#questions I ask myself as I think about a new fic
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snarky-magpie · 3 days ago
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jeggy text fic!?! can you tell us about around the corner!!
Ooooh yes, so happy to! Thanks for the ask!
I plan to make it my next project after TCOS - it's all outlined and I already wrote an opening scene and then had to forcibly stop myself because I could see it taking over my life like PS. did and I really do want to finish TCOS first. I kinda went back and forth on whether it should be prongsfoot or jegulus because I wanted to write a prongsfoot text fic (there aren't any, or I don't know about them), but the theme doesn't really suit prongsfoot, and the idea started with jegulus, so I've decided to stick with it.
So anyway, it's a You've Got Mail AU, and if you know the movie, you can guess that James and Regulus will be friends online and rivals/enemies IRL. In the movie, a small bookstore owner fights against a Bezor-like (although less sleazy) character with his huge chain, I'm gonna make James run a small coffee/cat shelter, and the Black family opens a giant new branch of their coffee chain around the corner (title drop baby!). And who's overseeing the new project? Why Regulus Black, of course.
There's going to be a lot of shenanigans, vet Sirius, kitties running rampant, exasperated Remus, and a lot more. Since it's based on a romcom, it will be mostly unserious with a touch of angst, maybe, but there will be no stabbing and mostly no suffering. And the Black Brothers will not have a super close relationship but they won't be antagonistic, so no BB angst this time. Anyway, here's a snippet:
Remus: Did you see it?
James: See what? Could you be more specific, Moony? I can read your texts, not your mind.
James: Or are we playing a game?
James: Did I see a man wearing a fox as a hat?
James: Once, but not today.
James: I think it was taxidermied. I hope it was taxidermied. For the fox’s sake. Being paraded on a sweaty bloke’s head through London? Talk about a cruel and unusual punishment. 
James: Or maybe something else. Did I see the last episode of Severance?
James: Yes, and what a complete mindfuck. My head is still reeling. 
James: I really want a drag of what the screenwriters are smoking. Looks like the good stuff. 
Remus: Imagine me pinching my nose in frustration. How are you able to type that fast?
James: Voice messaging features. Welcome to the future, baby. 
James: Better question is, why aren’t you taking advantage of it?
Remus: Because the future is dark and full of terrors and chatty bosses. Also, I’m on the bus, and people would give me nasty looks. Tell me, are you at the shop?
James: You know it. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
James: Speaking of Peanut the Cat, of course, but it applies to me too.
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jakekazansky · 8 days ago
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Okay but like what if Carole and goose lived and got divorced? What if Jake had two naval aviator dads and a civilian dad? What if Carole and Charlie became a couple after her divorce from goose? What if goose and mav became a thing raising Bradley primarily with him spending summers in DC with Charlie and Carole? What if Jake’s civilian Dad and Carole were all friends? What if the compacflt enjoyed watching telenovelas and his shows have been boring lately? What if he told mav he’s hosting a cookout to honor the daggers for a good mission? What if mav forgets the compacflt has two gay partners and a son cause he and goose primarily flew for squadrons in the Atlantic fleet? What if Jake had his own admiral husband? What would go down in the compacflt’s backyard if all of this was true?
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bikananjarrus · 4 months ago
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officially outlining what i've been calling the resurrection fic aka the post-rebels s4 sequel fic aka the ghost crew working through all their grief fic etc etc. and oh man. when i get this written.......
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non-un-topo · 9 months ago
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I thought it was smart to choose Tuareg veiling as a research topic for an assignment because it's something I'm interested in and want to write about in fics, but now all I want to do is write and I have no time ;;
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thebibliosphere · 3 months ago
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I’m ill and miserable so I’m tinkering with my Pennyworth universe fics and giving myself emotions about Patricia Wayne, of all people.
Non-Pennyworth fans can scroll on if you want, but do we think, just for a moment, that Bruce might adopt his party boy persona a little bit from his Aunt Pat?
I do. I think he looked at his bottle blonde auntie with her giant sunglasses, ditzy demeanor, cigarette always in hand, rumored to have a coke spoon up her sleeve, and a different lover ever week and saw someone sad and hurting but also someone smart enough to put up the exact kind of facade that lets her maneuver through their world, this high society minefield of gossip, judgement and scrutiny, and force people to look the other way out of sheer mortified scandal.
“Did you hear what Patricia Wayne got up to last week?”
“No, tell me.”
She’s all anyone can talk about. This ditzy socialite heiress with her too blonde hair and her too short dresses. Too loud, too bold, too much.
But none of them really know her.
The real her—the auntie with the sad eyes and the biggest smile who used to show up out of nowhere and take him for ice cream in the middle of the school day much to Martha’s annoyance.
The auntie who used to stand behind his father and mimic his serious facial expressions just to make Bruce laugh.
The auntie who showed up to the school run one time looking like a Christmas tree, hair still in foils from the salon because Alfred got detained and when Tommy called to ask she left before the hairdresser had a chance to take them out.
His Auntie Pat who lets him ask questions about the sister he never met and who everyone else is too sad to talk about.
Patricia Wayne who appears at Wayne Manor the moment she heard about Tommy and Martha’s deaths, looking pale and gaunt, aged about a hundred years in the time it took to drive from New York to Gotham because while flying might have been quicker, driving let her scream and howl her grief out because Bruce is a quiet child who needs quiet words and Patricia has never been very good at that but for him she’ll do it. She’ll rip her vocal cords out to give him the quiet solace he needs if that’s what it takes.
Patricia Wayne who signs over full custody to Alfred Pennyworth the moment she can because she loves Bruce but knows herself well enough to know that she’d be a terrible co-parent but also because it makes her want to jump into Gotham harbor with stones in her pockets seeing Tommy looking up at her from behind his eyes.
Auntie Pat who dips in and out of his adolescence like a lightning strike, teaches him how to act and move and glide through the world his parents tolerated and Alfred only knows how to interact with from the sidelines.
Teaches him how to flirt and charm and smile, how to be a darling of the press while never giving anything away.
Auntie Pat who catches him hiding in his parents old bedroom at a party, looking at himself in Martha’s old mirror and listens to the heartbreak in his voice when he admits he can see Martha’s features fading in his face as his jaw squares out. Pat pierces his ear for him, holding a needle over a flame, so he can wear one of Martha’s earrings, Thomas’s cufflinks on his wrists.
Patricia Wayne who watches him start to bulk out. Sees the bruises and cuts that definitely don’t come from polo practice or whatever the fuck Bruce claims they’re from.
Patricia Wayne who looks Alfred dead in the eye when a caped crusader begins stalking the streets of Gotham and remarks loudly at a party that she has no idea where Bruce has got to, but if she had to guess, he’s been detained by a pretty face. You know how Tommy was at his age, the apple never falls far from the tree…
She’ll never ask, and Alfred will never tell, but she’s always got an alibi ready.
Bruce was with her the whole time, officers. Batman? Don’t be absurd. He’s a Wayne. What kind of family do you think they are? Why, you might as well accuse her dearly departed brother of being a secret agent for the government. His wife too while you’re at it. Honestly, the nerve…
Patricia Wayne who coos sweetly at eight year old Dick but tells him quite seriously if he ever calls her “Great Aunt Patricia” ever again she’s taking the toaster for a bath.
She hasn’t had this much work and Botox done for nothing, thank you very much.
I dunno man. I just want him to have someone in his life that when the Brucie Wayne persona jumps out the whole of upper Gotham goes, “oh, he got those Wayne genes. Oh okay. Carry on.”
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ningvory · 5 months ago
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SCREAM - jang wonyoung
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1,740 words // yall i wanted to do kinktober sooo baddd but im so outta ideas and school and work has been draining😔 so instead i'll just write 2-3 more halloween themed fics
CW: noncon -> dubcon, ghostface!wonyoung, big dick wony, bully!reader, a little knife play, choking, backshots, doggy, missionary, a little tit play, mentions of reader getting impregnated, squirting, not proofread lolz
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its about 11pm on a friday, 'means girls' is playing on your living room tv while you were in the kitchen searching for a pot to put your noodles in. your parents left for their business trip to wherever, you weren't really paying attention after they mentioned you'll be alone for two weeks and that you had a spending allowance of 5k, which is why you were wearing your new black lingerie set under your fuzzy pink robe.
you were humming a song as you head to the pantry to get a bottle of water to fill the pot with until you heard your phone ringtone go off. you went to mute the tv and grabbed your phone, tapping the answer button. you held the phone up to your ear but you're met with silence.
"hello?~" you questioned, dragging out the word. it was a habit of yours when you were annoyed,
"didn't think you'd pick up." the voice was cheerful, too cheerful to the point where it had you furrow your eyebrows trying figure out who's calling you at this time.
"well, i did. so.." you responded with a little bit of attitude. you were starving and here this stranger is playing on your phone. "listen, who the hell are you and what do you want?" you raise your voice a octave.
"your tits look good in that bra, wish i can see the way your ass looks in the panties." you furrow your eyebrows once more. every window was locked and your curtains blocked any prying eyes from seeing inside.
"um—you must've gotten the wrong number or something. i'm hanging up now." you smile half heartedly, trying to wrap things up, whoever this girl is can probably hear your labored breathing.
"hang up this fuckin' phone and i’m killing you myself!" she quickly responded, you froze immediately. especially after hearing some sort of bang coming from upstairs, “not so tought without your friends here, hm y/n?"
you were assuming this was a silly halloween prank call but she knows you personally! she knows your friends and even your name—you can admit that you were a bitch to most people but you didn't think that someone would break in and kill you for it!
"w-what kinda joke is this? this isn’t funny!" you let out a nervous laugh. no way this is fucking real, this is just a prank, right?
the person lets out a hysterical laugh—almost like she’s gone crazy. "you think this is a joke? was it a joke when you make every single day a living hell for me?" she asked but you remained silent, "now you wanna act like a scared little girl? don't you think its time to get what you deserve?" she asks.
the amount of people you’ve been a bitch too, its hard to guess who this person was. the fact that this persons voice was low and raspy to the point where you couldn’t even identify who’s voice this is didn’t help you either.
"i think we should play a game. i’d advice you listen, if you want to live that is." you can hear her smiling through the phone.
your heart is racing now, you have a gut feeling that this person is in the big ass house somewhere and that promise of her killing you is haunting you.
"fine. what's this game?" you try to put on that tough façade, still holding onto your pride.
"go upstairs. into your room." she commands you and you hate it but all you can do now is obey her words.
you grip your phone tighter and walk up the stairs—just like she said. you walk into your room. your pink led illuminated the room.
"good girl~ now, strip." her praise breaks the silence.
"what?" you whispered in disbelief.
"you heard me, don't make me do it for you."
you sigh, you really aren't sure why she wants you to strip for her. maybe to humiliate you on the internet on something but you comply to her demand, untying your robe and letting it drop to the floor. you stand, praying that’s all she meant when she said strip.
"do you not know what strip mean, bitch?" she questions, noticing that you're just standing there.
you stay silent, tears were beginning to form in your eyes and you let out a whimper, “why? are you some kinda sick pervert?” you demand, looking around the room.
it was silent for a while, it was like she hung up the phone on you. your heart was racing, you were getting anxious, “hello! where are you!? who are you!?” you cry out.
as soon as you asked that your closet door opened, revealing a figure dressed up like ghostface charging right at you. you let out a loud scream, backing up into the wall but the figure used that to her advantage, her long hands engulfed your neck, pushing your head into the wall and tightening the grip, forcing a strangled whine to fall from your mouth as you gasp for air desperately.
tears began to fall from your cheeks, your hands came up to hold her wrists before hitting them, desperately trying to pry them off your neck. she swiftly slapped you right across your face and manhandled your frail body on your bed, choked whines coming from you in the process.
“you look so cute like this, crying and at my mercy.” her tall body straddled yours, under her coat and her skirt, you can feel her bulge on your tummy. no way she’s hard from this.
if you were gonna die like this you might as well see who this sicko is, you removed your hands from the hands that were on your neck and you reached up to the ghost mask, removing it from their head. your eyes widen when you realized who it was. wonyoung.
her soulless eyes looked down at yours, a smile slowly found its way onto her face which made shivers run down your spine. she removed her grip on your neck, but still remained ontop of you.
you inhaled air almost immediately, trying to catch your breath before you can question the girl. but before you could even speak, she held a butcher knife right under your chin, “don’t scream or move.” she spoke menacingly.
“since you can’t seem to follow orders i’ll force you to,” she sighs. she starts to slowly move her knife down to your shaking body. the metal causing goosebumps to awake on your body. she trailed down until she got to your bra, she easily sliced it in half with her knife. “hey! i just bought this!” you spat, your first time wearing this set and it’s already ruined? this really isn’t your night.
“shut up, whore.” she’s quick to bring the knife back to your neck, pressing down on it but not enough to draw blood.
your bottom lips quivers which makes her coo before she gets off your tummy and flips your body over. you yelp in surprise with how easy she’s moving your body.
before you can complain she’s pushing your head into the sheets and placing the palm of her hand to your back, forcing you to arch your ass up in the air. to position muffled anything that you might’ve said and you felt your heart drop when you feel her bulge prodding against your ass.
wonyoung slices your panties as well before placing the knife in her mask. she pulls her boxers down along with her miniskirt. she giggles as she hovers over you of you, large hands pinning yours to the bed before she leans into your ear with a wicked grin.
“i’m going to make you scream.”
“w-wait!” you quickly retort squirming under her iron grip.
she wastes no time before she pushes her cock deep inside your virgin cunt.
it was like the wind got knocked out of you. you can't even make a sound, all you can concentrate on is the burn on your hole being stretched out. she had just pushed in and her cock is already kissing at your cervix, just how big is this girls cock?
wonyoung harshly gripped your hips and pulled out until her cock head was the only length left inside you before violently thrusting forward, letting out a long groan at the satisfaction. her hands left your back to grab your wrists to hold them behind your back, and forcefully yanking you back down onto her cock. she wasn't letting you get out of this anytime soon.
she was using your body like you were her human sized sex doll. drool was running down your chin and down to the valley of your tits and your eyes were crossed over, "for someone that hasn't taken a real dick before--you take it like a cock drunk whore." wonyoung muttered loud enough for you to hear. if you hadn't been too busy cryin' n moanin' on her dick, you would've made a snarky comeback.
she's never heard your voice become this high-pitched but she wasn't complaining, "s-so big! y-you're gonna break me!!" you whined through your tears.
"and you're gonna keep taking it all in your little cunt. even after i impregnate you." wonyoung quickly agreed to your statement, shooting three spurts of cum into your cunt.
you thought she'd be done but her hips never stopped smacking into yours, instead, she flipped you over into missionary. she swiftly picked up your left leg, placing it on her shoulder to reach a deep angle.
she continued to drill into your cum-stuffed pussy, her cock heavily throbbing inside you due to just seeing the lewd sight below her, "like being fucked by a killer, gonna cum all over me?"
"uh-huhh~" your eyes rolled back and your body began to shake. she took one of you tits that's bouncing with her thrust into your mouth, earning a loud moan from you. you suddenly felt a little funny, almost like you had to pee? your body soon went limp before you let out a whiny moan, squirting all over her dick and pelvis.
"at first i was just gonna fuck you and then kill her." she pulls out of your sloppy pussy and grabbed her knife. you flinch at these words, a bit terrified of what was gonna happen next, "but i think i'll make you my cute cock sleeve."
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pathologicalreid · 10 months ago
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hiii I love ur fics <3 I am OBSESSED with the prompt “can you come get me?” bc h/c makes me 💥💥💥 so I was thinking:
reader has been kidnapped by the latest unsub and the team is trying their hardest to find her but all the leads keep coming up empty until one day Spencer gets a call from her and the first thing she says is “can you come get me?” she sounds extremely upset and afraid so Spencer and Hotch leave to go find her. when they get there, she looks like she’s been through hell so they rush her to the hospital to be checked out, all the while they can’t seem to get any info out of her about what happened.
Spencer & reader could be platonic or romantic, whichever you like. (also I was thinking maybe hotchner!reader ? if that wouldn’t be too many things to ask for lol)
I love how you do angst and h/c, so keep up the good work and have a wonderful day <3
can you come get me? | S.R.
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: kidnapping, hospitals, stitches, blood draws, catatonia, disassociation, brief mention of sa, ohio mentioned, general cm violence (let me know if i missed any) word count: 4.56k a/n: i have no idea how this got so long but i love the plot of it so much that i couldn't cut any of it! i'm such a slut for the "you came"/"you called" trope that i couldn't help myself! i wrote this with the idea that it would be in place of the m*eve storyline (which means our lord and savior blake is here)!! anyways anon i hope you enjoy this - i love you!
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Any external sound was completely ignored as Spencer flipped through the same file for the eighteenth time that day. In his periphery, he saw JJ and Rossi nod at each other before Rossi split away, walking up the ramp to where Hotch’s office was.
It took him a moment to realize JJ had made herself comfortable by sitting on the edge of his desk. She had her jacket neatly folded in her arms as she eyed the file he had, grief filling her eyes as she registered what he was looking at. “What are you doing tonight?” She asked, trying to keep her voice as light as possible.
The question was entirely pointless, she knew exactly what he was doing tonight, but in an attempt to get her to leave him alone, Spencer humored her, “I’m working late tonight,” he answered simply.
JJ’s smile faltered ever so slightly before she shook her head, “You’ve been working late all week, what if you come over tonight? Will’s making dinner. Garcia’s coming after she finishes her system update,” the attempt to get him out of the office didn’t go over his head, but it wasn’t going to work. “Henry would love to see you – maybe you could teach him a new magic trick.”
Peeling his eyes off of the paperwork, he looked up at the blonde, “You know I can’t.” He felt so close to an answer, he couldn’t possibly leave.
“Look, Reid, I get it, but you’ve been working crazy hours for the past month. Maybe taking a night off would be good. You can start fresh in the morning,” she tried to coax him into leaving the case be.
It hadn’t been a full month; it had been twenty-seven days. Almost four full weeks since you were taken. It had been one week since Section Chief Cruz had told Hotch that the BAU needed to start taking new cases, as the trail to you had run cold.
Considering you were Hotch’s daughter, that discussion had gone rather poorly. Cruz had been able to give the team leeway. Both Spencer and Hotch had fully intended on taking advantage of that leeway, and the rest of the team helped when they had the capacity.
Turning back to your file, Spencer shook his head, “I’ll go if Hotch goes.” He knew there was no way Hotch would be leaving the office tonight, the only reason Hotch went home anymore was for Jack, and he was at a sleepover tonight.
JJ’s shoulders slumped in abject disappointment as her eyes followed Dave as he exited Hotch’s office, the slamming of the door enough to make the lingering BAU agents flinch. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, defeated.
Rossi wagged a finger at Spencer, “Go home at some point tonight, kid,” he instructed.
Waving a quick goodbye, Spencer resumed making notes in the margins of the papers that were making a permanent home on his desk. He looked up when Hotch exited his office, eyes following him as he brewed a pot of coffee in the kitchenette. The two of them acknowledged each other with a nod before continuing on with the hunt.
Both of them knew the odds, that you had been gone this long and there was a good chance that they’d never see you again. Despite that, Spencer would head up to Hotch’s office in about an hour, and the two of them would confer.
Eventually, the sun set, and a thunderstorm rolled in, the flashes of light coming in through the windows as he began to consider going for another cup of coffee.
Wiping a hand down his face, he inwardly groaned as his phone started to ring. Half expecting it to be JJ, he was surprised to find that it was an unknown caller. Clicking the answer button, he lifted the phone to his ear, “Hello, this is Dr. Reid.”
There was an eerie silence on the other end of the call, if he strained his ears, he could hear the pattering of rain. He tried to greet the other person again, but when there was no answer, he started to lower the phone to hang up.
“Can you come get me?” Your quiet voice came through the receiver, effectively knocking the wind out of Spencer’s lungs.
Fiddling with his belongings, Spencer gripped your file, “Where are you?” He asked urgently.
You sniffled, “I don’t know. A payphone off of twenty-eight.” If he strained his ears, he could listen to the rain. Spencer wondered if he could calculate how far away you were by the sound of the thunder where you were compared to where he was.
His chest ached at the exhaustion in your tone, imagining you had gotten approximately as much sleep as he had recently. That is to say, little to none. Pulling the phone slightly away from his face, he called out for Hotch, getting his attention and waving him over. “Y/N, can you see any mile markers or exit signs anywhere?” Spencer asked, bringing the phone back up to his ear.
“I can’t see much of anything,” you admitted. That made sense, your glasses had been recovered at your abduction scene. Spencer kept them in his bag with the rest of your belongings that had been released from evidence. “I feel lucky enough that I was able to find a pay phone,” you said, and for the first time, he noticed that you were whispering.
Glancing at the inside of his wrist, Spencer checked the time. JJ had mentioned something about Garcia staying in her office for a system update – what were the odds the tech analyst was still there? Stalking out of the bullpen, he made his way to her office, Hotch hot on his heels.
After knocking on the door, her voice rang out, “Enter, mere mortal.” Once she had recognized who it was, she greeted Spencer directly, “Ah, Dr. Reid, did you need a ride to JJ’s?”
“Can you locate a payphone based on the phone number?” He asked hurriedly, the longer you stood out there in the rain, the more danger you might be in.
A confused look was plastered on her face, but she turned back to her screens and started click-clacking away. “Most def, boy genius. Run me the digits,” she responded, pulling up some sort of database that Spencer didn’t recognize – probably for the best.
She typed the phone number just as quickly as he recited it, turning around and telling him that the pay phone in question was approximately thirty minutes away. You had only been thirty minutes away this entire time. “Send the coordinates to Hotch’s phone,” Spencer instructed, stepping toward the door. “Tell the rest of the team to come in,” he continued, “it’s Y/N.”
Each stage of grief flashed across Penelope’s face as she nodded assuredly, scrambling for her phone as she took care of notifications.
Impatiently, Hotch held the elevator door open as Spencer entered, keeping the phone up to his ear, “Stay on the phone,” he told you.
A desperate whimper came from your end of the call, “I don’t have any change. I found a few quarters on the ground, but I don’t have anything on me.”
“Stay on as long as you can, angel,” Spencer amended. “We’re on our way.”
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The rain was worse than he had initially thought, but Mother Nature was no match for Aaron Hotchner. They were only about five minutes from the coordinates that Garcia had shared, and the phone call had dropped off before they were even on the main highway. The dropped call certainly didn’t help the rising tension in the SUV.
“Did she sound scared?” Hotch had asked for the nth time.
Not taking his eyes off of the map, Spencer nodded, ��She sounded like she was stranded in the middle of the woods in Virginia, in a thunderstorm, and was using a pay phone as a lifeline.” His entire body was thrumming with nervous energy as they sped down the road, “but she’s alive.”
He didn’t miss the way Hotch’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel. You being alive would have to be enough of a comfort to the both of them for now, but Spencer knew what your life meant to your father.
“There it is,” Spencer said, interrupting his thoughts with the recognition of a phone booth on the side of the road, in front of a seemingly abandoned gas station. In a moment of uncharacteristic recklessness, Spencer clambered out of the vehicle before it came to a full stop, an umbrella and jacket in tow.
Hesitantly, he approached the crumpled heap of limbs underneath the pay phone. It wasn’t a full booth, it had just enough coverage to prevent the payphone from short-circuiting. You had jammed yourself underneath it, trying to keep yourself as dry as possible.
Kneeling in front of you, he swept his sopping-wet hair from his face, “Y/N.” His voice was no more than a breath, he didn’t dare reach out to touch you — lest you not want to be touched. A strike of lightning lit your surroundings enough for him to note the bruise that had bloomed on your cheek.
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he watched as your lips parted in recognition, “You came,” you whispered.
He nodded, “You called.” His heart soared as you shuffled yourself closer to him, allowing him to wrap the FBI-issued jacket around your rain-soaked frame. “Let’s get you out of this rain, alright?”
Standing up on shaky legs, Spencer helped you walk to the SUV where your dad was waiting, shining a flashlight to help guide you to the vehicle. Based on how heavily you were leaning on him, he could tell that your left leg was injured. Despite your injury, you stepped away from Spencer to hug your father.
For a moment, Spencer felt like he was intruding on a family moment, but he recalled all of the times he had been invited to join in Hotchner festivities these last few years and allowed his eyes to meet Hotch’s.
The two of them shared an understanding look as Hotch pulled away, “We should get you to a hospital,” he said, cupping your face with parental gentleness.
Spencer helped you into the SUV, unable to put any pressure on your leg, you depended on the handles to pull yourself up. As you maneuvered yourself, he tried to determine what your injuries were. His eyes scanned your body until he made his way back to your face, “Angel, keep your eyes open.” He felt as if he was asking a lot of you, but he didn’t know if you had taken a hit to the head. Falling asleep could do more damage. “Hey, Y/N?” He said, watching as your eyes fell shut and your head slumped forward. “Hotch,” Reid said urgently from the backseat.
Understanding perfectly, Hotch hit the lights on the SUV and turned on the siren. Flashes of red and blue signaled to other drivers that there was an emergency.
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You were silent.
As soon as they had gotten you to the emergency room, your entire demeanor had changed. Spencer guessed that you had been in fight or flight when they had picked you up from the phone booth, and now that you were getting the help that you needed, all of the fight had vacated your being.
In the white fluorescence of the hospital, he could see how drained you looked. Once the doctors got their hands on you, you refused to let him or your dad near you.
Hotch was in the hallway, talking on the phone with your Aunt Jessica while he tried to arrange childcare for Jack so he could stay with you - the leader of your care team estimated you’d be in the hospital for at least a few days.
While you had been mobile when they came to get you, your energy had left along with your adrenaline, and eventually, the best course of action was to just let you sleep. That was how Spencer ended up sitting cross-legged in a stiff hospital chair, watching over you as you slept.
Respectful of your wishes, he kept a fair distance from you, but you’d be hard-pressed to convince him to let you out of his sight. There were tubes and wires going every which way from your body, oxygen, an IV, and electrodes monitored your life. Boiling you down to a collection of numbers that showed Spencer just how alive you were.
The doctors suspected you had bacterial pneumonia, but they were still waiting on the results of your chest X-ray to make a formal diagnosis. Your presumed leg injury had turned out to be a bruised hip bone – part of a sickening pattern that reflected that of someone who had been thrown down a flight of stairs.
A knock on the window to your hospital room caught his attention, causing him to turn his head and come face to face with Rossi and Blake. Opening the blinds so that he’d be able to keep an eye on you from the hallway, Spencer stood up and joined his colleagues in the corridor.
“What’s the report?” Rossi asked, nodding in the direction of your room, and placing his hands on his hips.
Spencer rubbed the back of his neck before responding, “The doctor said that all things considered, she’s in good shape, but…” Shaking his head to wake himself up, he crossed his arms in front of his chest, “She’s sick and was beaten. Right now, she’s sleeping. We have no idea she was running in the woods, so it’s not surprising that she’s exhausted.”
He continued on to list other maladies that the doctors had provided, dehydration, malnutrition, one cut on your arm that needed to be stitched, and that was just scratching the surface. Dave nodded understandingly, “but the sooner we get to ask her questions, the better.”
Shrugging, Spencer looked over at your father, and then back to you, “When she wakes up on her own,” he murmured, watching as a nurse checked on your IV. He didn’t want to risk waking you up or asking too much too soon of you. “Can I ask you a quick question?” He lifted a finger inquisitively to the nurse who was walking out of your room, scribbling something on your chart.
The nurse hummed in response, raising her eyebrows as she waited for him to ask.
“Do you think the infection has anything to do with her silence? She might be hurting so she isn’t talking?” He asked, it wasn’t unheard of, when people were in a lot of pain, sometimes they coped with silence.
While the nurse might have an excellent bedside manner, the three profilers took note of the concern in her eyes. “The silence might have more to do with her psychological well-being than her physical well-being,” she responded, it was a healthcare way of trying to appease them. Really, they didn’t know much better than the members of the BAU did.
Blake’s eyebrows shot up in curiosity, “Could it be catatonia?”
“In order to diagnose catatonia, she’d need to display three of twelve symptoms. Those are stupor, catalepsy, waxy flexibility, mutism, negativism, posturing, mannerism, stereotypy, agitation, grimacing, echolalia, and echopraxia. So far, she really only meets one of twelve,” Spencer answered.
Shrugging, the nurse pointed at Spencer with her pen, “What he said.” She looked down at the chart before continuing, “Her care team leader called for a psych consult, but we won’t really know one way or the other until she wakes up.”
Nodding, Rossi nodded in acknowledgment, “What else could it be?”
Pursing her lips, the nurse tilted her head to the side, “Peritraumatic disassociation is another possibility, but again, we won’t know until she wakes up.”
The waiting game began. As luck would have it, an FBI agent being abducted created a lot of paperwork, so Hotch was holed up in a conference room while Rossi and Blake worked on the profile. JJ and Morgan stayed back at Quantico with Garcia to look back at what information Hotch and Spencer had been gathering over the past twenty-seven – now twenty-eight – days.
Spencer stayed with you, tucking your blanket around you when he watched goosebumps sprout along your arms. He paid close attention to everything that the doctors and nurses said about your condition, relaying everything to Hotch via text message. They ran a kit on you, and the only solace was that there was a chance that they could DNA match whoever did this to you.
He left that last part out of his message to your father.
As soon as you started waking up, Spencer had to leave the room, watching from the hallway as medical personnel flurried around your bed. At first, he had assumed your aversion to himself and your dad was an overall aversion to men, but you didn’t flinch when it came to the male doctor who was checking your vitals manually.
A nurse peeked out from the door, “Are you Dave?”
Furrowing his eyebrows, Spencer cocked his head back in confusion, “No? I’m not – why?” He asked, gaze flickering back into your room as you scrawled something on the piece of paper that a nurse had handed you.
“She said she’d talk to Dave,” the inquiring nurse shrugged, turning back into your room, and adjusting your pillow beneath your head.
Still confused, Spencer slipped his phone out of his pocket, nimbly typing a message to Rossi before returning the phone to its home in his slacks. Trying to respect your peace, Spencer remained in the hallway, leaning back against the wall as he heard the familiar sound of Italian leather boots turning the corner. “Are you sure she didn’t mean Aaron?”
Spencer shook his head, mirroring the older man’s confusion, “She physically wrote your name out. She’ll only speak to you,” he answered, trying to hide his own pain for the sake of ridding you of yours. If you wouldn’t talk to your father or himself, it made the most sense that you’d talk to Rossi. You’ve known him the entire time your father worked in the BAU.
Shrugging, Rossi walked into your room and approached you with the care of a man approaching a deer. He remained this way until he made it to your bed, and Spencer watched as he smoothed your hair away from your face affectionately.
You leaned into his touch, and Spencer didn’t miss the cue. When was the last time anyone had touched you with love in their heart?
He had kissed you goodbye before you went on your run, just thirty minutes before your location turned off and your usual Thursday route turned into a hunting ground. With what you did for work, you switched paths frequently, but someone had been watching you, or at least, that was the conclusion the team had drawn.
Watching as Rossi spoke with you, Spencer noticed one anomaly – you weren’t speaking to him. Instead, all of his questions were answered with blinks or scribbling on paper.
The two of you went until a nurse came in, telling the both of you that they needed to run a few more tests. Taking his leave, Rossi told you something that Reid couldn’t quite make out and rejoined him in the hallway.
“What did you say to her? Just now?” Spencer asked, his need for any sort of contact with you becoming so desperate that he’d now accept it secondhand.
Frowning, Rossi placed both of his hands on his hips, “I called her piccolina, I used to call her that all the time when she was just a little thing running around the old BAU bunker.” Taking a moment, Rossi pulled out his little notebook and read through it. “White male, late twenties to early thirties, sometimes gone for days on end citing ‘work,’ but she never figured out what he did for work.”
Spencer’s eyes burned at the realization that you had been working your own case while being victimized, he peered in through the window as a nurse drew your blood.
“She said he drove a dark American sedan, making it either blue or black,” Rossi continued to list off, eyes following Blake as she approached the two of you. “Y/N said the car was filthy like he had been living out of it when he couldn’t get to her in the woods. The car had an Ohio party plate on it with expired tags.”
Blake arched a brow at the new information, “Party plate?” She said quizzically, looking at Spencer for clarification.
Nodding, Spencer looked over at his friend, “That’s the colloquial name for restricted license places. They’re given to people who are convicted of DUIs, which is actually called an OVI in Ohio. In Ohio, they’re yellow with red print, and the only state to have something similar is Minnesota where they call them whiskey plates because they all start with the letter W.”
“Well, he’s confident. Maybe too confident, driving around with expired tags and a license plate that already puts a spotlight on him,” Blake said thoughtfully, adding to the profile in her mind. “We should get this information to Garcia, maybe look for people who recently relocated from Ohio with those plates,” she suggested to Rossi.
Rossi nodded, skillfully flipping the cover back over his notepad and gesturing for Blake to follow him to the conference room, effectively leading Spencer to his own devices. When the nurse left to bring the vials of blood to the lab, he returned to your room, taking his seat on the edge of the room – as far away as he could get while keeping his eyes on you.
He looked up to your bed, catching you staring at him. As soon as you knew you had been caught, you turned your head to the other side, averting your gaze toward the window.
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Every thirty minutes or so, Spencer moved the chair approximately five inches closer to you, by four in the morning, he had closed half of the space between you. He kept his eyes on you, watching as you stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. You had that crease between your eyebrows that told him you were thinking too hard, and he had to sit on his hands to stop himself from reaching out and touching it as if he could soothe all of your bad thoughts.
In the doorway, Rossi had appeared, garnering your attention as you propped yourself up on the flat hospital pillows. “We got him,” Rossi announced to the room, a reserved smile on his face.
Spencer watched as you visibly relaxed on the bed, your face softened as your eyebrows relaxed. Rossi explained some next steps, but he was only half listening, he could only focus on you.
Once Dave was gone, Spencer took a leap of faith and shuffled the chair to your bedside, “How are you feeling, angel?” He asked, taking up a muted tone.
You stared at him, blinking at him until, eventually, your face crumpled, and you leaned toward him.
Not missing a beat, Spencer stood up from his chair so that he could sit on the edge of your bed, meeting you in the middle, he gently wrapped his arms around you, rubbing small, soothing circles along your back with the flat of his hand.
In the past twenty-eight days, Spencer thought that being reunited with you could fix all of the hurt in his chest, but this, right here, was a different kind of pain. Tears sept through the fabric of his shirt just as soon as they fell from your eyes, and all of the hurt that he had felt before just morphed into a different kind of suffering.
His heart ached at the sight of you in this much pain, so much emotional turmoil that you had silenced yourself. What was he supposed to say in order to comfort you? ‘You’re okay,’ was wholly false, and ‘it’s alright’ felt like a cruel joke. You very clearly weren’t okay, and none of this was alright.
“I’m here,” he reassured you, his voice no more than a croak as he tried to swallow his own emotions. “I’m right here,” he repeated, continuing his ministrations on your back until you had cried yourself to sleep.
With your body in its weakened state, Spencer carefully adjusted you onto the bed, making sure none of your tubes or wires were kinked before settling back down in his chair and taking your hand in his.
Around the time the sun came up, your care team came through for morning rounds and woke you up to thoroughly inspect your status. Once they left you to your own devices – with the promise of food in half an hour – Spencer focused all of his attention on trying to coax you into speaking to him.
Tenderly, he dragged a finger across your forehead before continuing down the bridge of your nose, “I’d really like to hear your voice, sweetheart.” His voice was gentle, maintaining a subdued tone in the early hours of the morning.
He watched as you sighed, deflating all of the air in your lungs as you tipped your head to the side, interrupting his movements. “I asked him to do it,” you murmured, voice raspy from lack of use.
“To do what?” Spencer asked, heart beating a little faster at the sound of your voice. He watched how you nervously gripped a fistful of sheets and looked at him. Only you weren’t looking at him, it was more like you were looking through him.
You took a deep, shuddering breath before you answered, “To kill me.”
The confession weighed heavy on his shoulders, but it wasn’t regarding anything against you. It was in the realization that you had been in so much physical and emotional turmoil while in captivity that you had asked for your own death. That even for a moment, you sat in front of a killer and asked for him to end your life as an act of mercy.
Noting Spencer’s lack of response, you continued speaking, “That’s why he let me go. I begged him to just end it and that took away any appeal for him.”
Last night. You had pleaded on behalf of your own demise last night. Carefully considering his next words, Spencer met your eyes and replied, “That must’ve taken a lot of courage.”
You faltered for a moment, evidently not having expected those words from him, “What are you talking about?”
It made sense to him now, why you wouldn’t talk to him or your dad. He felt like such a fool. You had been ashamed because you felt like your abductor had diminished your worth by breaking you down. Spencer knew better, “You stood your ground. You faced your own death, and you chose that over further suffering. Dying isn’t an undignified act, no matter how it comes upon you,” he reminded you, smoothing your hair away from your face as he watched your lip quiver.
“Thank you for staying,” you croaked as emotion closed your throat.
Spencer hummed thoughtfully, swiping a rogue tear from your cheek, “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
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drabbles-mc · 7 months ago
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Lucky For You
Tyler Owens x F!Reader
Warnings: 18+, fluff, mentions of hospitals/injuries, no use of "y/n"
Word Count: 1.4k
A/N: earlier tonight i lied to myself and said i wouldn't work on any new oneshots until i finished a wip. but I've been marinating on this idea since last week and i just had to write it down. just a short cute little fluffy somethin'! my first twisters fic. hope you enjoy!
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You were shaking your head as you walked back over to the side of the picnic table that Tyler was sitting at. You had a beer bottle in one hand, the other resting on Tyler’s shoulder as you stepped in so you could plop back down beside him at the table.
“I’m still trying to figure out what you guys told Lily to say,” you gestured to Lily then Kate with the bottom of your beer bottle before taking a quick sip, “to get Kate to cave so quickly.” You gave Lily a playful smile. “What’d you say to convince her? Hm? ‘Cause lord knows it wasn’t either of these two,” you said as you nodded to Tyler first, then Boone.
Both men looked at you with dramatic looks of offense. “What?” Tyler asked, grin starting to curl his lips as he spoke. “You don’t think we were charming or convincing enough on our own?”
You rolled your eyes as he draped his arm around you. “No, I don’t.”
It got another wave of laughter. Tyler took the momentary distraction as an opportunity to lean in and kiss your temple. “Seemed to work just fine on you.” He reached across and stole your beer bottle from you, taking a sip before allowing you to snatch it back. “And you said yes to a way more dangerous proposition.”
You shook your head even though you were smiling, even though you could feel your cheeks warming. It was no great secret, or even breaking news at this point after the last few years you’d spent married to the ridiculous man sitting on the picnic table bench next to you. Sometimes, though, you couldn’t help the cheesy grin that crossed your face when you became a little more aware than usual of the wedding band on your hand.
“That’s different,” you said, not that it mattered, not that it helped your case at all as Tyler continued to nettle you good-naturedly.
“How’d you two meet, anyway?” Kate asked.
It was a fair question. You didn’t chase with the rest of them, never had. You’d met and fallen in love with Tyler before he decided to make a career out of it. The journey wasn’t always a smooth or easy one, but you never doubted him, or your relationship, not even for a second. Even in the hard times. A lot can happen over the course of six years, but you still clearly remembered when you first met him.
Tyler had started watching you the second he realized where Kate’s question was going. He watched the little twitches and shifts of your hands and facial expressions as you went rapid-fire back down memory lane. When you ended up with a little smirk on your face, he knew that you were all too happy to tell the story.
You took another drink from your beer bottle before just handing it back to Tyler, rather than trying to make him steal it again. “When I met Tyler, I’d say about, oh, seventy percent? Yeah, seventy. About seventy percent of his face was covered in bruises and bumps. Fractured cheekbone, split lip.” You turned and looked at him even though you were talking to Kate. “He was lookin’ real cute.”
She laughed, but you could see the mild confusion in her eyes as she looked back and forth between the two of you. “You find him after a rough chase, or…?”
You smiled and shook your head. “We met back before he was the infamous Tornado Wrangler.” Leaning forward, you braced your arms flat on the picnic table, Tyler’s hand sliding from your shoulder down to the center of your back, his palm warming you through your tank top. “They brought him to the hospital that I work at after he got stomped out by a bull at the rodeo.” You felt his fingers drumming against your back and your smile stretched a little wider. “I wasn’t even supposed to be checkin’ in on anyone in the wing he was in, but the nurse who was supposed to help discharge him had to leave.”
Tyler had a cocky little smirk on his face. “Lucky for you though.”
You gave him a look that didn’t pack nearly as much of a punch as it should of since you were grinning. “Yeah, real lucky for me that Jay’s kid got in a fight at school so he had to leave and he left you to me.”
Tyler laughed. “He was cute but I gotta say, I think you’re a little cuter.”
You gave him a playful shove, which he responded to by looping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer again. You shook his head at him before looking back at Kate. “Anyway, as I was saying. I go into his room to talk through some of the paperwork with him, and with one eye practically swollen shut still this man right here is tryin’ to get my number.”
“Actually, if I remember right—”
“You were concussed into next Tuesday—I doubt you remember much of anything right.”
“If I remember,” he repeated with a laugh, “I was actually tellin’ you that you should just jot my number down from my patient forms so you could call me sometime.”
You looked at Kate with a feigned nonplussed look. “Told me somethin’ about making a ‘house call’. Real bold for a man who was about half an inch away from some serious brain damage.”
“Probably what gave him the confidence to ask in the first place,” Lily piped up with a laugh.
Everyone was laughing, and listening. Kate might’ve been the only one in present company who hadn’t heard the story before, but it wasn’t as though it was something that the two of you were constantly rehashing all the time. The two of you usually kept the retellings amusing enough anyway, allowing the rest of the crew to throw in their two cents even though they hadn’t been there when it all started. After all, Tyler might’ve been the one you met first, and under some pretty dire conditions, but you’d been around to help out the rest of the team plenty of times since then. Whether you were making sure they were all alright after a rough chase, or meeting up with them in the towns that had been blown through to see who you could help even if you weren’t off the clock. You might not have chased with the rest of them, but you were still part of the team.
“How long did it take for him to wear you down, then?” Kate asked.
 The shit-eating grin on Tyler’s face grew tenfold. He lightly bumped his shoulder against yours. “Go ahead. Tell her.”
You dropped your forehead so that it rested on top of your forearms for a moment before looking up and at Kate again. “I gave him my number after I pushed him to the lobby in his wheel chair.”
“Doctor’s orders, by the way,” he interjected with a shake of his head. “I didn’t need it.”
You rolled your eyes but kept going. “He was pretty persistent the whole way down, so I told him if he still remembered my name and number by the time his fractures all healed up, I’d meet him for a cup of coffee or somethin’.”
“Cup of coffee ended up bein’ a split six-pack and a failed bonfire at her cousin’s place, by the way,” he added on with a chuckle.
“Yeah, and your lip still wasn’t fully healed.”
He smirked. “Didn’t stop you though.” You lightly swatted his chest with the back of your hand but you didn’t say anything to refute his statement. “So really, what I’m hearin’, is that you shouldn’t be havin’ any doubts about our charms.”
“Sayin’ yes to a date is nothing like—”
“You also said yes to marryin’ him,” Lily added on, always happy to stir the pot just a little. “Y’know, with the ring that he almost lost in a chase.”
Tyler rolled his eyes. “If I left it at home I was sure she’d find it!”
“Yeah,” Lily laughed as she argued, “and if the chase went wrong somebody on the other end of the county would find it. Then what?”
Tyler laughed and shrugged. “Corner store sells Ring Pops.”
You had no shot at tamping down your smile. “Prob’ly still would’ve said yes, too.”
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(divider by @saradika 💞)
Twisters Taglist (please let me know if you'd like to be added to any of my taglists): @garbinge
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lavenderspence · 8 months ago
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Missing the happy hormone | S.R.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Content warning: emotional reader, period mention, fluff
Word Count: 1.8K
Summary: Apparently Spencer Reid could make anything better - even the emotional disaster of being on your period
A/N: First, huge thank you to the cutie that sent in this request, you literally caught me while on my period so this was born. Also, here’s to my inability to write short fics, this is your only warning that i can make and will make anything long, lol. Also, my titles suck omg. And shoutout to my crazy bestie for making me a Mamma Mia girly, she rocks.
But also, happy one month to this blog! When I carved out this little space for myself a month ago I wasn’t really sure how I’d feel being back here and writing again, but so far it’s been a treat. A huge thank you for all of your support and love and thank you to my mutuals and everyone that interacted with my blog. 💕 Here’s to many more months to come!
Request: spencer x fem!reader on her period/ovulating and shes in tears all the time?? Im ovulating and have been crying for hours and keep calling my mom lmaoo he’d been so lovely and sweet I know it I can feel it in my bones
masterlist
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It was a slow day at the BAU. The most exciting thing in the 6 hours Spencer had spent at work was Rossi’s invitation to dinner the following weekend. 
Paperwork had piled high after their last 2 cases, so every team member was hunched over their desk, writing and revising reports. It was a never-ending cycle - finish a report, close the file, open a new one, and start all over again.
His eyes had started getting tired after four and a half hours, his hand had started cramping and he was down two pens so far, yet there was still a prominent pile on his desk.
He suspected Morgan and Emily might have pushed a file or two from theirs onto his load, seeing as he was getting done the fastest. Regardless, every few hours JJ was bringing even more to pile on top of everything that wasn’t finished, so buried in paperwork they stayed - no matter how fast he wrote or read, or how used to the load he was.
He was just thinking about getting up to prepare a fresh pot of coffee so he could function properly for a few more hours when his phone started ringing. He felt around the pockets of his suit jacket, where it sat draped on his chair, and then pulled it free. 
His display showed an incoming call, a picture of you as he hugged you, hands around your middle and face almost buried into your neck, a soft smile gracing both your faces. A scenery rich with reds, browns, and yellows stood behind you, the beauty of fall was nothing short of spectacular. 
The picture you’d taken last year when the team spent a weekend at Rossi’s cabin in the woods, surrounded by the beauty of landscapes and leaves, nature for miles. 
He accepted the call right away, a small smile on his face. 
“Hey sweetheart.” His voice was gentle, if a little raspy from misuse. He hadn’t talked much in the last few hours - just a distracted short answer here or a hum there. He was happy you were calling, though, welcoming the reprieve from the most recent report. 
It was silent for a few seconds, and he wondered absentmindedly if maybe you hadn’t called him on accident, and then there came a tiny little sniffle from your side. 
“Sweetheart?” He prompted, “Are you there? What’s going on?” Worry was starting to creep into the base of his spine, but he still remained calm and kept his voice gentle. 
“I’m here. Hi.” Another small sniffle, “All’s good. Just…I was just wondering how much longer you’d be gone.” Your voice was small,like you thought you might upset him by asking, and a little crackly, like you yourself were upset about something. 
His eyebrows furrowed, and he checked the time quickly - 3:57 pm. 
“Probably about two more hours, there’s a lot of paperwork we need to go through.” His eyes met Emily’s as she sent him a curious, questioning look. 
“Oh, okay.” The resignation was clear in your voice, “I’ll see you later then.” The call ended abruptly, and it took him a second to catch up.
He couldn’t help but feel like not everything was as good as you claimed it was. For one, you rarely called to ask when he’d be home - you knew his work could span into the late hours, or even stretch for days. You let him update you on any changes in his work schedule. 
In your interactions, your voice was usually upbeat and teasing - especially on the phone. Your kindness was always evident in your voice, as was your mood. You were a sunshine person, if he ever met one, that’s probably why you and Penelope formed such a close bond upon meeting. 
There was something that nagged him - a change in your mood he could pick up on just by your voice - too low, too small, and the cracks that he could now identify as he replayed your conversation in his head. You were keeping yourself from crying out, and yet there was nothing more apparent than the tears in your voice. And that made him worry. 
“Reid, are you okay?” Emily’s voice snapped him from the hard stare he’d been giving his phone in the last several minutes since the call ended. 
“I…I don’t know.” His eye twitched, and he cleared his throat before he tried and failed to articulate exactly what was happening - he himself had a hard time understanding. One thing he knew was that he needed to get home. “I..um, I need to go. Can you, please?” He asked, gusting at the remaining three files on his desk before he pulled his suit jacket on and grabbed his satchel. 
Morgan and Emily shared a mildly concerned look before they both nodded their heads, “Yeah, go. Text to let us know if everything is okay.” Morgan reminded him before he exited the bullpen with a fast step and tried to keep calm.
He was aware the situation wasn’t anything that he needed to be incredibly worried over - if something was really wrong, he knew you would have let him know. Yet, he couldn’t help the way his heart constricted by the sound of your voice, or the overwhelming desire to come home and gently hold you, see what could have caused this behavior. 
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You were curled up on the couch, watching as Donna helped Sophie get ready for her wedding, the gentle melody of “Slipping through my fingers” filling the empty apartment. Your eyes were watering, to the point that everything was starting to get blurry. A shaky exhale left your lips.
Today has simply been a rollercoaster. Kissing Spencer goodbye this morning was the highlight of the day. What followed was nothing short of an emotional disaster. 
You’d teared up during breakfast, images of picking berries with Spencer flying through your mind. The desire to make it a reality was strong. 
Following that had come the overwhelming urge to bawl your eyes out, for no apparent reason whatsoever. Just cry and cry until you had it all emptied out and you could take a deep breath and continue with your day. So, cry you did, and then you’d finished with your chores for the day. 
Apparently letting it all out and emptying your tear supply hadn’t happened. Seeing as around 3:30 you’d started missing your boyfriend so much, the need to hear his voice had won out, so you’d called him. You felt the need to have him home to hold you because this month’s visit from mother flow was making you feel like a crybaby.
But then there was disappointment at the notion that you needed to wait close to 3 hours before that could happen. So you quickly ended the call before he could pick up on the tone of your voice, and then you shed a few tears. 
Now here you were, rewatching Mamma Mia because you really needed a pick me up, and once again, eyes shining as the tears started falling. At this point, it was a losing battle, so you let them fall, humming to the song with a broken voice. 
That’s exactly how Spencer found you, not a minute later. His keys were in his hand, the satchel on his shoulder, and he was just a little bit out of breath. 
The moment his eyes met you, they softened as he dropped everything and sat down next to you. His hand reached up and he cradled the side of your face, wiping your tears away. 
“Hey, sweetheart. What’s wrong?” He asked in a whisper.
“Look at Donna painting Sophie’s nails, it’s...” You hiccuped, another wave of tears washing over you. “And you’re home, why are you home?” Your question was met with a furrow in his brow, as his thumbs continued wiping underneath your eyes. 
“You called.” He answered simply. 
“But you said-” He stopped you before you could finish your sentence.
“I did, yes. But you sounded off and sad, so. Want to tell me what’s going on?” He prompted you gently as he pushed your hair back and pulled you into his lap after, feeling like you needed the physical contact. 
You weren’t ashamed to admit it, per se, but you were ashamed that your hormones had caused him to leave work and race home to be with you. 
“It’s my period,” you mumbled, hands wrapping around his neck as you hid your face in his chest, too tired to prevent your eyes from watering again. “It’s been going on all day. Randomly, I’d just get so emotional, and the tears would start. I was missing you so much too, and then hearing the song, bam, tears again. I’m so done with this Spence.” You sounded barely coherent, with your face pushed as close to him as possible. 
It all made sense now, you’d been cranky a few days ago, and then you’d told him last night your cramps were unbearable, so he knew you were on your period, but right now he felt like an idiot for not figuring it out himself. 
“It’s okay, everything is fine. The drop in estrogen and progesterone, following your ovulation triggered this. This in turn reduced the production of serotonin, your happy hormone. So, we just need to boost it a bit.” He whispered into your ear as you played with the hairs at the nape of his neck. 
“How?” You sighed into his chest, almost being able to pick up on the sound of his heartbeat.
He got deep in thought for a few seconds as you breathed in his scent, and a sense of calmness slowly overtook you now that he was home and holding you. One of his hands was running soothing circles on your back as the other held your hand, fingers interlocked. 
“How about we take a trip to the store and get you some snacks? We’ll pick up dinner on the way home and then I'll hold you some more and you'll pick a movie for us to watch.” He suggested, kissing the crown of your head once, twice, and many more times until you gave him an answer. 
“Yeah, yeah, I think that would help, but just having you here has done wonders.” You finally laid your head against his chest, looking up to meet his eyes. He smiled, and so did you. Having him here really had helped immensely, and when had it not? He was your other half, your rock, and even when your emotions ran rampant or you were feeling down, just his presence, his touch, and his understanding were enough to make it all okay. 
Later in the evening, Penelope sent you a photo of Sergio sleep-hugging a little plushy you’d gotten him, and the waterworks started all over again. Luckily, Spencer was there, wiping your tears and kissing your head, saying a thousand things without actually speaking a word.
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Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
Requests are open for both Spencer and Hotch if you want to send any!
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joaniscruzing · 3 months ago
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reuniting with jinx <3
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everyone... that was quite the rollercoaster. but, i choose to believe that jinx is alive. i'm not ready to let go of arcane for a good while, and I'll do my best to upload fics more often, especially with the holiday breaks coming up too, so reel in whatever arcane requests you have! i write for vi, caitlyn, and jinx. i do take smut requests for these characters too if you guys would like to request some...
obviously though, jinx wouldn't leave without finding her amazing gf though... right??
summary: jinx surprises you while you're grieving, and you both escape and go elsewhere.
warnings: angst at the beginning, season 2 act 3 spoilers, kissing, emotional, lots and lots of fluff, I PROMISED A HAPPY ENDING AND DELIVERED
you couldn't believe it. your whole body crumbled to the ground as vi told you the devastating news.
"I'll tell you one thing," vi tried to quip, a small smile on her face, "she went out with a bang."
vi explained that she heard an explosion sound when jinx fell down the vent, and how she guessed she had set off one more bomb. you take vi close to you, hugging her tightly.
"she really did love you, you know." vi admitted, "i think she's just had a lot come her way. and i can't say I'm the most innocent in that realm myself."
you left vi to continue staring at the fireplace, about to leave and go to jinx's workshop, hoping to take a few things to remember her by. you see caitlyn looking at the vent diagram, studying it closely. how could she possibly studying the place where your beloved girlfriend died? you knew that caitlyn had grown to not hate jinx anymore, so you decided to just leave it at that.
after leaving the kiramann mansion, you traversed back to zaun, thoughts racing through your head. had you not done enough? loved her enough? given her a reason to live? you wanted to scream as loudly as you could, and let whatever you were feeling out.
you finally made it to where jinx had her things, and you took a deep breath before entering. this was it.
the once lit-up place was darker and worn-out in her eyes. the once neon, bright-colored place seemed to be dark and empty now. like you without jinx. a tear rolled down your face as you picked up small tools and things, even parts of a flower she was making for you out of scraps. you sat on the floor, looking up at the ceiling, trying to make sense in your head of what you should do next.
"did you really think i was gone, hun?" jinx questions, right behind you. your entire body leaps at the sound of her voice. it can't be.
"jinx?" you ask, shooting your head up and turning around.
"did you really think i was gonna die that easily? now stop moping. we have to get on the hot air balloon."
shocked, you hug jinx quickly before shoving one thing you collected in your pocket. you both start running. hand in hand, you make a beeline in order to get on the next hot air balloon.
"you know what i realized? things aren't so great here, so why don't i just go somewhere else to do my thing? but, i knew i couldn't leave without you." jinx explains while running.
"how did you even get out?" is the only thing you manage to say.
"my shimmer, silly! i got the hell out and escaped through the air vents."
"and how did you get back to zaun?"
"simple hacking and tweaking of the hexgates. nothing special."
you both finally make it onto the airship, jinx holding your hand as you get on so you don't fall. she closes the door behind you.
"so. this is it. any last wishes before we leave forever?"
"my biggest one has been granted," you answer before pulling in jinx for a sweet kiss. you had missed her, as you hadn't seen her for a week or two with everything going on. jinx pulls away, explaining that you two had to go.
"you know, i've always wanted to drive one of these," jinx admits, steering the ship, "i have since i was very young." you notice a new sense of peace in her eyes as she drives the ship. she doesn't seem so... tortured anymore. in fact, she seems free of any past issues.
her newly cut hair blows in the wind, as you go up behind her and hug her waist, your head resting on her shoulder. no matter what the future held, you knew you were going to be happy. as long as jinx was there, you would be at peace.
"i love you," jinx says softly, taking one hand off the wheel to rest on top of yours.
"i love you too."
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mobbu-min · 2 years ago
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☆ marry you ☆
(ft. the housewardens)
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It's a beautiful night, we're looking for something dumb to do. Who cares, baby, I think I wanna marry you.
In which, he overhears how much you want to marry him.
a/n: despite all the requests i have, i find myself writing more indulgent fics -sigh-
tw: cursing
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Riddle Rosehearts <3
⋆ Oh dear, poor Riddle is beyond flustered. Hearing you so openly say how much you want to marry him and spend the rest of your waking moments with him makes his heart flutter and pound. Cheeks dusted a bright red and eyes dazed with a lovesick glimmer.
⋆ Riddle is beyond happy, yet incredibly nervous.
⋆ Marriage had been a thought that came to him occasionally. Seeing you in such a beautiful attire staring at him lovingly and saying you do. Wearing a ring he worked so so hard for. Kissing you lips to seal the deal, is something he would love to see.
⋆ Perhaps after he successfully gets his degree and starts his profession, he’ll indulge you. Get you the ring of your dreams and kneel in front of you in a garden of roses. Staring lovingly into your shocked gaze. A wonderful thought, no?
“My rose, although we are still young and still have much to do, I want you to know, in my heart and if life will allow it, my plan has involved you since the beginning. Ahem, in other words, please be patient, my dear.”
Leona Kingscholar <3
⋆ I feel like I say this all the time, but he’s a smug bastard!
⋆ Look, Leona has never thought about marriage, not that he’s like ‘ew, barf, marriage’ more like it's just not something that is incredibly pressing in his life. He remembers Farena and his wife’s proposal and wedding, and of course the countless of royal/nobel weddings he was forced to attend, but other than that, marriage was never a thought that crossed his mind.
⋆ However, when he began to go out with you, it had come across his mind once or twice. Especially on those days where the world seemed particularly against him and you wordlessly handed him food you lovingly prepared and fed him with his head on your lap. Or that one time, you asked him to teach you chess only for you to continuously fail and claim you’ll get better soon and the next week you came back with a smug look on your face and claim you’ve had help from the Chess Gods (riddle and youtube), only to get your ass beat again. Did that dissuade you? No, because you're persistent. Or the one time Leona had actually attended class and was bored as hell, only for you to tap on the window(successfully startling him) and telling him to meet you in five minutes at the botanical gardens. And the moment he arrived, you surprised him again with a cute little picnic and chess.
⋆ There, of course, were millions and millions of other reasons, but regardless, Leona wouldn’t mind marrying you.
⋆ And with enough persistence, he might just pop up the question sooner or later.
⋆ Too many things have slipped between his grasp, and he isn’t going to let you do the same.
“If you wanted me so badly, you could’ve just said so, herbivore. Ha, why so flustered? Cat’s got your tongue? Hm, c’mere…-yawn-…here, let’s get married.”
Azul Ashengrotto <3
⋆ Runs to his office to bring up his 10 year plan to change marriage from year 6 all the way down to year 2.
⋆ Like this man has already booked everything you could possibly want for your wedding. Clothing, flowers, venue and food, music and guests. Hell even, the cleaners are all booked and ready. He’s been planning it since your third date.
⋆ Call him hopeful, or delusional, or just plain stubborn, but Azul is dead set on having you as his spouse.
⋆ Azul is over the moon, everyone can see his change in demeanor. So much softer, a lot more lenient and a little more eager to spend his time with you. This change is welcomed by everyone, especially the twins since they see Azul’s change as a new tool to get what they want and tease him even more.
⋆ Azul loves you, so much that it hurts. So knowing that you want him just as badly as he wants you, makes him swoon.
⋆ Lowkey immediately called his mom that he got engaged (even though he hasn’t yet). Literally kicking his feet back and forth as he talks about you. Pure adoration slipping off his tongue, sweet like honey.
⋆ And you better get ready, Azul is making his proposal as romantic and mind blowing as he can. An event neither of you can ever forget.
“Love seeing you today, my sea angel. My, did you do your hair? New clothes? Oh, I see you’re wearing the earrings I got you, how lovely. -ahem- Forgive for getting off track- hm? W-why am I so red? Ha…no-no, I’m not sick, sea angel. I simply have big news to tell you.”
Kalim Al Asim <3
⋆ The only thing stopping him from proposing outright is that he doesn’t have the ring he has under his pillow for you!
⋆ Oh and ofc, jamil’s there. (silently cursing you out and congratulating you simultaneously)
⋆ He wastes no time proposing outright. With the help of Jamil, he manages to plan an ideal and romantic time and place to declare his undying love for you. A lovely, fulfilling meal made by Jamil in the candlelit dining room of Scarabia followed by a stunning flight through the night clouds with the moon’s soft gazing gliding over you. And at the oasis, next to the bushes of blooming desert flowers and the warm caresses of the heat, does he pop the question!
⋆ Kalim literally cannot thank the world enough for bringing you into his life. You’re his everything! He swears his heart beats for you and only you. That his life never truly began until you smiled so brightly in his direction. His ruby eyes struck with a shameless lovestruck gaze.
⋆ Kalim truly has never been happier than with you. And knowing, he’s able to keep his happiness and ensure yours is everything he could ever dream of.
“Marry me! … Huh? Why are you hiding? ..oh! Haha, I can’t help it! I’ve wanted to marry you since the day we met! I know you're the one for me! …hehe, I hope I’m the one for you!”
Vil Schoenhiet <3
⋆ How bold of you. Already demanding a proposal from the Vil Schoenheit. Goodness, have you never been taught any patience? Very well, let's see what he can do.
⋆ Vil already has a pinterest board of your future ready to go. Everything ready from the smallest detail. Similar to Azul, nothing will ruin his perfect day.
⋆ Of course, Vil has thought about marrying you. Though not until much later in life, he wants to pursue his career more and the thought of leaving you alone for many nights, leaves him with an ill feeling in his stomach. Surely, you’d understand the pressure of being a high demand actor/model these days, right?
⋆ Either way, Vil’s stuck with the idea for days. Often dozing off to the thought of you holding a bouquet of carefully put together flowers standing near an open window basking in the sunlight. Your hair is put up with a simple flower decorating your ear. A smile stretched ear to ear as you beckoned him near. Fixing his suit and kissing his cheeks, giggling sweetly and whispering as if you were both a lovestruck teen couple sneaking out at night.
⋆ Then he thinks of coming home after a day of interviews, coming through the door of his shared penthouse. Seeing you setting dinner up, a domestic sight to behold. The beautiful amethyst ring that adorns your ring finger glinting in the warm lighting. Kissing his lips and helping him sit down in his seat, carefully undoing his hair and massaging his scalp. He’ll hear you talk about your day, about the cat you saw, about the traffic you encountered on the way back from work and the cute kid you helped at the park.
⋆ That thought sounds so appealing, like an apple, red and ripe, beckoning for him to bite.
⋆ Eventually, it gets too much. His heart pounds and yearns to see you wearing the ring from his dreams, the ring he’s already contacted the most experienced jewelry maker in the world to make.
⋆ He’s like a ticking time bomb, simply waiting for a chance to prove his love to his dearest star.
“I’ve never believed in fairy tales, I’ll have you know. After constantly staring in productions of famous tales, the amazement and wonder of them has faded away. That’s not to say that I no longer love them, I just realized that I’ve been living that fairytale life I’ve read so much about with you… Don’t laugh! …heh, I suppose it is quite amusing, huh? My star, will you make my fairytale come true?”
Idia Shroud <3
⋆ Literally crashes!!! Stops working and Ortho, my sweet baby, has to haul his lanky ass to the infirmary. Like, he acts like he got shot at, then electrocuted then told to go take out the trash.
⋆ On a more personal level though, Idia is actually really apprehensive to marriage. He’s seen how cold his parents are to each other. The silent dinners, the cold stares, the heartlessness of their touch. Nothing about his parents screamed a loving and healthy relationship. Perhaps when he was younger, more hopeful, did he dream of a day where he would whisk his one true love away and live happily ever after with them and his brother.
⋆ To him, marriage is scary. Like scarier than public speaking, or an ultra mega level boss that he’s severely under prepared for! (ahem-malleus-ahem)
⋆ But that was ages ago, and that dream had long since died. Accepting that he’s destined for a life of solitude. Rejecting all human feelings for a way to protect himself, his heart, from both harm and harming.
⋆ However, Idia finds out that he can’t. Despite him feeling less than human most days, he feels the most human when he’s with you. And as much as he hated it at first, he can’t deny that he loves the way his cheeks flare and heart dances at the sight of you.
⋆ And all of his favorite shoujo anime always guaranteed a happy ending for the main couple. And let's be honest, you’re obviously the main character and Idia's more than happy being your love interest.
⋆ Marriage, although scary and frightening, doesn’t sound that bad if you’re the one he’s giving his life too. Sharing a life with you is more than what Idia thinks he deserves.
⋆ But a life with you is a life worth living.
“Huh? What is it? It’s a w-wedding v-venue, ofc! I t-thought w-we could p-practice, y’know?….You like it! How long did it take? …oh, well Ortho helped me a bunch getting it ready…Oh! Before we start, we need to wait for Ortho to log into Minecraft. He wanted to be the flower girl.”
Malleus Draconia <3
⋆ Babe, he’s been waiting for this!
⋆ Malleus has loved you since the moment you locked eyes. His heart was forever bound to you the moment you told him your name. Souls intertwined when you held him to your warmth. Fingers threading against his hair, and voice turned into a mere whisper as you proclaimed your love for him.
⋆ Malleus has loved you since the beginning and never once doubted it. Never once shied away from the thought of giving you his life. Malleus adores you and wishes for nothing more than to wake up every morning knowing you are his and he is yours.
⋆ A hopeless romantic, Malleus jumbles from proposing right then and there or giving you a night to remember. Ultimately going for the latter.
⋆ Similar to Kalim, he treats you to dinner then a stroll through a moonlit garden. Fireflies dancing around you both, humming and singing as they recognize the adoration and love swirling through the night air. Leading you to a clearing, he’ll dance with you. Twirling you around to the melody of his deep, soothing humming. Hauntingly enchanting. Bringing you into a sense of security.
⋆ His large hands caressing every part of your body. Pools of bright emerald gazing oh so lovingly at you. How he wishes he could immortalize this moment. In his mind, he works fast to paint down your sweet, endearing, expression to his memory. Each stroke of his mind crafting you so lovingly, never wanting this precious moment to end.
⋆ And of course, everything comes to an end. A sweet end for the night. One filled with joyous tears and hopeful laughter. A bright future ahead of you both.
⋆ A future Malleus is willing to fight for to ensure.
“This color will suit you perfectly, darling. Such a beautiful design for such a beautiful soul, no? Don’t shy away from me…See, such a pretty expression. Please, allow me to bask in every expression you’ll ever make, my treasure.”
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tobifuyu · 2 years ago
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New hair, who dis?
Ran Haitani x f!reader
After years of friendship, Ran is growing and maturing right in front of your eyes but you cannot bring yourself to accept what change brings about.
cw: nsfw, mdni, basically porn with plot, friends to lovers, reader is oblivious, ran is a simp, rindou is so done, masturbation, mirror sex, use of sex toys, hair kink ig, lots of pet names.
wc: 9,7k
a/n: gosh this is way too long I’m so sorry I just have too many ideas and once I start writing I cannot stop myself. many more fics to come, I have a long list of fantasies to satisfy. also, we stan simp ran in this house.
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One thing you were not expecting when opening the door of your apartment that evening was for Ran to walk in looking like a completely different person.
You wouldn’t even have recognized him if it weren’t for his purple eyes staring down at you with their ever-present mischievous glint.
Lately, his lanky body has been filling out the new suits he’s wearing in a delicious way, and the time he’s been putting in at the gym, even if reluctantly, is visibly paying off.
You notice he has removed the transparent plaster from the fresh tattoo on his neck, black ink a stark contrast against his pale skin.
There’s something else missing, and the sight is so unsettling that for a moment you think about closing the door on his face.
Who is this man staring back at you? If this is Ran, why are his infamous braids gone?
“Ran, what the fuck?”
“I can explain!” He puts his hands up, gesturing at you to let him come in, and you move out of his way automatically as you take him in from different angles.
The door gets closed behind your back and Ran wraps your wrist in one of his big hands to steer you to your couch in the center of the living room. You’re both silent as you sit down, your eyes fixed on the damage.
“I cut my hair.”
“I can fucking see that!” The smug grin that was stretching his pretty lips slowly fades at the agitation in your voice. The thing is that you don’t understand why you feel so distraught.
It shouldn’t matter, right? It’s not like he went and cut your own hair behind your back. Yeah, he could’ve let you know about such an important decision in his life as he does with pretty much everything else. He could’ve maybe even asked for your opinion. But he didn’t have to.
You and Ran have been friends for years, more than a decade, and you have seen him cut and style his hair multiple times in the past. Just because you are particularly infatuated with the way his two-toned braids swung around while fighting, or how he would twirl them with his baton and long fingers, and how it looked untied, forming a messily shaped halo behind his head while resting on the pillow during one of your many cuddling sessions… doesn’t mean he had to ask for your permission.
It’s not like he knows how much you love to brush his soft locks before twisting them back into the braids that come hunting you on your dream-filled nights. Because you’ve never told him. So it’s not his fault if all these things don’t matter to him.
“You don’t like ‘em?” He coughs to hide the embarrassment he feels after asking such a vulnerable question. Ran has never really cared about what other people think of him, except for maybe Rindou, sometimes. But you’re an exception.
He knows he’s far from ugly and he thought he looked real good with the new haircut. He was excited to match with his little brother once again, and he thought you would also, considering how well you reacted a couple of weeks ago when Rin showed you the light purple color he got done at the saloon.
Maybe, just maybe, you like Rin a bit better? No, he thinks, it can’t be possible. He would’ve noticed something like that.
Then why are you acting so… mad? Or is it hurt he sees painted across your pretty face?
You let out a sigh, “No, it looks good. I overreacted, I’m sorry. I just– I wasn’t expecting you to cut your hair, that’s all.”
He scoffs, as if he doesn’t believe your words, and pulls one of your hands up to his hair. He wants to convince you that not much has changed, and you’ll still get to play with it while watching movies, he thinks it’s soft enough with the treatment he has done, “See, it’s still pretty long, just pushed back. Maybe you can braid it sometimes.”
You laugh at that and Ran smiles at you. You meet his soft gaze before daring another glimpse at his new haircut. It’s styled in such a way that accentuates his sharp facial structure, jawline visible in all its glory.
“You look…” Hot. Fuck. You shake your head, trying to reign yourself in as you stroke the soft hair, “It looks good, more mature. It’s fluffier than I thought, Rannie.”
The more you look at him the more you realize that this new look of his is toying with your already decaying sanity.
Pull yourself together, for fuck’s sake.
Ran lets it go after that, props you to get settled on the couch, and removes his suit jacket before grabbing some drinks and snacks to watch a movie.
An hour in, he lays his head on your chest. It’s routine, he’s always been clingy with you, in private. And you’ve always enjoyed the closeness, no matter how confusing it might be, so you never question him.
Your hands subconsciously bury themselves between his lilac locks. You can hear him let out a deep sigh as you scratch his scalp, relaxing into your hold.
“Looks good, Ran. I like it a lot,” You whisper as if to reassure him, whilst you’re only stopping yourself from confessing that you would like him even if he were bald. Your gentle motions make him fall asleep with his lips curled in a smile.
My sleepy boy, you think.
That night you wake up in a cold sweat. The blond tresses that you constantly dream of softly stroking have been subsided by messy lilac locks. The short length is being gripped by your hands as its owner's head peaks from between your thighs. Unfortunately, it’s not very the first time you dream of Ran in such a compromising position. But the matching lavender gaze staring at you with purpose is now fresh in your memory, and makes his haircut seem even more attractive, the perfect length to shove him back against your heat.
Your cheeks redden as you try to shake the feeling away, you get rid of the covers and turn on your side ready for sleep to take over once again, but his new and improved look keeps hunting you at every toss and turn.
You reach into your bedside table for the only thing that can bring you peace of mind: your trusty vibrator. It’s a small bullet one, but it does its job just fine when you press it against your clit to release the pent-up stress of the day. You think nothing of it when the face that appears behind your closed eyelids as you come is that of your bestfriend.
The next couple of weeks, it doesn’t escape Ran the fact that you’re looking at him a little weird. At first, he thinks you might still be trying to get used to his new look. It was definitely a drastic change, and for you who have known him for such a long time, to be faced with it without him even giving you any heads up must’ve been weird. So he hopes that the gift he has planned to give you, will be enough to make it up to his bestfriend, to show how much he cares about your friendship and your opinions, even if he didn’t ask for it this time.
Then he starts panicking because you stop picking up his phone calls. You don’t make plans to hang out with him anymore, just shoot a text from time to time to let him know that you’re okay but busy. He’d like to believe you, but you’ve always made time for him before. You’re avoiding him.
He doesn’t know that you cannot bring yourself to face him anymore. You had managed to suppress the feelings you harbor for him for years, but seeing him in another light, with his childish braids replaced by a more mature and undoubtedly attractive look, has been the hardest challenge for you.
You feel ashamed by the number of times his face has been appearing in your mind at the most inconvenient times. You feel too dirty to look him in the eyes and pretend like you don’t dream of them at night.
Ran has reached a level of desperation where he has to involve his brother before he loses his cool over something that, he thinks rationally, shouldn’t even bother him that much. The two of you are just friends, you don’t owe him your time.
Luckily, you pick up Rindou’s call on his first try, you haven’t heard from him in a while, so it only makes sense that you do, might be something important. What if something has happened to Ran?
Rin doesn’t want anything to do with this mess, but he can’t bear to stress over the safety of his brother anymore as he comes to their meetings looking tired and miserable as hell. Bonten is just starting out, and they’re dealing with some heavy shit now, his brother needs to fucking focus.
So he invites you over for some drinks. Explains how it’s just a small get-together they’re throwing to celebrate a new deal, only some of the guys will attend. And when you ask about Ran, he rolls his eyes but replies that his brother is not gonna be there. Which is a lie, a big fat lie that is gonna turn into a headache for him soon enough. He knows that already.
You show up just because you’ve been holed up in your apartment for the past week. Work has been… well, work. And your friend group is pretty much the same as Ran’s, so you couldn’t risk him getting word of you being out and about after you’ve turned down all his invitations. You’re joining tonight because Ran hasn’t tried to contact you in a few days, and Rin has promised his brother is gonna be held back at work. Getting a few drinks with your old friends is the perfect way to destress.
You don’t make it that far, though, because the moment you walk in Ran is already there. Mingling about and walking like he owns the place, which he does. You turn to Rindou, who’s conveniently opened the door for you and is now planning to make a run for it, and you look at him as if you’re ready to tear his head off. He must’ve known what’s going on, there’s no other way for him to be so sneaky about this. He sends an apologetic look your way before scrambling away to Sanzu, who’s waiting for him in the dark of the corridor leading to the rooms.
Ran stutters over to you the moment his eyes lay on your fidgeting figure. He’s wearing a pair of dress pants and a shirt that look like they’ve been tailored to fit his lanky body in such a way that makes it hard for you to breathe. His short hair is parted and gelled back, a few pieces falling off the hairstyle and resting effortlessly on his forehead.
“Hey pretty, you’ve made it.”
“Looks like it,” you shrug your shoulders, looking around awkwardly as he ushers you into the middle of the living room. You should’ve known the brothers would’ve stuck together. Fuck you, Rindou.
“D’you want something to drink?” He sits beside you, and the scene reminds you so much of when he last came over to your apartment, except this time you’re surrounded by a handful of people. Gotta make sure you’re on your best behavior, so you turn down the drink.
“C’mon, work has been stealing you from me for weeks now, y’need to let go a little.” He can sense you’re tense, and maybe alcohol isn’t the best choice in this situation, but he doesn’t know how else to let you at least look at him. He feels a pang in his chest. Why won’t you even look at him?
“I’m okay, thanks.” You’re acting so cold and distant. He’s starting to wonder if all of this really has happened over him simply cutting his hair, or if there’s something deeper beneath it. Did you feel betrayed by him not telling you?
“I think I’m just gonna go home, I’m pretty beat actually,” you start to say, and Ran doesn’t want to force you, but he doesn’t want you to go either. “Please, just some more time to catch up. Rin wanted to see you as well,” as he says this he looks around the room and curses his brother for leaving with Sanzu.
Ran’s ass gets saved by Kakucho tapping on your shoulder before he wraps an arm around both of them as you turn to greet him. You’re smiling again, just how Ran likes to see you, but the pit of his stomach is burning with something akin to jealousy.
He’s relieved that Kakucho stopped you from upping and leaving, but he doesn’t like how you get up and join him at the counter to get him another round. Seems like you’re not drinking still, means you don’t plan on sticking around.
Ran is bummed out, he stops staring at you and Kakucho after some others join in on the conversation. He doesn’t want you to mingle with these people too much (most of them have something to do with Bonten, after all), but he’s the one who strategized all of this in the first place, so he lets you enjoy yourself. He’d rather stop pushing you before he makes it worse.
In the meantime, you’re watching a pouting Ran sit on the couch from the corner of your eye. Kakucho snickers as he notices, and you swat him away when he suggests you go sit back down with “your Ran”.
“He’s been a mess these past few weeks, I think he misses you. A lot,” Kakucho has never been anything but kind and truthful to you, that’s why you enjoy his presence so much. He’s a breath of fresh air around the much violence this friend group has experienced growing up. He’s one of those who has suffered the most but he always has a nice word to spare. Such a pure heart, his.
Your eyes wander back to where your heart is, but what you see makes your face turn into a grimace. A pretty girl you’ve known for a while, someone’s girlfriend you recall, has sat down in your spot and is now talking to Ran. They seem to be sharing a laugh as she reaches over to stroke Ran’s hair out of his face, before gesturing at it as if complimenting the new hairstyle.
The interaction is short-lived and friendly, you know her for being nothing but nice, but you feel like shit now.
You don’t like the feeling of jealousy, especially when it’s not even excused. You just don’t like when people touch Ran’s hair, and you do even less now that it has become such a touchy subject for you. He let her, that’s the problem.
“Yeah, I bet he missed me alright,” you mumble bitterly as you excuse yourself from Kakucho.
It doesn’t take you long to stand in front of Ran and stare down at him with cold eyes, “‘m leaving. Have a goodnight,” You direct the last bit to the girl, hoping she doesn’t think you’re remotely even mad at her. Then, you leave the apartment in such a rush that you don’t hear Ran calling for you. You feel like you’re underwater and the first real breath of air you take is back at your flat.
All you had time to do, before hearing the furious knocks banging on your door, is take off your makeup and wear your pajamas. Maybe, just maybe, if they had started shaking the wood just ten minutes later, you would’ve been sleeping already and not giving enough fucks to get up from your bed.
You open the door, no need to check from the peephole as you already know who it could be at this ludicrous hour.
“We need to talk.”
“No, we don’t, I have work early in the morning,” you try arguing as you go to close the door. He blocks it with his shoe, pushing it open with his right hand as he stares at you with a look he usually reserves for Rindou when he gets pissed off about something important. It’s completely different from the one he has while fighting, he’s not being snarky or overconfident, he looks serious and undeniably mad.
“You’ve been avoiding me. For weeks. ‘Cause I cut my fucking hair.” He slams the door as he steps inside the apartment and you jump from the sudden sound, walking towards you as you slowly back away and fidget with your raised hands. You’re not scared of him, you know he’d never do anything to hurt you. You’re just scared of the confrontation that is about to go down, the fact that you’re gonna have to tell the truth, for once and for all, cause you can’t possibly hold it from him anymore. And just like that, you’re gonna lose Ran.
Ran takes in your panicked state and slows down to approach you carefully, his face softens and he clasps your hands in his bigger ones. With the grip he has on them, he drags you closer to his body. The two of you are standing in the center of the room as silence overtakes it. You can feel his stare burning your skin but you keep your own cast down.
“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” His thumbs are stroking your skin in a calming pattern, “I don’t know what I’ve done, but I never meant to hurt you. I’m sorry.”
You don’t understand what he’s talking about. The one apologizing here should be you! “You did nothing wrong, Ra–“
“Please look at me,” you cast him a glance from under your lashes, but the way he’s staring back is so intimidating that you can’t help but feel your face heat up and you have to divert your eyes elsewhere, “You can’t even look at me.”
“Ran, I swear this has nothing to do with you cutting off your piss-colored hair.”
He knows you well enough not to get offended, your self-defensive mechanism has always been that of getting mean.
Two fingers find their way to your chin to grip it and raise it enough so that your eyes meet once again. You can’t escape him this time.
“Tell me how to fix it, how to fix us.”
His voice is almost a whisper, he sounds so distraught, blaming himself for your stupidity. You can’t take it anymore. You love Ran, the last thing you want is for him to be hurting.
“I’m not mad at you Ran, I’m mad at myself,” His purple eyes widen with surprise, but he remains silent as he lets you explain yourself, “This is gonna sound, real bad but… I couldn’t bring myself to face you these past few weeks. Cause I had a wet dream about you. After you cut your hair…” You’re not telling the whole truth as of yet – there have been multiple dreams – but you need to test the waters first.
“Oh,” Well fuck, you’ve said it now. “Oh, wow.” His hands drop his hold on one of yours and fall from your chin, for a moment you think he’s gonna step back and run away far from you, but then you feel his touch on your waist, moving you even closer than before.
His lips settle on your forehead, stamping a kiss on the skin while you feel his mouth vibrate against it as he shakes with laughter.
This is Ran we’re talking about, ‘course he’s not gonna run away, he’s gonna embarrass you to the ground. In a week's time, everyone in your friend group will probably know about this. Not only is your friendship officially ruined, but you’ll never get to step outside of your flat without feeling like a walking joke ever again, “Are you laughing at me?”
“You got embarrassed?” He places another smooch over the same spot, “So what if I made you wet in a dream? It was my haircut, wasn’t it?”
Ran giggles. The motherfucker thinks he’s funny.
“Is that why you reacted that way back at my place? You got mad someone else was gripping my hair?” His mocking voice makes you flush red, but you know better than to give in to his teasing.
“She barely touched you, please. Like I give a damn,” You roll your eyes, finally getting the courage to stare at his smirking face as you fall back into your comfortable routine of making fun of each other. “I can always grip it myself and show you the difference,” You bark back, watching how the side of his curved lips slightly twitches.
“Go at it, babygirl.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Gosh, you seem to be pretty mad still,” he’s pouting, and you swear you wanna bite his lips so badly right now.
Get a fucking grip, oh my goodness. You haven’t even told him the worst part yet. He doesn’t know you’ve masturbated to him. He doesn’t know you like him way more than a simple friend should.
“Should I find some way to make it up to you?” His words snap you back to reality, but he’s been observing you, lavender hues taking in your scrunched-up face as you think hard over something that is still concealed from him. He wants to kiss your cute cheeks, wants to hear you giggle. You’re his precious girl, he feels this visceral need to let you know just how much he cares.
Ran’s mouth presses against the apple of your cheeks once, twice, trice. He’s leaving kisses all over the bare skin, switching from one side to the other, kissing the top of your nose endearingly.
One of the hands he has gripping your waist slides to the center of your back, over the sleep shirt you’re wearing, trying to stop you from running away from his kiss attack – as if you would – and to keep you comfortably pressed against his embrace.
He can feel you melt against his body. Rosy lips parted to take in deep breaths. Your eyelids are now closed and he doesn’t waste time kissing over them as well. He can feel your skin heating up against his mouth, feverish-like, but he can’t stop himself from dragging his lips lower to peck at your jawline.
The kisses he’s giving you are all kinds of kisses, from short and sweet pecks to loud and cute smooches, to more sensual and wet ones, especially when he reaches the skin of your neck. At this point, you can’t help but raise your hands to his hair and grip the short length of it just like you promised to show him. He lets out what sounds like a moan in the croak of your neck, but you think you must’ve imagined it as you can’t really hear much over the sound of your beating heart, the blood furiously pumping in your ears.
You know you’re enjoying this way too much, and for a moment you start to feel dirty again. He’s showering you with love because you’re his best friend, and your head is turning something so pure into nasty thoughts.
It’s not the first time he has smothered your face in kisses, maybe not to this extent, but you guys haven’t seen each other in weeks, so it only makes sense why he’s reacting to your closeness in such a way.
That’s until he sucks on the soft spot behind your ear and takes the lobe between his teeth to pull the skin. The way his name comes out from your mouth, breathless and whiny, makes him weak in the knees.
He’s gonna turn all your wet dreams into reality. You just need to say the word and he’s gonna give you what you deserve and more.
His nose is now bumping against yours, mouth pressing between the space above your cupid’s bow, the corner of your mouth, the bottom of it. Your lips graze each other every time he moves along. At this point, he has kissed every inch of your face except for the mouth. You know that would be taking it a step too far. The already thin lines of friendship between the two of you would blur to a point of no return.
At least on your part; you know Ran doesn’t shy away from human touch as you do, so it might not carry the same weight for him, you’re nearly sure of it.
You can’t possibly know how wrong you are, because as you’re thinking that, Ran is holding himself back from closing the space between you.
He has been dying to kiss you for years, since the first time you offered to braid his hair for him.
“What did you dream of?” he whispers, gruff voice scratching a part of your brain that you didn’t think existed as his hot breath washes over you, only inches away.
“Uhm, I… I don’t really remember.”
“You’re not a good liar, princess,” his mouth moves closer to your ear, trailing on the soft skin on his way there, as one of his hands grasps the fat of your left thigh and hooks it over his hipbone. “What was I doing that made you wet? Did you touch yourself because of me? Tell me.”
You know that if you could see yourself from the outside right now you’d laugh at how red your face probably is, but there’s nothing to laugh about how firm Ran’s voice is when giving orders. It might’ve sounded like he was teasing you before, but he’s being completely serious now. And you’d never dare disobey Ran when he gets like this.
“I- You were eating me out,” you gulp, your throat lets you heave the words out with difficulty. “It was either that or… some other nights, you’d do more.”
So it’s multiple dreams, different nights. Ran’s grip on you tightens, “Did you touch yourself?” He repeats the question, eyes dark and attentive, as if he’s dying to know. As if he can’t picture it in his head without you guiding him through it. Fuck it, you think.
“I did, used my vibrator-“You can’t even finish your sentence because Ran is grasping your other leg and lifting you up in the air. You circle his neck with your arms and hold on tight in fear of him dropping you, but his strength makes it seem like he’s barely breaking a sweat.
“Fuck, can I kiss you? I’m dying to taste you.”
It takes you some time to elaborate on his desperate plea, but once you do, you consent enthusiastically, “Yeah? Yes!“
The moment your lips meet, it’s like nothing else matters in the world. Ran is kissing you, his lips are moving over yours with expertise. He starts slow and deepens it to the point you have to push him away slightly to regain your breath.
Sometime during the kisses that come after, Ran has you up against the wall. He runs the tip of his tongue over the seam of your mouth, but you don’t open it straight away to pay him back for all his usual teasing. That’s until he presses his hips against yours, and you feel his hardness rubbing on you.
“Oh my god, fuck, Ran.” He takes your surprise as an opportunity to tangle his tongue with yours. You moan in his mouth, and he groans back, parting just enough to let you know what he needs, “I want you so bad, pretty girl.”
You buck into him as if asking for more and bite his lip before letting it go, watching as it falls back into place.
Ran laughs at that, starting a trail of kisses from your puffy lips all the way to your exposed collarbones. He knows you’re not wearing a bra, you don’t sleep in them. The first thing he noticed when he stepped foot inside your apartment tonight is how your nipples were perked up against the cotton of the shirt. He also knows the only thing covering your bottom is a pair of panties. Keeping this in mind, he sends you a look while reaching for the hem of your sleep shirt, as if asking for permission.
You nod and he frees you of it, chunking it somewhere behind his frame. He’s holding you up with his hips alone, navel pressed tightly against yours. That’s so fucking hot.
His hands make a b-line to your breasts, squeezing them to get a feel, and the motion is as pleasurable to you as it is for him, making his cock jump in his pants. You can feel his length twitching and it’s driving you crazy.
“Please-“ Your voice breaks the moment Ran puts you back down, you struggle to keep yourself on your feet and watch as he bends to bite at one of your nipples.
“Oh my god, yes,” he’s twisting the other with his fingers, and regretfully leaves them behind as he moves in a downward path over your body. He’s so close to your heat that he can smell your arousal, and when he casts his eyes toward your mound, he sees the wet patch staining your panties.
“Is this because of me?” a slap on your covered cunt follows his question. He knows already, you’ve made it clear, but he wants to hear you say it.
“Yes, yeah, Ran, baby. It’s all because of you.”
He thinks you must be already pretty out of it, because you’re not usually this straightforward when it comes to sex, in front of him at least. He heard how dirty you can get when talking about it with other friends, so he’s happy he’s found the key to open you up to him, literally.
It’s after your nth confirmation that Ran decides to grasp the side of your cotton panties and slowly drag them down your quivering legs. Both of you still can’t believe this is happening. You’re about to satisfy his every craving, and he’ll make sure to do the same for you.
Ran is on his knees, staring up at your body as if it’s a piece of art that has moved something inside of him. His admiring gaze is pushing all of your shyness and insecurities to leave you. His making you feel comfortable while being so exposed and vulnerable is exactly why you fell in love with him in the first place.
The weight of a peck being stamped on the inner skin of your thigh is what you feel before your body starts being covered in kisses. He’s raising to his full height while doing so, and the last one he gives you is on your forehead, just like the first of the night.
“I need you, Ran.”
Everything is still around the two of you, in the silence of the night you can hear the deep breath he takes. You lean forward to kiss the tattoo peeking from the collar of his dress shirt.
The hanafuda is a bright reminder of the life he has selfishly involved you in, and for a second he rethinks his next move, but you quickly realize he’s getting into his head and raise on your tippy toes to kiss his pink lips.
“Take me to bed, Ran. Don’t make me beg.”
You’ve told him multiple times that you can take care of yourself, and you know that where you can’t on your own he’s gonna be there to save you. You believe him, and he has to do the same when you tell him that he’s not gonna get rid of you that easily.
“You’re gonna beg either way,” he promises with a sneaky smile as he grabs your ass in his hands, making you straddle his hips as he carries you to your bedroom.
More kisses are being shared between the two of you during the short way, and he can barely tear himself from you as he lays you on your mattress.
You think he’s reaching into your bedside table for condoms but what he finds is even better: your pink vibrator. He looks at it as if he’s discovered gold. When he orders you to take it and use it on yourself, you realize he wants to watch. He wants to recreate what you’ve so cutely told him you’ve been doing for the past few weeks while thinking about him. Ran wants to see for himself.
He stands at the foot of the bed while you tease your entrance with the bullet vibrator, collecting your wetness to make it glide more easily over your clit. You keep your legs spread to give him a show, watching as he pays you back by removing piece by piece of clothing.
His full-body tattoo reveals itself to your greedy eyes. You’ve seen it multiple times, but have never gotten to take it in all together.
You’re panting, reaching your slit with one of your fingers as your opening clenches around nothing under his lust-filled gaze. “Hold it,” his deep voice tells you, and you follow his instruction, regretfully so.
“Keep it spread fo’ me.” You spread yourself open with two fingers, bucking up to chase the sensation of your vibrator. “Fuck, such a good girl fo’ me. Doing anything I tell her.” He grasps his hardness over the cloth of the boxers, the grey fabric sticking to his skin and forming a wet patch where his precome is leaking.
He strokes himself a couple of times before removing the last piece of clothing on his body, finally letting you see the place where his tattoo connects, but most importantly his cock.
It’s so pretty, lengthy, and a girth that would scare you if it weren’t for how long you’ve been dreaming of this moment. It bobs between his legs as he crawls over the bed to you and the pink on its head is glistening, you wish you could clean it up with your tongue right now.
You think he must also have an oral fixation because the moment he reaches you and settles between your open legs he chunks the vibrator to the side of the bed to cover your wetness with his mouth.
Curious tongue running over the mess you made, the sounds he’s making giving away how much he’s enjoying getting a taste.
“Can’t believe I’ve been missing out on this. You taste like heaven, princess.” He’s raising as he mutters the words. He takes one look at your withering figure from above, before letting a glob of spit fall on your cunt.
Ran bends and goes right back in, the muscles on his shoulders moving along as his hands come up to hold your thighs open before you can crush his head, you can already feel the bruises from the tight grip forming on the skin.
It’s like the wet dreams that have been plaguing your mind ever since he cut his hair have finally turned into reality. His shorts locks are peeking from between your thighs and you’re gripping them for dear life as he feasts on you, mouth sucking around your clit and lilac eyes peeking from below your mound with a stare so intense that you can feel your legs trembling from that alone.
When his fingers join in the fun you feel yourself getting closer, he’s moving them in a come hither motion and hitting your spot just right. He’s not building up momentum or taking his time in opening you up, that’s how desperate he is. Two of them are fucking into you quickly and with precision, while his dexterous tongue flicks your bundle of nerves.
“Ran, fuck, you look so good between my legs,” You can feel him smirking against you, the boost of ego you know he needs to get him right where you want him.
“I’m gonna cum, plea– please, don’t stop.” The problem is that Ran doesn’t exactly like being told what to do, and he’s being greedy now. He has waited too long to have you, he can’t possibly wait anymore.
He stops his movements, triggering a cry on your part. You nearly kick him with one of your feet but he’s fast enough to move to the edge of the bed, sitting in front of the full-length mirror that covers your wardrobe and conveniently faces the mattress.
You stare at him, spread legs and hard length resting on his lower abdomen as he settles reclined on the palm of his hands. “Come sit on my cock.”
You’re facing his back, laying down on the bed still, and from your position you get to admire the tattoo on his back, and how his muscles flex beneath the skin every time he moves. His body is as sinful as it can be, he drips sex and makes you want to mold yourself to him and never let go. It has always scared you, this pull he has on you, but now he’s the one inviting you over. It’s not the time to shy away.
He’s watching you from the reflection in the mirror as you get up. Your naked body is to him like a tall glass of water after weeks without drinking, he feels like he would die right here, right now, if you were to walk away without letting him have a sip.
Even his wet dreams – yes, you’re not the only one fantasizing about your best friend – don’t compare to the sight of you standing in front of his spread legs looking down at him.
“Uh nah, turn around pretty,” he prompts when he sees you’re about to straddle his lap. He enjoys the sight of you doing whatever he tells you to without even having to touch your body, and he stores that information inside a little drawer in his head for later.
You finally sit down, sliding against his hot skin until you’re resting only half of your weight on his thighs. His cock is now sandwiched between your bodies, and he groans when your asscheeks rub against it while you are wiggling onto him purposely.
“I said sit on my cock, I want you on top of it.”
You’re about to fuck your best friend, it doesn’t seem real. Should the two of you even be doing this? This will change everything forever, there would be no going back from it.
You know that once he’s gonna slide inside you you won’t be able to look at any other man ever again. You barely do now, anyway.
Your right hand goes under you to grasp his length, the angle is uncomfortable but you make it work enough to give him a few pumps. His girth feels hot in your hold, and you bring it to your opening to tease yourself with his wet tip.
“Fuck baby, don’t tease me.” The reflection in the mirror shows his tensed body in all his glory, and you get a glimpse of his hands buried in the sheets, he’s gripping the fabric so tight you think blood might’ve stopped flowing.
Ran is trying not to buck up into you, he’s giving you time to adjust to his size, and you realize how needed it is when you finally lower yourself on it.
You’re watching the scene unfold in the mirror, how his cock is slowly sinking inside of you. The stretch leaves you with a burning feeling and when you nearly reach his base you realize how full you are. All your bumps and ridges are being deliciously stroked by his skin.
Your lips fall open in a pant and Ran is groaning right by your ear as he straightens his posture and bends slightly over your body. “I’ve been dreaming of this for years,” he confesses while his hands grasp the fat of your thighs, spreading you to him as he loops your legs over his, keeping them open just like that with his knees.
He can’t believe his eyes when he gets to fully glimpse how far he’s stretching your cunt with his cock. All the patience in the world wouldn’t help him hold back anymore.
He bucks up into you, having you take his cock down to the base. You let out a shriek at how big he feels inside, and after that, he starts moving. Being on top made you, at first, feel like you could be in control, but it seems like the orders he was barking at you weren’t the only thing he was planning on doing on his part.
Ran starts pounding into you from below, strong thighs helping him in bucking up. You’re being split open on his cock and he’s enjoying the show. The sound of skin slapping against skin is so sinful, but your eyes are now closed in pleasure as you’re reduced to nothing but a moaning mess. His thrusts are so powerful that it takes you very little time to lose your mind.
He’s calling for you, you can hear his deep voice and feel his hot breath on your ear after you slumped against his bigger body, resting your leaned-back head on the crook of his neck. “Mhmh, open your eyes, pretty girl,” like the good girl you are, you do as said, even if you’re struggling to keep them open when his thrusts don’t let up, but instead seem to be getting deeper every time you do something he asks of you right.
He grabs your chin with his thumb and pointer, redirecting your line of sight towards the mirror, where you can see his heavy balls slap over your glistening skin from below. “Look at how much you’re dripping, that’s how I slid in so quickly.” You whimper at that, Ran always had a way with words that could get to you even when nothing of sorts was being said, always the teasing one, but now that he’s running his mouth with all these dirty thoughts you can’t help but be even more affected than usual.
“You take my cock like a pro, mh. You like it, don’t you, my pretty little slut? Oh, I just know you’re loving this. Bet your little vibrator couldn’t make you feel this good.”
He’s pressing down on your belly, making the pressure on your navel feel ten times more intense, and all you can focus on is how he’s spreading you open. “It’s so big Ran- Ah,” he thinks your words are gonna get to his head. He has to keep a solid grip on you not to melt at your praise, “Fuck Ran, please, please baby.”
“What is it that you want, use your words.”
“I wanna come, pleasee, I need it so bad,” He loves how polite you are, asking for it with a please. He’d give it to you no matter what, but he appreciates how much you’re trying for him. He knows you can get a little hot-headed, or maybe he just found that one field where you finally succumb and let others take care of you.
Ran reaches over to the forgotten toy and switches it back on before placing it over your neglected and pulsating clit. He never had anything against sex toys, he doesn’t see the harm in using them to bring more pleasure to his partners. He knows you could come from his cock alone, but he needs to feel you gushing around him right about now, before he loses it. He wants to see you dripping to the ground before he fills you up to the brim.
You grasp a handful of his hair and pull it without shame as he fucks you with abandon while rubbing your clit with the vibrating toy. He has to hold your thigh open with one of his big hands because you keep clenching your muscles, and he needs to watch as you come undone.
“Fuuck,” you’re cursing loudly, without a care for your poor neighbors who must be going crazy with the loud noises at such a late hour.
Ran is hitting all the right places, he’s prodding and searching all over your body like he needs to study it, to learn it, and knowing him and how attentive he is, you’re sure that the next time it will take him half of the time to get you there. Or maybe he’ll use his knowledge to drag it out like the teasing little shit he is.
But who said anything about a next time? You’re not even sure as to why the two of you have fallen into bed together, but what you know with certainty is that you’re perception of Ran has shifted the moment he cut his hair.
It might be crazy, ruining a years-long friendship over something so trivial, but it’s like your best friend Ran was the one with the braids, and the one you’re sitting on top of, who’s kissing your neck and whispering sweet praises in your ear, who’s bulkier and more charming and wears purple striped suits, is someone else entirely, but someone that you love all the same.
You’ll always cherish your braided Ran as your friend, but this older version of him will not be able to live inside your mind while battling your feelings as you’ve always done.
The man in the mirror looks at you with lust, but under all of that is the shade of his unchanging lavender hues, the ones who have been staring at you with unnamed affection for years. Maybe it’s time to let go of that uncertainty and fall into him once and for all.
“Ran, I’m gonna come.” He’s so good at reading your body already that he doesn’t stop, he just forgoes the vibrator opting to massage your clit with his thumb, spreading you open with two fingers, while his other hand reaches your boobs. He knows how sensitive they are, he remembers you telling him once, and that’s why he has avoided touching them until now.
His fingers alternate pinching and pulling at the erected nipples, and his hand grasps the entirety of your left beast to pull you down as you try to fight his thrusting and press you onto him.
He noses at your cheek, inviting you to meet him for a kiss. It’s a deep one, with tongues entangling and teeth bumping against each other, he has to rein you in as you’re panting and mumbling.
You don’t have the strength to speak anymore, but Ran knows the exact moment you dangle and trip over the edge because you squeeze him so tight he lets out a string of curses.
He feels you gushing around him, the squelch of wetness becoming even more loud making his cheeks tint red. He’s never been shy when it comes to sex, but the way he’s fucking you now it’s so nasty that he can’t believe how you’re letting him. His sweet girl.
Now that you’ve come on his cock, he slows down his hips to avoid overstimulating you, and he helps you regain your breathing as he kisses your cheek, “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Mh- Fuck,” Your cunt is squeezing him so hard, coherent thoughts are slowly leaving his mind in favor of you. Nothing else matters now but you.
Ran has to gather all of his remaining strength to slip from you and lay you down on your white sheets. Big eyes are looking up at him as he just hung the moon and the stars, and from his position, he gets to watch your face contort in pleasure as he slides right back inside your wet heat.
“Ran-“ “I know, baby.” Your nails are raking down his chest, red marks showing up on the untattooed side of his body. Your neck is straining as you press the back of your head into the pillow, and he eyes the still unblemished skin before placing his lips on your pulse point, sucking and biting as he goes.
His thrusts are slow but deep, you can feel the heat building up in the pit of your belly all over again. You buck up against him, watching as he lets out moan after moan, getting closer to his end. He sounds so fucking good.
He wants to drag this out, scared of what might come after the both of you come down from your highs, so he pins down the side of your hips with one hand, resting on his hunches as he grasps both of your wrists in the other and raises them over your head.
He’s circling his hips now, rubbing his navel against your clit and relishing in all the pretty noises you’re letting out.
“Pretty girl- can you come fo’ me one more time? You’ve been s’good to me, gimme another. Just one- one more,” Ran’s voice is strangled, he’s trying to hide how much the pulsing of your cunt is affecting him, with very little success. His balls are strained and heavy with cum, he wants you to come around him as paints your walls in white.
You’re moving to break free from his grip but his strength doesn’t let you, so you try begging for him, “Rannn, more! Please, need more, I’m so close- Wanna cum.” You’re whining, sweat running down your body, he looks at how your skin is glistening and wants to lick you up.
Ran has never been able to tell you no, so he moves the hand that was holding you down to your neck, thumb resting over your pulse as he squeezes enough to make you feel it. His hips resume his thrusting with a purpose.
“Cream on my cock, ‘m gonna fill you up, angel,” and you do just that, on command. Ran thinks you ruined every other woman for him, right there and there. It’s like you were fucking made for him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, babygirl.”
He’s right behind you, mouth parting as he groans and repeats your name like a fucking prayer. You’re arching your back, your chests are pressed together and Ran swears he can hear the sound of your heartbeat as he fills you up with cum.
With scrunched-up eyebrows and eyelids fighting to stay open, his purple eyes are taking you in. Your legs are locked behind his back and his hips keep pressing against yours as he slowly drags out your highs, cum dripping down his thighs as he tries to fuck it back into you.
“Fuck, I feel so full,” you manage to let out in surprise after regaining your breath. Ran lets go of you the moment his mind is clearer, and when you feel him slip out from within you, for a moment you’re scared he’s gonna get dressed and leave you laying there.
But Ran just parts your legs before you can close them in shyness, and takes one good look at the mess you’ve both made before diving in. He’s happy he’s gotten to fuck you raw, so now he gets to taste how good you are together.
You’re still so sensitive that when his tongue makes contact with your folds, you tremble. He takes his time in eating it out of you, loud smacks and wet noises can be heard as he does, along with his hums of approval, “Mhh, taste so fucking good, baby. Wanna try?”
You furiously nod at that, dragging him away from your heat before he gets in his head that he needs to make you come again; you don’t think you’d be able to do that now, the overstimulation from those simple touches already taking you to the verge of crying for him.
Ran finally kisses you again, tongue slipping past your lips to make do with his promise, and you moan in appreciation at the taste of you combined. Everything he does is just so fucking hot.
He doesn’t stop once you do, and risks stripping you of your breath completely, but you’re not any better. The last thing you want now is for him to not kiss you anymore, so you grip his infamous hair once again, scratching his scalp with your nails as you’ve always liked doing to get a reaction out of him.
Ran shakes in your hold, he has to pull away or he’s gonna fuck you all over. He can feel himself getting hard against your thigh, so he decides to leave your embrace. He’s aware of the elephant in the room, and his maturity is screaming at him to talk things out before he can fall right back into it.
“Ran… please, don’t leave,” he glances back at you because of the way your voice breaks while muttering that sentence. His heart clenches when he sees your lash line glisten with unshed tears, so his hands find their way to your pretty face to hold it as he stands close to the edge of the bed, bending over you. He kisses the tip of your nose, then takes your mouth in a chaste kiss.
“‘M not going anywhere, my love. Just need to take care of my pretty girl. Give me one minute and I’ll be right back, okay?”
A simple “‘mkay,” leaves your lips in a mumble, and Ran helps remove the sheet from under your spent body to cover you with it before leaving the room.
It takes you a few seconds to elaborate on everything. Aside from what happened in the past hour, you’re now fixating on the names he just called you. My love. My pretty girl.
His? You definitely are, you just didn’t think he knew.
Once he steps back in the room, you notice he’s cleaned himself up and wore his discarded boxers. You take him in while he walks closer, silently appreciating his physique as you’re used to doing. But this time you get to recognize the bruises and red marks littering his body as something you’ve done yourself.
As promised, he’s carrying a wet towel and a bottle of water, and he carefully cleans you up with the former.
After making sure you’re hydrated, he settles by your side under the sheets and drapes his arms around your waist as both of you lay on your respective sides, facing one another.
“I was planning on giving you a gift, after the party was over, y’know? But you just had to run away,” he lets out a big sigh, as if thinking back to your fight makes him drained all over again.
“What is it?” You ask, as curious as always. He loves this side of you. He loves you, actually.
“I gave Rin one of my braids after I cut them off. I was thinking about giving you the other one,” your eyes widen, and the movement of your fingers running over his collarbone stops as you ponder over his words. “I know how much you like them, so did I. Want my two favorite people to keep them safe for me.”
Your heart has never beaten this fast, you think it might start overheating and set your whole body on fire. You bat your eyelashes, willing the tears away as you hook your hands under his face, gently stroking his jaw.
“Thank you,” is the last thing you whisper before closing the distance, repaying him with another short but sweet kiss.
When you separate, you lean your forehead against his and he softly calls your name. In the closeness of your embrace, you meet his lavender haze, “I love you.”
The only thing that follows his sentence is silence. You think you must’ve fallen asleep, this has to be another one of your dreams, one of those sweet ones you used to have when Ran still had his braids and the two of you were younger.
Ran could easily take your stillness as an answer. He could fall victim to his hidden insecurities and make you think he meant it in a platonic way to somewhat try and save what remains of your friendship. But he knows that no matter what your response to his confession might be, he wouldn’t take it back for the world. There’s simply no getting over you.
“Don’t misunderstand,” He knows how much you overthink, that’s why he should’ve said this before. “I’m in love with you, always have been.”
You think your heart must’ve stopped completely now.
“Ran…” “Sh, I know, it’s okay.” He feels the need to comfort you straight away, to let you know that not sharing his feelings is okay. He’s always gonna be there for you, no matter what. “God, Ran, I love you so much.”
The lips that suddenly find his, again and again, are not the only thing taking his breath away. Both of you cannot believe how stupid you are, how you’ve been in love this whole time while thinking the other could never see you that way. His hands are all over your heated skin, caressing down your back as you hold him closer.
“Want you to be mine, baby.”
“‘m yours Ran,” his kisses are spreading everywhere he can reach, he’s getting drunk on you once again. Bitten lips part to let out panting breaths, and you notice soon enough how the newfound confessions are affecting not only yours truly.
Heady eyes and tinted cheeks present themselves to you. You think the marron of his natural blush and the shade of purple staining his pale skin look a lot like the color of the hair that started this all. You love it already, just like you love him.
And Ran lets you happily grip onto it as he takes you again and again, that night. No more wet dreams that leave you running away from him, he’s gonna make sure to fill your nights with something that’ll make you want him even closer, every day, from now on.
Right before falling asleep, as dawn leaves space for daylight behind your closed curtains, you take one last look at your sleepy Ran.
You comb back his messy hair to uncover his pretty face, softly kissing his forehead before falling into a dreamless sleep. There’s no need for dreaming anymore, you have everything you want and need right here in your arms.
Might have to send his hairstylist a bottle of wine as thanks, though.
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goldsbitch · 8 months ago
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Hello hello! I am still absolutely obsessed with the "Fire" fic you wrote. You are such a talented writer omg, the storytelling, the humour, everything!
So I thought, I have an idea for a funny fic and I'm just gonna send it in LOL I remember Lando saying in an interview that he's really scared when he's the passenger. So what if his GF is speeding all the time and Lando is just internally freaking out and sweating while trying to keep his cool next to her?
Just an idea, if you don't wanna write it that's fine too (:
omg omg omg thank you so much! i'm blushing and i'm scared - hopefully you'll like this one! i added a detail that might be little over the top - but who knows? not me anymore.
I'll drive
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"You have a car?!" Lando uttered, forgetting any table manners, the food he had been chewing nearly falling out of his mouth.
Y/N was dead silent, the look on her face strongly resembling a child who lied about cleaning their room and just blushed every toy under their bed.
Her boyfriend gave her a cheeky questioning look, and when it finally set in - the fact she had been hiding the existence of her car from him - he was truly stunned and somewhat amused.
"So, wait. You know how to drive?! Why am I always taking you places?" he asked rhetorically, never actually being bothered by that, but still.
"I don't know how to drive-" she tried before getting interrupted by her father.
"Of course she does, I taught her myself," the jolly man said and patted her on her back with a proud smile. Y/N's face got washed with crocked smile, as if she swallowed something truly detestable.
"No, I do not know how to drive-"
"Nonsense, she's alway been so hard on herself," he father continued. Y/N just sighed.
The young couple came to visit her hometown for the first time. It was lot of reminescing of old times and her school days - a context that Lando very much appreaciated. He had met her as a grown up woman, but that weekend, he witnessed many amusing moments and heard lots of stories that only childhood small towns hold. What did he love the most about this experience? The fact there was nothing for her to do to stop it, no matter how much she frowned. Influx of surprising moments, but this discovery topping all of them.
She saw Lando's perplexed face and tried to save the situation. "I never lied to you, technically you never asked...I just figured you like driving so much, why bother, especially if I am so bad at it..."
Lando was not having it. "Oh, you're not getting easily out of this one," he replied, biting his lower lip, actively having to remind himself of the fact her family was right there. There was something innately attractive about her being so raw and pushed into a corner. Just pure cuteness. "I'm sure you're not half as bad as majority of the people out there," he said, new plans forming in his head. "I think you and I should take her for a spin," he said, referring to the car, and hid his smile behind a glass. Her eyes were piercing his with an energy so intense, it was electrifying.
"No, Lando, I am not driving while you're in the same car," she stated firmly, not breaking the eye contact.
"Come one, sweetheart, it'll be fun," he said, honey dripping out of his mouth.
"It will be anything but that," she said, but Lando ignored that, turning into her father for more information.
"So what kind of a car it?"
The rest of the conversation continued in description of a car Y/N herself could only describe as red, her father telling a story about how he got it for his daughter and how she actually barely ever drove it, which apparently broke his heart.
//
Let's not forget, this was Lando - of course he had ulterior motives. While it was great, spending few wholesome days in the company of his girlfriends family, his frustration grew, because for some reason, she refused to have any intimate activities in her family's house. Why, he had no idea. But of course, he respected that.
She never mentioned anything about not having some nice outdoor sex in a car. He wanted to see her drive and also ride. His perfect afternoon.
Lando is not the best of passengers, often uneasy about the common mistakes casual drivers made. Taking over the wheel is a natural thing for him to do. But, this was an exception he was excited to make - how bad could it be, right? He learned the hard way not to ask that question again.
//
"You sure you don't want to switch places?" she asked, once again, doing everything she could to get out of this.
"Nope babe, passenger seat is the vibe for me today," he smirked, making himself overly comfortable sitting next to her.
She raised her eyebrows. "Here goes nothing, I guess," she murmured and put the keys into ignition.
Lando found it amusing, seeing her so hyper-focused, as if she was launching a rocket ship. To be fair, it was a manual car - so it was close.
Three deep breaths - I fucking hate this, she thought, turned the key and released the clutch. When the car immediately jumped, Lando regretted sitting in his usual obscure way, his head hitting the door with quite a loud bump.
"Told ya," she said and started the car again. No matter how much she tried, she couldn't possibly sell her mistake as an intention.
"You released the clutch too soon," he said while assessing the bump forming on his head.
"Do not give me advice when I drive, makes me angry," she announced and this time actually managed to start the car in a semi-ok way.
Lando watched his bubbly, happy-go-lucky, girlfriend turn into a monster and there was nothing for him to do to stop it.
Everything was somewhat fine when they were still on the quiet roads surrounding her neighborhood. She stopped on the way to the main road, watching two cars that were comically far away and letting them pass. They didn't have to say anything, both knew what the other one was thinking. Y/N knew there was plenty of time for her to join the road before those cars, but the lack of trust in her own abilities was making her wait stubbornly. Lando watched the scenery, amused and starting to understand that in this relationship, his place as the driver was more than secure. She didn't want to be in this position, in fact she was increasingly more mad, that Lando and her father teamed up on her. But since she was where fate got her, she was absolutely not accepting Lando smirking at her.
"I know what you think, we have plenty of time, so I will not be doing some stupid moves to get us both killed," she said and gripped the steering wheel even more.
To prove his point, Lando leaned over her and squirted his eyes and watched the slowly approaching cars. He gave her a sarcastic nod. She rolled her eyes.
"I'm joking, I'm joking," he said, putting his hands in defense.
"You better be, otherwise I'll just yeet us into the ditch."
"Feisty..."
And that was when the line got crossed.
"Fine!" she said, having no control over her emotions, and pressed the gas with new found energy. She turned, almost into a drift, and joined the main road, nearly having the two cars crash into her.
Lando gripped the handle, not expecting her to speed so much. His eyes went wide with realizations - she was the kind of driver operating on emotions. Had this been a racing track and an F1 car, he'd be having more fun, knowing the cars were epitome of safety. He was not so sure about this vehicle.
She had the "Tsunoda" energy and absolute lack of skill to go about it. Weaving, wrong gear almost constantly and not bothered by the sound her car was making.
"You're driving quite close to the lane, baby," he commented, getting more and more worried about their safety.
"Shut up, don't be all smart about it," she said, lips locked in a line. She was focused - not that it helped.
Another hard turn where she missed the right moment to go into it. Lando took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second, trying to stay calm.
After few hundred metres, he couldn't take it again.
"I think you're way over the speeding limit," he mentioned.
"That's not what this says," he nodded to her speedometer. Lando leaned over and had to laugh.
"Yeah, that's definitely not correct. Honey, I'm sorry, but the lane - you are too close to it," he said in the calmest tone he could gather.
"My brain does not work like that, I see it more in an abstract way..."
His eyes nearly popped out. "You see the road in an abstract way? Oh dear god."
She sighed, not understanding what was the big deal was. "No like, it's a concept. It's not real, if there is nobody on the road, you can be anywhere."
"I'm pretty sure that's not the case, sweetheart," he said and thought for himself that it could be the case if she knew how to drive, but not like that. "Change the gear, you're burning your clutch."
She slapped the steering wheel. "I. Do not. Accept. Advice. At the moment. Thank you!" she said slowly before going on a rampage. "We both know you're exceptionally good at this, it was your idea, I tried to stop you, so now face the situation and do not tell me what to do because I might panic even more!"
"Ok, ok, calm down," he said, putting his hands up in defense and turning his head away to avoid watching her inventing a new way how to turn the steering wheel.
This sent her over the edge, truly giving up on any rules. She was mad, scared, uncomfortable and kind of hungry to be honest.
Lando stayed silent, worried for his life, regretting his decision and making a mental note to listen to her if she says she can't do something - if they survive this.
A huge bump and a loud noise. She barely managed to keep the car on the road.
"What is that?" she screamed, not knowing what to do.
"Front left tire puncture, retire the car! I mean, shit, stop, over there," he gestured, to the sideline of the road.
//
"Ok, so what now?" she said once it seemed like a decent amount of time for him to stop observing the wheel.
"It's just the tire, I'm sure you've got a spare at the back, right?" he asked and like the gentleman he was, got up and looked in the back for a replacement. When he got it out, he proudly put it in front of her, considering his part of the job done. She stared at him, not moving. "There you go," he said, encouraging her. "They taught you how to do this at driving school."
"Um, yeah. I missed that lesson. Can you do it?"
"How could you miss that lesson?" he asked in desperation. Both of them stood there, waiting for the other to take the lead. It was very unusual for Y/N to see him this passive around a car. "Come on, you must have had a question about this on your test," he pleaded.
And then it clicked. "Lando?" she asked, having a very strange feeling about his behavior. "Do you know how to change a tire?"
He stayed silent, pretending to ignore her question. Y/N's eyes went wide. "Oh my god, you don't know how to change a tire?!" she asked once again, unable to believe that could even be the case. "Isn't that like half of your job?"
"Well no, actually, my job is to drive. There is a whole team dedicated for changing my tires," he said matter-o-factly.
"You're a racing driver. Spend more time in a car than in a bed. And you don't know how to change a tire," she stated and started to laugh. "That's so rich."
He let out a heavy sigh. "I've never actually done it myself. Plus these are normal tires, different system."
"Oh my god," she said, unable to process.
The way how much this whole thing has backfired had Lando stuck. He was suppose to be engaging in inappropriate activities with his girlfriend at this moment. In his understanding of that, it did not include getting his phone out and searching for an online tutorial for bloody tire change. But, there he was. Y/N was suddenly having so much fun, coming off a high that was the adrenaline her body produced during driving. She was free and driving was impossible now. Bliss. In her opinion, this was all Lando's fault - she told him she couldn't drive. Payback time - hopefully Oscar would pick up.
She was dialing her phone, while he was trying to understand how to go about this.
Yes, he picked up! "Hi, this is Y/N," she said in a very serious tone. "Who are you calling?" Lando mouthed, his biggest worry that she dialed up her father and he is now going to have a reputation until the end of time. "Help," she mouthed back silently.
"Hi Y/N," was Oscar's response, the driver being somewhat confused as to why she was calling him. "What's up?"
"Glad you ask. Me and my boyfriend got into a serious situation."
"You and Lando?"
Lando frowned. "Are you calling assistance? We don't need them..."
She ignored him."Yes, I was forced to drive-"
"He let you drive?"
"Forced-"
"What kind of assistance is it?" Lando asked, doubting the whole phone call.
Y/N continued without pausing. "And we managed to get a flat tire, which I don't know how to fix and to surprise of the whole universe, he can't fix as well."
There was only laughter on the other end of the call.
"Y/N, who are you calling?"
Y/N pretended not the hear Lando. "Do you know how to change a tire?"
Oscar was more than amused, knowing he just gained a wild card to use on Lando anytime he would want. "Yes, of course I do. Put me on Facetime with him."
Y/N smirked at her boyfriend, who was still confused and with sparkles in her eyes handed him her phone.
"Oscar says hi!"
Lando blinked, several times. "What? No!...Shit. Hey Oscar," he waved at his teammate awkwardly.
"I have been summoned," Oscar announced, finding this all very amusing.
"Yes," Lando replied, defeated.
Oscar did not wait and took the situation in charge. "First step to do is make yourself seen, guys. You got a triangle?"
"Where's the bloody bucket hat when you need it the most..." Y/N mumbled, having Lando roll his eyes in reaction.
"I'll go and find it and you guys figure this out, ok?" she said handing over the phone to Lando and giving him a little peck on the cheek.
"I hate you," he said with a smile.
"I hate you more," she replied and skipped over to the trunk.
//
After series of creative curse words, one pair of ruined jeans and a celebratory high five, the pair stood once again in front of her car, staring at each other.
"I guess I'll drive us back," Lando decided loudly and waited for her approval.
"Agree. Let's not disturb the gods anymore. You're such a bad passenger princess anyway."
The past hour was filled with lot of conflicting emotions, but the only one that stayed was the love the two shared just by looking at each other.
"I'm sorry I forced you into this," Lando apologized softly. "It was not fair. I see that now."
Her lips turned into a weak smile. "Thank you. And sorry for calling Oscar. I'm sure he won't let you forget this."
He saw right through her. "No, you're not sorry about that - I can see the devil in your eyes."
She bit her tongue. "Yup."
It was hard for Lando not to kiss her in that moment. It was impossible for her to resist.
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antsday · 7 months ago
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in the palm of your hand
[i was re-reading @habken's incredible scammers to lovers au and wrote this short fic. I really love their work and couldn't help myself lmaoo. anyways i hope you all enjoy!!!]
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“Hi! Can I help you with- oh,” says the angel from the IT department, spinny chair swiveling to a stop. “It’s you again.”
The first week Katsuki had come in, Deku had been relatively understanding and chipper- bright and sunny and shit. More personal than the strained smile and forced cheer that most customer service workers spoke with- of course I’ll fix your laptop, no problem, just leave it to me. 
Now, about three weeks later he looks at Katsuki like he’s just bitten into a lemon. As in, like Katsuki had come into the IT department, looked Deku in the eye, bit into a lemon, and then made a puckered up face and writhed in discomfort and then showed up with another lemon the next day, rinse and repeat for nearly a month. A complicated mix of intrigue and confusion and mild horror at this endless display of masochism.
Which is fair; there really is no other way to look at a top ten Pro Hero who repeatedly comes in to have his laptop fixed and won’t admit under penalty of death that it was because he clicked a pop-up in hopes of having a proper conversation with a dreamy IT guy. Not that Dreamy IT guy in question knows about all of that, but whatever. If Katsuki was in Deku’s position, he would also be worried about the fact that the safety and integrity of the public was left in the hands of guys who can’t stop getting scammed by obvious pop-up ads. 
“Your laptop’s broken again?” Deku says incredulously, as if reading Katsuki’s mind. His voice is really nice, even when he sounds confused as shit. Smooth and soft like- like a satin pillowcase. Or something. Whatever. It’s not like they pay him to be good with words. 
Then again, it’s not like they pay him to (unsuccessfully) flirt with the guy he’s normally supposed to see once a month max, but here he was. 
“Yeah,” says Katsuki, like he said two days ago, and then three days before that, and for the past month. It’s easier to say than I got a pop-up ad for a BL manga and I am ninety percent sure the twink on the cover was just a recolor of Sasuke Uchiha and I clicked it because I’m a fucking dumbass and I needed an excuse to keep coming in here and gazing into your dreamy-ass eyes. If you even care. 
He’s surprised Deku’s even asking. He’s been consistently coming in here for exactly the same reason: his laptop ‘mysteriously’ got a virus and now he needs it fixed. He’ll be back to pick it up soon, no, he’s not getting a new laptop, no, he’s not sure what happened, no, he’s not going to install some fancy-ass ad-blocker because he doesn’t want to (and it would get rid of his excuse), and Deku’s never asked this but yes, he would love to go get dinner sometime, he’s free today and tomorrow and the day after that and the rest of his life, forever, actually- 
“...Did you,” Deku begins, like he’s searching for the right words. “Uh. Do you have any idea what could have happened? Any idea at all?” 
I gazed into the dead-eyed stare of poorly-recolored Sasuke’s green eyes and thought of you because your eyes are also green, and less unnerving to look at, and the more I thought about that the more my mouse moved away from the ‘x’ button and the next thing I know, I have a virus and my desire to carnally hold your hand has overpowered any other logical thought. That’s what happened. 
“No,” Katsuki says belatedly. “Fuck. Look, can you fix it or not?” 
“Of course,” says Deku. He’s still got that little furrow in his brow. Katsuki wants to bite at it like taffy- which, is a weird fucking thing to think, scratch that- “Just- give it over, and I’ll be sure to have it ready for you in a little while.”
“Cool.” He holds out his laptop. It’s reminiscent of when he was four and showing off the cool rhinoceros beetle he caught to his mom. He’s internally beaming with pride at his success so far, and Deku’s got that same baffled, borderline horrified expression that his mom did. 
Although, that particular interaction ended with the thing flying out of his hands and into his mom’s cardigan and with him getting yelled at, so, maybe it’s not the ideal scenario to compare this to.
 But this encounter will end differently. He’s got a grip on the rhinoceros beetle, now. He just has to play his cards right. 
“So,” he says, shoving his hands into the pockets of his slacks so Deku won’t see how fucking sweaty they are. “You’ll have it ready by lunch tomorrow?” 
Deku takes the laptop and tilts his head. “Uh. Yeah, I will. In fact, I can get it to you earlier than that-”
“I’ll be busy for the rest of the day,” Katsuki lies. All his incident reports are done, and he’s got the night shift on patrol tomorrow. “You’re done by 2 tomorrow, right?”
“...Yes?”
“Great. Look, I have to stop at that fucking- crepe place, down the street, right,” he says, praying to every God there is that he looks cool and casual and not like a ‘Deranged Goblin Man’, as the Hero Times described him a few months ago. “So. When you get off work you should meet me there. At the crepe place. Tomorrow. At two pm.”
He doesn’t know what’s worse- the fact that he’s really doing this, being reduced to the same sort of emotional sap he would have made fun of only five years ago; or the fact that Present Mic’s lessons on subtlety and hidden meanings in text were actually good for something. 
Look at him, effortlessly weaving together words to create sentences with underlying motives. He’s like a modern-day Shakespeare. He’s golden. He’s killing it. Bakugou Katsuki, master of words. He’s on cloud-fucking-nine. He’s-
…aaaaand Deku isn’t responding. 
Deku blinks. He opens his mouth. Closes it. He sets the laptop down, staring up at Katsuki intently, and Katsuki starts to sweat. 
You are Bakugou Katsuki, he reminds himself. You might be down bad, but you’re not weak. It will not kill you if he rejects you. Well, it’ll kill you a little. But not that much. 
“At the crepe pla- to give you the laptop, right?” says Deku slowly. His face is turning bright red. Katsuki goes a little weak in the knees. 
“Sure, yeah,” Katsuki says half-heartedly. “Look, if you want, I could. I dunno. Fucking- buy you a crepe or something. As payment.” 
He’s so smooth. Eat your fucking heart out, Dunce Face. ‘Zero game’, his ass. 
“Sure,” Deku says, scratching the back of his neck, smile just a tad bit shy. His face is still mildly flushed. Katsuki swoons (and does his best to not let it show on his face). “I- uh. I’d like that. I guess.” 
“Cool,” says Katsuki. “Cool. Great. Okay, bye. Be there or else. Bye. See you.”
He turns on his heel and power walks out of the room, not once looking back, even when Pigtails nearly crashes into him or when Deku makes a noise suspiciously like he’s slamming his head against the desk. He walks out of the room, into the hallway, back to his own office.
The door slams shut behind him. He takes a deep breath. Squeezes his eyes shut. A breathlessly excited grin forces his way onto his face, and he pumps his fists, victorious. 
He's got a date.
part one/part two
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months ago
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Death Wish 12
Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: mob!Bucky Barnes
Part of the mob drabbles au
Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
Photo Inspo
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"Hm, not that one. Dear, I think the last one was it. Perfectly traditional, without being stuffy," Winnifred insists.
You stare at yourself in the mirror. Your pick is everything you prefer. Simple and easy. Not uncomfortable. Not fussy laces or elaborate beading and endless skirts. Just a dress.
Of course, it wouldn't be good enough for a king. Nor his mother. You temper your disappointment. You assume that will need to become a habit. Your opinion, as always, is secondary.
"I suppose it it a bit plain," you agree, "sure. We can go with the last one."
"Are you sure?" Kitty pushes her shoulders up as she slides to the edge of the seat.
"Yes, it's fine," you assure her.
"Congratulations," the associate steps forward. "Shall we get you back in it?"
"No, you can just put in the order," you say. You are in no rush to have her ream on those laces again.
"Of course, you've had a long day," she agrees sheepishly, if not with a hint of surprise. Eight hours is a long day. Too long to spend in a shop. "You should ring the bell. Since you found your dress."
"The bell?" You question then glance over at the other women. "Okay."
The associate flits off and you stand listless in the dress you'll mourn with your previous life. When she returns, she has a big golden bell. She gives you a speech about your happy day and hands it over. You give it a jingle then just as quickly give it back.
"You sure you don't want to try it on again?" Winnifred asks.
You shake your head, "sorry, it's been a long few days."
"Oh, yes, our condolences," Rebecca intones. "Mother, I think Bucky might already have a few words for us for keeping his bride so long already."
"Yes, despite my best efforts, he can be a greedy little boy," Winnifred laughs.
You attempt a smile. You can imagine it's more of a quiver in your lips. Winnifred stands, the other women as well, your sisters hesitant. The three of you are cautiouslt wading through this new world. One where you're no long insignificant. The threat of your father's disapproval has been replaced by a greater one.
You did this. You and your selfish impulsivity. You could excuse yourself for fear or desperation, but you can blame yourself just as much for not thinking out the consequences. Not that you could ever guess they would involve a white gown and diamond ring.
There is some chatter as you are taken back to the lobby. Winnifred attends to the payment as you retreat in embarrassment. Your sisters exchange a none-so-subtle look of concern.
"Well then, girls," the matriarch turns with an accomplished sigh, "allow us to escort you love bridesmaids home." She declares, "I believe you," she stops in front of you and takes your hand, "are due to meet your beloved. Do tell my son I send my tidings. Certainly it won't be long until I might do so myself."
Your sisters stir nervously. You glance at them and nod. Just do what you're told. It's always been the best strategy.
"That's very kind of you,, Winnifred," Kitty speaks first.
"Ah not at all, I should like to see your side of town. I am painfully nosy, though I might paint it as curiousity," she lets you go. "And you might give me some insight into my future daughter. She is rather enigmatic thus far."
You wince. Of course, it all methodical. You claim your jackets and emerge outside. Wanda, Rebecca, and Natasha claim one car, your sisters and Winnifred the next, and another idles as you approach.
The driver comes around and pulls open the door. You hate that. It feels as if you are a puppet on strings. You move to the tugs and tweaks of Barnes' all reaching hand.
You lower yourself onto the seat, peering on ahead of you, and hesitate before you slide in. You don't expect him to be waiting for you there. The door closes as you shift further in. Barnes' takes your hand before you can settle and kisses your knuckle above the ostentatious stone setting.
"Doll," he purrs.
"Barnes," you greet plaintively.
"Ah, you don't gotta be like that," he drawls as he clings to your hand, his thumb feeling the stones.
"Sorry," you nibble your lip. "I'm only tired."
"Yes, I hope you found something," he says. "Ladies and their dresses."
"Mm, yes," you affirm.
He tuts, "you don't sound very excited."
"Not sure I'm fit to wear white..." you mutter.
"Doesn't bother me, doll. We've both lived lives before we met--"
"Not that," you interject, surprisingly yourself at your curtness. "You know why."
He inhales deeply and sighs, "he got all he had coming. We both know that."
"Yes, but it was me...." you trail off and shrug.
You sense him watching you. You stare ahead and swallow down all those confusing emotions. "It's done, I suppose."
"I respect the apathy, doll, but you don't gotta play cool with me," he insists.
"I don't give-- I don't care about him."
He nods and gives a thoughtful im, "your sisters. Have I not proven myself to you? I told you I'd see to them, I'm a man of my word.”
“I believe it,” you resign. “It's… a lot. I don't think I'm what you think. I don't think I can do this.” You slump in defeat. “I'm not what you're looking for. You've made a bad choice.”
“Hmph,” he scoffs. “That you even got the guts to tell me so shows me you're wrong. You don't know how right you are for me, doll.”
He snakes his arm behind you and pulls you close. “Now you're not gonna roll over and show your belly. Not if you're my woman.”
“I'm not…”
“We were both in that warehouse,” he lowers his voice as his fingertips curl into your hip. His other hand brushes over your lap. “You did what needed to be done. Just like today. Just like yesterday. Every step of the way You've shown me exactly what you say you're not.”
“Bucky, I just wanted to be free,” you latch onto his forearm. “That's all–”
“You're free. And safe. You know what I'd do for you, doll? What I'll do to keep you safe? Happy? To keep you mine.” He leans in to nuzzle your cheek, “that's the one thing about me you haven't figured out. I'm stubborn. I put my mind to something and I do it. Exactly what you did when you showed up battered and begging–”
“Please,” you rasp and his nose tickles down your cheek and he dips down to kiss your neck. His lips and beard send a tingle through you.
“On my honour, you'll never look like that again. You'll never be bruised and the hand that dares to lay a single blemish on you will be cut off,” he nips your skin.
The tenor of his voice brooks no doubt nor the tight grip his keeps on your thigh. His hot breath blooms around your neck and he growls. You made a deal with the devil and now he's come to collect.
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 7 months ago
Text
Just a cute, fluffy fic from Wayne's pov
💞
"Hey Wayne, how do you know you're in love?" Eddie asks him as they eat dinner that night. Wayne nearly choked on the pasta he was eating but covered himself by gulping down some coffee.
Shit, he needs something a little stronger for this, like when he had the talk with Eddie a few years ago, that was awkward as hell for the both of them.
Fortunately for Wayne's heart, Eddie kept his love life a secret. There were a couple people that weren't serious, but that's as far as Wayne knew. Eddie asking about love, though? This was new.
"I haven't got time for falling in love, Uncle Wayne, I have way too much shit to worry about, and it's a bunch of bullshit anyway", were the words of Eddie just a year ago.
Wayne knew his nephew craved love but at the same time viewed it cynically, so whoever this person was must be special to change his views.
"Why'd you ask boy?" Eddie's cheeks turn pink and he shrugs, gulps down the warm coffee and almost scalds his tongue. "Ahh shit!" his eyes widen when there's a knock on the trailer door, and Wayne gets up to answer it; he knows who it is even before he answers.
You're standing on the step, a D&D book tucked under your arm, smiling at Wayne with just a little bit of shyness this time which was an improvement.
You hurry inside and tell Eddie you'll set the books up in his room.
For six months, you'd been visiting the new trailer (all paid for by the government, so no questions were asked about the old one), and it took a while for you to relax around him; now that you did, it was like your second home and Wayne was used to you being here.
You had been visiting on your own, but sometimes with Harrington and Dustin, Wayne doesn't know what went on during Spring Break, just that Eddie was injured during the earthquake, and you were there for him every step of the way.
His wounds had healed but left scars, and sometimes Eddie woke up screaming after horrendous nightmares, not when you were around, though. When you were around it helped Eddie, helped the both of you work towards healing.
The fact that both of you were obviously falling head over heels in love with each other, is something that Wayne has kept quiet about, waiting until Eddie approached him about it.
Today was the day.
Wayne smiles gruffly. "This about your girl?" he nods to you as you head into Eddie's room and Eddie's cheeks darken even more.
"Yeah, yeah it is. She's amazing, isn't she, Wayne?" he enthuses; I just wanted to ask. How do you know it's love? I mean shit, I uh look at her, and she feels like home, and I don't want to be with anyone else ever; I feel like I can be myself around her, and she'd never judge me; she makes me tongue-tied and my heart races and she's so distracting and I... I'm in love with her" he sighs content then looks up at Wayne panicked.
"Shit, I don't even know if she feels the same?" Wayne sighs, he adores his nephew, but the boy is completely oblivious at times.
"Son, she looks at you like you hung the moon so why don't you quit horsing around and ask her out" Eddie looks like all of his Christmases have come at once.
"You really think so?" He asks hopefully and his eyes light up when Wayne nods. "Maybe I will talk to her then" Wayne then proceeds to watch his nephew practically melt at the sight of you; that was something that so very rarely happened with Eddie, so he was completely smitten.
Here's hoping that he did pluck up the courage to talk to you.
❤️
It's late when Wayne comes home from work; the TV is on, so Eddie is still up, and Wayne would bet that you're here too.
Wayne sees the two of you giggling together, holding hands and exchanging kisses, there's a big soppy smile on Eddie's face and he only has eyes for you.
About damn time. Also, Hopper owes him a glass of his best scotch so he will make sure to collect that too.
💞
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