#now whether that's good or bad is up for debate however that's just how things are

[saltyfilmmajor]

I know in my heart of hearts that they were not going to give tom that best acting nom but by god it makes me sad

[incognit0slut]

Stress Relief

You convince your husband to take out his anger on you when he comes home very tense.

Warnings: (18+ MDNI) dom!spencer, sub!reader, oral (f), reader in handcuffs so light bondage?, choking, unprotected penetrative sex, multiple orgasms, aftercare and domestic bliss because he’s still our beloved spencer

Words: 5k for 5k milestone celebration! TYSM ILY💘💘

A/n: I combined two requests asking for him to get all angry/frustrated because an unsub had a particular thing for winding him up (from anon 1) so he needs some kind of smutty release (from anon 2). You know who you are.

You could tell something was off. 

A sense of unease settled in the pit of your stomach as the front door creaked open, and instead of the usual lively greeting from your husband, you were met with silence. It was as though he was physically there and yet you could sense his absence in the air. 

"Spence?" You called out, stepping out of the kitchen. When there was no response, you tried again. "Baby, are you okay?"

Your feet guided you down the hallway where you found him standing by the door with his back facing you. Even from behind, you could sense the foul mood he was in. His shoulders seemed more tense than usual, his hair slightly disheveled, and there was an edge to his movements as he closed the door with a loud thud.

"Babe?"

His response was brief, his gaze flickering towards you before quickly darting away, almost as if he were intentionally avoiding your eyes.

"Hey."

"Hey?" you echoed. "That's all I'm getting?"

When his eyes met yours again, you could practically feel the tension radiating from him. It was clear that he was angry, his usual calm demeanor seemed to be replaced by a subtle but palpable edge. There was a tightness in his jaw, a clenched fist by his side, and his usually warm gaze now held a hint of sharpness.

Only one thought crossed your mind whenever he came home like this.

"Bad day at work?"

He slowly nodded.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head.

"Do you want a hug?"

He hesitated momentarily, his brows furrowing slightly as if debating whether to accept your offer. Then, without a word, he closed the distance between you. His arms enveloped you, pulling you close as he buried his head in the crook of your neck. Your hand instinctively found its way to his hair, fingers gently running through the soft strands.

"Oh, honey, you're so tense," you noted as your other hand trailed along his shoulder. "Is there anything I can help with? A massage? A nice warm bath maybe?"

You felt him shake his head against you, but you persisted, wanting to offer him comfort in any way you could. When your hand smoothed down his back, his hold on you tightened. When your fingers brushed the nape of his neck, you felt his warm breath caress your skin.

Then it happened—soft lips brushed against the spot under your ear, tentative at first, before growing more urgent. It wasn't the tender, affectionate kisses you were used to, but a different kind of intimacy that felt almost desperate. His lips nibbled and sucked gently at your skin and it became clear to you what he wanted.

"You want another kind of release, baby? Is that what you want?"

His lips momentarily paused against your neck, his arms loosening their grip around you before he rested his hands on your hips. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?" 

"Because—” he stopped, his grip on your body tightening. “Because I don't feel like myself right now."

You grabbed him by the shoulders, pushing him away just enough to see his face. "What makes you say that?"

Spencer held your gaze. How could he explain to you that he was on the verge of acting out his frustration? That he was so close to losing control? 

He knew how difficult he could be when anger took hold of him. In his younger days, he wouldn't hesitate to fire off sassy remarks and snarky comments, letting his emotions dictate his behavior. However, as he matured, he learned better to hide those emotions behind a composed facade.

But tonight felt different. Despite his best attempts to maintain his control, he could feel his anger slipping away, and it was unfair to burden you with it. Especially when you were offering yourself to him, so sweet and so pretty, when he knew love wasn't exactly what he could offer you right now. 

So he decided to release you, his grip loosening as he stepped back.

"Forget it," he muttered under his breath before turning towards your shared bedroom. Your brow furrowed as he walked away, leaving you standing there with your mouth slightly agape, bewildered by his sudden withdrawal.

"Spencer Reid," you called after him, your voice laced with a hint of irritation as you followed him. "I wasn't done talking to you."

He paused, his hand halfway to his tie before he loosened it with a sharp tug. You leaned against the bedroom doorway, crossing your arms as you continued to study him. His lack of response only fueled your growing annoyance, but you knew better than to escalate the situation into a fight.

Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you spoke up, your voice steady but tinged with frustration. "Honey, I can't help you if you're acting this way."

"What makes you think I need help?"

"The way you're wrestling with your tie gives it away," you replied, your words laced with a hint of sarcasm.

He shot you a pointed look, clearly unimpressed by your remark. "I don't need your help."

Your frown deepened. "Seriously? You're just going to shut me out like this?"

"I'm not shutting you out," he countered, moving around the room. "I just need some space."

"Well you're doing a pretty damn good job of it," you shot back, your patience wearing thin as you pushed yourself off the doorway. His jaw clenched, but he remained silent, his actions focused on undoing the button on his wrist now. You scoffed at his lack of response again.

"Oh, so now you're giving me the silent treatment?" When it seemed evident he was trying to ignore you, you pressed on. "Fine, keep your silence, let me do the talking."

His eyes flickered momentarily at you before he turned around, undoing the button of his shirt. You watched him quietly as he continued to avoid your gaze. 

"Spencer," you began, your voice softer now. "I know your job can be hard, and I know you're going through a lot right now, but shutting me out won't make it any easier."

“I've already told you, I'm not trying to shut you out."

"Then what are you doing?" you pressed. "I tried offering you help when you didn't want to talk about it. And the one thing I can help you with, the one thing I'm sure will help you relax, you refused." 

You let out a frustrated sigh, hating how much your voice wavered now.

"Spence... you—you didn't even want to have sex with me."

His shoulders stiffened at your words, finally turning to face you. "You think I don't want to have sex with you?"

You swallowed hard, feeling a knot form in your throat. "I don't know what to think anymore," you admitted. "You're giving me the cold shoulder, it’s hard not to take it personally."

The room seemed to close in around you, suffocating in its silence. Then, you watched as he began to walk towards you. One step. Two steps. Until his presence loomed over you, casting a shadow that suddenly made you feel small and vulnerable.

"I'm refusing to have sex with you right now not because I don't want to," he said, his voice dangerously low. "I'm refusing because I'm trying to protect you."

You frowned, confusion furrowing your brow. "Protect me from what?"

There was a moment of silence before he replied, “From myself."

You felt a knot tightening in your stomach, goosebumps forming on your skin as you struggled to comprehend what he was trying to say.

“I… I don't understand."

"I don't want to risk it. I'm afraid that if we... if we cross that line, I might hurt you."

"Spencer," you whispered in disbelief, as if his words were the most absurd thing you'd ever heard. "You would never hurt me."

He shook his head. "You wouldn't be so sure if you knew half of the thought in my head right now."

You faltered for a moment, taken aback by his words. Then your gaze involuntarily flickered down his body, tracing the lines of his open shirt and the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Your breath caught in your throat as your gaze moved lower, taking in the way his pants hung low on his hips, and the trail of soft hair leading downwards.

You swallowed hard.

"Tell me then," you challenged, your voice trembling slightly as you met his gaze again. "Tell me how you'd hurt me."

He studied you, assessing, calculating. "You won't like it," he warned.

"And what if I do?"

His eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of surprise flashing across his features. "You don't know what you're asking for."

"I know what I want."

He regarded you for a long moment, weighing your words carefully. Finally, he stepped closer, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, "You really want to know what I'd like to do to you?"

You held his gaze. "Yes," you replied. "Tell me."

His lips curved into a faint, almost rueful smile. With a slow, deliberate movement, he reached out and traced a finger along the curve of your jaw. "I want to use you," he murmured. "I want to feel you, to taste you. I want to make you scream."

You could feel the heat traveling through your body, a heady mixture of desire and anticipation flooding your senses. You reached out, fingers trembling as they brushed against his chest, feeling the heat radiating from his skin.

"I want to control you," he continued, his gaze darkening. "I want to tie you up leave you bruises, mark your skin. I want you helpless, begging for mercy."

He tilted your chin up, his eyes locking with yours.

"I want to see how far you'll go for me."

Your breath caught in your throat as you drank in his words, and you couldn't deny the heat spreading between your legs. "And what if I want that too?"

A tense silence settled between you. Then slowly, almost as if testing the waters, he wrapped his fingers around your throat, simply holding you there. "You don't mean that."

"Try me," you dared, holding his gaze. "Put your hand between my thighs and see just how much I mean it."

His grip around your throat tightened ever so slightly while his other hand hovered at the waistband of your cotton pants. You felt a jolt of anticipation as he slipped his hand inside, your breath hitching as the pad of his calloused fingers dipped inside your panties.

A soft hum of approval escaped his lips when the slickness of your arousal coated his skin.

"Would you look at that? Barely even touched you and you're already this wet?" A low gasp fell between your lips as he found your clit. "You really want this, don't you?"

You could only manage a whimper in response, your breath coming in ragged gasps. 

"Tell me," he insisted, his breath hot against your skin. "Do you want me to stop?"

Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to find your voice. "No," you finally managed to gasp.

With deliberate slowness, he trailed his fingertips lower, teasingly circling your entrance. He started with gentle strokes, keeping his fingers only on the outer side as you tried to bite back a moan that threatened to slip out.

“You dirty girl,” he muttered, and you feel yourself getting wetter as his finger continued to touch you teasingly. Then slowly, the grip on your throat loosened before his hand moved to cup your cheek.

“I need you to be sure," he whispered, "Because once we cross that line, there's no going back."

Your eyelids dropped lower as you chewed on your bottom lip, feeling the weight of his desire hanging in the air. It was a heady mix of uncertainty and anticipation, but one thing was clear—you wanted him.

You wanted him to use your body.

“Use me however you like,” you confessed. "I-I’m all yours.”

His lips were on yours in an instant. There was no mercy in his kiss, only raw desire and urgency. He kissed you as if he needed to breathe in your air, his lips moving desperately against yours, his tongue seeking entrance to taste you.

His hand then left your pants to cradle your face, holding you gently yet firmly as he explored every inch of your mouth, leaving you breathless and wanting more. Finally, he pulled away, his chest rising and falling heavily as he caught his breath. 

He looked down at you, his gaze intense, and saw the dazed expression in your eyes. Your touch, taste, and scent clouded his vision as you trembled in his arms, the soft sounds of your labored breath sang in his ears.

Mine, mine, mine.

"Now listen to me," he said, his voice low and commanding. "I'm going to leave you for a while, and when I come back, I expect to see you lying on the bed naked with your legs spread apart."

You swallowed hard, eyes slightly going wide. You felt his hand gripping your jaw.

"Do I make myself clear?"

You quickly nodded. "Y-Yes."

His grip tightened momentarily before he released you, his gaze piercing as he held your eyes for a moment longer. Then, without another word, he turned and left the room. 

With trembling hands, you began to undress, each piece of clothing dropping to the floor until you stood bare before the bed. The cool air prickled against your skin as you slowly climbed onto the bed.

You brought your feet onto the bed before spreading your knees apart. It felt weird, you had never felt so exposed and vulnerable, yet you couldn't deny the arousal pooling between your thighs. And then you heard him, his footsteps gradually coming closer and your heart pounded in your chest as you gripped onto the bed sheets.

His tall frame filled the doorway as he took in the sight before him, his eyes lingering between your legs. He watched your chest rise and fall, watched the way your legs fell apart even more as if you were offering yourself to him. Without a word, he approached the bed and stripped off his shirt. 

Before you could catch your breath, he stood over the bed beside you. "Put your arms above your head."

You hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of his gaze, but then slowly, almost instinctively, you complied, raising your arms above your head as instructed. You watched as he reached behind his back, and your heart raced as you glimpsed the glint of metal in his hand.

He didn't say a word as he reached for your wrists, securing them above your head with the cold metal of the handcuff, restraining you to the bed. The click of the cuffs echoed in the room before he stepped back, his eyes fixed on you with a predatory gleam as if he was admiring his handiwork.

Your pulse quickened as you lay there, exposed and at his mercy and you couldn't help but squirm under his gaze. He moved closer, his fingers trailing lightly along your skin, and you shivered, both from the chill of the metal and the warmth of his touch.

"You look so pretty like this," he murmured. "So helpless, yet so willing."

Your eyes followed his movement as his fingers moved to unbutton his pants. Then he was completely naked, and even though you had seen him like this countless times, the sight of his cock never failed to make your cunt clench in anticipation. He was thick and hard, with veins pulsing along its length and droplets of wetness glistening at the tip.

The bed sank under his weight as he positioned himself between your legs. You gasped when he leaned forward, the underside of his cock teasingly brushing against your wet folds as his lips met your collarbone. You bit down on your bottom lip as he kissed lower, stopping at your left breast, where he suckled on the supple skin just above your nipple.

His mouth latched onto your skin after taking a moment to try and keep himself from rushing into things. But he was a simple man. His lips worked precisely and diligently, and you watched as he left marks on your breasts, his teeth gently sinking into your flesh here and there, his warm saliva coating the faint markings.

The kisses left on your sensitive skin resulted in you whining for more. Spencer felt a rush of satisfaction like no other, his touches growing more urgent with each sound that escaped your lips. His tongue glided over your plump breasts, teasing and tantalizing, until finally, his mouth enveloped your nipple.

You squealed, squirming underneath him, and he smiled against your skin, his lips forming a knowing smirk as he continued to suck while his thumb flicked the nipple he wasn't focusing on. There was no doubt you would be left with bruises tomorrow morning.

Your eyes drifted downward just as he looked up, his gaze meeting yours, and you couldn't help but whine when the tip of his tongue circled your nipple teasingly. You reached out, craving the sensation of your fingers in his hair, only to feel the metal of the handcuffs digging into your skin.

"It's torture, isn't it? Not being able to do anything," he taunted with a laugh, shifting his attention to your other nipple. "But I guess that's the fun part.”

You whimpered as he softly bit your sensitive bud, and your back arched off the bed in response. He leaned back, admiring the marks he'd left on your skin.

"God, look at you," he murmured as his gaze lingered on your flushed skin, the swell of your breasts rising and falling with each breath. "I could do this all night."

Slowly, he lowered himself back down, his lips tracing a path from your chest down to your stomach. You squirmed, anticipation coiling tightly in your belly as his warm breath ghosted lower. His hair tickled your legs, and he took the opportunity to turn his head slightly to the side, immediately pressing a hot open-mouthed kiss against your inner thigh. 

You gasped as he sucked your skin into his mouth, teeth grazing over the flesh as if he was intent on marking every inch of your body. His lips continued to trail along your thighs but never quite reaching the place you craved him the most.

For someone with pent-up emotions, his movements were agonizingly slow. It was frustrating, the way he toyed with you, drawing out the anticipation until you couldn't bear it any longer.

"Please," you whimpered, the chains rattling softly against the headboard as you continued to squirm beneath him.

He paused, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he looked up at you. "Please what?" 

"Pl-Please touch me."

He kissed over your mound as he hooked an arm under your leg. His other hand reached for the heat radiating between your thighs before two of his fingers brushed along your outer lips, dragging your arousal along your skin. "Like this?"

You groaned as he kept on teasing you, stroking you with featherlight touches. “More," you pleaded desperately, almost pathetically. "Please."

His fingers stretched your folds, his gaze fixed on the glistening wetness, on the way your cunt clenched around nothing. "You're so pretty, you know that?"

"Spence..." you breathed out, feeling his breath achingly close to your heat.

He didn't respond with words. Instead, he lowered his head, his breath hot against your flesh. The minute his tongue touched you, you were already a writhing, whimpering mess. Your head began spinning, nerves and pleasure swooping into one big fuzzy mess in your mind as his tongue teased up and down your slit. 

"Oh my god," you whined the moment his mouth circled your clit before sucking on it, sending waves of pleasure along your body. And then, just as you thought you couldn't take it anymore, you felt his finger at your entrance, and without warning, he pushed in his digit, sending your head tilting back with a desperate gasp falling from your lips.

His groan reverberated against your skin as your walls clenched around him. He pushed his finger deeper, curling it inside of you as his tongue lapped at your dripping folds. With each movement, he pressed his face even further into you, relishing the sensation of your wetness coating his jaw.

Your eyes drifted downwards at the same time he looked up, locking gazes with him, and you let out the most filthy cry of pleasure. He held your gaze as his tongue quickened its pace, sucking your clit even harder as he added another finger inside you. 

Your mouth gaped open as you felt the delicious stretch, and you couldn't help but buck your hips towards his face. Spencer always had a fixation on pleasuring you, but not like this—it was never like this. He seemed desperate, almost possessive, as if he couldn't get enough of your taste.

He continued his relentless assault, his fingers pumping inside you with a steady rhythm while his tongue worked tirelessly on your swollen clit. The squelching sound of his fingers thrusting in and out of your dripping walla was so lewd that it made his cock stir against the bed.

You could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you, the heat spreading like wildfire through your veins. Before you knew it, your climax hit you hard, without warning, without mercy, and you were gasping his name over and over.

You shivered and trembled beneath him, tossing your head back even farther, squeezing your walls around his fingers and your legs around his head.  But he didn't stop or even slow down. Instead, he pulled his fingers out of you, only to push your thighs apart even when your legs were shaking uncontrollably.

"Stop moving," he ordered as he leaned in, tasting you all over again. He didn't care that you were a complete mess, that you were still reeling in from your climax, that you were trying to move back away from him. All he cared about was giving you the best pleasure imaginable, and he was intent on seeing it through.

"Spence—” you gasped when his nose brushed your clit. “I-I can't—"

He gently held your fragile body in place to prevent you from running away from his mouth. "Hold still and give me another one." 

How could you not relent when he treated you like this, so considerate yet so rough? You groaned, your eyes meeting the ceiling as you felt his mouth continue its relentless assault on your cunt. The sensation was overwhelming, yet despite your protests, you couldn't deny the building pressure.

Your muscles tensed. Your breathing hitched. You gasped for air. And just as the waves of pleasure threatened to consume you once more, you surrendered, letting out a pathetic cry as your body convulsed with the force of your climax.

His tongue lingered over your sensitive skin, savoring the taste of your release, before he finally withdrew, allowing you a moment to catch your breath. He then lifted his head, your juices glistening on his lips as he watched your heaving chest.

Spencer had never been so thankful for his eidetic memory. He took in the sight of your hands, bound above your head, the rise and fall of your chest as you panted, the tousled strands of hair framing your face. His gaze lingered on the way your legs willingly parted for him, your skin flushed and pussy swollen, all because of him.

It was a sight he wanted to etch into his memory forever.

You bit your bottom lip as his gaze lingered on you, feeling your body flush under his scrutiny. Then, as if something within him shifted, he reached for you, urging your body to turn until you were facing sideways, the chains rattling softly as you moved.

He settled behind you, and your heart quickened as you felt him grab your leg, lifting it in the air. With one hand gripping your thigh firmly, he positioned himself between your legs, his hard cock pressing against your slick folds. 

You could feel the warmth of his body pressed against your back, his breath ghosting over your neck as he leaned in closer. With a deep, guttural moan, he eased himself into you, every inch of him sliding effortlessly into your wetness. You couldn't help but arch your back in response to the sensation of being filled so completely.

"Fuck," he murmured, the curse slipping past his lips in a breathy whisper. It sounded foreign coming from him and yet it only encouraged you more. You pushed your hips back into him, meeting his slow, deliberate thrusts.

"Needed this so much," he confessed, his breath coming out in ragged pants against the nape of your neck. "You have no idea how much I've wanted you like this for so long."

Your head fell back onto his chest, completely enveloped in him—the scent of his skin, the warmth of his touch, the rhythmic movement of his cock thrusting inside you.

"Thought it was wrong of me to take control of you," he muttered, his breath hot against your ear. "But you're enjoying this as much, aren't you?"

You whimpered, unable to form words as the pleasure consumed you and you felt him picking up his pace. The room was filled with lewd noises of your wetness along with the sound of skin slapping against skin.

"You like being helpless like this? You like it when I fuck you while being cuffed to the bed?"

Your breath hitched at his words. His hand left your thigh, but only momentarily. The crack of sound pierced the air, followed by a surge of sensation coursing up your leg. The realization hit you like a bolt of lightning—he spanked you. 

And you liked it.

"Answer. Me," he demanded, each word punctuated by the rhythm of his thrusts.

"Yes," you managed to gasp out. "I-I love being helpless."

He let out a sound of pleasure as he released your thigh, only to tease your clit with his fingers. You gasped, your head thrown back as he applied just the right amount of pressure, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You felt the intensity building, the familiar coil tightening in your stomach as he continued to pump into you, his fingers moving fast against your clit.

You tried to speak and warn him about your upcoming orgasm but you couldn't even think properly. The squelch of his cock driving into you roughly rang in your ears and with a sharp inhale, you felt the tension within you reach its peak. Your muscles tensed, your breath caught in your throat, and then, with an explosive release, you cried out his name.

He groaned as he felt you pulsating around him, your walls gripping him tightly. He continued to move within you, riding out your orgasm as his thrusts grew harder, more urgent until he couldn't hold back any longer.

"I need to see you," he breathed as he pulled out of you. Then he flipped you onto your back, guiding one of your legs over his shoulder as he settled between your thighs once more. The change in position brought you closer, the heat of your bodies mingling as you met his gaze.

Without a word, he pushed himself back into you, the slick heat of your cunt enveloping him. You watched him through half-lidded eyes, feeling your body growing sticky, every inch of you glistening with sweat, but his gaze remained fixated on you, unwavering and intense.

"So pretty," he murmured, his hand finding your face and cupping your cheek, absorbing your features in the dim lighting of the room. "My beautiful wife."

You whimpered as he dragged his hand down your skin, thumb brushing over your lips as he felt your hot breath on his fingertip. He watched your eyes switch between widening and fluttering half shut while he began pumping into you.

Spencer couldn't keep his eyes off of you as you took his cock eagerly, your breasts bouncing each time he thrust forward, your mouth hanging open with your tongue slipping out of your mouth. A whine followed through as his hand moved down to your neck, practically holding you in place as his hips collided against your own.

He gave a slight pressure around your throat, and your head began to loll against the mattress, chin pointed in the air in pleasure. The squeezing sensation was now beginning to take over your body, spreading from across your cheeks, to your ears, and up to your eyes, tears pooling right at the corner. The feeling even reached your stomach, tightening and coiling with the signal of your impending orgasm.

Was this your fourth orgasm? Your fifth? You couldn't keep track; all you knew was the overwhelming sensation prickling your skin. The bed below you felt as if it was on fire. The metal digging around your wrist burned with absolute pleasure.

His thrusts grew more intense, each movement raw and unrestrained, as if he was pouring all his pent-up emotions into you. He seemed to lose himself in the moment, his grip on your neck firm but not painful, but it was enough to make you gasp, your body trembling with pleasure, eyes rolling at the back of your head.

You were instantly gone.

A filthy cry fell between your lips as another orgasm crashed over you, more intense than the last. At some point you were gasping for air, feeling your body going limp but he didn’t stop. His hips had a mind of their own. You could feel them beginning to move like they were possessed, with no regard for your pleasure, and in a way, no regard for his. 

“Oh god—fuck!” You cried, arching your back as much in this position.

He groaned and leaned in, his arms pressing against the bed on either side of you as he pushed your leg up to your shoulder. He tried to kiss you, but the force of his movements made it hard. Instead, his lips hovered just above yours, both of you breathing heavily and moaning into each other's mouths.

Eyelids drooped a bit too low as your mouth went completely ajar, exhaling weakly. It didn’t take long for another wave of pleasure to rush through your body. You convulsed beneath him, thighs quivering violently as you tried to angle your body away from him, the pleasure almost unbearable now.

Through the haze of your orgasm, you caught a glimpse of him throwing back his head with his eyes screwed shut. Then he finally groaned—his movements slowing, breath sputtering from his lungs as he exploded, pumping once, twice, three times all before coming to a halt, cock twitching inside you.

You watched the sweat bead down his forehead as you both worked silently to relax your bodies, pulses pounding in ruthless rhythm. With a deep, contented sigh he finally slid himself out of you before going through his discarded pants on the floor. 

After a moment, he returned to you and unlocked the handcuff from your wrist, the sound of the lock clicking echoing in the room. The chains fell onto the bed with a soft thud as he gently took hold of your hands.

“Are you okay?"

You nodded, offering him a reassuring smile. "I'm okay."

He pressed a tender kiss to both of your wrists, his lips lingering over your pulse for a moment. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked anxiously, his eyes raking over your body. "Was I too rough? Did I—""

"Spencer, relax," you whispered, you took his hand in yours. "I'm good. I promise."

"You sure?" he asked, his face still tight with concern.

"Yes, more than good. Just come cuddle with me?"

He hesitated, his eyes scanning over your body for a few seconds longer. After he seemed satisfied you really were okay, he lowered onto the bed beside you and you drew his head to your chest. Your fingers gently played with his hair, watching as he slowly relaxed into you, throwing one of his arms across your stomach. 

"Thank you," he whispered. "I... I think I needed that."

Your attention shifted to his face, happy to see his expression finally somewhat peaceful as he lay just above your breasts. His eyes were closed, the tension you'd noticed on his face when he'd arrived entirely gone now.

Gently running your fingers through his hair, you whispered, "Of course, baby. Anytime you need me, I'm here."

His lips curved into a small, contented smile as he nestled closer to you. "I love you."

A surge of warmth filled your chest at his words. "I love you too," you whispered back. "But are you okay? Do you want to talk about what happened at work?"

You felt him shift as he shook his head. "Maybe later. I just want to hold you right now."

You gently kissed the crown of his head before pulling him closer. Spencer sighed happily as he snuggled closer to you, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against your chest. He then reached over your breasts, his thumb trailing over the marks he had left on your skin. 

"I didn't realize you enjoyed that so much."

You shrugged the shoulder beside his head. "It's hard not to. I mean, I think I've always liked it when you're in control, and that doesn't only apply to sex."

He leaned back to look at you. "Really?"

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yeah. Remember the first time we started dating and someone broke into my apartment?"

"How could I forget?" he replied, a frown tugging at his brows as he recalled the memory. “That was one of the scariest moments in my life.”

"Right. You thought some serial killer was targeting me when it was just a random robbery. But the way you handled the situation..." you continued, your voice softening. "When you took charge and made sure I was safe, I realized how much I trusted you. And I remember thinking, 'Damn, my boyfriend's pretty cool.'"

His frown melted away, replaced by a warm smile at your words. "You thought I was cool?" 

You chuckled, nodding as you met his gaze. "You're cool, smart, and hot at the same time," you teased. "What I'm trying to say is, I like it when you're in control because I like to depend on you. You make me feel safe and cared for."

His expression softened even further, a tender warmth filling his eyes. "I like it when you depend on me too," he confessed softly. With a gentle tug, he sat up, bringing you along. "Come on then, let me care for you now."

You looked up at him. "Yeah? What do you have in mind?"

"I think we both need that nice warm bath."

You smiled, already feeling the tension in your muscles ease at the thought of a soothing bath with him. "Will you wash my hair too?"

He pushed a strand of hair off your face, his heart swelling with affection at the look in your eyes. How could he resist when you looked at him like he hung up the moon for you? 

"Of course," he replied without hesitation. "I'll do whatever you want me to do."

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Right Answer

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: none

Summary: What you need is a road trip with your crush, aka your older brother’s best friend, to get your mind off your problems and stress. When he goes to get gas, a woman shows up and starts to flirt with Bucky, causing you to be jealous. How do you show Bucky that you want him without actually telling him that?

Squares Filled: road trip (2020) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

It’s been one of those days. Your brother is out of town with his girlfriend so you have the house to yourself, but you hate being alone. You hear every creak the house makes, you think someone is watching you, and you hate sleeping inside an empty house. He’s only been gone for a week but he still has two more weeks before he’s back from vacation. He made his best friend promise to look after you while he’s gone but he’s been over once since he left.

Not that you minded much. You have a major crush on Bucky but the last thing you’re going to do is tell him that. You’re eight years younger than him and Steve, so you’re afraid all he’ll ever see you as is his best friend’s little sister. You and Bucky have a good relationship since he’s always over to hang with Steve, but you two rarely hang out together. You might have the opportunity now since Steve is gone, but you’re having such a bad day that you’re not sure Bucky will be able to cheer you up.

However, it would be nice to hang with Bucky after the shitty day you’ve had at work. You pace the empty living room silently with your phone in your hand, debating whether or not you should call Bucky. It would be nice to talk about your day with someone. You dial Bucky’s number before you can talk yourself out of it and put the phone to your ear.

He doesn’t let it ring past the second one.

“Hey, Doll,” he drawls.

“Hey. Are you busy?”

“I’m free for you.” Your cheeks heat up and butterflies erupt in your stomach. “What’s up?”

“Do you want to go for a drive? I need out of this house.”

“Are you okay?”

“Not really.”

“I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes.”

Bucky is there in ten. He even shows up with flowers in hand which make the butterflies double in size. After putting them in water, you two get in the sleek black muscle car that he loves so much. He has always wanted a 1970 Chevy Camaro and was only able to get his hands on a convertible. He doesn’t use it much unless you’re in the car with him because he knows how much you love the wind in your hair.

You tie your hair in a low ponytail to keep it down, and he puts the top down before pulling out of your driveway. There are plenty of backroads to avoid traffic which Bucky takes instead of the main highway.

“Alright, what’s going on?” he asks after ten minutes into the drive.

“I think my boss wants to fire me or wants me to quit. He’s been cutting my hours and taking responsibility away from me even though I’m working my ass off for him. I work harder than everyone else and put in more hours than everyone, and he still treats me this way. I don’t want to quit because I finally do something in my field. I’m a good photographer but he either doesn’t see it or doesn’t like me.”

“You’re one of the best photographers I know.”

“I’m the only photographer I know,” you chuckle.

“Still. I’ve seen your work. You’re natural talent. I think I might want pictures of this car.”

This causes you to laugh at the thought of Bucky with pictures of his car hanging on his walls. He doesn’t have a girlfriend to hang so may as well hang his car. Bucky looks over at you and admires the smile on your face. He loves seeing you smile.

“I like seeing you smile.”

Heat spreads across your cheeks and you look away while trying to hide your smile. Stop. He’s your older brother’s best friend. He is nearly a decade older than you. He’s just trying to be nice. Whatever he’s doing is working. It’s getting your mind off your shitty day. Bucky continues to drive for another hour with the wind in your hair and music blasting through the speakers.

“Hey, I have to stop at the gas station.”

“Sure,” you nod.

Bucky pulls into the closest gas station and gets out while you stay seated. You pull out your phone and begin browsing your social media. The gas tank is on your side so Bucky walks around the car and starts filling her up.

“Do you want anything?”

“No, thank you.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Oh, I do?” you chuckle and look up at him.

“Yeah. I know for a fact that you haven’t eaten anything all day so I know you’re hungry. If you don’t get food in you now, you’ll be cranky and wake up with a stomach ache. Now, do you want taquitos or hot dogs?”

What…? How does he know that? The only two things you eat from a gas station are taquitos or hot dogs. The pizza always tastes like cardboard, and you don’t want to dine on junk food all the time.

“Taquitos.”

“Be right back.”

Bucky goes inside the gas station and returns two minutes later with some blue Powerade and three taquitos. The pump is still going so he leans back and crosses his arms while waiting for the gas pump to stop.

“Hey, nice car.”

You look over your phone and see a skinny blonde woman walk up to Bucky with flirty eyes.

“Thanks.”

“Makes sense you would own something like that. Fitting for your type.”

His type? Who the hell does she think she is? She doesn’t know Bucky.

“My type? What type would that be?”

“Gym rat, maybe a motorcycle driver, always wanting to show off what he has, but loyal to the ones he loves. Am I getting close?” she smiles.

“Yeah, you are.”

Bucky shifts his weight to his other foot which you take for him being uncomfortable. He puts his hand on top of the window and since the top is still down, you can easily grab it if you want to. Grab it. Show her that he’s yours. Bucky isn’t yours. He only sees you as a little sister. Suddenly, you’re not so hungry. The little green monster known as jealousy sits on your shoulder even though you have no reason to be jealous. Bucky isn't yours and he would never go for you.

Still, you can’t help but reach up and grab his hand. You don’t have to look at Bucky to know he’s smirking.

“So, look, I’m free this Friday and you’re very cute. Want to do something with me? Get to know each other?” she boldly asks.

You squeeze his hand instinctively and he moves his hands in further to grip your hand more. She hasn’t looked in the car since arriving otherwise she’d see you sitting there.

“Sorry, but I gotta go. My girl’s in the car.”

You take your hand away from Bucky as he turns to the pump that has stopped. The woman finally looks at you but you can’t meet her eyes. She nods and walks off without saying a word, and Bucky gets back behind the wheel. You can’t seem to look at him because not only do you have a bunch of butterflies, but you’re kind of embarrassed. You didn’t mean to take him from what you’re sure was a heartfelt moment but you don’t want to think about Bucky with anyone but you.

Does that make you selfish? Maybe.

He pulls out of the gas station and returns to the back roads to get home. The ride is silent for the first ten minutes before Bucky turns the music down.

“So, are we gonna talk about that?”

“Talk about what?”

“You really playing dumb now?”

“What? That woman clearly wanted in your pants. There’s nothing to talk about it.”

“Oh no, there’s clearly something to talk about.”

Bucky reaches over and grabs your hand before pulling it into his lap. You try to yank it away but he has a strong grip on your hand.

“There’s nothing to talk about. Just take me home.”

“Whatever you say, Doll.”

The rest of the ride is spent in complete silence. As soon as Bucky parks the car in front of your house, you’re bolting out of it. Bucky is quicker than you are so he chases after you to the front of the house. You shove the key inside the lock and twist it, pushing the door open to get inside before he can get to you. Luck is not on your side, unfortunately, and he pushes his way in before you can close the door.

“Where are you going, Doll? We’re talking about this.”

“For the hundredth time, there’s nothing to talk about. She was clearly annoying you. I was just trying to save you.”

Bucky keeps the door open and walks you backward into the wall.

“Nope, you’re going to tell me the truth.”

“What truth is there to tell?”

“You were jealous,” he smirks.

“What?! No, I wasn’t.”

“Wrong answer. You didn’t want me going out with her.”

“No. You can do whatever you want.”

“Wrong answer.” Bucky presses you more into the wall and puts his hand on it right next to your head, caging you in. “I’m gonna ask you one more time. Were you jealous?”

“Please, if the roles were reversed, you would have been fine,” you scoff.

You try to ignore how hard your heart is beating or how sweaty your palms get.

“No, I wouldn’t have. Every guy who touches you, talks to you, or looks at you makes me rage. So, no I wouldn’t have been okay. I would’ve been jealous, and I would’ve been able to tell you that.”

“What?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know. You might be Steve’s little sister but you’re more than that to me. I don’t give just anyone rides in my car, and I hate the top being down but I do it because you love it. So, were you jealous?”

“Yes,” you whisper.

“Right answer,” he smirks.

He closes the distance between you two and kisses you, and he slides his fingers through your hair. This is the moment that changes everything. Everything you’ve ever wanted is right here kissing you, and there’s no way you’re gonna let him go now.

x

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[joltrify]

experimentations ft. the Artpop queen herself

Silly little (not so little) unrelated HC I developed later under the cut

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

🎀- HC that EVE's most normal hobby - when not occupied with other things - is repainting dolls 🎀- Like in a blue moon you can catch her at the hobby lobby in mom jeans and a cardigan just looking for materials

★- In her down time (which is a bit rare these days) Nadia'll pick those ball-jointed Barbie/Bratz/MH dolls and give them a complete makeover ☆- While she's making them she's fervently thinking 'I will love you in a way that no one else EVER has' and she treats them all that way ★- She'll repaint them in the most unconventional ways possible but they're still gorgeous; a perfect reflection of her studio artwork on a body that isn't her own ☆- Sometimes if she's low on fabrics, instead of making a full-sized mockup of her exhibition fits she'll use her dolls to test the outfit design and make a mini version of the fit with small pieces of the final material ★- She's got this HUGE shelf on her pad that's got these fashion icon dolls displayed with their name and inspiration on a little plaque ☆- Whenever something significant happens and she doesn't want to paint, she'll hold onto the feeling, good or bad, and jot down an idea for a new doll's look ★- and she DOES truly love each of them - though she may have had to learn to love one in particular

🎀- She picked up the hobby in college (before she met Zuke) but didn't really think anything of it 🌸- It was just a means to practice different makeup looks and pencil techniques without sculpting something - and it was fun! She liked having a cute little gal at the end of the process 🎀- When she came up with the idea of using the dolls as models, she created a doll of herself but made the decision to make its skin completely white 🌸- When Nadia met Zuke, she sort of put the hobby aside to focus on her other art mediums, but she looked at the doll of herself and felt comfortable enough to repaint the right side pink (and she laughed a bit to herself looking at the final result, because it looked... Cute! Just like her other gorgeous dolls...) 🎀- After Rapturica, she didn't feel the need to create a doll based on her feelings as she didn't feel as hurt as she expected, but she did find it really, REALLY hard to look at the doll of herself, so she hid it away... 🎀- she picked up repainting again later but went in HARD - they began to look more artsy and alien, just like her other art pieces 🌸- After graduating she didn't really have time to repaint dolls and focused on creating other arts/music again, only occasionally using them to test outfits (but never the one of herself) 🎀- After the events of NSR though, she picked it up again as a form of self-care. It's something she doesn't have to create for the public eye, and she's rekindled the joy of creating a strange little gal and loving them despite their bizarre quirks. 🌸- ... I think she feels a bit more comfortable looking at the doll of herself now, too.

★- She's probably still got doll repaint videos up on her channel from her college days, hehe. ☆- (She's debating whether or not to make a mini exhibition about the concept of dolls.* Likely not, as she doesn't want to taint the tranquility of the act, but she still likes the idea. It's better to not mix work art with home art, anyway.) (* (How they can reflect their caretaker, they exhibit both confidence and vulnerability, they can be broken and discarded but repaired, they're still images that can be moved in a 3d space however you desire, they rely on a person to actually be 'real' ykyk that kind of thing. the symbolism of dolls.)

The doodle I made in the 3rd picture (above the cut) is inspired by those really pretty doll repaints... I think that that look in particular is one that she tested on a doll first... pre-ugly cry, that is.

Thanks for reading my very silly idea... decorated the bullets with Bows and stars because I felt like it, haha. Have a lovely day~🌸

[listofwhyyouloveher]

Hey, could I request the gang Jealous that their s/o is getting close to one of the other guy in the gang. And keep up the good work 🥰

Summary: The gang getting jealous that you're growing close to others.

Warnings: jealousy

Author's Note: None

PONYBOY looked up to you so much. He loved your ideas and wits and your gorgeous face. He knew you'd be hard to resist. So that's why he got so damn nervous when you stated hanging out around Johnny. He knows that although he and Johnny may seem like he has a lot in common with him, Johnny can be really different. He overthinks everything, wondering if Johnny standing out would make you like him more, or if you're actually spending time with Johnny to get away from Pony. He won't stand up or confront you for it though, he just watches from the sides, a big pout on his lips.

JOHNNY was so scared that Dallas was gonna steal you from him. Dallas was really Johnny's idol, so he thought you'd adore him the way Johnny adored him and leave him. It doesn't help that Dallas is a chronic asshole and will openly try to flirt with you. Sometimes he gets so scared you're going to leave him that he just dissassociates while staring at your face, trying to remember all the details in case you go. He's debating on whether or not to confront Dallas, and he settles on simply telling him to not try anything funny with you. Dallas laughed and said that he was proud of him for sticking up for himself.

SODAPOP is really scared of you falling for Ponyboy. He knows how important it is to have a smart guy with actual potential, especially with someone of your stature. He knows that a drop out who works with cars doesn't exactly fit that standard. He tries so hard to engage with you about school, asking if you need help with academics or anything even though he probably couldn't help you. Your refusal each time makes him feel so bad and seeing you go to Pony for help makes him feel even worse. He starts treating Pony roughly, getting curt and snippy until either you or Pony realize what's going on and explain that you two are just friends.

STEVE is really afraid of losing you to Soda. Soda's a notorious charmer, and he's conventionally attractive, which Steve thinks he isn't. He's still trying to love you normally and doesn't let it affect him but he sometimes thinks that you'd be so much happier with someone like Sodapop. He's actually trying to get closer because of this instead of distancing himself. He wants to see if you'll say something about Soda or him that makes it crystal clear who you really want. That comes in the form of you telling him that you wanted him to come on a special roadtrip with your family rather than telling Soda.

TWO BIT is scared to lose you to Steve. He's trusting of Steve and you but he knows things happen and that one day you might decide Steve is better for you. Two isn't exactly all masculinity, he has to have some softer spots to take care of his sister, but he wonders if you want someone like Steve and that's why you both are hanging out so much. He doesn't think he gets insanely jealous but it drives him nearly crazy thinking of possible situations that could lead to the demise of your relationship with Two. However, he realizes in the moment when you're unmatchably happy is when he's showing you his softer spots and he realizes that you truly love him.

DARRY's been suspicious of you and Two Bit's relationship for a long time. It started around 2 months ago and now you two are always hanging out, secretly giggling and whispering about him. He wouldn't say that it was akin to bullying but rather he felt like it should've been him. He trusts you a lot, and knows that these circumstances shouldn't change that, but he wonders if you'd prefer a guy who could make you cry of laughing than him, he feels boring and not good enough. Until, he comes home on a random day to his suprise party! You explained that you and Two helped structure it and all his worries melted away and he immedietly kissed you.

DALLAS tries to be cocky and arrogant but he knows that he's certainly not the best boyfriend, that you could and SHOULD leave him. Leave him for someone like Darry, who you've been spending time with recently. Darry is hardworking and kind, Dallas is not, and he's stuck in a loop of comparison but he never knows how to act more 'hardworking and kind'. He tries everything, from being ultra nice (to an extent) to being ultra mean, but nothing stops you from chatting and smiling with Darry. He's so insanely jealous that his suspiscions don't even clear up when you tell him that you've been talking because you need him to redo your roof.

[sonotkari]

Meaningless

Hanni Pham x Fem reader

[ Synopsis ]

When, Where, and How did you and Hanni become so close? What was the start of the yapping duo's relationship?

Fluff

[ Word Count ]

1.6k

[ a/n ]

I'm struggling with my other fics so in the meantime I'm dropping this off to feed my children (I'm sorry I just need MORE TIME) This was just something I wrote without my two brain cells actually functioning so heads up for that info! /ᐠ｡ꞈ｡ᐟ\

My dearest and my loved ones dis for u bae <3

Somewhere in your mind, you'd wonder how everything started but never recall the moment. Maybe it was that one time way back in March when she sent you a picture of pudding flavor ice cream because apparently, it reminded her of you. Or maybe it was when you ranted about how you had volleyball practice almost every day with no breaks making you lose your shit soon. The question of how you became so close with Hanni had come up in your mind from time to time but it would always end up with no answer. It's really not that big of a deal, where an answer was needed asap, no, it was like those shower thoughts or maybe those random questions coming up in your head at 3 am while listening to music on your headphones, something like that. Regardless, whatever or however the conversation started, you were very grateful for it because now you have someone on your side who would listen to your random yappings whether it was about that hallway crush or that annoying History teacher who mostly talks about his life rather than teaching the class. 

The memory recalls when that one time she asked about your MBTI which was trending off at that time for who knows why. You did it once before it became popular and didn't think much of it since you never really understood a thing. You just did it anyway because TikTok told you so. So why not? But to think of it now, you made a good life choice of taking a 15-minute survey with just two of your brain cells working. Because now you both were texting each other nonstop knowing you were matching MBTI's with her. "I knew it. You sound like an INFP" "What's that even supposed to mean" And in the very end, Hanni fell asleep in the middle of texting, debating whether fairies are real or not. 

Most of the time the text messages and everything else were random. Except for that one time when she got into a (not so) fight with her best friend, giving her the cold shoulder. It was about something that triggered her which made her feel uneasy. You remember clearly how Hanni had asked you to come to school earlier than you usually did because she wanted company. And how she confessed she wanted to get things back to how it used to be with her best friend while crying on your shoulder in the bathroom. Encouraging her to speak her feelings to her best friend, after some days she was smiling excitedly rushing her way to you, grabbing your arms, saying she finally "did it" telling her best friend how she felt, and now they're back on track. 

In class, she would be seated beside you and always giggle about small little things making you hold on for your dear life to not suddenly burst out laughing in the middle of the session because, for some reason, you were so easily affected by her. Her smile makes you smile, her laugh makes you laugh, and her cheeky grin addressed to you makes you roll your eyes and look at her in a sidelong look with a small smirk on your lips. Others would point out or look at you both with dumbfounded expressions because you both wouldn't stop giggling every 5 minutes and everyone in class already knew whose voices the giggles belonged to because of how frequently it would happen. 

It was before summer break had started and you were ranting at Hanni about how you won't be seeing each other once the break starts. "You'll miss me, right?" became a habit of yours to say in your everyday convos, and her replying with a "Will I tho?" made you smack the girl's arm as a set, and that also became another one of your (bad?) habits. You wanted to squeal and jump around hearing her respond "Of course" to your ask if you could randomly call her because of how you'd probably miss her a lot and feel sad out of the blue due to the lack of her presence. Talking on a call wasn't your thing because you only have two brain cells that don't function well and you left your vocabulary somewhere making you end up in a stuttering mess but, you'd rather be a stuttering mess to Hanni than spend 2 months without hearing her voice. 

One memory from another, you recall another happy moment with her. She was in the cheerleading team and you promised you'd see her cheer on the day of the game but sadly you got a high fever the night before and had to inform her you couldn't get to see her first cheer on her first game. You couldn't help but think about the disappointment in the girl's face especially when she was eager for you to come and watch. The temperature got a bit better the next day and you were debating to yourself. Yes, your head was panging in pain, yes your body was a bit hot, and yes you feel numb moving and basically doing anything. But will it be worth it to bear everything just so you could see Hanni's surprised happy expression when you go and watch her? Oh yes. You know damn well everything's worth it when it's about Hanni. 

There you were in a rushing mess, running around your room while trying to get dressed, finding the other lost pair of socks while holding a cooling gel sheet for your forehead in your hand. Running wasn't good for you since it'll make your temperature go high again but all the rushed efforts will go to waste if you missed it. Is there any other choice? Of course not, silly. By the time you got to the gates of the school, all you could hear was the rhythmical beat of your heart with your panting, trying to calm yourself before you entered the gym. Of course, she was the one who noticed you first. There it was. The face. The expression. The dimples that would show every time she smiled. Excitedly rushing to you and showering you with questions about your fever state. "Weren't you not feeling well? What are you doing here― are you okay? Are you about to pass out?" "I just couldn't miss your cheer. I for sure would've regretted it if I stayed home" Your (maybe not so bad) habit had definitely influenced her as you felt a gentle smack on your arm along with a soft giggle from the girl.

The leaves began to lose their vibrant colors, crisping up and slowly falling down with the cold breeze flowing by in November. You asked Hanni to go out and hang out in this cafe your friend told you that had the best pudding in town, which she happily agreed to, and now both of you were walking in circles at the same place lost. Having no sense of direction and the Google map not being useful at all, you decided to give up going to the place. But someone doesn't seem to be happy about it. "What do you mean, let's go to a different shop?" "No, it's fine we can just go in another time. Besides it's cold and you're not very good with the cold" You looked at the flushed red tip of Hanni's ears and nose as you mumbled. "I'm not giving up. You were so excited about the pudding, so we're going to eat that goddamn pudding" And now you were walking again with Hanni by your side but this time, you were holding hands to "keep me warm if you're that worried" 

"What are you smiling so giddily about?" You snap out of the memories and look at the girl looking at you with concerned looks. "You look creepy to be honest babe..." "Oh shut up" Replying with a playful snicker you stood up from your seat and walked your way to your girlfriend hugging her from the side, resting your chin on her shoulder. "Hey, do you remember how we became friends?" Shifting your gaze to her, slightly tilting your head as you asked so. "Uhh... I don't... think so..." She now looked at you with a puzzled look. "I think we just went with the flow" "Haha, wow I went with the flow and got a girlfriend? Must be a mastermind then" Smackng your arm, Hanni outed a chuckle. "Hey, remember when I used to smack you like that a lot but now we switched positions" "Oh I'm definitely influenced by you. Bad and good" You mocked an offended expression, holding your chest dramatically. "What's that supposed to mean...!?" Hanni laughed again and went back to making her coffee. "I definitely remember that one time you came to see me cheer with a fever" It was your turn to out a chuckle hearing her recall the memory. "Hey how about that one time we went out but then got lost midway?" "Yeah, and you insisted on finding the place, even making excuses to hold my hand" "Aaahhh shush! Shut up! I was 16 leave me alone!!" Hanni sheepishly laughed which made you laugh again as well. 

"We had meaningless conversations all the time, talking about random stuff" Sighing softly as you linger your thoughts about your past friendship with Hanni. "What do you mean, meaningless?" Hanni was now stirring her coffee, blowing it occasionally as she fixed her gaze at you. "All the conversations we had, meant everything to me" She took a sip of her coffee along with a sigh and stared at you again. You could feel the affection from her gaze and can't help but feel your chest get warmer every second with the small smile and the little dimples on her cheeks showing.

Every moment we spent together means more than anything to me than you'll ever know. 

Hanni secretly, quietly thought to her mind, while smiling at the woman she loved most.

yappers falling inlove r so cute

[fanfic-wonderland]

Lifesavers - Coriolanus Snow

Pairing: Coriolanus x Reader

Summary: You and Coriolanus have always competed for the top spot at the Academy. When you were both chosen as mentors for the 10th Hunger Games, your rivalry only increased, the two of you determined to come out as the victor. However, things changed when, while on a tour of the Capitol Arena, bombs began to go off, and you found yourself saving your rival's life while endangering yours.

Word count: 2.7k

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

Coriolanus woke up with a low groan and his back against a hard surface. He blinked through the dark surroundings while sitting up, trying to make sense of where he was and how he got there. It looked like he was in some sort of dark tunnel, but he couldn't catch sight of an exit or anything that indicated he could get out. As he forced his brain to remember what had happened before he blacked out, he heard a sarcastic voice nearby. “Well, good morning, sunshine,”

Snow blinks again when he turned his head in the direction of the voice, and he saw you sitting on the ground, your back against the wall facing him with folded arms. Of course, he thought. "Where are we?" He asked coolly.

“Stuck somewhere at the Capitol Arena,” You replied. “Until someone realizes we're gone, I suppose.”

Coriolanus's expression shifted as the memories from earlier came back to him all at once—the mentors and the tributes touring the arena, him discussing strategies with Lucy Gray… then, the bombing happened. He was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. "How long have we been here?"

You shrugged. “It feels like It's been at least an hour, but who knows.”

"An hour…" He muttered under his breath, frowning. Surely someone must've noticed your absences by now, so what was taking them so long to come back for the two of you? He raised his gaze again, his eyes lingering on your shadowed figure for a few seconds before he spoke again. "And how did we get here?"

You stayed silent for a moment like you were debating whether to answer him or not. Coriolanus began to think you wouldn't say anything until he heard you sigh. "You were lying on the ground, already unconscious, and everyone else was running, so I just…” He heard you shifting slightly, a quiet wince escaping your mouth as you moved. “This was the safest place I could find before a bunch of debris fell and blocked the path.”

"And you... carried me? All the way here?" He asked, his eyes narrowing as he studied you through the dark. He knew that the two of you weren't exactly close and it seemed odd that you would care enough to save him.

You scoffed. "Well, I wasn't just going to let you die. I mean, I know we're not exactly friends, but I'm not evil.”

Coriolanus quirked a brow but said nothing. He hated the fact that it had to be you who had saved him. He focused his eyes on your face, and it was then that he noticed a cut on your forehead. The sight of it annoyed him for some reason, and he scowled. "You're bleeding." He pointed out.

Your fingers reached up to touch where his eyes were staring and, sure enough, you felt the thick liquid on your skin. "It's nothing," you said flatly.

Stubborn as always, Coriolanus thought. He could simply ignore your injury and let you deal with it, or... he could try to be somewhat decent and at least try to help you. You did save his life, after all. "Let me see it," He said after coming to a decision.

"I already told you, It’s nothing—”

"Don't be stubborn," He cut you off, a hint of irritation in his voice. He was suddenly moving closer before you could stop him. He reached with one hand and gently tilted your head, his eyes taking a better look at the cut.

You did your best to avoid eye contact with him, looking anywhere but his face as he examined your wound. "How bad is it, doctor?" You asked sarcastically. 

Your comment earned you a small glare from Coriolanus. Ignoring your attempt at humor, he continued to inspect the cut, his fingers gently hovering over the wound. "It's not too deep," He said, his voice quieter. "But it's still bleeding quite a bit.” His eyes flicked down to your abdominal area, realizing now that you weren't just folding your arms—you had your hand pressed to your right side underneath your uniform jacket. “Are you injured anywhere else?" He asked, his eyes meeting yours.

Your lips formed a straight line. “Why do you even—”

“Are you injured?” He asked again, his tone sharper this time.

You closed your mouth. Instead of replying, you began to remove your jacket defeatedly. The movement hurt like hell, but you managed to slip it out of your shoulders somehow. The side of your shirt had been slightly ripped and was soaked in your blood. Coriolanus's expression hardened as he stared down at it, his jaw clenched. “Why didn't you say anything?”

"Well, there isn't a lot we can do about it if we're stuck in here, can we?" You snapped back.

“Maybe not, but you still should've said something," He retorted, crossing his arms over his chest. Letting out a frustrated sigh, his eyes went back to the injury. “Let me take a look,”

“Why?”

“We might have to apply pressure to it to stop the bleeding,” He said.

You didn't argue with him further, but you were still hesitant as you began to lift the side of your shirt. His eyes widened when he saw the extent of the injury. "This is bad," He muttered under his breath. The sight of the wound made him feel uneasy. He leaned closer to get a better look. "How did it even happen?" 

You shook your head. “I can't even remember. Everything was happening so fast, I…”

You remembered the sound of the screams, the bombs going off, and your heart drumming in your ear. You remembered the smoke and the people running around clouding your vision, but somehow spotting an unconscious Coriolanus with ease. You remembered dragging him to the most secluded corner you could find and debris falling everywhere, nearly crashing the two of you. During all of that, you must've hurt yourself without even feeling anything.

Coriolanus nodded, his eyes still focused on the wound. He could tell that it was pretty deep and that you were in serious pain. He looked back up, his eyes meeting yours. "I need you to trust me on this one," He said, his tone firm. He was not usually the one to take charge in a situation like this, but there was no other choice right now. He had to do something.

And you had no other choice but to trust him. “Okay,”

He was glad that you followed along without trying to argue. There was nothing that he could use to press to your wound, so he took off his jacket instead. “This might hurt,” he warned as he scooted closer to you. 

When you nodded, he slowly pressed the jacket against the wounded area, applying the slightest pressure. You hissed at the contact, pressing your lips together to suppress a scream. You shut your eyes, hands curling into fists. “I know, I know,” Coriolanus said, his voice softer than usual. “But It’s only for a little bit. The bleeding should be slowing down soon.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. You took a few deep breaths, tears brimming in your eyes. You couldn’t remember the last time you experienced anything so painful. Coriolanus couldn’t help but watch you, an odd sensation tugging at him. He didn’t know what came over him, but he suddenly found himself wanting to offer you any sort of comfort. “Do you need to hold on to something?”

You nodded. It was the only thing you could manage. Coriolanus hesitated for a moment before placing his free hand on yours, his fingers firmly wrapped around your hand. If you hadn’t been in so much pain, you would’ve smacked his hand away, but right now, it was your best bet. You squeezed it as tight as you could. He didn’t say anything for a few minutes, letting you focus on the pain. However, he felt the need to distract you, to ease your suffering in any way that he could. “You’re doing good,” He said. “And you’re being surprisingly cooperative as well,”

You let out a weak chuckle, silently appreciating his attempt to distract you. "That's because I have no choice,"

Coriolanus laughed in a silent huff, the faint hint of a smile forming on his lips. "I suppose you’re right." He said. He couldn’t help but notice the slight shift in your voice, and he wondered if you were close to passing out. The thought worried him for a moment. He tried to be more careful with applying pressure against the wound. “Don’t pass out on me,”

You shook your head, although you were starting to feel unsure of how much longer you’d be able to stay awake. Your body was feeling heavier by the minute. Coriolanus seemed to notice. “Talk to me. It’ll keep you awake.”

“Okay, um..." You tried to think of anything to talk about, but your mind was blank. "What do you want to talk about?"

He pondered silently for a few seconds longer before he said the first topic that came to his mind. “Your family.”

You were taken aback by his suggestion. "You want to talk about my family?"

Coriolanus shrugged. “Just thought you’d like to talk about them.”

You blinked at him for a few moments, but eventually, you leaned back against the wall and began to speak. "Well, you already know that my dad is a doctor and my mom is a professor at the University, and, well, you also know I have a younger brother at the Academy," You pause. “Do you remember my older sister?”

“I do,” He nodded. “Tigris and her were friends back when they were still in school.”

You nodded as well. “Well, she got married to an architect, and they recently had a kid.”

Coriolanus’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Did she now? Good for her.”

“Yeah,” You smiled softly. 

His eyes lingered on you for a brief moment before he asked, “What about your brother? What has he been up to?”

“Being annoying, like always,” You replied with a scoff. Coriolanus chuckled. “What about your family? How are they doing?”

His expression faltered for a moment and he dropped his gaze, the question catching him off guard. He rarely spoke to anyone about his family, finding that, in conversations like this, the less attention he brought to the Snow name, the better. But he figured it didn’t matter at the moment. “Well, Tigris works with Fabricia Whatnot now, and the Grandma’am is… well, she’s just being the Grandma’am.”

You let out a laugh, another wave of pain suddenly hitting you. You fought back a wince. “I see. That sounds nice, though.” Coriolanus stayed quiet. It was far from being as nice as it seemed, but he wasn’t going to say that. "What... what else do you want to talk about?" You managed to ask him.

Coriolanus snapped out of his little trance and his eyes darted back to your face. You were growing paler and he could tell that the pain was getting worse. He couldn’t stop himself from squeezing your hand tighter, trying to think of anything to talk about until suddenly, a thought popped into his head. A subject that he wouldn’t normally bring up, but one that seemed fitting in the current situation, somehow. “You know, we’ve been rivals for years now…”

You nodded flatly. “We have,”

“Do you remember the first time we spoke?” He asked you.

You chuckled. That was way back when you two were still kids. "Surprisingly, I do," you said, thinking back to that day. "We were at the school's playground, and you approached me while Lysistrata and I were playing in the swing set. You pointed at a nearby tree and said that my hair looked like the bird's nest on top of it."

A small smirk formed on Coriolanus’s lips as he recalled the memory. “You were crying at the time, if I remember correctly.” He added, his voice slightly teasing.

You couldn’t contain another laughter, even when it sent yet another sharp pain through you. "I was. And then I believe I approached you afterward and pushed you into the sandbox."

Coriolanus laughed as well, his expression amused. “I still remember the sand getting in my eyes.” He said. “You were the first person ever to push me into the sand. I remember being angry at the time, but looking back…it was kind of hilarious.”

"It was," you said. Your eyes began to feel droopy. "We never did get along, did we?"

He noticed how heavy your eyelids looked, his eyes lingering on your face. You looked like you were about to pass out at any moment. “We didn’t,” He finally spoke again, his voice quiet. “But we also never tried to, either.”

You lightly shook your head slightly, tilting it back against the wall. "And now look at us... fighting for our lives together inside an arena... who would've thought..."

Coriolanus hesitated for a moment before he spoke, the words coming out in a soft murmur. “Just try to stay awake, okay? Stay with me a little longer.” 

Your grip on his hand loosened. You heard him speak, but he sounded distant now. He could sense that you were slipping away, and he desperately grabbed your hand again, squeezing it tighter. “No, no, no. Come on, don’t pass out yet. Just keep talking to me, okay?”

You hummed, doing your best to stay awake. "What do I talk about?"

“Anything,” He tried not to sound frantic as he wracked his mind to come up with something to keep you focused, to keep you awake. And suddenly, an idea popped into his head. “Tell me about your favorite childhood memory,”

You smiled faintly. "My favorite childhood memory..." You said, talking and blinking slowly. "It was probably when my parents took me and my siblings to the fair for the first time. You remember the fair?"

Coriolanus nodded quickly. He remembered the fair all too well - the colorful lights, the laughter and joyful screams of the people around him, the sweet smell of cotton candy, and the sound of the calliope in the background. “I remember.” He said, desperate to keep you talking. “So, you liked the fair?”

"It was my favorite place in the world back then. My sister and I rode nearly all of the rides, and I remember my brother crying because he still couldn't get into a lot of them..." You swallowed, struggling to continue. "I remember my dad buying us candy apples and popcorn and lemonade. Everything tasted like what I imagined heaven felt like as a child…"

Coriolanus listened to your words, the ghost of a smile appearing on his face. “That all sounds incredible,” he said.

“It was,” You agreed before letting out a long sigh. “I’m tired…”

His smile vanished and his eyes widened at your words, panic spiking within him once more. “No,” The hand holding the jacket against your wound went up to grip yours. “No, you can’t fall asleep yet. Just stay awake a little longer, okay?” You tried to speak, but it was like you couldn’t move your lips anymore. It was getting harder to keep your eyes open. "Stay awake, come on..."

In a moment of desperation, Coriolanus brought your intertwined hands to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss onto your knuckles, his eyes never leaving your face. He was the last thing you saw before your eyes gave up and closed completely. 

Coriolanus’s heart sank to his stomach. No no no…. He reached out to lightly shake your shoulder, trying to get a response from you, but nothing happened. You were completely unconscious now, and his mind was overwhelmed with panic and worry. You couldn’t die here. Not like this…

A low rumbling sound came from the large pile of debris blocking their path and his head snapped up, his eyes searching around quickly. In one moment, the pile collapsed, clearing out the exit, and a group of Peacekeepers walked in. They looked around the room with their flashlights until they spotted you and him on the ground. Coriolanus turned back to you as he heard them approach the two of you. Two of them helped him up while a third one crouched down next to you to check your pulse. After a moment, he turned to the others. "She's still breathing," he announced. “But we need to take her to get checked out right away, or else she won't make it.”

He could feel the relief and adrenaline coursing through his body as the Peacekeeper lifted you. You’re still alive. You’re alive.

[seoksgrl]

rather be dead than cool, 1 : jjk nerd!jungkook x popular!reader college au, dislike to love genderbent shes all that au

tws: some slight bullying (?), rich people being rich people

m.list

next

One thing could be said for you, and that is that you’re an overachiever. You set your goals way too high (some might say) and then struggle to reach them (also up for debate). 

Since you were a youngster clicking around the nursery yard in baby Gucci from head to toe, you’ve always known you were destined for greater things than the bumbling little town you happened to be born in. If it weren’t for your father building a large technology empire in your formative years, perhaps you would have turned out differently. But he raised you to work hard and to take everyone you know with a pinch of salt. 

High school had been a breeze, popularity and good genes meant you had many friends, but your father always reminded you that people could be bought. They always needed something from you, whether it be an elevation in social status or just a bite of your granola bar, your friends had motives. And you respected them when you were upfront about it.

As expected, you got straight A’s, entered one of the top colleges and built an appropriate social circle. Some call you conceited, shallow, rude - you’re just you. If they don’t like it, you don’t waste any more of your time. People didn’t affect you as much as they did your friends, especially boyfriends. You’d grown up with the knowledge your father instilled in you, meaning that when Park Jimin ended things with you, there wasn’t a tear spilled or an ounce of makeup smudged. 

Jimin had been your boyfriend for the longest of the guys you dated in college - lasting a whole year, in fact. He was good for your popularity, something you’ve grown to enjoy. Why feel bad for taking advantage of something you have no control over? You dated him, now you don’t. You can easily move on and find someone else, or not. You’re well aware of the fact you don’t need anyone. 

Your friends don’t think the same way, however. 

“Oh my god!” Irene gasps, her dainty, ring-adorned hand falls on the shoulder of your Prada sweater and you resist the urge to shrug it off. After all, a snag would just be inconvenient, and those rings house many gaudy diamonds, “Are you okay?”

The question isn’t surprising to you - people have asked you every time you’ve had a break up. The answer is always the same.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Mina’s brows pull together, and you wonder if she waxed them herself. They’re looking uneven, “Well, you guys were together for so long. I mean...did he dump you?”

You shrug, scrolling through Instagram, mainly Jimin’s posts from Spring Break are all that clog your feed. He ended - you both ended things a week before he left. You pause momentarily on a photo of him with what appears to be a cheerleader and close the app. 

“It was mutual,” You check over your acrylics, happy with the peach colour. It matches perfectly with your purse, “I’m good. Really,”

Mina and Irene don’t look convinced, though you truly do feel okay. It wasn’t like you were in love with Jimin or anything - you’d said it to each other, but really, how do you know when you’re in love. Nobody tells you how you’re supposed to feel. Jimin had said it, and so you replied with the same. You had your own way of knowing you didn’t feel much more for Jimin beyond simply liking him, and it was the same measure you used for all friendships and relationships. 

If you were planning to go to the movies, would you want to go with Jimin, or go alone?

The answer had always been alone. Jimin was a talker - he didn’t really watch the movie, and the couple times the two of you had chilled at his place with the TV on, he’d texted or tried to initiate sex with you. The idea of Jimin texting in the movie theatre made you irrationally angry. And so, you always went alone. 

“Jimin was cute,” Mina says suddenly, as if she had thought about it for some time, “You two were like...the It couple. You know?”

It wasn’t a secret to you that your relationship with Jimin had caught some attention in the social circles on campus. Things in a prestigious school such as Yonsei University worked a lot like high school - there are still the familiar cliques you would expect, and as such, you are known as one of the most popular individuals on campus. Popular and well-liked are not, as most might believe, mutually exclusive. You’re aware that some people dislike you, but it’s hard to care. How can they dislike you without knowing you?

“I mean,” You laugh, brushing away a stray hair from your bangs, “Jimin only got popular after we started dating,” And it was true. You would never lie about such a thing, “I feel like I could date anyone and we could become the It couple on campus. Almost everyone we know is single,”

Mina scoffs, a rice cake inches from her lips, “I could date, I just choose not to,”

Irene is the next to speak, her attention moving from your friend to you, “So, what are you saying? You made Jimin the man he is today?” She speaks through her laughter, but you don’t know why. It’s the truth - and you’re not even trying to be up your own ass about it either. 

“Yeah,” You reply, short and sweet, “Making a guy into high class material isn’t difficult. Men are pliable, like clay. You just mould them into what you need,”

Before you and Jimin became official, he was cute. But he wasn’t the kind of cute you would usually date. There was something inside you that yearned for a challenge, something to occupy your time. Doing well on assignments and quizzes was too easy for you. Thanks to your father’s money, he’d bought you the best tutor available to you and so you’re always pretty clued up on what you need to know in class before the semesters begin. 

“You know what,” Irene adjusts her bag on her shoulder, settling herself on the bench beside you. Class is in ten minutes, and you should really start walking, but before you can suggest it, her hand is diving inside her purse and pulling out a cheque book. It has daisies on the pages, and from what you can tell, it’s new, “My dad has lowered my allowance after I put a dent in his Jag. I could use some extra money,” Her smile turns devious, a little like when you were in high school and she confessed to shoplifting a jacket she was wearing, “How about we make this interesting, since you’re so confident?”

Mina is standing in front of the two of you now, cheeks stuffed full with rice cake and she bundles the wrapper in her fist, listening intently. 

You’re not just confident - you’re stubborn. And it was this, you would later realise, that would be your downfall, “Go on,”

“You have until the spring formal,�� Irene writes on the cheque, her handwriting flows smoothly, little hearts adorning the i’s, “to turn some random dude into the newest campus hot boy,”

You chuckle, lips preparing to speak before Irene shushes you with the pen.

“To make this a fair bet, Mina will choose the guy,”

Irene wasn’t wrong, you were confident. So confident in fact that the concept of Mina choosing the guy you had to reinvent didn’t phase you at all. In fact, the fire of a new challenge began to build in your gut, and so you agreed, without even knowing what the prize would be. 

“If you win,” Irene speaks, “you get my car,”

Irene’s car is gorgeous, a white Porsche that her father had custom made for her twentieth birthday. Nobody else has anything like it in the world, let alone on campus. The idea of having it for yourself is more than appealing, “And if you win?” 

You raise your brow, waiting for Irene’s answer and fully expecting what you hear fall from her lips, “I get your Tiffany bangle,”

Irene had her eyes on your most prized piece of jewellery ever since you stepped on campus with it after Christmas with your grandma in Paris. Like the Porsche, the bangle was also custom made, and you believed it was probably worth just as much. Confident in your ability to create a new campus It boy, you agree. 

“Great,” Irene smirks, “If this guy doesn’t win Spring King at the formal, we’ll consider it as your loss. Happy with those terms?”

Anyone could win that plastic crown, you’re absolutely sure of it, and so you raise your manicured hand and shake it with that of your friend, sealing the deal and leaving the next part of the bet in the hands of Mina, who stands watching the whole exchange. 

The three of you agree to meet after class, during the free period you all share just after lunch. Your morning passes without issue, mostly because you had already read the book you’re studying during the summer. Now halfway through your senior year, it’s imperative that you remain on top of your game, but with your extra tutoring and excellent average, you have a feeling that would be straight forward. 

By the time you meet up with Mina and Irene again, Mina’s hair is just beginning to fluff up thanks to the humidity carried by the change in season. Spring is slowly morphing into summer, and the grass is at its greenest. As the other students laze about in the April sunshine, you and the girls seat beneath the shade of an old oak with rough bark and thick, flat leaves to shield you all from the rising temperature. 

“Mina thinks she may have found the perfect candidate for our little bet,” Irene begins, luxuriating on the grass, combing the long, black tresses of her hair with her fingers. Mina nods, halfway through braiding her own hair in an effort to quell its frizz, “If you manage to pull this one off, I’ll be very impressed,”

Mina finishes her work, letting her long braid hang over her shoulder before she crosses her legs, leaning forward to speak directly to you, “On my way to chem, I saw the Jeon boy,”

“Jeon?” The name rings a bell, perhaps from high school or middle school, but you can’t think of who Mina could be talking about off the top of your head, “Who is that?”

“Jeon Jeongguk,” She clarifies, “He’s in my art class - a photography major as far as I can tell. He takes fine art as a minor,”

“Do you have a picture? I’d like to at least know what I’m working with here,”

Mina pulls her cell out, just as Irene sits up, looking over your shoulder with a sly grin, “Looks like he heard you. He’s walking over there,”

What you expect to see, you aren’t quite sure. In your mind you’d pictured someone a little more...rough around the edges. Jeon Jeongguk is rough, definitely, but he seems to have a strange, delicate aura about him. From what you can make out as he walks across the back towards the library, he has long, dark hair - gathered up in a rushed pony that springs out the back of his head. He keeps his head down as he walks, clad in oversized sweats and a matching sweater, large backpack over one shoulder. He doesn’t look at anyone as he passes them, and it’s only when he looks up at the library that you see the white wire of his earphones swing into sight. 

From this distance, you can’t exactly know for sure, but you can already think of a few pointers regarding his style. The blank, unapproachable expression on his face intrigues you, and there’s that nagging sense of challenge within you that wants to get through to him. To do that, you will have to plan an approach. 

“What do you think?” Irene asks, and you turn back to your friends just as Jeongguk disappears into the building, “I did a little digging with some of the students in my class. He’s a loner from what I hear - a virgin. An excellent canvas,” 

With a shrug, you pop a raspberry into your mouth from the bento box sitting in your lap, “Doesn’t seem like too much work,” You grin, firmly confident in your abilities. The desire to prove yourself wins over everything else, and you continue with lunch, mentally planning a way to turn Jeongguk from loner to It boy in six weeks. 

What you’re doing right now isn’t exactly stalking, more like research. Shades perched on the bridge of your nose, you peek over them to where the Jeon boy is sitting; the target of your bet with Irene. The very same guy who will win you that Porsche. 

It’s a mere twenty-four hours since Irene proposed this bet, and you’ve skipped labs solely to begin your job as soon as possible, paying a girl to take notes for you and cover should your professor ask questions about your absence. No middle aged man can compete against a good menstrual cramp story. During said time, a half hour so far, you’ve learned some small things about Jeon Jeongguk. His hair looks damaged, grown out far too long and unkept for his face shape - a face shape that is, surprisingly, not bad. From this distance anyway. Said hair is currently hanging around his face, like a curtain, shielding him off from the world. He’d stayed like that for some time, and until a familiar student in junior year walked by, you hadn’t thought much of it. 

But then, something peculiar and, quite frankly, hard to watch happened. Jeon Jeongguk, famed loner of Yonsei’s esteemed campus, stood up and attempted to talk to the girl. As you’d lowered your shades, her face came into focus and you recognised her from one of the christmas parties you’d attended. Sana, her name was - very pretty, very shy. Though, from what you witnessed, not shy enough to shut Jeongguk down. 

And now here you are, almost fifteen minutes since the whole embarrassing affair happened, and Jeongguk successfully retreated once Sana left, crouching on the grass in a shady corner by the arts building, scribbling in a notebook. He hasn’t moved an inch since. 

You grin to yourself, going over the miniscule events over the past forty five minutes staring - no, observing Jeongguk, realising this is your in. This is how you’re going to get this guy to agree to the makeover of his college career. Everyone wins; you win your bet, and the chance to retain your impeccable track record, and Jeongguk gets the girl. Nobody will be able to resist Jeon Jeongguk when you’re done with him. As much as you hate to admit it, he’s not totally hopeless.

One thing your friends don’t know is that Jeongguk isn’t all that bad. Minus the overalls, haphazard man-bun and a complete lack of social skills. Okay, so he won’t turn into a stud overnight - so what? Hard work births the best results and at least you have a starting point: the guy’s tall. You know you can make this work.

You have no issues with approaching Jeon, sashaying over the patch of grass between you until you’re all but casting a shadow on his notebook. There’s some faint scratches of black, rushed and wild on the page, though he snatches it away before you can really see what it is, glancing up at you beneath his hand, shielding his hands from the final bursts of winter sunshine. 

He doesn’t respond to your outstretched hand, and upon further inspection, you note the ink staining his knuckles and digits, thinking better of your introduction and letting your hand fall back to your side. 

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” You grin brightly, a smile that has won you many a debate, “Y/N,”

“I know who you are,” Is all he says before he’s looking back down at his notebook, flipping it closed with a finality that indicates he believes your interaction is over. You frown. Jeongguk stands, and you realise how right you were about his height. The guy towers over you, enough so that now the roles are reversed, and you are the one shielding your eyes from the bright sky. 

“You do? I can’t say I’m surprised,” You reply, winning smile fixed back on your lips, your resolve as hard as steel, “I’m head of student government,”

Jeongguk doesn’t reply to that, he just gives you a weary once over and starts walking. Very rude, you can’t help but think. Though you won’t be deterred - you have a bet to win, after all. Your legs carry you across the grass, working a little harder in an effort to catch up with Jeon’s strides. He seems eager to get away from you, and that only makes you more determined to win him over. 

“I would have thought you’d welcome some social interaction,” You huff out, almost out of breath as you shuffle behind Jeongguk, his broad shoulders hunched as he approaches the sidewalk, heading to one of the buildings close to the science block. If your professor sees that you skipped class to talk to some guy, Jeon Jeongguk no less, you will be in danger of damaging your flawless reputation. 

Jeongguk scoffs at your words, though you barely hear it above the sound of your own breathing, and he leaves you no choice but to bring out the big guns earlier than planned.

“I noticed you were talking to my friend, Sana,”

He stops in his tracks, a great sigh heaving from his massive shoulders, and he turns, facing you with a look of trepidation and curiosity. His eyes are impossibly big, like really - you can’t believe someone can have such huge, doe-like eyes. He looks down at you, almost through you, and it has you blinking away for a moment. 

“You...know Sana?” He asks, his voice full to the brim with weariness, and you almost feel sorry for the guy. But, you’re not that nice of a person. 

“I do,” You smile, hiding the fact your lungs ache for you to take a full breath. It’s a lie, but only a little one. You’re the most popular girl on campus, Sana knows who you are. “I noticed you guys talking earlier,”

At this, he blushes, a faint bloom of red in his cheeks that looks so out of place on a face that was almost scowling at you moments prior. He clears his throat, apparently reigning in any outward evidence of his crush, fixing you with a confused frown, “You noticed?”

Fuck. “I was in the area. You don’t own the quad you know,”

You escape his scrutiny, just barely, and he lands another question on you. His hesitation isn’t surprising to you - after all, this morning you didn’t know this guy existed, you can’t blame him for being suspicious about someone suddenly prying into his life. But you’re stubborn, and eager to win. Your competitiveness can get you into the strangest situations if you let it, so when Jeongguk asks why you’re interested in him and Sana (or the absence of him and Sana), you know exactly what to say. 

“Well, I know Sana,” As you have said, despite it being a lie, “and if you wanna get her attention, you’re not gonna do it looking the way you do,”

His frown is back again, and he almost resembles a kicked puppy. 

“The template is fine. Basically, you just need some new clothes, a hair change. I can help - I like seeing my friends happy, and you don’t seem like an axe murderer or anything,” You flash him your winning smile again, and this time, it seems to be well-received, “Let me help. I’m acing all my classes, please give me something to do. I’m bored,”

He shoots you a look of mild bewilderment before he considers your proposal, still hesitant. Though, he glances behind you, eyes lighting up and you follow his line of sight towards where the girl in question stands, sitting with her friends. Sana is completely unaware of the way Jeongguk stares after her like a hungry mouse, innocence playing across his features, and you wonder if he’s as pure deep down in his soul as Irene implied. There’s a softness to him that continues to intrigue you the longer you stand here, watching him pine after his crush, and you’re only awoken from your inner thoughts when Jeongguk’s eyes meet yours, a little too wide having found you already watching him. 

“Okay,” He says, eyes once more finding Sana in the background, “I’ll let you help me,”

[hawkinsschoolcounselor]

Mike and El's relationship is based on a lie.

Ok, that might be an exaggeration.

Mike and El's relationship is currently based on a lie.

Throughout season 4, it became obvious that Mike and El were not on the same page. El desperately wanted Mike to tell her he loves her, but he couldn't. He couldn't even write it. El made it very clear what she wanted, dare I say needed, from him. Despite this, Mike was still unable to say it.

The whole thing was heading towards collapse. Mike insisted that she was a superhero, which she didn't accept because her powers were gone. Indeed, she saw herself as a monster. When she had an opportunity to get her powers back, she mentioned in her note to Mike that she was going to be a superhero again. Whether you see that as a snide reminder that his interest in her was superficial or as her genuinely wanted to see herself as worthy of him again is up to you.

However, while she's away, El learns from Brenner that monsters and superheroes are fairy tale things. She needs to accept herself for who she was, fully, the good and bad. It's similar to Max's advice that she needed to figure out what she liked, who she was. To paraphrase Sam Wilson from Marvel, Brenner was out of line, but he was right. El wanting to get her powers back so she could be a superhero again is a childish idea. Those powers are just a fragment of who she is.

El does seem to come around on this as she faces her past. She accepts her past, her mistakes, and, in doing so, she suddenly has her powers back. She's ready to face things as a complete person.

Meanwhile, in the van, the lie that sets up the lie is laid down. Mike is feeling inadequate as a love interest for El. She has powers, so what does she need him for? He seems to believe El only keeps him around because she needs him. That's not love, however it hits Will hard to hear Mike put himself down. He gives Mike the painting, briefly glowing at Mike's giddiness when he sees it. However, he quickly swallows it down, remembering why he decided to do this now. He immediately credits El for the painting, telling him she requested it.

Will proceeds to tell Mike how important he is, and how hard it's been to be away from him. He tells him he's the heart, inspiring everyone to keep going no matter what happens. Mike is entranced by Will's words, seemingly ready to burst with affection in a way we've never seen before. However, Will is careful to make sure he credits it all to El, even though it's coming from his own feelings. He caps it off by telling Mike that El needs him, and she always will.

Fast forward to the pizza place. El seems ready to talk to Mike about something serious. She has a sad look on her face. It's certainly not the look one makes when they're reuniting with their boyfriend. It's not the way your face looks when you're expecting a happy conversation. Mike, on his part, seems worried, probably because Will led him to believe that El still needs him. I've looked at this scene time and time again, and it really looks like a gentle breakup is coming.

However, Argyle conveniently shows up to prevent the conversation from happening. Next thing we know, it's time to start the mission.

It quickly goes south. El is struggling and helpless, and the heroes in the real world are at a loss as to what to do. Nothing they say or do seems to have an effect.

Will reminds Mike that he's the heart, calling back to what he said in the van. It's a reminder of the lie that El needs Mike. So, he decides to do what she's begged him to do. However, the look on his face right before he does so is curious. Desperate situation aside, he seems pained to say it. He gets a look on his face right before that seems like he's bracing himself, like he knows he's about to do something wrong. Like it's something he knows he shouldn't do, but must do anyway.

He does it because he thinks she needs it.

It's debatable if it even helps. El does seem overcome with emotion, but it doesn't seem to help her free herself. That doesn't come until she sees Max about to die at Henry's hands, when Mike urges her to fight back. Then she's able to free herself, stop Henry, and, at least partially, save Max.

However, the lie has been laid, and it now ties them together. In a cruel twist, it's their compassion for each other that ensures the lie stays in place. Will's lie may have put this into motion, but Mike and El fell into their own lies out of concern for each other. Mike feels that El needs him, so he'll maintain the lie to avoid hurting her. El believes Mike loves her, so she'll maintain the lie to avoid hurting him.

I imagine that in season 5 we will see Mike and El going through the motions. It won't be a bad relationship, perse, like we've seen from them in the past two seasons. It may instead be more of an empty relationship, similar to Ted and Karen, except with a clear undertone of platonic affection. With Max out of commission, she's not around to point out how fucked up this whole situation is or encourage El to further explore her identity. Meanwhile, Will, the selfless idiot, will no doubt continue to quell Mike's concerns and work to keep this relationship together.

On a show that claims that "friends don't lie," it stands to reason that this lie will be revealed. Honestly, if they stay together past any time jump, it will already beg the question of how did the painting never come up? That right there changes everything since the painting and Will's words set everything into motion in the first place.

If I were writing the show, I would have all this happen in episode 1. Mike brings up the painting with El, only for her to reveal she knew nothing about it. He ruminates over it, wondering what it all must mean, but then plot happens and he's separated from El and forced to spend a lot of time with the person who lied to him. The person he thought would never lie to him.

They are forced to either talk about it or do increasingly impressive conversational gymnastics to avoid talking about it.

Meanwhile, it begins to become obvious to even the least insightful viewer that Mike's anger over the lie isn't simply because Will may have ruined his relationship with El. Because he'll realize that he's been lying, too. So has El.

The truth shall set them all free.

[avinwrites]

Glimmers of Gratitude || Norton x reader

Synopsis: You've become close with Norton Campbell despite his erratic behavior. On a particularly bad day, you have something that cheers him up!

Norton… scares you a little bit. He always has this distant, unpleasant look on his face, and while he isn’t directly mean to anyone, he seems annoyed at all times. Despite this, you’ve had good conversations with him. Mostly just pleasantries that happen to evolve into real discussions, such as asking him how his day has been and you end up talking about good and bad experiences for what feels like hours. You naturally get along with him, and you can both appreciate that. Occasionally, he’ll become distant towards you, almost out of nowhere. His temper is somewhat unpredictable, but you make it through with some effort on your part. Right now, however, he seems to be in one of his moods. 

He hasn’t talked to you all morning. Even when you waved, sat next to him, asked him how he slept, nothing. You were going to keep at it, you get the feeling that he’s having a rough time and you want to help him through it, but you had to participate in a match. During this match, thankfully, you were left alone to decode. While moving from one cipher to another, you caught something shining on the ground, a very interesting looking rock. When you first pick it up, it’s unassuming, like a normal rock, but once you shine it in the light, you see specks of gold and green and yellow, that just leave you in awe. It reminds you of a certain pair of eyes.

When you get back from that match, without thinking, you go to knock on his door, eager to show him the acquisition you are oh so proud of. It takes him a long time to answer the door after you knock, so long that you think he’s elsewhere, but, slowly, the door creaks open to reveal Norton with horrid posture and eye bags as dark as his mental state. You look from his face to behind him for a short moment, debating with yourself whether or not to leave him alone, but you really can’t stand to see him in this kind of shape, and your will to make him feel better overpowers your dread of making him feel worse. You stand there, silent for an uncomfortable period of time. 

“I wanted to ask you a question, but I get it if you aren’t in the mood to talk.” You start, having difficulty making eye contact with him.

Wordlessly, he opens his door wider to invite you in, shrugging in the process. From your pocket, you fish out the small, unassuming rock you found earlier, taking his hand and placing it gently on his palm. 

“Look.” You tell him, shining a light on the rock to show him the dazzling sparkles deep within it. He watches with you, paying close attention as you show him all the interesting spots you found.

“You had a question?” He finally responds, whilst taking a closer look at your finding.

“Oh, right, I was going to ask you if you knew what it was.”

“Looks to me like Bornite.” He says, matter-of-factly. You weren’t expecting the quick answer. You watch as he closely inspects the mineral and continues. “It’s commonly found in copper mines, but it's not a rare ore. I used to see it a lot…” He trails off, lost in his thoughts once again.

You take a deep breath before taking his hands in yours. You’re determined to boost his spirits at least a little.

“I saw the gold and the green, and the way that it seemed to shine… the first thing that came to my mind was your eyes. Seeing them next to the rock… your eyes are prettier.” You pause before your attempt at flirtation, not knowing how he’ll take it. 

At first, the silence was deafening. You feel like you just made a horrible mistake, like you had poked the ever-volatile bear, but after what felt like a long time, only a few seconds in reality, you notice the beginnings of a bright red spread across his face. He’s stunned. Then, he does the unexpected. He smiles at you. 

“Thanks.” That soft grin widens slightly. His singular word seems to have more application than just one. As if to say: thanks for the compliment, thanks for the gift, thank you for noticing me, and thank you for your comfort.

“Anytime.” You reply with a smile of your own, reciprocating each appreciation with an acknowledgement of your own. 

Maybe you could have said more; maybe you should have. But for now, just being in his presence, both smiling and happy, is enough. There would be plenty of time and opportunity to talk further, but right now, words aren’t needed when you can see his eyes, sparkling just for you.

[psychologicalwarclaire]

10 for Rise. Gimme warcrimes duo >:]

Donnie didn't realize just how much Witchtown hated him until he wound up in front of the majority of the town at Hidden City court.

Witches of all kinds shouted over each other, listing crimes that Donnie most definitely had NOT committed.

"--trampled my mushrooms!"

"--released the kraken into our town fountain!"

"--totally demolished my self esteem!"

"--ATE MY CAT!!!"

"-- and destroyed the statue of our great founder!"

Okay that one he actually had done. In his defense, he hadn't meant to blast it with his tech bo. Defense, however, was something he was missing.

He glanced over at the judge. "I don't know how Hidden City trials work but isn't there supposed to be someone on my side? I mean, ahem, with my superb knowledge of everything I could absolutely provide my own defense but, uhm..." I don't really want to do this all on my own, he finished in his head.

All of Donnie's knowledge of courtroom proceedings came from a show he and Raph used to watch together. Raph loved watching the good guys solve crimes and fight bad guys. Donnie loved the mysteries and collection of evidence. Neither of them found the legal stuff super interesting, so they'd discussed the real life logistics of the crime (whether Donnie could commit it, whether Raph could catch him, and how they'd avoid getting caught) during those scenes. Donnie wished he'd payed more attention.

The doors flew open with a BANG.

"PURPLE TURTLE!" Casey Jones yelled. "I AM HERE TO PROVE YOUR INNOCENCE!"

Donnie blinked.

The jury all looked at each other like she'd made a brilliant point, muttering and nodding along.

The judge stroked his beard. "Good entrance. One point to the defense."

There were very few times that Donnie didn't have at least SOME idea of what was happening. Now was, unfortunately, one of those times.

Casey seemed to appear right next to him. "SO! Got yourself in trouble with Witchtown, eh?"

Flustered, Donnie could only think to say, "I didn't do it! Their accusations are entirely--"

"HEY! That's MY job!" She cleared her throat. "As I was saying, Witchtown is tough, but I'm tougher! You're lucky I took this case, otherwise you would already be rotting in Hidden City prison."

"I-- Casey why are you a lawyer in the Hidden City?" Things were spiraling entirely out of control.

Casey grinned her insane grin. "I love yelling, fighting, arguing, squabbling, debating, etc. Passing the exam was super easy, too! The laws here aren't any more complicated than the Foot Clan laws. You know, normally I'm on the offensive. But I am Hamato Clan now! I WILL NOT BETRAY MY CLAN!"

Donnie couldn't help but be impressed. "Huh. What a strangely fitting career choice for you."

"INDEED! And the lawyer to politician pipeline is extremely fast. I shall build my way up to becoming a mayor, senator, and eventually I shall be the PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES! Junior has already signed on to be my vice president. Our slogan is either going to be: 'Jones and Jones: we'll feast on your bones' OR 'Vote Jones squared and your lives will be spared'. Catchy right?"

Donnie's mind was already buzzing with how his Genius Built brand could be expanded by personally knowing the president. "Casey," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder, "I will personally help fund your presidential campaign."

"Excellent! Now, we are in the middle of court so we can discuss that later."

"Oh yeah." Donnie had actually forgotten that he was literally on trial. Casey has the effect of being extremely distracting. "I need to tell you my alibi and--"

"Pffft, no need. What kind of court do you think this is?" Casey cracked her neck, and stretched her arms above her head.

The judge banged his gavel, which sent a shockwave across the room. The ground rumbled and the seats all slid back to open up a wide space in front of the stand. "We are now in session. Let prosecutor Gilby Gilbert of Witchtown and defendant Casey Jones of the Hamato Clan enter the ring."

The what?!

Gilby Gilbert, whom Donnie vaguely recognized from the Witchtown episode leapt into the ring. "That turtle is GUILTY!"

With a running leap, Casey Jones flipped into the ring and kicked him squarely in the chest. "Mr Hamato is more innocent than you and your corrupted, black market, embezzling town will ever be!"

The jury gasped.

"Flair, solid hit, AND a plot twist! Three more points to the defense!" the judge ruled.

Donnie was now very glad he had not been the one to plead (punch?) his own case.

"Turtle boy is against everything we stand for!" Gilby choked from inside a headlock.

"Since your treasury records show illegal trade with criminals AND many Witchtown officials who have been pocketing those funds, I'd say it's a good thing that Mr Hamato stands against you, you LOWLIFE!" Casey released the headlock, only to kick her opponent to the ground and curb stomp him.

Donnie was no longer worried.

In fact, as he watched Casey continue to kick Gilby (who had curled into a ball), he actually smiled. Perhaps the answer to science vs magic was brute force.

He had decided that when this trial was over and he and Casey had officially won, he was going to make her a fashionable Genius Built lawyer suit. He'd make it easily torn away to give her more points in style.

It was the least he could do.

[claiestve]

𝐌𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 ꨄ Alex

˜”* ❝𝙄 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙢𝙚, 𝙄'𝙢 𝙨𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙮.❞

⎯⎯ ୨ ୧ ⎯⎯

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ꜰɪɴᴀʟ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴇ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ʙᴇ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ & ᴛʜᴇ ᴇxɪᴛ

⎯୨⎯ " " ⎯୧⎯

“What do you mean?” 

Honestly, you didn’t know what happened. It seemed like, at that moment, your conscience took over. You still debated whether this was a good decision, but no matter what, you could never change the answer. It wasn’t like a ‘good or bad’ thing, but rather a right or wrong. And which one did this fall under?

“[name]! I didn’t mean it like that. I just wanted to be considerate of your feelings.”

“You always say that, Alex. You always say your decisions are made to better both of us. It’s like you think you’re my guardian angel or something.”

“I’m not implying that at all.”

That was such a lie and you knew it. Alex always made a point to be the ‘humble’ one who cared for you more than himself. Your friends used to ask you how you found someone so caring like him. It wasn’t a complete facade but it was an exaggeration. 

He could sit in front of your face all day and pretend he was always right. Not a liar just stubborn. 

“What would I do without you?” You mocked his tone, “I didn’t ask for you to be considerate of my feelings, Alex. Lord knows if I wanted that, I wouldn’t ask to talk to you and catch up.”

“Look, it’s clear there’s still animosity and I don’t want to make this tension worse.”

“Alex, there’s no tension. I’m just trying to make myself clear. Now, can you answer to my request?”

He sighed, looking around. You didn’t know exactly what he was looking at or for and you didn’t like that it wasn’t you. Even when you were right in front of him, practically begging for an answer, he didn’t want to give you that attention. 

Often, you thought about it but you never saw it. How different you two were. Sometimes you’d ask yourself where everything went wrong but you knew exactly where it all went wrong. It was sad though, seeing how you went from being so in love to now standing in front of him getting ticked off by every move he makes. 

“That’s… fine. We can catch up,” He cleared his throat, “I am quite interested in what you’ve been up to recently.”

You smiled at his attempt to lighten the mood. It was the least he could do.\

“Great, let’s walk around.” 

You smiled at him. It was partially fake. You weren’t exactly happy at the moment but you weren’t upset either.  

“So, how have you been? Have you been making a name for yourself in The Big Apple?”

“Well… it’s been great. I mean, the projects I’ve had the privilege to work on have been amazing and I’ve been accompanied by so many amazing people too. I miss home a lot though… and you.”

The last words made you stop. You didn’t need to hear them at all. Maybe if this was months ago when you were still thinking about him every night, but you were healed now. There was no longer a desire to see him or know how he was. 

There were days you couldn’t even get out of bed because all you could think about was him. For a while, it felt like he was a resident in your mind. You never thought you’d be okay after the break up so when you were, it gave you a new kind of confidence. However, hearing him say he missed you shattered your heart. Maybe because you lived partly in the dark after him. 

“Um,” He tried to refocus the conversation, “How has being a lawyer been?”

“It’s been good. I can’t talk about much, but even if I could, it wouldn’t sound nearly as interesting as your whole photography thing.”

He nodded, looking at you expectantly. Like he wanted you to comment on him missing you. Possibly wanting a reciprocation. 

“I didn’t know you missed me.”

“It’s hard not to. You were my everything outside of my career. You meant– you mean so much to me so it’s not exactly easy to let go.”

“I get that.”

He scoffed at that. It felt like he was disappointed with your responses because he wasn’t getting proper validation. He wanted you to want him. Alex loved the way you loved him so what happens when you no longer do?

“I mean, [name], c’mon. You can’t act so nonchalant about this. You hear me, right? I’ve been telling you I miss you and all you can say is ‘I get that’.”

“What? Do you want me to tell you that I missed you too? I did but that’s in the past, Alex. That breakup really fucked me up. I wish you knew how bad it actually was. My existence doesn’t revolve around the love we once had for each other.”

“I still love you. I don’t get why you insist on putting us in the past!”

“Because, Alex!” You start to match his tone, getting as loud as him, “You may love me and I promise I love you too, and I always will but I am not in love with you. There’s a difference. I don’t want to relive that pain so yes, we are in the past so I can heal in the present!”

You stop walking and look at him, deep in his eyes. Seeing him nearly beg for you to run back to him made you feel betrayed. 

“I have taken time to heal which is why I thought we could have this conversation but I was clearly wrong. I hope you can do the same, Alex. Trust me, you’ll be so much happier once you leave our relationship in the past.”

You tried to walk away before feeling a firm grip on your wrist. 

“You can’t just walk away, [name]! Why do you choose to walk away from us?”

“Because I’m not choosing ‘us’,” You removed his hand, “I’m choosing myself.”

With that, you walked away as fast as you could. You were eager to get out of that because you knew that nothing good would come out of that conversation. 

Your friend smiled and reached out to embrace you. 

“I’m so proud of you for that.”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

glad we made it this far um yeah! that shit made me mad and i wrote it sooooo yeah but anyways round of applause for the reader

[manias-wordcount]

View of Paradise (Satoru Gojo x Reader) PART THREE

[𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙀 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘾𝙃𝙊𝘾𝙊𝙇𝘼𝙏𝙀 𝙁𝘼𝘾𝙏𝙊𝙍𝙔 𝘼𝙐]

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗱𝗼 𝗶 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗹𝗼𝘄 𝗯𝘂𝗿𝗻 𝗶𝗳 𝗶𝘁 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲𝘀 𝗺𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗼 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁? 𝗯𝗰 𝗶 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘇𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘀𝗹𝗼𝘄 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗴𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗿 𝗶 𝗮𝗺 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗔 𝗼𝗼𝗽𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗴𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗮 𝗹𝗶𝗹 𝗯𝗶𝘁

𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁: 𝗼𝗻𝗲 || 𝘁𝘄𝗼 || 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 || 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿 || 𝗳𝗶𝘃𝗲 || 𝘀𝗶𝘅 || 𝘀𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 || 𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 || 𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗲 || 𝘁𝗲𝗻 || 𝗲𝗹𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 || 𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗹𝘃𝗲 || 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻 || 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻 || 𝗳𝗶𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻 || 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲…

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

The first thing you notice when you slip into the kitchen is just how much bigger it feels now that there are only about four chefs left inside. It’s the same sight and the same feeling you get every time you’re closing, but it’s still a little jarring. As you empty your tray in one of the kitchen trash cans, you count four people in the room instead of the usual ten or however many people are actually here during a given shift. Either way, it’s always weird seeing the back of house so empty. Always.

  Right now, there’s a guy with Toge, helping him clean up a couple of the stations together. The guy is big and loud and a bit eccentric. But Toge seems fine with having the other guy speak enough for the both of them so you don’t put up a fuss. Another chef, one you’re having trouble remembering the name of, seems to be towards the back of the kitchen by the freezers- taking inventory and writing stuff up on her notepad. You take a second to tell yourself that while it sucked being locked outside today in the cold, you’re just happy nobody hated you enough to lock you in the freezer overnight. A shiver runs down your spine at the thought. Out of fear or memory of just how cold that freezer can get from the one time you peaked your head back there for head chef Nanami, you’re not sure.

  And speaking of Nanami…

  “Mr. Nanami…?” You softly call the older man’s name from behind him. He’s standing over his station, with his back towards you. But at the sound of your voice, he’s turning his head with a passive expression on his tired face. You feel bad for the guy. You really do. Unlike you with your two days a week of twelve-hour shifts, Nanami does the full fifteen hours for all seven days. He told you it was by choice. Same way his leaving the diner right at eight-thirty at night, every night (even when the kitchen is still sending out orders to stragglers) is a choice. But you’ve seen how the kitchen falls apart on those rare days he takes off from work. It was a nightmare you remember very vividly. But you wonder if the way he works himself now is even a better alternative in the end. “My brother is here now. We’ll be heading out shortly if you want to say hello.”

  When you mention your younger brother, Nanami’s eyes soften. Just a little bit. But behind his glasses, the man still looks as cold and as intimidating as ever. Still, it seems like not even a guy as jaded as him can go without appreciating your little brother. And you can’t blame the guy either. Yuuta’s a great kid. Great younger brother too.

  Though with all the stuff you have to do for your family, you’re willing to bet that you’re an even greater sister. Just saying.

  “Good kid,” Nanami finally murmurs after a while, before turning around and facing his station once more. He gets back to whatever task he was doing easily, and you’re stuck twiddling your thumb for a couple of seconds and debating whether or not that’s your cue to go. That was until he spoke up again about a half-minute later. “What’s he doing out here so late?”

  You shrug your shoulders a second before you remember the guy doesn’t have eyes in the back of his head. Despite all the kitchen staff swearing up and down that he does...

  “Work, I think. He’s been running newspapers and shining shoes before and after school. He had to ask for more hours…” You trail off at that, as memories of your exact circumstance start to rise. Your mood starts to sour a little at the thought. Your mother’s pay was cut back not too long ago. And it looks like there are talks of layoffs in your father’s factory very soon. All that with the price of medication for all your bed-ridden grandparents starting to climb is adding up to a whole laundry list of problems. You had hopes that Yuuta would be able to remain a kid for a little while longer. But with the way things are going right now, you’re not completely positive Yuuta will be able to stay in school for as long as you managed to in the end…. “...so that's probably why he’s not home yet.”

  As the words leave your lips, you look at the door to the kitchen. You can’t see your brother through it. But you can imagine him very clearly right now. Working through the rest of his homework while he waits for you because there’s never a guarantee that the lights at home will work for him. He spends his mornings up at the crack of dawn delivering papers to the neighborhood instead of in bed or eating Gojo-O’s in front of a TV. He spends his afternoons cleaning shoes and helping out where he can for some meager pocket change instead of hanging out with his friends. Does he even have friends still? When was the last time he was invited anywhere? You remember losing many of your around his age as your family fell further below the poverty line and you started missing school for your part-time jobs.

  It makes you sigh quietly as you think about it more. You know exactly what he’s going through. Because you remember very well starting to have to pull back from being a kid around this age too. It’s been over ten years for you, but still, you can recall just how much it hurt to lose your childhood, and you never wanted that for Yuuta. But between an empty stomach and time away from friends, you knew there was a correct answer to choose. But in your opinion, it would never not be a painful one. Especially for an eleven-year-old boy like him. 

  You let out another sigh, but quickly perk up a second later. 

   “...Or maybe he’s waiting for your cooking!” You pipe in the last second when you realize that the silence between you and Nanami is starting to become a little deafening. You let out a tense little laugh as your eyes shift around at the other people in the room. Luckily, nobody is watching or seems to be listening to you. You’re thankful, as your cheeks start to warm up with embarrassment at the thought of almost venting to your co-worker right before closing time. “Ah, haha…”

  However, by the time your nervous laughter dies down and you face ahead to look at Nanami again, you find that the man is already looking at you. Although the intensity of his gaze has you swallowing a little nervously, you can tell that the glint in his eyes wasn't showing you pity or deep and the utter sadness you used to get from all kinds of grandmas and grandpas in the street. 

  It’s respect.

  That’s why you find yourself whispering a quiet “thank you, Mr. Nanami” as he steps aside and shows you three to-go boxes full of food. One container is a full thing of chicken tenders and french fries. Edges burnt and blackened, but you know you and Yuuta would be happy to share. The second container holds a couple of slabs of meatloaf that just seem to be a second away from falling apart. But there’s enough for your mom and your dad if they had a side of cabbage with it all, you’re sure of it.

   And container three has somehow managed to fit two full hoagies shoved in there. They’re squished and squeezed as much as they can be, but they’re in there alright. You have a feeling that they were made with the lunch meat that was about the go bad and the saddest, ugliest slices of tomatoes and onions and lettuce that this kitchen has to offer. But you know once you cut these sandwiches in half and present them to your grandparents, they’ll be willing to worship it like it’s pure gold.

  They must be the worst items that came out of the kitchen today. The ones that almost got past Mr. Nanami’s watchful eye during quality control but ultimately didn’t. And it’s a lot more than he usually is able to slip for you and your brother. A lot more than what’s usually allowed by your boss anyway. But there are plenty of good people at Zenin Diner to balance out the bad, like the closers that are here with you tonight. That means there are plenty of good people looking out for you and your brother when they can too.

  You gather up the boxes quickly and go to fetch your cardigan. Now that your younger brother is here and it’s pitch dark outside, people are a little more okay with you ducking out before the rest of the cleaning is done. You bundle yourself up tightly and stack boxes full of food on top of each other, careful not to spill anything on the freshly swept and mopped floors. And careful not to get caught sneaking too much food from the kitchen tonight by Mr. Zenin either.

  By the time you’re ready to go, Nanami is following you out of the kitchen. You wave bye to Toge, and for some reason, Toge and the eccentric man wave back at you two. However, you don’t dwell on it too long as Nanami holds open the door for you to step through. Just like you don’t dwell on it too long when Nanami just shakes his head at you for asking about whatever is in that small little paper bag he’s got stuffed in his hand that he keeps conveniently moving out of your view.

  When you step back into the front of the house, Nobara and Maki are still bickering just a tad at each other. But the conversation about math has seemed to disappear alongside the empty spots for answers on your brother’s math worksheet. But he still looks conflicted as he holds open a book and has his gaze wandering back and forth between the two women. Though as he hears the door open, Yuuta’s gaze is quick to fall onto you. And his mood is even quicker to light up like the sun as he spots the containers of food in your hands.

  You mouth the words “pack up your stuff” to him and set the food down to quickly take care of his empty cup of water. Yuuta nods at you before setting down his book and lifting his backpack onto a nearby stool as he starts putting away his things. Nanami lingers just behind the counter with you for a little bit longer than you would have expected, but he’s quickly roped in the conversation between Nobrara and Maki as they both turn on him and ask if he’s ever read “The Call of the Wild” before. Expectedly, both Yuuta and Nanami let out their own little sounds of exasperation, and you can’t help but laugh as the two of them try to hurry along and get out of there.

  Still, not wanting to be on your feet for any longer than you really have to, you’re speedy about washing out Yuuta’s cup, drying it off, and placing it in the correct spot for tomorrow’s openers. Besides you, Nobara and Maki’s conversation has died down to a pair of grumbles as they turn back to get some more cleaning down. And in front of you, Nanami is making his way from behind the counter and heading towards the front door of the diner. 

  But as you’re doing a quick wipe of the counter where Yuuta was sitting, you notice Nanami looking at you from the corner of your eye before stopping in front of Yuuta. No words are exchanged between the two of them. But you do see Nanami reach into his pocket and press the little paper bag he was hiding from you earlier into your brother’s hands once he finally finished putting his backpack on. But before you can even call out to Nanami- whether it was to thank him or scold him for sneaking another thing out to your family, you’re not quite sure yourself- the older man was already out the door and down the stairs of the diner. Never once looking back.

  At that, you let out the umpteenth sigh of the day, but you don’t go chasing or shouting after him. Especially now that you’ve spotted just how big the smile on your brother’s face has gotten once he opened up the paper bag and took a peak inside. 

  Of course, Yuuta tried to hide it from you- having understood exactly why Nanami must have slipped it to him in secret. But you’ve been his older sister for far too long to have a secret kept so easily from you. And by the time you’re picking up the food again and heading out the door after saying your goodbyes to the rest of the staff with your brother in tow, you already managed to sneak your own quick peek of the surprise gift your brother got from Nanami. And although Yuuta puts up a valiant effort to keep it from you, you’re an experienced older sister. And your brother is no criminal mastermind either. But most importantly? You’d be a fool not to know a full-size Gojo Bar just from the shape alone. 

  Letting out one more sigh, you pushed open the front door to the diner and took a step outside. Your breath comes out in little white puffs of air. It’s getting colder. Colder than it was earlier today. You hum thoughtfully.

  You’ll have to thank Nanami tomorrow. 

[ghostyclay]

Since yall seem to like my other AUs/headcanons, I've decided to rant a bit about my 'main' one :3 (kept vague to avoid spoilers)

Small summary: (more indepth rant below)

it's a villan & hero hermitcraft / life series / empires au, focused on bad boys (at least during the first arc). Joel creates a bar as a cover for a fighting ring/information selling business, joined by pearl effo gem grian and jimmy. Grian refuses to participate in the criminal activities at first, but doesn't rat them out either. (inspired by his resisting the resistance thing in s9)

However, as u can probably guess, this doesn't last long and he slowly gets more n more involved, especially once random people mysteriously start getting "the red curse", which he recognizes from his past... (hehe watcher lore) Grian continues to pretend to stay uninvolved while trying to keep the Watchers at bay behind the scenes, even going as far as creating multiple alter egos / secret identities in order to hide his involvement.... (poultry man, cute guy, mother spore,...) Sadly, the Watchers think identity reveals are incredibly amusing and make it their mission to reveal Grians secrets... :)

Now, lil poll bc i wanna know yalls preference:

Im not a very experienced writer, so I can't guarantee the fics would be any good- while i def prefer comics, it would take a long ass time and I'm not sure whether its a good idea since i tend to loose interest in projects p fast wkdhakdj

Still debating what to name it, I think ill call it "Web of lies", "Wolau" for short LMFAO. Im not very good at naming things 😭 suggestions are welcome!!!

Some more background info:

Joel is a fairly new villain who has decided to start a business focused on fighting rings, selling information and just generally doing criminal stuff. (inspired by his secret fighting club in s10). He hires Gem and jimmy, two ex-vigilantes who became a bit more... Villainous. Their cover is a normal bar, which ofc means they also need normal employees who won't snitch. Jimmy suggests Grian toJoel, since he's a retired informant. He basically started out as an investigative journalist in another city, but got more n more involved with both villains and heroes (which is how he knows jimmy) before joining a cult (watcher lore watcher lore watcher lore-) and suddenly dissappearing.

Although he went missing a few years ago, they manage to track him down. He joins, but tells them he's not involved in the world of villains anymore and that he wants to stay out of everything (so hes basically working in the bar that they use as a cover as a 'normal' employee and turns a blind eye to anything criminal going on)

That's kind of the start of the story? Afterwards, Pearl, a villain who used to be a vigilante that worked with Scott (<-number one hero), then got betrayed by him and is now plotting his murder, joins in. Later on etho joins, who is originally sent by the hermits as a spy (<- p big villain&vigilante alliance in the city) but ends up deciding to side w/ them. (BOAT BOYS BOAT BOYS BOAT BOYS-)

(pearl & Scott's conflict is ofc a double life ref and etho is a mycelium resistance ref, he also ends up finding out about some of grians secrets and helping him behind the scenes)

Although its focused on the members of the bar, later on it focuses more on other hermits (since they get more involved w/ the villain group "hermits" which most of the hermits are a part of) but there's also some side stories that focus on other ppl (there's a whole side story about Ren and Doc getting to know each other after Ren gets infected by the curse, or martyn whole listener thing & how it's connected to renchanting/ren getting cursed and the Watchers showing up in the first place... But i dont wanna spoil too much :3)

Oh also! Hermits r mainly criminals(vigilantes, villains, big salmom mafia,...) and Empires members r usually heroes! But there is some exceptions to this rule. (jimmy n martyn for example)

ANY KIND OF QUESTIONS OR SUGGESTIONS R WELCOME!!! might not be able to answer everything bc of spoilers, but ill def try to do some foreshadowing instead :3

[klutzyroses]

hi ! Could I request (Ikemen Sengoku) Kenshin's, Mitsuhide's and Yukimura's reaction/scenerio to finding out y/n is pregnant ?? Their first reaction and maybe some afterthoughts , would they prefer girl or boy are they anxious stuff like that ^^

IkeSen HCs: Pregnant SO

Suitors: Mitsuhide, Kenshin, Yukimura

Mitsuhide

Oh ho...what a surprise.

To be honest, it wouldn't be too shocking that he probably figured out she was pregnant before she did.

He is happy of course, though he will likely focus on teasing her about it.

But inside he is just a little conflicted about being a parent, let alone about whether he would make for a good one. He has no doubt that Y/N will be a splendid mother. Him as a father....debatable.

However, he will resolve to be there for her and take care of her every step of the way, she will want for nothing.

He finds himself deep in thought ever since discovering her pregnancy. Contemplating. Planning. He wants this child to grow up happy and safe, but he also knows life tends to have other plans.

If he had to choose between genders, he'd pick a little girl. He will unabashedly say he'd a little girl to spoil and tease as much as he teases his little mouse.

"Now wouldn't that be fun, hm?"

Kenshin

He...almost doesn't understand what she is talking about?

A child? Inside her? What was it doing there?

Logically he knows how it got there but...

His initial reaction may not be the best, as he is not entirely sure how to take it, not because he necessarily upset, even if he may seem that way at first.

He may come off as sullen or despondent at first, but that's only out of shock and maybe some worry.

He doesn't consider it a bad thing when he settles and actually thinks about it. Truth be told, the more he does think about it, the more he likes the idea of having a child with Y/N. A bit apprehensive but glad, even if he doesn't say as much.

He will feel infinitely more protective of her, being extra picky about who is near, how near they are and for how long. This particularly applies to Shingen.

He will cut any potential threat to her and his unborn child to pieces.

He doesn't think too much about the gender but...perhaps a boy? And then the next baby will be a girl. In that order.

"Why settle for just one of them? We will have both."

Yukimura

Ehhhh!?!

He is broken. Has ceases to function.

He feels as though she is joking at first but no, she is very much carrying a baby.

His baby no less... Well of course its his, there would be no way it could be anyone else's!

Yuki is...losing his mind a little here. He is just short of mentally running around in circles, as though she is already in labour.

Of course he is overjoyed in ways that can't be described. Once the shock has dissipated, he will pick her up and spin her around, his smile capable of lighting up the night sky with it's brightness.

He does worry about being a good father to the baby, but he vows in his heart he will do everything in his power to be there for his child.

He may not mind the gender of the baby, but if asked, he may say he would prefer a girl. If asked why, he may stutter and grumble that he just wants one, avoiding eye contact and his cheeks tinting red a bit.

"...I want her to be as pretty as Y/N..."

🌸

[lightlycareless]

How strict is Naoya in his parenting style and how might that appear when he’s parenting the child he’s chosen to succeed him? I’m sure it’ll look different than how Naobito treated him but I also wonder if he’d have struggles falling into old patterns on occasion

Hello!

Another interesting ask 👀👀 One I haven't wondered to myself, always thinking that he'd be like, spoiling his kids rotten... but anyways!!!

If we’re talking about the version of Naoya that doesn’t care about anything else but himself, then yeah, he’s going to be super strict + detached. You cannot force him to care and will undoubtedly replicate the things he saw when growing up to his kid; his children are going to hate him, and I think… Naoya might hate them too.

However, we’re talking about a man that has you as his wife, whom he loves very much and has slowly begun to change for the better, learning that he too is deserving of happiness and capable of harboring such feeling, which he tries his best to extend over to his children 😊

It’s not easy, certainly not with someone as the Zen’in as relatives, but he does his best to raise them in an environment vastly different from his. And if there’s a silver lining to all this, is that he has such bad examples around him, that he knows what not to do lol.

The real issue here is when it comes to putting down boundaries, in other words, dealing with the consequences of their never-ending, unrestricted doting.

I mean, there was no way they knew it would be difficult, right? Everything had been nothing but smooth sailing when (for example’s sake) Naomi was a baby! She was just an adorable toddler, as well as their first child, so they had to give her all that she wanted, and more; besides, she was too young to know any better, and as first-time parents, you deserved to do this!

What could go wrong?

The two would soon find out the moment she begins to walk, talk, and, you know… everything else.

Because Naoya and you had spoiled/doted on her so much, she thinks that your warnings are, well, playful suggestions; and it becomes difficult to get her to understand that you two were being serious…

Leaving the two with no other option than to look into punishments.

I think this oneshot is the perfect example of what would happen when Naomi does get grounded, as well as everyone’s surprise from the fact the two actually kept their word and did it.

Because of her spoiled, and lenient upbringing, Naomi is exaggeratedly sorrowful. Straight up miserable which leads her to isolate herself from her parents, upset that they would “betray” her like this, which honestly makes Naoya and you feel like an absolute piece of shit, heavily debating whether to just save her from being grounded and move on!

However, you both decided against it after coming to the conclusion that this was, in the long term, for her good.

Yes, it definitely hurts to see her avoid the two, and yes, sometimes you’ll cut her “sentence” a bit shorter… but you always do your best to explain why she’s being grounded in the first place; one of the many things Naoya does differently from Naobito, and while it takes a while for her to get it, they eventually bear fruits.

Over all, the Zen’in clan is astonished that someone as Naoya was capable of raising such a well-mannered child (considering his upbringing and what seemed to be hers at that point.) but no one will deny that they’re relieved she’s not bound to be as crazy as her father was.

She’s still a child of course, so expect a lot of mischief here and there, but nothing too crazy—that’s for the youngest of your kids 🤭

Now, referring to the “old patterns” section… Yes. As any human, Naoya will undoubtedly fall into his old self from time to time, when it happens the first time though the reaction to it will be so, so painful to him, he’s actively going to avoid his children because he thinks of himself as a “danger to them.”

But that’s the beauty of families; you both have each other for support, so when he doubts himself, you’ll be there to lift him up and reassure him he’s a good father—and vice versa—by reminding him that it was not intentional, and him knowing such proves it all together.

These things don’t happen very often after years go by, if anything the two just become more lenient, when the rest of your kids bring it up, Naoya will quickly jump to deny it lol.

I believe the only places he’d be very strict though would be when naming his successor and training them to be sorcerers—but it’s all because he knows the dangers such responsibilities entail, and he wouldn’t want any of his children to be unprepared to face them.

So, the final conclusion is: while Naoya will be highly doting of his children, spoiling them with whatever they want whenever they want it, he’ll still manage (although very, very hardly, to his very best) to be strict when needed, but never borderline abusive—he’s at a point where he wants to give them only the best.

Doesn’t stop them from being mischievous little devils, but they’re all lovable, nonetheless.

Extra: he’d be a total soccer mom. The way he gets into it is kinda scary, but not unexpected, he is highly competitive after all…

Y’all sending me these asks have me very very happy, ngl. Thank you so much for indulging me, you literally how over the moon I am to know there’s people that like what I do :’)

Thank you so much for sending in this ask! I hope you have a wonderful weekend, take care and hope to see you soon!