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#and then would’ve had to explain that to people for the rest of my life
symbiotic-slime · 2 months
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“having a special interest can’t be that bad” I had to convince myself not to get a blond mullet because it was “Eddie Brock core”
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irndad · 2 months
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Hi, I’m so sorry, I searched for request guidelines and must be missing them so if this isn’t something you write I apologize-
Flower prompt heliotrope with Spencer where reader sacrifices herself/or gets shot to save Maeve so Spencer can be happy, even though she’s hopelessly in love with him. 🥹
Little angst, little fluff. You can decide if reader fully sacrifices or just gets really badly hurt and how Spencer reacts.
my dear!! there are no rules yet- i have things i won't fill but thus far the onus has been on me to clarify. i had so much fun writing this- thank you for requesting it!!! requests r open :^) wc: 1.1k
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“Is Maeve okay?”
It’s the first thing she says when she wakes up from her hospital bed. Spencer’s shaking, a little woozy too. It turns out that they have the same blood type, and she lost a whole fucking lot of it. He’d been happy to give it to her, although ‘happy’feels like the wrong word to use in this situation. 
She had internal bleeding, and collapsed harshly from the gunshot, scuffing her forehead so badly she needed stitches. Comparatively, it’s the least of her worries, but still- Spencer can’t stop staring at it. She’s literally marred by the choice she made to protect him. 
Maeve is okay. She’s in the same hospital, but Spencer’s spent about ten minutes with her- the rest of the last 12 hours of his life were spent oscillating between donating blood and praying to a deity he’s not sure exists. 
She’d survived. They’d both survived. He should feel relieved- why doesn’t he feel relieved?
It’s a stupid question that he keeps asking himself. Two of the most important people in his life are alive, but still in the moment, her blood spilling over him- the gasp of her breath when the bullet hit her- He’s going to remember the sound of it forever, what it sounded like for her to almost die for someone else. He hates that she’s the type of person to do it. To jump in front of a loaded gun for a woman she’s never met before. 
He’s mad at her. He has no right to be- he gets a chance with Maeve now, and that’s all due to the choice she made. And yet- he’s so, so angry at her. Because she could be dead right now. He could never, ever talk to her again. She made a choice that meant that he might have never been able to hear her voice, do a magic trick for her, ever, ever be near her again. How the fuck could she do that to him?
“Yes,” he replies, “she’s okay.”
She nods agreeably, before wincing at what appeared to be an intense ache at her temples. 
“My head hurts,” she says, her voice low and endearing, and his heart roars with protectiveness. “Do you think I could have a juice box?”
She’s so sweet- he wants to laugh, in a sad desperate kind of way. This is his favorite person in the world, sitting up shakily and asking for juice, clearly groggy and so endearing. He almost lost her. 
“You’re okay too,” he says, “If you’re wondering. You scared us. You had internal bleeding and a concussion. You lost a lot of blood.”
It’s only then she frowns. 
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” she pouts, trying to sit up and speak to him. “But it all worked out, Spence. She’s okay.”
“It didn’t all work out!” Her eyes widen at his outburst, and he feels like scum. Yelling at her when she’s in a hospital bed, taking a bullet so he’d have a chance at romance. 
“You said she’s okay,” she says back, slowly. “I don’t understand.”
“You lost blood. You almost died. That is not it working out. You have to tell me you understand that.” He doesn’t know why he’s being so harsh, but he also doesn’t know why he has to explain this to her. 
“I know,” she sighs, “I know. But this is the job, and I didn’t have time to get a vest on!”
“Then you wait. You wait. You don’t just burst in-“
“And you would’ve lost the love of your life!”
“What makes you think she’s the love of my life?”
A nurse shuffles by the room and Spencer takes a deep breath. He doesn’t want to be kicked out of her room, and on some level he knows how crazy it is to be yelling at a gunshot victim. He pinches his nose, eyes winced in frustration. 
She’s been his favorite person by a wide margin for an incredibly long time. She joined the team as a consultant and he remembers the first time he did a card trick for her- the first time he’d fallen asleep on her shoulder. He was so grateful to know her. Still is. In this moment, knowing feels like time slipping out from an hourglass- like it was almost numbered. Their time was almost finished. 
Maeve was lovely. Maeve listened and she was kind and Spencer really did like her. He’s glad she’s safe, now. But his best friend, his coworker and favorite person- Spencer thought everyone could tell that he’s been in love with the team consultant since the first week he knew her. 
Everything he liked about Maeve reminded him of her. 
And she’d jumped in front of a bullet for someone she thought he was in love with. And fuck, maybe he did love her in some way- but whatever ‘in love’ meant with Maeve, this sorrow, the pain of knowing she’d almost been someone he’d have to remember was far, far deeper. 
“You’ve never mentioned anyone to me romantically. I’ve known you for years, Spencer. She’s important to you.”
Maeve is. She was. It’s all so confusing now. He has liked someone for years, though. He couldn’t tell her, though. Maeve was a welcome distraction from a love he thought was wholly impractical and impossible to love him back— a love that now he has to witness languish in a hospital bed. 
Morgan knew. Morgan would tease him every time Spencer drew a smiley face in purple marker on her coffee cup. He would tell him to just ask her out, and it had always felt so improbable. She’d never go for someone as lanky and uncharismatic as him. 
“You’re important to me.” 
She has no idea how much. 
Her eyes soften at that, and not for the first time, he wants to curl into her arms. He wants to lay next to her in the hospital bed, and feel her pulse beat against bare skin. Feel her pulse and with every beat know that she is alive. 
“I know that, Spence,” she breathes out.
Even though it’s not kosher, not necessarily the right thing to do when your not-girlfriend/girl you went on one date with is in the same hospital, but when his best friend opens up her arms for a hug, he ends up doing exactly what he wanted. 
The team finds her asleep in her hospital bed, with Spencer asleep in her arms. It feels voyeuristic to look at, but Spencer really, really couldn’t care. 
He resolved to tell her that he loves her as soon as she’s healed. With the way Morgan side eyes him every time he ‘helps’ her walk across a room by holding her waist, he’s not sure he’ll last that long. 
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tobifuyu · 10 months
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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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rodolfoparras · 8 months
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think about price who constantly refers to his lover as 'the wife' with lovesick eyes to 141
now imagine 141 loosing their SHIT on the inside when they first meet 'the wife' and she isn't some petite pretty little housewife like they imagined but instead a large ass man built like a fucking TANK and easily towers over Simon who is the tallest of the group. price still refers to him as 'the wife' with the dorkiest grin ever and 141 doesnt let him live it down, threatening him with telling 'the wife' whenever he doesnt let them do something stupid
(feral anon)
(i want to be 'the wife' so bad but sadly i am a short transmasc that doesn't look like a man at all)
(your posts cure my gender disphoria)
A/N: I loved this idea and I’ve been wanting to write a fluff piece for my old man so here u go, something very light hearted ! Excuse any mistakes I wrote it within an hour or so!
It’s no secret that Price likes to keep his private life and work life separated, not many people know he’s married and he likes to keep it that way.
However he has no qualms about 141 finding out about the person he loves so much, matter of fact Laswell was the first to know, all unplanned of course.
It all happened when the two of them snuck away from the rowdy group of men to smoke. Sitting inside would’ve been a better option. It was warm inside, they had decent lighting and were within hand’s distant to their drinks but that would also mean they were at risk of losing their hearing or getting elbowed in the stomach or face by the drunken men, so outside it is.
Price offers her his cigar, which she takes gracefully muttering something along the lines of “my wife doesn’t like it when I smoke” while taking a drag from the tobacco leaf.
“Neither does mine” he says with crows feet appearing around his eyes and lips curling up into a smile.
“You’re married?” Laswell says, only with a hint of surprise on her face as she hands the cigar back to him.
“Happily” he says smile still present as ever on his face before he takes a drag from the cigar as well “been that way for four years now”
She just nods in response before she takes the cigar back, and that’s pretty much how Laswell finds out about Price’s spouse.
The next person to find out about it is Gaz.
141 had been out on a mission that day, and Gaz had taken the impulsive decision to head straight into the fire in hopes of getting important intel. He’s managed to get it but not without getting scolded for his reckless behavior by Price. Hours later and the guilt is still eating at him so he decides to make his way over to Price’s office in an attempt to make amends with the older man.
Gaz takes a deep breath before he knocks on Price’s office door.
“Come on in” he hears the older man’s voice.
Gaz walks in only to be met with the sight of Price seated in his office chair, paper work scattered about on his desk and a cigar resting between his index and middle finger.
“Sir” Gaz says, awkwardly shuffling in place. “I’d like to apologize for earlier today”
“Already forgotten”
The surprise must’ve been clear on his face because the older man can’t help but chuckle.
“Sit down” Price says pointing at the chair opposite to him before taking another drag from the tobacco leaf.
Gaz swiftly takes a seat, hands resting on his knees, nervously chewing on his bottom lip.
There’s a moment of silence as Price rearranges the paper in a neat pile on his desk, pen carefully placed next to it before he speaks again.
“You got someone special waiting for you back home?”
Once again Gaz is surprised but this time the older man just looks at him and smiles.
“I do, sir”
“So do I” Price says smile getting bigger as he folds his arms across his chest and leans back in his chair. “Oh don’t look at me like that I’m not that old am I?”
“No - no sir” Gaz says, hands awkwardly flailing about and feeling his ears burn as he blurts out the words.
Price’s smile grows even bigger before he begins to explain “point is I’m sure that special someone wants you back home alive, if anything were to happen to me I’m sure the wife would find a way to haunt me in the after life”
Price’s gaze falls to his hands, fingers fidgeting with his wedding band.
Oh.
The wife.
The ring.
The captain is married.
“Sometimes we have to do things we rather not do to make sure we come back home to them, keep that in mind Garrick”
“Yes sir” Gaz says, mind still processing this new found information.
“Good, now if you excuse me I have someone to call,”
Gaz without thinking says “the wife?”
Price only chuckles but nods his head in confirmation “the wife”
Soap is the third person to find out and it happens while 141 are relaxing on base, playing cards and drinking beer.
Price walks in with black slacks and a white button, rolled all the way up to his elbows. On top of that there’s an invisible trail of cologne that seems to follow his form.
“Captain! Come join us” soap says not even looking up at the man but instead keeping laser focus on the cards in his hand.
“No can do boys I’m heading out with the wife”
Soap almost drops the cards in his hand, head turning so fast Price is surprised he doesn’t get whiplash. “You’re married?”
“I am” Price says trying to suppress his chuckle when he sees Gaz peaking at Soap’s cards. “You weren’t planning on proposing were you soldier?” Price jokes which sends the rest of the group into a fit of laughter.
Soap physically recoils at that, head turning back to his cards and muttering a “to you captain? No thanks”
“Alright then, I’m heading out” Price says, choosing to ignore soaps comments, as he pulls on his jacket“don’t wait up!”
As Price makes his way over to the front door, he hears the group continuing to tease soap, can even hear the Scotsman accuse Gaz of looking at his cards, but he quickly forgets about everything as he sees you parked outside and waiting for him.
Ghost was very well aware of Price’s spouse, had even been the first person to know that Price was planning to propose.
The two of them had been in an entirely different squad, and less familiar with each other when they got sent out on a mission. A lot of things went wrong that day so much so Ghost and Price weren’t sure if the both of them would get back home alive. So Price had taken the opportunity to tell him about this special someone, how he was planning to propose to this person when they were scheduled to go back home, had even forced a wedding band in the palm of Ghost’s hand and told him to give it to the person if Price doesn’t make it out alive.
Luckily the both of them had managed to get out alive and Ghost had gotten the opportunity to watch Price put the ring on this person’s hand.
With that being said Ghost should be able to recognize this person if they were to appear in front of him but it’s been years so when he hears someone asking where Price is he doesn’t think twice about telling them, chalking it up to some poor lost recruit looking for the captain, while keeping his eyes on the weapon he’s cleaning.
However he doesn’t get to do much more before he hears another voice.
“Who’s the guy?” says soap, confusion clear in his tone.
Ghost turns to the other man and the annoyance must’ve been clear in his eyes because Soap raises his hands in an apologetic manner. “Oh sorry did i interrupt something important “ he says with a smile on his face.
“Anyway a tall really tall dude maybe taller than the ghost?” He pauses as if contemplating before he continues to explain “was looking for Price, really buff too…” he trails off while glancing down at his arms “hey you think I should work out more?”
Ghost just sighs before he returns to cleaning his weapon but he’s once again interrupted when Gaz walks in.
“Captain wants to see us in his office”
And that’s when he fully gives up on the task as he follows the two other men over to Price’s office, grumbling over why the captain was calling them over while putting up with the chatter from the Scotsman telling Gaz all about the giant that just passed him.
It doesn’t take much before they find themselves in front of Price’s office.
Through the door they can hear Price’s voice along with a much deeper voice, holding a conversation.
Soap is the first to knock on the door, while sharing confused glances with the two other men.
“Come in”
The three men enter the room only to be met with the sight of Price standing behind his office chair where a man is sitting in it, both of them sporting equally bright smiles on their faces.
“Boys” Price says, face ever so proud as he looks down at the man “meet the wife”
The man stands up, tall just like Soap had described him and when he reaches a hand out they see a wedding band that matches the one on Price’s hand.
“I’m the wife” you say with a big smile on your face.
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avis-writeshq · 24 days
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pairing: early seasons!spencer reid x sunshine!fem!reader genre: fluff, pining, best friends to lovers warnings: reader struggles growing her nails out, reader gets her nails done. vietnamese women are the best at doing nails i swear (also if you get the reference you win another kiss) wc: 1.08k
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Spencer thinks you deserve all the best things in life. There are various reasons for this but the one that sticks out to him the most is that fact that you have always been exceedingly kind to him. You have always listened to him when he talks and never once tried to belittle him for any of his interests. A part of him thinks that it’s because your ages are so similar. Another part of him thinks that you’re just pitying him. He truly hopes that isn’t the case. 
He makes you your coffee in the mornings. He knows how you take it– which milk you prefer, the amount of sugar. He has even gone as far as to buy your favourite instant coffee brand– the kind that are unreasonably expensive and have to be bought through a weirdly sketchy website despite its raving reviews. He remembers the way your eyes lit up as you held the familiar box excitedly and he can’t help but preen at the memory. 
“Thank you for coffee, Spence,” you chirp as you spy your unofficially assigned mug on your desk. You’re wet from the rain, the shoulders of your coat darkened from where your umbrella has dripped water onto it. “Hotch would’ve killed me if I had to spend another five minutes at the kitchen. It’s not my fault my train came fifteen minutes late.”
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, watching as you shake your hair away from your face before warming your hands with the mug. “I did tell him that there was a correlation between rainy weather and increased train delays which could have been a reason that you were late.”
You smile, clearly amused, asking, “how did he take it?”
“He pointed out that I’m still earlier than the rest of the team,” Spencer responds sheepishly, his cheeks growing pink. “I planned my train route for when the rain would be the least heavy.”
“I should follow in your footsteps,” you muse, sipping at your coffee and sighing in relief. “You always make this better than me.”
“I’m glad you like it,” he murmurs, his hand brushing against his scarf. “I was– um, I was wondering if you wanted to get lunch together later?”
You laugh softly and he relishes in the sound. “I only just got here and you’re already asking about lunch?”
He feels his cheeks glow hotter as he scrambles to explain himself. “Well– usually– uh, JJ usually asks you so I guess I wanted to ask before she did. And you have lunch with Garcia a lot so I thought I should ask when you get here and– sorry, is that wrong?”
“No, of course not,” you assure, beaming. “I’m touched that you think that I’m so popular that you need to book an appointment with me.”
“You are popular?” He says it like a question because a part of him is genuinely baffled that you don’t realise how well liked you are. He has found that you always manage to command the attention in the room and he has seen first hand the way people would be instantly drawn to you. He finds that he is no different. 
“I promise you that I am not as popular as you believe I am,” you say with another laugh. “I’m flattered though, truly. I’d love to have lunch with you.”
Spencer cannot stop smiling.
*** 
“You’re whipped.”
Spencer shoots JJ a look, his cheeks glowing hot with embarrassment. “I am not whipped.”
“You have been staring at her talking to Officer Deetmore for the past six minutes and twenty seven seconds,” she points out, her eyes narrowing. 
“They’re probably just making small talk.”
Emily shrugs from her desk, mixing her cup noodles around. “I don’t know, I’m surprised that she can hold a conversation with someone so intellectually disinclined.”
JJ snickers. “You’re just mad that he mislabeled a file and spread the profile.”
“Intellectually disinclined.”
“Guys,” Spencer pleads, inconspicuously gesturing to you saying your farewells and already heading in their direction.
You’re smiling although it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Your arms are folded over your chest, a classic sign of discomfort, and your hands are tucked into your armpits. “Hey. What’s going on?”
“Are you alright?” Spencer asks instead of answering, soft enough as not to call attention to your little group. “What’s wrong?”
“Hm? Oh. I broke a nail.” You show him briefly– your natural nail has split at the corner just where they’re gaining length. “I’m a little bummed. It caught on the zipper of my go-bag.”
“Do you want to get your nails done after the case?” He asks, brows furrowing. “I have a nail clipper and file in my bag.”
JJ can’t help but be amused at this new fact. “You have a nail care pack in your bag? What, do you just take it around with you everywhere?”
He shrugs, ignoring the slight jab, pulling out the little pack from his satchel and handing it to you. He is well aware that you take pride in what you look like, especially your nails. You’ve told him the reason before, that your school was so strict that they wouldn’t let anyone grow their nails long and if they did they would be cut short by the nurse. He thinks that it’s borderline abuse. 
“Manicures are expensive,” you murmur, your eyes downcast as you focus on clipping each of your nails to an equal length. “Are we even allowed to have our nails done?”
“Federal Enforcement Resources states under grooming guidelines that ‘Makeup (including fingernail polish and artificial nails) may be worn by employees but must be professional and must not interfere with the proper use and handling of equipment necessary for their assigned duties’,” Spencer provides helpfully. “I can pay for your nails, too, if price is the issue. The bakery I buy my banh mi from has a nail place next door. I’m sure I can get a discount.”
You laugh as you file down your nails into a smooth edge. “You want to pay for my nails?”
“Oh, um, yeah.” He nods, cheeks suddenly hot and he wipes his palms on his slacks. “If you’d let me.”
“Gosh, well, at least take me out to dinner first, Spence.” You say it with jest, your eyes lighting up with mirth.
He doesn’t seem to catch your joking tone, nodding in earnest. “Alright. After the case, how does Saturday sound? I can pick you up at 6?” 
Emily and JJ are all too pleased. 
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reblogs are always appreciated !!
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418 notes · View notes
withwritersblock · 29 days
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because i liked a boy
~because i liked a boy by Sabrina Carpenter~
Author's Note: requested! Summary: Y/N gets a lot of hate online and Nico comforts her Warnings: brief discription of hurtful language Word Count: 1,893 Nico Hischier x fm!reader
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Nico and Y/N have been together for nearly a year and their relationship has remained offline for most of it. Despite both of them being in the spotlight at different levels. Nico was the captain of the New Jersey Devils while Y/N had a huge TikTok following. 
She spent a lot of her videos focusing on makeup and different trends. Today, she decided to film a get ready with me, dedicated to going to Nico’s home opener. For the last two seconds of the video, she showed herself in the mirror posing beside Nico.
It didn’t cross her mind that his fans would find the video as fast as they did. The entire comment section was berating her appearance and talking about how she doesn’t deserve him. Usually, she ignores a lot of the hate that she gets, but something about how even her own fans were switching up on her. 
The entire third period was still left as the boys were just now starting the period. She kept her gaze on her phone, scrolling the comments. Many of them were talking about how she is too ugly to be with. While others were saying that she was too full of herself to be with him. 
Reanne tapped her hand against Y/N’s forearm. Y/N lifted her gaze towards Reanne and forced a smile to her lips. “Are you okay?” she asked. Y/N nodded as she tilted her head back to the comments, she began to scroll through them again. Even clicking on each reply.
“Showed my followers Nico today,” she said, nonchalantly. She lifted her gaze towards the TV screen to watch the game get going. Reanne pouted slightly, “Did not go as well as I expected. I mean only people who follow hockey would’ve known it was him,” Y/N explained as she turned her phone screen off. 
“What are they saying?” Reanne asked as she ran her hand up and down Y/N’s arm reassuringly. 
“Just the usual stuff, commenting on my appearance and my personality. Saying that they know I’m not good enough for Nico; or I’m too full of myself to be with him,”
“Oh that’s bullshit,” Reanne reassured, “People on the Internet think they know the boys but they don’t,” she continued. 
Y/N nodded politely, listening to what she had to say but not truly letting the words sink in. 
The game ended with a win for the team. It was exciting and a hopeful start for the rest of the season. She waited in the suite for a while, as she was avoiding Nico. She knew she would have to put on a front for him, but it was hard as she was starting to spiral.
Each comment, all six hundred of them were starting to repeat in her mind on a loop. It was becoming impossible. The hard part was the fact that her supposed loyal followers were even saying awful things about her. 
She was the last one to leave the suite as she wandered the empty halls of the arena, waiting for Nico to tell her he was ready to head towards the car. Every home game she would roam around until he was ready to head. Being captain held a lot of media responsibilities compared to the other players.
Nico Boy: Come to the locker room darling
She smiled at the text as she began walking towards the locker room. For a brief second, for only a moment she forgot. She forgot about all of the awful things the comments were saying. All she knew was that she was heading to the love of her life. The light in her life, the one person who could truly help her in this moment.
After a handful of minutes she walked towards the locker room, seeing Nico standing outside of it. He lifted his gaze from his phone as he smiled widely. He was giddy as he walked towards her, widening his arms. She giggled as she wrapped her arms around the center of his back, He tightly wrapped his arms around her. 
He took a hold of the back of her head. She melted into his chest, suddenly getting teary eyed feeling his touch. “New tradition, right here,” he mumbled as he pressed his lips to the top of her head. 
She reluctantly pulled away, dropping her gaze. She blinked rapidly as she fought the tears forming in her eyes. He clenched his jaw as he furrowed his eyebrows, “Hey, why are you crying?” he asked as he rested his hands onto her hips. 
“No, no not crying, I promise,” she said smiling, her eyes instantly drying up, “Come on, let’s get home,” she said as she looped her arm around his as she began guiding him towards his car.
She was silent for the whole drive home, which was odd. She normally would be singing along to whatever song Nico was playing. He kept the music loud, not wanting to ask her any questions as she was definitely not feeling great. Instead he kept his hand on her thigh, rubbing his thumb in small circles.
He pulled into his parking spot inside the parking garage of his apartment. He quickly put the car in park and turned his body to the side. “Are you okay?” he asked as he tucked his knee towards his chest, “Don’t lie,” he said as he tapped his hand against her leg. 
She tilted her head to the side as she clenched her jaw. “Nico, I don’t want to talk about it,” she mumbled as she unbuckled her seatbelt. 
“My love, you’re sad,” he let out. A drawn out sigh left her throat as she tilted her head to the side to meet his gaze. She scanned his features, his eyes were squinted slightly as his lips were pouted. 
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said as she climbed out of the car. She shut the door and began walking towards the elevator. He clenched his jaw as he quickly followed her out of the car. 
He jogged after her, shocked at how fast she was able to get across the parking garage. “Y/N,” he let out as he reached beside her. She stopped short as she turned and met his gaze, she was crying now. “My love,” he let out sadly as he quickly wrapped his arms around her. She tightened her grip around his chest as she sobbed into his chest. “Upstairs, yeah?” he asked as he ran his hand up and down her back.
She nodded as she pulled away from his grasp, walking ahead of him towards the elevator. He let her keep the lead, walking behind her. He felt his heart ache in his chest. He was aware that he obviously didn’t do anything but still felt like he harmed her. 
Once they reached the elevator, it opened instantly as she pressed the button. They stepped inside, side by side. He loosely wrapped his arm around her waist pulling her to his side. She rested her head onto his shoulder as she took in a deep breath. 
After a few seconds they walked down the hall towards Nico’s apartment, where they practically live together. He unlocked the door and opened it as he quickly stepped inside, she followed behind. 
He spun around, hugging her tightly once more. “It’s stupid,” she muttered. He shook his head as he continued to run his hand up and down her back. 
After a few seconds she pulled away, dug into her pocket. She fished her phone out and pulled up the video on TikTok. “The comments,” she mumbled as she handed him the phone. She walked away towards the bedroom as she took a deep breath. 
He stood still in the entryway, reading the different comments. His body was fueling with anger only after a few comments. Utterly shocked to see that anyone could say anything bad about his beautiful girlfriend. 
Comment: ugh he’s way too good to be dating her, has he actually looked at her?
He read that comment multiple times, shocked to even think that anyone could think that. Especially someone who doesn’t even know who he is. She is the most perfect person in the world, the most gorgeous girl, she was everything to him. 
He went to the settings on her account and turned off all of the comments. Even on her other videos. Right now, she doesn't need to see any of the content.
He took a sharp breath as he walked towards the bedroom.She was already in her pajamas and curled up into bed, her makeup still on her face. She rolled onto her side, curling the blanket up to her chin.
 He tilted his head to the side as he took his suit jacket off of his frame, tossing it onto the chair in the corner of the room. He began to unbutton his shirt and slide his pants off of his body. He slipped into the closet as he pulled up a pair of sweats onto his frame. He walked towards the bed. He climbed under the blanket and quickly cuddled up against her body.
He looped his hand around her stomach, he ran his hand up her shirt. Reassuringly running his hand along her skin. He pulled her towards him, pressing his lips against her shoulder for a few seconds.
“You know they are just jealous,” he whispered into her ear, “You are so beautiful,” he mumbled. She squinted her eyes shut as she held her breath for a few seconds. “There is nothing that anyone on the Internet could say that could make me not love you or make me think you are not the most gorgeous girl in the world,” he whispered. 
“I know,” she let out, her voice rasped as she spoke. “It was just overwhelming,” she mumbled.
“I know, my love,” he whispered before he pressed his lips to her shoulder, “Take a few days off, spend time with me,” he whispered as she rolled her body over, facing him. “I turned the comments off,” he said. Her eyes widened.
“Nico,” she scolded.
“What?” he asked innocently.
“Then they’ll know it bugged me! That’s like the worst thing you could’ve done,” she let out, tilting her head back. Her eyes started tearing up again. He pressed his lips together as he scanned her features. He raised his hand up as he rested his hand on her cheek.
“What they think of you doesn’t matter. What you think of you matters,” he let out, rubbing his thumb across her skin so delicately. “The words they are saying are hurting you, my love, you don’t need to read those things,” he reassured. She clenched her jaw as she shut her eyes, a tear streamed down her cheek. He wiped it away. 
She smiled softly towards him. “Make a video about it, be transparent, it could help,” he explained. She nodded as she rested her hand onto his forearm.
“Okay,” she let out as he scanned her features.
“I love you,” he let out.
“I love you too,” she whispered as he leaned down and kissed her softly. He pulled away, resting his forehead against hers. 
“It’ll be okay,” he mumbled before he kissed her again.
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burnednotburied · 2 months
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You're My People
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AO3 Link
Pairing: Abby Anderson x fem!reader
Synopsis: You and Abby take refuge in an abandoned house to catch your breath and attempt to recover after the encounter with Ellie in the theater.
Tags: slight angst; hurt/comfort; mentions of death and blood; tending to injuries; (mostly) unspoken romantic feelings; reader is a young woman (same age as Abby)
Note: To be absolutely 100% clear, the reader is NOT meant to be Lev or Yara. Reader is a woman (about the same age as Abby) who met Abby on Seattle Day 1 when she was also meeting Lev and Yara. The four of them stuck together. None of this is super relevant for this story. (Just know that Yara was with them, but she was killed just as she was in the game, and Lev is around here somewhere.)
I have a lot of ideas for this character/storyline. It’s likely that I will continue to flesh things out in future fics, so I’ll leave the rest of the story to be explained later.
I put reader in many of the same scenarios as Lev was in the game, sometimes removing Lev altogether for the sake of the story. But reader obviously has a very different type of relationship with Abby than Lev ever would (or should) have.
----------------------------------------------------------------
“Don’t ever let me see you again.”
That’s what Abby had said to that girl – Ellie – before walking away without so much as a backwards glance.
You had quietly followed Abby out of the theater, because what else could you do, but you didn’t know how you were supposed to feel about what you just saw.
Watching Abby incapacitate one man and shoot another in the face without hesitating. Seeing her beat Ellie into the floor while she lay there motionless.
And the other woman. The one who was pregnant…
“Good,” Abby had seethed when Ellie told her. She almost seemed happy about it. Happy to repay the wrong that was done to Mel. An eye for an eye. A life for a life.
If you hadn’t called out Abby’s name when you did, dragging her from the haze that was her desire for retribution…
Well, you could guess what would’ve happened.
You were just glad the two of you had decided not to bring Lev with you. That he was somewhere safe.
Neither of you spoke a word as you navigated through the dark streets of Seattle, her leading the way with you following quietly behind, just as you had been doing since you met. Although now you may have allowed for a bit more space between the two of you than you did before, trailing further behind. Lost in thought.
It had been three days since you met, but it felt like so much longer. A nagging voice in your head insisted that you really didn’t know Abby very well, despite how it felt.
She hadn’t given you any reason not to trust her. She had never hurt you. In fact, she had fought so hard to keep you and (more importantly) Lev and Yara safe. She had even turned against her own people, killed her own people, for the sake of protecting you.
No, that wasn’t right.
Those weren’t Abby’s people anymore.
“You’re my people.”
Abby had looked so earnest when she said it back on the Seraphite island just hours before. And you had believed her.
The words left you with a feeling deep in your chest that was hard to describe. You thought it might’ve been… belonging. Something you’d been hoping for but never found. You’d always wanted to truly belong to something.
Or someone.
There hadn’t been any time to dwell on the feelings or what they meant.
And now all you feel is a pit in your stomach.
Why were you so shaken up? This is stupid. You’ve killed before, and you’ve watched Abby kill.
But this felt different. It wasn’t self-defense. It wasn’t necessary. It was dark and angry and honestly terrifying. She was honestly terrifying.
But it was justified, wasn’t it? You could argue that maybe it was necessary.
Ellie had been hunting Abby for days, killing her friends and seemingly anything else in her path.
Ellie killed Owen.
You weren’t sure of the exact history between him and Abby, but you did know how important he was to her. And you had seen the look on her face when she found him dead.
Who’s to say Ellie would’ve ever stopped coming after Abby and the people close to her? Who’s to say she’ll even stop now?
You’re just beginning to arrange your fractured, contradicting thoughts in a way that makes sense when Abby comes to a sudden stop in front of you. You would’ve run into her if she hadn’t stretched her hand out behind her in warning.
“We need to stop. Get out of the rain. Regroup.” Her voice is strained.
You hadn’t really even noticed that it started raining again, harder this time, but you can walk in the rain. Lev is alone, waiting for the two of you to return.
You open your mouth to protest, only to shut it again when Abby turns to face you fully. She’s balancing her weight unevenly, heavily favoring her right leg. A significant bloodstain runs all the way down to her left ankle. And her face…  
The pregnant girl had come from nowhere, attacking Abby from behind. She managed to slash across Abby’s cheek with a knife before you took her down with an arrow through the shoulder. It had been your only real contribution to the fighting in the theater, but it had been unavoidable. Abby had been in danger.
Now she’s standing in front of you, soaked from head to toe, from the rain and with blood, and you have no idea how much of that blood is hers, but there are definitely some significant injuries that need to be tended to.
Abby takes in your silence and your wide-eyed stare for a moment before shifting a little in place and clearing her throat. “Um… we can try in there. Yeah? The houses here should all be deserted.” She gestures weakly to the building closest to you.
You finally find your voice. “Yes, yeah. Let’s—let’s go in there.”
You pull your gaze away from Abby’s and walk past her, toward the small house, pulling your bow from where it rests over your shoulder and notching an arrow in the string. It suddenly occurs to you that you’ve walked all this way without your weapon drawn while Abby was injured and unarmed. For a moment, you’re glad that the Wolves and the Seraphites are too distracted fighting each other elsewhere to be roaming around in this area. Or else you and Abby would probably have been killed by now, both of you practically stumbling through the streets like a couple of vulnerable, mindless children.
You shake your head, silently scolding yourself and promising to be more alert, starting right now with sweeping the house.
The front door is mostly intact and slightly ajar. You approach carefully, painstakingly forcing it further open with your shoulder, fighting against rusted hinges and warped wood. The floorboards creak beneath your boots as you step inside, quickly scanning the entryway for anything or anyone that poses a threat. Abby follows behind you, trying not to visibly limp on her injured leg and holding up a small flashlight taken from the aquarium.
“Come on. You need to sit down,” you say over your shoulder, just loud enough to be heard over the pouring rain outside. For a moment, it looks like she might argue with you, maybe insist that she make sure the building’s clear first, but she seems to decide against it, giving you a quick nod of her head in response.
With your bow still drawn, you lead the way through the first floor of the building, passing a bathroom and a kitchen before arriving in what was once the living room. The room is filled with furniture in various levels of destruction and decay, somehow the most well-preserved among them being an old couch pressed against the back wall.
You point to it. “Sit,” you tell Abby. The fact that she listens and moves toward the couch without protest, albeit very slowly, is further proof of the extent of her injuries and her level of exhaustion. “I’m going to check the rest of the house, okay? I’ll be back. Don’t move.”
Abby lets out a scoff, immediately followed by a second, more pained noise. “I couldn’t go anywhere if I wanted to.” An attempt at a joke, made through gritted teeth. You give her a hesitant, worried look, long enough that she forces a small smile and attempts to reassure you with, “I’m fine. Go.”
She’s lying and you know that, but you don’t have much of a choice. You turn to go quickly search the house.
The second floor is clear of any discernible threats but also of anything that would be useful in helping Abby. On your way back to the living room, you rummage through the downstairs bathroom and a couple of mostly empty coat closets in hopes of finding something. Medical supplies. Even clean cloths.
You find nothing there and move on to your last hope, the kitchen. This room is even more ransacked than the rest of the house, and still, you don’t find what you’re looking for.
“Ugh,” you loudly groan, clasping your hands together on the back of your neck and casting your gaze upward in frustration.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” Abby quickly asks from the other room, sounding ready to jump up off the couch and rush to your rescue even in her current condition. It makes you smile until you remember that this is no time to be smiling.
“It’s nothing. The house is clear. I was just looking for some medical supplies.”
“Who needs medical supplies?” she asks, trying her hand at a second joke. This time you let yourself smile for just a second.
“You do, Abby,” you say, “You need medical supplies. Urgently.” You’re still staring up like the answer will be written up there if you just look hard enough, when something in the space between the one of the top cabinets and the ceiling catches your eye. If you’re not mistaken, it looks like the corner of a first aid kit.
It’s too high for you to reach standing, and there’s nothing for you to stand on top of. The countertops are broken, the pieces scattered across the room, and the wood of the lower cabinets is rickety and unstable at best.
You’re grumbling under your breath about damn high ceilings and unnaturally tall cabinets as you reenter the living room to find Abby almost exactly where you left her, left leg now up on the couch and elevated, right foot still on the floor. Both of her hands are hovering over the gash in her thigh, like she’s not sure if she should touch it or not, her face tense and focused. She’s in pain.
You pull your eyes away and look for something sturdy enough for you to stand on, eventually deciding on a mostly intact, only slight wobbly small metal table.
“Do you really think now is the best time to rearrange the furniture, honey?” Abby asks, glancing at you in her periphery. She’s joking again, and you know that, but you can’t help the warmth that pools in your cheeks at her use of the affectionate pet-name.
“I--“ You clear your throat, “I need something to stand on. I think I found something in the kitchen.”
“Aww, you can’t reach the top shelf by yourself?” Abby asks, amused. She turns her attention from her leg to watch as you drag the table out of the room. It squeaks along the floor the entire way, making her laugh softly.
 The fact that she’s being playful with you starts to ease your lingering panic about her many ailments. If she’s cracking jokes, she can’t be that close to dying, right?
“Crazy how you’ve lost like half your blood supply, and yet you still have enough energy to tease me,” you say, your own teeth gritted now. The table is much heavier than you anticipated. “And, for your information, the thing that I’m trying to get is not on the top shelf. It is above the top shelf. On top of the cabinet.”
“Uh huh. Sure… Take your time. I’m just over here, casually bleeding out.”
“Well, I’m no doctor. But I’m pretty sure that if the knife had hit any major arteries, you would’ve bled out a long time ago. So you’ll be fine for another minute. Probably.” With one final shove, you manage to get the table where you want it.
You carefully step up on the table, hoping that some sadistic asshole didn’t throw an empty first aid kit all the way up there just to waste the time and energy of some poor, desperate fool in need of medical supplies. (You, of course, being that poor desperate fool.)
After brushing off a thick layer of dust, you grab the handle. The kit is full.
“Yes!” you shout, nearly stumbling off the table in your excitement.
Abby can tease you all she wants and try to make light of the situation, but she can’t hide the look of relief that washes over her features when she sees what you’re carrying.
And, if you were paying closer attention to her face, she also wouldn’t have been able to mask the way her eyes go wide and her cheek – the one that’s not covered in blood – gets visibly pink when you get on your knees in front of her. “Uhhh hey, you can—you can sit on the couch.”
You raise your eyebrows, confused by her sudden nervousness. “No, the angle will be better this way,” you insist. “Just bring your leg over here.” She concedes, avoiding eye contact as you help her maneuver her injured leg so that her foot is back on the floor, practically between your knees.
There’s already a tear in her pant leg where the gash is. So to avoid having Abby stand up and take her pants off or cutting all the way around at mid-thigh, leaving her with half a pair of pants for the foreseeable future, you opt to just rip the fabric a little more on either side of the tear.
But you have a bad habit of occasionally thinking about something and then doing it, forgetting the often necessary in-between step of alerting the people around you to what you’re going to do first. You take the already-ripped fabric of her pants in your hands and tear, successfully making a hole large enough for you to properly clean and dress the wound.
The sound Abby makes when you do this surprises you. It’s almost sounds like a whimper—a noise that you don’t think you’ve ever heard her make before. There’s a twisting heat in your gut that seems to be a recurring side effect of being close to Abby, which you choose to ignore in favor of focusing on the more urgent (and honestly less daunting and less complicated) task at hand.
She’s quiet as you get to work cleaning the gash. Wincing slightly but remaining still.
The cut is deep, but as you expected it missed the femoral artery. You would have to stitch it up, though, and you told Abby as such. She nodded and watched you carefully as you quickly prepared, hoping to get this part over with as quickly as possible.
You moved even closer to her. Abby’s shin gently pressed against your front as you leaned over her knee, bringing your face closer, your movements precise and intentional.
Abby brings her hands down on either side of her legs, bracing herself. Her shoulders tense, muscles engaged. You have to tear your eyes away. Focus. You look back down at her thigh.
As you work, a strand of your hair falls from where you had tucked it behind your ear and into your face. You let out a light, annoyed huff. Before you attempt to blow the strand out of your eyeline, Abby’s fingers gently brush it back behind your ear. You feel yourself blush deeply, saying a quiet thank you before going back to sewing her up.
When the last stitch is done and you’ve carefully wrapped the wound, you feel Abby’s fingers run through your hair again, this time for no other reason but to draw your eyes up to meet hers.
“Come up here,” she says, her voice low. You stand, bringing the first aid kit with you, and feel the springs in the cushions creak beneath you as you sit on the couch, facing her, closer than is probably necessary. Before either one of you says anything else, you begin gently wiping away the blood surrounding the cut on her cheek, cleaning around the wound.
It's clear to you now that her wounds weren’t quite as detrimental as you had feared. With her leg sown up, her face was the only other thing that required your attention. Most everything else was superficial and would heal on its own. The rain had done a poor job of washing away all the blood, but it seems that much less of that blood had come from her than you had anticipated anyway.
“I can do that,” Abby says in a whisper, watching your face as you carefully and meticulously clean hers.
“I know,” you reply, just as quiet. “I want to.”
A few moments go by in silence until Abby once again breaks it.
“I’m sorry about tonight,” she begins, quickly adding, “Not sorry that I did it, but sorry that you had to… see me that way.” Her eyes are downcast. You know it’s weighing on her. Not just everything that happened today, but the fear that what happened could have a lasting effect on this thing you two have only just started to build. Call it trust or friendship or maybe something else entirely.
You shake your head. “Don’t apologize. I’m glad I was there. You shouldn’t have had to do that alone.” Abby nods, but you know it doesn’t do much to assuage her worries.
You still don’t understand what happened back in the theater. Or why it happened. Part of you wants to ask for the history now. How she knows Ellie. Why she wants Abby dead.
Maybe in time she will tell you, but you’ve already decided to trust her. To lean into whatever this thing between you is, and whatever it might become.
So instead, you ask another question that’s been in the back of your mind.
“Did you mean what you said earlier?” You pull your hand away from her face, finished cleaning the cut there. It may form a scar, but it doesn’t seem deep enough to warrant stitches. (And you’re not brave enough to try, on her lovely face so close to her eye.)
Abby smiles softly, leaning forward just a bit to bring your faces closer together. “You’re going to have to be more specific, honey.”
That pet-name again. It makes your head spin. Makes you want to close the already shrinking distance between you and press your lips to hers. But you don’t do that. Instead, you explain, “On the island. When you said that… I’m your people.” You pause, hesitating over the last few words.
Abby stops for a moment, almost looking confused, and you start to spiral internally. You realize that it was probably just something she said in the heat of the moment. To calm you down and get you to keep moving, towards safety. You wish you could take your question back, retract your stupid words. Swallow them up and hide them inside you, along with your ever-growing feelings.
Abby finally answers. “Yeah. Of course I meant it. You’re my people.”
“Yeah?” You break out into a grin.
She nods, smiling and sincere. “Yeah.”
It’s that one, small word that makes you close the distance between you. Not to kiss her, but to gently rest your forehead against hers. Abby seems stunned, like maybe she was expecting the other thing, or hoping for it, but she recovers quickly, closing her eyes and maintaining the physical contact. You close your eyes too.
“You’re my people too, Abigail Anderson.” You can feel her laugh quietly and open your eyes, pulling away just enough to see her face again. “So… where do we go from here?”
“Santa Barbara, California,” she says. You remember overhearing part of a conversation about that between Abby and Owen yesterday. You figured that’s where she would be heading; you had just hoped to be given the chance to tag along. But you guess you didn’t have to worry about that anymore.
So you nod your head thoughtfully. “Sounds good… Sunny.”
“Hmm, yeah. That’s what I hear.” You’re both smiling. Happy, strangely enough, given the circumstances.
“Abby…”
“Hmmm?”
“We are going back to get Lev before we leave though, right?”
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Note: If you read all of that, THANK YOU! This is the first fanfic I’ve written—and the first time I’ve written at all in a long time—so this is me dipping my toes in the water.
It definitely ended up being a lot longer and a lot less spicy than I anticipated, but I wrote what came naturally. I hope to continue this storyline, likely backtracking to when Abby and reader met, so we’ll be seeing more of these two. We’ll get to the fun stuff eventually!
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jgracie · 1 month
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HEY BLONDIE — LEO + DAUGHTER OF POSEIDON
masterlist | rules
♡ dedicated to covey @hopelesslyromanticshark the blueprint for the poseidon girlie x leo trope 😇 lovey > caleo 4eva (even the ship name is cuter!)
❝ daughter of poseidon x leo valdez!!!!! ❞ — anon
in which leo dates a daughter of poseidon
pairing leo valdez x poseidon!reader
warnings percys a bit of an ass in this lowk sorry guys (he didn't mean it i promise!!!), they have tech, andddd i lowk hate this but i haven’t posted in three days so 🙁 maybe i’ll rewrite it someday!!
on the radio . . . hey blondie (dominic fike)
an i’ve been DYING for someone to request this combo i love it sm …. also OGs remember when my bio was hey blondie 🫡 reader isn’t blonde dw (i’m not even blonde myself) !! also reader is a year younger than percy (making her the same age as leo)
Leo didn’t know Percy had a sister. Maybe he was living under a rock (he was - Leo spent the majority of his days at Bunker 9), but he just hadn’t considered the possibility of it, with Percy being a child of the big three and all
If Leo had known of your existence sooner, he would’ve burnt down Bunker 9 himself and spent the rest of his days glued to your side. He had met many people, but none as perfect and charming as you
You see, the boy was simply going to pass by Cabin 3 to show Percy this new gadget he’d made for him and see if he wanted to hang out sometime, since Leo hadn’t seen Percy in a while, when he met you - Y/N, Percy’s younger half-sister
“Hello, may I help you?” You asked, opening the front door of your cabin and being met with a boy with curly brown hair and big brown eyes. Immediately, you felt the heat radiating off of him increase and all of a sudden his brown curls were on fire
As a child of Poseidon, naturally, you’ve never been fond of fire, so this freaked you out. Knowing the water fountain was right behind you, you controlled the water with your hands and shot it at Leo, putting out the fire and drenching him in the process
Leo didn’t care, though. You could drown him for Hephaestus’ sake and he’d still come crawling back - okay, maybe that was a little much. He took in your worried expression and a wave of guilt washed over him as he realised how afraid you were
“I’m sorry, I have a hard time controlling my fire powers sometimes… Where’s Percy?” He asked, not even bothering to question your Godly heritage. You were very clearly a daughter of Poseidon
After that, things calmed down between you two. You let him in and although you were wary of Leo (and sat as far away from him as possible without being labelled as rude), patiently listened as he explained why he was looking for your brother
He then showed you the gadget he made and when Leo saw the way your eyes lit up at its mechanisms, he knew his life would no longer be complete if you weren’t in it
You gushed over the thing, pressing the buttons over and over again (which Leo didn’t have the heart to tell you would wear them down) and showering him in compliments - something that has never happened to Leo before
A grin made its way onto his lips. Sure, people have praised his creations before, but none of them did it the way you did, nearly bursting with excitement as you tried to handle it with utmost care
Part of Leo wished Percy would never come back to cabin 3 ever again, but speak (in this case, think) of the devil and he shall appear. That was his unfortunate cue to leave
He quickly showed Percy how to handle the device and was about to leave when you stopped him. Leo almost couldn’t believe his ears and almost leaped for joy when he heard you ask if you could pass by his cabin sometime, since you really wanted to see more of his stuff
That was the beginning of the most iconic friendship in Camp Half-Blood history
You quickly discovered you had a lot in common and so, you became attached at the hip. It was so bad that whenever someone was asked where one of you were, they’d give the location of the other since they knew there was an incredibly high possibility of you being together
Leo taught you how to use a screwdriver and weld and I can’t think of a third thing people who make machines do but you get the gist! And in return, you taught him how to swim
His ability to swim (or lack thereof) was something which was brought up your very first time hanging out together at bunker nine. After many attempts, you finally successfully hammered a nail into a piece of metal (fyi I’m a daughter of Demeter I know absolutely nothing about this subject) and in your enthusiastic state insisted you go to the beach together
At your suggestion, Leo got awfully quiet and began shyly playing with a stray piece of metal. Your eyebrows furrowed, confused for a second about the shift in his behaviour, when it finally clicked
“Oh my Gods, Leo, do you not know how to swim?” You asked, hesitant - you didn’t want to embarrass the poor guy. He looked up at you and nodded, pouting at the way your lips wobbled as you tried not to giggle. You weren’t laughing at him, of course, you just thought it was really cute
Grabbing him by the arm, you began to drag him to your cabin and said, “c’mon, I’ll teach you! It’ll be like me repaying you for teaching me how to do all the fancy things you do with metal!”
You guys started going to the beach more often after that. At first, you were just teaching Leo how to be in a body of water and not drown, but once he got the hang of it you started having swimming competitions and introducing him to all your fish friends!
They’re always telling you to hurry up and confess because it's so obvious that you like Leo and you keeping it to yourself isn’t doing you any favours but you can’t. Why? Because you don’t think Leo likes you back
Meanwhile Leo’s sitting on the sand next to you admiring the way you seem to gain life by being near a body of water, having to push his fire powers down whenever you’d pull him closer to you, the only thing filling the space between you being the water of the ocean
You are quite literally Mr and Mrs Oblivious. Everyone can tell you like each other but yourselves
It’s actually really funny because you run in the same circles so you tend to complain to the same people about how the other can’t tell you like them and they’re just sitting there trying SO hard not to facepalm
Most of the time you two go to Annabeth, simply because she’s the only one you believe can keep a secret as big as your crushes. Unfortunately for you she and Percy come as a packaged duo, which means Percy’s aware
She didn’t mean to tell him but one time after a heated discussion with you where you analysed Leo’s every move it was still fresh on her mind and she let it slip
Ever since then, Percy’s been eyeing Leo, who’s definitely noticed the behaviour switch. It’s not like Percy had anything against you dating - you were only a year younger than him, after all, and you never tried to stop him and Annabeth from dating - but he couldn’t help but feel a little protective
An extra year of life still made you his baby sister! He’d insist to Annabeth that it doesn’t bother him and Leo is a good guy and his friend so he’s happy that the two of you reciprocate each other’s feelings then turn and give the poor boy a glare so terrifying it’d make a hellhound cower in fear
While all of this is happening, Leo’s freaking out. He’s absolutely losing his mind because all of a sudden Percy no longer likes him which means he’s probably noticed he likes you and disapproves of your potential relationship
All these thoughts cause him to spiral and eventually distance himself from you. It was just occasionally rejecting plans but then it turned into him somehow always being busy, and it broke your heart
Percy, being the kind and loving brother he is, asked you what was wrong on one of those days and you had to fight the urge to burst into tears as you told him about how you thought you did something to hurt Leo
You see, Leo was your first real friend at camp. Sure, you had other friends, but they were all just casual acquaintances you’d talk to whenever you happened to see them. Leo was your first best friend, which meant a lot
In that moment, Percy knew what he had to do
“Hey, why’re you avoiding Y/N?” Percy asked, barging into bunker nine, his arms crossed as he stared down Leo, who was busy making something (as usual)
Leo, who hadn’t been fully listening, looked up to find none other than Percy Jackson standing in front of him, “what?” He asked, his eyes widening
“I said, why are you avoiding my sister?” He repeated, the scowl on his face deepening. Percy was usually a pretty nice guy, but that could change really quickly if anyone ever even thinks of hurting his loved ones (loyalty is his fatal flaw after all)
Putting his tools down, Leo stood up, suddenly defensive. Why was Percy putting the blame on him? He was the reason Leo decided to talk to you less in the first place. Doing that to you really hurt Leo, but he wasn’t going to let himself get close to you just to end up heartbroken and without two friends in the end
“Do you hate her all of a sudden, is that it? Because if that’s the case, you should at least be kind enough to voice those thoughts so she can find new friends–”
“Dude, I love Y/N. Who put that in your head?” Leo interrupted, “I’m avoiding Y/N because I’ve seen the way you look at me, Percy. I get it, you’re not happy that I like her, and I don’t want to bother you or put a strain in your relationship, so I’ve distanced myself.”
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He avoided you because he loved you, because he didn’t want there to be any trouble between you and your brother because of him, and yet somehow here he was being accused of hating you?
You’re the first person Leo truly felt love for ever since his own mother. How could he hate you
“Tell her,” Percy said. He felt immensely guilty as the realisation that he was the reason why you’d almost lost your crush and best friend hit him. He never meant for it to go this far, and honestly, the glances weren’t even purposeful - he just couldn’t help it
“She likes you too, literally everyone at camp knows it, you’ll be fine. And Leo, I’m really sorry I made you feel that way. I didn’t mean to, honestly, I just really care about Y/N and don’t want her to get hurt. But I know you won’t hurt her, so… I approve.”
When I say Leo ran so fast to your cabin that he left a whole trail of fire behind him, I’m not exaggerating. He passed by Flowers and Vines (Demeter + Dionysus kid flower shop/fruits market iykyk) and set their crops on fire, quickly making himself their mortal enemy
He couldn’t care less though. You liked him back! In a few moments, he’d confess and you’d agree to date him and you’d finally be his
And confess he did <3 you were a little mad at Percy at first for unintentionally separating the two of you but after three days’ worth of grovelling you were fine
You couldn’t be too mad, after all, since you now had your fireboy
(The crowd cheers!!!! After 5 pages of backstory you get actual dating hcs)
Okay so I just want to start by saying that Leo is literally like a raven or a cat or whatever animal it is. He’s constantly finding the randomest trinkets and just giving them you for no reason
He goes to the beach a lot on his own whenever he misses you because the salty air smells just like the crook of your neck and often comes back with a bunch of seashells, randomly shaped rocks and one time an actually alive sand dollar
You spent so long teaching him how to spot one that’s alive and one that’s dead so when he saw a sand dollar he got really excited at the idea of you being proud of him remembering the difference that he’d forgotten it
His favourite things are the seashells though. Why? Well, because he can turn them into cute jewellery for you, duh!
It started off as a silly little idea. He found a cute seashell and thought ‘what if I strung a piece of thread through this and made it a necklace for my beautiful hot gorgeous pretty siren mermaid cutie pie Y/N?’
He ended up doing it and you loved it so much he decided he’d make you a whole collection of seashell jewellery
The second time around, he made an actual chain for the necklace because you’re deserving of more than some lousy thread!!!
Then he began making bracelets and rings and earrings and all sorts of other things for you. Somehow, despite making so many of them, Leo managed to make them all unique in their own way. Your favourite, however, was the seashell locket he made you for one of your anniversaries
Inside of the locket is a picture you took together on the beach. It was from back when you were just friends, but you looked so gorgeous in it Leo couldn’t help but choose it for the necklace
Also, you guys are LITERALLY fireboy and watergirl
You’d had an epiphany one day whilst lying your head on his chest and the gasp you let out had Leo worried you were dying for a second
When you told him this, Leo was confused. Being in the foster care system at a young age then sent to wilderness school then doing demigod things left very little room for him to discover modern things other people his age liked
You immediately took him to the little computer you shared with Percy and opened up fireboy and watergirl (the OG game of course, not one of the newer editions) and taught him how to play
Honestly, Leo’s really bad at it. Like at first you thought he just needed to get the hang of it but then you reached the one year anniversary of when you first showed him FB & WG and he was STILL awful at it (also yes you know what day that is. You and Leo have anniversaries for everything)
“Leo!” You exclaimed, unable to watch as the try again prompt popped up on the screen. After about 50 times doing this level (which you had completed on your own before just fine), you’d finally gotten to the last hurdle when, of course, fireboy had to fall into the green slime
Leo pouted, once again prepared to fight his case, “Fireboy’s an idiot! It’s not my fault you get to control the smarter one out of the two!”
“Nuh, uh! Fireboy’s so much easier to control! He has the arrows, watergirl has WASD, which is way harder!”
“Fine, you control him, since he’s so easy to use!”
“But I’m Watergirl! I can’t have you killing me too!”
You’d have this conversation almost every single time you played the game. It got so bad one time Percy had to block the fireboy and watergirl website from the computer
Which was stupid because Leo’s literally a son of Hephaestus so all he had to do was touch the computer and it quickly became unbanned!
Also I think all children of Poseidon have an obscene amount of fish/sea animal merch. Specifically plushies
Leo stayed the night at your cabin once thinking ‘oh my Gods I’m gonna be sleeping with Y/N for the first time WTF WTF WTF!!!’ only to end up sleeping with Chelsea the starfish instead
He teased you a little at first but you’d refused to talk to him after that so he accepted them into the L/N-Valdez family (despite them hogging the bed 😒)
Now, he also defends the plushies like his life depends on it. If someone even DARES to utter a word against Haley the seahorse its ON SIGHT fr
He also keeps a mental note of all the names of your plushies to see if he can figure out a theme with the kinds of names you like for when you name your future baby but that’s a story for another day!
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pairing: dad!bucky barnes x au pair!reader
warnings: age gap (reader is 10 years younger than bucky), smut (18+, dni if under 18)
author’s note: sorry for the delay folks xx
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masterlist
now i wish we’d never met ‘cause you’re too hard to forget while i’m cleaning up your mess i know he’s taking off your dress and i know that you don’t but if i ask you if you love me i hope you lie to me
Bucky Barnes was a great many things, a paradox in a single man, many opposite things to different people. For some he was an angel, charity driven and ready to sacrifice himself for everything and everyone. For others, he was a demon, someone who was power driven, filled with the need for success and stepping on anyone he needed to be the first and the best. No matter what both thought, all agreed on one thing - Bucky Barnes was one hell of a charmer. He’d gotten that from his mother - old high class British charm, his father used to say. That combined with his looks made him irresistible to most people. Everyone flocked to him, everyone except for Y/N. She’d vanished from his side a bit later into the night and he hadn’t seen her since. Each time he thought to look for her, someone would need him or catch his attention.
Even with all that, he couldn’t find her. Y/N was an eye catching woman, she was beautiful and if she were anywhere near he would’ve found her. Instead, she was nowhere to be found and he was starting to get annoyed. He wanted to spend the evening with her, or at least he had intended to spend the evening with her, introducing her to the right people who could help her. He continued listening to whoever was talking to him right now - truth was, he wasn’t even sure who that person was. He just usually smiled and kept up simple talks, that was what was required of him so he would gladly keep doing it as long as it yielded results.
As for Y/N, she had almost forgotten who she was here with. Christopher Davis was someone who she always could picture herself with. He was smart, well spoken, well mannered and seemed to have an interest on her. Besides, he had gone through the same thing as her back at Columbia.
      - I’m just saying Professor Williams is a pain. - Chris laughed as Y/N explained what her supervisor had said. - If Professor Anderson likes you then you must be a bright student.  
      - Or maybe I’m just really daft. 
      - I don’t think so. - he smiled. - Sergeant Barnes doesn’t employ someone who doesn’t have promise. 
      - Except I don’t work for him ... I mean, not like you work for him, I’m just an au pair. I reckon the only criteria was are you a threat and are you good with children. 
      - How is it working with Sergeant Barnes if you don’t mind me asking?
Chris looked at her and then back at James whom he didn’t notice had been staring them down until now. He sighed, putting on his best smile, after all, he was trying to impress this girl. 
     - He’s uptight and a bit controlling but I guess you have to be if you want things to run smoothly. Specially when you work in advertising. 
     - That’s most CEOs isn’t it?
     - Yes but James Barnes is .. different. Sorry, I don’t mean to sound like a disgruntled employee. 
     - That is fine. Sergeant Barnes has got me on my nerves every once and again?
     - Is that so? - Y/N felt the blood drain from her face as she turned around to face her boss. She wasn’t afraid of him per say, but she also knew, she just knew he would probably be pissy for the rest of the evening. - Good evening Y/N, Mr. Davis. 
     - I will see you tomorrow, Y/N. - Chris smiled at the au pair.
To say Y/N was over the moon was a massive understatement. He liked her, at least she thought he liked her enough to invite her out. She didn’t think she still had it within her, she was usually busy looking over Sadie or with her postgraduate studies - that didn’t give her enough time to think about her sex and love life. That being said, maybe that explained why she was having the weird dreams and fantasies about James; familiarity. Right? It had to be that.
Bucky on the other hand felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. Chris was ... well, he didn’t know that much about Chris other than he came from money yet he couldn’t even blame him from that since he had come from money as well. He was just boring, Bucky found him boring. He didn’t take risks, at least not enough risks for someone who worked at advertising. He played it safe. It worked, but it wasn’t revolutionary. Still, Bucky didn’t like him. He definitely didn’t like him for Y/N either. Y/N was smart, innovative, caring and another bunch of positive adjectives which were too long to list. Chris was just boring.
     - So how’s that lady? - Y/N broke the silence between the two of them, a bit tipsy on the champagne which she wasn’t used to drinking.
     - What lady?
     - Delilah? - she looked up through her dizzy, tipsy mind, before snapping her fingers. - Delia. Yeah, that’s her name. How is Delia?
     - You would know if you weren’t busy flirting with my employees. 
     - Oh so you can flirt but I can’t?
     - Not when you’re with me. You’re embarrassing yourself and humiliating me.
     - But I’m not here with you, am I, sergeant? I am not your date, am I?
     - No. - he smiled forcefully. - However if I were going to flirt with someone I would pick someone less boring. 
     - You work in advertising, Sergeant. Everyone is boring. 
(...)
Bucky had never spent a whole night alone with Sadie, not when she was awake. Yet, here he was, left behind by his au pair so she could go and date boring Chris while he had to deal with a very hyper Sadie who was running around as if it wasn’t 8 o’clock yet. He usually had a babysitter or he had Y/N, or Steve yet right now he was by his lonesome. He thought she would’ve settled down if he played princesses, yet, she did not. Instead Bucky now had knotted hair, glitter on his face and probably some on his eye and permanent marker on his neck. He had finally given up and done the worse thing in the eyes of every parenting book - he’d given her a tablet loaded with all the Bluey seasons. Meanwhile he’d taken to watching re-runs of Mad Men. 
     - Bed? - he asked the curly haired ginger who looked up at him, her hair in front of her face. - I’ll give you 10 dollars?
     - No. - she replied before looking back at her tablet. Bucky sighed, looking up at the ceiling. Soon the terrible twos would be done and he’d have the terrifying threes. 
    - 20 dollars? - he said once again but she ignored him. He sighed, how come Y/N managed to do this? - Sadie, you can either go to bed or you can be tired tomorrow and not go to the park with Y/N. Choose. 
She looked at him with the death stare which she had inherited from him, but eventually got up, grabbing his hand. Bucky smiled, picking her up and walking to her bedroom. He pushed the sheets from her bed, carefully rolling her to her mattress before tucking her in, handing her a Bingo plushie. 
    - You want a story, babe? - he asked her, brushing her curls away from her forehead. - No?
    - Light?
    - I’ll turn your little moonlight on. - he kissed her forehead. - I love you, Sisi bug. 
She smiled at him and it was enough for him to know she meant she loved him too. He tucked her once more before turning off the main light, leaving the room softly lit by the nightlight. Slowly and softly he went up the stairs, grabbing a wick basket and started collecting toys onto it. She had too many toys, still he wouldn’t stop buying them. As he finished it, Bucky sat back down on the couch. He was annoyed. Why did she even go out with that prick? The only thing they had in common was an alma matter and god knows Chris was a legacy student so it wasn’t like he tried as hard to get into university like Y/N had. God, he hated him. Hated how bland and boring he was. 
He toyed around with the remote, trying to find something that would get his head out of the idea of goddamn Christopher Davis trying to get her out of the practically translucent dress she had been wearing. Bucky could swear she did it on purpose, just to show off to him in those strap heels and short sheer black dress like a temptress. He changed channels once more, hoping he’d find something ... maybe a pay per view porn channel or something. Yet nothing took his mind of his au pair, his employee who he should have some professionalism with, and that stupid lacy bra he could make out under that dress. Dressing up like that for goddamn Davis. 
He stared at his phone, watching as hours passed yet nothing fulfilled. Eventually, Bucky made a mistake, a huge, massive mistake. A mistake which fulfilled itself as he opened the door to show Delia. He handled things badly but right now he needed his fill. 
His lips attacked hers as they stumbled towards the bedroom, Bucky locking the door behind him. This was a bad habit, a terrible habit but her lips felt good, her taste was tempting and Bucky wasn’t the one to have good habits. However, today, things were ... different. Her lips leaving lipstick marks on his neck didn’t feel the same. Maybe this was a mistake. He shouldn’t really have a woman in the house when his daughter was asleep upstairs. 
   - Are you alright? - Delia pulled away from him.
Bucky blinked, he had to be going ... stir crazy. Maybe he’d drank a bit too much whiskey but her features morphed and he could swear that in place of the woman he usually called whenever he needed release, stood the woman he wanted to be here now. The sheer dress a vivid memory in the back of his mind. He ignored her question, moving to kiss her neck and putting his hand over her mouth. His fantasies took full front stage as his mind drew a different reality.
All he could see was her, red lips open wide with soft, high pitched moaned as he kissed down her body, doing away with her dress and her underwear. He wanted to mark her, he wanted to mark this vision of a woman he craved. His hands found the top of his joggers, pushing it down as if he were a horny mess. His cock was painfully hard, slapping against his stomach as he stood over her, this vision of Y/N. All he could think of were all the times she saw her, the outline of her breasts, her collarbones. He didn't pace himself, instead lining up with the woman's entrance before he gripped her hips and slide himself in, without much a second of though. The feeling made him grown, he was insane he reckoned, insane because he knew this wasn't her but all he could see is her. The soft moans, the contracted muscles. He fucked her hard and rough until he felt his release approach. Once he did, he slide himself off, jerking off and coming on her stomach, rolling to the side of the bed. He stared at the ceiling fan of the guest bedroom, his mind lulling him back to reality ... all he could think when that moment was once simple thing - Fuck Chris Davis. 
(...)
Y/N didn’t spend the night. He noticed that in the morning as he was getting prepared from work and saw her walk in, with her dress crimped and hair barely brushed. His blood bubbled. If she wanted to fuck old money, she could’ve fucked him. 
    - Had your release? - he knew he was being mean now, just looking to stir the pot. - Fun night?
    - Why? Need some new jerking off material? - she crossed her arms, speaking in a manner and language that almost made him spit his coffee. - Who’s taking Sadie to school?
    - Well, if you can still walk I’d say he did a pretty shit job, huh?
    - I guess I’m taking Sadie to school. - she rolled her eyes. - And it’s none of your business.
    - Well my employee is fucking another one of my employees. Maybe you should go to HR. 
    - Maybe I should and tell them that the boss is acting like an ass. Are you seriously still upset at me that I flirted with someone at your weird benefit? I’m single, I’m allowed to flirt!
    - Not with Chris Davis. Seriously, Y/N, get a better taste in men. 
    - Because you have such a great taste in women. - she poured herself a cup of coffee. - Since you’re dressed, maybe you should take Sadie to school and see your favourite ego boosting group the PTA mums. 
    - Maybe I will.
    - Picking Sadie up from school or do you want me to?
    - Steve’s picking her up.
    - Steve?
Steve. 
////////////////////////////////////
taglist : @talesofadragon @themermaidscales82​ @winters1917​ @vladsgirlxx​
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caramelcleopatraa · 6 months
Text
i. SUIT & TIE
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word count: 1,700~
x: this fic idea won in the polls :) this series was inspired by kayjayxchar on wattpad ( she's A1 ) and then while writing, I decided to make this into sort of a series. no smut in this part ( I know I know, its such a tragedy! ) but don't underestimate what I got in the works :p not proofread... yet
content: Mafia!Roman Reigns x Designer!Reader, fluff, suggestive themes ( gets a lil steamy ;) )
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 Your fingers type away at your computer, responding to emails from your clients. Your employees are setting up the shop, preparing for another busy day. You were one of the top rated designers in the state of Florida. You’ve been able to travel around the country teaching classes, working your magic for top notch celebrities, and make public appearances. To cut it short, you were living your best life, truly. You got to do what you were passionate about and go against the standard of your families’ traditions and values. You were proud of yourself that you are successful as you are. The chime of your door interrupts your thoughts as a group of people walk into your shop before opening time.
“Wassup biiiiiittch!” One of your closest friends, Trinity, was the first to make herself known. She throws herself on you, and you welcome her sudden embrace. She often visited you at your shop to check on you in her free time, and you always welcomed her company, especially on busy days. Today however, she was coming to you as a client. Because she was your friend and today was one of your busiest days, you told her to come an hour and a half early before you opened. That gave you plenty of time to fit your friends, clean up, and open on time. You scan the group that entered through the door with her. You saw Trinity, her husband Jimmy, his twin Jey and his wife Talia. Your eyes shifted to the larger frame that stood behind them, that was accompanied by a shorter, voluptuous woman. It was someone you knew too well. Anyone that lived in Florida had to know his name. Roman Reigns. standing next to him, was what looked like a model, which you would later know to be De’arra. The group of six admired your shop, casually walking around and scouting different designs that were displayed on the walls. 
Men’s Side
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Women’s Side 
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“No matter how many times I come in here, I'm always shocked. Is this new?” Jey says, pointing to the gray suits on your model displays. “Yeah, new in stock. Ya like it?” You sing shakily as Trinity rocked you to death. “Can I take this off ya hands?” “You can after i fit you” You chuckled at his eagerness.
“Annyways..” Talia says, pushing her way through Jimmy and Jey. “This is Roman. I told him that I know a really good designer that can whip up an amazing suit. So he’s here to get fitted as well as the rest of us.” Talia explains to you, while you finish typing up your last email. You look up to find him staring at you. You notice his chocolate brown eyes and brown skin that complimented each other. You try your best to not let that distract you as you reach your hand towards him. You didn’t think he would’ve actually shaken your hand due to how cold people described him to be. You contentedly grinned when his warm hand engulfed yours. “Nice to meet you, beautiful” “Nice to meet you too, handsome.” ‘oh my god he’s so damn fine. how am i supposed to stay professional around this man!??’
Your poker face stayed true as you continued to engage with your client. De’arra, stayed close to him, latched on at the arm. She pulled on his arm to get his attention, but he simply dismissed her by saying “Wait over there for me sweets”, and she happily obliged. 
“So how does this whole thing work?” He says, tugging at his black tee. “You’ve never gotten fitted here before and my place runs a little differently than most. We have our scheduled appointments set up so that we can fit our clients, try on potential outfits for you, and send you home with them hours later. There’s a huge inventory that I have attached to this store so as soon as I get done recording your requests, we can get your order started as soon as possible. Any questions?” Roman smiles smugly and looks at Talia “She’s good.” Talia retaliates with “I told you so.” You blushed at their nice comments. To you, it didn’t seem like much. You were simply explaining how your company works so that your client has a basic rundown of how things work. Trinity nudged your shoulder as soon as she noticed your flustered state. You covered your face and did a quick spin, a little habit that formed when you get flustered. The group laughed at your small action. You snapped back into business mode and called your assistant to help you distribute the party of five.
“Aahkilah, can you help me with this party of five?”
 “Coming!” She galloped out to the main area with a work outfit that was damn near cutting dress code, but you didn’t have time to deal with that shit right now. “You can take the couples since they have been fitted before. Be flexible enough to make changes on the spot if our presets don’t fit like they’re supposed to. I’ll take Roman and do the whole process since he’ll be new information in the system.” She was fairly new, and you didn’t trust her just yet with doing an entire fitting appointment on a new client. Plus, you could tell everything that you were saying was going over her head as she basically eye-fucked your client. “But that’s not fairrrruuh! why can’t I take him?” she says, almost mimicking a complaining child. Your eyes close slowly as you sigh and respond “Because you’re not ready to give a full fitting appointment yet.” 
You wanted to put a nail in this conversation so you could do your job. But, this woman had a damn mission. “You just wanna get him in your private fitting room and fuck him!! You’re not slic-" “ He came here for a fitting! A fitting done by me girl! It was his request. Please don’t make me have to deal with a child right now.” You were starting to get loud, so you didn’t go back and forth with her like you usually would to whip that bitch into shape. The twins were barely succeeding at hiding their laughter as well as Talia. Roman and Trinity wore smirks on their faces as you reprimanded your employee. She finally buckled down and made sure that the room was ready for the couples. You called in another employee, Gio, to help you with your workload online while you fit your client.
“Oh my god who is that-“ You hit her and stop her sentence and she looks at you like you're crazy. “What!? He’s fine as fuck!” You mentally facepalm as she tries to whisper to you, that ends up more like a whisper scream. “Mhm” You said, as you went behind your desk and pulled up some work for her to do. “Oh don’t tell me you don’t think he’s fine! isn’t he right up your alley? Tall? muscular? deep voice? beard? The whole nine?” You took pride in the fact that you took time to know your employees on a personal level. You did not think she was going to air out all of the information you told her however. You gave Gio a look that screamed ‘shut the FUCK up’ and she responded to your look by playfully rolling her eyes. You turn the computer towards her. “You’re here to get a bag, not play matchmaker” She groans in response and says “Whatever.” to your dismissive comment. ‘she did not have to embarrass me like that. OMG WHAAT THE FU-‘
“The whole nine huh?” You hear a deep voice mirror your employee’s statement. You turn around to face Roman, the corner of his lips still curled into that mind melting smirk. He motioned up and down his body, trying to fluster you. Your eyes drift over his muscular body. “Little ole me?” ‘LITTLE?’ 
“Little?” Your face contorted into a confused expression, that earns a laugh out of the tall samoan. He starts to walk towards you, decreasing the amount of space between you too. Your momma ain’t raise no bitch so you stood your ground… well, you tried. You could clearly distinguish the height difference between you and him, and your head raised as your eyes met his. Your hand rested on your hip and your head tilted, slightly sizing him up. “Sir, I will let you know that this is a professional business.” You said, ending off your sentence with a smirk. Just as you expected, he challenged you back, “Well I'm not invading your personal space, am I?” He said, as the corner of his lips tugged to form another smirk. Anyone in the room would have felt the tension and both of you were desperately waiting on someone to make a move. “Nah, i just don't want a wannabe gangsta playboy fucking up my reputation.” His eyes fluttered closed as he laughed at your statement. You had amused him and peaked his interest. He closed the gap between you two. His breath ghosted over your lips as he said, “So you must know i’m good at fucking something else up, huh?” His eyes glazed over your soft lips, coated with lip gloss. You took a moment to gather yourself before prompting another response. ”Well I wouldn't know cause it’s just rumors.” You shrugged your shoulders looking off to the side. 
“You know how those be.”
“Mhm” He licked his lips. From how close you guys were, you were surprised that his tongue didn't make contact with your bottom lip. “What they been saying about me ma?”
“That apparently you’re good in bed” You raised your pointer and middle fingers bent to imitate quotation marks.
“Mhm, keep going”
“Boy ion know, I really don't be concerned with you.” Your hand returned to your hip. Your attitude started to shine through. 
“Maybe it’s because I haven't taken care of you yet sweetheart” He leans down to whisper the sentence in your ear. You feel his lips lightly touch your ear and your entire body froze. 
You huffed, and said “You say that like you're so sure of yourself.” You challenged his boldness, but nothing could prepare you for what he said to you next.
“Maybe when we hit this fitting room, I can show you how sure I am”
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deeeefinitely meant to post this last week but finals and grades got me one more time. I'm on break for the rest of the month so I can try my hand at being consistent. let me know if you want to be added to my taglist and how you guys like part 1!
~ your hippie author
🏷️ tags :) @harmshake
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cocogum · 5 months
Text
Yugo and Amalia’s relationship is much more complicated than you think.
Sometimes I wonder what Amalia meant when she said “Nothing is impossible.” at Yugo’s explanation of why they couldn’t be together.
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Like I know you want that eliatrope ass but he’s got a point shawty.
What do you think would’ve happened if he got into a relationship earlier on with you??? Can you imagine how it would’ve looked like?? My god there would be so much drama and rumours in the Sadida kingdom….but like really big ones to the point where it wouldn’t sound funny or entertaining anymore, but just criminal 💀
Also, how is she gonna….you know? Do anything to him? Sure, Yugo’s mentally a man but he still has a 10-year-old body.
Did Amalia not think this through when she told him “Nothing is impossible.”???? Either she said that because she genuinely only wanted to keep things pure with him besides hand-holding and kissing, or she’s just a really freaky bitch in bed.
There can’t be anything else, it’s either one of them or she just said that without thinking.
Imagine being a servant in her kingdom if Yugo did get together with her before season 3…..I love drama but I don’t wanna get scarred for life, there’s a limit.
Amalia would legit be the scariest one in the relationship though. Like it’s cute and very loyal of her to accept him even if he doesn’t look like a grown man but if you’re fine getting tongue kissed by him ON THE MOUTH when he looks like a minor AND you don’t care what others say, then you’re a menace to society. I wouldn’t even be worried for Yugo, I’d just be worried for everyone else’s sake. (Before ppl come for my ass, dw i loved the yumalia kiss cuz no one was around them-)
Some people are saying that Yugo’s reason for not being with her is bs because “love is love” and “Yugo can just explain that his race ages slowly to people”.
When in actuality, it’s all very much more complicated than it already looks.
In fact, their relationship could raise so many problems and conflicts that I decided to list them up for you. Here are the following reasons why these two being together can go very wrong:
1) Amalia isn’t a normal Sadida. She’s a PRINCESS of the SADIDA KINGDOM. Marriage isn’t just some event that happens and then ends. It won’t look like the one Dally and Eva had. Royal marriages are a bigger deal than they let on and it’s a public thing to witness.
2) Amalia is a public and authoritative figure. Meaning that if she were to marry Yugo, the whole world would know that she got with a man who’s stuck in a child’s body. Sure, even if Yugo explained the situation to the other nations, this would still look very weird and off-putting for the others to see. People would still wonder why (and especially how) Amalia fell in love with Yugo when he looks like that. They would definitely start asking questions. Not to mention that if Amalia were to showcase who she loves to the world, plenty of sick twisted people would see their relationship and feel encouraged to continue their behavior (you know exactly what kind of ppl I’m talking about here). And if those same disgusting people got caught doing immoral things with children, they would just point fingers at Amalia and say “But if she does it, how come I can’t?”. They’d start blaming her for their actions, making her look even worse to the public.
3) No matter how you look at their relationship, the only ones who would genuinely feel comfortable witnessing them together would be Ruel, Eva, Dally, Adamaï, and even Elely and Flopin. They know Yugo and Amalia on a personal level because they have all been through so much with these two that they know exactly how they are and know that Amalia isn’t the type to take advantage of Yugo like that. But if the rest of the world were to see them like this? That’s a hard no.
4) Amalia claims that she doesn’t care what other people think. That means she wouldn’t be ashamed or shy to give Yugo affection out in public, she definitely feels like the type to do public displays of affection with her significant other. Who knows who could see them together? Teenagers, adults, senior citizens, but especially the children who would pass by them and be too confused to understand why a grown woman is kissing a ‘child’ like that.
5) Her family (which currently consists of Armand and Aurora) would immediately stop her from getting together with Yugo. Because yes, her family would also be a problem. (I was surprised that I didn’t see a lot of people mention the Sadida family to be another factor against their relationship.) Armand is too much of a strict brother. He won’t be easy to sway and he always says what he thinks. He’d immediately (and clearly) explain to Amalia that this decision of hers is a very disgusting and shocking one. The idea of throwing harsh words at her wouldn’t seem very far-fetched for Armand to do. Not only that, but he’d also start to become very strict on her, wanting to know her whereabouts at all times and make sure that her time outside of the kingdom is limited since he now knows he can’t trust her when it comes to what types of men she loves and especially who she’s friends with. Aurora, on the other hand, is already very manipulative so she’d most likely side with her husband on everything that he says when it comes to Amalia.
6) And last but not least, her relationship with Yugo would make the royal Sadida family look extremely bad in front of the other kingdoms and nations. Like I said before, since Amalia is a public/authoritative figure due to her royal status, her choices to inflict any action has a chance to make her family look bad. The same can be said for Armand too if he did anything without thinking.
So in short, not only would Amalia and Yugo’s relationship look weird and wrong to the world no matter what Yugo says, but their relationship could also affect and hurt a lot of people if these two are not careful or aware of how they’d look like, especially Amalia.
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thedramaticwriter1 · 6 months
Text
Bubbles
(Dean x Reader)
Summary: Dean walks in on you taking a bath. 
Character count: 2.9K+
Warnings: a tad of self deprecating dean.
A/N: a little bit of angst, a little bit of fluff, a little bit of bad writing, what more could you ask for?  
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The warm water feels heavenly as you slowly lower you and your aching muscles into the tub. This last week might have been one of the most difficult hunts you’ve ever had in your life, with taking down what you initially thought was a singular vampire, and ended up being an entire nest. Luckily, this hunt Sam and Dean had both accompanied you, even though you had fought with them to stay home. “I can handle a vampire on my own” you had told them over and over again the days before you left. Dean had argued that he’s not saying you couldn’t, but he had had a bad feeling about this one and insisted both brothers tag along. Knowing there was nothing you could do to change his mind, you caved and let them join. Thank Chuck you did, or you definitely would’ve turned into a vamp yourself, or at the very least, the meal for one. 
The vampires of the nest you were unaware of had kidnapped you while you were out on a supply run, the brothers waiting for you back at the motel you were staying at. Two days you were missing, until, finally, Sam and Dean were able to tract you down, half dead in an abandoned building that was the nest for over a dozen vampires. The boys were able to finish the rest of the vampires and drag your blood-drained body out of the nest, scared to death that you were gone. You were unconscious for 36 hours after that and finally woke up in the bunker, not knowing what had happened. 
Dean had been the one to explain everything, and you knew true terror had plagued him those hours you were out, noting the lack of sleep under his eyes and the stubble he had neglected to shave off. You tried your best to reassure him that you were okay, that you always were okay in the end. But even you were still reeling by the events that had happened. You were always the one that saved people, never had you been the one that needed to be saved. 
Today was the first day that you were able to actually get out of bed with no help. Arms and legs still shaking with weakness and disuse, you walked with the assistance of walls and furniture to the bathroom. Once you stood in the mirrors reflection, you began to take stock of yourself. 
Your skin was pale, bags were prevalent under your eyes, and you had definitely dropped some weight during your recovery, noting that Deans’ t-shirt that you used as pajamas hung around your frame more loosely than it had before. Shaking you head, you looked away from the mirror and your gazed landed on the bath tub. You knew you were to unsteady for a shower, but you needed to clean yourself up, and a bath would probably require just enough energy you would be able to muster up right now. Slowly, you made your way over to the bathtub and sat on the edge, already lightheaded from all the movement. You plugged the drain before turning on the warm water and adding deans soap to the water, not caring about your retinue of bath related items under the sink. “This isn’t a relaxing bath” you told yourself, “this is a glad to be alive bath. You don’t need epson salt and a bath bomb”. 
Moving slowly, you removed your t-shirt and underwear, all the while staying sat at the edge of the tub. “The last thing you need is to fall and smack your head. You don’t have enough blood right now to lose it through a head wound” your inner dialogue rambled. 
The tub filled up fast and you turned off the faucet and shakily sunk into the water, waiting until you were completely submerged to finally relax. The warm water sunk into your worn out muscles and began to draw out some of the exhaustion that had plagued you these last couple of days. 
You don’t know how long you sat there, not even bothering to scrub your skin or wash your hair, when you heard the door to your bedroom open and close. Dean must had noticed the light on in the bathroom because a few seconds later there was a small knock on the door and it opened slowly. He peeked his head in and once he saw you in the bathtub, he slipped into the room fully. 
He walked over to the rim of the tub and lowered himself on the rug that laid on the floor, sitting adjacent to you, stretching one leg out and bending the other one at the knee, where he rested his arm. The other hand he stretched out, moving a piece of hair off of your brow.
“Sweetheart, you should have told me you wanted to take a bath. I would have helped you” he said as his brows furrowed but continued stroking your forehead. 
“I didn’t want to bother you, and as you can see, I made it here all by myself” you replied, lifting your hands out of the bubble-filled water in a ta-da gesture. 
He huffed his air out.“Yeah, and how many times did you almost faint trying to get in here?” He questioned, while starring at you with those green eyes of his. The same ones you could never lie to no matter how hard you tried. 
“Well I think the more important thing to note is that, regardless, I made it and I did it all by myself” you replied, completely dogging his question, casting your eyes down to the bubbles that swirled around. 
“Y/N…… how many times?” He lowered his hand to your chin and forced you to look back at him. 
“Only like twice, which honestly is like none at all, so no big deal”. You smirked up at him with fake amusement. You knew he would be highly concerned if you told him how it actually felt to get up and walk in here, like death itself. But you didn’t want to add on to the burden you knew he already felt. He had already told you once when you woke up that he knew he was to blame for the kidnapping. That he should have gone with you on that supply run and if he had, none of this would have happened. You had reassured him multiple times that you didn’t blame him, or Sam, and that it was absolutely not his fault. But it didn’t matter. The guilt was there. You could feel it radiating off of him in waves, and at this point, there was very little that could be said or done to change his mind. 
He shook his head and he redrew his hand from you, using it to start drawing shapes in the now dissipating bubbles that floated around. He stayed quiet for some time, but you knew he was building up to say something, and you were gonna give him the time he needed to collect his thoughts. 
“I’m sorry”. Was all he said, with no explanation after. You waited for him to continue, but he didn’t.  
“Dean, we’ve been over this. Nothing that happened was your fault. I’m not going to accept an apology from you when you have no reason to give one to me.” You tried to move up off the back of the porcelain tub so you could reassure him, but you forgot for a second how weak you were, and you couldn’t move as fast as you normally could. Your vision went hazy and your limbs failed you, your arms plopping pathetically back into the water. 
“Look, you can barely move, that’s all my fault!” He gestured with his hands, shaking his head in frustration. Not at you, but at himself. That never ending self deprecation of his showing its ugly face. You and him have been together for two years, and though he has gotten better at not beating himself up for everything he thinks he fails at, he hasn’t gotten rid of the habit completely. And every now and then, the negative thoughts towards himself about not being good enough and deserving punishment for actions out of his control always pops up. This is definitely one of those times. 
Again, you try to slide up the tub, this time more slowly and deliberately, giving your arms time to catch up. Once you’ve pulled yourself higher out of the water, you’re able to turn and face him some what directly. 
“Look at me”. You say as you reach to grab his arm, but he moves out of my reach, your hand falling onto the edge of the tub.
“No Y/N, I know what you're gonna say” he says as he moves away from you and stands up. “You’re going to say that it wasn’t my fault, that we couldn’t have known what was going to happen. That not every situation needs someone to blame, cause sometimes the universe just happens, but you know what? Thats a load of bullshit and you know it. I knew what could happen the second you walked out that door and yet I still let you go alone. I knew better, my gut knew better, and still I did nothing about it. That is the very definition of a ‘its completely your fault’ fuck up”. 
“Dean……” you start to say as you try to reason with him.
“No, no. Stop trying to make me feel better, because honestly, I don’t fucking deserve it. It took me two days to find you. TWO. DAYS. I’ve told you our whole relationship that no matter what I would protect you and when it came down to it, I failed. Miserably. I’m not worthy of you. I don’t deserve you, and had you not survived Y/N, I definitely would have found a way to make me pay for it”.
You sit there in complete disbelief, mouth hanging wide open. You knew to some extent what he was feeling about this whole situation, but you didn’t fully comprehend how guilty he thought he was. You’re shocked to say the least, but more so than that, you’re pissed.
Seconds go by as he stands there, breathing in and out trying to calm himself down and that’s all it takes for your resolve to  harden.
“Come sit down” you say, as you level your voice and point back to the rug he had previously occupied. “Now”. 
He knows the tone in your voice and he knows that arguing is only going to piss you off further. Accepting the tiny defeat, he sits back down on the rug, close enough that your hands are able to find the sides of his face. 
“I don’t ever, EVER, want to hear you talking about yourself like this, especially implying that you would somehow find a way to hurt yourself. I don’t care what has happened, I don’t care who was at fault. I love you, and that means that there is nothing you could do that would require forgiveness from me because I’ve already forgiven you for anything and everything you could ever do. But for this…” I shake my hands a little so he fully understand what I’m saying, “This does not need forgiveness, because this was not your fault. If anything, I should be saying sorry to you. For not being the hunter I needed to be. For not being the hunter that should have noticed something was off before they took me. I put us in this situation.” 
He pushes to protest, but you move a hand to cover his mouth.
“No Dean, I don’t want to hear it. I have the right to take the blame for this as much as you do. You know why? Because you were the one who got me out, Dean. You could have been hurt or killed, and yet you and Sam still risked everything to save me.” 
His eyes begin to water as he places a hand on top of yours that still rests on his cheek. “Of course I had to rescue you, Sweetheart. I love you. Don’t know what I would without you.” 
You breathe a sigh of relief, “Then please stop beating yourself up over this. It’s unbearable to see you feel so guilty for something you had no control over.” 
He nods his head as he closes his eyes, those built up tears finally spilling down his cheeks as he rests his forehead against yours. You know this isn’t the end of this. He’s not done hating himself. He’ll carry this around for awhile, and he’ll try to do it quietly and by himself. 
He’s crazy if he thinks you’ll let him go through that alone.
Both of you stay like this for a few minutes, soaking each other up. But the water has grown tepid and the bubbles had disappeared during your talk and you start to shiver in the cold air of the bathroom. He notices right away. 
“You cold? You wanna get out?” He questions as he wipes his eyes with the sleeve of the flannel he’s wearing.
“Yes, please” is your response as he quickly stands up to grab a towel that’s located under the sink. “I’m gonna need some help” you sheepishly say while ducking your head. Admitting you needed help had never been your strong suit, even when you’re not recovering from a vampire attack.
“It’s okay baby, that what I’m here for” he whispers as he grips both of his arms under your shoulders and lifts you out of the tub in one soothe movement. You arms wrap around his shoulders on instinct.“Do you think you're able to stand here for a second?” He questions you as he takes the full weight of your body. 
“Yeah, just give me minute” you say, as you close your eyes and will away the dizziness that threatens to take over. He stands there with you, your head on his chest, your hair soaking into his shirt as he waits for you to stand on your own. Slowly, your legs straighten out and are able to bear the brunt of your weight. He feels the shift in you and moves one hand out from under you and places it on your back. “You good, baby?” He asks as he starts rubbing soothing circles there.
“Yeah, I’m good” you respond as he slowly moves you away from him to stand up straight. He reaches to grab the towel he placed on the counter while also keeping one hand on your arm, steading you and ready to catch you if necessary. He uses it quickly to dry you off. Wrapping the towel around you when he’s done, he unplugs the drain and places one arm under your knees and the other on your back and around your shoulder. One smooth movement, and he’s carrying you out of the bathroom back to your bedroom.
Normally opposed to looking so weak, you let him help you as much as possible, knowing that being in control is how he copes with these situations. And with the energy spent to just get in the bathtub, you doubt you could walk back to your bed, even with his help. 
With steady steps he takes you back into your room and to your bed. He places you gently on top and tells you not to go anywhere. “Don’t think I could even if I wanted to” was your snarky reply as you sat there in your towel. He huffs as he walks over to your dresser and rummages around until he pulls out one of his t-shirts. 
“I don’t remember letting you borrow this one” he says as he lifts up his favorite Led Zeppelin shirt.
You silently curse yourself, totally forgetting that you had snuck that out of his room the week before you left for this hunt. “No, you definitely gave me that one, don’t you remember?” You say and you can’t even get it out with a straight face, letting a giggle slip past your lips. 
“Mmmmmhhhmmm” he says with a slight smirk as he walks back over to stand in front of you. “Normally, I would get mad cause I really love this shirt, but I think you’ve won yourself a free pass this week, don’t you sweetheart?” You smile at him sadly as he sighs and unwraps the towel off of you and places the shirt over you head. Arm by arm he situates the shirt until its resting comfortably on your form. 
“You hungry?” He asks as he rubs your shoulders in an attempt to warm you up faster.
“Not really. But I could absolutely take a killer nap right now” you smile at him as he gives your shoulders a loving squeeze. 
“Then let’s get you to bed” he says and he starts to lay you back on the bed and under the covers. 
“Will you stay with me?” You look up into his green eyes. He leans down and places a kiss in the middle of your forehead. 
“Sweetheart, there is no where else I would rather be.” 
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sailboatdreamer · 2 months
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Back to the Night We Met
Hello! I'm Arcadia (she/her) and this is my first fic <3 i loved the holdovers so much it actually drove me to writing especially because of the lack of Angus fics rn :) Ill definitely continue it if people are interested, i have a pretty good idea of where to take it, this is just setup.
-You are a female student from a sister school who has to board over at Barton for the holidays, Mary comes to pick you up, and you have a first impression of all the boys- 859 words - slight blood mention.-
Angus reminded me of many men i had known, in various ways, throughout my life. Cold at first, brash, defensive- but equally in need of a love that was not easily accessible.
The first time i had ever met Angus, it was Christmas of 1970. The corresponding sister-school to Barton, Ada’s School for Girls, had just let out all the girls for winter break, except of course myself, who was doomed to two weeks of almost complete solitude. My only recompense being the books in the library, and my carefully hidden ration of cigarettes given to me by a friend as a Christmas gift.
I’d assumed that my stay at Ada would be chaperoned by one of the sisters from the convent, as they lived on campus and were usually the go-to call for holdover students, however when it came time to say goodbye, an unfamiliar face was awaiting me outside the aching, old oak doors.
“Hello young lady, I believe you’re staying with us this time.” Boston accent.
A beautiful woman, with a soft spoken voice, stood up against a powder-blue Impala, cigarette between her fingers. I came to learn that this lady was Mary Lamb. She was a cook from Barton, who’d elected to stay over the holidays due to the untimely and tragic death of her young boy, Curtis, a student. In her words, she felt going home would’ve abandoned his memory during this time that meant so much to both of them. As she drove me to Barton she explained i’d be staying with the other male holdovers due to ‘administrative difficulties’ whatever that meant
Quickly sensing my discomfort with this idea she said “Listen, you let me know if those little shitheads give you a hard time okay? My quarters are just past the dorms, near the garden.” i nodded appreciatively, smiling at her choice of language. It was surprising to hear it from such a demure lady, but Mary’s streak of subtle rebellion ultimately made her one of my favourite people i ever got to know through my school years.
When we arrived to Barton, Mary directed me towards the infirmary, as it was the last room in the entire building that had any heating, as i approached the door there was a clear noise of a scuffle going on inside. I gently pressed the door open, beat-up suitcase in my hand, glasses pushed to my nose. Two of the older boys were hitting each-other wildly, although it really seemed more girlish than i assumed boys fought. The minute they saw me, they got up and hastily tried to straighten out their shirts.
“Who are you!? The fuck-a girl?” A blonde boy, blue eyes, very irritating.
A rally of small, meek, lower-year boys stood around the room, just watching. The other boy who i’d seen flinging punches on the blonde was seething, he had a little blood running down his cheek, and he didn’t really acknowledge me, he seemed too focused on whatever his next chance was to knock the blonde’s lights out.
“Hello…..” i wave shyly, putting my suitcase by a free bed.
”hi, hello,- um-hi” the room grumbles back at me.
The air in the room is thick, and tense. Worried, nervous glances are passed between myself and the rest of the room for what feels like endless minutes before someone breaks the silence. “Do…. do you need help with your bags.” a nervous mutter from the boy who’d previously not acknowledged my arrival. And i actually did. Some of my books i insisted on bringing, assuming i’d have a boring two weeks had been a weight on my luggage. “Yeah… yeah i’d appreciate that. Thank you.” He follows me out, leaving the other boys to debrief among themselves. As we wander down the long, aging halls, and the noise of the infirmary grows quieter, i try to break the tension. “so….I’m (y/n).. i go to Ada,and uh- our nuns, shacked up for the winter apparently so that’s why i’m here. I met Mary, she’s… she’s really sweet” As i speak he nods gently, listening before speaking. “I’m Angus. And that (he points back at the infirmary) was Teddy Koutnze. Resident dickhead. The other kids i don’t know so well, they’re first years but-… they’re not too bad.” It was my turn to listen this time, as we walk i study the features on his face. Strong, angular features and deep, brown eyes, nearly carvaggian. He helps me with my other bags, opting to take the heavier one for me kindly, but as he’s picking it up, i again notice the blood on the side of his face. Without a second thought, i reach out to touch it, as i would’ve for any of the girls back at Ada. “You’re bleeding….”
His hand immediately rushes to his cheek, and i notice as his cheeks flush red, i recognise my mistake and apologize hurriedly “Oh-sorry, i-uh…” i try to brush off the blood on my skirt, and i we struggle to meet eyes “its… its okay” He grumbles, not meeting my eyes, we both walk back awkwardly, i know my face is flushed and i internally curse myself for doing something so careless. We share in the silence and a little smeared blood on our fingertips.
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spatialwave · 10 days
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"baby, don't you know? that you're my golden hour."
pairing: pre-war!cooper howard x ftm!actor!reader word count: 2.5k summary: being an up-and-coming actor had you fighting tooth and nail for opportunities. you were young, though, still had much to learn and people to impress. you were surprised when cooper howard took it upon himself to mentor you. the cowboy star supported you through thick & thin — a light in your life that reminded you everything would be alright. warnings/tags: sfw, implied transphobia, angst, grief, mention of death, hurt/comfort, fluff. notes: as a transmasc enby, i get very passionate writing ftm!reader stories. this had been sitting in my brain for awhile, so thank you to anon for sending an ask that kicked my ass into gear and write it!
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“what do you mean? they told me last week that i had the goddamn job,” your voice was loud and snappy, jaw clenching as you fell back into the chair with a heavy thud, “i did three goddamn auditions and even did a table read, now they’re saying i’m not the right fit? what the hell is that supposed to mean? i put in the fucking work already.”
you were sitting in your agent’s office full of luxury furniture, expensive paintings and the gaudiest decorations. with a red face, you huffed as he explained to you the situation at hand.
your next movie had dropped you as the supporting actor. it would’ve given you enough screen time for it to be your real breakthrough role and shoot you up into the fame and glory you’d been fighting for.
“well,” your agent sighed, leaning forward against his desk, “there’s been word going around about you.”
defensive, you furrowed your brows in confusion, “what word?”
he’d grown uncomfortable, putting one leg over the other as he rested into his chair and thought about what to say next. he needed to be careful with his words, seeing that you had been ready to knock shit off of his desk if he angered you anymore.
“i think you should read this,” he murmured, filtering through papers on his desk until he grabbed a folded newspaper and pushed it toward you.
your heart sank as you snatched the paper, eyes wide and shaky when you read the front page. it was all about you. your deadname was plastered in large text as the article detailed your past that you had gone lengths to keep out of the public eye.
you changed your name, moved away from home and started your transition quietly. you had done everything to make sure that people perceived you the way you wanted.
but life was never that easy.
your eyes settled on a few words, ‘a trusted source confirmed.’ thoughts ran through your mind, thinking of any person who you’d grown up with, family members, ex-friends—anyone who would be willing to spill career-ruining information for a quick lump of cash. 
“i had no idea—“ your agent spoke, but you cut him off.
“i was hoping to keep it that way until i was in a damn grave” you said, voice calm but cheeks red and breath heavy, “fuck this.”
there was nothing worth sticking around for, who the hell would want to hire you now? there were too many close-minded people in the world, and you could already imagine the headlines of them lumping you right in with the opposition. a trans, american communist.
fucking christ.
the following week you isolated yourself in your apartment, high-end and expensive. you couldn’t even feel comfortable in your own home because the looming possibility of being unable to pay rent was alive and very real. you stayed in your bed, wondering how on earth you thought you’d be able to careen through life without anyone finding out.
you were lucky that your mother supported you every step of the way when you were a young, confused teen. she helped you navigate your feelings and even urged you to talk to a professional. one year later, you’d started testosterone injections.
she passed three years ago, leaving you with nothing but her memories and the devastating reality that you’d be alone from here on out. you always hoped your secret died with her.
you melted away on your bed as the sound of thunder boomed loudly and shook your apartment, rotting into nothingness. sleep was on the horizon, but you’d been interrupted by a buzzing sound vibrating from your intercom. you didn’t move, keeping your eyes shut tight and hoping the sound would stop. 
buzz.
“who is it?” you asked tiredly, pressing your forehead against the buzzer.
“a friend,” a southern voice replied, full of static.
you let go of the button that connected your voice to the intercom at the entrance of your apartment, closing your eyes and wishing that cooper would turn around and leave. His pity was far from what you needed
you were angry at the world, and that included him.
swallowing a lump down your throat, you pressed the door buzzer, feeling it vibrate beneath your finger until you were certain the cooper was inside the apartment and out of the rain.
with a blanket strung over your shoulders, your bare feet padded against the hardwood flooring as you unlocked your door. three locks for safety.
you waited to hear footsteps, your ear pressed against the door while your gazed focused on nothing in particular. a shell of a human was the only way you could describe yourself.
you’d never felt this dark before.
a gentle knock rapped against the wooden door, and you had to force yourself to open it up slowly as the lights from the hallway spilled into your dim apartment. meeting cooper’s gaze left you feeling like the smallest man in the world, even if you were the same height.
“you look like crap, kid,” cooper sighed, getting a good look at you. you hadn’t showered in a couple of days and your stubble had started to grow out. for years, you’d been so meticulous with how you looked, never once letting someone see you less than your best. not even cooper.
“stating the obvious,” you murmured, stepping back to give the older man time to step in. you didn’t bother sticking around for a proper greeting, already heading back to your bed so you could collapse on top of it, burying your face into your pillows.
the sound of cooper’s footsteps made you queasy, curling into a ball and peeking out as he turned on a lamp near the doorway. 
“why didn’t ya’ tell me?” he asked, rolling up the sleeves of his button up to his elbows, having discarded his coat and hat. you rarely ever saw him dressed so casually.
through furrowed brows, you glared at him, “i didn’t have to tell anyone a goddamn thing, you know. it was my secret to keep.”
“i didn’t mean it like that,” he sighed, stepping close until you felt the bed dip down next to you, “you’re not obligated to tell anyone your secrets,” his voice was so soft, it made your stomach twist, “but you’ve been ignoring my calls. why?”
a deep, shaky breath came from you as you looked at the man sitting next to you on the bed, his face lit up by the warm lamp, “i don’t need your help. i’m fine, cooper.”
“you’re a terrible liar,” he murmured, a tiny smile on his lips, “you always have been.”
you hated how well his voice and presence soothed you. for the first time in days you felt a spark of hope in your chest, but you stomped it out before it could burn bright.
“i know,” you whispered, moving to rest upright against the headboard with the blanket tight around you, “i figured you wouldn’t want to be seen with me.”
you didn’t dare look him in the eyes because the last thing you needed was for him to feel sorry for you. it wouldn’t be the first time someone questioned your identity and been turned off by it, many of your old friends had left you in the dust. considering you some kind of freak.
yet, there was cooper howard loyally at your side, his hazel eyes showing nothing but compassion and care for you.
you could remember it clear as day, the first time you filmed a scene with him. it was your first big movie gig after years of ads and small roles on television shows, a character that would be memorable if you played it well. cooper was the lead, a sheriff with a heart of gold, and you were his loveable, naive deputy. 
feeling sick to your stomach was an understatement, you vividly remember looking in a mirror and seeing how sunken in your eyes were. you’d been trembling all morning, repeating your lines under your breath as you sweltered underneath the heat radiating from the floodlights that lit up the desert scene.
cooper approached you with that big smile of his, his teeth perfect. everything about him was perfect.
the two of you had run lines weeks and days before, but as you stared at him then, you felt your mind draw a blank. you weren’t going to make a good impression on anyone, especially him.
“you good, kid?” he asked you, head tilting as the makeup department did quick touch ups before the cameras started rolling.
“yeah. i’m great, never been better.” you forced a smile, which got a snort of laughter out of the esteemed actor.
“you’re a terrible liar,” he laughed, reaching over and giving your shoulder a few strong pats, “don’t worry, alright? remember that you’re here because you deserve it. you’ve got skill.”
the rest of the movie was a breeze.
cooper had stuck by your side since then, taking on a role like a mentor. he gave you acting tips, took you for coffee to meet with a better agent, and made sure you had all the connections you needed for making your career even bigger than his own.
you’re not even sure of the exact day you fell in love with him, but after a year of pining for him in secret, you knew you had to end things before trouble found its way to you.
then, he and barb divorced. so, like the devoted little mentee you were, you stayed by his side. 
you helped him start up his gig work, which took weeks of convincing, and it only paid just enough to get the alimony to his ex-wife. you’d even started purchasing the dinners and coffees that you two love to frequent, knowing that at some point he wouldn’t be able to treat you as much as he used to.
cooper had become your lifeline, and this was the easiest way to repay him.
“why would you think that?”
cooper’s voice snapped you out of your daze, eyes readjusting to focus on the man sitting in front of you. he sat there with his brown eyes big and wide, the golden glow from your lamp creating a halo around his head. 
“well, uh, you wouldn’t be the first to think that,” your voice was barely above a whisper as you dropped your gaze, full of shame. 
he exhaled a heavy breath out of his nose, “i’d never do that to you, you know that,” his voice was a comfort to your broken heart, “look at me, i need you to see me say it,” you listened, eyes flickering up to meet his, “i will never ruin what we have over something that makes you… you,” he whispered, his hand holding yours, “you’re the same kid in my eyes and always will be.”
your bottom lip trembled as he spoke, his words digging deep into your heart and leaving you in a mess of emotions. you’d spent the last three days convincing yourself that life was over as you knew it, that all you worked for was just a heap of wood burning away into a pile of nothing.
cooper was a testament to the fact that things would be okay, even if the world wasn’t fair. after his divorce, you knew that he’d lost out on role after role, and if he managed to keep his pride, so could you.
“shit, coop, you’re so stupidly kind,” you laughed, tears rolling down your cheeks as intense emotions flooded you for the first time in months. you weren’t much of a crier, but these wouldn’t stop, “i don’t think there’s anyone in the world who’s as goddamn nice as you. it’s almost sickening how sweet you are.”
the man grinned, “don’t go rubbin’ that in, you’ll inflate my ego and you do not wanna’ see me like that.”
you let out a god-honest laugh for the first time in days, one that made your stomach flutter and leave your cheeks a little sore. 
the days got easier after that night. cooper visited you every day, bringing you a coffee and lunch, not leaving until he got a smile out of you. the two of you would sit around chatting for hours, he’d tell you all the bullshit stories of the gigs he’d picked up. he shared how barb was going to let him take janey to the gigs, too, and you saw how bright his eyes shined at the thought of getting to be with his babygirl, even for just a few hours in a day.
cooper reminded you that it was the little things that made life manageable.
a week later, he’d convinced you to go with him to see sugarfoot at her stable the day before a birthday gig, his first time that janey would tag along.
“hey, coop?” your voice was quiet as you sat in the passenger seat of his car, eyes watching the trees pass by as you made way for the stable in a secluded area outside the city. the evening was warm and bright, filling the sky with hues of orange, red and pink.
“hm?” the man hummed, tilting his head to you, but not taking his eyes off the road.
“why me?” 
his eyes flickered to you, “what do you mean?”
“why, uh… why’d you choose to mentor me?” you mumbled.
the car slowed down as you approached the turn-off to the stable, cooper looked back to road, “guess i can’t really get away with saying it was just outta’ kindness, huh?”
you chuckled, “i want the real answer.”
as you approached the ranch, cooper rolled the vehicle to a stop and shifted into park. you moved to open up the door, but his words interrupted you.
“you reminded me of myself when i was younger,” he answered honestly, turning his head to look at you, “i figured helpin’ you out would heal my soul, or somethin’ like that.”
“how selfish of you,” you snorted, “and to think i thought you did it out of love.”
you kept laughing to yourself after you spoke, opening up the passenger door and getting out to stretch your long limbs. you turned to look over at cooper, able to see him over the roof of the car, and it was then you noticed the red blush that coated his cheeks. he couldn’t hide it from you, even if he tried.
“c’mon, coop,” you smiled, feeling your heart flutter in your chest as you stepped around the vehicle, motioning for the older man to follow, “you don’t have to admit your love to me yet, just shower me in presents and i’ll know it’s true.”
“you’re a real pain in the ass. you know that, right?” he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. 
neither of you needed to admit it out loud just yet, the look you shared spoke more than words could.
“i do,” you said through a smile, leaning into his touch as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and placed a gentle kiss to your temple.
you leaned back, taking one long, good look at cooper. he was breathtaking under the evening sun, his skin radiant. you’d never seen him so happy.
“thank you for everything,” you said.
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the colour of my sky.   you set my world on fire. and i know, i know everything’s gonna’ be alright.
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bbrissonn · 9 months
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𝐯𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞 - 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐧 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬
in which your relationship with quinn was never what you though it was, secrets being keep, one of those being you
disclaimer: this is a work of fiction, this does NOT reflect how these boys act in real life, and it isn't how i imagine them acting
warnings: angst, swearing, asshole quinn, not proofread
pairing: quinn hughes x gn!reader (im pretty sure)
wc: 4.5k (including lyrics)
a/n: the ending is kinda shit because i really wanted to post this before the rest of the album came out sooo yeah
GUTS series
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Hate to give the satisfaction asking how you’re doing now
How’s the castle built off people you pretend to care about?
Just what you wanted
Look at you, cool guy, you got it
I see the parties and diamonds sometimes when I close my eyes
Six months of torture you sold as some forbidden paradise
I love you truly
You gotta laugh at the stupidity
If someone would’ve asked you how to describe yourself a year ago, the words confident, independent and strong would’ve been some you used, but using them now if someone would ask you the same question wouldn't be right. You were no longer that person, the one who always had a smile on her face, one who was always kind and considerate of other’s in the room. No, that you was dead, and it was all his fault. 
When you had met Quinn almost a year ago now, he was the sweetest boy you had ever meet, his personality almost the same as yours. So it was no surprise to you that the two of you ended up hanging out as friends multiple before eventually asked you out on a date. You hesitated at first, scared to ruin your friendship, but the hockey boy was everything you dreamed of in a man, and you knew denying him would be a mistake, so you agreed. 
The two of you then started dating in January, and everything between the two of you was amazing. Sure, you guys didn’t see each other as often as you’d like, with him having practices in the morning and you working until late at night, mainly around the time his games would start. But you made it work, you saw each other at least twice a week, and when time wasn’t in your favour, facetimes were your go-to night time activities. 
But all that changed when summer started approaching, Quinn had let you know months in advance that he’s be heading home for pretty much the whole summer, excited to spend time with his family. Of course, he invited you, but you had the decline the offer, your job would never allow you to take the whole summer off. Thankfully though, you were able to switch your two weeks vacation you had taken in September, and move them to the begin of July.
When you informed your boyfriend you’d be able to join in a month after he left, a weird look creeped up on his face, making your brows furr. 
“What’s wrong?” You asked him, your head looking away from the TV and over to him. 
“Nothing. It’s just… we’re already a full house. You said you couldn’t come so Jack invited another friend. There’s no more bedroom.” 
“Oh, well, I though we’d just share, you know, I mean we already do.” You explained confused, it seemed pretty obvious to you that you’d be sleeping in the same bed. He was your boyfriend after all, why wouldn’t you sleep in the same bed?
“Right.” His answer was short and quick before his attention was back on the TV. “You’d have to meet my parents, and all my brothers and their friends. It’s a lot of people.” He said, almost as if he was trying to discourage you to go. You shrugged it off, thinking nothing too much of it. Quinn was a shy person, you told yourself he was probably just nervous for his two lives to meet together. 
“That’s okay, I’ll be fine.” You assured him. You didn’t worry much about meeting his brothers and their friends, especially considering the fact that you were the same age as Jack and his friends. You hoped that being the same age as them would make the whole meeting easier, something you had mentioned to your boyfriend everytime he’d talk about you having to meet his brothers, but each time, your statement never seemed to make him change his mind, always acting weird whenever you’d bring it up. 
When the older boy didn’t answer you, you grew anxious. Did he not want you to meet them? Was he too ashamed to bring you home with him? Doubt and self conscious thoughts being to fill your head and you couldn’t help but ask him about it. 
“Do you not want me to come?” You questioned him, your voice shaky and low as your eyes focused on your lap, while his shifted over to your figure. As seconds ticked by, regret overcame you, maybe you should’ve just dropped the subject instead of asking questions. 
“Of course I want you to come.” He lied, he couldn’t tell you the truth, you’d leave him if he did, and that was the last thing he needed. Well, it wasn’t a full lie, Quinn wanted you there, but not as his girlfriend, only had his friend. 
“Then why do you act so weirdly every time we talk about me meeting your family?” You pushed, you were desprated for an answer, you needed to know. 
“‘M not.” 
“But you are, Quinn! You always try and find reasons for me not to meet them. Are you ashamed of me?” You continued. The boy could feel the anger rising in him, he hadn’t signed up for this. An argument was not what he wanted when he walked into your apartment earlier that night, no he expected a silent movie night and sex, that’s the only reason he had even agreed to come over in the first place. 
“God, Y/N, you’re so delusion.” Quinn groaned, pushing himself off the couch, walking towards the front door of the apartment. You were quick on his trail, walking only feets behind him. 
“Where are you going?” 
“Home.” He mumbled, slipping his shoes on, only to find you standing in front of your door with your arms crossed over your chest. 
“No.” 
“Y/N, move.” 
“No. Answer my question, Quinn.” You told him, your voice stern. The boy only rolled his eyes before gently pushing you the side and leaving you all alone in your apartment. This was not how either of you planned this night to go. 
Looking back at it now, that night was the first sign that things were going sour in your newly formed relationship. You knew it at the time, but you refused to acknowledge it, your feelings for the boy overshadowing the red flags being waved in front of you. 
The second sign was not even a week later, the Canucks winning a big game in overtime, and obviously they all wanted to go celebrate with each other and their significant others. Of course, that meant you were invited, you always were. So to say you were confused when Quinn didn’t open the driver door of your car like he always did when you arrived at the bar was an understatement. 
“Get back in the car, Y/N.” He told you as he walked towards the entrance of the bar, only to stop when you yelled out his name. 
“What’s going on with you?” 
“Go home, I’ll find a ride home.” He said hrashly before walking in and joining his teammates at a booth, while you stayed in the freezing cold outside for a solid five minutes, confused as to what had just happened. 
The two of you hadn’t exactly cleared the air after your little argument at your place the previous week, so you just convinced yourself that he was probably still a little angry and just wanted a night alone. But deep down you knew that wasn’t the case, he had called you the next morning acting like nothing happened, and he had been acting that way ever since. 
You should’ve called it quits after that night, go back to his place and pack all your things before going home and packing all of his. But you didn’t, instead you waited until the next morning when he’d called you and act like it didn’t happen, that became his go-to thing after that, acting like you two had no problems. 
The third sign hit you like a truck. The season had ended a little while ago, the Canucks missing the playoffs, meaning Quinn was going to head home soon. He didn’t tell you when, you guess he’d probably stay a month, enjoy some time together before he left for the month and you’d join him in July. 
Only when it was almost one in the afternoon and you still hadn’t heard anything from him, you started getting worried. You went to his place after work, only to find his apartment empty, barely anything left in it. You called him, five times, three voicemails, not answer. Part of you started freaking out a little, deciding to call Pettey to see if he knew anything. You wished more than anything you hadn’t. 
The foreward informed you that the boy had left for New Jersey early in the morning, confused as to why you had asked him. You didn’t answer him, instead hanging up and trying to call Quinn once again, only to be met with the sound of his voicemail. 
It wasn’t until the next morning that your boyfriend answered you, telling you he was staying with his brothers to cheer them on during their playoff run and that he’d be heading to Michigan right after. You had never cried over a boy so much before, having to call in sick to work because of how unwell you felt. He left, no warning, no note, nothing, he just left. Little did you know, the next time you’d see him would end up becoming the worst day of your life. 
‘Cause I’ve made some real big mistakes
But you make the worst one look fine
I should’ve known it was strange
You only come out at night
I used to think I was smart
But you made me look so naive
The way you sold me for parts
As you sunk your teeth into me, oh
Bloodsucker, fame fucker
Bleedin’ me dry like a goddamn vampire
A wide smile was plastered on your face as your taxi pulled up in the driveway of Quinn and Jack’s shared summer house, the July sun hitting your skin as you stepped out. After getting all your bags out of the car and paying the driver, you made your way to the front door, choosing to knock on it instead of just barging in. 
The door opened a couple of seconds later, the loud noise of music playing through the house as boy who looked your age opened the door, a confused look on his face. 
“Can I help you?” 
“Is Quinn here?” Your question made a slight chuckle come from the boy, making you a little confused. An awkward smile formed on your face as you realized maybe you had the wrong house. 
“You’re not his type, sweetheart.” The boy chuckle as he leaned against the door frame, making your brows furr. Not his type? What was this guy talking about. 
“Not his type?” 
“Yeah, he’s usually more of a skinny blond guy, at least the one last night was.” The boy explained, making your heart drop. 
“Last night?” You mumbled, hoping that he wasn’t talking about Quinn sleeping with someone else, someone who wasn’t you, who didn’t even look like you. 
“Look, I don’t how you get this address and all, but please leave.” He said before trying to close the door, only you pushed it, keeping it open. 
“I am his girlfriend.” You told him, holding up your phone in his face. Your lock screen being a photo of the two of you in bed, the side of his face pressed against yours as wide smile were present on both your faces. The smirk that was once on the boy’s face dropped, before looking back into the house. 
“I’ll got get him.” He mumbled before closing the door. A minute later, the door opened again, Quinn standing in front of you as a couple of guys were standing behind him, all of them looking at you. Just as the boy from before was about to say something, Quinn stepped outside, slamming the door behind him. 
“What’re you doing here?” He asked, his tone harsh and mean as tears started to form in your eyes. 
“Did you sleep with another girl last night?” You asked him, your voice small and shaky as your eyes stared into his. 
“Go home, Y/N.” 
“Did you?” You asked again, your voice a little louder this time, frustration building up in you as he avoided your question. 
“You’re not supposed to be here.” He said, his tone the same as before. 
“You invited me here, Quinn, you said you wanted me to be here!” 
“Well, I don’t anymore! I don’t want you here, Y/N, so go the fuck home!” He yelled, making your jaw drop slightly at his words. 
“You don’t want me here?” You asked after almost a minute of silence, your voice back to being small and shaky. Meanwhile, Quinn was staring at you with anger, rage almost. 
“Yeah. I don’t why in you’re right mind you’d still show up here when I’ve haven’t mentioned you coming here at all in a long fucking time.” He responded, his words slowly cutting your heart in half. He didn’t want you here, he didn’t want you. 
“Oh.” Was all you could say, you’re eyes now staring at the ground beneath you as tears slowly started falling from your eyes. 
“Go home, and leave me the fuck alone, Y//N.” He finished, his tone not changing. Before you even had time to say anything he had disappeared back inside the house, leaving you all alone again. 
You were sat on the steps of the front proch, waiting for a taxi to come pick you and bring you back to the airport. Where were you gonna go? You had no clue. All you knew was that you had the next two weeks off and you weren’t about to spend them in Vancouver. 
Suddenly, the boy who opened the door was sitting next to you, a small awkward smile on his face as you wiped as many tears away as you could. 
“I’m Alex.” The boy said softly, making you look over at him, trying your hardest to smile at him. 
“Y/N.” 
“‘M sorry, about before, what I said.” 
“You got nothing to be sorry about. But, the blond girl you were talking about…” You trailed off, the though of saying the words out loud making you go quiet. 
“He slept with her. She wasn’t the only one this summer.” He told you, making your heart break a little more the more he talked. In all honesty, you didn’t even know who the boy next to you was, Quinn had never mentioned an Alex, but then again you knew they probably had a weird nickname for him like they do for everyone else. The only thing you knew was that he was Jack’s friend, knowing none of Quinn’s friend were here yet. Yet this stranger you’ve known for a couple of minutes has been more open and honest about your boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend you weren’t sure at this point, had been during your whole relationship. 
“Save me the pain of knowing how many, would you?” You asked, more tears falling from your eyes. But they weren’t falling because of Quinn, no, tears were rolling down your cheeks because of yourself. How stupid you felt for no noticing how weird he had been acting, well more for just ignoring it, how you should’ve ran away from the moment he was avoiding the subject of you meeting his family and friends. You should’ve ran the moment a girl requested to dm you, warning you about Quinn’s playboy past when she saw the two of you at a bar. You should’ve ran and never look back multiple times, but you never did, your love for the boy too strong for your head to do what was right. You let your heart and emotions control your life, and it’s came back to bit you in the ass. 
“So, I am guessing you don’t wanna know that he never told us he had a girlfriend?” He knew he shouldn’t, your heart was already broken enough, but he needed too. You had travelled all the way from Vancouver for Quinn, only for your relationship to fall apart because of him. He needed you to know the truth. 
“Should I even be surprised at this point? He’s always avoided talking about me meeting any of you.” You scoffed, at the same moment, a taxi pulled up into the driveway. Thankfully, it wasn’t the same one as before, saving you the embarrassment of leaving the taxi the happiness women on earth, only to go back in the most heartbroken one. Alex helped you load your bag in the trunk of the car, silence sitting over the two of you. 
“Take care of yourself. Don’t beat yourself up over that idiot.” 
“I will.”
And every girl I ever talked to told me you were bad, bad news
You called them crazy, God, I hate the way I called ‘em crazy too
You’re so convincing
How do you lie without flinching?
(How do you lie? How do you lie? How do you lie?)
Oh, what mesmerizing, paralyzing, fucked up little thrill
Can’t figure out just how you do it and God knows I never will
Went for me and not her
‘Cause girls your age know better
You had decided to spend your two weeks off of work visiting your best friend in Calgary, being with her seemed like the only way Quinn wouldn’t be on your mind 24/7, and you were right. During your time there, you barely thought of the boy, your best friend being a light in your dark world, making you forget all your issues. 
Of course, that all changed the second your plane landed in Vancouver, all your memories of coming here to see Quinn after a road trip coming back to you. And it only got worst once you got to your apartment, one of Quinn’s hoodie before thing you saw when you walked in, tears immediately forming in your eyes. You couldn’t, you had already cried way too many tears over him during your relationship, you couldn’t let yourself cry some more now that he was gone. 
He made clear the state of your relationship when he sent you a simple two word text. We’re done. That was it. No sorries, or any signs that he felt bad, just we’re done. Luckily, you were already in Calgary when he texted you, meaning your best friend was there to make you feel better. But she wasn’t when he came by unannounced to pick up his things. 
It had been two months since your relationship ended, and you were doing horribly. Everything reminded you of him, and of how stupid you were for sticking around, every where you went, he was there, not physically, but in your memories. You had just came back from work when he arrived, knocking loudly on your door scaring you a little. 
When you opened the door, he just walked in, didn’t even look at you or say hi, instead heading straight for your room. He looked the same that he did in July, only his hair was a little longer now. When you joined him in your bedroom, half of his bag was already full, your drawers all opened with your clothes everywhere. 
“Are you at least gonna clean up the mess you’re making in my room?” You asked him, your voice full of anger. There was no way you were gonna let him barge in here with no warnings, then make a mess in your room, not say a single word to you, and then just leave, and if he thought so, he was dead wrong. 
“I am talking to you, Quintin!” You said louder this time, walking towards him and grabbing his bag just as he was about to put some sweatpants in it. His head flew up, giving you a death glare before finally speaking to you. 
“Give it.” 
“No.” 
“Y/N, give me my fucking bag.” He mumbled harshly, reaching out for it only for you to step back. You had the upper hand now, or at least you thought so. 
“You want your bag back? Then clean the fucking mess you made in my room, in which you came in without asking permission.” You said firmly, only making the boy scoff, his glare still present. 
“You’re fucking crazy.” 
“I could call the cops on you right now.” 
“Really? You’d call the cops on me?” 
“Yeah. Clean up, or it’s the cops you’re gonna have the deal with.” 
“You’re seriously fucking insane, Y/N.” Quinn mumbled before ripping his half packed bag out of your hands and storming out of your apartment, leaving you all alone again. Tears of anger started rolling down your face, part of you wanting to chase after him and yell, while the other wanted to just scream into your pillow and cry. You decided on neither, taking in the fact that half his belongings were still in your room. 
The next day, you quickly go into action, cleaning the mess Quinn had made the previous night, all while putting his things aside. When you were done, a pill of clothes was splattered on the floor just outside your room, and you soon joined it with a pair of scissors in your hands. One by one, you started destroying his clothes, letting out all your anger and rage on the pieces of clothing. 
He deserved it, after everything he had put you through in the last year or so, he deserved it, all of it. You showed no mercy, going crazy on the clothes you wore more often than the others, or the ones you knew held a special place in his heart, like his NTDP and Michigan hoodies. 
Next were all the gifts he had given you. It pained you, chopping off the heads of so many adorable teddy bears, but it needed to be done. Those gift were given in a way of saying ‘I love you’ but it didn’t mean anything to him. You didn’t mean anything to him. Everything single thing he had given you was destroyed, but the one that hurt the most was the ring he had gotten you for your birthday, both your initials engraved on the inside of it. Scissors weren’t enough for this, so you made your way to your kitchen, grabbing one of your big knife, doing anything and everything to bend the ring to the point where he couldn’t return it. 
Tears were falling down your cheeks as you placed the ring at the top of the box, above all the other gifts and his clothes, making sure it’d be the first he saw. It felt weird, like you were truly saying goodbye to your relationship. It was the end, after today you’d never see him again. Your boss telling you you could transfer to the compagnies office in Calgary as soon as next week, something your best friend was over the moon about. You’d never have to face the boy who completely broke and changed you, you’d never have to be in the same city as him. 
You didn’t even bother knocking on his door when you dropped off his things, instead just walking in, knowing he barely ever kept his door locked. He was sitting on his couch, a random TV show on the playing when you walked in. You heard him curse under his breath, but you didn’t pay any attention to him, instead dropping the box in the middle of his apartment. 
“I hope you rot in hell, Quintin.” You said harshly before turning around and making your way back out his home. 
“You’re a psycho you know that.” He called out, making you stop right before his door. You turned around, only to see he wasn’t on his couch anymore, now standing about five feet away from you. 
“Yeah? Then what does that make you? I hope one day you’ll feel that you’ve made me feel. That your self esteem is so low that you don’t ever want to leave your apartment. Karma’s a bitch.” You told him before opening his door and walking out. Part of you hope he’d follow you, tell you it was all a big mistake and that he still loved you, that way you’d be able to crush him, making him feel what he made you feel. But you weren’t okay with the fact that he didn’t knowing karma would eventually come back to him. 
And it did.
You said it was true love, but wouldn’t that be hard?
You can’t love anyone ‘cause that you would mean you had a heart
I tried to help you out, now I know that I can’t
‘Cause how you think’s the kind of thing I’ll never understand
A year later, you were sitting in the living room of your shared apartment with your best friend, mindlessly scrolling on your phone when an article caught your eye. Karma had done it’s thing. Barely a month after you left Vancouver, Quinn had found himself a model girlfriend, she was the complete opposite of you, but you didn’t spend any time analyzing everything difference between the two of you like you would’ve done when you first broke up. No, now you just wished nothing more than for her to break his heart. 
And she did. Barely a year into their relationship she cheated on him, publicly, meaning everyone knew about it. Quinn had grown a little famous because of his relationship, meaning almost every city he went in, people would stare at him, teenagers would giggle at him, while adults gave him looks of pity. 
You had ran into Alex during the last season, when the Kings were in town to play against Calgary, and a friendship was born. The two of you talked quite a lot, almost every single day, getting to know each other pretty quickly. The boy soon became like an older brother to you, and you became a little sister to him. 
This new friendship of yours meant if you ever wanted to, you could get updates of Quinn. Hearing that the defenseman was heartbroken over his girlfriend cheating on him brough you the most amount of join you had ever felt in the last two years. You slept amazingly that night, knowing Quinn was in his bed, his heart aching, just like yours was last summer. 
She had done to him, what he had done to you. Only, his was way worst because of the whole affair being public. To you, it felt like you had won. For months, it was him who wasn’t hurting, but now the table had turns. While you slept peacefully each night, Quinn struggled to find sleep, his mind asking himself so many questions. Did she even love him? How many other guys were there? 
One night, your words replayed in his head. Karma was a bitch.
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neevblanc · 1 month
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„curious” ♡
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a/n —hey all! hope ur doin' well, drink water if you haven't! have this as a treat. it's 2k and some more but i cant be bothered to check for specifics. (p.s sorry if the tarot aspects of this are wonky! i did my best to research and i pulled reference from my sister's experience with tarot cards/reading.)
૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡
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Dazai Osamu x GN!reader
Tags— 22/ada dazai, flirting?, pre-slash, don't question why reader's given a key, reader works under ango but he's also they're dad figure, it's a whole thing, mentions of sskk though not explicitly platonic or romantic, take that as you wish, dazai's infuriating habit of burying feelings and then one day he'll die
CW/TW— dazai. (/j, none i can think of.)
note — reader's ability in this is based on one that my friend chose for our self-ship au. "Teacher of Truth by Saneatsu Mushanokoji: The user can employ tarot cards to gain insight into the past, current, and possible future situations. The user needs to know what each of the cards mean in order to properly interpret what they say." it's from a post on tumblr, but I couldn't find it for the life of me! i'll credit if i can. anyway, it's been tweaked a little so i'm here to explain. in this, reader can choose to use their ability during a reading or not, but the tarot cards are always personal to them. people they know will sometimes show in the cards if they're important to them.
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The next time Dazai sees you, it’s well before the ADA opens for the day. He’d admittedly had a rough night—sleep evaded him like always, and he hadn’t had dinner because of his own laziness. His futon was impossibly comfy. How was he meant to part with its loving warmth?
The Door to the agency creaks open, the sound not unlike the groan of the cafe floorboards only steps away. One of Dazai’s favorite activities was purposely seeking out the creaky floorboards and dancing on them so loud Kunikida would have to berate him, of course. He was intimately familiar with the annoying sounds this old building could make.
The office is darker than during working hours, but he notices the meager amount of lights still switched on. Distantly, he knows Kunikida would’ve blown a gasket about the electric bill if he had found them still on. He takes a step into the room-
Something rustles. Downstairs, an old radio plays a song he does not recognize. Pigeons flutter and coo from outside the window.
Somebody was in the agency, and had it been any of his fellow detectives, he’d have known.
“Hmmm, what’s this,” he mutters absently, volume low enough to alert whoever it was had decided to trespass.
”Dazai-san?” a soft voice calls, and Dazai pauses for a moment. A short, hollow sound follows—cards shuffling. He bites the inside of his cheek. How curious.
”Last I checked, you don’t clock in with the rest of us measly agents. Surely Ango’s fuming by now?” He hums, stepping into view of you. you’re sat at Atsushi’s desk, bag perched on top of Atsushi’s empty report trays. Dazai almost smirks at the sight— silly Atsushi, always rushing to complete everything in a timely manner. One day, he’d get him to turn them in later, hopefully months later- like he did.
”Hm, no. I clocked in earlier, but Ango wanted me over here early. Something about a mission I have to hand over to Fukuzawa-dono. I got a key from him last time, so I just let myself in.” you explained. Dazai pulled his own chair out and collapsed into it, peering down at what your hands were busying themselves with.
He realizes they’re tarot cards. Thick and sturdy under your fingers, you set them up neatly in front of yourself. The backs are a matte purple, decorated with silver details that glint as the sunrise light hits them for just a fraction of a second. The illustrations seem to flicker with movement, almost like snapshots of time shifting through an old camera, frame after frame.
”What’s got you so busy?” he asks, exaggeratingly leaning over to look at the cards. You laugh and smile, expression wobbly. He notes the change. You briefly shake out the bracelet laying on your wrist, almost nervously. You lay the last card on the desk’s surface. Atsushi’s cute cat clock ticks from where it’s placed near his report trays.
“I do readings for the day early in the morning, just in case. Sometimes, I don’t even use my ability.” You explain, keeping your voice low so as not to break the morning peace. Dazai glances at the cat clock. Soon, the secretaries and Kunikida will clock in and begin their work day. He focuses back on you and grins, intrigued.
“Anxious, then? I guess the ability to see the future will do that to ‘ya.” Dazai sighed, crossing his legs and resting his chin on his hand. He was content to watch you finish setting the cards down in a formation he admittedly did not understand.
” What does that one mean?” he says, pointing to one of the cards. Its flickering surface shows a woman with mint-colored hair pulled up into a bun. Behind her, there’s a black mass, and she seems to be standing in a graveyard. There are two Xs at the top of the card. You redirect your attention to the card he’s hovering his finger over and smile.
”That’s Judgment—renewal, reflection, awakening, or reckoning. For a personal reading, it would mean going through a period of self-evaluation or maybe even trying to understand the people around you and your situation more.” You explain, seemingly done with the spread and setting down the other cards nearby. Dazai purses his lips.
”Sounds gloomy. Lame!” He huffs, upset by his choice. you gasp and narrow your eyes.
”Don’t call them lame! You’ll piss them off, Dazai.” You hiss, smacking him on the arm. Dazai grins and leans closer, smile growing coy.
”Really now? And how exactly does one do that?” Dazai prods. You stick your tongue out and cross your arms.
“Not telling. Now shut up and let me do my reading.” You grumble, eyes flicking over the cards. Dazai whines and throws himself forward, almost shoving you off of Atsushi’s chair.
”Dude!” You yelp, hands scrambling to grasp his coat as he rights himself. Dazai grabs you by the shoulders and shakes, intent on being the biggest possible nuisance.
”That’s boring! Do your reading laterrrr; it won’t matter, right? Ne- do a reading for me! I wanna know my future,” He begs, grinning. You blink and scowl, pushing him away.
”First off, it would matter. Doing a reading later would be a completely different outcome. Just wait. All I have to do is interpret these. I’ll do yours after.” You grumble, adjusting their sleeves and settling back into the chair. Dazai harrumphs but settles into his own chair to watch you silently read the cards.
You focus back on the cards, and Dazai settles himself by watching you idly. You’re dressed in what you always wear to work, but it’s casual enough to know doubt have been breaking the dress code had you not been working under Ango for so long.  There’s a small scrunch to your nose as you focus on your task, and Dazai can spot how you run your tongue over your teeth in thought. Dazai looks away pointedly. Taking a few breaths, he forcibly clears his mind. How odd.
”Okay, done.” You hum, straightening and starting to pick up the cards. He shifts so his whole body is faced toward you. You take gentle care of the cards, putting them back into the deck.
”Why do they flicker like that? You aren’t using your ability,” he asks, curious about the shifting images on the cards. You shrug.
”Don’t know. It happens no matter what deck I use, though I prefer using this one. The images just shift into the same ones most of the time, though some have changed over time.” You explain, shuffling the cards. Dazai reaches out and hovers over your hand before poking the back of it gently. You let him despite knowing the outcome.
The images on the cards still lying on the table flicker, completely uninterrupted, even as Dazai feels the shiver of his ability eating away at yours. He hums and pulls away. He hadn’t been paying attention when he jostled you earlier, but you were right- they were unaffected.
”Strange, but not unheard of. Some ability effects aren’t considered active enough for my ability to erase.” Dazai says, allowing you to continue. you finish and present him with the deck, pulling away when he goes to take them.
”Don’t be mean to them. They’ll be mean to you. You can’t even think anything negative; they’ll know. You’re gonna cut the deck in 3, okay? We’ll do a simple reading.” you explain, and only once Dazai agrees (crosses his heart and hopes to die!) is he gently handed the cards.
”What do you want to read? We can focus on love, or money, or your career, things like that.” You say. Dazai ponders for a moment before sniffing, mouth settled into a pompous pout.
”I want to know if someone will finally be interested in a double suicide with me.” He huffs. You scoff.
”You’re insane. Okay, so love. Think about that while you cut them.” You nod, giving him the go-ahead. He runs his fingers over the well-loved edges and slots his thumbs through the deck where it feels right, setting the individual cuts down on the desk before them. He tries to take it as seriously as possible, though thinking about love has always made him squirm and itch beneath his skin.
You reach over once he’s done and clear your throat, carefully picking the top cards on each deck and laying them out in front of him. On the left, the first card flipped is a wheel, seemingly in the sky and surrounded by clouds. The clouds float by calmly, though Dazai can’t find anything particularly personal to you the way some of the other cards would show.
It’s made a little more difficult considering the card’s orientation- upside down.
You hum at it before moving on. The card in the middle is revealed, and this one piques his interest. He grins a little at the image. Two figures hold goblets in their hands, strings of power rising from the cups and meeting above their heads to form a Yin and Yang sign. The figures are startingly familiar- one dark-haired, the other light-haired. Accents in their hair match each other, silver and black clashing and melding nicely. This one’s facing right-side up. The image flickers to show the energy that swirls around, occasionally circling their respective holders.
The last one flicks onto the wooden desk with a hollow sound. The image is soft, not unlike the first one with the blue sky. A sun takes up the upper half, rays pronounced against the sky. Ttheire’s a little kid in the illustration, their beaming face scrunched up in happiness. There’s a flag clutched in one hand, with the other gripping onto the mane of the white horse they’re perched upon. Sunflowers frame them, peaking over the illustrated garden wall behind them.
It’s an endlessly endearing picture, and from the smile, he has a feeling he knows who it is. Like the last one, it’s right-side up.
You settle your chin against your palm, leaning on the table with a hum.
”That’s….a really nice reading, actually.” You move to point at the cards. Dazai sits patiently with his hands on his lap. Nothing more fascinating than seeing someone in their element, he supposed.
”That first one is The Wheel of Fortune. Upside down, it’s a little darker. It represents your past,” you pause, looking at him for a moment. “I think for you, it’s focused on the feeling of helplessness—lack of power or control…like you had love but couldn’t control how and when you lost it,” you say, your voice soft. Dazai fights to ignore the discomfort building in his throat.
”Well, what can I say? My dark past haunts me,” he bemoans, and you huff a soft laugh. You move on to the next card- the cups. You look a little embarrassed by this one.
”This one is the present. Two cups represent…well, partnership. More specifically, the realization of a new partnership. This one can be pretty romantic. I guess you’ve got something to look forward to soon,” you say, pointedly ignoring the images of his two kohais. He grins, sparing you of the teasing. He didn’t know how well you even knew Akutagawa- but it was amusing to see everyone could see what those two denied vehemently.
”The last one is the future. You got The Sun, which is actually really sweet.” Through your embarrassment, Dazai watches a sweet smile grow on your face. He matches it easily.
“It means joy and success, for you in particular. It means…whatever or whoever your two cups is for, you’ll be very happy together.” You say, and Dazai sighs wistfully.
”Maybe someone will finally want to commit suicide with me! This news might keep me alive a day longer just yet,” Dazai coos. You groan and take a deep breath, seemingly ignoring him as you duck your head down and then start to put the cards back.
”You better hope you didn’t piss this deck off, Dazai.” you huff, glaring. Dazai pouts, cradling his face in his hands.
“What?! I followed all your rules; I would never,” he whines. You flip him off and busily tuck the cards into a soft leather pouch. He lets his hands drop and watches for a moment.
”Thanks for the reading,” Dazai says, his voice back to normal. You glance at him and smile.
”Yeah, no problem. It’s nice to read without my ability once in a while,” you admit, expression soft. He grins. Something stirs in his chest.
”You can read me whenever you want, lovely.” He purrs jokingly. You startle, flushing. You glare and kick him with your foot.
”Don’t say shit like that,” you mutter. Dazai whines out a laugh, having settled on teasing you until he could see the smoke coming out your ears.
Before he could continue, the door creaks open, and the overhead lights flick on. Multiple people come shuffling in, and Dazai can hear Kunikida conversing lowly with Fukuzawa. The secretaries also file in, chattering contently amongst themselves. Fukuzawa and Kunkida pause only to greet them both. you wave politely, and Dazai salutes them both.
you blink your eyes to adjust to the light now flooding the room. Dazai huffs and stands with a groan.
”Alright, I’ve got five minutes to get out of here. You’ll be going in to see Shachou, right?” He asks, stretching. you stand and nod, giving him a look.
”Where are you going?” you ask, picking up your bag. He groans at the way his back pops as he rights himself from his stretching.
”Home. I only came here 'cause I was bored. But in the long run, it’ll be a lot funnier if Kunikida’s mad all morning when I don’t show up~” He snickers. you shake your head, a smile pulling at your mouth.
“You’re so lame. See you, then.” You sighed, heading down the hall Kunikida and Fukuzawa had disappeared down.
”And yet you love me. ‘Till we meet again,” he calls, pointedly ignoring the yell you let out.
”Whatever!” you yelped, and Dazai let the agency door click closed behind him.
He grins. Curious indeed.
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note — can you tell i love brothers! atsushi and dazai? also, the woman in Judgement is Mizuki Tsujimura, who I headcanon is pretty good friends with reader in this one. :) please let me know if there are any pronoun inconsistencies! this was originally written with she/her pronouns, and i did my best to fix it to match the gender neutral style i like to use for tumblr stuffs.
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©neevblanc 2024 // do not plagiarize or repost
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