambling, your vision getting blurry.

“y/n, i know.” he whispered. “we’re in new york, garcia’s tracking your location right now, please stay on the call with me.”

“spence,” you started, holding onto the woman next to you for stability. “i– he’s done something to me, i think– i think, i might pass out.” your tone was quieter with each words, almost stuttering as you felt your limbs weakening.

your world was crushing down on you, the nearby buildings suffocating you, not letting you breathe, the stab wounds overwhelming. the next thing you knew, you were in the hospital, machinery plugged into you, your eyelids heavy as you opened them.

“you’re awake.” a familiar voice filled your eardrums as you tried propping up on the bed, stopped by the ripping pain. “hey, hey. don’t move, you’re okay.” his hand was in his, holding you so gently and tenderly you wanted to cry. it wasn’t like their unsub’s, doctor reid was genuine, the way he held your hand was almost… symbolical.

you had four stab wouds on your stomach that the man wrapped into a foil to stop you from bleeding out, but it ripped when you ran away. your face was bruised, marks left by his hands visible on your upper neck and jaw.

“you’re okay.” he repeated his words almost as if spencer tried to reassure himself that nothing would happen to you anymore. definitely not on his watch. “i won’t let him do anything to you again, i promise.” he planted a tender kiss on your hand, squeezing it softly. none of you realized that the rest of spencer’s team, including your father, was standing in the doorway, observing the little moment between you and doctor reid.

the one thing that burst your bubble was derek’s laughter, after having told a joke that obviously involved you, spencer and the fact that he was the first one you called after getting out of the unsub’s place. “looks like pretty boy stole your daughter from you, hotch.” morgan’s elbow nudged your dad’s side.

aaron wasn’t dumb, and from the very beginning, he knew that there would be something going on between the two of you. hotch knew that from the way reid’s lingered on you, when you visited the bureau. how his eyes would always slip to his phone or how he had to get away from the office to make a phone call, lasting all through his lunch break, so when four days ago he told his boss about the suspicions, it all came together.

“i know it’s early, but you have to tell us if you remember everything from those days.” your dad’s tone was soft. if he wasn’t so good at this job, you’d think he tried to make you relive the moment again, but hotch has always been great and you knew it, he wanted to catch the person who did this to you.

“it was, uh.” the words coming out of your mouth was weak, which was no surprise for anyone, since you could barely have your head up to look at the concerned faces of people in your room. “a white guy, his late twenties maybe. i don't remember much beside his hands. i thought of it as something that maybe would let you catch him.”

“what about his hands, sweetheart?” morgan asked. he was standing next to prentiss and rossi, who noted all the important things you said. “did he lack any fingers? had only one hand?"

“no, no.” you shook your head. "spencer told me that, um, most of the sophisticated killers have smooth hands. his weren’t smooth at all. it was rough, like if he was working since he was a kid.” images were flashing through your mind at the speed of light. nevertheless, it didn't feel enough. “it looked like he was in the middle of psychotic break or was off meds, he kept using plural pronouns like if there was another person, but he was alone the whole time i was there.”

when the interview was done, jj stayed behind to talk to you a little. her facial expression revealing that she was interested in your friendship with the young doctor from her team. “so… spencer told you?” she lifted her eyebrows, sitting on the edge of your hospital bed.

“yeah…” your reply sounded a little sheepish. “i kind of ran into him twice, when i came to your office half a year ago, the first time i was too embarrassed to say anything other than ‘i’m so sorry, sir’, but the second time was on his break, i think and it kind of… went smoothly from there.” a blush spread over your cheeks, but jennifer didn’t comment on that.

“you’d look cute together.” her words made your brain go a little fuzzy. maybe she was right, but something in your gut told you that nothing would be happen between the two of you, spencer was the type of guy in love with his work, not a random girl he met on a random tuesday. although, his mind was an enigma, how could you be so sure of that?

“c’mon, jj.” you mumbled, looking away. “we’re friends, strictly platonic.”

the unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach was there, even after the unsub was caught two days after you were free to leave the hospital. it was only growing, when you were alone with a man you weren’t exactly close with. as bad as it made you feel, being around your dad’s co–workers was almost paralysing. morgan, rossi, the cops involved in your case, who tried talking to you about the entire thing, it was making your hands shake.

“spence?” you whispered, after having knocked on the door of his hotel room, a day before they left.

he opened the door immediately, almost as if his guts told him you were on the other side. he looked like you’d just woken him up. his hair all over the place, his gaze sleepy. a t–shirt loose on his body as he pulled you inside, closing the door behind you. “hey, sorry. i didn’t mean to wake you up, thought you’d be still up.” you couldn’t bring yourself to speak louder.

“i had a feeling you’d swing by.” his words made your cheek grow hotter, because to be honest… you were thinking about seeing him, laying down on the bed unable to sleep. “what’s on your mind?” he asked, bringing his hand to your chin, causing you to look at him.

“are all the profilers doing that?” you asked, mesmerised by the way his eyes roamed around your face, a small smirk appearing on his lips.

“subconsciously, yeah.” you chuckled. “don’t go off topic. something is bothering you, you know i see it.”

“i just… wanted to see you.” embarrassment rolled off your tongue, knowing that probably lots of women had already told him that. mostly, because morgan told you about the time, when prostitutes tried hitting on him during one of the cases — spencer had his charm, but you couldn’t be sure if he knew. “jesus, you can’t look at me like that, when you’re all that.”

“all that?” reid’s laughter rang in your ears as he made a step towards you, reducing the distance between you two.

“yeah? have you seen yourself before you opened the door? man, i had four stab wounds and—” you began to ramble, but his smirk and the look on his face make you stop, before another chuckle left his lips. “what?”

“nothing.”

“reid!” you groaned, punching him slightly in the arm as he still held your face, tilting it upwards.

seconds later, his mouth were on your, his lips moving against yours tenderly. his free hand squeezing your waist gently, pushing you even closer. it was the first time you felt any type of comfort in the past few days. you were completely speechless as the kiss broke off, looking at him with big eyes.

“i– you–.” you stuttered.

“it’s funny, you usually can’t stop rambling, but now you’re a stuttering mess.” he chuckled once again, his arms firm, yet gentle on your waist as he continued to tease you with a smirk that wouldn’t get off his face.

“i thought if i did something wrong, i’d not see you again.” he whispered, his nose brushed against yours. your breath hitched in your throat at the proximity. “it made me realise how many things i should’ve done before, how important you became to me, y/n. i can’t go on without a thought of you in my mind, you’re like a plague that i don’t– that i’d never get rid of.”

“i know this job is hectic and that i’m a mess most of the time, but you’re the only one that keeps me sane after what i see.” his lips brushed against yours again and you didn’t protest.

“so… you’re saying that you can’t stop thinking about me.” it was your turn to smirk at him, your heart tingling with a feeling unknown, yet so familiar that always appeared around him. “i can’t stop thinking about you, too, you know. i, uh, had this feeling that if i get out, you’d be there somewhere to keep me safe.”

“i am, and i always will, promise.”

“is it you asking me out right now?” a quiet giggle escaped your mouth, earning a hum in return. “only if you’re gonna say yes.”

[sorcerous-caress]

Hello!! I love your writing 😍 Would it be okay if you wrote Karlach, Lae'zel and whomever you wish with a tiefling!Tav that loses both a horn and an eye during a battle and can't quite find balance in their fighting afterwards bc of it?

Reacting to Tav losing a horn/eye

[Hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, nb!reader, Tiefling!reader]

[Karlach, Laezel, Wyll, Halsin]

Karlach

She swears she can still hear it, your agonised scream, the splatter of blood, the crunch of bone being torn apart.

As if the world slowed down for a moment, an eerie quietness surrounding the battlefield for the uncomfortable stretched out seconds. Your companions turning to look at you, clutching your eye with your back hunched.

Dread filled her stomach, one of your horns laid on the bloody floor next to your feet.

She doesn't remember the rest. Only when she stood atop the burnt rubble of what used to be the battlefield, did the all-consuming rage fade away from her mind.

Karlach is immediately at your side after, apologising for not being there sooner.

She's by your side as you heal, making sure to bring you anything you might need. As your struggles to adjust to combat again in the aftermath become more and more evadint, she is one of the first people to suggest fully leaving combat to her.

Yes, you are capable. Yes, she has seen how strong you are. But sometimes life just doesn't go the way we plan it. You can relay on her instead.

You don't have to go back to the cruel world. You can let her take care of it. Karlach really can't afford losing you. She'd claw her way up the heavens and steal you away if your fate took a turn to the worse.

Laezel

She completely disagrees with Karlach. This is nothing but a minor setback if anything. Laezel completely has faith in you to relearn how to find your balance, and she'll teach you if she has to.

As long as you can still stand on your feet and carry a sword, then you can fight in her eyes. She will give her sincere apologies for letting you down in battle and not doing something before enemeis got the chance to best you, but besides it, you'll get no pity from her.

Why is everyone acting as if you died? You're clearly still the same strong and capable person she knows. If anything, each scar is evidence of how your enemies' failure to put you down, you should show your broken horn with pride.

She has enough self awareness not to impose her views on you, no matter how much she thinks her companions are being dramatic and oversensitive, is she noticed you being fully uncomfortable with her approach she will take her leave from your bedside.

But you got fed up with people infantlising you, then she will be the first to 6pull you back into an intense daily training routine until you regain your footing.

Wyll

While Karlach and Laezel were too busy arguing about your own fate, Wyll was there for you throughout every stage of healing. He knows what it's it like losing an eye. He can relate to the horror and dissociation that happens whenever you look at the mirror to see a piece of yourself missing.

He still hasn't gotten used to his own horns himself, and losing one of yours must have been painful to bear. He will stay by your side until you feel better, no pressure to discuss the future or your fighting abilities or anything.

Wyll will make sure you don't feel alone, that the dark thoughts don't consume you too much. Share you worries with him, let him help carry your burdens, please. It kills him seeing someone so dear to him suffer when he can't do anything or help.

Halsin

His heart breaks, seeing you coming back to camp limbing and bloodied that day. He prays to Silvanus to ease your pain as he takes shift with Shadowheart to nurse you back to health with healing spells.

Nature can be so unforgiving sometimes, to some animals, losing an eye or horn can be a death sentence.

But he has seen even the most withered of plants suddenly flourish and regain their strength, he has personally stayed up countless nights to care for the weak kittens that their mother refused to even acknowledge.

He has seen them grow, nurtured them into a strong healthy state.

Don't surrendered to the darkness, when the abyss starts whispering about how this is your end and how your potential was wasted you yell at the abyss, bite, claw and fight your way out of this rut.

True strength lies in the heart, give yourself time to rest, and don't rush your healing. Eventually, you'll be back on your own two feet with a new view on the world before you can realise it.

[dokifluffs]

Early Birds | Akaashi Keiji

Pairing: Akaashi X Reader (female)

Genre: Cute high school fluff

Author's Note: I am beyond rusty; forgive me ;-; edit for after writing: IM SO BAD KAJSHD🧎‍♀️

The streets were empty except for the occasional elderly person taking a morning stroll

Your body was warm but the crisp air crept through your jacket and the tights under your skirt

the cold chill woke you up a bit more on your morning commute to school - always early when the sun was just barely peeking over the horizon in the distance

it was peaceful and quiet

it was the only time you could think and be in your own little bubble

home was cozy but too rambunctious with your three younger brothers and your parents scrambling to get them up and to school

so you always left right when the chaos was beginning

and you were always early before most of the student body

winters were always brutal, especially for you

it felt no matter how much you layered on, the coldness still found a way in

the school came into view and grew bigger and bigger as you got closer and closer

snow crunched under your steps

the wind howled, blowing some loose snow from all around the campus into the school entrance as the door closed behind you

you changed your shoes and took off your coats and winter outerwear you wouldn't need in class

but you kept your pocket warmer knowing your hands would probably freeze off without them

school always felt like a whole different world before the rest of the students came in

it made you feel like a ghost roaming or haunting the schools

you slid the door open to your class, a faint warmth greeting you as you stepped in and closed it behind you

it was always warm around the center of the classroom but your seat was right by the window where the cold always crept in, right in the back too

in the springtime, the view was always breathtaking

but the view in winter was... still somewhat warm

the seats in class were sat in pairs and with the luck of the gods, you were sat beside akaashi, your boyfriend

you folded your arms, one hand holding your pocket warmer

your sweater sleeve was fuzzy against your face but comfy

it was either you laid on your arms or the cold wooden table

there was still quite some time before the rest of the school came

this was always your favorite time to take a quick little nap before the school chaos started

You watched the class, your eyes wandering all over the place, seeing all the things you've seen already every morning, but there was always at least one little thing you noticed was new

the classroom slowly began disappearing in your vision until it was completely gone

Akaashi stifled a yawn as he walked down the hall, waking a little too early this morning from having fallen asleep earlier than usual last night

but at least now he could sit in class and read and study ahead for the finals

he slid open the door, letting out yet another yawn, the cool metal on his hand and a warm little gust welcoming him in

He walked in and made his way over to his seat in a few strides

your hair was sprawled out over your desk and a little over his too

"y/n?" he was quiet as he carefully pulled out his seat from beside you, and took his seat

you stirred just a little, pulling your hand closer to your face but stayed asleep

"What's that?" he peeked at your hand, loosely holding onto a pocket warmer

he carefully placed his finger on it but as he suspected, just as he felt it coming from the windows, it was cold

He knew you always had pocket warmers, bringing one on a daily but it was at least warm when class started

you were always cold and shivering yet the teacher never did anything or moved any seats around

Akaashi took off his blazer and draped it around you to keep you warm

he knew you were always pretty timid so it would be rare for you to confront the teacher sternly

you mainly kept to yourself, you weren't the best at speaking but you always seemed comfortable around him and only him in class

you two even slid little notes back and forth every now and then

but it was true

you were so cute to him

you weren't the biggest fan of speaking or asking for help when you needed it but akaashi was nice enough to care and always noticed when you were struggling

he always helped you whenever and wherever you were on schoolwork

over some time, you slowly began to wake up but somehow, you weren't entirely freezing, mostly your legs

"You awake?" Akaashi tilted his head to see your slow blinking eyes, your head lifting up with a subtle confused look on your face

you felt something hanging on you but most importantly

Akaashi was already here - much earlier than normal

"Mmhm.." you rubbed your eyes

you realized the hanging thing on you was his blazer. You began to take it off of you when he stopped you

"you can keep wearing it. I know you're cold."

"Are you sure? Aren't you cold?" you hugged it closer, letting the warmth and subtle smell waft over you

"I'm okay, you need it more than I do." He patted your head but not messing up your hair

he knew you came early but was it really this early?

"Do you always come so early?"

"mhm," you nuzzled into his hand more. "I like how quiet it is.."

You rest your head back down, now wearing your arms through his blazer sleeves

"Well, I'll start coming early too." He mirrored you, leaning forward to rest his head onto his folded arms

"Why?" you brought his sleeve up to your mouth

"Because you're here. And I need to keep you warm." he leaned in close, pressing his warm forehead to yours.

"See? Even your forehead is cold. What'll I do if you get sick?" He put his hand on your forehead and you melted

he was so warm

"You feel so nice~"

He leaned close as you took in the nice feeling of his warm hand and went for it

he gave you a kiss on your lips, catching you off guard

as different as he seemed while playing or with Bokuto, you were the only one to see Akaashi's heart

he was the warmest view every winter

"I love you," he smiled, pressing another little kiss to your warm, rosy cheek

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

[mercillery]

Hey! Idk of you're taking requests atm so feel free to ignore this if you're not. But Nacht has just showed up on my rewatch of black clover and I'm kind of getting ahead of myself with this hyper fixation?

Could I please humbly request a Nacht (or Julius if you don't do him) x femreader who uses demon soul magic? Like Mirajane Strauss from fairytail? Possibly with a similar backstory if you would be so bold? 👀

Your humble servant - 🍚🦐

WARNINGS: FEMALE READER

NOTES: Had to pull her backstory and powers from the wiki, so sorry if I get some parts of the backstory wrong. Hope you don’t mind that it’s Julius! AND IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG.

Julius, with his insatiable curiosity and deep passion for magic, was immediately captivated the moment he heard about you—a user of demon magic. The concept itself was enough to make his eyes sparkle with interest and excitement. The sheer rarity and potential power of such magic fascinated him beyond measure. He couldn't wait to someday meet you in person, to witness your abilities firsthand, and to understand the intricacies of your unique magic!

When the day finally came and Julius laid eyes on you for the first time, he wasted no time in approaching you. His excitement was palpable, radiating off him in waves as he practically bounced over to you. "You must be the demon magic user I've heard so much about!" he exclaimed, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. His eyes, wide with wonder, already filled with countless questions. And without a moment's hesitation, he began bombarding you with a flurry of questions. "How does your magic work? What are its limitations? Can you show me some of your spells?“

You were taken aback by his relentless inquisitiveness, struggling to keep up with the rapid-fire questions. Yet, despite the initial shock, you found yourself trying to answer each one as best as you could.

From that moment on, Julius began to spend a significant amount of time with you, since you allowed him to. He became a constant presence in your life, so much so that Marx knows that if Julius is once again neglecting his duties but is not in his usual places searching for new magic, then that likely means he’s glued to your side. And every time, he is spot on—much to Julius’ disappointment, because then he’s dragged away by Marx and forced to do boring paperwork again.

And naturally, since Julius spends so much time with you now, he's had the chance to see your demon magic in action—though you might not have been aware of it. He’s not a stalker, but come on, demon magic is just too cool to pass up! Whether he catches glimpses of your magic during your daily activities or because he outright asks you to demonstrate some spells, Julius is always overjoyed.

When you finally agree to show him your magic, his reaction is nothing short of ecstatic. His eyes light up with an intensity that borders on childlike wonder, filled with an insatiable curiosity. Every spell you cast and every display of your abilities leaves him more amazed than the last. It’s like you’re opening up a whole new world to him, and he can’t get enough. The more spells you show him, the more he urges you to continue. His excitement is palpable, and his enthusiasm is incredibly infectious. You demonstrate how you can take on the form of different demons, each with its own unique powers. Julius is practically bouncing with excitement. And when you show him that you can destroy and control demons without even assuming their forms, he’s utterly beside himself with joy.

“You can do that too? That’s incredible! Can you please show me more?” His eyes widen with amazement, and his voice is filled with awe and admiration. Every new aspect of your magic feels like a revelation to him, and he seems on the verge of exploding with excitement. If you continue on, he actually might explode confetti. 

And as much as Julius fanboys over your demon magic, he takes his time to truly appreciate you as an individual, not just for your magic. It wasn't long before he genuinely saw you as a friend, and not just someone who’s tolerating him and his endless questions. In fact, the moment he excitedly bombarded you with questions about your demon magic, he had already considered you a friend. But as time passed, your bond grew deeper, evolving from a shared interest in magic to something more emotionally profound. And obviously, as your friendship with someone deepens, conversations about the past are more likely to happen. However, Julius did not learn about your past from you.

He learns about your past through Yami.

I know this isn’t specifically about Yami, but I have a strong feeling that you and Yami have known each other for a long time—since you both arrived in the Clover Kingdom around the same time. This means Yami has literally known you longer than almost anyone else. He’s seen your journey and transformation into the sweet and motherly figure you are today. Yami's knowledge of your past is something he tends to keep to himself. He respects your growth and doesn’t want to bring up memories that might disturb your peace. However, I imagine there was one night where Yami had a bit too much to drink—and in his inebriated state, he let his guard down and ended up spilling the beans to Julius about how you used to be. Julius, always eager to learn more about his friends, listened intently as Yami talked.

This is how Julius’ face looks like the whole time Yami talks about your past: 🙂😶😮😯

Yeah, Julius is stunned. Not in a bad way, though.

To think that you, the most motherly and sweet woman Julius knows, used to be punkish and temperamental? He was definitely shocked. He had expected many things, but not this. Julius genuinely had to take a few moments to process what Yami had told him. Even with Yami's straightforward description, Julius found it hard to picture you as anything but kind and gentle, even if it was in the past. Julius knew you were tough now, fully capable of defending yourself if necessary, but learning that you were once feared for a completely different reason was a revelation. Yami, realizing his slip-up, quickly muttered an “oops” and told Julius to forget everything he said, as if he hadn’t just unveiled a shocking chapter of your past.

But despite the unexpected information, Julius didn’t feel any negative emotions about it. Instead, the first thought that crossed his mind was curiosity about what might have caused such a drastic change in you. He wondered what significant event or series of events had led to your transformation from a feared figure to the sweet, motherly person you are now. As he pondered this, Julius felt a swell of pride for you. If there was one thing Julius absolutely loved, it was witnessing people change for the better—and you had done just that. This newfound knowledge didn’t alter Julius’s perception of you negatively, not even a tiny bit. On the contrary, it deepened his respect and admiration for you. He saw you as a woman who had not only mastered incredible magic but had also transformed herself into a beacon of kindness and strength. He wasn’t expecting to find out about how you were back then, especially from a drunk Yami, but he isn’t complaining. He learned something new about you today, and he’s proud of the change of character you made.

But now, every time Julius sees you, he tries to imagine you as mean just out of pure curiosity—but he literally cannot. He simply can't fathom you being unkind, even toward the worst being on the planet. But despite his curiosity, he keeps his mouth shut about what Yami revealed, respecting your privacy and not wanting to make you uncomfortable. However, his curiosity continues to grow until one day he can't contain it anymore. Julius is careful and considerate, waiting for the right moment to bring it up. He makes sure it's a time when it's just the two of you, with no one else around to overhear or intrude.

When the moment finally arrives, Julius approaches the topic gently. He understands that the past can be a sensitive subject, and he wants to ensure you feel safe and respected. "I've been meaning to ask you something," he begins, his tone soft and sincere. "Yami mentioned a bit about your past when he was... well, not entirely sober. It made me curious, but I didn't want to bring it up until I felt it was the right time." He pauses, giving you a moment to process his words. "I know that the past isn't always easy to talk about, and I respect that. But if you're comfortable sharing, I'd really like to understand more about your journey." Julius watches your reaction carefully, ready to back off if he senses any discomfort. His genuine interest and respect for you are clear in his eyes.

He listens very closely when you tell him about your past. Believe me when I say that you have his full undivided attention, and he’s literally more focused on you than ever right now; he’s not letting a single word from you go past one ear and then out the other. 

In your younger years, your life was marked by utter tragedy and sorrow. After your parents died, you and your siblings were left to fend for yourselves. When you were around 13, an incident occurred that would change your life forever: a demon had taken over the church in your village, terrorizing the townspeople. In a desperate bid to help, you confronted the demon, using your nascent magical abilities. However, in the chaos of the battle and your lack of control over your powers, you inadvertently took on the appearance of the very demon you had defeated. The townspeople, instead of seeing you as a savior, recoiled in fear and disgust, scorning you and viewing you with hatred. The pain of their rejection cut deep, and you felt an overwhelming sense of shame and self-loathing. Unable to bear the hostile environment, you and your siblings decided to leave the village behind, seeking a new beginning.

Your journey brought you to the Clover Kingdom. While it was a fresh start geographically, your emotional state remained turbulent. The trauma of your past left you withdrawn, mean, and intimidating. You had built a tough exterior, becoming a bully as a means to protect yourself from further hurt. Despite settling into the Clover Kingdom with your siblings, the belief that you were possessed by the demon lingered, fueling your insecurities. After some time in the Clover Kingdom, you finally learned that you were not possessed. Yet, even with this revelation, the deep-seated belief that you were a monster persisted. The scorn and hatred you faced in your village left scars that were not easily healed. You considered leaving the Clover Kingdom to escape your past and the lingering self-doubt, but your siblings persuaded you to stay; they didn't want you to face the world alone.

When Julius finally asks you about your past, you take a deep breath and share your story with him. He listens intently, his eyes filled with empathy and understanding. As you recount the painful memories and the journey that led you to the Clover Kingdom, Julius feels a profound respect for your strength and resilience.

He seems visibly astonished when you're done talking about your background, but he covers it up so his surprise doesn't affect you. However, he remains composed and gives you a nod, letting you know that he listened to absolutely everything you had to say. It's clear that he has a great deal of sympathy, and he feels awful for you because of your difficult and painful background.

"I'm sorry you had to go through all of that," Julius says softly once you've finished, looking at you with eyes full of compassion and empathy. "But I hope you know that you're not a monster. You've shown incredible strength and kindness despite everything."

His words bring a sense of comfort and validation, easing the initial nervousness you felt about speaking of your past. You look down and smile, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction in knowing that he completely understands and doesn’t show an ounce of disrespect toward you for your past. In that moment, you genuinely feel comforted—not just by his words, but by the genuine concern on his face. It's a relief to have someone hear you out without judgment, and Julius's acceptance brings a warmth to your heart that you hadn't felt in a long time. And after that emotional moment you shared with him, your bond becomes stronger than ever.

Julius won’t bring up your past again unless you decide to do so yourself. He respects your boundaries and understands that such memories are deeply personal and sensitive. However, from now on, Julius will see you in a different light—a much brighter and more admirable one. He looks at you with a newfound appreciation, understanding the depth of your journey and the immense strength it took for you to transform into the person you are today. Every time Julius sees you now, he's reminded of the incredible resilience and courage you've shown. The hardships you've endured and the significant changes you've made only serve to elevate his respect and admiration for you. It fills him with happiness to know that someone so strong and kind has overcome such adversity.

He’s genuinely glad you felt comfortable enough to share your past with him, and this trust has only deepened the bond between you. He knows that opening up wasn't easy, and your willingness to let him in is something he cherishes. And from now on, Julius will carry your story with him. He feels honored to know the true extent of your past and the remarkable strength it took to overcome it. Your presence is like a constant reminder of the power of change and the human spirit's capacity for growth. Overall, he feels incredibly lucky to call you a friend. :)

[selyeji]

amoeba

pedri gonzalez x reader

summary : lovers resting to their own corner in the woods, taking a break from social interactions.

warnings : none

you sat on the opposite side of the table from pedri in the party, loud music playing in the background, chatter filled the building since it was a team celebration. you were done eating your food, occasionally taking a sip from the juice you ordered. you started getting uncomfortable from the amount of people.

you crossed your arms on the table, your eyes darting below. everything was so loud, needing to just shut it out. staying here too long being an introvert was definitely a bad idea. your heart races from new faces entering and walking around. you pulled your leg up to touch pedris. looking up to his face waiting for him to notice. of course, he immediately stops talking to others, bringing his attention to you. once he saw your eyes, he understood.

smiling, he grabbed your hand with his, excusing yourselves from the conversation. bringing you outside to the balcony, to get fresh air. you breathe in, taking a break from the smell of drinks. pedri still staring at you with admiration with a smile on his face. “thank you pedri, it’s like you’re the only one who understands me. you’re the only person i need” you said, blushing. “im glad, i’ll always be here, im yours.” he said, tucking your hair behind your ear, kissing your temple. “c’mon y/n. let’s leave this place.”

…

you and pedri entered a local convenience store. grabbing snacks off the shelves, quietly making jokes and laughing at this late hour. you check out the items, grabbing the plastic bag and going back in the car. pedri started driving, turning on music as he drove to a special spot up in the mountains. he parks his car before you both get out, walking up since you weren’t allowed to drive any further.

“race you up there!” you yelled as you ran before him. you knew pedri would outrun you, obviously he’s a footballer, definitely way more fit than you. before you knew it, he was right beside you running, effortlessly going past until he pulled his hand out, turning his head waiting for you to grab it. you reached out, running along side with him. it was hard keeping up but you grinned happily anyways.

out of breath, you arrive. it was simply just a bench on top of the mountain, but it overlooked the city. dim yellow lights that stretched throughout streets, people living their daily lives, going home from work, the palm trees softly waving. it never failed to amaze you.

you and pedri sat down, opening the snacks you bought earlier. you bring out some pieces, bringing it to pedris face, feeding him. you couldn’t give him as much due to his diet, but he was fine with it.

this spot was truly special to the both of you. deep conversations, truthful thoughts and any sort of laughter was safe. whatever was said stayed there, it helped you get away from people. sometimes we just need a break from life, not completely shutting people out. all it needs it someone you can talk to, you had each other. being introverts, your social battery going out often, you two fitted perfectly like two jigsaw pieces.

no matter how tired you are, your heart would never be exhausted of pedri. you take your earphones out, connecting it to your phone as you open spotify. placing and earbud on your ear, the other on pedris as you scroll through your shared playlist. you both share your love for music, being diverse in almost ang genre. quietly watching people on the streets below working, children going home after playing the whole day, street musicians bringing life into the night sky. birds chirped in the trees nearby, squirrels rustling through the bushes. sometimes throwing nuts for them to eat.

quickly finishing the snack you opened, placing the wrapper back into the plastic bag since there wasn’t a trash bin nearby. as you both sat there in silence, the music still playing. pedri laid his head on your shoulder, you adjusted your position so he could be comfortable. resting yours on his, pulling out your hand to play with his hair. massaging his scalp as you softly smile at the beautiful city with your lover.

daily click to help palestine

a/n : lowkey rushed,,,

[luc-obsession]

Taken

Diluc sat in his office chair, skimming over his monthly stack of vendor contracts and trade agreements. He signed about half the ones he read.

He no longer sat besides his lawyer - he knew enough legal jargon to read these papers alone. He also knew the tricks of the trade, which half of his customers tried to pull.

It seemed they were hoping he’d miss a word or two, or forgive the typos of an extra 0 they’d make.

He had no problems from his older, more experienced clients; it was the newer ones who typically made these exploitative “mistakes”.

He’d teach them that he maintained the upper hand - or at least equal footing - in all his dealings.

And you were no exception.

His door opened.

Two of his maids, holding you by your wrists, brought you inside.

Diluc thanked them; they nodded in response.

They left, closing the door behind them. A click followed.

You shrunk back from him.

Diluc knew you were hurt - betrayed, even. He had taken you for his own gain.

He brought you here to deal with the aftermath.

“Have a seat.”

You sat down, avoiding his eyes. There were dried tears on your face.

“Ask me anything. I know you have questions.”

You remained silent. This wouldn’t do.

“Answer me.”

A string of obscenities left your lips. This also wouldn’t do.

“Play nice, or I’ll cut your portions.”

Again, you fell silent. Then you started singing his tune.

“I trusted you, Diluc! So why did you betray me?”

“Sumeru is quite dangerous. I hear the enemies there are twice as harmful as Liyue’s.”

Diluc needed back your trust. What better way to earn it than a few well-crafted lies?

“But I know my way around a fight!”

“Not enough to defeat a Level 90 Terrorshroom with only Hydro and a sword.”

Both of which he’d taken from you.

“I’m keeping you here for your protection, and you were eager to go.”

You sighed.

“If you went and never returned…I don’t think I could bear it.”

“Look, I think it’s great you care about my safety and all, but adventuring is who I am.”

You were right. The light in your eyes had dimmed - because of him.

If he let you indulge yourself and explore Sumeru, you’d leave him for over a month, and possibly never return.

If you stay with him, you’d never leave Mondstadt again. You’d lose the thing that made you, you. The very reason he loved you.

It was already beginning to fade.

Still, he wouldn’t be Diluc if the only person keeping him sane left for so long.

He couldn’t go back to being a shadow of his former self.

“I understand, but I need you.”

Your eyes widened.

“Is that the actual reason you kidnapped me?”

“Yes, my love.”

“But I don’t return your feelings,” you spat. “I only love good men!”

“I am a good man. I’m keeping you safe, aren’t I?”

“I’d rather die than live with you!”

That hurt. But he wasn’t surprised.

Diluc clapped his hands twice. There was nothing more he could say.

His maids opened the door again.

“Come, we’re going back to your room.”

“Back to your room.”

They grabbed your wrists and marched you out of the door.

You longed for Teyvat’s treasures, but Diluc couldn’t let you have them. So he’d do the next best thing: spoil you into longing for him instead.

. . .

Every morning, Diluc laid a massive breakfast on your dresser.

Whenever he made steak, you’d get stacks of four, with cheese slices sandwiched in between. He’d give you enough hash browns to fill your plate, piled high enough to reach the jelly bowl in the center.

The night after your discussion, he’d gotten his maids to test every soap on the market. They wouldn’t stop until they found the one that made their hands gentlest, hair smoothest, and faces clearest. Then they picked that brand in the scent you loved most, all on Diluc’s dime.

You bathed in that daily. When you came out, you were dressed in the finest silk robes and dresses, doubly as soft as the ones you used to wear.

He’d ordered you a copy of each of Mondstadt’s and Inazuma’s most popular book series, up to the latest volumes. He knew how much you loved Yae’s tales.

But not Sumeru’s. That would remind you of his transgression, and Diluc was determined to make you forget.

He gave you bottles of your favorite wines. Let you play games of Invocation TCG with his maids, or even him, if you’d like.

He even let your old friends visit, once he’d made clear that you weren’t going anywhere.

But nothing he did brought back your old smile. Nothing revived the light that once shone in your eyes.

He’d turned you into the very thing he was afraid to become.

Now he couldn’t stand the sight of his own reflection.

[annievrse]

the lamest prank

satoru x reader —ᡣ𐭩 blurb a/n: a little something i came up with in like half an hour, enjoy :P

"...You're up to something, aren't you?" Satoru's voice cuts through the silence in your room, causing you to jump in surprise.

Glancing over your shoulder, palm to your chest, you glare at your best friend. "You scared the shit out of me."

Satoru shrugs, stepping further into your dorm, his eyes narrowing at the packet of Oreos and toothpaste tubes laid out in front of you on the floor.

"Why are you devising the lamest prank in the world?"

You roll your eyes and turn back to your project. "This was meant to be for 'Guru, and you, but I guess the cat's out of the bag."

Satoru threw his head back in laughter, his hand on his stomach. "You're so cute."

Your eyes widen as you spread the toothpaste onto one side of the cookie. "You don't sound particularly upset about being the victim of my prank."

"Oh, I'm not," He says casually as he moves around you to sit on your bed.

You squint at him. "Then why do you look so annoyed?"

Satoru says nothing, but his bright eyes behind his sunglasses tell you everything you need to know.

Sighing, you hold out your hand with a tube of toothpaste and an Oreo in your palm. "You're upset I didn't include you, aren't you?"

Taking the items from your grasp, Satoru smirks. "A little..."

"Well, you usually don't invite the person you want to prank to help you set it up, do you?"

"Guess not. But it's good my daily snooping resulted in something interesting today... It's better than yesterday... Haibara will not like what I saw."

"What?" You furrow your eyebrows. "You're such a nerd, 'Toru."

"Yeah, whatever," He rolls his eyes, white hair falling over his eyes. "Pass me that knife, loser."

After his fingers graze yours, you nod your head toward the uncapped tube in his hand. "You better load that one up good. Suguru used my shampoo yesterday, and then he stole my leftover sashimi in the fridge."

"Oh, that was me. That was so fresh, so delicious," Satoru moans. "Best I've ever had, actually."

Your jaw falls open, and you shake your head. "Fuck you, Gojo."

"Nuh-uh, you don't get to curse the only one who's gonna help you out of this situation later," He raises an eyebrow. "Wait, why were you pranking me? What did I do?"

You give him a deadpan look. "It's more like, what haven't you done?"

A gasp leaves Satoru's lips, and he leans down to place his finished cookie on the plate next to you. "You wound me, my love."

"And you are the most annoying pain in my ass ever, so we're even."

"You love me," Satoru coos, ruffling your hair. You swat his hand away, laughing.

"In your dreams."

"Wow, I didn't know you were psychic!" Satoru reels back dramatically and lays on your bed. "What else can you tell me about my future?"

When he's met with silence, Gojo sits up to see you holding an Oreo out for him.

"Snack?" The sickly sweet smile on your face is to be expected when you're dealing with his shit, so Satoru takes the cookie, unsuspecting.

"Oh, and you're giving me treats?" He clutches his chest. "You really are the greatest thing to ever exist, aren't you?"

But soon, his face screws up in disgust when he realises the cream between the cookie isn't vanilla but minty sludge instead.

"The ultimate betrayal!" He splutters, spitting the cookie into his hand, his hair swaying with each movement. "That's fucking disgusting."

A small, real smile pulls at the corners of your mouth. "Get out of my room, Satoru."

He tilts his head at the softness in your voice and stands. "As you wish," Gojo takes one step but crouches beside you. "Good luck with your little experiment."

You hum in response, rendered speechless when he leans closer to kiss your forehead. But when you don't wipe it off like usual, Satoru feels his heart skip a beat.

"Though, I'm telling Suguru to keep clear of the Oreos in the common area," He whispers. "And I used your shampoo too... he doesn't deserve to endure the pain I just did."

You gasp, dropping the objects in your hands onto the plate below.

At your reaction, Satoru laughs and stands. "Kidding."

"I hate you!" You throw a tube of toothpaste at him as he runs out of your room, slamming the door behind him.

But, later that afternoon, Suguru could be heard gagging in the common area, and you knew Gojo loved a lame prank.