#and beloved phone and phone bag

[mystickinz]

ITS MY BIRTHDAY!!!!

[msburgundy]

kind of excited for my appt on tuesday because i got sent a bag of fun toys and i wonder if we will play with them

[choccorin]

thinking about rin having a girly girlfriend who's obsessed with adorable pastel-colored things .. he'd look so out of place inside your bedroom, it's filled with cute posters, mini and big figurines of sanrio and your favorite fictional characters, pastel colored clothes, and your bed has your beloved stuff toys at every corner.

his backpack would have cute keychains and plushies hanging on them, some were a gift from you and some are yours that you just wanted to him to have on his bag (your bag is heavy from all the keychains you have, plus there's no more space).

just imagine him looking intimidating and scary, but then you hear the loud clinking of pastel colored keychains hanging from his bag. he doesn't mind having them, sure it's a bit loud and distracting, but it prevents girls (and sometimes boys) from approaching, asking him for his number.

he calls it a repellent of some sorts.

and !!!! he also has a bracelet that you gave him, a pink colored one with an owl charm. if he has a clear phone case, then a polaroid photo of you (or the two of you) would definitely be in it. if not, he'd have a picture of you as his lockscreen, specifically a photo that you don't know about.

people who seem him for the first time in campus think “oh .. that guy definitely has a lover.”, and give up the motive of asking him for his name or number.

[connorsui]

Hi! Can I ask for a Sylus fluff, where he gives the reader his bank card for her to go shopping, and he expects a bill to be at least $10,000, but all he sees is about $100. So he asks her if she bought everything she wanted, and she says something like "yeah, there were such good discounts, I didn't spend too much, did I?"

And man is just ಠ⁠益⁠ಠ GIRL GO SPEND MY MONEY I WANT TO SPOIL YOU

My beloved @lalaluch I cannot explain to you just how much fun this was to even imagine but let alone even WRITE 🩷 like I was losing my mind trying to bust out my Google docs to even make this. But my sickness was literally getting to me that all I could do was imagine--but anywhoo now that it's finally done I hope you all enjoy it ✨️

p.s: I hope this sickness finally leaves me because it be making me internally cry on the inside ...I pray for prayers lol 💅🏻

BUDGET QUEEN

It had taken weeks of gentle coaxing, half-joking remarks, and the occasional exasperated sigh before you’d reluctantly agreed. You had this stubborn streak, an insistence on independence that both irritated and fascinated him. But today, you’d finally caved.

“You’ll take it,” Sylus had said that morning, slipping the sleek card into your hand, his fingers brushing against your palm. “No arguments. No excuses.”

You had sighed, rolling your eyes. “Fine. But I’m not going crazy with it?!”

He had only smirked, knowing full well you would—and knowing full well that he wanted you to.

And now, hours later, he awaited the results.

Sylus leaned back in his leather chair, his crimson eyes flicking lazily over the documents cluttering his desk. A rare break in his usual chaos had him sipping on his usual drink, savoring the brief quiet. That was until his phone buzzed. He set his glass down and checked the notification, a message from his bank popping up.

He expected it—he wanted it. You had finally caved to his insistence after a literal month of convincing and taken his black card to go shopping. He’d envisioned the inevitable message all morning, something like:

One-hundred million spent at Celine and The Row’s combined?

Or perhaps?

Fifty million at Loro Piana?

You’d mentioned their beauty and elegance more than once.

Nevertheless, the man wanted indulgence, excess—you deserved it, after all.

Instead, the message read:

$157.45 at… Assorted Stores.

Sylus stared at the screen, unblinking. Surely, this was a mistake. He refreshed his balance multiple times. Same amount. He checked for pending transactions. None.

“…What?” he muttered, his irritation simmering beneath the surface. He slammed his phone down, crossing his arms as he waited for you to return.

Minutes later, the front door opened, and you walked in, humming happily, two bags dangling from your arms. You looked utterly content, your warm smile sending a pang through Sylus’s chest. He didn’t want to ruin the moment, but he had questions.

“You’re back,” he said, leaning against the doorframe to his study, watching you set the bags down in the living room. His towering presence cast a shadow over you, his white hair catching the light, giving him an almost otherworldly aura.

“Yup!” you chirped, rifling through the bags. “You wouldn’t believe the deals I found today! It’s like the universe knew I had your card!”

Sylus squinted. “Deals?”

“Yeah! Everything was on sale! I even had coupons for some things. Oh, and this boutique downtown was having a clearance event! It was amazing!” You beamed at him, oblivious to his growing disbelief.

“Clearance? ..…How much did you spend?” he asked, his voice neutral. Too neutral.

“Um…” You frowned, pulling your phone out to check. “About a few hundred, I think? Oh, wait—like one-fifty! I didn’t spend too much, did I?” You tilted your head, as if genuinely concerned.

Sylus stared at you, his expression shifting to one of incredulous disbelief. His red eyes seemed to glow, and his lips pressed into a thin line. It was the look of a man deeply offended. Not by you—but by the principle.

“…That’s it?” he asked, his voice sharp but measured, as if he were trying to comprehend an alien concept. “One-fifty?”

You blinked up at him, a little confused by his tone. “Well, yes… I mean, I didn’t want to waste your money—”

“Waste my—” He cut himself off, running a hand through his snowy hair. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. “Sweetheart,” he said slowly, “do you have any idea why I gave you my card?”

“To… buy some stuff?” you offered, suddenly feeling like you were missing something obvious.

“To spoil you,” he emphasized, stepping closer. “To treat you like the queen you are. To shower you in luxury. And you—” He gestured to the modest shopping bags on the floor, his voice taking on a dramatic edge. “—come back with clearance items?”

Your cheeks flushed. “But… I didn’t need anything expensive! I found good deals, and I thought—”

“No.” Sylus leaned down slightly, bringing himself to eye level with you, his crimson eyes boring into yours. “Listen to me, love. I don’t care about the price tag. I want you to have the best. The fact that you’re this thoughtful is adorable—don’t get me wrong—but next time…” He paused, his voice dropping into a softer, more commanding tone. “…I want to see receipts that would make the average person cry.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m not.” He straightened, towering over you again, his arms crossing. “Do you know how much money I make? How much I’ve set aside specifically to spoil you?”

“I can guess?…”

“Clearly not if you’re spending less than a casual dinner out on everything.” His voice was calm, but laced with unmistakable disapproval.

Then, with a breath, he softened—only slightly. “I just want to see you dressed in diamonds,” he corrected, stepping closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over you. “To watch you slip into golden heels that make you shine like the goddess you are. To drape you in silk and velvet, to see you standing before me in a dress that costs more than a car and still doesn’t compare to your worth.”

Your lips parted slightly, caught off guard by the sudden weight in his words.

“I gave you my card,” he continued, voice lower now, intimate, “because I want you to indulge. To spoil yourself the way I ache to spoil you. Because you deserve to walk into a store and not think—just watch and admire”

Your throat went dry.

He lifted his hand, fingers brushing over your wrist before tracing upward, his touch featherlight against your skin. “I want to see you try on jewelry without looking at the price tag,” he murmured. “I want to sit back and watch as a saleswoman fumbles to put a necklace around your throat because her hands are shaking too much from the sheer amount of wealth wrapped around you.”

His gaze dipped lower, lingering on your frame as he exhaled through his nose. “And instead… you bring me deals?”

Your heart pounded, a mix of amusement and something else entirely stirring in your chest. “I didn’t think I needed to spend that much—”

“You don’t need to,” he interrupted, thumb ghosting over your jawline. His voice was softer now, but no less commanding. “But I want you to.”

Your face heated.

“Next time, I’m going with you.”

“What, to make sure I spend enough?” you teased.

“Yes,” he said, dead serious. “And to carry your bags. And to remind you that you can have whatever you want.” His red eyes softened slightly, and he tilted your chin up with two fingers. “All I want is to see you happy. No discounts required.”

You smiled at his sincerity, warmth blooming in your chest. “Okay, fine. Next time, I’ll go a little crazier. Maybe five million?” you joked.

Sylus groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Woman, you’re going to be the death of me.”

You laughed, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. “You’re so dramatic, you know that?”

“And you’re too frugal for your own good,” he shot back, pulling you into his arms. His voice softened, turning almost playful. “But I guess I’ll just have to teach you how to spend properly.”

“Looking forward to it,” you said, grinning against his chest.

Sylus sighed, resting his chin atop your head. As much as he wanted to spoil you senseless, he couldn’t help but love your thoughtful, practical side. It was part of what made you you—and he wouldn’t trade that for anything.

Still, next time… he was definitely making sure you left the store with at least an entire closet filled with designer bags.

For his sanity—and yours.

[beloveds-embrace]

The “Shared wife” trope and you’re John Price’s darling little housewife. The light of his life. His precious angel. The home he keeps in his house.

You are truly the best thing that has happened to him; all soft smiles and sweet words, a warm embrace he can melt to and shed all of the sharp edges he must bear whenever he’s deployed and carries the weight of the world across his shoulders.

The same world outside your little home was a cruel one, one where John had made more enemies than he cared to count. Each mission, each order barked into a comms unit, and each bullet fired carried a price- one that weighed on him more heavily than the tactical vest he wore.

But there was you, and he’d do it all again if it means having you safe and sound.

His darling. His beloved. The soft warmth of your hands, the sweetness of your smile. You were his sanctuary, his reprieve from the shadows of his work. And because of that, he could not- would not- allow anything to take you from him.

It wasn’t just him anymore, though. They were always there, watching. Protecting- for you belonged to John, and so did they, but you weren’t sharpened like them and you didn’t have to be; they’d be sharp enough for you, too. Guard dogs, their leashes held by John.

Especially when John tugged on those leashes and had them stay with you while he was away on a different mission. As if he’d ever leave you alone, all by your lonesome.

Kyle was the easiest to adjust, his role almost seamless. He lingered in the background, watchful but not intrusive and never forceful in joining your space, his easy charm disarming to anyone who might venture too close. He’d follow John’s orders without hesitation, his voice steady over the phone and comms after Price sent him to patrol the property’s edges.

“It’s quiet out here,” he’d murmur, voice a low hum in the radio. “No sign of trouble. As it should be.”

Soap, of course, tugged harder on the leash. He had energy to spare, bounding about the property like an overzealous hound. But it wasn’t just his sharp instincts that made him invaluable; it was his ability to diffuse tension with a grin and a joke, to make you feel like the safest person in the world, and coax you back inside while distracting you from whatever lingered outside.

It shouldn’t be for you to worry. All you needed to do was stay your lovely, content self, curled up all warm and cozy in your favorite spots like a particularly cherished kitten.

“Dinnae worry, lass,” he’d say as he hefted a bag of groceries from your car, muscles flexing under his shirt. “Nothin’ gets past us. We’re like the bloody Buckingham Palace guards- but more handsome. What are you making for lunch? How about I show you a family recipe, eh?”

And then there was Simon.

Ghost was quiet, his presence as much a shadow as his name suggested. But you always knew when he was near, the subtle shift in the air around you as his dark eyes followed your every move. He was the one who lingered just a little longer after everyone else had gone to bed, his massive frame nearly invisible against the darkened walls and only showing himself just so you wouldn’t get frightened.

“You don’t have to do that.” You’d tell him softly, catching sight of him through the kitchen window as he circled the house, even though you were so sure John was overreacting and these men needed to calm down. “Si, please. It’s cold tonight, too.”

But he would only shake his head, low and unyielding. “It’s my job to keep you safe. Don’t worry about me. Let’s get you back inside, Price’ll have my head if you catch a cold.”

And John truly kept them in line, orders sharp and precise. It was a dynamic they understood instinctively, honed from years of serving under him. He was their captain, their leader, their handler, and when it came to you, his commands were absolute.

But you were the one who softened them.

It started small: a hand on Kyle’s shoulder when he seemed tense, massaging the knots out, a gentle laugh at one of Soap’s outrageous jokes with his hand on your lower back, a quiet “thank you” murmured to Ghost as he handed you something you hadn’t even asked for yet ended up needing. They responded to you as if they were attuned to you, sharp edges dulling in your presence until they were handing you the leashes themselves.

Soap once joked about it- how they were like a pack of loyal dogs, their ears pricking up whenever you entered the room.

“You’ve got us all wrapped around your little finger, love,” he’d teased, earning a gruff “Shut it, MacTavish” from Price. Because they stayed, even when John returned. Because they belonged.

But it was true.

They followed John’s orders without question, but when you asked something of them, it wasn’t obedience- it was devotion. Ask them for the world, and they will drag it to your doorstep bleeding and heaving. Ask them for the sun, and they will tear it out of the sky to present it to you on burnt palms.

“Simon, will you check the garden gate for me? I think the latch is loose again.” You’d say, and he’d rise without hesitation, broad shoulders brushing the doorway as he left. And then he’d return, and patiently wait until you’d kiss his cheek.

“Kyle, do you mind grabbing the mail? It’s pouring out there.”

“Anything for you, darling.” Gaz would reply, already pulling on his jacket, and when he’d return he’d make sure you wouldn’t get wet while he leaned down and stole a kiss on your forehead.

“Johnny, help me with this jar, will you?”

“Aye, lass, but only if you kiss me.” Soap would tease, though he’d already have the jar in hand, his grin softening when you rolled your eyes. Still, he’d obediently lower his head for you to peck.

And John watched it all with quiet pride. They were his men, and he trusted them with his life. Now, he trusted them with yours. Because they were his, and you were his, and all of you should have been together from the start anyways.

You were worth protecting. Worth loving. Worth the world itself, because you were one and the same to them.

The first time you teased him about it- about how he seemed to have the entire Task Force at his beck and call- he simply pulled you into his arms and kissed you until you were clinging to his shoulders, breathless and warm.

“They’d do anything for you,” he murmured against your hair, then. “Same as me. You’re ours to protect.”

It was possessive, yes, but not in a way that stifled you, not like shackles that bound you to a prison. It wasn’t a cage; it was a fortress, each of them a stone in the walls that kept you safe.

And you, their sweet, lovely little wife, were the center of it all. Safe, cherished, and loved beyond measure.

[rin-may-1103]

The Eyes of Death.

This story is mostly inspired by Jaybirbie's prompt | Master post | Next?

"Hey, sweetheart?" Danny called, quickly jotting down the last sentence for his paper. He'd have to remember to go back and reread it and make sure he didn't trail off into another tangent. He swears he wasn't this bad at managing his ADHD back in Amity...

"Yes, Danny?" Damian asked, turning back from the door to face him as he scrolled further down the story he was reading. The familiar font of Gotham City's gazette blurred as a picture of Mr. Freeze and Penguin finally loaded. So that's what was going on. Danny should have known; the bats already dealt with the other usual rouges, and these two were next on the list.

"Can you walk with me? I just know Nancy and her boyfriend are out there, waiting. I really don't want to deal with them again... We could spend more time at my place? Tucker sent me another movie, and I'm unsure if I should watch it alone after last time." Danny pleaded, quickly shoving all of his papers into his bag. He'd deal with straightening them out later, it wasn't like his professors weren't used to his wrinkled essays at this point.

However, he should probably redo the blueprints for Workshop. Mr. Anthlow was a hardass, but nothing could compare to his anger when a student handed in wrinkled blueprints; he claimed he wasn't going to have another 'Tanner' incident on his watch, whatever the heck that meant.

He was not looking forward to whatever Nancy wanted to talk to him about, she looked excited. Which could only mean bad things for him; considering the last time she was excited, he ended up spending time with Bane of all people. And there was no way her boyfriend was just going to let Danny get away again.

Damian grimaces, finally looking up and away from his phone. "I'm sorry beloved..." he held up the device just in time to show an incoming text from his Father, "I promised Father I'd be home a while ago. And with what's happening down on-"

"It's ok, I'll just head out the back door," Danny cut in, seeing the start of guilt on his boyfriend's face. He knew how much Danny hated having to deal with those two, and the fact Damian hasn't been able to even introduce himself to them hasn't helped. With a smile, Danny scooped up his textbooks and made his way to stand in front of Damian, "They can't bother me if they don't see me!"

Unsurprisingly, Danny could feel the guilt grow and start to float around Damian as the boy glanced at his phone, the message tone sounding out again in warning.

Danny only met Damian's father once; it was just a simple shake of hands and sharing names before the man ran off, but it did leave an impression. The man felt tired and paranoid; like, to the point Danny kind of wanted to drag Jazz over and lock the two of them in a room, paranoid. (Danny wants to say he's never seen someone that paranoid, but he'd be lying. He looks in the mirror after all.)

The point is; Danny's only met the man once, but that was enough for him to know that the man would tear down the world if he thought for even a second that one of his kids was in danger. This meant, that if Damian didn't go and reassure his father that he was alive and safe within the next sixty or so seconds, then there was a possibility that there wouldn't be another date for at least another week.

And considering this "study date" was supposed to make up for the last one Damian had missed because of his Father? Yeah, Danny wasn't going to be happy if Damian got grounded or dragged into another 'surprise' family road trip because his father was convinced his children would be dead before the 'yearly' planned get-together in November.

They had a trip to the zoo planned for tomorrow, and Delilah was supposed to be allowed out with her kids. This would be Delilah's first public outing since her kids' birth. There's no way Danny was going to allow Damian to miss that. (he swears to the ancients, if there was a rouge attack he was going to kill someone, Dark Dan's future be damned.)

Lifting his heels off the ground so he could stand on his tiptoes, Danny snagged Damian's arm and pulled him down so he could kiss his cheek. "I'll get home safe, just focus on keeping your dad from going insane. We've got a date at the zoo tomorrow and we're not missing it even if your father becomes the next city rogue."

Damian wrapped his arms around Danny, trapping him in a hug as he sighed in fond frustration. "I promise I won't miss it, ok? I'll be there."

Danny rolled his eyes and pushed Damian back, dropping back to stand on the ground, "You better, 'cause hell hath no fury like a gorilla denied the chance to meet her human best friend's boyfriend."

Damian snorted, before looking away and pretending to cough. Danny moved his textbooks to rest more securely in one of his arms, so he could point at his boyfriend. "I'm not kidding, if I show up tomorrow and tell her all about my life and you're not there, she will break out and track you down. I won't stop her either, you'd deserve whatever she does to you."

"Alright, alright. I get it, and I already promised I'd be there didn't I?" Damian chuckled, raising his hands up in surrender. Which would have been cute if it wasn't for the fact that his phone went off again, this time in an insistent buzzing. His eldest brother's ringtone; which meant Damian was going to be busy for a while.

Cursing, Damian turned and answered, "I'm in the middle of something, this better be important Grayson," glancing back at Danny, he mouthed for him to wait a moment as his brother started talking.

Smiling, Danny shook his head, snatched Damian's jacket, and started making his way out the door. There was no way Damian would finish this phone call any time soon. Danny's learned not to wait after the last four times this happened. Damian turned back with betrayed eyes, but the urgent voice of his brother buzzing even louder held him back. Waving goodbye with a smile, Danny shut the door and started making his way down the hall.

He'd have to ask Damian what happened tomorrow, Grayson didn't usually call him, especially when he knew Damian was spending time with Danny. He said it had something to do with how it was sacrilege to interrupt time spent with a significant other. Danny had wanted to ask him more about it but hadn't gotten the chance when The Riddler crashed their spontaneous meeting.

Speaking of The Riddler, Danny's social science paper wasn't looking too hot right now. He'd have to block out a time for him to work on that at some point this week. He wasn't doing anything on Friday, well, besides his early morning classes. That should work...

"Hey, Danny!" someone called, pulling him out of his musing. Glancing up, Danny internally groaned when he noticed Nancy waving at him in sheer delight. Giving her a half-hearted wave, Danny sped up and continued making his way to the back of the library. If he was quick enough maybe he could-

To his dismay, Nancy's boyfriend stepped out from behind one of the shelves and latched onto his arm. Tightly.

Just great, this is exactly what he wanted to avoid. Curse his inability to pay attention when he got lost in thought. Damn ADHD. Blasted non-existent spatial awareness. This was what he got for relying on his ghost sense, he just knows it.

"She said hi, kind of rude of you to just keep walking, Kid." Wyatt huffed, roughly dragging Danny back and towards his girlfriend. Nancy smiled brightly as Wyatt let him go, allowing Nancy to weave her arm with Danny's and practically drag him toward the front of the building.

"There's this big party going on tonight, some Jr invited us. He said it was going to be a night to remember! You should totally come with us, Danny! My friend Shela said she was bringing her nerdy freshmen too! I just know you'd fit right in with them!" Nancy squealed excitedly, shaking Danny as they finally made it to the front doors.

One of the desk attendants rolled their eyes at them as Danny glanced over, hoping that Barbara might intervene. No such luck, she was nowhere in sight, probably off somewhere shelving books. So much for that plan.

"uh, thanks, but I already-" Danny tried, stopping when Nancy scoffed and yanked him out the door and into the frosty night. "Damn, it's cold!" Wyatt cursed, taking his jacket off and quickly handing it over to Nancy. She let go of Danny and pulled it on, then stared at Danny for a moment, "Put your coat on Danny, no way in hell am I letting my kid catch a cold!"

Rolling his eyes, Danny wrapped Damian's coat over his shoulders. He was too lazy to actually put it on, not when that meant handing his textbooks over. The last time he did that, Nancy got bored and started doodling all over them. (how she had managed to do that in the little time it took to put a hoodie on, Danny wasn't sure.)

"I just want to go home, Nancy. I'm not really a party person." Danny sighed, allowing Nancy to drag him down the dark streets. His apartment was in this general direction anyway. Nancy turned to her boyfriend with a huff, "Wyatt! make him come with us!"

"Let the nerd do what he wants, it's not like it affects us if he kicks the bucket all alone," Wyatt grumbled, rolling his eyes.

Ouch, but true. Please listen to your grumpy boyfriend, please listen to your grumpy boyfriend, please listen-

"But Shela said she was bringing Carly!" Nancy turned back to Danny, a pout clear on her face, "You two would be so cute together! she's nerdy just like you! And she's totally into all those murder mystery shows you watch!"

Damn it. Not this crap again.

"That's nice, Nancy, but I'm not interested. I already told you guys, I have a boyfriend," Danny sighed, trying to gently extract his arm from hers; for a human, Nancy sure had one heck of a grip.

"Yeah, right," Wyatt snorted, patting Danny's back, completely ignoring the fact that Danny was literally wearing someone else's jacket. "We'll believe you when you introduce us, until then. You're a virgin loser."

And there we go, people; the reason Danny wanted to crawl into the sewer and die whenever he saw these two. They were nice, don't get him wrong, but they were also stubborn idiots.

"Being a virgin has nothing to do with my relationship status, Wyatt. I'm ace. you've known this since the first time we talked." Danny grumbled, allowing Nancy to drag him down another street. He wasn't sure exactly where they were going now, but he was too tired to care at this point.

If these self-claimed 'Parents' of his wanted to drag him to this stupid party, then fine. Whatever. It's not like Danny had any other plans tonight anyway.

"Asexuality isn't a thing man," Wyatt huffed, speeding up so he could guide them in the right direction now that they were heading into a rougher patch of buildings. Danny could see the man was shivering, though trying to act tough in front of Nancy. Smirking, Danny sent a cold breeze his way. The man scowled up at the sky, cursing quietly.

"Yeah!" Nancy agreed, smiling brightly down at Danny without a care in the world. Like they didn't have this conversation every other week. "You just haven't met the right person yet, Danny! And I know how awkward it is to admit that you're staying celibate until marriage, but you don't have to hide it behind being ace."

Taking a deep breath, Danny closed his eyes and focused on not shouting out of frustration. The celibate comment was new, the acephobia, not so much. "Ok, first of all; Asexuality is a thing, which many people ARE. Literally, 1% of the world is ace. That's over 70 million people. Second of all, I'm not celibate, and I'm not sure if you even know what that means, considering you know I was raised Atheist."

"What does being an Atheist have to do with celibacy?" Nancy asked, tilting her head to look at him. Danny groaned, smacking his forehead against his textbooks. He was NOT going to explain this to them tonight.

"You know what, Nancy? It doesn't matter." Danny huffed, trying again to gently pry her hands off. He wanted to go home. He wanted to cuddle with his boyfriend. He wanted to go back to Amity. Maybe go to the realms and play with Cujo. He did NOT want to deal with these idiots.

Wyatt stopped walking and turned to face them, rolling his eyes as Nancy pouted at Danny. "Come on babe, let the loser go. He obviously doesn't appreciate your efforts."

"but who else is going to convince him to live a little? He's just going to go back to his apartment and sulk by himself!" Nancy cried, tightening her grip again.

"Who cares what the kid does, Nancy? let the dude die a virgin loser. Now let's go, we're already late as is."

"But I really want him to-," Nancy tried, cutting herself off, as both she and Danny spotted a cloaked person appear out of the shadows behind Wyatt.

Wyatt lifted his brow before slowly turning to see what the two of them were staring at. The cloaked figure suddenly whacked him over the head with a metal pole before he could fully turn around. Wyatt's body dropped to the ground with a heavy thump, making Nancy scream, "Wyatt!"

Shit, Danny stepped back, trying to pull Nancy with him as the cloak dude tossed the metal pole to the side with a loud clank. Which was confusing, why would he through away his weapon?

"Shut her up!" the cloak dude cried, bending down to grab Wyatt's arms. He better not be telling Danny to do that, because that would just be stupid and- Suddenly, a dozen more cloaked people flooded out of the darkness and surrounded them. That answered Danny's questions at least.

Danny tensed up as a couple of the people tried to grab onto him. Quickly pulling Nancy back, successfully this time, Danny glanced around to try and find an exit. He couldn't do anything crazy right now, not unless he wanted to give away his secret, but some self-defense should be fine.

Nancy suddenly let go of his arm and smacked one of the cloaked people in the face, "Don't you fucking dare touch me! Wyatt! Kid, get out of here!"

Danny turned to her in alarm, eyes wide in horror as she quickly disappeared into the cloaked crowd. Another cloaked person managed to latch onto Danny's shoulder, reminding him to focus on his situation. Quickly stepping back, he slammed into the man grabbing him, knocking his grip loose. Ducking under another attempt, Danny swung out his leg and tripped the dude into two others.

Twisting to try and make his way over to where he figured Nancy was, Danny dropped his textbooks and punched someone in the face. Damian's jacket was yanked off his shoulders, making him turn with a growl. Punching another person in the face, Danny lunged at the group.

"Hurry! before the bats find us!" the supposed leader cried, making even more cloaked people surround Danny. There was no way a normal civilian would be able to fight their way out of this, so Danny would have to allow himself to be caught soon. Only after biting and scratching the fuck out of them though. Just because he had to let them catch him, doesn't mean he has to make it easy.

~30 min later

Danny stared at the leader as the man droned on and on about needing the right sacrifice for the ritual to work. Nancy and Wyatt grumbled behind him, agreements from the other kidnapped victims filling Danny's ears like bees.

"The sacrifice shall be the one who treads the veil between life and death, the one who's beloved by the spirits as their own! He shall be pale as a corpse, his body kissed by death many times throughout his life. His hair as black as the sky on a moonless night, cradled by the moon since birth." Mr. totally-read-one-fake-ritual-book-when-he-was-a-teen-and-now-has-to-make-it-everyone's-problem droned on dramatically, reverently dragging his finger down the old dusty tome's page,

"so Mr. Wayne?" Nancy huffed, pressing her back into Danny's side. Wyatt chuckled, shoving his foot into Danny's knee, "No, it's totally Mr. Drake he's talking about. Have you seen that dude's eyebags? they make him look like a ghost."

One of the strangers leaned over, rolling their eyes, "No, it's got to be Mr. Dent. The dude's literally half living half not."

"No, Two-Face is half insane, half burnt chicken. Ain't nothing about him going to please ghosts. He was a fucking lawyer, for Christ shake." another guy added.

"the dude said 'he' which crossed out half of y'all," Danny added, glancing at the group around him. The women blinked and then rolled their eyes; only in Gotham would they get kidnapped and not actually be needed.

"Assholes," Nancy huffed, she glanced over her shoulder and down at him, her face set into a frown, "You good, kid? you're like freezing cold."

"I'm fine," Danny huffed, focusing back on the leader. He could just feel the old magic rolling off the book; this was something dangerous, especially in this dipshit's hands. Ancients, he was going to have to do everything he could to keep the man from actually doing the ritual or mess it up if the bats didn't get here in time.

One of the cloaked people suddenly dragged a camera out from a side room, grumbling about networks and livestreams being shit. Huh, well that would definitely help provide their location to the bats. They must be really inexperienced cultists then...

"The sacrifice shall fall into our hands by fate's design. The sacrifice is here and waiting for what his whole life was meant for. Now-"

"Elder!" one of the other cloaked figures cried, waving their phone in the air in excitement. Dread quickly filled Danny's stomach.

"All the bats and birds are busy dealing with those scoundrels they call rouges! If we hurry, we can complete the ritual before they can interfere!"

"Perfect!" Mr. 'Elder', cheered, slamming the tome closed and handing it off to one of the others. "So?" Mr. Elder started, turning to face them with a sharp grin, "Who's it going to be?"

Danny glanced at the group behind him, all of them having gone silent as the cloaked group started pulling out their ritual things, one of which was a very blood-stained knife.

Mr. Elder started circling them, humming and hawing as he studied each one of them. He stopped next to Wyatt, studying him intently.

Quickly weighing his options, Danny straightened up and glared at the man, "I'll be your sacrifice."

Immediately Nancy leaned away from him with a gasp, Wyatt's foot dropping to the floor with a thud. "Danny, no!" Nancy hissed, turning her body so she could face him. Danny didn't glance at her, just continued glaring at the cultist. The cult leader laughed, "Well then. So it shall be! You heard the sacrifice, tie him to the chair!"

With everyone watching, all Danny could do was tense as four of the followers walked over and pulled him up. "No!" Nancy shouted, leaning over and grabbing onto him. Wyatt reached out to Nancy, wanting to pull her back. The men tensed up, ready to interfere. Quickly pulling back, Danny frowned at Nancy and Wyatt, "I'll be ok, just don't do anything stupid!"

They harshly pulled him up and away again, before Nancy could reply. And because he was already pissed off, he made it as difficult for them as possible as they dragged him to the wooden chair. The camera person focused the lens on them, recording it as they shoved him down to sit and wrapped a bloody rope around his limbs.

So much for thinking they were inexperienced... They've done this before, he knows now. How many times? He wasn't sure, but if he had any say in it after tonight, they'd never do it again.

Once he was securely tied to the chair and gagged, because Danny couldn't help himself but insult them, the cultist started preparing the ritual. Why they hadn't done so beforehand, Danny wasn't sure; that is until one of them sliced a deep gash into his right arm and collected his blood into a bowl.

With a grimace, Danny watched as they mixed his blood with black paint and started drawing a circle around him. The camera dude stepped closer and practically shoved the camera into his face. leaning back, Danny glanced between the camera and the people drawing with his blood.

Suddenly, his arm tingled with ectoplasm, making him panic for a second. he can't heal the wound! not with all the people around him and being recorded! Shit, what had Vlad done last time?? Uh, right! core smothering. He could just smother his core to stop his body from healing. Man, acting like a civilian was a pain in the ass.

Glaring up at the camera now that he wasn't as panicked, Danny watched as the dude stepped back, pulled out a paper, and started reading out loud. "GOTHAM! tonight you shall join us as we summon the most powerful being in the world!"

Did he seriously need the paper just to remember that?

The leader stepped forward when the circle was complete, "Now!" His voice echoed around the silent warehouse, startling the other kidnapped victims. The cameraman turned and focused on him, stepping out of the circle altogether. Danny watched the kidnapped people out of the corner of his eye, wanting to make sure they weren't hurt during this whole fiasco.

"Let us begin!" the leader cheered, suddenly gripping Danny's shoulders tightly. "Join me as we summon our lord and savior! The great tyrant of the dead! The embodiment of war and bloodshed! The one named PARIAH DARK! THE HORRIFIC GHOST KING!!!!"

Immediately, Danny was both completely terrified and amused. He had been worried that they were going to try and summon some great evil demon, not the fucking old tyrant. He could fight Pariah any day of the week.

No, what terrified him was the fact that because Danny won the right to the crown by defeating Pariah the first time, he had no idea what this summoning was going to do. Was it going to work like they wanted and summon Pariah? cool, great even. He can deal with that, might have to reveal his ghost powers if the fight got dirty, but nothing too bad.

or was it going to summon him because he was the king, and if so? how? Would that even work considering he's the sacrifice? would he just disappear and reappear? This could lead to a lot of questions Danny was NOT ready to answer. Gaslighting everyone here into believing he could fight Pariah as a 'meta' human would be easy, convincing everyone that he's not the ghost king or a ghost AFTER getting summoned; not so easy.

The leader released Danny from his grip as he walked over and snatched the tome from one of his followers. Snapping the book open, the man started chanting without warning, pointing at random people to notify them when it was their turn to start.

It was like watching a school play; all the student's doing as they were taught as their teacher directed from the side. Cultist A slammed the bowl of leftover blood on the ground, splattering the black remnants all over Danny and the circle. Which was gross, Danny was going to have to burn this shirt, because there was no way he was going to get this stain out. Cultist B tossed salt at Danny a few minutes later, smacking him in the face with the small white crystals. Shaking his head, Danny glared at him. Cultist B threw the salt again.

The leader's smile grew as he continued chanting.

Seven other cultists joined in the chanting, waving their hands up and down as their voices echoed around them. Danny glanced nervously around the warehouse, hoping he'd spot one of the bats. This was being broadcast, they should be on their way at the very least.

After another minute of looking, Danny glanced back at the other kidnapped victims. Nancy was balling her eyes out, burying herself into her boyfriend's chest. Wyatt was staring at him with wide eyes, clearly unsure about what to do. Probably feeling guilty because they both knew the leader was going to choose him. A few others were looking away, clearly fearing for his life. The rest watched on, trying to show him through their actions that they were there with him till the end. (whether he 'died' or not)

It was weird, but Danny had to give it to them; Gothmites were badass. He doubted anyone in Amity besides his friends would have been brave enough to watch what was happening. Even if they didn't know if he would live or not.

His core crackled, making him choke a little as he finally felt the pull of the summoning. Well, that's just great. Shaking his head, Danny tried to clear his throat. The summoning was making him feel weird and he did not appreciate it.

The chanting got louder as one of the people walked up to him, holding the knife in a white-knuckled grasp. Danny eyed it wearily, glancing between it and the rafters above. Where the hell were the bats when he needed them???

The cultist kneeled before him and raised the blade, slamming it down into his chest right as the leader stopped chanting; Danny gasped, more out of surprise than pain as he stared at the knife. The dude gave him no warning that he was going to stab him. Usually, cultists slit people's throats, right? What the fuck was up with stabbing him???

His blood slowly bubbled up and around the knife, slowly staining his shirt red. Yeah, there was no way in the realms he was going to be able to save this shirt now. Man, he had liked this one too.

He could hear Nancy's sobs turn to wails as the cultist yanked out the knife and handed it to the leader, who Danny just now noticed had joined them in the circle. His blood started gushing down his chest with every beat of his heart, again he held back his core. (what does he do now??? faint? scream? how do normal people react to getting stabbed?????)

"Take this lowly sacrifice as a sign of our eternal loyalty, and grace us with your presence! Your humble servants plead that your godly ears hear our prayers! Join us in this mortal realm and bequeath us your power and name to rectify the sins of our brethren!"

Ok, first of all Danny was no where near lowly you piece of fuck-

Danny's core pulsed, sending out nauseating pain up and down his spine. Gasping, Danny leaned as far forward as he could, trying in vain to grasp at his chest without using his powers. His core crackled, striking a blinding flash through his brain. The echoes of his death crawled up his left arm, waking the old dead nerves into firing signals at his brain.

Danny couldn't help himself, he screamed as the pain grew worse and worse. His thoughts turned hazy, his body cold as his core pulsed again. His heart stuttered and then froze, his core flooding his body with freezing ecto not a moment later. Absently, he could feel the wash of ectoplasm crawl over his body, changing his body minutely. He didn't transform, but he definitely looked more ghostly than human.

All the pain disappeared a moment later, allowing Danny to slump forward, his head hanging low and blocking his face from view. His chest did not rise in ragged breaths, nor did his fingers twitch with life. His mind was still sluggish and clouded with something, making it nearly impossible to think. Squeezing his eyes shut, Danny tried to focus.

"Your Highness?" someone asked, their voice too loud as it rang in Danny's ears. His core pulsed, another flood of ectoplasm flooding his body. His eyes slid open again, allowing him to see the green glow lighting up his chest and lap as he stared down at them.

Slowly, Danny lifted his head, his bright green gaze locking with the man in front of him.

Next

[tojisun]

still thinking about childhood best friend simon and that lake house

thinking about how simon is so forceful at pushing your boyfriend out. he’d wake up early in the morning and shoot you throngs of messages, things like if you wanted to take a morning walk with him, and take the dogs out or something.

and when you roll over, plucking your chiming phone from the nightstand, ignoring your boyfriend’s grumbling, you see simon’s messages and think nothing of them.

(simon would never—you told your man; you told him that simon’s just clingy because it’s been years since the two of you met again, that simon’s a good man.

“please trust me?” you whispered, and he had to hold back his glower because of course he trusts you.

it’s simon he doesn’t trust, but it’s not like he could say anything when your parents adore simon; when your mom pinches simon’s cheek before giving him extra servings, or when your dad claps simon on the back, telling him how he’s grown so tall and how he dearly remembers when you used to tower over simon back in your youths.

simon’s so woven into your family so how could your boyfriend ever say anything against him? he’s fucking royalty at this point—beloved by everyone.

even your nephews stare at simon with starry eyes more than they do their own dad.)

so you agree to every little outing that simon proposes—morning walks, drive to the local shops, going to liquor stores together, completing errands alone for your family.

you tried to include your boyfriend but simon and him never got along, and you just got so tired of of trying. this is your long-awaited vacation, so why the hell are you playing telephone with your two boys?

so you divided your attention then, with how the two of them are so stubborn when it came to you.

but—

simon knows you. he knows how to catch your attention.

so night dates with your boyfriend turned into a hangout with simon inviting himself in. he would always walk with you two to your room, crash in the bean bags and ask what would you all watch tonight. or he would tug you all to the family game room and make up a game that would end in you and him teaming up against your boyfriend. or he would propose a night swim in the shallow ends of the lake, and it’s always his shirt that he’d hand to you when you get chilly.

it’s these little things that add up; little things that you never really questioned because you grew up with simon, you grew up doing all of these with him, but—

simon’s different now. he’s a lot taller, a lot broader. he’s a lot more beautiful than you ever remembered.

and something in your chest unfurls, choking the threads of your rationalization—

oh god.

(simon walked in on your boyfriend packing his bags, his chest heaving and his eyes red with tears. and all simon ever tells him is, “y’need a ride?” because finally.

finally the motherfucker got the hint.)

[pathologicalreid]

burn notice | s.r.

in which your workplace is targeted by a group of extremists, and Spencer tries everything to keep you safe

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: fighting, threats, arson/explosion, politics, mass casualty event, sole survivor, greek mythology my beloved, public transit word count: 2.34k a/n: i genuinely think my laptop is going to start smoking if i leave it on for much longer.

You pull your knees to your chest, sitting on the floor next to Spencer’s desk while he speaks with Hotch about the case. JJ waves at you solemnly before she heads out of the bullpen, leaving you as the last person. Setting your chin on your knee, you close your eyes and wonder how things got so messed up so quickly.

Someone was threatening your work, the threats weren’t directed at you personally, but with the way Spencer was acting, it might as well have been. The BAU had been called in by D.C. Metro yesterday, and that was when Spencer started acting overprotective.

The letters were demanding all of the money from a political action campaign, something you couldn’t give away. The money wasn’t yours to give. “Are you alright?” Spencer asks, having made his way down to his desk.

Accepting his hand up, you sigh, resting your cheek against his chest when he pulls you in for a hug. “Just a long day,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his waist and finally letting yourself relax.

He chuckles lightly at your colossal understatement of the day’s events, gently rubbing your back before he goes to pick his messenger bag up, slinging it over his shoulder before taking your hand, “What do you say we order something out for dinner?”

You hum in response, “I think it’s pretty obvious that neither of us is in the mood to cook.” You don’t even need to bring up the fact that it’s eight p.m., you could be heading home at five and you still wouldn’t have it in you to cook a meal. You slip your hand in his while you’re heading to the elevator, waving briefly at Hotch as he locks up his office.

Spencer lets you sit on the metro, standing until it’s time to switch lines and he finds a seat while you’re headed to Farragut North. You rest your head on his shoulder, wondering if the food you ordered on the phone was going to beat you to the apartment.

You’re half asleep by the time you get to Van Ness, and Spencer practically drags you behind him as you exit the station and walk back to the apartment. As you expect, your food is waiting for you on the welcome mat, complete with the handwritten note from your favorite delivery driver, “God, this smells good.” You say, holding the warm take-out containers in your arms while Spencer opens the front door.

Setting everything on the kitchen counter, you retreat briefly to the bedroom to change your clothes, pulling on an old t-shirt before returning to the kitchen, taking your container, and sitting on the couch. “Are you going to work tomorrow?”

With food in your mouth, you nod at Spencer, watching him sit down on the other end of the couch. Swallowing, you shrug, “It’s election season, Spence. This is one of my busiest times of the year.”

“But there’s a group of people threatening to blow up the building that you work in,” Spencer reminds you, mixing up his food with his fork.

This isn’t the first time you’ve had this conversation today. “At the end of the day, it’s up to my boss to decide whether or not we get to take the day off or if we have to go into the office, and he said that anyone who doesn’t come in tomorrow gets fired.”

Spencer’s gaze narrows, “I quite honestly don’t care. I’d rather we go to having a single income than have you die in a domestic terrorism incident” He points his fork at you, “And for what it’s worth, your boss is an asshole.”

You huff in recognition, now that was something you were well aware of. This job was supposed to be your way in. A stepping stone on your way to being a liaison in the White House, but the world had started to slow down from the moment you entered the world of politics. Every ounce of excitement that you had felt when you first moved to D.C. was fleeting.

Work sapped joy from your life, and everyone around you knew it.

Fiddling with your chopsticks, you dig around in your takeout container for a carrot, “Do you think we could talk about something other than work?”

“I can’t stop thinking about how tonight might be my last night with you,” Spencer says morbidly, aggressively stabbing at his container. It was Spencer’s greatest blessing and his eternal damnation, being able to think so quickly and operate in a way that left his peers miles behind.

He saw the solution so plainly in front of him, standing in his pool of water with a fruit tree creating a foreboding shadow above him, but every time he reached out with the answer, you retreated. “DHS didn’t think it was a credible threat,” you murmur, setting your food down on the coffee table so you can attempt to have a real conversation with him about this.

Spencer huffs in response, the hair blowing strands of his hair around his face, “DHS isn’t emotionally involved in this case.”

You tilt your head to the side, “Do you think maybe you’re too close to this? What did Hotch say?”

“Fuck off,” he snaps. It was an instinctive reaction to your pushing, but that didn’t make the sting any less painful.

Crossing your arms in front of your stomach, you shrink back into your side of the couch, “Is that what you told Hotch, too?” You watch his reaction, the way he presses his lips together in acute shame for what he said to you, but he won’t take it back, and he won’t apologize for it. Not right now, at least.

He’s just afraid, you try to remind yourself. Spencer’s terrified of something happening to you and he has some sort of deep-seated inability to process fear, so when he gets scared, he gets mean. Right now, he was taking his fear out on you, and if something was going to happen to you tomorrow, you didn’t want him to spend his time lashing out.

You turn on the TV, flipping to a program that the both of you like before going back to your dinner, manifesting that the tense silence between the two of you turns peaceful before it’s too late.

“Hey, what are you thinking about?” Nadine asks you, nudging your side gently with her elbow until you snap out of your fugue. “Are you heading home for dinner?”

Checking the time on your watch, you nod absentmindedly, “Probably,” your voice is rough from lack of use, spending so much of your day just staring at election models. You have the privilege of being the only employee who lives close enough to be able to go home for meals—you’d packed a lunch, but you have to stop at home for dinner.

In an unsurprising turn of events, your team was staying late at work tonight. You’d already texted Spencer to let him know, but you doubt that he even looked at your message. “Hey, at least no crazy person came and blew up the office,” she continues, noticing your melancholia.

You laugh without humor, a dry empty sound in response to your co-worker tempting fate. “Yeah, at least there’s that,” you respond, noting the strange air that remains in the suite, people are still thinking about the threat, even if they’re too scared to say it aloud.

Walking back to the office after making a sandwich at home, you pull your phone out of your purse and try to haphazardly type out an on my way text to Nadine, but when you send it, it doesn’t go through. Shaking it off, you drop your phone back in your purse and keep walking, sirens passing on the street as something goes on in the city. You think about texting Spencer again but decide against it—it’s better to give him his space.

A passing pedestrian knocks into you, getting you to lift your head to frown at him, but he just keeps running forward, not even bothering to throw a sorry over his shoulder.

“Is that building on fire?” Someone asks, and your heart sinks into your stomach at the question, picking up your own pace as tufts of smoke billow into the sky, suspiciously close to where your office is.

There’s a mob forming behind the police line, people who were in the middle of their commutes home when they found something to gawk at. Even people who choose to keep walking are rubbernecking, making double steps to look at the building for a split second longer. “Isn’t that the councilman’s office?”

“No,” you breathe, watching the flames as they only grow. The crowd clutches their pearls as people ask about people jumping from the building, your friends who would rather jump and possibly survive than burn to death. People run past you to get closer while you can’t do anything except watch in horror.

It’s not until one of the windows shatters that you move again, the location of the window right next to where you and Nadine had been standing earlier. You push through the crowd, trying to reach the police barricade as people ask Metro PD for answers.

You try to duck under the police tape before someone pushes you back, “No!” You cry, “No, no, no! Please let me through! I work here,” you try to explain through gasping breaths, “This is my job! These are my friends!” You shout over the ruckus, the smell of the fire filling your senses.

“Ma’am, ma’am,” one of the officers talks down to you, “We’re under strict orders from the FBI that no one is allowed to get through.” His voice doesn’t have an ounce of sympathy in it, and it pushes you closer to the ledge.

You point at him accusingly, “Fuck your orders! Let me talk to the FBI!” Desperation oozes from you in every direction as the crowd steps away from the crazy woman shouting about the FBI. “I know them all,” you plead, “just let me talk to them!”

The officer holds his hands out, “Ma’am, I don’t want to have to remove you from the scene.”

But you’ve already moved on from him, noticing a familiar cascade of dark hair on the other side of the barricade, “Oh my god, Emily!” Your voice is comparable to a shriek as you try to get her attention, “Emily, please!”

Relief floods your chest as her head snaps in the direction of your shouting, a confused look quickly morphing into shock as she recognizes you. “Let her through,” She calls to the officers, looking at you as if she’s seen a ghost. “What’s going on?”

You run to her first, adrenaline thrumming through every part of your body as you point to the two officers who made an enemy of you, “Those two won’t fucking listen to me!”

“We thought you were in the building,” Emily says, her tone is eerie, almost haunted.

Gasping for air, you wave your hand around at the building, babbling something about dinner and the walk while she continues to monitor your surroundings.

She places her hands on your shoulders to stop you from bouncing around, “Y/N, Spencer thinks you were inside the building.”

It’s like she’s knocked the hair out of your lungs, you shake your head, “I wasn’t. I was at home. I left for…” your voice trails off at the realization that at this very moment, Spencer thinks you’re dead. At the very least he thinks you’re trapped inside of that building when you very likely could’ve been at the apartment that you share while the fire was set.

“Reid!” Emily calls into her radio, rolling her eyes in frustration, “He took his earbud out.”

You tug at her arm, “Where is he?” Your voice broke, grief flooding your eyes as she communicated with the team.

She nods her head to the left, “He’s on the north side of the building.”

Not even waiting for her to finish her sentence, you took off in a full sprint, ignoring other people looking at you like you’re insane because the only thing you can think of is getting to Spencer. “Spencer!” You shout, your voice ragged from running, throat swelling with emotion as you scream for him.

JJ sees you first, “Reid!”

And you see him. It looks like Derek’s holding him back, stopping him from running into the building when you call out again, “Spence!”

He turns just in time to catch you, nearly toppling onto the ground as you launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him while he holds you so tightly that your feet lift off of the ground.

“Yeah, Emily,” Derek says into his radio, “We’ve got her.”

Your hands tremble with an assortment of emotions as you grip the straps of his Kevlar vest, depending on him to keep you standing, “I’m okay,” you babble, “I wasn’t in there.”

“I’m sorry,” Spencer responds, burying his face in your neck, you hold him impossibly tight as his tears hit your skin, eliciting a sob from the back of your throat.

You gasp, “I know. It’s okay. I’m okay,” you repeat like a mantra, a collection of words that needs to be tattooed on his brain. “We’re okay,” you tell him, smiling faintly as he walks backward to an ambulance, neither of you faltering in your grip of the other.

It seems like every cell that made up his body is shaking as he holds you, “I’m so sorry,” he apologizes again. This time it’s deeper. He’s apologizing for his behavior, sure, but he’s apologizing for this event.

A cry bubbles in your throat. Everything was gone. Your friends were gone. The last two years of your life burnt to ashes.

And when you lose your footing and you otherwise would’ve fallen to the ground, Spencer keeps you up, his grip holding you together—keeping you close.

[lucyrose191]

TAME THE WOLFF| T.WOLFF

Pairing; Angry!Toto Wolff x Calm!Wife!reader

Summary; A few scenarios in which Toto is angry and frustrated and you’re there to calm him down and save his poor team from his wrath

Warnings; angry Toto.

F1 Master List

It was no secret that during a race weekend Toto could get a little….frustrated.

Okay, frustrated was putting it way too lightly, the man got way too passionate about his work and when things didn’t go the way they’re supposed to it was like a volcano was erupting in his mind and he just loses all sense of control leading him to his famous actions of smashing headphones.

The Austrian was already intimidating enough with his tall stature and the confidence he eluded but when he was angry he wasn’t just intimidating, he was scary.

The way his dark eyes seemed to turn almost entirely black and how the veins in his forehead throbbed were signs that had the Mercedes team shifting in their seats and the moment he started running his hands down his face was the moment the higher people in the team would get their phones out and call for help.

That help being you.

It had taken a long time for the team to acknowledge the effect you had on their team principle because he never got angry when you attended races but it was when you arrived to races later in the day that they started to see how things changed.

It was one particular day when Toto had arrived to the track already a bit frustrated, whether that was because of your absence or not they didn’t know but the pile up of disastrous events had lead to the team principle throwing things and shouting at the top of his lungs.

Then you arrived.

You certainly hadn’t expected to walk into the garage and be greeted by your husband in a fit of rage and the entire team stood frozen like petrified animals but the sight of fear on their faces had upset you greatly, especially knowing that it was because of Toto’s, quite frankly unnecessary, tantrum.

You walked over to your husband, who hadn’t even noticed you amidst his anger, and gently placed your hand on his arm.

Any member of the team would’ve called you crazy in that moment, walking over to the beast of a man with no fear on your face when he could have easily turned around and launched you across the room without even thinking.

He had been ready to throw a fist at the person who had the gall to touch him before he saw that it was you, his beloved wife looking at him with nothing but love in your eyes even as he was acting like a brute.

The team had never seen him change personalities so quickly in that moment.

You didn’t say anything to him, instead you placed your other hand on his back and guided him away from everyone, you wouldn’t have been able to move him by yourself but he allowed you to guide him away with absolutely no argument.

You opened the door of his makeshift office, saying nothing as he strode straight past you without a glance, steam practically spilling from his ears, you could feel the anger radiating off of him.

Apart from his unsettled shuffling the room was filled with an intense silence as you shut the door, simply watching as his chest rose and fell harshly, you could see that he was trying to calm himself down now that he was in your presence but he was struggling to do so and that was only frustrating him further.

"Sit down," you gently instructed him, nodding towards the small sofa pushed up against the wall of the small room.

He wanted to argue but he stopped himself and did as he was told, sitting down on the sofa he buried his face into his hands.

You walked over to him and wrapped your arms around the back of his head, allowing him to lean into your stomach, you ran your hands through his hair.

"I understand you’re stressed and that things aren’t going the way you want them too but the way you’re shouting is unfair to the team, they are not your verbal punching bag but you’re treating them as they are."

Toto closed his eyes, releasing a heavy sigh, he wrapped his arms around your body to bring you closer.

He knew you were right, you always were and that’s what he loved about you, how you were always there to talk some sense into him.

He didn’t say anything though, he just held you firmly but gently and used your presence to calm him down.

There were many things he needed to be doing right now but he couldn’t find himself to care, right now the most important thing was calming down and spending time with you, no matter how long that took.

When the Mercedes team heard the door to their boss’ office unlock and saw the man himself walk out completely calm with you following shortly after, they were beyond amazed.

It was that day that the members of the team who had your number put you on speed dial in preparation for when an incident like this happened again, which it no doubt would.

"It seems that Toto Wolff is beginning to get a little bit frustrated down in the Mercedes garage."

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the unnecessary commentary that wasn’t helping in the slightest.

Your husband was getting agitated and the nearby team members were nervously glancing in his direction as though they were mentally preparing themselves for him to blow his top.

Instead of waiting for Toto to lose it, you stood behind him and loosely wrapped your arms around him, thumbing at the collar of his shirt.

Everyone around could see the tension immediately release from his body just from your comforting touch.

Toto grabbed one of your hands with his own, stroking his thumb back and forth across your skin, using the motion as a way to ground himself.

The whole garage went silent at the sight of both of their cars spinning off the track in turn 1. What once was going to be a promising race from starting second and third has turned into a disaster in such a short amount of time.

Everyone was utterly speechless as the entire team just sat there staring at their monitors in shock.

But then they actually acknowledged that it was silent and all simultaneously turned towards their boss with confused stares only to see you blocking him from the cameras that were pointing into the garage, leaning down and whispering, what they could only guess were calming, words to him.

Whilst the cameras couldn’t see his face, the team could and they could tell he was, rightfully so, furious as the situation, he wasn’t shouting or throwing things.

He definitely wanted to but he wasn’t.

You weren’t really in the mood to be in the garage today surrounded by so much noise to the point you could barely hear yourself think and the smell of fuel so strong it made you nauseous but you still wanted to support your husband as you weren’t able to accompany him everywhere he went so you settled in his makeshift office on what was possibly the worlds smallest sofa with your laptop sitting in your lap and your headphones placed over your ears to block out the noise from the team outside and the cars on the track.

It had been hours and you were content in the alone time you were getting, it was just you and your music playing in your ears that you didn’t notice the multiple calls you were receiving.

Unbeknownst to you, outside of his office, your husband was kicking off and nothing anyone did or said could calm him down.

The team had never witnessed Toto as angry as he was right now, the veins in his forehead more prominent than ever and whilst most didn’t understand the German words coming out of his mouth, they knew he couldn’t be saying anything nice.

Bono was trying to get a hold of you for possibly the twentieth time and he was still having no luck, he felt the pressure of the teams eyes on him, begging for the news that you’d be coming knowing that he was only one of a few that had your number and the means to find you right now but he wasn’t getting anywhere.

Poor Lewis and George were getting the brunt of the Austrian’s anger and even though they hadn’t a clue of what he was saying, they were starting to question the security of their jobs.

Luckily, a mechanic who had just entered the garage and was completely taken aback by the scene in front of him, awkwardly side shuffled to Bono and questioned what was going on. "He’s acting crazy! I can’t get a hold of Y/N."

"Didn’t she go straight into his office when they arrived earlier?" The mechanic asked.

Bono looked at him in shock and relief before jumping to his feet and wasting no time as he jogged in the direction of Toto’s office.

It was rude but he didn’t bother knocking, he almost cried when he saw you sitting there.

You got the fright of your life as the door burst open but the sight of a frantic Bono caused you to remove your headphones and look at him in confusion.

"Oh thank god you’re here! Toto’s gone mental!"

You released a sigh at his words and pushed your laptop to the side and got up from the sofa. "What for now?"

"I honestly have no idea but if he doesn’t calm down soon then Lewis and George might just start crying and Toto looks like he’s about to burst a blood vessel."

The moment you stepped out into the short, narrow corridor you heard your husbands angry German shouting. "Mein Gott," you muttered to yourself.

Entering the main part of the garage you weren’t greeted by a pretty sight at all, Bono wasn’t overreacting in the way he described Toto, Lewis and George and let’s not forget about the rest of the team.

You headed straight for your husband, not acknowledging the looks of relief you saw build on everyone’s faces, especially the two drivers’.

You didn’t even need to say anything to Toto, you just stood in front of him and looked up at him with a stern gaze that soon got him to shut up but his eyes were still blazing with fury as he looked down at you, you knew his anger wasn’t aimed at you, he was just still pent up with emotions.

You nodded in the direction of his office and simply walked away, expecting him to follow after you if he knew what was good for him.

He followed you.

The moment you heard him close the door you turned to him. "This needs to stop."

He looked at you furiously, "how am I supposed to stop when I have two drivers that can’t even get through a lap without crashing into each other!"

"Don’t you dare talk to me like that, Torger!" Your voice cut through the air as you glared at him which soon caused his face to shift from angry to wounded as you scolded him.

"How hard is it for you to simply sit them down and give them a stern talking to, there’s no need for the way you completely blow your top, you’re acting like a child throwing a tantrum."

He was still beyond angry, you could see it in his eyes and the way he shifted on his feet and he was about to retort but you cut him off. "I don’t want to hear you right now, I want you to sit down in silence and calm down before a single word comes out of your mouth."

He pursed his lips, not at all happy but he did as he was told and sat down in the chair behind the small desk, you didn’t spare him a glance as you sat yourself back where you were before Bono came searching for you, pulling your laptop back onto your lap to finish what you had been doing.

It was a good 15/20 minutes later when you heard him get up from his seat and make his way over to you. He sat beside you and rested his head on your shoulder causing you to roll your eyes but a smile grew on your face at his actions, you were glad he couldn’t see it though.

You continued to carry on with what you were doing, letting him decide how he wanted your conversation to go and so it remained silent for a few more minutes with you and Toto simply sat there, him resting against you simply soaking up the comfort of your presence.

He shifted and pressed a kiss to your temple before returning back to his position. "Are you mad at me?" He asked when you remained silent.

You closed your laptop and put it away before shifting the both of you so you were up straight and looking at each other. "No," you told him honestly, "I just wish you wouldn’t let your frustrations get the best of you all the time."

He looked down at your words before looking back into your eyes with a sincere look, "I’m sorry."

"It’s okay," you smiled at him, reaching out a hand to brush his hair back. "We just need to find a way for you to keep yourself together."

"You’re the way," he replied immediately which stunned you and he was okay with that. He pulled you into his arms and you both just sat there.

You could be quite the opposite at times but you were content with that because you would always be there to ground him whenever his emotions got out of control.

[bunny-jpeg]

daughter dearest

simon 'ghost' riley

cw: smut/pwp, implied age gap, price's daughter!reader, daddy kink & daddy issues, simon still works under price, doggy style, hair pulling, a tiny bit of choking, manhandling

bunny says: good girls end up in heaven, bad girls end up with simon

he was so handsome in that sleek black car of his. with the tinted windows, you could see that he was in the driver's side as there was a bit of cigarette smoke coming out from the open window.

you were quick to get out of the house that you lived with your father. you had a night bag over your shoulder. in a cute little skirt and an even cuter top. you were the beloved daughter of captain john price.

but tonight, you were simon's good girl.

you and simon started up a "relationship" around the christmas party last year. it was harmless flirting. he was stubborn and you got right under his skin. of course this ended with him tossing you into the back of a jeep on base and fucking you until you couldn't even form your own name.

since then you've been simon's pretty little thing with an age gap to raise an eyebrow out.

the drive to his flat wasn't long, but the entire time under the cover of night, he had his large hand on your thigh. he palmed at the skin and muscle. his fingers dug into them, which made you whimper from his strength.

scary.

but simon would never hurt you. even as he kept a protective hand on your lower back. his lips were on your neck with you pinned against the wall of the elevator. only to pull away when the doors opened to let in more people.

there was little formalities when you both got through the front door of the flat. even as you tried to undo the laces of your shoes, simon was over you with his large hands on your hips and his cock up against your ass.

"you dog." you whined as you managed to get them off.

when you were standing back upright, you felt the strength of your boyfriend's chest against your back. then soon his strong hand was loosely around your throat.

you whimpered.

"whatcha call me, princess?"

you whimpered, 'sorry, daddy." you didn't want to hear about the long stretched of absences your father did when you were going up made you seek out older men to pleasure you. you didn't care to know!

he held your throat for a moment then leaned in to kiss your jaw, "good girl. i'd hate to take you through training again."

your daddy issues to culminate into a bratty attitude, especially around base. simon had to 'train' you, which meant everything from spanking to time outs. it meant having cum covered panties and giving his head in public bathrooms. you'd behave, simon hated brats.

he always felt the need to break 'em.

you were a good girl for him, most of the time. so when he picked you up like you weighed as much as a bag of potatoes and tossed you on the bed in the bedroom.

you bounced on the bed before simon was on you, he pulled at the clothes on your body. you managed to get your phone out of your pocket before he started to almost rip your clothes off your body! you felt your cheeks heat up from the feeling. you were stripped bear and grabbed by the hair.

he gave it a good yank and you felt wetness between your legs. you felt like such a whore, but part of you loved when being strong men used you to their pleasing.

"your daddy isn't going to like when i bring you home and ya got cum runnin' down your leg. when ya walk a lil weird and can't sit down. make sure your old man knows what i've been fuckin' his sweet little princess."

you whimpered as you ended up on your hands and knees with your ass in the air. your core throbbed as he got his cock out his thick black jeans. it was a hefty cock. thick all over with breeding balls.

his cock was shoved without much prep into your slick hole. you jumped but his larger body kept you pinned to the bed. his cock felt like a heavy weight between your legs.

your buried your head in the pillows and arched your back. you entire body felt amazing from the feeling of his thrusts. your cunt ached with want for your boyfriend.

"that's my good girl. see, maybe m captain is right. maybe he does have the most perfect daughter in the world." simon's words were harsh but they made you warm all over.

"daddy please." you moaned as you felt him slap you across the ass. your body felt hot all over as he continued to fuck you. this wasn't sex, this was fucking. he was pushing all of his length, stuffing you full of him.

so you'd know when you gave your old man a hug, that a piece of simon was still in you.

you'd be a riley soon enough.

"please, ah! please!" you whined.

"i got ya, princess." his pace was brutal, it almost brought tears to your eyes. it made your stomach twist and your cunt soaked.

you soon could hear your phone ringing on the nightstand, but simon's cock had made it impossible for you to find the strength to grab it.

"who's that, love?" simon asked in a gruff voice, "is that your old man callin'? better pick up." he held you by the waist and leaned over you to grab it. it was still ringing.

you took it with weak hands and answered it, "hi, daddy." you tried to keep your voice steady but the way your core was throbbing from simon's heavy thrusts.

"where are ya?" your old man asked.

"oh! remember, i told you i was staying with a friend tonight." you tried not to moan or seem like something was off. your father was painfully smart, it was hard to get anything past him.

"right, right. that girl you go to school with? tiffany? rachel?"

your voice was a little tight when you replied, "andrea." you felt simon pull at your hair which almost made you cry out, but you just had to keep it together for a little while longer.

"right, right. well, ya got a ride home to come home?"

you swallowed and bent to simon's will, "yes, daddy. i'll be home around 2!" you squeezed your eyes shut

there was a pause, "are you alright, sweetheart? sound a little sick."

you grit your teeth for a moment, could the old man just stop yapping? you replied, "no, daddy. i think i'm just really tired. we- we went for a hike earlier, just worn out!"

simon gave a silent chuckle as he continued to thrust, worn out was right. he wanted to slap your ass, but you were squirming enough as it was.

"alright, i'll see ya tomorrow. remember to come home early enough so we can have dinner together. love ya."

'love you too, daddy." you voice cracked a little as you felt yourself on the edge of your orgasm. you hung up the phone and you looked over your shoulder, but simon pushed your head back into the pillows to fuck you into the mattress.

"that's a good girl." simon growled, "i know he's your father, but i'm your daddy." he bruised your hips with his feverish pace.

you arched your back and clutched onto the covers tightly. your head was pounding as you felt the pulse of warmth through your body. your mind was a mantra of his name. "fuck, daddy!"

simon chuckled and slammed his hand down on your ass, "that's what i like to see, princess. i love how you feel against me. tight cunt, thick thighs, chubby hips, my fuckin' dream."

you whimpered as you tensed up. you climaxed and as you reached your peak. everything else went dark in your head before you ended up face first in his soft bed. the smell of your lover was polluting your head as he had you bouncing on his cock.

"now that's a good girl." simon purred, "now let's give this cunt what she be needin'." with a few more jolts of his hips, he finished inside of you. his cum spat into the back of your womb with purpose.

he wanted to see it leak out all over your pretty pink panties come morning. but that might take a few more rounds.

"look alive, princess." he said as he tapped your face a little harder than you liked, "not done with ya, yet."

but you had all night.

-

the next morning, you came home and greeted your father with a kiss on the cheek and a cheery smile. when you went upstairs, price though he caught the glimpse of a bruise on the back of your thigh, right where your skirt ended.

but he looked away rather quickly and crossed his arms. he said, "glad ya had fun, sweetheart!" he was a supportive father, he loved you! you were his beautiful daughter.

little did he know that under your skirt was two large purple hand prints from his trusted lieutenant. <3

[revasserium]

beloved - Tsukishima and being soft for you and only you

prompt list reqs are: temporarily closed

beloved

tsukishima; 1,787 words; fluff, established relationship, no "y/n", soft!tsukki, kissing and banter, tsukki being... tsukki

summary: 5 times tsukki is soft just for you and 1 time when he doesn't care that everyone else can see

a/n: this is an ancient req but... welp, here we are! u__u

01.

in the middle of the night, his eyes still marred by sleep and the lack of glasses, when the world is a watercolor haze of shapes and softness — he feels you tug away from where you’d been curled up against his chest, shifting under the blankets. he groans and tries to pull you back.

“kei… what’re you doing?”

“don’t go… i was warm.”

there’s a whine in his voice you’re certain he’s never let anyone else hear before, no one other than you and the silent, watchful moon, swinging low in the mid-autumn night.

“i’ll be right back — i need to pee!”

“well pee quick,” he says, voice gravely from sleep as he shoves his face back into his pillows and tries not to mourn the you-shaped emptiness in the bed next to him. he wonders briefly how he’d lived so many years, slept so many nights just by himself in this bed, his body and no one else’s to keep him warm.

he counts backwards from twenty, knowing that by the time he gets to about seven or six, you’ll be crawling back under the blankets, nuzzling into his side. he gets to eight, seven, six —

“there, see?” you shimmy back into his arms and he sighs a sigh that could be misconstrued as exasperated. but you know him well enough (and he knows you do) to know it’s nothing short of absolute contentment.

“mm. sleep,” is his only mumbled reply as he once again buries his face into the soft bend of your neck and breathes.

02.

out shopping, even though he’d made such a fuss about not wanting to go, about how it’s nothing more than a pointless endeavor and only contributing to the economic monster that is capitalism — but the way you press a sundress to your front in front of a full length mirror, the light in your eyes, the bright smile on your lips — it stirs something inside him. it inspires quiet; it inspires… admiration.

you spin around, laughing, clearly delighted to have caught him staring.

“what do you think? does it look good?”

tsukishima purses his lips, schooling his expression back into a frown as he scoffs and casts his eyes up towards the ceiling.

“’s all the same to me.”

“aw… c’mon, you don’t mean that,” you say, twisting back around to tug at the dress, contemplating if it’s worth trying on.

“sure it is. i mean — i’d like you in whatever, so.”

and silently, he thinks that the way you blush at his words is worth the trip… and all the bags he has to carry along the way.

03.

over strawberry shortcake, with two steaming caramel lattes — you humming happily to yourself as you snap one picture after another of the delicious-looking assortment.

“camera eats first!” you declare, snapping your phone shut and reaching out to pick up a fork. you pause over the petal-pink of the shortcake, decorated with three glistening strawberries, the soft white cream light as clouds.

you bite your lips, “ah… it looks almost too good to eat!”

at this, tsukishima sighs, reaching out to stab straight through a strawberry, despite your squeak of indignation and alarm. he wordlessly presses the strawberry to your lips, smirking to himself as he watches the buttercream smear across your mouth before you have the sense to open it and take a bite.

“mm! it’s good!”

“hn. i’d hope so — it was 2,000 yen.”

tsukishima scopes another bite for himself before pausing, his eyes caught on the languid sweep of your tongue across your lips as you try to catch the remaining cream. and, thoughtlessly, almost as if driven by nothing more than instinct and that strange, animal magnetism, he leans forward to swipe a thumb across your lips, pressing the excess into your mouth.

slowly, you close your mouth around his thumb, and he feels the slight pressure of your tongue against his skin. he swallows; you suck, letting his thumb go with a slip pop that leaves tension swelling in his chest like an overfilled balloon.

later, caught just outside the cafe, with his fingers curling into your hair, tilting your head up to meet his — tsukishima thinks that there are some things, perhaps like the strawberry shortcake, too lovely to devour. and then — there are some things, perhaps like your lips, entirely too lovely not to.

04.

after practice, when the moon hangs heavy in the mid-summer sky and the cicadas are singing loud enough to shake loose the stars — tsukishima leans back against your legs, his head falling into your lap as you reach down to slip off his glasses.

“so… how was the training camp?” you ask, tracing your index finger along the high bridge of his nose.

“tiring. the little orange dolt thought it’d be a good idea to break in —”

“break… in?”

“yeah, he just showed up and — i dunno — prayed that no one would notice that he wasn’t invited. idiot.”

your laughter is summer-sweet and full-bellied, and it has you tipping back on your couch with your fingers still tangled in tsukishima’s slightly shower-damp hair.

“it’s — it’s not funny!” tsukishima twists around, frowning hard enough for you to burst into another fit of giggles, reaching forward to run your thumbs along the ridges between his furrowed eyebrows.

“i mean… i think it’s pretty hilarious. that takes balls, doesn’t it?”

tsukishima huffs, swiveling back around, shoulders hunched as he grabs for the remote and clicks on the tv, switching through channels at light-speed. his glasses lay forgotten on the sofa next to you.

“or he’s just too stupid to think about the consequences.”

you reach forward with an indulgent smile, looping your arms around his wide shoulders.

“oh, c’mon… cut him some slack. not everyone can be as tall, handsome, and talented as you are, right?” you say, nuzzling into his cheek even as he swats half-heartedly at you.

“quit it.”

you giggle, hugging him all the tighter until he spins around, pinning your wrists above your head with a speed not usually associated with someone of his height. he hovers over you, his head cocked to one side.

“oh yeah? and what’re you gonna do for your tall, handsome, talented boyfriend to make him feel better after such a stressful day at camp, hm?”

you hiccup, lashes fluttering as he bears down over you.

“i — ts-tsukki —!”

“hn. wrong answer — two more chances.”

you press your lips and glare at him with what you hope is a reproachful air. tsukishima only smirks, shaking his head even as he bends down to press into your space, your chests pressed, his body covering yours and then some. his lips brush the lobe of your ear and he revels in the way you shiver.

“fine line between stupidity and courage, i’d say… don’t you agree?”

05.

before the game with shiratorizawa, with his brand new glasses, and his head bowed low.

“don’t be scared,” you say, reaching down to link his fingers with yours. they’re so long, so strong. the palms peppered with calluses.

tsukishima scoffs, “i’m not scared.”

you smile, rocking up onto your very tip toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. luckily, tucked behind a large column, around the corner to a deserted corridor, no one is there to see.

“you’re not a very good liar,” you say, falling back onto your heels, peering up at him as he stares down at you with slightly narrowed eyes. then, he bends forward to trap you against the column, his breath hot along your lips.

“and you’re gonna make me late for warmups.”

he pulls back at the last second, leaving you breathless. but the smile that dangles from his lips is less sanctimonious than usual. he reaches up and flicks at your forehead when you make no move to follow him.

“i’m not scared, i’m nervous. but… i guess seeing you in the stands would make that a bit better.”

you bite down on your bottom lip, linking your hands behind your back.

“well then, what are we waiting for?”

06.

after the shiratorizawa match, when everyone is still running high on adrenaline, puffy-eyed with happiness, you bound down to meet him, skidding to a halt just outside the giant gymnasium doors. there are bandages on his fingers and sweat dripping down the tip of his nose.

his cheeks are pink with exhaustion, but his eyes are clear and bright and wanting.

“guess you didn’t have any reason to be nervous after all,” you say, trotting up to meet him as the rest of the team parts around the pair of you like water around a river rock. yamaguchi glances over his shoulder even as he herds hinata and kageyama away, the pair bickering over this or that.

tsukishima crinkles his nose, but his eyes narrow at the sight of the redness beneath your eyes. he reaches up his uninjured hand to trace along the dried tear-tracks along your cheeks.

“what’re you crying for?”

you sniffle, shooting him a glare.

“just because you weren’t scared doesn’t mean i wasn’t either — but you won — so that’s all that —”

he quiets you down with a kiss, standing there, in the open gymnasium hallways, the chattering of hundreds of students ebbing around you both. distantly, you can swear you hear tanaka whoop, only to be cut short by what sounds like sugawara smacking him painfully upside the head.

tsukishima frowns as he pulls back, “y’know… i’d prefer if your mind wasn’t on other things when i kissed you.”

“wh-what — i wasn’t —”

his lips thin into his trademark smirk as he tugs your chin towards him with two fingers, his hold more gentle than it looks.

“hm… seems like you’re not a very good liar either but… guess i don’t really mind that much.”

your retort dies on your lips as he leans down again, and this time, you don’t think about how the pair of you are still standing in the middle of a very visible hallway, how people are probably starting to stop and stare.

this time, you kiss him back like nothing else matters in the world except for his lips and how perfectly soft they are on yours.

[baambied]

୨୧ 𝖳𝖶𝖮'𝖲 𝖡𝖤𝖳𝖳𝖤𝖱 𝖳𝖧𝖠𝖭 𝖮𝖭𝖤

cw. nsfw threesome cursing. strap(reader!rec) clit play abby cums untouched masterbation(abby) abby's lowk a perv reader described to have kinky curly hair

m.list

dom!ellie × sub!reader × inexperienced!abby

ellie wasn't a stupid girl, very smart, very observant, especially when it came to things she liked..so how could she not notice how her best friend abby acted around her beloved girlfriend anytime she'd bring her over their apartment, the stuttering, the red rosy cheeks on abbys freckled face...of course ellie noticed...anyone with a brain would.

but it did confuse ellie, last time she checked, abby was straight..she was literally in a two year relationship with some guy named owen (who was an absolute dick and abby broke up with months ago but still), and it seemed like abby liked him...atleast from ellie point of view...and abby never seemed to have any attraction towards any women.

now what ellie wasn't aware of is how abby was only with owen just so she could get rid of those stupid butterflies that appeared in her stomach when she was around a pretty girl...what ellie didn't know is that anytime ellie would come to the gym with her on their days off abby's eyes couldn't leave ellie form sometimes resulting is abby's underwear getting a little to sticky though she'd never admit that to anyone.

little did ellie know owen couldn't get abby off for shit..she'd have to watch some type of lesbian porn after owen left the apartment just to feel relieved and to stop yearning sensation between her thighs.

and what ellie didn't know is that...abby REALLY wanted to fuck her girlfriend...you..

she remembers the first time she saw- well heard you with ellie at their apartment...not a moment she particularly proud of...

abby walked through the door stumbling over pairs of shoes that weren't hers as she had just got back from work, a scowl on her face as she muttered curses at her ungrateful coworkers..it wasn't a good day all she wanted to do was get her sweaty clothes off and take a warm shower than sleep her ass off.

she stopped for a moment, putting her bag down, her eyes examining the shoes on the entrance floor... Mary Jane's? when the fuck did ellie wear Mary Jane's???

she walked deeper into the apartment, frown evident on her tired face did ellie have someone over?? this thought slightly annoyed abby...ellie could have gave her a heads up.

as abby turned the corner going into the hall where her and ellie's bedroms sat, that's when she heard it.

gasping? no

loud...breathing? yes but no

this lead to abby standing in front of ellie's door, her eyes wide, cheeks a bright red and mouth slightly agaped as her ears took in the live sound of basically porn behind it, she has only heard a girl moan through her phone..not in real life..

she leaned closer, wanting to get a better listen

and oh boy, did she think whoever was moaning- having the time of their life behind this door sounded so fucking pretty...

next thing she knew, she was laying on her bed, faced down on the side of it, hips frantically moving against the corner on the bed as if she was a dog in heat, her teeth gritting as she tried her best to be quiet, low whines escaping once in awhile when she got to sensitive.. hands fisting up her white sheets eagerly..drool on the side of her cheek as her hips buckled faster, the frabic of her underwear along with the bed sheets rubbing against her wet, sticky pulsing pussy kept on by punishment,she could feel herself clenching around nothing as she went faster...she knew what she was doing was weird....probably even perverted...i mean who the fucks gets off to their best friend fucking some girl?

well, abby did - does...

this week long never ending cycle continued, abby coming home from work, stressed out...pent up...and to hear the beautiful breathy noises that escaped ellie's room seemed to make it worse for her but somehow some fucking way she'd always ended up in her bed with a hand down her pants.

she had meant you face to face one day which had only fueled her hunger for you more.

abby was sitting on the couch, leaning in it lazingly while typing in a laptop with a small frown on her face, all this work for one fucking project? not only was her job kicking her ass but her college work was too, and suddenly she heard pattering of bare feet coming from the hallway..the scowl on her face deepend at the thought of ellie coming in the living room to bother her with nonsense.

"ellie, if you're gonna show me another one of those weird colorful worms you drew that you claim looks like jesse, I'm really not in the mood for it" abby's almost annoyed but tired voice called out, slightly rolling her eyes in the process.

"uh..no..just left my waterbottle.."

abby face frowned deeper at the unfamiliar voice, she snapped her head around and looked to the hallway..her eyes widened and mouth slowly open.

when did ellie have a girl over- were you here the entire time?!?

what the fuck?

abby's eyes looked around your figure, your hair nicely styled as if it hadn't been touched since you did it, you wore what it looked like one of ellie's oversized- wait ...no...abby's hoodie that ellie basically stole from her on...you...abby's cheeks flushed at that little detail and her eyes finally land at your legs...bare...the hoodie was big enough to fit you like a dress..

"uhhhhhhhh ah uhhh" abby's awkwardly- stupidly voice came out in response

you gave her a sweet smile and walked over to the couch she was sitting at, abby's eyes widened face pink as she looked at you... her back, suddenly straightening and her mouth open, ready to stutter out a question, but all you reach at is the counter next to the couch , grabbing a light pink water bottle.

"sorry uhh abby is it? ellie told me about you...." you state all smiley as you held your pink water bottle, fingers moving over the metal as you observed abby who looked like the most awkward person ever "well...uh goodnight.." you finished yourself sounding a little awkward as abby hadn't said anything in response, who stepped away and swiftly turned around to the hallway, making your way to ellie's room once more.

abby could hear the door close, followed by the sound of ellie's faint voice asking, "Why'd you take s' long'

abby gulped hardly as her eyes stared glued at the spot you once stood, you were so.....cute...not only did abby find your moans absolutely beautiful to the point she could get off on them alone...she found you beautiful...and wanted nothing more than to get you off.

and now here abby stands once again...infront of ellie's closed door, inside her mouth gently biting off her cheek flesh.. face flushed and painted a dusty pink as her ears ate up the lude sounds that came from behind the door.

all she wanted to do was ask ellie if she was hungry - it was finally friday and abby had planned to order chinese and in her mind she recalls ellie munching on a bag of lays chips eailer complaining about no more chicken in the freezer to make for dinner eailer in the day..now it was about 9pm.

abby felt waves of different emotions taking over her body, embarrassment, nervousness....even slightly excited...but also guilt since she left the food place worker on her phone in the living room- wasn't her fault she planned to quickly ask ellie what she wanted and get back to them to order it...but now abby stood still ..almost frozen...

a shaky breath left her throat as her muscular arm raised up before fastly knocking on the door

"h-hey...ellie do you want....chinese...food" abby's voice increasingly getting lower with each word that escaped her throat...the sounds didn't stop if anything they got louder..for a second abby wondered if the phone operator could also hear from the living room table..abby gulped slowly...she could feel her knees buckling as she raised her voice again "ellie the chinese food is- i meant do you want - fuck!"

now abby was just annoyed, not because of how pent up she was beginning to feel from the sounds escaping from behind the door but also because she was fucking hungry, and she was being kind enough to pay for ellie's meal- who couldn't stop for a second to open the door.

really, how horny could she be? (as if she's one to judge)

without thinking abby's rough hand gripped the door knob and she threw it open, the sounds becoming more clear to her ears in an instant

"ellie! i- ..." abby's words were quickly stopped once she caught the sight infront of her she tried to look away but...god...

ellie and you hadn't seemed to notice abby's figure by the now opened door...you two were pre-occupied...there on ellie's bed with twisted up savage starlight blankets laid you, your face buried head first in a pillow as you hips was perched up in the air, abby could notice the sweat on your skin and your slightly shaky body...behind you ellie's hips snapping rapidly and roughly, her tattooed hand slithered between your thighs.

abby's nostrils now filled with the smell of sex and sweat..she felt like her throat would close up at any moment from the sight infront of her..her knees buckling the tingling feeling in her stomach now landing between her thighs.

abby - to caught up in her own thoughts didn't realize ellie's mouth moving..seemingly saying something to you, her own ears blocking out any sound from the room.

"abby...abby - please- abby!"

slowly as if abby's consciousness came back she heard her name...not someone calling out to her......but someone..saying her name continously almost to themselves..like a prayer...and it just so happen...to be the beautiful moans abby was obsessed with.

wide eyes and blazing cheeks, abby felt like she needed to pass out, lightheaded

why were you moaning her name?

ellie's green eyes stared at abby's figure intently her hip movements slowing down, she observed abby's shocked face with a small smirk on her face..slightly out of breath ellie leaned down to you...fingers brushing your hair out the way to catch your ear.

"look at her, you got her all shy huh?" ellie whispered into your ear but loud enough for abby to hear..you let out a soft moan as your face leaned deeper into ellie's blankets.

your body suddenly flinching as you let out a yelp when you felt ellie's palm roughly meet your ass "turn your fucking head and look at her" ellie roughly states..her words coming out as a demand you couldn't ignore..slowly you turned your head..and abby's eyes meant your face...your worn out face

god you looked a mess

a beautiful mess

your pretty kinky curls all in your face, spit coating your mouth and cheek,pretty pink swollen lips.. rough breathes, escaping your throat as your teary eyes meant her's.

abby's knees buckled at the sight of your face, the pulsating between her legs growing stronger...hunger for food disappearing and replaced with a hunger for something else.

"fucking slut ..right?" ellie's voice snaps abby's gaze towards her...abby taking in ellie's naked figure, her chest her muscular arms on your waist...toned stomach...waist...holy shit..

"huh-" abby choked out

"she has her girlfriend's cock inside her, yet she's moaning out someone else's name.." you moan out loudly at ellie's words, your own hips moving earning another slap on your ass "don't fucking move"

ellie's eyes goes to abby once more who still stared at her...well..stared at her lower region instead.

"just gonna stand there abs..? i know how much you spent your time with your hands down your pants thinking about fucking my own girlfriend" abby's eyes went wide as i sudden panic waved into her, her stuttering words coming out in "i-i dont- i" she knew ellie was right..so embarrassingly right...

"sit on the bed, abby." ellie interrupted the stuttering girl, abby could tell ellie's sentence was a demand..which caused her to breathe deeply, slowly stepping near the bed, hands sweaty and shaky at her sides.

abby didn't know how or why this happened, but what she certainly knew was that the food operator was definitely not on her phone anymore.

abby sat at the edge of the bed, she could feel her hips softly moving in an attempt to gain some sort of friction, and she could feel how shaky her legs had become...it had been probably 13 minutes...you were in a different position now...on top of ellie riding her as if she would disappear any second but yet...the words that came out your mouth had abby's named mixed into them...abby considered this as some sort of punishment for her perverted behavior for the last 2 weeks...how she had to just sit here and watch, abby swore if she laid a finger on her cunt she'd cum right on the spot.

she could feel ellie's eyes on her...ellie who leaned against the bed frame, chest breathing rapidly up and down at your movements on top of her but yet she kept her composer...or atleast tried to..

...her freckled face pink as her half lidded eyes stated at abby...she could tell how this affected abby.....her body language...she can even see abby's hips move against the bed...she looked like a sad puppy who wanted nothing more than to be touched which ellie wasn't giving her...or wasn't allowing to give her either.

and in all honesty, you did feel like a slut....you remembered when you first saw abby the time you left your waterbottle in the living room...your eyes drifting around...her buff arms...thick thighs..you thought she was pretty...and you told ellie that obviously..

and those little words you muttered about her bestfriend somehow led to this..you desperately riding your girlfriends strap while abby watched from behind.

"wanna touch her?" ellie's breathy voice called out to abby who almost looked liked she was entranced by your movements, she almost couldn't register what ellie said to her..her eyes blinking slowly as she looked to ellie, desperation in her eyes just like the desperation was fluid in your body language.

"touch her..she wants it.." ellie's voice mumbles as she looked up at you on top of her, one of her hands running up your sweaty chest gripping your breast as her thumb rubbed against you nipple causing your body to shudder "e-els - plea-"

"no baby..not my name...beg to her....not me"

you hummed as your hips buckled, you needed to be fucked...you just couldn't do it yourself..ellie knew this.

"el- abby..please i- i need it.." your words caused abby's slick cunt to clench around nothing, a soft moan even leaving her throat..almost whining...abby has never felt this turned on before and it was so fucking exhilarating.

slowly abby made her way closer, knees dipping on the bed...her eyes staring at your back as it the sight of it came closer with each movement.

abby sat on her knees in front of your back...her shaky hands - fingers slowly moving to your hips..when you felt her touch you immediately leaned back into her, your head on her shoulder..abby softly gasped as her hands froze...your head turned to her ear...she could hear the shaky breaths escaping your mouth

"ab - abby please.."

"fuck.." abby nervously breathed out, her underwear soaked and sticky as she tried to avoid the feeling.

"stop being a pussy and rub her clit - she's been a good girl" ellie's hand caressed your cheek, going to your lips, her green eyes glancing between you and abby "she deserves to cum.."

abby tried to shake her nerves as her hand from your hip slowly began to reach in between your thighs, she could feel your body tremble..were you nervous too?

lost in thought she missed how ellie buckled her hips up causing a loud moan to release from your throat...for a second abby wished she was the one with the strap to fuck you...she want to see your pretty cunt squeezing around the silicone....she wanted to make you cum so hard like she did when she got herself off from your moans weeks ago.

finally, abby's hand reaches your pulsing clit...sticky and wet as her finger pads rolled against your swollen bud gently, rubbing in tight circles.

you moved your head deeper in between abby's neck, muffling your whines at her touch, your hips buckled as you felt ellie slowly begin to thrust up into you, you were close to coming undone before but just to feel abby's hand between your thighs giving you such pleasure that felt so heavenly...you felt like you could cum in seconds...

ellie's hips grew faster, roughly snapping up... the silicone going in and out of you in a sloppy - wet pace, she could feel your juices running down your legs to her waist...some of it even creating a little puddle combined with sweat "hmm love this pretty wet cunt - doing so good for us baby" ellie's words making you even more needy, the praise going to your pretty little head as you moaned louder.

the sounds you made only made ellie go faster as soft grunts escaped her mouth, her green eyes glued to abby's fingers that circled your clit, sometimes snapping to your chest, she loved having the view of your tits moving with her rapid movements.

"you like her touching you? hm? you like it better don't you..." ellie's words asked breathlessly as she teased you.

"i- please ellie i need-"

your words cut off by a harsh slap on your thigh, you yelped in pleasure at the feeling, thighs shaking, which only caused ellie to smirk.

abby's hips twitched as the pulsating in between her legs got stronger...small whines leaving her pink lips as she moved her fingers against your bud faster , other hand reaching over your stomach holding you..she felt like she would cum in her underwear with the way your moans entered her ears.

the way your body moved due to ellie fucking you, the way she could sometimes feel your lips on the side of her upper neck when you leaned in farther...to be honest abby felt like she could pass out...her mind still had yet to accept the current situation..

now - suddenly all four of abby's fingers pressed down on your cunt, she could hear you gasp at her action.

"p-please, i wan' it - please-" your words coming out in sentences, ellie or abby couldn't quite understand... not that it mattered.

"gonna cum baby? gonna cum on my dick?"

ellie's sentence could barely finish when your sudden loud moan teared through your body, echoing against the walls of her room..abby could feel your pussy pulsating against her fingers..she let out a loud whine and buried her head in your shoulders, her cunt clenching as she could feel her underwear get more soaked within seconds, hips twitching rapidly as she held you tighter, tears even stinging her eyes..feeling all of this sent her brain into a frenzy.

"oh - oh fuck...shit"

ellie could feel your legs twitching against her's, your body falling forward out of abby's grasp, head leaning against ellie's naked chest..body shaking as ellie's hands wrapped around you...one hand softly rubbing and tangling in your hair...mumbling endless amounts of praise in your ears...saying you did so good.

abby slowly sat down on the bed, readjusting her position and laying back, shaky breaths leaving her body..she could still feel her hips twitching from her recent orgasm.

once abby's caught her breath , her mind seemed to finally register what just occured...and all the girl could think was.

what the fuck?

slightly rushed ngl

[mapis-putellas]

𝑷𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔/𝑨.𝑷𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒔

It started as any other day in Barcelona. The sun was shining, the air warm but pleasant, and Alexia was finishing up her morning routine, methodical as always. You watched from the sofa, scrolling absently through your phone while she moved around the flat, gathering her essentials for a planned lunch outing. Her cupra keys hung on the hook by the door, glinting temptingly in the light. That’s when the idea struck.

For months, you’d been relegated to the passenger seat of her beloved car, and while you adored her insistence on taking care of you, you sometimes longed to be in control. You had your licence; you were a good driver. Yet every time you reached for those keys, she would scoop them away, pulling you into one of those deceptively gentle hugs that left no room for argument. You’d tried reasoning, teasing, even sulking, but nothing swayed her. Today, though, you decided it would be different.

You slipped off the sofa as quietly as possible, grabbing the keys and slipping out of the flat. It was a little thrill to descend the stairs and approach her car, knowing she was still inside, oblivious. Sliding into the driver’s seat, you adjusted it to your height, smiling mischievously as you waited for her.

When Alexia finally appeared, her bag slung over one shoulder, sunglasses perched on her head, she froze mid-step. Her eyes locked onto you through the windscreen, her brows furrowing in confusion before the realisation hit. She pointed at you and shook her head, already muttering to herself in Spanish as she strode towards the car.

You rolled the window down just as she reached the driver’s side door. “What are you doing?” she asked, her accent thick but her tone unmistakably firm.

“I’m driving,” you said simply, flashing her your most innocent smile.

“No,” she said immediately, gesturing for you to get out. “Move.”

You shook your head, hands gripping the wheel as if your life depended on it. “Not today, baby. You always drive. It’s my turn.”

She sighed, exasperated, her hands going to her hips. “You can’t drive my car. You know this.”

“I can, and I will,” you replied, grinning up at her. “Come on, Alexia, just let me.”

Her eyes narrowed. “No. Get out.”

You leaned back in the seat, feigning relaxation. “Not happening.”

She tugged at the handle, which of course you had locked, then let out another huff of frustration. “Unlock the door, mi vida,” she demanded, but her voice had softened slightly, as if trying a gentler approach might work.

“Nope. Passenger side’s open, though,” you quipped, gesturing to the other door with a cheeky grin.

She threw her hands up in frustration, muttering something under her breath that you didn’t quite catch. Then she marched around to the passenger side, yanking that door open. For a moment, you thought she’d given in, but no, she leaned over, reaching for the keys still in the ignition. You quickly pulled them out and held them up.

“Nice try,” you said, grinning.

Her glare could’ve melted steel. “You are impossible,” she said, straightening up and storming back to your side of the car.

“Am I, though?” you teased, twirling the keys in your hand.

“Yes,” she said firmly, crossing her arms. “Get out.”

“Nope,” you said, popping the keys back into the ignition and revving the engine lightly. The sound made her stop in her tracks, her eyes widening slightly.

“You wouldn’t,” she said, her voice quieter now, a hint of disbelief creeping in.

You raised an eyebrow, foot hovering over the pedal. “Try me.”

Her jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought she might genuinely lose it. But then she sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose before muttering something else in Spanish. Finally, she walked back around to the passenger side and got in, slamming the door behind her.

“Happy?” she said, her tone sharp.

“Ecstatic,” you replied, trying -and failing- to hide your grin.

The car pulled out smoothly, and you couldn’t help but glance over at her. She sat stiffly, arms crossed and her lips pressed into a thin line. You reached over, placing your hand on her thigh the way she always did with you.

“Relax, baby,” you said, giving her leg a gentle squeeze. “I’ve got this.”

She didn’t reply, her gaze fixed firmly out the window.

“Oh, come on,” you teased. “You’re being a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

“Dramatic?” she repeated, finally turning to look at you. “This is my car.”

“And you’ll get it back in one piece,” you assured her. “Probably.”

Her eyes widened again, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Kidding! I’m kidding!”

“Not funny,” she muttered, though the corner of her mouth twitched ever so slightly.

“You’re cute when you’re grumpy,” you said, unable to resist.

She shot you a look, but there was no real heat behind it. “Stop talking.”

“Not a chance,” you said cheerfully. “I have to enjoy this moment while I can. It’s not every day I get to call you the passenger princess.”

Her scoff was immediate. “I am not-”

“Oh, but you are,” you interrupted, grinning at her. “Sitting there, all pretty and pouty. It suits you.”

She muttered something in Spanish, but you were pretty sure it wasn’t a compliment.

By the time you reached the restaurant, she looked like she was ready to explode -or possibly murder you. You parked the car with a flourish, turning to her with a smug smile.

“See? No scratches, no dents. I’m a great driver,” you said.

She didn’t reply, simply shaking her head as she got out of the car. But as you walked around to meet her, she caught your wrist, pulling you close.

“Never again,” she said firmly, her voice low.

“We’ll see,” you replied, leaning up to kiss her cheek.

Her lips twitched, but she quickly schooled her expression into something neutral as she dragged you into the restaurant.

-

The moment you slipped Alexia’s car keys out of her back pocket, you knew you were in trouble. The sharp intake of breath you heard from her told you everything you needed to know before you even turned to look at her. She was standing still, her hands on her hips, her jaw set. Her eyes locked onto yours with a mix of annoyance and incredulity, and for a moment, you thought she might actually explode.

You froze for half a second, your fingers curling tightly around the keys as you gauged your options. Her voice, low and firm, broke the tense silence between you.

“Dámelos,” she demanded, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Your eyes widened, but instead of obeying, you did the exact opposite. Without a word, you bolted across the nearly empty car park, the keys clutched tightly in your hand.

“¡Dios mío!” Alexia muttered under her breath before taking off after you.

You could hear her footsteps behind you, heavy and determined, but you knew you had the advantage. She may have been taller, her stride longer, but you were faster, and you had no intention of giving up your prize so easily.

“Stop running!” she called, her voice sharp as she chased you around the rows of parked cars.

“Then stop trying to take the keys!” you shouted back, throwing a grin over your shoulder.

Her eyes narrowed, and she quickened her pace, but you zigzagged between cars, keeping just out of her reach. You could hear her muttering in Spanish, words you didn’t quite catch but that you knew were probably not the most flattering.

“Esto no es gracioso!” she called, her tone somewhere between frustration and disbelief. “Give me the keys!”

“Not a chance, baby!” you teased.

She huffed audibly, her strides becoming more purposeful. “You’re going to make me really angry,” she warned, but her empty threats only spurred you on.

You darted around a lamppost, narrowly avoiding her outstretched hand as she tried to grab you. “You’re going to have to work harder than that!” you taunted, feeling a surge of adrenaline as you stayed just ahead of her.

“Eres imposible!” she shot back, her tone full of exasperation.

Despite her irritation, there was something playful in her eyes that told you she wasn’t entirely serious. Still, her determination was undeniable, and you could feel her frustration mounting as the chase continued.

Finally, after a few more laps around the car park, you noticed her pace slowing slightly. She stopped in the middle of an empty lane, hands on her knees as she caught her breath. Her shoulders rose and fell heavily, and when she looked up at you, there was something different in her expression.

“Amor,” she said softly, her voice carrying a note of weariness.

You slowed to a stop, guilt creeping in as you saw the faint trace of hurt in her eyes. You didn’t want to actually upset her. Clutching the keys tightly in your hand, you hesitated for a moment before walking towards her.

“Alexia,” you started, your voice gentle. “I didn’t mean to-”

Before you could finish your sentence, she straightened up and lunged forward, grabbing the keys from your hand in one swift motion.

Your jaw dropped as you realised what had just happened. “Wait, what?!”

She stepped back, a triumphant grin spreading across her face as she held up the keys like a trophy. “Gotcha,” she said smugly.

It hit you like a tonne of bricks. She’d played you. She’d used your soft spot for her to her advantage, knowing you wouldn’t be able to resist comforting her.

“You tricked me!” you exclaimed, your voice a mix of shock and betrayal.

Her grin widened as she twirled the keys around her finger. “You deserved it,” she replied.

“How dare you!” you pouted, crossing your arms and sinking down onto the curb in dramatic fashion.

She let out a soft laugh, her steps slow and deliberate as she walked over to where you were sitting. “Vamos,” she said, nodding towards the car.

“No,” you replied stubbornly, refusing to look at her.

“Amor,” she tried again, crouching slightly to meet your gaze.

You shook your head, keeping your arms firmly crossed. “Not talking to you.”

Her expression softened slightly, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she reached out to brush her fingers against your knee. “Don’t be like this,” she said softly.

You shrugged her hand off, turning your face away from her. “You played me, Alexia. That’s low.”

She let out a quiet sigh, standing up straight and crossing her own arms as she looked down at you. “Okay,” she said simply, her tone almost too casual.

Before you could process what she meant, she rounded your body, bent down, her strong arms wrapping around you as she hoisted you up off the curb like you weighed nothing.

“Alexia!” you squealed, your hands instinctively gripping her shoulders as she adjusted her hold on you, bouncing you up slightly so arms were beneath your ass.

“Now you come,” she said firmly, her voice carrying a hint of amusement as she started walking towards the car with you still in her arms.

You squirmed in her grasp, but her hold was unyielding. “Put me down!”

“No,” she replied simply, her tone light but final.

You huffed, your pout returning as you rested your chin on her shoulder. “I hate you,” you muttered, though the lack of conviction in your voice made it clear you didn’t mean it.

“No, you don’t,” she said confidently, her lips brushing against your shoulder as she spoke.

When she finally reached the car, she set you down gently, her hands lingering on your waist for a moment as she looked at you. “You’re very stubborn,” she said, her tone soft but teasing.

You rolled your eyes, still pouting as you leaned back against the car. “Takes one to know one.”

Her lips quirked into a small smile as she opened the passenger door, gesturing for you to get in. “Come on, mi vida.”

You hesitated for a moment, still tempted to cling to your sulk, but the warmth in her eyes and the gentle curve of her smile made it impossible to stay mad at her.

“Fine,” you muttered, sliding into the seat.

She leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before closing the door and walking around to the driver’s side.

As she started the car, you couldn’t help but glance over at her, a small smile tugging at your own lips despite yourself.

“You’re lucky I love you,” you said quietly, echoing her earlier words.

She glanced at you, her smile softening. “I know,” she replied, her voice filled with affection.

*

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan @ktgoodmorning @chelseacult

[foldingfittedsheets]

My beloved is very particular about their belongings. I was surprised when we first started dating about the scrutiny their loaned objects would be placed under when returned. Their car would be checked carefully for scrapes if someone loaded a bike into it, all returned objects were carefully and thoroughly looked over. Even now if Korben has bitten something left out like a dildo they’ll carefully look it over for damage it has one tiiiny tooth dent.

It won’t surprise anyone to learn that books they’d loaned people had previously been returned with broken spines and dog eared pages, and now it's very important to them to maintain their things in good condition. Their things weren’t treated with care and now it’s a sign of respect to them.

The first time they loaned me a book I was a little shocked that they received it back and began immediately investigating it for wear. To my chagrin there was indeed a tiny scuff at the corner where I’d put it in my bag too hastily. They said nothing, but nothing needed to be said.

Going forward I treated each book they gave me as utterly precious. I dogear my own pages but I’d never dare on a book that wasn’t mine and on their books I elevated to special protocols, handling them as gently as possible.

When it came to books I loaned them I got them back exactly as I’d handed them over. I had them read American Gods. They weren’t totally sold and I suggested the lighthearted sequel Anansi Boys might be more up their alley. It’s about a trickster god and his sons.

I was lounging when I got a call from my beloved. We usually texted, they’re not a phone talker so I picked up right away.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m so sorry,” they blurted.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, but I was getting in my car, and I had a coffee and I was trying to juggle things and well-“

The silence stretched out.

“What?” I asked gently, afire with curiosity.

“I left your book on top of my car and I drove off. When I realized I drove back but I couldn’t find it. I’m so sorry!”

As the words sank in a laugh started rising out of me. “You lost my book?”

“I’ll buy you a new copy! It was an accident!”

“I’m not mad, it’s okay! Its just really funny, you’re always so careful.”

I then realized that they were holding themself to their own standard, beating themself up for something that to me was just a silly mishap.

“It’s really okay! I’m not mad, you can get me a new copy.”

They did, and when I chuckle about it they still pout a little like the funny part is that they made a mistake.

But honestly the thought of someone coming upon a copy of a book about trickster gods being left in a coffee shop parking lot and taking it is the funniest part. I hope they enjoyed it.

[jjkbambi]

the best man! luigi mangione x reader

summary it’s your brother’s wedding this weekend. best man! luigi and you are in charge of finding something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue to gift your sister-in-law for the wedding!

no warnings! just fluff and vibes. slight enemies to lovers? he’s your brothers best friend, so naturally there’s a bit of a push and pull. comfort + slice of life . pls tell me if u like!

for the first and last time, your brother entrusts you with his shiny silver credit card.

the fancy card was shoved in the back of your scuffed clear phone case, and yet, you couldn’t help but feel a touch of pride swinging it around. it felt like everyone around you now knew about your exclusive access to mediocre airplane food and flight points no one ever knew how to use. of course, the real perk was priceless: this thing was doing a great job at stroking your ego.

“i’m sure we won’t find something borrowed at swarvoski, y/n.”

your brother’s last-minute plea to fulfill the wedding tradition of something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue came with two conditions: an unlimited budget and the unspoken punishment of spending the weekend with his best friend.

“luigi, all diamonds are borrowed,” you huff. “we didn’t find them under the mall or in america.”

luigi had dropped by your house far too early in the morning for you to be in a good mood. he hadn’t been fair, either, proudly announcing that he’d already fulfilled two out of four of the needed items on the list. something old: the beloved couples prom photo glossed over and re-framed, tossed at the back of his car for all those with eyes to see. and something blue: a pair of bright blue oval sunglasses the boys had found in tokyo. you tried to tell him that, objectively, the glasses were really fucking ugly and there was just no way anyone could give that to a woman on her wedding day. luigi wouldn’t listen. he tried to sell you on the idea that the foreign souvenir was sentimental, proof your brother had been thinking about her despite time and distance, but you were already settled on the idea that oval sunglasses hadn’t been a good idea since the nineties.

you stare down the case of rings intently. before you can find one that catches your eye, luigi interrupts again, “she’s already getting two rings.”

“she has two hands,” you argue.

“you have two shoulders; you don’t wear a bag on each everyday.”

“you don’t see me everyday.”

“right.” he agrees seemingly just to agree. the brunette boy leans over the counter, casting his masculine judgement over the case of brightly colored jewelry.

just as the quiet settles in, he comes with a grumble, “these are impractical.”

they’re supposed to be. they wear bold, unconventional jewels. to his point, their gallant design teetered on the edge of gaudy, yet there’s the one. the white idyllia cocktail ring: a mix of cut gemstones, with a delicate flower design at its heart. the petals were a collection of smooth yellow stones, curled in a way that almost looks like they’re caught mid-bloom, while the rhodium plating gives it a nice silver contrast. it’s sweet but striking, the kind of piece that demands attention without screaming for it.

“they’re cocktail rings,” you say, defensive.

luigi lifts one shoulder up to shrug. “they’re tacky.”

“you wear hybrid shorts and souvenir tees—“

“are you two alright over here?” the sales associate chirps, all bright eyes and perfect teeth.

“we are perfect,” you reply through a small, forced smile, your headache blooming like a bad omen.

she’s tall, polished, and dangerously cheerful for how early it is. “what’s the occasion?”

“a wedding—” you start.

“oh, wow, a wedding?” she gasps, practically vibrating with enthusiasm. “congratulations! you two make such a beautiful couple.”

the sheer horror of spending any more life tethered to luigi hits you like a truck. you open your mouth to deny it, but before you can, luigi nods with a polite, “thank you.”

he doesn’t even flinch, casually inspecting a display of bracelets while you’re left to choke on your indignation. you freeze, caught between correcting the mistake and just letting it slide. but before you can make up your mind, luigi leans in, casually gesturing to a row of silver tennis bracelets. “we’re actually just picking out something nice for her before the big night,” he says with a playful grin, his tone light and teasing.

the sales associate beams, clearly oblivious to the tension between you two. “how lovely!“ she sings. “you’re both so lucky to have each other.”

“so lucky,” you manage.

luigi, on the other hand, doesn’t miss a beat, turning to the associate with that effortless charm you’ve heard so much about but never actually seen in practice. “we were just talking about how much we prefer simpler jewelry, you know? nothing too flashy. like those rings over there, totally not our thing, right babe?” he grins, nudging you playfully before adding, “these thin bracelets look nice, though.”

“tennis bracelets,” you correct him, trying hard not to look annoyed.

“whatever you want, babe,” he says with a wink, clearly having way too much fun with this.

the sales woman says something chirpy before fluttering off to grab a tray of options, and luigi leans closer to you with a stupid playful smirk. “you know, it’s fun messing with people sometimes,” he tells you.

you rub your temples in attempt to soothe your storming headache. “you’re just being annoying,” you say, deflated. “i’m gonna go grab a coffee. please just don’t get an ugly color like yellow or green.”

he cocks his head to the side. “i like those colors?”

that doesn’t surprise you. “you’re one of a kind, mangione,” you hum, the words almost losing their bite as you slip the shiny silver card from your case, tapping it lightly against his chest. “have fun. just text me when you’re done.”

luigi opens his mouth to reply with something, perhaps incentive to stay to keep you between him and the sales associate, but before he can get it out, the winter chill finally gets the best of you. you make a sharp, purposeful exit, walking fast enough to look like you know where you’re going, but not so fast it’s obvious you’re trying to escape.

the cold air bites at your skin, but your instincts were right: espresso is the only thing that’ll fix your morning. you settle by the fountain, wrapping your hands around the warmth of your cup, grateful for the quiet. just as the steam from your drink begins to settle, you hear the rustle of gift bags. expensive gift bags.

you look up. luigi, brown-haired and a bit late. “you didn’t answer my texts,” he says.

you blink, then glance over at your phone.

from Luigi Mangione (Penn) Where are you

from Luigi Mangione (Penn) I hate this mall

Luigi Mangione (Penn) is now sharing his location with you! Would you like to share it back?

from Luigi Mangione (Penn) Fucking answer me

3 missed calls

“oh my god,” you say, eyes widening. “luigi, i swear i’d never do that on purpose.”

before he takes the chair beside you, he gives you a telling look. you would.

“pep,” you frown, the childhood nickname rolling off your tongue seemingly ticked him off more. “seriously, my mind hasn’t been working all day. i haven’t slept and—you know. everything’s just been weird.”

“alright,” he sighs, trying. “what’s bothering you?”

“you’d think it’s stupid,” you say, trying to dismiss the purpose of your sadness entirely. at the end of the day, you didn’t want to get into your dip in depression with your brother’s best friend. all your woes would just turn into an endless run of joke material at next year’s thanksgiving. “what’d you buy?”

“silver thing.” luigi answers, sliding the giftbag toward you. “shiny, impossible to hate. we’ll have to pull together something more interesting for something borrowed.”

you nod, flying through the clouds of gift wrap to get to the beautifully extravagant

yellow

box.

your lips pull into a straight line.

“they were out of the other color boxes. but the bracelets silver,” he tells you.

you touch the box gingerly and try to take the high road. there was no reason to end a bad week worse. “i’m sure it’s nice,” you manage.

luigi crosses his arms over his chest. “look in the other bag,” he says, slightly pushy. you brighten up, slightly at this—he was a smart guy, but was he wise and willing enough to invest in options?

you turn to the other bag with the other box, also mustard fucking yellow, but smaller and more delicate. pulling the top open, you reveal the white flower ring you’d been eyeing earlier—its petals a soft, intricate design that now seems even more beautiful in your hands.

“you kept looking at that ring,” luigi points out. “it’s yellow.”

you first look at him, then the ring. did he seriously buy this just to prove a fucking point?

“it’s white and gold.”

“says yellow on the receipt.”

you sigh, shutting the lid and dropping it back into it’s fancy gift bag. “i guess we’ll have to ask the bride.”

“we can go back and ask the sales associate for all i fuckin’ care,” he says, his tone firm. you laugh at how silly this is.

“you swiped my brother’s card for a ring, just so we could argue about it?” you say, rolling your eyes. “somehow, i’m the one everyone calls crazy?”

“no, i put that one on my card,” luigi corrects. “you can keep it.”

you freeze, looking up at him, confused. he wasn’t the type to indulge in unnecessary accessories. he hated consumerism. hell, he’d gone off about capitalism all the way over here. “what do you mean?”

“you liked it.” he shrugged. “it’d look good on you anyway, just keep it.”

you blink, momentarily thrown off. it sounds so silly, but as you look at him, you realize it’s the nicest thing that’s happened to you all week. you feel a warmth spread through you, unexpected but welcome. you lunge in for what was probably your first ever hug.

“aw, pep,” you say, tone soft and musical.

he pulls back, “no—we don’t have to—”

“no, seriously, you have no idea how awful this week has been for me,” you sigh into his neck. his warmth feels nice. warranted. he’d allow it. “thank you.”

“tell me,” luigi says into your hair. he hugs his arms around the small of your back, gentle, soft, barely there.

“hm?”

“tell me what happened.”

you try to mask the tension in your chest as you search for the least emotional way to explain your drop in enthusiasm. you pull away and start cautiously.

“well… my boyfriend pulled out of the wedding.”

“…oh.” he blinks, slow to a reaction. “is he okay?“

“we broke up,” you truth. the words feel foreign on your tongue, awkward in their simplicity. of all the people you expected to have this conversation with—gossiping over coffee about your ex—instagram user luigi.from.fiji was nowhere near the top of the list.

“oh,” luigi says. you feel him turning in, his gaze sharpening, studying you closely. you deliberately adjust your hair and look away, trying to escape the intensity of his attention.

“it’s whatever.”

“it’s not whatever. are you okay?” he asks, the concern in his voice making it clear he’s not going to let you off the hook that easily.

you put a hand on his wrist. “just don’t tell anyone. everyone in the family still really likes him.”

“y/n, i wouldn’t do that,” luigi swears. “and for the record, i never liked him.”

“you met him, what, once?”

“first impressions only take seven seconds,” luigi says, his tone shifting, a hint of a smile in his voice. “he wore a band tee to my parents’ country club. any reasonable person would’ve at least read the dress code before stepping in. it’s fuckin’ golf, not bowling.”

“luigi mangione, the fashion police,” you retort mockingly.

luigi relaxes into his seat, chocolate brown eyes searching yours. “so what happened? what’d he do?”

“everything just started to suck,” you admit, your voice softer now, like you’re still trying to make sense of it all. “he forgets what weekend the wedding is, forgets he has a trip planned with his boys. it’s like everything else comes first, and i’m just… somewhere in the background. i asked him if he knew when my birthday was — and he just stood there, silent.”

“so you broke up with him?”

“does that surprise you?” you ask, lifting an eyebrow.

he raises his hands in defense, a small laugh escaping him. “i was surprised you gave him a chance,” luigi argues, his gaze reuniting with yours, a different comfort in his gaze. “i’m not surprised you left him. surprised it took you so long, sure.”

“oh, fuck off,” you dispute, playful but sharp. “you don’t get to have an i told you so moment right now. you met him once then moved away!”

luigi scoffs. “it’s not rocket science, you know. i didn’t have to be across the street to see that you’re way too pretty to be wasting your time. honestly, i don’t know how anyone could ever forget someone like you.”

you hate that you flush at the compliment, quickly shaking your head back into reality. “you don’t have to be nice to me just ‘cause i had a shitty week, pep.”

he rolls his eyes. unbelievable. even your gentlest moments were shielded by your wall of contretemps. “i’m not being nice just because of that,” luigi says, his voice dropping a little lower. “i’m being nice because you deserve it. shitty week or not.”

you feel light-headed, like the ground beneath you is shifting with every word. the afternoon sun hasn’t even touched you yet, but it feels like you’ve been swept away by a storm. “thanks, i guess,” you say, suddenly shy and unlike yourself.

he leans forward — just a touch closer, his lips curling into something warmer, more certain. “you’re welcome,” he says, his gaze never leaving yours. it’s as if he’s trying to read the very contours of your soul, tracing each flicker of thought that dances across your face. his eyes move slowly, carefully, like he’s afraid to miss even the faintest shift in your expression, as though every moment with you holds something worth studying, something worth remembering. “and in case you didn’t know—if you ever need someone to make you feel special, i’m always around. not just ‘cause you deserve it, but because i’d be lucky to get the chance.”

your heart skips a beat, and for a moment, time seems to slow down. you can’t even really help the smile that tugs at your lips. “you really know how to make a girl feel special, don’t you?”

luigi chuckles softly, a hand brushing lightly against yours. “only when it’s you.”

[fandomscombine]

Sorry, Bossman

Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Reader

BG: When a Sunday morning in with your secret boyfriend turned into a sudden work meeting. Will the early morning grogginess cause a slip up? Especially since the except profilers have noticed your recent lateness?

A/N: Wanted to be secretive on who the reader’s pairing would be but I has to properly tag the fic - so just pretend you didn’t know the reader’s S.O. is Aaron Hotchner in the first few paragraphs okay? Lol

Anyway, it’s my second ever Aaron Hotchner fic. Still coming around to perfection his tone and essence.I hope you enjoy this sweet fluffy fic!

WC: 1034

>>>GENERAL MASTERLIST<<<

>>>CRIMINAL MINDS MASTERLIST<<<

It’s Sunday morning and you can feel the rays of sunshine seeping through your bedroom curtain. The team has just gotten back from a week-long grueling case Friday night and you’ve missed the feeling of being in your own bed. Saturday was spent lounging around being a homebody as your mind and body recharges - your plans for today? To linger in this bliss and let the real world slip away.

You roll over, back now towards your window. With eyes still closed, you lazily extend your arm until you find a warm presence. A soft chuckle fills the room as you snuggle closer to your partner. “Hmm morning, sweetheart.”

“Morning, my love” You reply. Voice muffled as you place a kiss on his chest. Your head finds solace as a steady heartbeat enters your ear. Wanting nothing more, than to stay in this moment longer. 

But in true universe fashion, it decides that a one day break is more than enough. 

The bed dips and you feel a cold breeze brush through your body as the blanket is moved. You keep your eyes closed, silently pleading this is just a part of a dream and that when you wake up you get to have Sunday home.

“Yes, I’ll have my team notified and in the office within the hour.” 

The words flow muffled into your ears - the pillow doing little to discard the reality of it all. 

A hand comes up your arm, he knows you’re not a morning person but work can’t wait. “Come on sweetheart, we’ve got a case”

You groan, there’s no way you can say no to him - especially when you’re in the receiving end of his soft eyes.  But that doesn’t mean you can tease him to get a few more moments in bed. “Sorry, bossman hasn’t called me yet.” 

He gives you his signature pointed stare and gives into your play. Your ringtone fills the room, the caller ID “Agent Hotchner” illuminates the screen officially calling you in for the case.

“Alright, alright.” Accepting surrender as you mute your phone. 

“Thanks.” Aaron reaches out his hand to help you off the bed. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“Something quick, a sandwich maybe? I still have to get home and repack my go bag.”

Aaron stares a bit confused.

“Cause we went straight here after the case? And I’ve been wearing your clothes” Gesturing to what you currently have on - Aaron’s beloved brown half zip sweater and his boxers. “Not that I’m complaining or anything.” There’s just something completely domestic about wearing Aaron’s clothes. Not worrying about looking perfect and being wrapped in Aaron’s home life. You can’t help but smile at the normality of it all.

“Right, it got me thinking” Aaron steps closer, grabbing your waist. “Maybe we should get you a drawer, you know since you practically live here half the time.”

He is about a head taller than you, so you wrap your arms around his neck as stability. Biting your lips to stop your heart from racing and the premature grin that’s threatening to take over, you ask. “Aaron Hotchner, are you saying that you wanna take this to the next level?” You ask, 

“Yes I do.” He says with all gentle seriousness. This close, you can clearly see his dilated pupils under the dim lights.

“Then that sounds like a plan.” Pulling him closer, relaying all the joy and love that’s oozing out of your heart into a searing kiss.

~

“Sorry I’m late.” You announce to the room. It’s current 8:23am and the team is already 3 pages into the case debrief. 

“Take your seat agent.” Hotch replies, not looking at you as he focuses on turning the next slide. To most, Hotch’s reaction is normal that of a boss’ slight annoyance at his employee’s tardiness. 

But you ofcourse know his tell, an involuntary, subconscious sign that indidicates their hiding something. Which in this case, if Aaron scratching the back of his neck - an act you’ve became familiar with ever since you started dating. It was Aaron’s way of hiding his blush, though you have assured him that he looks absolutely adorable when he reddens. 

There’s just this power of his dimples that takes a hold on you and leaves you mesmorised. 

“Yes, sir.”  You settle as quickly as you can right next to Morgan. He hands you a spare set of case files when something catches his eye.

“Who’s the lucky guy?” Morgan asks, the shift in tone notable.

“Lucky guy?” Furrowing your brow. Derek Morgan is known to be a tease and you often join in on the fun - although you’re not liking it when the spotlight is on you.

“Yea..” Joins in Emily - this is the type of tea that would get her energy up this early in the morning. “You aren’t normally late but these past couple of cases you are~” 

“What?” With the team slowing teaming up against you couple with the morning brain fog - your defensiveness is apparent.

“Reid, back me up!”

“Just from this past month alone, y/n has been late 3 times.” Chimed in the young doctor. “Most notably after our long cases or on Mondays.”  

The audacity of Reid smiling after stating the fact nonchalantly. You picture your glare burning holes through the smart brain of his. However, before you can succeed in doing so, Derek drops the fatal shots.

“And next time don’t forget the badly covered hickeys at the under your ear.”

You’re dumbfounded, instantly grabbing your phone and checking your ear with the selfie camera. Lo and behold the unmistakable purple mark just below your ear lobe. Wincing slightly as your finger touches the tender spot.

Eyeing the team before landing on Aaron. Arching a brow as if to say ‘Why did you have to bite so hard?’

“Wait, Hotch? No way!” Morgan exclaimed, head moving left and right as he connects the dots. 

The silence that follows is death-defying, never have you seen a room full of expert profilers stuned and frozen in place.

You’re caught. Sorry, Bossman

It’s Aaron who breaks the spell. “Looks like the secret is out, sweetheart.” He says, sporting an uncharacteristic smirk.