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lassieposting · 5 months

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Been thinkin about Astarion + vampire biology so have some headcanons and the bits of game lore they're based on

Dialogue establishes that Cazador has been successfully passing himself off as a regular noble for centuries, and Astarion confirms that while he's considered a bit reclusive, he does mingle with the upper class of Baldur's Gate and has a property specifically for hosting fancy events.

Vampires are camouflage predators, whose primary hunting strategy is to blend in with their prey until the perfect time to strike. Their ecological niche is not a particularly safe or stable one - they live hidden in plain sight, usually in sizeable cities, for easy access to prey, but they know that if they are discovered they will be rooted out and killed or driven away. They are rarely able to get away with attacking in public, where city guards might rush to the aid of a screaming victim - they have to isolate their target before killing it. The ability to blend in, to be overlooked by their target, until it is too late is essential.

Cazador is, as far as we know, the only true vampire in Baldur's Gate

This is because true vampires are aggressively territorial. Like most apex predators, they eat a lot, and need substantial territories to support them - even moreso if they have a partner or spawns. Ascendant!Astarion would need to hold onto the entire city, as Cazador did, to be able to feed himself and Tav without raising suspicion.

True vampires are relatively rare, but there are more of them than there are cities, so it's not uncommon for one to set up in an occupied city and try to oust the sitting resident. The challenger usually believes himself to be as strong or stronger than the current tenant: these territorial disputes usually end in at least one death, so they're not to be entered into lightly.

Astarion is very obviously a vampire: his fangs are visible, as are his bite scars; he's so pale multiple people comment on it; his eyes are red, etc.

Astarion is not a healthy vampire.

This is a man who has been kept on the knife's edge of starvation and tortured regularly for 200 years, and to another vampire, that would be clear from the state of him: Astarion is a camouflage predator who is so malnourished he is no longer able to blend in.

Tav will get an up-close look at his transformation over the course of the game and during the years afterwards: the more healthy and well-fed Astarion becomes, as his body catches up on its immense energy deficit and begins to recover, the better he will be able to mimic a living elf. His skin will be able to bleed, or blush, or bruise, none of which he's capable of while actively starving. Hia fangs will retract until he needs them, not invisible but less obvious - having them out all the time is a response to severe deprivation; he's so hungry his body can't risk losing prey to the split second it takes Cazador to snatch a rat back, so he's permanently in bite mode, hyperaware, ready to strike. Some body functions will come online that he didn't even know he had, the ones that are supposed to help him blend in - his eyes will start producing pigment to look darker, less scarlet and more burgundy, to be more easily mistaken for brown; his lungs will make him breathe automatically even though he doesn't need it, he'll start being able to eat normal food without getting sick again, though he still won't get any nourishment from it; he'll heal faster. He'll even be able to get drunk, though he'll burn through it very quickly. As it stands, all those extra systems have been shut down by his starving body - they're useful, but nonessential, and he needs every single bit of energy funnelled into just keeping him alive and functional.

There is probably an intentional bit of psychological warfare against the spawns on Cazador's part here - him starving them strips them of their natural defences, and every time he makes them leave the mansion to hunt, they have to do so knowing that they're poorly hidden and vulnerable. But it's established that true vampires treating their spawn poorly or outright abusing them is A Thing, so it's not the only reason - he sees them as property rather than people, he keeps them weak so they won't plot against him, he's acting out his own trauma from Vellioth on them, he just wants to - but it does feed into it.

Astarion can, at one point, identify old blood as belonging to the player character. He also gets excited at another point if an enemy character runs away, stating, "Now it's a hunt."

He says that "even stale, [he'd] recognise that bouquet anywhere." This confirms a few things for us:

He has a vastly superior sense of smell capable of identifying individuals by scent and - since he can tell who the blood belongs to even after some time has passed - following scent trails.

This confirms that although city-dwelling vampires may primarily hunt via luring a victim to a secondary location before killing it, they still have the "stalk down and chase" predator instinct. Since Astarion can't lure wildlife anywhere, this is almost certainly how he's been hunting to supplement his diet when he's not using the player as his personal caprisun.

The fact that he can scent out prey before killing it means he has this ability all the time - he can smell blood while it's still safely inside the owner's body.

So scent is probably relevant to how vampires process the world. The more time each companion spends with him, the more he gets used to their scent, starts associating it more with safety and camaraderie than with a potential meal, and so he becomes more relaxed around them. As he learns to link the player's scent with love and comfort and trust, the more likely he is to retreat to their tent over his own when he's injured or afraid or having a trauma moment. When he's fond of someone, something of theirs will go conveniently missing - he's moving their scent into his little safe space, it's comforting for him. He can tell when his lover is hurt or aroused or frightened - though not which of the three applies - from a distance, because his sense of smell can pick up the spike of adrenaline rushing into their bloodstream.

But that also means that he can never feel like he's got any distance from Cazador while he's living in the mansion - even if the man isn't in the same room, the entire place reeks of him, and it makes Astarion feel like Cazador is breathing down his neck all the same. Ascendant Astarion would have a really, really hard time sticking it out in that mansion with stale Eau de Cazador all over the place. It means that he's put instantly on edge by the faint scent of one of his siblings as he walks through the lower city - when seven vicious, territorial apex predators are confined to a single small dormitory, several hours a day, seven days a week, 365 days a year, fights are going to be nasty and frequent, and although Cazador wouldn't allow them to kill each other, considering how many of his siblings refer to him as weak or a runt, Astarion probably didn't win them very often. So. Having a highkey advanced sense of smell is a mixed bag.

#bg3 #bg3 headcanons #astarion ancunin #astarion #cazador szarr #idk if this conflicts with existing dnd lore and idc welcome to the silly zone

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justawritterwithideas · 1 year

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law in pink | s.r

♡ next part ♡

summary: when the BAU needs an extra helping hand, Washington decides to send the best of the best, but what they didn't expect was to see... pink.

warnings: a bit of stereotypes, beyond that a bit of comedy and fluff. there may be mistakes in writing because I wrote it too fast :(

this story is spencer reid (season 7) x ssa elle woods!reader

words: 1,649 words.

a/n: elle woods from legally blonde comes to my mind constantly because is one of my favorite movies, so I wanted to make a mix called "ssa elle woods"; I hope you like it and you can understand the idea of reader as elle woods, I also hope I didn't portray it wrong and that it will be misunderstood T T

The BAU needed a hand with the rising crime wave, so, straight from Washington they sent the best of the best from their office.

And of course Penelope had to investigate.

According to her research, you had graduated from Harvard with honors and had given the honorary alumni speech at your class graduation. In addition, you were a part-time Harvard professor of Political Theory during the fall and part of a prolific group of researchers in your Washington office, which had the highest rate of successfully resolved cases in the last 5 years.

In addition, you had achieved on your LSAT a score of 179 out of 180 points.

Something inside Penelope reminded her a little of her friend, Spencer Reid, in you.

But what she didn't expect to see when she looked you up on the interwebs was the fashionista and family friendly life you had. The way your apartment was decorated with a pretty pink aesthetic, your outfits videos that reached millions of views and your day to day routines were the mantra of many girls, being all perfectly edited.

With that and more, anyone would think that your job was not to be a federal agent, but an influencer.

Penelope was already smelling perfume from her computer, and that made her more than eager to meet you.

It was seeing one just like her in front of her screen.

You were the perfect candidate to be her new best friend.

The clacking of your heels and the smell of your Chanel perfume filled the entire BAU office, causing the complicit glances of all the workers who were there.

"Have you seen Barbie yet?" "Is the model missing?" "What about her? Maybe she's a lost intern. First-timer problems."

Everyone was making comments you'd heard more than once in some police office, maybe it was the way you dressed didn't go along with the aesthetic they had or how feminine your attire might be, but that's who you were and for a couple of comments about your appearance and the stereotype they had they weren't going to sour your day.

"Excuse me, are you looking for someone?"

You turned to see a tall, dark man, who was watching your outfit from last season's Prada fit you to perfection.

"Oh! Finally someone nice." You commented with a smile. "Yes, I'm looking for Agent Aaron Hotchner."

"He's my boss, would you like help finding his office? I can help you."

"That would be great, thank you very much..."

"Agent Morgan, Derek Morgan."

"It's a pleasure, Agent Derek. I'm Y/N, nice to meet you."

You didn't like to introduce yourself officially as an agent, it made you look rather intimidating if you did, and that was what you didn't want.

It wasn't a long walk to the wooden door which was adorned by a plaque with the name of the person you were looking for.

"This is it, you come for a case? Any family members involved?"

"No, I'm coming to help. Thank you very much, by the way."

You gave him one last smile before knocking on the door, hearing a "pass" from inside.

"Who was the girl you were escorting, Derek?" Emily watched the man reach them, peering curiously inside Hotch's office.

"Her name is Y/N, she said she was coming to help, but... I don't know, she doesn't look like someone coming to help, maybe she's a witness."

Spencer's eyes scanned the situation, trying to conclude who the mystery woman inside his boss's office was about, but coming up with nothing on the spot. Like his friends, they were all searching for an answer to the abiding doubt in his head.

Who exactly was that girl and why had she said that? She didn't seem like a person whose job was an office job, but not one that was very risky either.

But before they could say anything, Aaron came out of the office with his ever-serious face.

"Meeting in 5" was the only thing he announced, so the group took heed and went to the place.

Once inside the office, Penelope found herself with her dear friends, who were trying to figure out the causes of the recent meeting.

"You don't know Pen either, do you?" J.J. was the first to speak.

"No idea, Hotch just asked me to be here."

"Just like everyone else." Rossi replied, settling around the round table with his coffee cup.

The conversation didn't last long when Hotch entered the boardroom.

"Good. I know there's no case yet or apparent reason to get them together first thing." Hotch began. "But as you may know, the last couple of months have seen an increase in crime for the BAU, which is exactly why we've been given extra funding to bring an extra agent onto the team."

Sounds of excitement came from everyone's mouths.

"So I've been contacting old colleagues, who recommended the best of the best. So they've transferred an agent from Washington to help us."

"Boy, they must be desperate." Derek's comment drew a few chuckles.

"I'd like to introduce you to the SSA, Y/N Woods."

Everyone's countenance changed to one of surprise when they saw you walk in, smiling in the friendliest way possible.

The same girl who looked like a model fresh off a runway was the newest member of the BAU.

"It's nice to meet you all, I hope we can work well together." You set your Prada bag to the side, being able to scan each of the members quickly.

"Woods, this is SSA Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi, dr. Spencer Reid and our technical analyst, Penelope Garcia."

"Hey, I know you." You commented in the direction of Garcia, who was smiling politely. "You were the girl who commented on my recipe for the vegetarian tacos."

"Yes! They looked exquisite."

"Thank you very much, I hope they were helpful. We need to be a little more conscientious with our four-legged friends."

Spencer didn't know if he was dazzled by the whiteness of your teeth or the warm way you had entered into trust with Penelope with a simple recipe.

"Woods, Garcia. You'll have time to talk."

"I'm sorry, sir." They both replied at the same time.

"Fine, I'll go prepare the case, Garcia come with me."

They both walked out of the meeting room, leaving you alone with the rest of your new group of colleagues.

"I didn't know you were an agent." Derek was the first to break the silence surrounding them, causing you to turn in his direction.

"I didn't mean to mention it, I'm not a person who usually blurts it out just like that on the first interaction. You never know what kind of person a stranger is." You commented before you could look at him again. "No offense."

"No problem."

"From Washington, right?" Your gaze went to the blonde, who was watching from her position with a warm smile.

"That's right, even though I'm from California but I moved to Massachusetts after getting into Harvard, and then to Washington when I got an opening in the federal office there. So I'm from here, there and over there, but I'll always be a California gurl." A chuckle came out of your mouth after making a reference to the Katy Perry song, bringing your hands to your sides.

"Harvard? What did you study?" Spencer looked more and more interested.

"Law." You commented offhandedly. "I actually studied Fashion Merchandising at UCLA with a 4.0 GPA. But I wanted to prove myself and decided to get into Harvard Law."

"Switching from Fashion Merchandising at UCLA to Harvard Law is a big jump, how much did you get on your entrance exam?" Rossi asked.

"179."

Everyone's surprised face made an impression on you.

"What, like it's hard?" your eyelashes fluttered softly, before you remembered what you were holding as a "peace offering". "By the way, I made cookies yesterday for being the first day and making a good impression." Your hands went to your bag, pulling out a heart-shaped tupperware. "They're lavender and butter, it's a recipe I read on a fairly well known blog forum, they say Paris Hilton gets her recipes from there."

You held out the tupper to each of them to take out a cookie, leaving it on the table in case they liked to take out more.

"If they like more, just pull out. There's enough for everyone." A little smile tugged at your mouth. But before you heard any response from either person, the catchy ringtone of Gwen Stefani's "Rich Girl" interrupted any culinary criticism. "Excuse me..." Your hand went for your phone, which didn't surprise others by being pink, and you left the room letting out a "Woods" as you answered.

"This is new." Derek said.

"And delicious." Emily took another bite of her cookie.

"She's different than what we usually know." Rossi looked at the rest, taking a second cookie out of the tupper. "But I don't mind at all, in fact, I think new always comes in good."

"True, it's always good to have someone new and with a different vibe."

The group turned to look at Reid, who was holding the cookie with his right hand. The young man wasn't usually one to blurt out a comment, just like that, least of all referring to a girl.

"Oh kid, you find her attractive." Derek was the first to smile in amusement.

"What, no." The voice in a higher pitched tone than normal was what gave Spencer away.

"Spencer likes Y/N." J.J annoyed, walking out of the office laughing along with Emily.

"That's not true!"

"See ya, lover boy." Derek commented along with Rossi, who was gently patting his shoulder with a knowing smile.

And so it was that Spencer was left in the meeting room with his cheeks as pink as his new co-worker's heels.

♡ next part ♡

If you like it, don't forget to like and repost it.

a lot of love, alme. ❀

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fanfic #blurb #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid x elle woods!reader #legally blonde is superior #alme was here!

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deonsx · 3 months

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Teacher/Student Relationship With Bsd Men

Feat: Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor, Nikolai, Kunikida, Ranpo

Content: Smut, Fem!Reader, Fluff, Nsfw, Rude Talk

Not:You've both been of age for a long time

Dazai Osamu

• He's definitely a philosophy teacher and likes to fill people's minds with his theories

• You were the one who took the first step in your relationship, he rejected you the first time but you didn't give up that easily, you flirted a lot to get him and finally he agreed to be with you but of course he didn't want anyone to know about it, that's how your secret love started

• He wasn't one to hide it during classes. He would approach your desk and constantly ask you questions "S/o what do you think about this?" It was really difficult to teach the lesson with him

• This brunette definitely has a classroom fantasy..he calls you to his classroom after school is over..he likes to fuck you on his desk while the light is shining on you while the surroundings are orange with the setting sun

• Students are suspicious of his relationship with you, because even though Dazai has a secret love life, he is constantly watching you in class and does not forget to wink from time to time

• No, copying is forbidden, even if you are his lover, any copying will translate into extra fantasy punishments for him to fuck you at night "You need to know that no exceptions will be made for you" he just thought about the punishments he will give you at night as he took the cheat sheet and left

• He is definitely a man who loves making love. You heard from the gossip in the class that he had many girlfriends in the past, so he is very experienced, he likes a slow and sensual sex, and you had your first love 8 months after you became lovers, you forced him.. he was waiting for you

"Nghhh~!!" You wrapped your hands in the sheets as he pushed his full hardness into you. "Why did you cheat, dear?" He spoke with his tongue while leaving a wet line on your chest, all the way to your belly button. As he continued his hard thrusts, your surroundings were now completely blurry for you. How did you get to this point, how many times did you cum now? 5? 6? You don't remember, "You look really beautiful, you like me fucking you, right..?" "osamu--!!!" you screamed as he gave you quick strokes on your sweet part. The knot in your stomach quickly broke and a new one was added to the ejaculations you can't count

“I don't want anything like this in my lesson again, my love, is that understood?”

Chuuya Nakahara

• In my opinion, he would be either a German language instructor or a mathematics teacher

• He is definitely a very disciplined teacher and when you first confessed your feelings to him, he punished you and with that confession, he made the exams difficult for you and did not show even the slightest tolerance

• The first day your relationship with him, that is, the cold wall he built against you, started to melt was the day he got sick and neglected to come to school. You ran away from school that day and went to your teacher's house. He was angry when he saw you, but he couldn't say anything because he almost fainted

• You babysat him the day he was sick and made the ice in his heart melt. After that day, everything seemed to be a little more rosy for you. Chuuya avoided you mostly outside of class, but after weeks, he accepted his feelings, even though it was undisciplined and inappropriate for him, he avoided running away every time was bored

• he is really watching you all the time whether he is in class or not he stays near your class and watches the boys who talk to you (Those boys will fail his class) he is very jealous and may even give them a punishment

• Now let's get to the main point, how about sex? Do you have fantasies? How long after did he accept it? He's definitely the best at his job. He's committed to pleasing you. He doesn't have any perverted fantasies, but he won't say no to fucking you in the classroom. You had your first love 1 year after your relationship started and you definitely felt like you were in heaven that night

"Tell me, my love..." you barely heard his words as my legs were shaking. He had you sit on his dick and was making you solve math problems on the table in front of you.. "I-I don't know chuuya~!" Your brain became more fuzzy with every second as he thrust into you "Nghhh~~!!!" Chuuya slowly wrapped your hair from your wet skin to his hands. "My love, this is not the answer." You tried to get up while your legs were shaking, but when Chuuya's hand quickly pulled you back, a harsh moaning sound was heard

"If you continue like this, you will make me fuck you until the morning”

Fyodor Dostoyevski

• he is a physics teacher and teaches a lesson like death

• Everyone is trying not to fall asleep in his class. He is a very strict teacher and is the type of person who always takes a student to the blackboard. He keeps giving advice because he is an extremely religious teacher

• Now, if we look at it from a serious perspective, he definitely does not talk to his students outside of class, although the reason is not known, as if it were a rule for him and no student goes beyond this rule

• You didn't confess your feelings for him! (THIS IS A FIRST!) because you were really afraid of his reaction, instead of confessing to him, you constantly prepared meals in containers and gave them to him anonymously, and every morning there was a brand new note on his food: "You are very serious today, Mr. Dostoyevsky" "I hope you will notice my admiration and passion for you” "I can't stop thinking about you" or more spicy notes. It took months for these notes to flow, and although Fyodor hated it at first, months later he was waiting for those notes with a grin on his face every time

• He finally found you, but of course he wanted to see the person who wrote him these notes for months. He knew you were a student, but you didn't expect him to find you, and even though you denied his allegations against you, he knew everything from the beginning, he just laughed and you saw him smile for the first time, making your face turn red "All those notes were sweet"

• He definitely plays a sadistic role in sex and has many fantasies he only sees fit to make you suffer if it gives you pleasure and of course there is a safe word between you two that he stops when you tell him "Are you okay darling...did it hurt that much?"

• Yes, he is the one who thinks about having a secret relationship and sometimes acts like you don't exist in class. When you said you were upset about it, he never did that again

"ahhhh~!!" You were in the teachers' lounge, school had already closed and you couldn't hold back a moan as Fyodor continued to slam into you "You want to be known by others, slut" he grinned as he continued to thrust hard into you and hit your sweet spot "You want everyone to see and watch us like this, right..you are so naughty" his long white fingers He grabbed your waist hard and continued whispering to you with sweat running down his forehead

“The school is ours all night long. You can moan as much as you want, dear”

Nikolai Gogol

• He is a biology teacher and he doesn't even care about his lesson. He usually dozes off in class and doesn't care even if the students complain

• he sleeps all the time. Usually, his classes are the last classes of the day, so after he falls asleep, no one knows when he wakes up. One day you rejected the invitation of your friends and when school ended, you stayed in the classroom, covered his with your shawl, left a kiss on his white hair and left him there that day

• The next day, Nikolai must have found out who that shawl belonged to, because he called a student to his office for the first time, all the students said that someone had made him angry, because otherwise, why would Nikolai do something he has never done and care about his job? Yes, he found you and you saw him more serious than ever that day, but instead of saying anything harsh to you, he just thanked you

• From that day on, Nikolai never slacked off, he taught in a straight and disciplined manner. Even though the whole school was shocked by this situation, no one, including you, understood what changed him... But you were happy that you could listen to his conversations now. Weeks later, he started talking to his students

• you were always watching him in classes and after a while, it was like a bond formed between you, like an invisible rope... and he was the first one to confess after months. Your flirtation probably lasted more than 2 years, but eventually your relationship started

• Oh boy, he's a beast in bed, he's gone beyond his laziness limit, you've never seen that laziness again, he likes to film everything that happens with you so he can use it later if he needs it at school, he's got a fast and serious speed

"Smile my love~!!!" While he fucked you from behind, he tangled his hand in your hair and asked you to look at the camera "Nikolai~!! stop it this is too much...~!!!" nikolai moaned as the rapid thrusts continued their course "Fuck! You're so tight darling~~" you weren't even sure how many photos and videos you took with the camera, your mind was so blurry and you were on the point of fainting

"The night is just starting, my love, I love watching you"

Kunikida Doppo

• We already know that he is a mathematics teacher! And one of the very strict ones!

• He's the toughest on this list...because he's actually a gentleman with 58 ideals and a math teacher, and you're a student so you can't meet most of his ideals

• It's impossible to talk to him. He doesn't listen to the students unless there is a "math question" and walks away. In the eyes of the students, he is a rude and self-aware person. It was obvious that you couldn't talk to him normally, so you took the hardest option, Private lessons

• Now you don't think that this guy gives private lessons in a completely random way? He has criteria for students and yes, you spent months to meet them and just to take these private lessons and you got that chance again, he still has a long way to go before you, even if you try to flirt with him during lessons, he is definitely a heavy disciplinarian and quickly gets off topic

• You confessed to him after 2-3 months and of course it wouldn't be easy, he threw away all his lessons with you..and now your job had become twice as difficult, but since you thought his ideal woman would be an intelligent woman, you focused on your lessons and gained as much knowledge as him, of course it did not go unnoticed by him and finally started talking to you again

• He gave you a chance and you went to the movie night. After that chance, you went on more dates and eventually you started a relationship and yes, of course, your relationship was secret, it was unthinkable otherwise

• How is it at night? He is definitely a trick when it comes to romance that will attract your woman in the best way. He has learned fantasies just for you (maybe he wants to see you in different positions:0)

You were tied to your bed with your hands handcuffed. Kunikida was trying out a fantasy he was curious about on you again "Do you feel nice, my love?" He had the decency to ask you as he slowly moved in and out of you and he nodded. You bit your lip to moan as your hair clung to your face. "I want to hear your Ssshhh voice" As he slowly accelerated, his wrists started to hurt and it would probably leave scars tomorrow

"Fucking you like this... makes me feel so good"

Ranpo Edogawa

• He is a mathematician and he is definitely the best at his job. No one at school recognizes him as a teacher. He is known as the genius teacher of the school and has enough knowledge to teach all other subjects

• Yes, the fact that he is smart does not eliminate his most important feature of laziness, he is a complete sleepwalker, but he rarely skips classes just

• He is a teacher who is comfortable enough to give you the answers to your grades in exchange for bribes, that is, things like snacks, and he is the most comfortable among them

• If his heart is running on junk food, then you will bribe him every day for the opportunity to talk to him, but of course you will do it without making it look like that

• You started bringing him small snacks every day, each time saying "Ranpo-san!!! Look what I got you?" "Special candy day!!" "I bought it from your favorites" he continued like this every day, even though he always made sure you passed your classes, what you wanted was much more than grades

• Although it wasn't easy for him to give you a chance, it didn't take him long to ask the girl who did so much for him and that's how you started dating, of course it was a secret relationship again. After spending months with you, Ranpo rented a house with you and now you started staying with him

• You make love every night..he is very lazy but how can he miss it when such a beautiful woman attracts him..slow and sweet sex will satisfy his pleasure

"F-fuck my love, keep going~~" while you were jumping on his swollen dick, he was breathing his hot breath into the cold room. His face was red and his eyes were narrowed. "Nghh~ You like this, right, Ranpo? You can beg, my dear" Ranpo laughed hoarsely, although not very loudly, at what he said and his cold hands held your hips

"I'm punishing you to bounce on my dick all night long my love, thank you for this pleasure"

Enjoy!

Tags!!~~

@lunaaka @zbriia @hiddensideofmoon @cupidszvlvr @skelitea @cocodrilofeliz @n1chxyaaenthusiast @muichiroismylove @camillesartbook @eggcoreloser @mizuxii

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mizuminon · 4 months

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Dr. Vertitas Ratio x GN reader

Summary ; He never expected to fall in love with a simpleton such as yourself.

Extra notes : He's a green flag if you ignore the red flags. So yay my first fic here!!

He hated idiots, simpletons and mediocrity.

So what exactly did his heart see in you?

You were one of his students, he often bickered with you over small mistakes you made, every little mistake making him more and more frustrated with you. He knew you could do better, and hell do anything to see you do better.

When he offered you tutoring sessions, it was something you were reluctant to accept. After all, when exactly did he go out of his way to help anyone that hasn't requested him to do it first? With his ego, you were a bit skeptical about his reasoning.

Slowly but surely, you warmed up to his tutoring sessions. He wasn't exactly any kinder to you, but he was significantly more pleasant to be with.

You've noticed his behavior changing, usually whenever anyone made a mistake, he'd call them an idiot through his thick alabaster head. And yet, you've never seen him wear it around you. It made you feel more comfortable around him. Knowing you could see him face-to-face.

You've taken note of how handsome he was, even when thinking he looked picture perfect. He still wore it during class, but never with you.

You were surprised when he first brought food to your tutoring sessions , you immediately questioned his reasoning.

"I just want to see you eating healthier food." He said, and you decided that maybe it was out of genuine care. You two sat and ate what he prepared, it felt good to eat a meal that had actual care and time put into it.

On rainy nights, he made excuses that he couldn't go home, because he walked to your apartment. It all sounded stupid, but you knew better than arguing with Dr. Veritas Ratio.

You two had to get creative, since you had one bed. And he refused to sleep on the couch, and after you offered to sleep on the couch, he still refused.

Which resulted in the both of you laying on your bed, it was cramped, you could feel his back against yours. It was weird.

You felt him turn around, his warm breath down your neck. He pulled you a bit closer to him, your back against his chest. "Is this okay with you, dear? I don't want you having any lack of sleep, tomorrow's lesson will be hard." He mumbled, his voice a bit deeper due to the tiredness.

To be quite honest, your friends always said he had a thing for you. He was harsh towards everyone, but somehow his narcissistic heart managed to soften up for you, and only you. "Mhm, yeah. It's okay. More comfortable." You replied, trying not to let him know how long you've wanted this.

Wrapping his arm around your torso, he pulled you closer, your bodies tangled together. Neither of you minded, it felt right.

You felt his breath close to your ear, "I love you, goodnight." He mumbled. You couldn't help but almost scream, out of excitement of course. "I love you too." Was the response you gave him.

One thing was on your mind, as you drifted into a deep sleep in his arms,

How did he fall for a mere simpleton like you?

#dr ratio #dr ratio x reader #hsr dr ratio #hsr x reader #dr veritas ratio #dr veritas ratio x reader #veritas ratio x reader #mizu writes #hsr x y/n #hsr x gender neutral reader

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niqhtlord01 · 2 months

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Humans are weird: Ramming Speed

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

The idea of ramming space ships into each other as a form of combat maneuver was beyond many galactic military minds comprehension.

A single spacecraft, let alone a military grade class vessel, would cost up in the billions of credits. Entire galactic economies had nearly bankrupted themselves trying to maintain a fleet large enough to secure their borders, so in turn each military ship became an asset not to be squandered lightly.

Perhaps it was this conservative mindset that nearly shattered when these powers first looked upon the Terran ship codenamed “The Ram”.

Unlike other modern vessels the ships of this new classification lacked all weapon emplacements. No energy cannons, missile launchers, rail guns; it was entirely free of weapons. What it did have was excessive amounts of armor plating, several separate shield generators, and a pair of overly powerful engines that could reach max speed in roughly five minutes.

The first time it was observed in combat was during the Terran/Crux war. Both powers had sizable fleets at their disposal and for the first couple months the two powers played cat and mouse games between each other; each trying to find a more advantageous position to commit their forces. Much to the dismay of both powers the first large scale battle was triggered by mere chance than a tactical decision.

A Crux patrol stumbled upon a Terran patrol emerging from a dense nebula in the Viper System. Both patrols requested reinforcements. Nearby patrols were soon diverted to the engagement and within short order what was a small skirmish ballooned into a full scale battle.

There were no battle lines or frontlines as ships opened fire at near point blank range with each other. Even when higher rank Admirals arrived to take charge both sides were too embroiled in the slugfest to make any more nuanced tactical moves without exposing themselves to the enemy.

It was here that the Ram emerged and showed its prowess.

Crux warship crews were not trained on how to handle enemy vessels rushing towards them. What’s more several gun crews became panicked when they saw the Ram ships rushing headlong towards them without diverting course.

With the extra armor and shielding the Terran ships not only struck head on into Crux ships but emerged from the attack relatively unscathed. In most cases the prow of the Ram ships punched clean through the entire hull of the Crux warship and emerged through the other side.

The Crux fleet desperately tried to regain order and form battle lines but each time they did so the Ram ships would plunge head first into their formation and take out the command ship coordinating the effort.

As more and more Terran ships arrived and formed their own battle lines the tide of battle soon drastically changed. After thirteen hours of intense fighting the last of the Crux fleet withdrew from the battle leaving the Terrans the victors.

A full fifth of the Crux navy was lost during the battle with the Ram ships having personally claimed 45% of the kills.

While the war itself would continue for another two years, the Ram ships and their unorthodox tactics had earned them a modicum of respect from the wider galaxy, and a great measure of fear from the Crux.

#humans are insane #humans are weird #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #scifi #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01

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zepskies · 7 months

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Smoke Eater - Part 1

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

AN: "Smoke eater": a self-appointed slang term for a firefighter.

Happy Hispanic Heritage Month!! 🥳❤️‍🔥 You guys really warmed my heart with all the excitement for this story. I'm very happy to bring you the first chapter. I hope it doesn't disappoint! 😘

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 4,000 Warnings: Tense situations, brief mention of claustrophobia, and a good old-fashioned meet cute.

Part 1: "Class and Style"

Come on, come on, come on!

The toe of your heeled foot tapped on the floor as you, once again, waited for the elevator to make its slow climb back up to the 22nd floor.

In your hand was a tray carrying two steaming lattes: one small, plain hazelnut, and the other a venti caramel frappe with all the sugary bells and whistles. Complete with extra whipped cream, because your boss was a goddamn child.

I shouldn’t even be getting his coffee, you thought sourly. This is his assistant’s job!

And if this elevator didn’t climb any faster, having to stop at Starbucks during your meager lunch break for your boss’s morning fix would make you late for a very important sales meeting.

“Let’s go, Betsy. Come on,” you muttered. “You can do it.”

Yes, you’d named the contraption that usually managed to carry you all the way to your correct floor. When she wasn’t broken down for maintenance.

The four walls of the narrow elevator shook and creaked as it cleared the 20th floor. You inhaled sharply, but resisted the urge to grab the inner guardrail. This thing was old, just like the rest of the building.

But then, Betsy screeched and made an abrupt stop.

You were woefully unprepared. You slid in your heels and gasped—both at the jolt, and at the hot lattes tipping out of your hand and down your blouse and skirt.

Shit!

You didn’t even have time to wince at the scalding hot coffee, as you nearly rolled an ankle in the spillage. Luckily, you were able to grab at that guardrail. You sucked in relatively even breaths as you realized what happened…

The elevator stopped, but not on your floor.

“Oh, God…” you uttered, staring up at the red, digital “21” above the metal doors. It was blinking, but not moving. Just like you weren’t moving. Which meant…you were stuck.

Okay, not a big deal. You’re fine, you thought, trying to calm yourself. All you had on you was your phone, your ID, and your credit card. You’d decided to leave your purse in your desk, since you were just walking across the street.

But that was okay! Because you still had your phone…

“No service. Of course,” you muttered, raising your phone high to try and get a bar. This elevator was a dead zone, and it always had been. Fucking hell…

So you did the only thing you could think of.

You shouted for help.

You pressed the emergency alarm, several times.

You could hear it blare and echo outside of the chamber of the elevator, but no one seemed to hear you. Your work building was huge, made up of several departments and hundreds of employees here at Savage & Co. There was always plenty going on, especially in the middle of the morning.

Maybe no one could hear you.

“All right. Don’t…don’t panic,” you told yourself. Even though your heart was beginning to pound.

You finally pressed the “Call” button outlined in red. You didn’t know if it worked; half the floor buttons on the console didn’t even light up anymore.

But to your relief, the sound of a phone line ringing echoed through the small speaker. After a few rings, someone answered.

“Fire Department.”

“Oh, God. Yes!”

With a hand on the rail, you managed to kneel down next to the speaker. Your free hand brushed a strand of hair away from your dewy face. There was no AC in here, and you were starting to sweat. Thankfully, the rest of your hair was pulled up into a clip.

“I’m stuck in one of the oldest elevators known to man,” you told the disembodied voice.

“Sorry to hear that. What’s your name?”

You gave them your name, along with the address of your company’s building. The voice promised that they were dispatching a until to come and get you out soon.

“How soon is soon?” you asked.

“…About forty-five minutes, give or take.”

Jesus Christ.

You baked inside Betsy for close to an hour. While your makeup slowly melted, you found a corner of the ground that wasn’t covered by a coffee puddle, and you pressed the alarm button at random intervals. Still, no one seemed to hear it. You used the empty coffee tray to try and fan yourself.

Your phone was also useless. You tucked that along with your credit card into your bra for safe keeping. You’d definitely missed your meeting about the prospective Zimmerman account—one you and your coworker Josh were competing to nail down, as the top performers in the sales department. You couldn’t even catch up on your emails.

Damn it, Nick’s gonna chew my head off, you thought. But then you frowned, your brows furrowing. Well, it’s his fault for not maintaining this damn building. And for ordering a damn caramel frappe! What is he, a 12-year-old girl?

Your skirt was still sticky on the side. With a sigh, you leaned your head back against the metal wall and closed your eyes. Ah, well. At least I’m not claustrophobic.

“Fire Department!” called a man’s voice from above. “Can you hear me down there?”

You gasped and opened your eyes. Your gaze raised heavenward, and you called out to the voice.

“Hello?!”

“Ah, we found you. You okay, ma’am? Are you hurt?”

“Y-Yes…” You shook your head, even though he couldn’t see it. “I mean, no. I’m not hurt.”

“Good. That’s what I like to hear,” he said. “You’re stuck between two floors, but we’re gonna get you out, all right?”

“Okay.” You sucked in a shaky breath and grabbed the rail so you could get back onto your feet. “I’m stuck on the 21st floor right?”

“Well, in between 21 and 22. Hold on one sec.”

You stood there with bated breath, just waiting for something to happen. You heard tools whirring, felt the elevator shutter for a moment, but it didn’t budge. Until you heard a thump on the roof. You looked up, but of course you couldn’t see what was happening.

Until a square patch in the roof was unscrewed and drawn back, revealing a firefighter in almost all his gear: wearing a gray shirt tucked into navy pants, red suspenders, black boots and gloves. All he was missing was a jacket and a hardhat.

He did wear a harness, and he held another one in his gloved hand, as well as a charming, almost boyish grin on his face.

“There you are,” he greeted.

You didn’t know if it was the lack of AC, or his ridiculously handsome features, but you felt your face heat up further.

“Uh, hi,” you said, very eloquently. You offered a smile back. “Thanks for the rescue.”

“Well, we haven’t gotten there yet, but we will,” he said, still with that grin as he lowered the second harness down to you. “I’m Dean. What’s your name?”

You gave it to him as you took the harness.

“Nice to meet you, despite the circumstances,” he said. “I’m sure you didn’t have this on your bingo card today, did ya?”

You snorted in response. “Not even in my fortune cookie.”

It earned an amused look from him. Then he proceeded to instruct you on how to put the harness on around your waist and shoulders and clip the straps together.

“Okay, good. Now tug it, make sure it’s tight enough,” Dean said, motioning with his hand. You obliged him.

“Perfect.” He nodded, before crouching down and lowering his hands through the compartment. “All right, now. Just take my hands. I’m gonna pull you up.”

You looked up at him, then and at the narrow escape hatch with uncertainty.

“It’s okay,” he said, noting your reluctance (and your white-knuckle grip on the guardrail). “It’s perfectly safe.”

“Yeah, I doubt anything about this situation is safe,” you replied wryly. You glanced at the elevator’s metal walls. Even now, they groaned under Dean’s shifting weight.

“I mean, I’m sure you’re strong and all,” you said, with a vague gesturing hand at him. You couldn’t quite tell from your limited vantage point, but Dean could barely fit his broad shoulders through the hole he’d opened up. He was probably a big guy.

Still, you didn’t like the idea of your legs dangling in mid-air.

“I’m a woman, but I’m still a full-grown person,” you said, your brows beginning to furrow in worry. “People are heavy, and this thing is rickety as hell, and that’s a really tiny window…”

“All right,” Dean gently interrupted. He looked like he was trying hard not to chuckle, and you didn’t appreciate it…even though you were biting your lip, trying not to smile too (more in embarrassment).

“I promise you, the line’s got you,” he said. And he tugged on the sturdy rope that connected to your harness.

His eyes met yours directly, firm and assuring. They were green, you noticed, even in this fluorescent lighting.

“More importantly, I’ve got you. And there’s no way I’m gonna let you fall,” he said, with what seemed like every conviction in the world. “Just take my hands.”

He leaned in further so you could reach him.

…And damn it, you believed him.

Staring into his eyes, you found the courage to suck in a deep breath and release the guardrail. You reached up and let his hands curl tightly around yours. You gripped him right back.

“All right, pull up!” he called back over his shoulder.

You couldn’t see them, but you heard the voices of other firefighters as they slowly retracted Dean’s harness line as well as yours. When he was able to plant his feet on the roof of the elevator again, you held your breath as he pulled you all the way up as well.

You lost a heel along the way though. It fell off your foot and hit the bottom of the elevator below.

“Woops,” Dean said. His arms wrapped around you, and he held you securely against him when your heel (and bare foot) also met the elevator roof, a bit awkwardly. You both peered back down through the square hole.

“Want me to get that for you?” he offered, with another one of those grins.

Now you knew you were blushing. Stop it!

You shook your head as you clung to his arms. You felt the strength in them, and it steadied you, along with the easy way about him that said he was more than comfortable with the perils of rescuing trapped women from old-ass elevators.

“Don’t even worry about it,” you told him. “I just want to get the hell out of here.”

Dean chuckled then. “I hear ya. Let’s go, then.”

He glanced up and called out to a “Benny” and a “Gordon.” You assumed they were the men securing the harnesses that held you and Dean.

“Okay. You ready, sweetheart?” Dean asked.

“Yeah,” you replied with a nod, even as you bit your lip again at the endearment. Usually when men called you sweetheart, (like your boss), it was like nails on a damn chalkboard.

But somehow, it didn’t seem so sleezy coming from the charming fireman.

You craned to looked up at his face. He was much taller than you, even with half your heels. Dean met your eyes again, and for a moment, you were tense. The elevator shaft was dark and cold, but the light from the open doors of the floor above allowed you to see his face, decorated lightly with stubble, and his brown hair that spiked to one side.

Your mouth parted, though you didn’t have a clue of what to say next…

You were saved when the lines went even more taut, and the firefighters on the floor above brought you and Dean all the way up to the 22nd floor. He helped you reach out to a bearded fireman, who supported your arms and carried you out of the elevator shaft, onto solid ground.

A small crowd had formed in the lobby. Zachariah the CFO was there, along with the building manager, and your friend Andréa, who looked both worried and relieved to see you. And even your boss, Nick, came forward to meet you once Benny and Dean helped you take off the harness.

“You’ve had a busy morning,” Nick drawled.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “You could say that.”

Technically, he was everyone’s boss: Nick Savage, CEO of Savage & Co. He’d inherited the company from his father. However, Nick believed his one sad year of college business classes made him an expert on running your sales department with a firm hand.

“Well, it’s good to see you’re all right,” he said. Though his eyes glanced down your stained, white blouse, down to your bare foot. His gaze made your spine prickle. And not in a good way.

You crossed your arms on reflex. “I know I missed the meeting—”

“We recorded it. You’ll be able to watch it later, take notes, all that good stuff,” he said, his head tilting in that lazy way of his. He gestured at you with a finger. “But, uh…once you’re done cleaning up, think you could nip back out and get me that coffee? Since, you know, you’re kind of wearing it.”

Behind you, the team of firefighters discreetly watched the scene while packing up their gear—some with curiosity and bemusement, others (namely Dean) with a subtle frown.

You were livid.

But you managed to keep it down, just beneath your skin, as you bent down and took off your remaining heel.

“I’m requesting the afternoon off as personal time,” you informed him with (mostly) all due professionalism. There was a fire in your eyes, however, that not even you could tame.

“But don’t worry,” you said. “I’ll still land the Zimmerman account by Friday.”

You turned and dropped your shoe into a nearby garbage can. You didn’t want to be reminded of your boss every time you saw the coffee stains.

Before you left, you stopped in front of Dean and the other firefighters.

“Thank you very much for all your help,” you said, giving them all a smile. Your gaze lingered on Dean, who smiled back at you and nodded, his hands resting on his belt.

“You got it, sweetheart.”

Your lips twitched. Then you continued on your way towards the exit door, to the stairwell. You shoved it open and walked bare-footed up to your office to get your purse.

You’d left Nick silently fuming in the middle of the hall. You knew there wasn’t too much he could do with an entire crowd of witnesses.

He soon huffed and let your behavior roll off his back, as he became distracted by Zachariah and the building manager asking about the last time the elevator was properly serviced.

Meanwhile, Dean and Benny shared an amused look as their team rolled out.

Damn, Dean thought, remembering how you’d stopped in your little storm out, just to thank them. And how you’d held your head high as you walked away on bare feet.

He could admit, you had both class and style.

“Really, Grandpa. I’m fine,” you insisted.

Now in the comfort of your own home, and in your pajamas after a nice hot shower, you stirred a pot of chicken soup for your Grandpa George. He eyed you from the kitchen table with a measure of suspicion.

“Well, it’s lucky for you we’ve got a responsive Fire Department,” he said. “In the sleepy little town I grew up in, you’d be lucky if the whole damn building didn’t cave in before somebody got to ya.”

You shot him an amused look.

“Thanks. Makes me feel better about stepping into an elevator ever again.”

George seemed to consider the prospect, but he soon waved a vague hand.

“Ah, you’ll be fine,” George said, waving a hand. “Even if one of the cables snapped, you’d have three more holdin’ you up. And it should only need one cable to support the compartment, make sure the whole thing doesn’t fall to the damn ground.”

Your grandfather had been a technician for sixty years, so he knew a little thing about commercial building maintenance. However, right now, he wasn’t making you feel any better about your somewhat perilous experience. You paled a bit at the thought of cables snapping, leading to a long, Tower of Terror-style drop.

Except there’d be nothing to catch you at the bottom.

“It’s okay. I’ll just start walking up all 22 floors up to my office every day,” you said, smiling wryly. “I’ll finally have thighs like Wonder Woman.”

George laughed, though it soon ended on a cough. You eyed him with a frown as you ladled out a bowl of soup for him. You went over to him, both to set down the bowl in front of him and rub his back.

“Still with that cough. I don’t like it,” you said. “I’m making an appointment with your doctor.”

George shook his head and grabbed his glass of water.

“Just something caught in my throat.”

“Mhmm,” you replied. He was the absolute king of downplaying. It used to drive your grandma nuts.

You sighed and raised a hand to your forehead. An ache was building behind your eyes. Or maybe it had been there since you left work early today, and you were just now realizing how tightly wound your spine was.

“You okay?” George asked. You read the concern in his eyes and tried to relax your face from its scrunching.

“Yeah. Just a tension headache.”

“Hmm. Maybe you should spend less time worrying about me, and more time taking care of yourself,” he pointed out. “You had a stressful day. Why don’t you go relax? Or better yet, go out! Go see your friends. Get in a bar fight. Something productive.”

A grin curved your lips as you raised a brow.

“A bar fight would make me more productive?”

George grinned up at you. “Well, at least it’d get you out of the house.”

You pursed your lips. There was a reason you didn’t go out very often, and your grandfather knew it. You were the only one who could watch out for him now, even if he didn’t think he needed it. Your mouth opened to reply, but before you could, your cell phone rang through the house.

For a moment, the two of you stared at one another. Until George raised his brows.

“You should get that, huh?” he said.

You narrowed your eyes at him, despite your small smile, and you raised a finger as you went to get your purse over in the living room.

“We’re not done, old man,” you said over your shoulder.

“Oh, believe me. I know,” he grumbled, delving into his soup with a spoon.

Meanwhile, you fished your phone out of your purse and answered. A genuine, if tired smile graced your lips. It was your best friend, Andréa. She worked with you at Savage & Co., over in Marketing as a graphic designer.

As fate would have it, the two of you were hired on the same day five years ago. She’d invited you to lunch that day, and from then on, you two had been rocking through corporate life like Thelma and Louise—if Thelma had been a Greek artist and Louise had been a sarcastic saleswoman.

“Hey, Dre,” you greeted.

“Hello, my love. Congratulations for surviving your near-death experience, and getting to serve Nick Savage a bit of humble pie,” she teased. “I thought you were going to lobby your Prada heel at his head.”

You huffed and plopped down on the couch with your feet up on the coffee table.

“First of all, let’s not be too dramatic. I was stuck in an elevator, not a Chilean mine shaft,” you said wryly. “Second, you really think I would throw away Prada? Even if it was coffee stained… Those were just my $30 Steve Maddens.”

And yet, they had been your most comfortable heels. Maybe you should just find some sensible flats in the back of your closet and be done with it. But you liked the height and confidence that a nice pair of heels gave you—especially in that office filled with “Mad Men” wannabes.

Every male on your sales team thought he was Jon Hamm in a room full of George Costanzas.

Nick Savage was the worst out of all of them.

You dealt with it, however, and sometimes even thrived on being the only woman on the team. Mostly because you needed your job.

It paid well enough, but most of it went into the upkeep of your grandparents’ old house, and for the past few years, their extensive medical bills…

“Still, at least you got a Mission Impossible-style rescue out of it,” said Andréa. Her tone turned both leading and flirtatious. “Tell me you got that fireman’s number. Dear God Almighty, what a Grade-A Hottie.”

You chortled through your blush at remembering Dean, the firefighter who saved you. You could admit, he’d been one fine specimen of a man.

“Grade-A Hottie. What are we, in middle school?” you retorted. “Besides, he was just doing his job.”

“Ugh, you’re so pragmatic it hurts,” your friend lamented. “You really need to live a little, while you’re still hot and firm.”

You laughed fully at that one. “Yeah, I think taking the stairs from now on will help with the ‘firm’ bit.”

Just like the strength of the firefighter’s hold had been. You’d felt entirely secure after he’d pulled you up on the elevator roof. His arms had reassured you even more than the harness, if you thought about it. (And your face heated up further at said thought.)

“I do wish I could say thank you again, somehow,” you mused out loud, not really thinking about who exactly you were talking to.

“Oh, yeah?” Andréa said. You could practically hear her mischievous grin. It made you slightly nervous. “Well, it’s not unheard of for a grateful civilian to stop by a firehouse. You could bring him lunch or something!”

“Ah, I don’t know about that,” you said. Your instinct was to withdraw inward at the thought of putting yourself out there like that. Besides, you didn’t want to bother him while he was at work.

“What’re you talking about? Firefighters love food! Believe me, my cousin Meg is a paramedic,” Andréa said. Then she gasped. “Oh, girl. I have the perfect idea for you. Why don’t you bake something for the whole firehouse? That way it takes some of the pressure off, but you still get to see him.”

You became more contemplative then.

Bake something, huh?

Now, that you could do. Andréa knew all too well that the one thing that could get your gears turning was getting your apron on, as baking was your ultimate hobby. It made you feel creative, and damn-near stress free…

And her idea wasn’t too shabby, the more you thought about it. It was something kind that you knew you could do. And more than anything, you really did just want to say thank you, one more time.

You smiled.

“Okay. I think we have a plan.” However, your smile soon fell. “Wait, I have no idea what firehouse he works at.”

“Hmm, my cousin might know,” Andréa said. “Let me reach out to her…what’s his name again?”

“Dean,” you replied. Another small smile reached your lips, against your will.

“His name was Dean.”

AN: Ah, the first chapter! Launching a new story is always so exciting! 🥰 What did you think of the reader and Dean's first meeting?

Also, feel free to imagine Mark Pellegrino's "Nick" for this (I am). He didn't have a last name on the show, so I created one for this story, as he's going to be an important antagonist throughout.

And just so you guys know, my knowledge of the inner workings of fire departments and law enforcement will largely come from my own research and being a huge fan of procedurals, like Chicago Fire, Chicago Med, Law & Order, etc.

Yes, aspects are fictionalized on those shows, but a lot of it is rooted in real-life protocol and stories. All the love and respect for creator/executive producer Dick Wolf. 😂

...Oh, and the elevator scene was inspired by true events. (Yes, I've been stuck in an elevator before. 🫠 Two ridiculously hot firefighters pulled me out, but by then I was melting from the lack of AC, had no makeup, and was dressed like a female!Dean, plaid and all lmao.)

Anywho...

Next Time:

“Protect and serve,” Dean teased back. “That’s our motto, you know.”

“Isn’t that for police officers?” you quipped.

He chuckled a bit. “Hey, if the shoe fits.”

“Well…” you considered that with a tilt of your head, more seriously than he expected you to. You met him with a more earnest gaze. “I think it does.”

Right then, Dean had a feeling, deep in his gut, that he needed to know you.

Keep Reading: PART 2

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

Due to Tumblr's dumb 50-only tag rule, I'm tagging the rest of you in a reblog. 😘

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

#Class and Style #Smoke Eater #Part 1 #dean winchester #Firefighter!Dean Winchester #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x female reader #firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester AU #firefighter AU #spn #supernatural #zepskies writes

818 notes · View notes

angelltheninth · 3 months

Text

Fluster Battlefield

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, teasing, kiss, flirting

Word count: 1k

A/N: Gojo fluff commission with a pretty good prompt I must say.

Dragging one of their nails down the side of your neck and then middle of your chest.

Your boyfriend wasn't easy to fluster. One might even say he was unflusterable. You didn't believe that, you needed to put this to the test. First was your appearance, you showed off your legs, unbuttoned your shirt, put make up on. "Someone looks pretty today!" He winked at you over his glasses.

"You might see me better if you take those off, Gojo." You hooked your finger on his glasses and pulled them down his nose and leaned into his personal space.

"I don't need to, I know how sexy you are." Gojo put his glasses back into place with a grin. It wasn't uncommon for the two of you t flirt in the middle of a crowded hallway, for the other students to get jealous. Things have been like that since your relationship started, which for some people was sweet and for other annoying.

For you it was the best thing in the world, being openly affectionate with your boyfriend without a care in the world.

There was still a few minutes before you had to go to class, so you still had time to fluster him. You wanted to be a good student, so you didn't talk much during lessons. Gojo was the opposite, he'd lean over to whisper sweet nothings to you, touch your hand and your leg, pass notes, doing everything he could to make you flustered. The worst part was that he wasn't trying that hard at all.

Around Gojo you were a mess. Well that all changes today. Today is his turn to be a mess and for you to enjoy it. If only you could figure out how to do that. You couldn't get him with the outfit or the teasing.

"Hello! Where'd you wonder off to?" Gojo waived his hand in front of your face. You blinked quickly and looked up at his smiling face, "Lost you there for a second. Listen don't worry about that field training, I know you're gonna kick ass like you always do." Oh yeah, there was a test today. And you completely forgot to prepare for it.

You would have if Gojo didn't leave you so breathless when he left your house. How were his lips not swollen after all that kissing you did?

Just another thing he could tease you for.

"If I fail cause of you it'll be your ass that I kick." You nudged him in the ribs, giving him a teasing glance.

"Will you really? I seem to remember you were the one who told me not to stop last night." Whispers and speculations echoed around the two of you, making your ears burn from the things they were saying.

"Gojo you idiot! You're gonna give people the wrong idea!" Your relationship hasn't gotten to that level just yet. But given how flirty you were in front of everyone of course there was speculation of otherwise. And now he added fuel to the fire. It was a good thing no one ever dared say anything gross to either of you.

Gojo shrugged, he didn't mind any rumors about your relationship. Not as long as they weren't the bad kind of rumors. Then he could deal with them before they got out of hand.

Although... you could use this to your advantage too. As you placed your hand against his shoulder you pressed him against the wall, assuming the position he oh so loved to use on you. "Gojo, are you hoping I fail today's field training?"

"Huh? Why would I hope for something like that?" Gojo tilted his head and pursed his lips in confusion, his eyebrows bunched up close to each other.

"Well if I fail I have to take extra classes. Since most teachers are busy with other students those extra classes usually fall to the top students. Which you are." You ran your hand from his cheek to his neck, tracing his skin with the tip of your fingernail, smirking as his skin prickled, "I think you want an excuse to spend extra time with me." Gojo gulped when your finger moved lower to his chest, going from button to button, "I think you're looking for an excuse to get physical with me."

Your finger stopped at the middle of his chest, feeling his heart beating quickly. His glasses may hide his eyes but the tips of his ears were fully red from being called out in front of everyone.

"Hit the nail on the head did I?"

"A-As if." He looked down and grabbed your hand, "If I wanted to get physical with you I could just do this!" His hands cupped your cheeks firmly as his lips pressed against yours even harder. With yours still being sensitive from last night you were transported back there, with him on top of you, his hands on your naked stomach, your arms around his shoulders, on his back, on his hips, pulling him closer, begging for more just like he said.

Everything he said about you was true, but so was everything you said about him. That was one of the beautiful things about your relationship and compatibility, you could read each other like an open book.

Releasing your lips with a deliberately wet pop he smirked victoriously when you were the one rendered speechless once again. But you could still see the slight pink color on his face, and the color of your lipstick on his mouth. "I'll be sure to cheer you on today. Do your best okay babe?"

Gojo's snarky smirk have you mixed signals. Did he actually want you to pass or not? Even if you were to fail it wouldn't be that big of a deal. Like Gojo, you were one of the top students. But if you failed it would give Gojo more ammo to tease you with, not to mention the rumors would only increase.

You watch him walk away as you scramble to get your thoughts in order. He won this round, again, but you did manage to score at least one point against him. You managed to fluster him, so you'll take this small victory.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk imagine #jjk fanfiction #jjk fluff #gojo imagine #gojo fanfiction #gojo fluff #x female reader

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hardwriterdeluxe · 8 months

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Economic Hockey Boys

In a small, conservative town, Alex's life was about to take an unexpected turn. He was an outsider, a creative soul who had always felt like he didn't quite belong. His colorful and artsy presentation was a stark contrast to the traditional masculinity that dominated his school, especially in the language class he shared with a group of stereotypical boys.

One of these boys was Max, a tall, athletic, and incredibly attractive member of the local hockey team. Max was the embodiment of the masculine ideal, with his chiseled jawline, strong physique, and a confident charm that made him popular among the girls and respected by the boys. Little did Alex know, but he had developed a crush on Max from the moment he saw him.

Their shared language class had been a source of both excitement and anxiety for Alex. Excitement because it allowed him to explore a new subject, but anxiety because it meant spending more time around the boys he secretly admired. Max, in particular, had caught his attention.

One day, their language teacher assigned a group project, and “fate”intervened to bring Alex and Max together. Before the lesson Max and the boys had requested to be paired in this group. They found themselves in a small group along with a few other students, working on a project that required them to sit closely together in a small group room.

As they settled in to work on the project, Alex couldn't help but feel nervous sitting next to Max. His heart raced, and his palms grew sweaty. Max, perhaps sensing Alex's unease, turned to him with a friendly smile. "Hey, Alex, don't be nervous. We got this," Max said, his voice smooth as honey.

Little did Alex know, Max had a plan of his own. He subtly flexed his arm, causing a bead of sweat to glisten on his bicep. Then, as if by accident, he raised his arm to reach for a pen, allowing his armpit to come tantalizingly close to Alex's face.

Alex's heart skipped a beat as he inhaled Max's intoxicating scent. He was oblivious to the fact that Max was intentionally using this opportunity to get closer to him, to make his presence known, and to send Alex's heart racing.

But the other boys in the group knew exactly what Max was doing. They exchanged knowing glances and stifled their laughter as they watched Alex struggle to maintain his composure.

As the project continued, Alex found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. Max's proximity, his scent, and the subtle but deliberate physical contact left Alex feeling dizzy with desire. Little did he know that this was just the beginning.

At the end of the lesson, Alex was dizzy and could not focus on anything but the smell. Originally, he was supposed to have an art lesson after the language lesson, but because of his foggy brain, he didn't think twice when he got the offer from the other boys. Max and the boys asked Alex if he wanted to tag along for their scheduled hockey practice. The team had made up with the school so that the members of the hockey team could practice during school hours.

Alex said yes, of course, and walked with them to the hockey arena, still dizzy but not as much. Alex's attire was a funny clash with the other boys' clean sporty look. Since Alex wore artsy and flamboyant clothes, he looked like a disco ball next to the conforming boys.

As the group and Alex finally arrived at the hockey arena, Alex started to question the situation a little bit more. Firstly, he knew nothing about sports or hockey, and he didn't even have any gear. Secondly, he was a skinny twig, not like Max, a Greek god. But he didn’t question it since he wouldn't be playing anyways

Max continued to be friendly with Alex and made Alex follow him and the boys to the locker room. In the locker room, the boys exchanged knowingly smug looks and waited for the action to begin.

They were tired of having to share their class with a walking pride flag and couldn't wait for Alex to become the extra resource they were missing on the team and in their bro-group. Max and the boys started undressing at their stations while Alex just stood there and started smelling the tasty air. Of course, a sweaty locker room filled with gear from matches played by hormone-filled 18+ boys would smell.

The boys had changed into their hockey attire and counted on Alex to poke around their "leftover" stuff. Just as they knew that when they left for practice and left Alex intoxicated by the air, Alex would start sniffing the leftover stuff and start his transformation.

Alex went from locker to locker and bench to bench, burying his face in socks and jocks, to jerseys and gloves. He got so hard he finally caved in and started to undress. All the leftover stuff he would put on to be one of the boys, the boys he envied and crushed on.

Firstly, Alex put on the used jock and felt so hot. He followed that up by covering his dainty feet in the big socks. He continued to dress up with the pants and put on the "gigantic" skates that were yellow from all the wear and tear. These definitely belonged to a player that used his full potential.

After he had laced up the skates, he put on the shin pads and the large shoulder pads. He continued to gear up with his elbow pads and his slash guards. Finally, he could put on the team-repping jersey that currently displayed a random number and name. He put on the helmet, hiding his blush-red face, and sealed off his hands with the large gloves.

Alex went over to the locker room mirror to see a pathetic boy in baggy gear. Just as Alex had the sad thought that this was stupid and that he needed to hurry before the others found him, he felt a tingle.

It first started in his feet where the once baggy socks and big skates soon filled out with rough, manly feet that had the skate methods in them. This was followed by his small legs growing larger, his calves exploded from the practices they had been through, and the changes just kept going up. His thighs became big and well-trained.

Alex's torso cramped before its fat disappeared, leaving rock-hard abs and a mesmerizingly good physique. Alex's once nonexistent pecs quickly hardened, and he started to fill in the gear well. The once large jersey, pants, and guards now fitted him perfectly, protecting him at all costs. Next up were his twig arms contrasting his currently good build. Alex's arms exploded with muscles, and you could see that he was clearly right-handed since he had used that hand for the hockey stick. The changes tracked to Alex's hands that juiced out, hands became hard and full of energy.

The changes took Alex's back and made a landscape of muscles, made his nether region grow and fill out the now small jock cup, and made his flat ass round up from all the practices in the sport.

Last but not least was Alex's average face. His rounded jaw became as sharp as a knife, emitting the peak of masculinity. Alex's nose bridge became broken and healed in an instant, caused by all the sport injuries. Alex's eyes narrowed and became focused and quick. Alex's once playful hair straightened into a simple middle part just like the rest of the boys. Lastly, in the transformation, the musk from all the "forgotten" clothes was absorbed by Alex, and this made him finally conform now that his brain was changed.

He wasn't Alex the artsy freak; he was a hockey bro, a confident chick magnet with a killer body. He was Alex the economic dude who always reeked from his pits.

The real world conformed to these changes, and gone was the old Alex. With this, the jersey he wore changed into Alex Benson and his number.

The team came back from practice, not knowing the old Alex, just the new. The only one who knew was Max.

"Alex, bro, let's change after practice; you stink, dude.

Hehe, bro, I went all out on the ice, you know me."

No more were Alex's old clothes. Instead, before him in his "new" locker, laid gray sweatpants, a fresh hockey hoodie, a black cap, a chain, and his shoes and socks—the attire of a real man.

(should I make a part 2?)

#musk #jock tf #jockification #Bro #Hockeytf #Hockeygear #Gear #sports #frat bro #lockeroom #gay to straight

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tubatwo · 1 year

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back into you - choi beomgyu

summary: beomgyu is a sweetheart and you just want to be his friend

pairing: gn reader x choi beomgyu

genre: fluff; 1.3k words

a/n: gyu saying he wants to be invited to hang out more broke me </33 btw the other boys don’t exist here because they wouldn’t ignore gyubear like that

playlist: adoy - wonder, adoy - swim

if you didn’t know choi beomgyu by now, you were basically an idiot. choi beomgyu was a friend to all. people either wanted to date him or be him (or maybe both).

but there was only one problem.

many people saw beomgyu in the wrong light.

ㅤ

a typical day at school for beomgyu consisted of a few tasks: making the classroom laugh, making the staff laugh, making his friends laugh; basically just making everyone around him laugh.

once he completed those tasks and was back in the comfort of his own bedroom, he was able to take his mask off. be himself. fully, and completely. it’s not that beomgyu wasn’t a naturally funny guy, or that he didn’t enjoy bringing happiness to those around him, it’s just that he was starting to feel a bit burdened. on days when he wanted to keep to himself, people huddled around him, asking why he was suddenly quiet. if he was alone, people would look for him to make them feel better since they were feeling “soooo bummed about failing the quiz”

oh, and don’t even get him started on his love life.

girls constantly touching his shoulder, laughing a little too hard at everything he said to the point where it felt forced. it was almost exhausting.

at the end of the day, beomgyu was just a quiet boy who wanted to be loved. he had a bittersweet relationship with silence. during the day he desperately yearned for it, but at night it was like a reminder that loneliness came with it. beomgyu didn't want anything grand. he simply wanted someone who understood him.

it seemed like nobody understood any of this. nobody except you, of course. you noticed it. you noticed him in the library, headphones on while staring out the window. you noticed the soft smile on his face whenever the class was assigned to read love poems. you noticed the look of disappointment on his face whenever he tried to talk to his friends about a new band he discovered and they brushed him off. you noticed because he reminded you of yourself. to you, beomgyu seemed unattainable, but you were going to make it your mission to be his friend.

a few days later…

a test was coming up and you wanted to take some extra time to go over your notes. you decide to skip lunch and find an empty classroom to study in. after successfully avoiding any roaming teachers, you walk around the hallway until a familiar tune reaches your ears.

give me a feeling, slowly in a deja vu

it wasn’t loud at all, just enough for you to hear as you passed by a door. you peek through the window and see beomgyu doodling in his notebook while swaying his head. you hesitate before slowly opening the door, making beomgyu look up in surprise.

“sorry! it seems like we had the same idea,” you begin, “is it okay if I study a bit here?” beomgyu smiles and nods. “are you sure I won’t be a bother?” you ask, just to make sure. “no, it’s okay, really.” he reassures you before going back to his notebook. after a minute or so, you decide to make small talk. I mean, this is the opportunity you were waiting for, isn’t it?

“I really love this song!” beomgyu’s head immediately lifts at this. “really? you know them?” he asks. you nod and smile. “yeah! this one’s my favorite, but I also love their song lemon.” beomgyu gapes at you a bit before smiling and asking, “you’re y/n, right?”. you look at him with wide eyes, not expecting him to know you at all. “yeah, and you’re beomgyu?” you ask, already knowing the answer. you could’ve sworn you saw his ears go red. “the one and only.”

you and beomgyu spent the rest of the lunch period sharing music recommendations. before you left, he asked you for your number so he could make you a playlist. you felt like your heart was going to explode. a playlist? usually, you’re the one making people playlists, only to receive a simple thumbs-up emoji in return, and now beomgyu wants to make you a playlist?

the few days you two spent together turned into weeks, and then months. eventually, you and beomgyu made the tradition of meeting in the empty classroom every lunch period. it felt like the only time when you could quietly bask in each other’s presence. this was until it wasn’t. you and beomgyu were drawing doodles of maltese puppies and tiny bears in each other’s notebooks when you heard loud footsteps nearing the room. a group of people barge into the room giggling, making the two of you flinch.

“yo, gyu! where you been?” a guy asks before walking over to ruffle beomgyu’s hair. the guy takes a look at you and smiles mischievously. “oh, did I interrupt something?” you see beomgyu put on a fake smile before responding. “no, they’re my close friend, sometimes we study during lunch breaks.” you try not to blush at him referring to you as a close friend, and not just a friend. although, a large part of you wished for something more. beomgyu’s group of friends decide to make themselves comfortable and sit in the other chairs. beomgyu gives you an apologetic look before you shake your head at him, signaling that it was okay.

after a while, one of the girls looks at you with squinted eyes and speaks up, “gyu, they’re so quiet… how do you even get along?” your head lifts up and you fidget nervously, all eyes suddenly on you. “and what is this song? god, it’s putting me to sleep.” a different girl chimes in.

beomgyu slams his notebook shut before sighing. “could you all leave them alone? you know nothing about them.” he looks down before quietly mumbling to himself, “you know nothing about me…” the room is filled with an awkward silence before the guy from earlier clears his throat. “uh, okay, how about we just see you later?” the sound of chairs squeaking fills the room as they all get up and leave.

you turn around and place your hand on beomgyu’s arm. “hey, i’m really sorry about that…” beomgyu looks at you in disbelief, shocked, but not shocked enough to ignore the feeling of your soft hand on his skin. he shakes the feeling off before apologizing. “what? no, don’t apologize. they shouldn’t have said those things to you. they don’t understand.” you give him a smile before removing your hand, leaving his arm feeling colder than ever.

a moment of silence passes before beomgyu speaks up. “I can be myself with you.” you look up to meet his eyes, the two of you staring lovingly at eachother before the sound of the bell interrupts you, shaking you out of your trance. you both begin packing up and you softly grab his arm, giving him the warmth that he desperately missed. “would you wanna maybe…” you trail off, “do you wanna go to the new arcade with me this weekend?” beomgyu freezes and blinks at you as you continue. “I also know this really cool cd shop nearby, so maybe we could go… there… too?” you hesitate, starting to believe that you’ve crossed the line by seeing beomgyu’s blank reaction. you almost turn around to accept defeat before beomgyu suddenly goes, “yes!”. he notices how loud and awkward his response was before correcting himself, “I mean, yes, I’d love to.” you smile softly at eachother as he grabs both of your hands into his.

later in the week you receive a text from beomgyu.

gyu<3: can’t wait for our adventure tomorrow! :)

below the text is a link to a playlist labed “♥︎” and the first song is adoy’s swim.

I think of you

when I am sad and down

when the silence makes me cry

when it’s hard to try

I simply fall back into you

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mindfulstudyquest · 1 month

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❥﹒♡﹒☕﹒ 𝗽𝗿𝗼 𝘁𝗶𝗽𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗮'𝘀

having good grades doesn't necessarily mean you're smart, a test or exam can't always determine someone's intelligence, but it's academic validation we crave, right? so here are some tips thanks to which you will get straight a's.

𝟭. understand what the professor wants ( 🪼 )

learning the entire book by heart is tiring and basically useless. we take our education seriously, but it's impossible to know everything about everything, so inevitably there will be topics we can gloss over. check old tests, listen to the teacher during the lecture, talk to students who have already attended the course and passed the exam. understand which aspects your professor particularly cares about and concentrate on those, your exam will certainly go well.

𝟮. strengthen your memorization ( 🦋 )

very often the amount of things to study is just too much and, even though you spend all day in the library rereading the topics again and again, you feel that it is not enough. you get confused, you forget steps, you get lost in the labyrinth of the subject. investing in understanding your form of memorization will benefit you in the long run. identify your type of memory (spatial, photographic, echoic, etc.) and focus on how to improve it. having a good memory will make your studying for the exam much faster and easier.

𝟯. pay attention in class ( 🫧 )

attend all lectures and take notes. much of your studying comes from your professor's lecture. underline the important things in your textbook, carefully follow their speech and - if there are any - their powerpoint slides, writing only the things that the teacher adds and which are not written either in the book or in the extra material, if necessary, record the lesson so you can listen to it again at a later time.

𝟰. organize your notes the same day ( 🧃 )

when i take notes in class i write badly and quickly to keep up with the teacher, shortening words or omitting passages. by reorganizing your notes that same evening (at most the next day, if you really don't have time) you can revise your work when the lesson is still fresh in your mind; if you wait too long, you will forget most of the things and you will find yourself staring blankly at pages of notes which, at that point, will seem more like hieroglyphics to you than anything else.

𝟱. use ai responsibly ( 🪴 )

artificial intelligence is everywhere nowadays and why not use it to our advantage? of course i'm not suggesting that you let an ai take care of all your tests and essays, it wouldn't make sense, however very often it helped me make a list of key points to develop in a research paper, or gave me excellent ideas and insights for projects. they can also be used to create flashcards, summarize and simplify articles, or create practice tests based on the material you will have to study.

𝟲. delve deeper into your “whys” ( 🌾 )

sometimes when i study i stare into space and wonder why i am studying something that seems completely irrelevant to my path. i'm sure it happens to you too, don't ignore this feeling. don't be afraid to explore themes and topics that aren't clear to you, if two statements seem contradictory ask yourself why, if you don't understand some passages, don't be afraid to ask a question. we study for ourselves, before studying to graduate, to work. there is no shame in not understanding, your intelligence lies in striving to clarify what seems obscure.

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sarynnah · 8 months

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Che’nya Headcanons

When in heat:

- When in heat, Che’nya (like other male cats) will bite down on your neck to keep you steady as he pounds into you. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but he can’t help but to make sure you stay still while he fucks you.

- His only goal during heat is to mate; so he has a hard time focusing on anything else (like classes and hobbies) because he will be so consumed in the idea of breeding you.

- Due to him not being able to focus on anything else other than you during this time, he will probably stalk you (invisible of course) until you are in a secluded area; and then push you up against the nearest surface and take you right then and there.

- When he’s really getting into it, he’ll put you in a mating press while biting your neck, and drill into you relentlessly- in a trance from how badly his desire to breed you is.

- Unfortunately, during his heat there will be little to no prep before penetration because he has almost no self-control when it comes to his own pleasure and release; but after his heat, he will be very caring and will make sure you’re well taken care of and satisfied to make up for it.

- When he is ready to release, his member will swell up and form a knot- keeping you connected to him until his seed is settled in you. He loves snuggling into the nape of your neck when this happens, enjoying the warmth you give off.

His Body:

- Che’nya for sure has a sleeper build - so his outer appearance won’t look like there’s much muscle mass, but when his clothes are off you can definitely tell that he’s toned.

- His tongue (like other felines) has a sand-paper like texture to it, but it is only slight. Due to this, the sensation of him licking your nipples and sex is amplified - and leaves your skin with a red hue after. He loves to savor your taste, so you’d better be prepared to put up with the sensitivity his tongue is sure to inflict upon you.

- Like most cats, the area around his tail will be sensitive to touch; and he is very conscious of this. When you accidentally graze him there he would blush up and his hair would spike as an involuntary reaction; and he would try to brush it off as if nothing happened. However, if you touched him there on purpose he wouldn’t let you get away with it; pinning you down and showing you what it feels like to be teased like that. It isn’t fair is it?

- Due to his feline features, Che’nya naturally has heightened hearing; meaning he can catch even the smallest noises you make… and he loves it. He likes to hear your little squeaks when he teases you, and especially loves the lewd noises you let out while he’s touches and fucks you.

Extras:

- When Che’nya feels relaxed with you (and in general) he may purr to express his comfort. Whether it’s when you guys are winding down and tired after sex, or just when cuddling, he will start purring. He knows you love it; and it warms his heart when he notices you falling asleep to the feeling of the vibration on your skin.

- He likes everyone knowing that you are his, so to ward off the other beastmen from making advances towards you, he scent marks you. He does this by nuzzling up to you and rubbing his scent glands (behind his ears, his eyebrows, neck, etc.) on your skin - subtly marking you in the process. You think it’s just him being cute and playful; but in reality it’s him telling other beastmen to fuck off.

This is my first headcanon post so I hope you guys like it! Let me know what you think, or if you have any requests for a character or scenario you want to see next!

#che’nya #twst x reader #twst wonderland #twst #twst yuu #twst oc #headcanon #smut #twst smut #twst chenya #lemon #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland #gn reader #brainrot

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007reid · 8 months

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coffee caramels. spencer reid

this is my submission for the cm meet cute (or not) challenge by @imagining-in-the-margins ! i did VERY loose research on the stuff spencer sprouts off on because i am not our boy genius so sorry if there are any inaccuracies ':( this is my first time writing for spencer but i literally love it so much and i'd love to write more so plz flood my inbox with requests for him plzzz 😭

pairing: fem!reader x spencer reid

prompt: character sits next to a stranger in the theater, but the two end up bonding when there's a technical glitch.

warnings: slightly grumpy!reader and sunshine!spencer my fav trope <333 confident reader, reader makes the first move, spencer being a bbg and blushing a lot ;)) all the good stuff

word count: 2.7k

you arrived at the theater ten minutes early, bee-lined to the popcorn section and asked for extra butter. you loaded your oily popcorn up with coffee caramels and chocolate-covered coffee beans and bought a large coke. you walked in the theater, confident and fully armed with enough caffeine to hopefully keep you awake during the entire thing. you have tape in your bag to peel your eyes open just in case things go south, but you're confident enough to believe that it won't.

because it can't.

"aelita," your professor had said on friday, "is a russian phenomenon, and it is one of my top favorite films. considering how you are all in a russian literature class, i can make the safe assumption that you are all interested in russian culture."

now, not only were you in a russian literature class as an elective like two-thirds of your class, you were also a russian literature and poetry major. how you ended with that major baffles you and there hasn't been a day where you wanted to choose another major, but there hasn't been a day where you weren't depressed about your poor decision-making either. it's a battle you fight every day.

"aelita was first screened in 1924, and this year, next week, there will be a worldwide re-screening of the film in its originality, no edits, completely authentic, except with added subtitles for those who need it, of course," this was when your professor got very stern. "i want all of you to go and watch it. if you don't want to, fine, but there will be an assessment grade on this movie. this is not optional. i believe that the content of this movie is very true to our..."

at that point you had stopped listening, because you knew what your professor wanted you to do, and you dreaded doing it.

two hours, silent, black and white, russian film with subtitles. and you have to hang onto the movie's every word.

not your ideal saturday night plans, but for your academic career, you were willing to take that leap; looking like a sore loser at the empty theater with black framed glasses on instead of getting fucked up in someone's bathtub. it's fine. the partying was all up to the business majors anyway.

when you walked into the theater, it was, understandably, vacant, save for a couple men and women with graying hair or bald scalps and bad backs. you were clearly not the target audience. none of them had snacks on them either, and you felt awkward being the one responsible for the strong aroma of butter and coffee that stuffed the place the moment you walked in. a gentleman coughed in his hanker-chief and flared his nostrils. you were intimidated already.

you tracked down your seat and decided to not let any of it distract you. you needed a good grade on this assessment. you had already bombed your previous test on the imperial era; you don't need another bad grade stacked on top of it. you're acing this test, no matter what, and you're going to absorb this movie so well that it might as well be your favorite.

as you waited for the film to start, you munched on several of the coffee caramels, the caffeine slow to kick in. you shrugged it off. there's a whole bucket of sugar to fuel you through the film.

in midst of biting into a shelf of a chocolate-covered-coffee-bean, you heard a light thud and a hiss, and the quiet muttering of "i'm good, ow." an old man by the stairs called out;

"you alright, son?"

"yes sir," the man said. despite being alright, he was limping to his seat, and you watched him attentively, for there wasn't much else for you to observe. he limped closer and closer to you by row, ticket in his hand and checking the letters on the rows. he stopped at your row, and then walked crookedly and settled down in the seat right next to you.

you chewed on your popcorn as you directed your attention somewhere else, your determination slightly deflated. the film was late into starting, but you were still going strong.

"oh wow," you heard the man mumbled next to you, and looked over to see what he was talking about, nosy. but he was looking at you.

"what?" you said indignantly, immediately dropping the oily popcorn in your hand and wiping at your mouth, feeling oddly self-conscious. but mostly irritated. you'd say you hid your whiplash pretty well when you saw how pretty the man was when you looked over at him. you were so smooth with it. "chocolate on my face?"

"what? oh, no," the man breathed out a small laugh. he's got a soft, shy voice that got your insides feeling like broken tomato bits.

"then what?" you demanded, but not too authoritatively because you didn't want to chase him away. you kept it cool and in control. totally. it was hard to find eye candy in quantico, and the last place you would expect to find someone so pretty is in the theater for a fucking silent film.

even though it was dark, you could still catch the bright blush that crept up the man's neck, but it might be because he felt hot under all those layers. seriously, he was dressed like your grandpa, sweater vest, tie, collared shirt and all, but it was tied together in some kind of way that made it work, and it was the way the man carried himself that made him look youthful in all those ancient clothing.

"nothing," he ducked his head away, "i was just talking out loud."

you didn't have to be sherlock holmes to know that he was lying. "you liar," you accused, wiping your hand even more aggressively over your face. "i do have something on my face, don't i? just tell me if i do!"

"you don't have anything on your face!" he said, an indecisive and uncracked smile playing on his lips. you grumbled and turned back to look at the screen, still waiting for the film to start, popping candy in your mouth. in was silent for a merciful while, until the man said, "did you know that dmitri shostakovich conducted the music for this film and during its first showings in leningrad since the film was silent he came personally and played the piano whenever the soundtrack would be playing?"

you hummed. no you did not.

"i was surprised when i saw you, you don't look over sixty at all," the man continued. you didn't know how to take this piece of information as a compliment or an insult. "whenever i come to these things, it's only me who doesn't have grey hair. well, some people dye it, which looks pretty obvious because you can't really hide age, y'know?"

usually you'd be annoyed. very annoyed, in fact, you'd switch seats to be away from the guy. but this one's got a nice voice, and the moment he sat down you caught a scent to him immediately, that old cashmere and cotton scent that comes from old, thrifted clothes that you'll find dug deep somewhere in your grandmother's basement or in vintage stores, and sugar cookies and mint and coffee. it's a good smell, is all. you weren't being creepy about it.

"i'm not over sixty," you assured him. "just scraping twenty-two."

"oh! i'm twenty-two too!" the man said excitedly. he had child's glee to him, which you found more endearing than annoying. you didn't know why. you didn't know why you were still sitting with the man instead of scurrying three rows away like you would have normally the moment any stranger tried to attempt small talk with you.

maybe you were a changed woman.

"how crazy," you mused. you didn't sound half as interested or excited as the man did, but he had most definitely got your undivided attention. you nature tells you to not show it.

"how did you hear about this movie? i tried to get some of my friends to watch it with me, but none of them were too interested...except emily, she's usually more interested because she can speak russian but she got plans this weekend," his face fell into a thoughtful frown at the end, and the clockwork in your brain started to turn at the mention of 'emily.' was that his girlfriend? special lady? you shouldn't be googling, then.

"my professor created an assessment for this movie," at the man's inquiring look, you explained further, "it's for my russian lit class."

his eyes shone like a fucking diamond at that, as if russian lit was the most exciting thing he had ever heard of in his life. you could tell that you were looking at the kind of guy who would decline a party full of seniors to go read a dictionary at home. "is that like an elective you take? 'cause it's a subject that fascinates me a lot, but the demand for it is so slim that--"

he was cut off by the movie finally starting and flickering to life. you turned away immediately, eyes focused and attention zeroed onto the introduction screen. screw the pretty boy for now, you thought, you might as well pack your things and go back to your hometown if you fuck up this movie's assessment. it needed your attention.

black and white and grimy, a pretty font wrote 'aelita, adapted by alexei tolstoy.' but as soon as the film started, the picture quickly collapsed, blurring and then fading into black. with the audience being so small, there wasn't much commotion but whispers of confusion began to arise as the lights began to bleed more yellow, lighting up the theater more. it was as if the movie was over.

"sorry folks," a voice came from the grainy megaphone above all of them. "some trouble with the tape. we are trying our best, but not sure of our luck. all tickets will be refunded if bought online or you bring your ticket to us for a mark so you can present your current ticket right now at the next showing. thanks for your patience."

you looked exaggeratedly around, and the man in the sweater vest next to you looked equally as disappointed.

"my professor is not going to believe me," you muttered under your breath, but the man caught it anyway and chuckled quietly. you looked down at your still full bucket of popcorn and your large coke. you glanced over to the man next to you, not too smart things lottering around in your head. you travel through the subway, and the ride to your street is not until two hours. you weren't going to spend it morosely eating popcorn in the waiting lobby.

"is emily your girlfriend?" you asked suddenly. there was no point in being shy. the man's mouth unhinged from his jaw immediately, and you stared at him. his cheeks quickly stained an innocent pink.

"what?" he squeaked, his voice a higher pitch, caught off-guard. "no! no, she-she's my coworker!" he sounded almost offended.

this took you by surprise. you didn't know people who were close to their coworkers existed. "so you don't have a girlfriend?"

the blush on the man's face kept getting brighter and brighter. you bit your lip to keep from smiling like a fool. with how endeared you were by him, it's strange to think that you don't even know his name yet. it was rare for you to really be so mindful and think such soft things about somebody, especially to a stranger.

you were a changed woman. but maybe it's because of the coffee caramels messing with your head. sugar and caffeine tend to do that.

"no," the man said, then cleared his throat. he was fiddling with his fingers, an obvious stim. "no, i don't have a girlfriend."

"sweet," you grinned, "then no one would mind if i take you on a date, would they?"

he choked and got engulfed in a coughing fit, bending over in his seat. the red of his sweater vest nearly blinded you but you patted his back supportively. when his coughing ceased and he sat back up again, his eyes avoided yours for a while as he fought to keep the redness in his face down before he looked at you again.

"so?" you raised your eyebrow. "the night doesn't wait, pretty boy."

the nickname just slipped out of your mouth, and you cringed at the weight of it. how out of pocket. you were going to go home and contemplate this conversation later. but right now, you were trying to take out probably the sweetest looking boy you've ever seen, and that was a more important matter as of.

"okay," he said, and that was that.

"okay," you repeated. "let's start with finishing this, yeah?" you looked down at your bothersomely big bucket of popcorn. "we can walk to the park and eat it and feed it to the ducks."

"actually, it's not safe for ducks to consume popcorn because it causes digestive issues especially if consumed in large quantities and disrupts their natural diet," the man recited matter-of-factly, blinking at you obliviously as if he just didn't acted like a fucking android. you huffed out a laugh. handsome and smart. pretty much a package deal.

"the popcorn will be just for us then," you promised, standing up. he followed suit, as a lone line of people started to exit the theater. "i hope you aren't a serial killer in disguise," you said jokingly, but not really, because that was a genuine threat. he laughed. it was a sweet, syrupy sound that you could soak up and not get sick of for a long time.

"that's ironic," he mumbled, and it flew past your head, you being too busy maneuvering out of the rows.

"what was that?"

"nothing," he smiled, bright and easy. the initial nervousness was already beginning to melt away. when you were side by side, his hand accidentally brushed yours and when you looked up at him, he was already looking another way, pretending to be distracted by the movie posters but the red in his ears and neck gave it away. you smiled to yourself and grabbed his hand, holding your bucket of popcorn in the other.

"i forgot," you said, suddenly. his head whipped around to face you, but not before lingering his gaze at your intertwined hands. "i didn't get your name."

it was a foolish thing to say, you were holding a man's hand and you were pressed up side-by-side against him and you don't even know his name. he smiled softly, though, like he didn't mind. "i'm spencer reid."

"i'm y/n y/l/n."

"hi y/n," spencer said. you exited the theater and he started slightly swinging your joined hands. you laughed, the popcorn and candy in the bucket rattling and threatening to spill but you didn't care. "i'm a little disappointed," he said, pouting a little bit, bottom lip jutting out. "i was excited for the movie."

you breathed out an incredulous laugh. what a guy.

"i wasn't," you said, honestly. yours and spencer's arms were still swinging, and you resisted the uncharacteristic giggle bubbling at your throat. "rather be doing this instead." unexpected date at the park with a pretty boy in a red sweater vest or a boring silent film? the answer sounded pretty obvious to you.

"hm," spencer hummed, amused. "i guess i can catch the movie some other time."

"you can catch it with me," you blurted, and it sounded too early to say. you haven't had a proper conversation with the guy yet, you didn't know what he does and how he is, you didn't know whether or not he has a cat or a dog or a parrot or a ferret or if his room is kept tidy or messy, and you didn't know how much you were going to like him once the night is over. asking for a second date when the first one hadn't even started felt like too much, but it also felt like the right thing to say.

and if it's right, it's good enough for you.

spencer smiled shyly. when you turned right on the street, he pulled you back by your hand and redirected you left. "let's go the scenic route," he said, casually, and you could tell by the magenta tinge in his cheeks and the way he was firmly looking forward, avoiding your eyes that he wasn't feeling as casual as he sounded.

"want some of my popcorn?" you offered, feeling the large bucket was burdening you.

"oh, no thanks," spencer said. "i'm sure the pigeons will appreciate it more than me."

"does popcorn ruin their digestive system and disrupt their natural diet, too?"

spencer popped a large grin. it sat beautiful on his pretty face. "you listened," he said happily, and it felt like a large airbag had just inflated in your lungs. "no, i think pigeons are too used to picking our food, especially those in the city," a long pause, and "in fact, pigeons have a stronger digestive system than most birds due to adaptation, but the strongest out of all of them are vultures, whose stomach acid are so strong it doesn't get sick e eating rotten and bacteria-infested meats."

you hummed. you wished you had paid closer attention to what he said, but instead you paid attention to the smooth sound of his voice and how nice it sounded. well. you'll get there one day.

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markiemelon · 1 month

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hiiiii~~ can i request a scenario where nerd!mark and athlete!reader are on a study date and mark finds reader so cute when they don't understand the material? also bonus points if the reader is shy and doesn't want to ask for help cus they're embarrassed

Thank you!! ur writings make me so happy

focus

genre fluff ﹋֪֢ ♡︩ · no warnings!

pairings nerd!mark x athlete!reader

4:18pm — ♡

“yn,” your math teacher addressed you, “im worried that your training is interfering with your studies.”

that wasn’t the first time you’d heard that, and yet, you still couldn’t think of a good excuse to tell. “look, yn, i’ve made it easier for you by arranging some study sessions with a classmate of yours.”

you actually felt kinda relieved to hear that. surely, some extra studying couldn’t hurt.

“in fact,” he continued, “he’s right here.” he gestured to a familiar boy walking into the room.

it was mark. you knew mark, but you never crossed paths much, considering how different your priorities were…you were all about training, and mark was all about studying…

“so i have to spend the rest of my afternoon with this nerd?” you accidentally said aloud.

“now, yn, we still have to be professional during after-school hours.” your teacher demanded.

mark just chuckled and smiled at you. his round glasses and ruffled hair added a gentlemanly charm to him that made you swoon a little.

“i’ll be off now, but feel free to stay in the classroom.” your teacher said, shuffling together some lose papers. “mark, just lock up the door as usual, i trust you as our class president.”

you widened your eyes. “he’s class president?”

“you didn’t know?” mark raised an eyebrow.

“i—uhh”

“i’ll leave you guys to it then.” your teacher nodded before he exited the room.

you approached mark. “if it makes you feel any better, i didn’t even know our vice principal until last week… so um, don’t take it personally.”

with that pathetic attempt at explaining yourself, mark sensed you were nervous. he walked up to you, his arms crossed and head nodding ever so slightly. “alright.” he said with a grin. “i won’t.” he looked at you for a second longer before pulling a chair out from the desk. he insisted that you sit, and he sat beside you.

and so the studying began… you handed mark a crumpled up page from the deepest, darkest depths of your backpack, and he looked confused “do you… want me to throw this away for you?”

“no!” you snatched it back. “that’s my calculus homework!”

“oh shoot!” he couldn’t hold in his cackle. “I’m sorry— yn im sorry.” he said it with the biggest smile on his face, weak from the laughter.

“whatever. just tell me how to solve this. or save us both some time and just tell me the answers.” you slumped in your chair.

he scanned the page briefly. “yeah, so it’s simple, really..” mark inched the graph paper closer to your side of the table.

he pointed at some numbers and rambled, of course, you couldn’t keep up. so you did the next best thing, which was letting your mind drift off to somewhere else..

“actually, he’s kinda cute..” you admitted to yourself while observing his side profile.

focus.

“it must be the glasses. he looks good with glasses.” now you were noticing things you hadn’t payed any attention to before.

focus.

“why is he so close to me…” your heart skipped a beat at the realization.

suddenly, mark’s voice became clear at the mention of your name.

“yn… focus” he cooed, not even looking up from the paper. he must have felt you staring, but oddly, you didn’t look away from him.

mark stopped his writing, but he kept his pen to the paper, holding it still as he turned to face you.

almost immediately, your confident demeanor crumbled, and now, head lowered, you depended on mark’s answer to break the silence.

“solve this one. it’s what i just showed you.” he rolled his pen to you.

“oh. okay.” you hesitantly took hold of the pencil, and did your best to pretend like you understood, but mark obviously wasn’t buying it. after writing some gibberish, you gave up.

“um, mark?”

“yeah?”

“im a little embarrassed to ask… but.. can you explain it again?”

he didn’t look surprised. he looked at you endearingly. “as expected..” he chuckled, weighing his head side to side to stretch out his neck. his gaze shifted to the clock on the wall behind you. “you know, we should probably head out now.”

“already?” you looked back to see the time for yourself. he didn’t say anything for a second, he just nodded and flashed a gentle smile. “you get too distracted.” he nudged your shoulder. your cheeks burned a little when he did that. “well you’re too distracting.” you nudged him back.

mark grabbed his shoulder where you touched as if he were injured by your strength. “i’m so distracting yet you couldn’t focus on a single thing i said?” he teased you. you didn’t have a witty comeback, so you just stayed silent and stuffed some things wherever they could fit in your bag.

at that point, it was clear to both of you that the next few study sessions you had lined up, would be far more exciting…

a couple weeks of studying with mark went by, and the flirting made its way into your classes. he was getting bolder in his advances. it started with some subtle compliments but now he’s been giving you these corny winks from a across the room, and he makes it really obvious what he’s doing.

once mark started sitting next to you, hell broke loose. one time, the teacher asked the class to solve something, and you miraculously managed to figure it out before mark did. it still backfired tremendously…

“oh my gosh, i got it!” you whispered to mark. “it’s 29!”

he smiled at you for a second, before raising his hand, while simultaneously blurting out, “29! it’s 29!”

your teacher looked pleased. “that was quick, mark. as always, you never disappoint me with your calculating abilities.”

mark threw is head back laughing as quietly as he could, and you kicked his leg underneath the table.. as hard as you could.

later, you would find yourself sitting with mark, side by side, staring down at your math textbook.

“okay, tell me the answer to number 4.”

you didn’t even try to hide the fact that you had no idea what was going on. “i don’t know it.”

mark paused and laughed out of disbelief. “yn, it’s a good thing you wanna be an athlete and not a mathematician.”

what he said was true, but it annoyed you regardless, so you snapped back.

“and it’s a good thing you’re cute, ‘cause that’s the only reason i haven’t killed you yet.”

“psh,” he laughed in an exhale. “are you into me or something?” he kept his eyes fixed on the paper in front of him.

you giggled, “i think that’s the first time i’ve actually known the answer to a question you’ve asked me.” you smirked to yourself, feeling proud of your smooth talking.

when he didn’t respond, you continued.

“yknow.. mark, for being top of the class, i thought you’d have a bit more common sense.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he didn’t even bother looking at you.

“yes, mark, i’m into you.”

he still avoided looking your way, but he couldn’t hold back his smile. you stayed staring at your cute math tutor, and you could tell it was making him shy. “yn. focus.” he tapped his pencil on the table.

you tried to pout. “but the math isn’t cute...”

he tapped his pencil more aggressively.

you didn’t try to fight back. you started jotting some things down desperately trying to figure out the equation, until he tapped his pencil again. “yn. i need you to focus.”

annoyed, you jerked your head to face him. “i am focused. im literally doing the math-” your eyes traced his features.

“no, i mean on this.”

“on what?”

he smiled and tapped his pencil to his cheek.

“i need you to focus on me.”

this ended up being longer than intended... but thank you thank you so much for requesting, im so happy to hear that you like my writingggggggggff!!!!! also sorry this took so long, im kinda backed up on requests LOL.

-🍉

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