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#but with real people sometimes that can be a bit too much you know?
loveharlow · 2 days
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my unpopular obx opinions that no one asked for (unfiltered and in detail)...
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Sarah cheating on John B was not unexpected. She ran into the arms of Topper Thornton whenever the opportunity presented itself which bring me to my next point...
Sarah does not like being a pogue. I believed she liked the initial freedom and adventure but when shit gets tough, she runs back to what reminds her of her old life (*cough cough* Topper). She has the luxury of being on the fence of Kook and Pogue sometimes.
Pope is technically the real main character of the show. On paper, yes, the show is about John B finishing the treasure hunt that his father started. BUT, after season 2, it was clear that the entire treasure itself revolved around Pope, a direct descendant of the man the treasure belonged to and I don't think we got enough of that.
Pope is a stronger character than he is presented to be. I think the show highlighted his self-defense capability in seasons 2 and 3 but it's widely ignored that this man has gone up against Rafe on multiple occassions and lowkey beat his ass. (Rafe beat his ass too but still).
Kiara will forever be wrong for how she did Pope. She treated him like SHIT. Like, if I was Pope, I genuinely could not be friends with her after like. P4L my ass. And then there are people who call him butthurt but if the roles were reversed...Hardcore Kie fans can defend her all they'd like but after a certain point, there was no excuse for her to be leading him on the way she did. She knew she didn't like him in that way and that's very clear from the start of season 2, but she proceeds to sleep with him and then tell him off.
Ward is a better father than Big John. Y'know, I pondered on this for a bit. And I am standing by it. Big John would break both of John B's legs and throw him onto a set of train tracks if it got him closer to finding the gold and excuse it by saying some shit like "But you didn't die, did ya, Bird?". Like that man was ALIVE for almost an entire year and made no attempt to contact his son. Ward is a criminal by all means but most of the time, at least what we saw as viewers, he was doing it for Rafe.
Cleo deserves more screen time and a better backstory. I know she's a new character and all but like WHAT'S HER LAST NAME?? Like does she not have one? Is she not real??
(edit) Kiara is very insensitive to the feelings of her friends and overall generally self-centered. She literally acts like her parents are the worst in the world. I get it, they don't like her friends and they are indeed hypocritical towards the pogues considering her father was one. But in season 2, she gets in the car and says "this shit would be so much easier without parents" next to JJ, aka the one with an abusive father. Not to mention, she's seen how John B fell apart after his father disappeared and how hard it's been for Sarah to go against her father.
CLEOPOPE BEST SHIP.
Anyway, I did this out of boredom. I had to take a break from actual writing for a moment.
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sinimake · 14 hours
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Opposites-Attract headcanons of Johnshi
I love putting opposing traits to my ships more than anything so enjoy!
Kenshi is pretty low maintenance. All he needs is clothes on his back and Sento, that's it. Probably can survive zombie apocalypse on his own while Johnny must have his grooming essentials with 10-step skin routine, a cup of coffee with the exact milk-sugar ratio at 9am sharp in the morning or he will DIE
Johnny is glued to his phone, always taking pics and documenting things while Kenshi doesn't even know where the fuck is his phone half the time
Also Johnny is texter and Kenshi is caller/voice message sender
When Kenshi is angry, he blazes like fire. One look at him and you know he's fucking pissed. While Johnny is silent rager. He will appear fine and brush off things convincingly good with his acting skills till he snaps. Like ocean pulling back its tides just to slam whole ass tsunami upon its victims.
They're both ambiverts but different flavors of ambiverts. Johnny makes friends with everyone, always chats and charms. He somehow knows the lifestories of people he met even briefly. However Johnny gets overwhelmed a lot that he needs his down time or he will start becoming murderous. Kenshi, on the other hand, rather die than make a small talk but he is a natural leader who can read people very well.
Johnny is chronically online and Kenshi is deliberately internet illiterate
People think Johnny is the rulebreaker while Kenshi's the voice of reason but they get it so wrong. Johnny is all about being pompous and mischievous but when the shit starts becoming serious and so much real, he panics. Kenshi though? He will charge head first into a trouble swinging and crackling. He didn't want to break the rules, but if it must, Kenshi will twist that notch to extreme.
Johnny is a picky eater and Kenshi will eat anything. That's why Johnny cooks almost all the time bc their criterias for "food" are vastly different.
Johnny exists in the public eye. He thrives in people's love and attention while Kenshi is shunned and feared for his past in the crime organization.
Kenshi is paranoid while Johnny is bit too confident sometimes
Johnny thrives on routine and schedule since he's a busy celebrity, he plans ahead and sticks to it. On the other hand, Kenshi just goes along with wherever the wind takes him.
However, when it comes to training, Kenshi is all about going by the book. Breathing exercises, meditation, stances, katas, footwork, practices, and everything, he follows them through to build up discipline. But Johnny? He just wings it bc it's all natural talent, baby! If you ask him how he does some moves, he will just shrug and say "it feels right that way"
Their fighting styles differ, too. Johnny is light on feet, flexible, fast, and slips through guards like a shadow. Kenshi is grounded, steady, tough, and even his blade swings are focused on elbow movements than in wrists.
Adding on the previous point, Johnny's name is a reverse pun of Kage, which means "shadow" in Japanese. On the other hand, Sento's powers are represented through glowing lights, hence creating the opposite elements of Light and Shadow in Johnshi
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thelakesuite · 23 hours
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The Rusty Lake Story in Bitchass Baby Terms
this is ALL off the top of my head (and i haven't experienced like 10% of it maybe?) so i might be wrong but i don't care right now
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the lake itself isn't, like, that well established 'cause it's a mystery game or something so we don't need full exposition. it's some deity-like thing as old as the mammoths (not canon) that eats time. or rather memories that are stored in lil cubes. and it gives its zookeepers immortality so they can keep feeding it. they call themselves the Rulers of the Lake but we all know the truth. 'immortality', or rather enlightenment, is represented by you becoming your fursona and living maybe an extra century. mr. owl's looking for a new heir pretty quick in the process but we'll get to that.
corrupted souls are kinda a byproduct of all this. truly the lake's farts. when a person dies horribly, when their memories get extracted wrong, or when the plot demands it, they become corrupted. corrupted souls still talk, and some of them are even sensible (like your mom oooooh), but generally they're jumpscare beasts or wet little puppies. sometimes both. yes you can get corrupted when you're enlightened, and right now it's the more likely outcome actually. there's a whole 'elixir of immortality' that gets harped on, where one drinker gets corrupted and the other gets enlightened, but that is literally only a thing for roots and a little bit of cave so don't worry about it too much. unless you're making dramatic fanart in which case leverage that shit.
cubes come up a lot in cube escape, believe it or not! black ones are bad memories, white ones are good memories, blue ones are connected to the past in a way that's somehow not a memory, gold ones are connected to the future, red ones only exist in my fangame that ellesian recently unearthed, and green ones are jello yum. also suck it anyone who told me pre-tpw the gold cube thing was unestablished. anyway. it was a big thing mr.'s owl and crow were working on, creating a golden cube (presumably to extend their own lives) as seen in cave, but then one just kinda appears in the past within when albert does electric jujitsu. jury is still out on that.
onto the actual narrative i think.
in paradise, you're mr. owl pre-owling (1790-something). the lake's current suckass servants are your family who tried to sacrifice you to it way back, but your mom took your place for mom reasons. now mom's corrupted and guiding you to... well, to get sacrificed for real this time. but with your powers combined (yes mr. owl was two people, no it is never addressed) you get enlightened and tell your family to fuck off 'cause you're building a hotel on that island now. you also get a tease in the secret ending that dale and laura will do a similar fusion dance to be the lake's next suckass. we've been waiting 6 years for that to happen.
in roots, two alchemist brothers get that elixir shit going (1860-1935). one of them becomes mr. crow, while the other becomes a playable character for a game. and corrupted. you rope your whole bloodline into this, harvesting their body parts (usually after they die from other means, but you totally caused most of their deaths) for a reincarnation ritual involving a magic seed (that also only exists for this game). this is where the best characters come from because rusty lake actually wanted to tell a story with this game. you reincarnate into a woman! don't think about the implications.
in samsara room, the inside scoop of reincarnation is fuckin' weird, dude (1935). the original was made before rusty lake began, so it's not truly part of the narrative, but it got folded in for the fifth anniversary.
in hotel, you do not get the backstory of the third bird man (1890ish). instead, you get to kill mr. owl's family again, but one-on-one as animal people. how did they become animal people? fuck you that's how! mr. owl probably did it on purpose to spite them with shit sandwiches and bullets to the brain. oh, also, there might be an evil twin of mr. rabbit that shows up later.
in arles, you're vincent van gogh. that's it. he's not relevant. but it is funny seing the death date of paul gauguin in the timeline docs.
we're talking about the past within later but the 'past' segment takes place around here. 1926 iirc?
in birthday, your parents get shot (1939). you're going to be an important detective, dale, but like right now you're getting traumatized. or rather you're experiencing that memory, then doing blue cube magic to fix it and have your grandpa shoot evil mr. rabbit instead. is your grandpa actually mr. crow? no. shut up about it now.
in underground blossom, your mom gets abducted (1935-1972 maybe). okay, well, not you. this is the laura backstory metaphor game but you're actually playing as the third bird man who is both her stepdad and her pet. and her grandpa albert takes her mom rose for his own nefarious reincarnation schemes maybe probably. rose is surprisingly okay with it but characters rarely put up a fight with the plot anyway. laura's a lonely kid, starts dating robert, picks up art to soothe her nightmares, gets murked, then reaches some kind of epiphany that we just train ride away from before finding out what actually happens. she's your daughter, damnit, you should support her transcendence. not enlightenment importantly. also, no, laura's life didn't literally happen at train stops, it's just a vehicle. not even a pun don't fucking laugh i see you snickering.
in seasons, you set up a really interesting plotline that gets utterly countered by everything that came after (1960's-80's). it's just laura time in there, and she uncorrupts herself, thank you very much. the series has been struggling with how laura gets her corrupted self to 1980-whatever, and so far only one other game's even taken place after 1972. and that game's the past within which also counters every other plotline. sigh. maybe we're not smart enough for these puzzle games. at least harvey's cute and bird-shaped. key point that's impossible to fuck up is that laura dies in 1972, and it's unclear whether it was a murder or suicide. that's why we get a detective.
in harvey's box and the lake, uh i don't know really (1969). these are early games that are basically spinoffs of seasons. they help with the overarching stuff but aren't much for the narrative at this point. also they suck
in case 23, dale starts investigating laura's death and gets wrapped up in the lake stuff (1972). it was supposed to be just another murder case, but he got too into it and it got too into him, so he gets teleported to the lake chapel and ferried off to. somewhere idk. he goes into an elevator that takes him down memory lane to the lake floor.
in the mill, mr. crow is really trying to clean house before dale gets here (1972). this is where laura gets her ass corrupted by mr. crow, and we find out how the lake eats memories or whatever. it's supposed to overlap with case 23 and it almost succeeds. whatever skrunk is still there is forgiveable, this was the flash era after all.
in theatre, dale learns about ripoff hinduism, goads a man into suicide, and abandons his darling toilet fetus son (1971). it's like birthday again, where this is a memory we're seeing, but that is a light distinction. robert kills himself at the bar, and we take his memories for legal reasons. there's some sixfold wheel we learn about that doesn't matter much.
in the cave, mr. crow still cleans house before dale gets to the Magic Memory Machine (1972). mr. owl's kinda sorta dying, and dale's been elected his son or something. gotta get his mindmeats. you read a textbook about cubes, pilot a submarine to the lakefloor, put dale and laura in a surrogate fusion dance machine, then give dale the golden cube it makes before sending him up the elevator again. hotel did imply something serious was gonna happen when he gets to the top, but that was eight years ago. the devs probably forgot and fell too in love with albert vanderboom in the meantime.
in the white door, robert unkills himself and gets wrong psychiatry (1972). as it turns out, mr. owl has a front business running a for-profit psych ward to extract totally good and healthy memories from people. this one is an actual factual spinoff but is kinda relevant for the greater rusty lake metropolitan area.
in paradox, fuuuuuuuck who knows maaaan, isn't it all just a metaphor? (1972). there's a consensus that none of the stuff that happens in paradox actually happens, and that it's all in dale's head while he's in the Magic Memory Machine from cave. even though there's five different endings, he kinda walks away at the end, which might be the worst ending of the lot. the information's solid though; mr. owl spells out the whole heir thing, there's bits of backstory for dale and laura everywhere. also the movie's sick.
in the past within, albert becomes a mechanical engineer for the sole purpose of making plot armor (1926/1984). yeah, remember that guy from roots? the voodoo murderer who got third-hand alchemy information to make up for his lack of pussy? yeah, he invented a time machine decades ago. and he enlisted his daughter to talk to her past/future self to grow him back to life in 1984. with a gold cube that he somehow got. and somehow his scar is genetically coded in him. and we don't see his wiggly lineart dick. what does he do in 1984? trap his daughter in a time loop then who the fuck knows. he's stuck in his jumpscare beast ways from being corrupted for so long. how did he get corrupted when he was literally buried in the ground and salvaged bones from? next game!
there's an ARG that i never saw a thing of because i hated it, best kept memory. from what i gathered, it was another front scheme for memory harvesting, except in the 2000's. does that mean it's enlightened dale/laura doing this one, since mr. owl presumably passed on the title then turned into a fish? i'd like to know too!
also, a chapter of underground blossom i haven't completed, and a paper-based game coming out within the next two years or whatever. i don't know how much they'll clear up.
toodles!
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42bakery · 2 days
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ok. as someone who has only knows motogp is a race and has only seen a few gif’s. I am now captivated but can u please tell/direct me to a primer because i am missing the LORE! with marc especially can we start there!!
Hi anon 👋👋👋👋
I'm actually the worst person to talk if you want lore from Marc. I can tell you that people say that All In and The Rookie, both documentaries about Marc are good (Didn't watch any). I can tell you to look or ask to @usermarquez or @marcsmarquez (please don't bother Emma too much, she's not having the best moment at the time) for Marc lore.
Keeping with the documentaries, @kingofthering @marquezian or @kwisatzworld (They are more Vale orientated, but Marc and Vale history sometimes interact) did a compilation of all Marc documentaries. They also post about other documentaries they watch and make gifset, so I recommend if you want to learn about the sport in general.
Another way to learn about Marc that I would recommend is looking at Box Repsol (page or YouTube) and Honda (YouTube) because they used to make riders talk about themselves and do silly challenges, which sometimes they made them relax. There's even a interview where Marc interviews himself and ask the questions journalist doesn't ask but he wants to hear.
If you want sources in general, then MotoGP did their equivalent of Drive to Survive, it's on Amazon Prime and it's called MotoGP Unlimited. They follow all riders for the 2021 season and they do it mostly chronologically and no added drama all bullshit. The only downside is that it's in their mother tongue (Spanish, Catalan, Italian, French and Portuguese (Did Taka speak in Japanese at some point?)) but includes subtitles (a bit incorrect to clean some images and to appeal the American market), but overall was good. I recommend you get used to need subtitles because those guys refuse to speak English when they are in the same room when they use Italian or Spanish to communicate with everyone (they also talk with their hands, but that's for another moment).
For general learning, there's Hitting the Apex, it's a bit old, but gives you a sense of what MotoGP is. And more recently MotoGP also did There Can Be Only One, which follows the more important riders or the ones called to fight for the tittle for the whole year. It has 2 season and can be found on MotoGP Videopass (you have to pay) or in YouTube. If you get Videopass (it's expensive, but you can watch all races all year long and races up to 2000s or maybe 1990s) you can search and find other MotoGP exclusive content.
I highly recommend for anyone to watch whatever has the DORNA seal of approval because 1) the racing scenes are directly taken from a real races and 2) DORNA likes to keep things real. No fake drama all bullshit, probably they will spin it to look wholesome.
Now if you want podcast or other sources I think I need to call Ash @motocorsas and @its-always-silly-season for that.
I'm sorry for not being able to help a lot more. If you would have asked me about Dani Pedrosa or Pedrenzo, then I'm totally your girl.
Sorry if I forgot to include any Marc expert of If I forgot something, I'm actually inviting all of you to help and guide this anon to learn about MotoGP and Marc.
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siflshonen · 1 year
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https://twitter.com/arthurianmaiden/status/1629170457608876039
Have u watched the cooking extra with the live actors ? 🥺 cue katsuki cuteness time...
I love (and cringe at) the played-up-even-more-with-real-people-beyond-what-the-cartoon-ever-did-overtly-without-other-prompting nature of Katsuki’s fixation on Izuku and I LOVE how he is SO upset at Ochako’s observations and input.
Way of the Househusband Kacchan-Tacchan AU…
And most of all I love the “I’m gonna try to be a punk about even this!” big-eyed “you can eat it” he gives Ochako as he slinks off to lick his wounds and think about how he made a fool of himself about this. This actor is really doing his best cartoon shitty punk for Katsuki and it’s incredible! It’s the kind of cringe that warms my heart. He’s truly giving it his all, and of course Ochako is a delight, too!
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pa-pa-plasma · 2 years
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I would like to say that. unpopular opinion but I hate the "Danny's obsession is protecting people" thing (more & more every day tbh) because it feels very. Weird to me. Selfish almost?
Like, there's never really an explanation given (in fics) as to why, & it always comes off as. Danny isnt protecting people because he wants to, he's doing it because he's forced to, against his will. If he doesn't, he'll die.
whether your intentions are selfish or not doesn't matter to the person you saved but. it also proves the Fentons right. Phantom isn't helping because he's good. He's not helping because he cares. He's helping because he'll die or go insane if he doesn't. & what if there's no one to save? What if there's peace for a bit too long? Does he cause chaos in order to have something to stop? Or does his ghost half just fade away now that his obsession is fulfilled?
I know where it all comes from & I've seen fics based off this that actually go into detail & all that but lately it seems like a headcanon everyone falls back on for seemingly no reason.
why is his obsession "protection?" like what is the point it just seems so random to be reading a fic & then suddenly BAM it's revealed that Danny will go insane & die if he doesn't run around saving everyone for. some reason? and then they move on like it was never mentioned, & it never becomes plot relevant.
#i really dont see the appeal of randomly dumping this headcanon onto Danny but never taking it anywhere?#i really dont mean to be rude but it's late im tired & genuinely confused#people who make ghost obsessions more like hyperfixations i understand. i go that route#but the full blown Danny losing his mind & all that shit? idk.#i know people have preferences. ppl like shit for no reason sometimes just cuz it's cool#things dont need to have some big explanation#but it's killing me. this is such a huge thing to just casually drop in#it'd be like casually mentioning Danny went through PoT before the events of this fic#but it's just. there's nothing to show it? Danny is just chilling & all That is never brought up again?#like this is a pretty big thing right? Danny will Die For Real if he doesnt protect everyone 24/7 that seems like a big thing to me#Danny being scary & shit i get but like. if you just wanna sprinkle that in to spice things up a bit im sure there's easier explanations#like. Danny is a ghost & has weird vibes. that's a good explanation that doesnt have heavy implications#besides the whole being dead thing but we're already past that#i think i think too much about everything. but it's killing me. it's driving me crazy#why did Phantom's obsession do a total flip in TUE? he killed 90% of the world's population#i guess you can say it was Vlad's influence but also Vlad's obsession is mord ''possession'' than ''murder everything''#idk i need to lie down & not think about it. enjoy your headcanon by all means im just. overthinking everything
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marypsue · 1 year
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me, encountering a photoshoot of or interview with an actor who plays a fictional character I am Not Normal about, out of costume and character and living their life as an actor, unexpectedly and abruptly reminding me that the fictional character does not in fact exist or have a life or interiority and is in fact portrayed by a Real Fucking Person who does exist and has thoughts and goals and dreams and a whole life entirely unrelated to that nonexistent fictional character, and could hypothetically stumble across my Being Not Normal On The Internet about one of many characters they pretended to be in exchange for a paycheque: ah lads not again
#yes I am aware that some actors do get as attached to (some of) their characters and flesh them out the same way I might#but also like. how fucking weird must it be to just be doing a job for a paycheque#a job you probably like! but still a job. and like. a role you have no particular attachment to you're just reading the lines they gave you#and some rando comes along with all these like. ~deep insights into the psyche of~ this made-up guy with your face#and all of those ~deep insights~ are equally made up#anyway I Know know that it's all just an elaborate game of pretend but sometimes. sometimes the real world intrudes unexpectedly#and sometimes you find out the actor's been reading fanfiction of his character smoochin' with another character#and could hypothetically have stumbled across your fervent and slightly feverish treatise on how that character likes to fuck#there is. a reason why we don't tell the people involved in making the canon about the fanfiction lol#to be clear. this dose of reality is not a bad thing. just makes it. extremely fuckin weird to think about the character for a bit.#yes i Know the character is not real and the actor is not the character. at all times.#but the reminder that the actor and I share a reality and they could hypothetically see me caring WAY too much about something they made?#unconscionable. when I am vampire witch queen of the universe actors will have to live in a pocket dimension where they can't get internet.#and can live their lives in blissful ignorance of the weird shit I want to write about nonexistent people who have their faces.
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todayisafridaynight · 11 months
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HAVE BEEN ROTATING Y7 ARAKAWA IN RGGO ARAKAWA'S DRIP IN MY MIND FOR AEONS YOU SEE THE VISION....................
Listen. I think. I think it would work. I think we could've still won. The physics probably would've been a pain, but if I think about it as an echo of the red iin his costuming in the play at the start, and link it back to how the plot of the play comes to represent part of his life, it would [unintelligible]
But no for real, the sliver you can see of the snakeskin on Jo and the fact it's the lightest thing you can see on his whole outfit feels purposeful. It's still incredibly funny to me that whole thing was treated as a twist at all. But.
And the progression on account of the timeskip is sick too from a symbolic perspective. It's things like the 2019 tie having the exact same pattern as in 2000, but it's also now the only real color in his entire ensemble, the purple from his shirt relegated to the tie and the pink completely gone. Hanging on to the past (although I guess this is more RGGJo's thing), forcing his "self" into a smaller and smaller space, that kind of thing. If we go with Sololiquy for a moment, maybe there's also something there about things being livelier when Ichi was around, for better or worse.
All the leather is ostensibly much more luxurious, befitting of his rise in status, but it's also burying him further in these additional layers of security. The gloves DO pull it together, and they also leave him basically completely covered-up from head to toe, which I can't help find fascinating.
So, you know, he looks sick with the gloves on, but there's also a different Flavor when recognizing he had them on the first battle when he was hiding so much from Ichi, but in the second battle, where he hopes to come clean, he's bare-handed ("Ichi-vision" notwithstanding).
And I think it's also worth recognizing that the gloves would've offered some protection when he went to grab the blade, but he grabs it anyway in his bare hand. With the amount of force you apply when you swing a blade and it actually connects, that'd hurt him just as bad, but it shows he's past the point of caring about what happens to him even before he says so. (I still think we should've probably seen his hand cut and bleeding when out of Ichi-vision, but y'know.)
Much to think about...
NO I SEE YOUR VISION I SEE WHERE YOU'RE GOING they could've done that.... true the physics would've been a pain but I think we can trade some of the effort that went into The Bread and put it towards the scarf and coat.....
The evolution of Jo's outfit in conjunction with the surrounding environment and circumstances really is mad interesting, and as someone who really enjoys 'storytelling' (idk if that's the exact word rn but i aint ever been good with words in the first place) through character design/wardrobe. Any note I coulda said you've already said for me, yet I still wish I had some more words to express how much I love the changes in his outfit and how it reflects himself and the story at that particular point 😷
#long post#snap chats#holder until i think of a tag for these asks#most ironic ass tag cause i know im never changing it at this point ☠️#thats the problem with having a walnut-sized brain like mine you're just terrible at words#it's what makes trying to say things painful cause id LOVE to accurately describe how much i adore a thing#however i was born without a brain#its why im eternally grateful for people who can put thoughts into words perfectly ☠️☠️#but yayaya i always found those aspects of jo's design real fun and its really really epic that you've noticed them also!#for some reason i keep wanting to say that joe's outfit becoming darker can also reflect his and ichi's relationship#and how it isn't purely mutual hatred- of course jo doesnt like ichi anywhere near as much as arakawa did#so the sentiment of ichi making things 'brighter' probably isn't super shared with jo#but still.. ill entertain it for just a sec#its kinda like when your routine's busted or something. i dont know again im not good at words#like somethings just missing even if you werent particularly a fan of it- it just feels weird now that its gone#i dont want to ramble too much im sure im sounding silly as is#this aint related. only like. VAGUELY but on the note about Soliloquy though the author of that fic found my art for itjlkjkvle#very honorable moment.. im glad they get to know how much people loved their work :]#but back on topic ill risk sounding silly. ive said dumber things ☠️#im prob stretchin a bit but sometimes i think of how jo calls ichi. 'ichi'.#i made a post bout this a long while ago but i still think of it.. like its just Interestin how ichi's friends might call him kasuage#or ichiban in full but jo and masato still use 'ichi'. with jo it's esp Inchresting since it's such a casual nickname#and yk.. youd expect a lil more professionalism. i wonder if he picked the nickname up from arakawa or somethin#ergo.. maybe circling back to both Soliloquy and jo's palette.. maybe it truly can be reflective of arakawa's feelings while ichi was gone#but im goin on too much im saying NOTHING
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ervotica · 5 months
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“C'mere, sweetheart-“ & “Breathe, just breathe-" with finnick please 🤍
a life of our own
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pairing: finnick odair x reader
summary: finnick helps you find yourself again when you’re rescued from the capitol. you’re desperate to trust him again.
warnings: hurt/comfort, a lil fluff, a lil angst, r was tortured and brainwashed in the capitol after catching fire (i got sooo carried away with this but i luv it! hope you enjoy, please remember to like/comment + reblog!)
hunger games masterlist
Your chest is red-hot with anguish; it’s all you feel lately. Confined to this white room, locked in, spending all your time waiting for something that won’t come.
Nothing is real anymore. Your life is a thick fog that you can’t decipher, can’t tell which bits of it are real and which were planted by the Capitol. They made you a weapon against the revolution, against Katniss and Coin and Finnick.
You know him, that much is evident in your unconscious reactions. The way your chest tightens and squeezes when he walks into a room, how your breath catches and you hunger after his touch despite not knowing exactly why. But you know that he’s familiar and that - at one point or another - you loved him.
He visits routinely like clockwork, every day at around the same time. And each time you don’t push him away, don’t flinch at his touch like you do the others, his confidence grows.
Your doctor has been practicing memory games with you, which parts do your life are real and which are fabricated. You repeat them in your head over and over and sometimes they slip out when you’re talking, too. You’ve been incorporating opinions on top of the basic facts you know, and you’ve been including what you know about him.
You rock on the bed with your knees to your chest, feet tucked underneath you as you recite everything you can remember about him. You mutter it under your breath, tongue clicking as you whisper.
The door creaks and you stop dead mid-sentence. Finnick slips in without a word, pulling a chair up to sit by you. He doesn’t miss the way you eye him warily, watching every movement, every tick of his jaw and twitch of his muscles. You’ve always been perceptive- it’s one of his earliest memories of you. How you watch people.
He sits and watches you in return; you trace every inch of his body with your eyes, the bruises on his arms, the points of his shoulders, the slope of his nose and chin, the curve of his jaw.
“Finnick,” you say. He smiles; his fingers rest on the edge of the bed.
“That’s right.”
You reach out to touch him; he stays dead still as instructed by your doctors, but lets you lift his hand to place it in your own much smaller one. You turn so you’re sitting cross legged facing him, holding his hand in your lap. His heart could burst with the way you’re looking at him, a cocktail of fear and longing in your eyes. Something else lies deeper than that, like you’re being pulled through the rubble of your own mind and to the surface. Something a lot like love.
“Can I ask you something?” Your voice is small, more timid than he’s ever heard from you.
“Anything.”
“You love me. Real or not real?”
“Real,” he murmurs.
“I think I love you, too. I know I did before. I just don’t know which parts of my brain are real.” You fiddle with his fingers, the pad of your thumb rubbing over his knuckles methodically. If this is the only way you’ll ever touch him again, he’ll take it. He’ll take every scrap, every morsel of affection he can eke out of you. Whatever you’re comfortable with.
“We can figure that out together.” He’s soft as he speaks to you and it’s a voice that you remember. A very distinct one in your memory.
“Finnick,” you say again. He nods and shifts closer.
“Sometimes you call me Finn,” he starts, pressing lips to your knuckles. “Or honey. Or idiot if you’re mad at me.”
You smile and he catches a glimpse of you in there, engulfed by everything you’ve seen, everything you’ve been told. But he knows he can pull you out.
“I don’t think I’d ever be mad at you,” you mumble. He purses his lips thoughtfully.
“Well, sometimes I am an idiot. And I know you tell me that because you want to keep me safe.”
You’re in agreement there, not knowing everything but knowing undeniably that you would do anything to protect Finnick.
You shuffle over in the bed and tug at his arm. He tilts his head curiously, knowing what you’re asking but not wanting to be presumptuous.
“You want me to come sit up there with you, sweetheart?”
“Yes please.”
“Okay.” He settles himself next to you, legs outstretched where yours are tucked up tightly to your body. “If it gets too much, you tell me and I’ll go, okay?”
“I don’t want you to go.”
“Then I won’t.”
You shuffle round and swing your legs over his own so you’re almost completely in his lap; his arm comes up and over your shoulders automatically, like muscle memory. This is how you are in your clearest memories- together, a tightly knit partnership. He’s holding his breath, waiting for you to realise what you’re doing and lose composure, but that moment doesn’t come. You just sit and close your eyes, ear to his chest, listening to his heart beat.
“I’m tired,” you croak.
“You want me to leave you to sleep?”
“No.” Your voice is thick and uneven where you’re full of all these new emotions that you can’t quite place. “Will you stay?”
“I’ll stay as long as you want.”
He pulls the thin blanket over your body and smiles as you needle in close to him, face in the juncture of his neck. Hiding with him instead of from him.
“C’mere, sweetheart.” You relax at the pet name, your body going lax against his own as you start to fall asleep.
You can’t be asleep for more than 30 minutes before you start to stir. You’re muttering in your sleep as you start to twitch and reach out for something.
Your brow knits and it forms a crease in the middle of your forehead as you start to cry.
“Honey, c’mon,” Finnick murmurs, his hand pressed to your neck in an effort to rouse you. “It’s just a dream.”
His chest aches; he can’t bear seeing you in this state, knowing there’s not much he can do to make it better. Thinking it’s his fault for not getting to you in time.
You scream and wake with a start, wide-eyed and frantic. Your eyes flit around the clinical looking room as you try to gauge your surroundings and reorient yourself.
“Honey, it’s okay. It was just a dream, you’re safe.”
You scramble back and push him away, curling yourself up into a ball at the foot of the bed. Tears paint your cheeks and they shine in the harsh white lights, hiccuping sobs. He crouches a metre or so away, palms up, arms outstretched in hopes you’ll make contact again.
“Breathe, just breathe,” he says. “You’re okay. I’m here, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”
You’re like a wild animal the way you look at him- panic-stricken and agitated, frenetic in the way you move.
“Honey, it’s me. It’s Finn.”
You swallow thickly and nod, your body slowly starting to unfurl.
“Finn,” you sniffle, holding out your arms. “Finnick.”
He creeps closer still and you practically throw yourself into his arms, face against the hollow of his throat, arms locked around his middle like a vice.
“I have you. I’m right here,” he says, over and over like a mantra. A promise.
“I don’t wanna live like this anymore.”
“You’re not going to,” he whispers. “I’ll be here until you feel well enough and then we can start planning our life. Together.”
“Okay.”
Your fingers card through the short hairs at the nape of his neck, wet eyes meeting his.
“I love you. I know it now, I can remember that.”
“I love you too,” he says, craning his neck to meet your eyes. “You’re my girl.”
You’re hesitant as you tilt your head up to press a kiss to his lips but he welcomes it, his thumb and forefinger holding your chin in place as he pecks you a few more times.
“We’re gonna have a life of our own, I promise.”
“A life of our own.”
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vanessagillings · 28 days
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I’m posting the ever-so-rare photo of myself alongside one of my characters based on my childhood because today is World Autism Acceptance Day, and I wanted to show my little corner of the internet who this particular autistic person is:  
I was officially diagnosed in February, at age 38 (I’m now 39). A lot of people thought I couldn’t be autistic.  Some people who know me in real life still don’t.  And until around 10 years ago, I didn’t think I could be either, because I was nothing like the stereotype media portrays. I was told that autistics lacked empathy (untrue), and never played make-believe (also often untrue) and only enjoyed STEM.  I was — and am — an empathetic artist -- and make believe?  I can spend days sketching finely bedecked bears brewing tea or carefully choosing the right words to weave tapestries of fiction — though perhaps my hyper focus was a bit of a red flag.  Even so, how could autism describe me?  I was a good student.  I got straight A's. I didn’t act out in class.  I can make eye contact…if I must.  And lots of girls hate having their hair brushed with an unholy passion, right?  Clearly I swim in sarcasm like a fish, so autism couldn't be why I was so anxious all the time, could it?
If someone had told me when I was younger what autism ACTUALLY is �� instead of the nonsense I’d seen on screens — I would have seen myself in it.  I didn’t hear that autistics have sensory issues until I was in my mid-twenties, which is when I first began to really research autism symptoms, and I had almost all of them:  sensitivity to light, smells, fabrics, temperatures, textures, and certain touches, all of which make me feel anxious, I fidget (stim), I never know what the hell to do with my hands or where to look, I talk too little or too much, I have special interests, I have entire animated movies memorized shot-by-shot and can remember the first time and place I saw every movie I've ever seen but I often forget what I'm trying to say mid-sentence, I echo movies and tv shows (my husband and I have a whole repertoire of shared echolalias, making up about 20% of our conversations), I was in speech therapy as a kid, I have issues with dysnomia and verbal fluency, I toe-walk, I can't multitask to save my life, I like things just-so, I’m deeply introverted but not shy, I need to recover from all social interaction — even social interaction I enjoy — and I find stupid, every day things like grocery shopping, driving and making appointments overwhelming and intensely stressful, sometimes to the point where I struggle to speak.  It turns out, I am definitely autistic. My results weren't borderline. Not even close. And while these aren’t all of my challenges, and not everyone with these symptoms is autistic, it’s definitely something to look into if you present with all of these things at once. 
So why did it take me so long to get diagnosed? The same bias that exists in media threads through the medical community as well, and because I'm a woman who can discuss the weather while smiling on cue, few people thought I was worth looking into. Even after I was fairly certain I was autistic, receiving an official diagnosis in the US is unnecessarily difficult and expensive, and in my case, completely uncovered by my insurance.  It cost me over $4000, and I could only afford it because my husband makes more money than I do as a freelance illustrator — a job I fell into largely because it didn’t require in-person work; like many autists, I have been chronically underemployed and underpaid, in part due to physical illness in my twenties, which is a topic for another day.  But it shouldn’t be like this.  It shouldn’t be so hard for adults to receive diagnoses and it shouldn’t be so hard for people to see themselves in this condition to begin with due to misinformation and stereotypes. Like many issues in America, these barriers are even higher for marginalized groups with multiple intersectionalities. 
It’s commonly said that if you’ve met one autistic person, you’ve met one autistic person.  This is why it’s called a spectrum, not because there’s a linear progression of severity (someone who appears to have low support needs like myself might need more than it seems, and vice versa), but because every autistic person has their own strengths and weaknesses, challenges and experiences, opinions and needs.  No two people on the spectrum present in the same way.  And that’s a good thing!  No way of being autistic is inherently any better than any other, and even if someone on the spectrum struggles with things I don’t — or can do things I can’t — doesn’t make them more or less deserving of respect and human dignity.
But speaking solely for myself, the more I learn about autism, the happier I am to be autistic.  I struggle to find words and exert fine motor control, but my deep passion and fixation has made me good at art and storytelling anyway.  I find more joy watching dogs and studying leaf shapes on my walks than most people do in an entire day.  More often than not, the barriers I’ve faced weren’t due to my autism directly, but due to society being overly rigid about what it considers a valid way of existing.  My hope in writing this today is that maybe one person will realize that autism isn’t what they thought — and that being different is not the same as being less than. My hope with my fiction is to give autistic children mirrors with which to see themselves, and everyone else windows through which to see us as we actually are.
If you’re interested in learning more about autism or think you might be autistic, too, I recommend the Autism Self Advocacy Network  autisticadvocacy.org and the following books:
What I Mean When I Say I’m Autistic by Annie Kotowicz
We're Not Broken by Eric Garcia
Knowing Why edited by Elizabeth Bartmess
Unmasking Autism by Devon Price, PhD
Loud Hands edited by Julia Bascom
Neurotribes by Steve Silberman
(trigger warning: the last two contain quite a lot of upsetting material involving institutionalized child abuse, but I think it’s important for people to know how often autistic children were — and are — abused simply for being neurodivergent).
Thanks for reading 💛
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retroellie · 29 days
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Mile-high club
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Summary: After a month of not having sex, you decide to be bold with what you want from spencer. Stepping out of both your comfort zones due to complete sexual frustration.
A/N: This one is a bit rushed, but can y'all tell what my faviote spencer era is? Like i love long haired spencer i can not! Also yall... I just turned 19 :) So that's a little life update lmao. Anyways love and miss y'all!!
Warnings: NSFW, public sex and dirty talk
Word count: 5.4K
As with any other case, this case dragged on and on until you felt you were nothing but skin and bones. Cases always left you feeling so empty inside, always so bleak... it always took you a bit to come back to your natural self. The first rule of being a part of the FBI is never to take it personally, don't take it to heart. But how could you not? You're inviting yourself into these people's lives, picking apart their brains, and using that to your advantage. You knew it was for the best but that didn't mean you had to like it.
You were doing what you normally did after cases, drinking hot tea on the jet aching for the sweet release of sleep. This time, however, you weren't aching for sleep. This entire week there was a thought always in the back of your mind, you weren't sure why it was this case specifically but for some reason, the thought lingered. Spencer... You felt yourself heating up every time around him, focusing only on his hands when he was showing you paperwork or squeezing your thighs together as you watched his hips. You had never been the needy one in the relationship, it has always been Spencer... but something about him now left you hungry. You racked it off to just you being hormonal, but you knew it was because Spencer's hands hadn't been on you for a while. Back-to-back cases like these always left no time to get down with Spencer... one downside to this job among many.
Even now, while sitting on the jet, you could only look at him. Emily and JJ were talking about god knows what, while you started across the jet to see your little Spencer. He was reading, his hands so delicately following as he read... His hair had gotten long, almost touching his shoulders now. You had gotten real used to pulling on it, sometimes subconsciously doing it as you hugged him. You started to think about how he looked last time you made him whimper, the picture burnt into your brain as you slid yourself up and down until he begged you to stop. "too much...." was all he could muster up, his wrist rubbing against the rope as he so badly wanted to reach up to touch you.
"You hear Y/N?" You heard a voice say, your heart dropping as you whipped your head towards it.
The voice belonged to Emily, her eyebrow raised as she wondered what you were thinking. She could see that something was up and not just because she was a profiler. Anyone who could see how you were looking at Spencer could see exactly how you were feeling, sexually frustrated. The way you gripped onto your coffee mug, and bit the inside of your lip roughly... basically eye fucked Spencer. Obviously, you could never tell Emily how you were thinking about Spencer being so pussy drunk that it physically hurt him. So you just sent a smile over to her, brought your tea to your lips, and nodded.
"Yeah! Sorry..." You kept the grin on your face, your embarrassment getting the best of you as you began to become flustered. "Just a bit distracted today."
You flicked your eyes between my cup and Emily, not wanting to make too much eye contact in the state you were in, your state being extremely turned on. It was gross to even admit, but even just looking at Spencer... your body reacted. Emily looked over at JJ, shooting her a look. You caught onto this, but not sure what that look even meant. JJ just chuckled softly, shifting herself in her chair. You looked between them, feeling as though you were left out of a really funny inside joke of theirs. Emily looked back at you, giving you a smirk.
"I can see that..." She leaned back in her chair, hands placed on her stomach as she read your confusion. "Been a while?"
Her words confused you, not sure what she meant by that. You now started feeling like you were the butt of the joke, feeling like you did in high school when girls would giggle behind you. "Been a while." Could mean anything, has it been a while since you showered? Has it been a while since you ate? Has it been a while since you went to a concert? The possibilities were endless yet Emily still expected an answer. You furrowed your brows, cocking your head to the side.
"What?" You asked, genuinely needing an explanation before you could even answer her question. Emily chuckled once again, looking back at Spencer before huddling herself closer to you as if she had to tell you a huge secret.
"You and Spencer?" That was all she said.
Your heart dropped, was Emily a mind reader? or were you just that frustrated that it was written on your skin? Her words made you think, however, how long has it been? It was definitely before this case and the one before it... then there was that 4-day conference y'all were forced to attend, well then that one week you got your period and didn't feel like doing anything but laying in bed... You would say it's been a good month, maybe a little more. This was definitely not normal for you two, sex was like food to the two of you. It was y'alls way to destress from cases, it became so normal to go home after a long case and bang it out. Trust and believe this drought had been taking a toll on you, you were so horny that you could start humping Spencer's leg at any moment, just like a dog in heat.
You hesitated to answer, not wanting to cross that boundary with Emily but also not wanting to be humiliated. You were the more private person when it came to the BAU, you would come in and do your work... that's it. Obviously, you were a part of the BAU family, you knew everyone's business and you would hang out with them outside of work. But you were a mystery to everyone there, well except Spencer, he had quite literally known you inside and out. As of right now though, you were frustrated and in need of a rant so that boundary didn't exist for you today.
"Is it that noticeable?" You said sarcastically, scoffing as you did so. You hated the feeling of being easily read, but the frustration was sloshing around inside you so it was only a matter of time before the people around you figured it out. Emily chuckled softly, looking over at JJ before she spoke.
"I mean you have been grouchy, you're not focused, and well..." Emily paused, she was now reading you like a book. "You've been undressing Spencer with your eyes this entire trip."
You wanted to melt into the ground, and let the worms use your flesh as food. You were embarrassed, completely and utterly ashamed of her words. You were acting like a starved man, only able to focus on the mere thought of food... like a complete glutton-driven man. You never really knew how much you needed sex, you started to wonder if you always had this need deep inside you. You remember before Spencer, you went months without an orgasm and was perfectly fine. Maybe it was Spencer, maybe his cock switched something on inside your pussy... or maybe other men hadn't been doing it right.
You felt your cheeks heat up but at the same time, your body ran cold. All you could do was watch as Emily snickered at your reaction, like your embarrassment was the funniest thing she had ever seen. You were much younger than Emily and JJ, you were newer to this world and newer to sex than they were. Trust and believe that both women have had their share of droughts, so this is not new to them. They weren't trying to embarrass you or make you feel you needed to be ashamed. No, they just found it amusing that you were so blinded to the fact you were so obvious with your motives. Let's just say your subtle touches and comments towards Spencer weren't so subtle.
"I just..." You start, your voice sounding as though you were pouting and honestly... you were pouting. "It used to be every day! Every night, after work... like clockwork! But this stupid fucking job is getting in the way of us, I mean sex is how we communicate!"
Your voice is rising, alerting the sleeping Derek who sat right behind you. He was too tired to even comprehend what you were talking about, which surprised you because he always teased you and Spencer about your sex life. The girls didn't laugh this time, only watched as you looked like you were going crazy. They didn't realize how upset you were about this, this felt it went far beyond sex to you. It did in some sense, as said before you and Spencer were always having sex so if there was no sex happening... there was no and him happening either. This could turn into a therapy session, you could cry about how you felt ignored and put aside but it wasn't that at all... you were just so horny for Spencer, this frustration building up and ready to burst. JJ sighed softly, patting you on the shoulder.
"I get it... I mean we get it." She points between her and Emily, shooting Emily a smile. "Y/N... You need to have sex or you're going to go insane."
Emily nods, agreeing with JJ's clear over-exaggeration. You felt like you were already going insane, you couldn't do anything without the thought of Spencer's cock down your throat completely eliminating your focus. So although it was clear JJ was being dramatic about it, you felt it was pretty accurate for the feeling inside you. You let out a sigh, pushing your hair back as you leaned back in your chair. You have been at this job for 4 years, and insanity came with the job, so this feeling of complete and utter insanity due to not having sex was killing you simply because it was so new to you.
"Trust me, I know." Was all you said, biting your lip softly as your eyes flicked over to Spencer once more.
He was now leaning back in his chair, his thighs slightly opened as his hands were placed on them delicately. He was looking out the window, watching the clouds go by as the sun started to set. You couldn't help but look at his veiny hands placed so pretty on his thighs, you suddenly gained tunnel vision and your eyes started to outline his cock. Spencer sensed you looking at him, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up as he turned his head. He made eye contact with you, sending you a soft smile. Talk about the straw that broke the camel's back, that opened the floodgates inside of you.
"You know what you should do?" JJ asked, trying to get your attention, and in only milliseconds... she had it. "You need to make him want it, it's what I used to do with Will all the time when I was pregnant, and believe me pregnancy hormones are no joke."
How does one go about making someone want them? You were no stranger in the teasing scene, it was your favorite thing to do with Spencer. But you haven't even had 2 seconds to tease him since the drought started, so you were a bit out of practice. Spencer would usually be a puddle on the floor you stepped on in seconds when you teased him, but he was so stressed that he couldn't tell his ass from his head sometimes. You were more than willing to know how JJ did it, and how she made men want her in times of desperation. 
"How?" You ask, feeling slightly more embarrassed by your sudden confusion. JJ thinks for a second, looking over at Emily for her to pitch in at any moment.
"There's many ways to do it, all people are different Y/N" Emily chuckled, looking over at JJ who was still thinking about how she even managed to seduce Will like she did. "My advice is just be overly affectionate with him, you know? Touch him more, show a little more skin, laugh louder... Just make it known, be loud with it."
You took in her words, especially the "make it known" and "be loud with it". You felt you could do that, with how frustrated you had become you could see yourself screaming for him to just fuck you. It would be a bit hard because Spencer is kind of not good with social cues, if you try to flirt with him sometimes, he just throws statistics your way. You repeated the words "make it known" in your head, how could you make it known... at that moment as you repeated it in your head like a mantra, you had such a devilish idea. Your hands almost started shaking due to excitement, the feeling taking over your body as you went to speak.
"I can do that..." You said with a smile, standing up from your seat and fixing your shirt. "I need to use the restroom, be right back."
You basically ran to the bathroom, zooming past Spencer who was quite confused at your sudden rush. You locked yourself in the small bathroom, the excitement taking over your body as you could see yourself start doing handstands due to excitement. You pulled out your phone, setting yourself on the small counter sink as you started to pull your shirt off. You weren't sure how to do this, your nerves getting the best of you as you clicked on your camera. You had no time to think, you just pulled your shirt off and aimed your camera at your chest.
The first one was more of a softcore nude, only in your bra as your hand laid on your chest. You took a couple of pictures with your bra on, then you clicked through them, deleting the ones you didn't like. You would've stopped there but you wanted to go the extra mile, you were "being loud" with it as Emily would say. You pulled your bra off, watching it fall to the floor, the nerves in your stomach only fooling you to go further. You pointed the camera at your chest, snapping a couple of pictures. Again, you weren't good at this... you never claimed to be, so you took pictures from multiple angles and positions. Some you were squeezing them together, some you weren't.... you weren't a model or a photographer so you were working with what you had.
You finished, hopping down from the sink and putting your clothes back on. You sat on the lidded toilet, scrolling through the pictures as you picked the ones you would send. You were nervous to say the least, you knew it was just Spencer but you had never taken sex outside of the bedroom before. This was new, this was scary... this was so arousing. You clicked on Spencer's name, his name being "spencie poop" In your phone, you clicked on the pictures you wanted and hovered over the send button. Would this work? what if he isn't into it as much as you are? What were you even doing?
"Make it known. be loud with it." You repeated in your head, closing your eyes before clicking the send button. It took only seconds for it to send the anticipation building in your stomach. You decided to stay sitting in the toilet for a little longer, getting yourself together before you faced the world behind the small bathroom door. You knew Spencer wouldn't see the pictures until later on, knowing that he always put his phone on silent as he hated technology, especially when it interrupted his reading time. You wondered how he would react, knowing that Spencer didn't know how to react to most things. You wouldn't be surprised if Spencer sent you a thumbs up and a message saying how pretty you look, you weren't sure this would even work in your favor.
You gathered yourself, breathing in and out before you stood up to leave the bathroom. As you reached for the door, there was a small knock on it. You assumed it was someone who needed to use the bathroom, you had been in there for a good 15 minutes before you decided to leave. You reached for the door, opening it... Your heart dropped, your entire body went hot and your underwear became wetter than before. It was Spencer, his face was bright red and his hands shook softly. He didn't give you time to even open the door all the way before he barged into the small bathroom with you, shutting and locking the door behind you.
"Are you crazy?" He whispered, hoping no one else saw him or heard him come in. You were pressed against the sink, Spencer pressed against you as the small bathroom was not made for two. "Are you trying to get me in trouble? what if someone had seen?"
Spencer looked upset but his hard cock against your stomach gave his true feelings away. Spencer could never be mad at you, you knew this and you took advantage of it often. Unfortunately, Spencer was very by the books, he followed all the rules but when it came to you... rules didn't exist. So he wasn't actually upset about the pictures, he was just frustrated you decided to send them now. While Hotch was sitting right next to him, a clear shot of his phone and everything. You bit your lip softly, your eyes being pulled toward his cock rubbing against your belly, there was no hiding that in this small compact area.
"Seems like you liked them.." You teased softly, chuckling out as you looked up at him with doe eyes.
Spencer could have come then and there, your innocence creating a deep desire within him. He let out a sigh, his breath panning across your face as he did so smelling of coffee and mint. You brought your hand up to his tie, fiddling with it softly as you stood on your tiptoes, trying to come face-to-face with him. Spencer's breath hitched as your lips brushed his own, his mind going foggy and forgetting where he was in the moment... Something inside him though reminded him, the small voice in the back of his head telling him this was a bad idea and the team was only feet away from you both. As you started to undo his belt, He grabbed onto your shoulders, pushing you back softly.
"Y/N, that was extremely inappropriate..." He said sternly, trying not to give in to your pleading eyes. "Hotch was right next to me an..."
His words were cut off by your hand grasping his cock softly. In the short time, he had been scolding you, you managed to stuff your hand down his pants, Spencer was far too focused on trying to not give into your motives he didn't even realize. Spencer became putty just then, your hand rubbing his cock slowly cutting his iq down by 100. You knew this was also a horrible idea, I mean were you really going to let your twisted, horny mind risk your job? The answer was, yes... yes you were. If it meant that Spencer would be inside of you, then you would do anything.
"I know baby... I've been so bad." You whispered out, your hand still wrapped around his cock. You fluttered your eyes up at him, watching as his ability to control himself slowly disappeared. "But I had to! it's been so long, you have me all worked up and it's starting to hurt."
You rub his cock softly, his own eyes fluttering shut as you turn him into putty. Spencer hadn't even realized how long it had been, he didn't have much time to think about anything but work nowadays. He didn't realize it until he almost came in your hand just from a few pumps. His body had heated up, his cheeks red as you slid your thumb across his tip. His head was foggy but he still couldn't get past the thought that his boss was just outside the small bathroom you both had been in. He stiffened himself up again, putting a hand on your wrist.
"Y/N, the team is inches away from us." He spoke, pulling your hands from his pants and doing up his belt again. "I promise you I will let you do whatever when we get home to make up for these last couple of weeks okay?"
Trust and believe that it took Spencer his entire self-control to say no to you, especially after seeing those pictures. Your half-naked body, the way you looked up at the camera for him. He wasn't sure if he would be able to get his cock to soften after knowing those pictures existed, he knew this was going to be a long trip home. He struggled with getting his belt looped, his hands shook so vigorously that they were no help to him. You finally reached your hand out to stop his hands, reaching up to lift his head to look up at you.
"Spencer, if you tell me to stop right now... I will." You spoke, you were frustrated and it was so obvious you both needed this. "I will stop and we can walk out of here like nothing happened okay? I just need you to say "I want this to stop." and that's it, I'll stop. But all i need is 5 minutes, I'll get us both off and no one will even notice.``
Spencer thought for a moment, seeing how serious you were. He knew you would never force him to do anything, so he knew if he really did tell you to stop, you would. but he really didn't want you to stop, his "professional FBI agent" side told him to stop but his "love drunk" side didn't want you to stop. All he could think about was your pictures and how uncomfortable this boner was going to be for the rest of the plane ride if he didn't just flat-out fuck you.
He tried to calculate just how far away the team was from the two of you and what the chances of them hearing the two of you were. He came up with it being 72% they won't hear the two of you, due to the fact the bathroom is a bit insulated and most of the team liked to sit far from the bathroom. You could see him doing this math in his head just by the look on his face, you chuckled to yourself knowing this was a complete Spencer Reid thing. Spencer struggled internally, both his logical and hormonal sides butting heads just as he looked down at you with those pretty doe eyes you kept giving him. Spencer was going to burst, the month of no sex finally catching up to him all at once.
"Fuck it..." He said right before crashing his lips onto yours.
Now Spencer Reid must have really been frustrated as he never used words like that, but something about you just sent him over the edge each time. You kissed him back immediately, his hands kept your mouth on him as his tongue slid into your mouth. It was all so fast-paced, just like you said it would be... you just needed five minutes. You reached down to his half-done belt and started undoing it once more, trying to focus on his lips and your hands at the same time. Spencer was so completely engulfed in the kiss that he couldn't even contemplate helping you at all, he just pressed you against the sink hinting at you to hop on it.
You positioned yourself on the sink, Spencer's hands going to your ass to prevent you from falling into it. You finally got his pants undone, pulling them down so only his cock could bounce free causing a soft groan to fall from his lips. You smirked softly into the kiss, feeling just as hard he had gotten just from your little "fight".
"Really liked them huh?" You said through the kiss, Spencer just kissed you harder trying to get you to shut up.
You just laughed softly, your hands now going to your own pants to take them off. You struggled with your pants, trying to keep Spencer's mouth satisfied with your mouth while also trying to get out of your very tight pants. Spencer noticed this, pulling away from you to help you slide your pants down your thighs and watching them bunch up on your ankles. As soon as they were out of the way, Spencer didn't even bother with your panties, he just pushed them to the side and slid himself into you.
"Fuc.." Was all he could get out before he stuffed his face into your neck, silencing his moans that were bound to come out.
Your eyes immediately rolled to the back of your head, gripping onto his shoulders for support. You felt whole again, his cock sliding inside of you like it never left. Spencer didn't sit still for long before he started thrusting inside of you, his hands gripping your hips roughly. Spencer's thrust started rough and fast, taking your word for it only taking 5 minutes. To avoid suspicion and losing your job, you both needed to hurry up and get off.
You couldn't help but get lost in the feeling, finally after weeks of needing to be fucked and it's actually happening plus the feeling of getting caught only added to the pleasure. You thrust back into Spencer, lifting your hips off the counter just to slam your own hips into his. It went like this for minutes, both of you breathing heavily and using each other's bodies to get off. Suddenly you felt a knot inside of your form, your hands moving up to his hair to pull on it to alert him.
"Gonna cum... fuck gonna cum." You whispered into his ear, as his face was still stuffed between your neck and your shoulder. He was afraid if he replied, he was going to not be able to control the moans that came from his throat.
He just thrusted faster, his hand coming up to rest on the mirror as you both were being pushed further and further up onto the sink so the faucet was almost digging into your back. He let out a couple of soft whimpers as his thrust became sloppier, his eyes tearing up as his cock twitched. He'd never come this fast before, only besides the first few times you both had fucked, but this was a record and it was clear he had become so backed up that this was definitely needed.
He came first, coating the inside of your walls with his hot cum, fucking himself through his own orgasm as well as coaxing you to your own. You came only moments later, the feeling of his warm breath on your neck and his hot cum inside of you... you broke. You came with a soft moan and your nails digging into his shoulders. It wasn't the best orgasm he had ever given you but it was so needed, it felt like you had been given water after days of dehydration.
As said before, you needed to be quick so after a few seconds of recovering from ecstasy, you both were pulling your clothes back on. It felt dirty in a way, aftercare, and soft kisses weren't a luxury you had at the moment. You watched as he pulled his pants back on, once again struggling with his belt. You realized how lighter and rested he looked now like the quickie was the thing he was missing his entire life. You chuckled softly, moving your hands down to his belt to help him loop it through.
"Guess we just joined the mile-high club huh?" You smirked up at him, his face still red with lust. Spencer chuckled softly, watching as your hands fixed his belt.
Spencer was almost embarrassed that he allowed you to sit high and dry for almost a month straight, he hadn't even thought of touching you that entire time. Although his mind had been elsewhere the entire time, it still felt wrong for a person to completely deny you of anything. Spencer felt he needed sex as much as you did, something he would have never thought he would ever need. He now understands why Morgan is the way he is, the constant need to feel that closeness to someone... to feel so vulnerable, especially in a job where vulnerability is a weakness. You noticed that Spencer had been in his head again, he always just had that look to him.
"You okay?" You asked, your hands now fixing his hair slightly. "I didn't push a boundary did i?"
Spencer shook his head almost immediately, the feeling of any discomfort so far away it wasn't even there. Spencer felt completely comfortable with you, even if it was such a weird situation to be in. He just got into his own head a lot, letting his mind wander and making up all kinds of assumptions about things. The assumption on his mind right now was that maybe having a healthy, functioning relationship in this field was almost impossible. You both hadn't had a single conversation that wasn't about a case or coffee or anything that didn't involve the office, in weeks. Could you both go on like that or are you both destined to just have quickies in the jet bathroom for the rest of your careers.
"No! Of course not!" He breathed out, basking in your soft hands touching his face softly, something you had done to comfort him. "Just wanted to say sorry for being so distant lately, didn't know you were feeling this...ignored?"
He wasn't sure what the right word to use was and honestly, you didn't know either. You weren't actually angry with him, just frustrated especially when your only kind of stress release was coming home and fucking him till he cried. You continued to rub his cheek softly with your thumb, pushing his hair back from his face.
"I'm not mad honey." You chuckled, trying to reassure him that he did nothing wrong. "Just please start checking in with me okay? So the feelings don't build up and we have to risk our jobs again."
Your joke caused Spencer to crack a smile, his laugh filling the small bathroom. He nodded, leaning down to set a soft kiss on your lips. The reality started to sit in however, you both just fucked on the job basically and the embarrassment and shame were written all over both of you. You both had only been gone for 15ish minutes so it was going to be an easy lie to come up with, you'll probably blame it on your motion sickness that you actually feel often on the jet. You both agreed on a story, you had gotten sick and asked Spencer to hold your hair back, easy enough. You went to open the door, taking a breath before facing your team again.
"Hey y/n?" Spencer spoke, stopping you in your tracks before you opened the door. You gave him your full attention, turning to see his eyes once again filled the lust. "I did like them...You should definitely start, you know I'm...Sending them more often."
You let out a soft chuckle, rolling your eyes before walking out of the bathroom. You both nonchalantly went back to your seats, as if nothing happened. JJ and Emily were talking about something when you got back, completely lost in conversation to realize what had just happened. You looked around at everyone, trying to see an inch of disgust or knowing on their faces. Fortunately, everyone was oblivious to the events that happened in the bathroom so you could relax in your seat. You tried to listen in on JJ and Emily's conversation, putting your two cents in here and there but your eyes kept flicking over to Spencer. He was now boring his eyes into your skin, making your body heat up once again. You could tell that what was supposed to be a simple quickie, was definitely not over yet and it was going to be a long trip home. 
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shijas · 1 year
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🥂!
#delete later#ranting softly in my tags again please ignore this post aha#sometimes i wonder how the people in my direct family see me! and maybe it’s cuz this holiday season i’ve been extra introspective#but i often feel vvv lonely ! which is like so silly because i don’t doubt they love me and i have what i always say are really good friends#to keep positive energy in the universe ! but there’s always this pressure when i’m around people ! how much of the real me can i be! what#is the limit before i become intolerable you know ? and it’s like if i can’t even been intolerable with the people who i would willingly#take the brunt of their own intolerability ? who will i ever allow myself to be myself around#and yeah idk i feel like to them i’m such an tough person? like i’m argumentative and whiny and childish but those are the earliest ways i#learnt not only how to defend myself but be myself in a sense#when i was younger my mum used to say i’m too soft hearted and kind#and i ended up in friendships and situations where that led to me being the only one hurting#and ultimately feeling lonely#but idk if they realise for all of these things at the end of the day i may show a bit my discontent towards their actions towards me#but i always give up! i always just go with whatever they decide to the point that i don’t really know how to voice my own opinions in#certain things since i’m so used to deferring#like i have gotten so used to accepting that ultimately the issue always lays with me and i have to change#because that’s what they want of me#and now i’m an adult who feels lonely by herself because she doesn’t know how to be herself around people she loves#who truly believes that no one loves the real her#facets of me are truly loveable ! and i think ik pretty well where my limits of toleration are but i live in fear#that one day everyone will have had enough#and more than that i like being lonely it feels safe most of the time ! if no one knows you how can they truly hurt you#but then why am i always hurt and why do i desepertaely sometimes feel the weight of the loneliness#anyway! what a bunch of probably incompressible babbling#happy new year i grit my teeth and lived so that’s how i shall continue
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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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lovebugism · 10 months
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could i request “mean” eddie and reader going swimming somewhere and maybe she’s in her swimsuit and someone says something that makes him jealous? also just want to say i love you writing sm!!! <3
hi, lovely! thanks so much for your request and your kind words!! i hope you like it xoxo (1.7k)
bug's summer fic fest ♡
Eddie can’t stop staring at you.
It’s not like it’s his fault, though. You’re all sprawled out beside him in a plastic lounge chair, clad only in a bathing suit that leaves little to the imagination. It’s an all-black number with little white bats all over it, clinging to you like it was made to do it.
It’s a wonder the two of you even made it to Hawkins Community Pool, honestly. Eddie's thoughts verge on obscene at the sight of you. But then again, they tend to when you're on his mind.
You lay with your hands folded above your head, totally surrendering yourself to the golden sunlight. It gives Eddie the opportunity to gaze at you fully — even though sometimes he thinks he’s already memorized you by now.
He analyzes you like it’s the first time he’s ever seen you, like you’re the last thing he’ll ever see.
The pudge of the top of your breast spills over the hem of your bikini. The skin of your stomach bulges underneath your high-waisted bottoms. The fullness of your thighs begins to glow beneath the glittering daylight.
He commits all of this to memory and figures maybe that’s what the sun’s doing too, as it paints your skin more golden.
He doesn’t know how he got you. 
But he hopes your eyes are closed behind your thick glasses. Or, at the very least, that they block your view of him. Eddie knows he’s unabashedly staring at you, but he also knows he can’t stop. He doesn’t want his ogling to be met with your teasing — even if he is deserving of it.
The Lord of the Rings book in his hands goes quickly abandoned. It’s a feat he even made it to page fifty. He’s flipped through it enough times to memorize it, though. Sort of like you.
Like the novel, he could read you a million times and never get bored. The only real difference is he finds you much, much sexier than printed words on a page.
“I can feel you staring, you know?” 
Your voice jolts him from his stupor, light and golden like the slowly setting sun. Your words are nearly drowned out by the sounds of the bustling pool — screaming kids, splashing water, and people trying to converse over it all.
Eddie’s far too attuned to you not to hear you, though.
You’re not looking at him, but he can see the corner of your lip quirk in a slight half-smile.
“Can you?” he deadpans, turning back to his book like he hadn’t been looking at you at all.
The words are all mush, though. He’ll blame it on the stifling summer heat. He was the idiot out here in a black t-shirt and trunks, after all.
“Yeah,” you nod.
He sees your smile completely when you turn to look at him. The sun pierces through your amber lenses, making your eyes more visible beneath them. You’ve got one eye squinted to evade the blinding light. The beam you wear is somehow brighter.
“’S like spidey senses, you know? I can always tell when you’re looking at me, Munson.”
Eddie wants to be embarrassed at the thought. He knows that you’re joking — if only just the slightest bit — but it makes him think about all the other times he’s shamelessly gawked at you. He spent years doing it before you ever got together.
Many of his high school years were spent paying more attention to you than his homework. He thinks maybe that’s why he had such a hard time graduating.
“You’re saying my girlfriend’s a superhero?” the boy jokes, brows raised behind his curly bangs and chocolate eyes going wide. They look more golden in the sunlight, and they twinkle with mischief.
“Uh-huh,” you hum with a wider smile than before. “You didn’t know?”
He shakes his head. Some of his curls still stick to him, damp with the sweat beading on his milky skin. “No. I can confidently say that I didn’t.”
“Good. It was supposed to be a secret, anyway.”
Eddie doesn’t mean to laugh, but he does.
It’s a sharp exhale through his nose more than anything, paired with a crooked pink smile. He wishes he knew how much of a dork you were a year ago. He might’ve asked you out sooner.
“Brush up on your spidey senses before you go out patrolling the neighborhood, alright, Spiderwoman?” he jests in a monotone, turning the page of his book even though he hadn’t actually read it. “’Cause I totally wasn’t staring at you.”
You know he’s lying.
And it’s not just because you could feel it — even though you think his button-eyed gaze can be palpable in its attentiveness at times. But what you lacked in superhero senses, you made up for in awareness of all things Eddie Munson. 
You knew when he got quiet that he was in his own head. And being that you hadn’t heard a single page turn in several minutes, you figured his eyes must’ve been on something other than the book in his hands.
Your quip was hardly more than a lucky guess, really.
“Good,” you hum as you flip over onto your stomach. Your backside had been completely deprived of sunlight before now. You prop yourself up on your elbows and lift your sunglasses to the top of your head. Your teasing gaze is no longer amber-coated. “‘Cause that would mean you find me attractive.”
“And that would just be a travesty, wouldn’t it?” Eddie scoffs.
He looks over at you again and finds your changed position. Your back is pointed towards the sun now, the very bottom of your ass on full display. Your thighs are indented softly from the slatted chair beneath you.
He can’t pry his eyes off the combination of the two despite knowing you’re watching him right back.
“It’s okay if you have the hots for me, Eds,” you tell him, feigning sympathy. “I’d only make fun of you a little bit.”
Eddie stays silent for half a moment too long, then shakes his head to dismiss the thought. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. It’s just the heat.”
You scoff. “Yeah. Let’s blame the way you’re ogling at me on sunstroke.”
He still finds it a bit difficult to be your boyfriend sometimes — or just a boyfriend. And it’s not because of you. Not in the slightest. He just sort of put a wall around himself when he was younger. He’s been behind it so long he’s forgotten how to let people back in.  
And even though he hasn’t said it yet, he loves the goddamn shit outta you. But for some reason, he can’t let himself be vulnerable in that way — can’t even ask to touch you without coming up with some lame excuse that covers up all his vulnerable-ness.
“You, uh… You put sunscreen on, right?” he asks, shifting slightly in his chair. He spares a brief glance your way from the corner of his eye, halfway concealed by the fluffy brown curls framing his face.
“Yeah?” you answer with pinched brows. “Right after I forced you to put some on, remember?”
He scrunches his nose as he squints at you. It takes everything in you not to lean over and kiss the tip of it. “I don’t know,” the boy singsongs as he tilts his head to his shoulder. “I don’t remember it, actually…”
“Then maybe you’re the one that needs to get checked out, Eds.”
“I think I should just put some lotion on your back,” he summarizes with a shrug, already rising from his chair to swing his legs over the side of it. “You know, just to be safe.”
The teasing glint in his eyes makes you grin. You trap your bottom lip between your teeth to dim its brightness, lest how happy he makes you go to his head.
Your feet lift in their air and twist together with a girlish excitement. It makes your ass wiggle gently. Eddie swears you’re doing it just to tease him.
“Get my legs, too, while you’re at, yeah?” you quip.
Eddie reaches for the tote beside your chair with an effervescence that can only be described as a boy on Christmas morning — his present: the opportunity to touch you. He rises again with the blue bottle in his hand.
A low whistle sounds from behind the both of you.
“Looking good, sweetheart,” Billy compliments with a smirk as he walks by your chair. He’s in his lifeguard uniform — a pair of red swim trunks and his toned, golden torso.
He lifts his sunglasses from his face and rests them on top of his curled mullet. His crystal blue eyes gape at you, far sharper than Eddie’s chocolate syrup ones.
“Bite me, Hargrove,” you deadpan in response.
“I like the sound of that,” he laughs, chomping spearmint gum between his pearly white teeth. He spins on his flip-flops and walks backward to keep ogling at you. “Just give me the word and I’m yours, darlin’.”
He disappears in the bustling crowd after that, fading like rubbed-in sunscreen. You forget about him the second he’s gone.
He’s always been an asshole like that. It’d be a rookie mistake to give more than half a shit about him. But Eddie still feels the boy’s presence like a mean, lean, green monster full of envy. It’s like he’s still there — close enough to punch, even.
He isn’t sure if it’s the heat or if he’s actually seeing red.
“What an asshole,” you murmur under your breath.
“I’m gonna kill him,” Eddie snaps.
“Whoa,” you drawl within a laugh. “Slow your roll, tiger.”
The boy's eyes go wide as he looks over at you again. “I’m not even sure what I just said, honestly.”
“You’re a dork who plays Dungeons and Dragons, remember? You can’t start talking about fighting Billy Hargrove.”
“Yeah. You’re probably right,” he sighs, rigid body finally loosening with the heavy exhale. He squints at you after. “You don’t think I could take him?”
“I don’t thank you have to,” you lilt.
“That’s such a non-answer, babe.”
“I’m just saying,” you giggle with a shrug. “I’m asking you to feel me up, Eds. Not that creep.”
A rosy smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth, smug and full of love.
You meet it with a grin of your own. 
“C’mon, I’m burning to a crisp over here,” you urge, shifting in the chair just to make your thighs jiggle in the way you know Eddie likes.
His eyes glaze over at the sight — one he’s seen a million times now — and you know it’s done the trick.
“Let’s give Hargrove a show, yeah?”
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Note
First off, not to kiss ass, but I really love your writing! I follow three people, one of which is my best friend, and you’re one of them. I always come back to your account for content! Anyways, I just wanted to voice my appreciation real quick. lmao
Aside from all that yapping, if you’re alright with it, I’d love to read some Alastor x reader headcanons, specifically about Alastor’s shadows, and how they act (and if they’re a little naughty sometimes with the reader 😏💀) before Alastor and reader start dating. Maybe they try to encourage him to ask her out? Idk, I just have random ideas floating around in my head. I completely understand if you’re uncomfortable with the idea or just too busy with others, but I just wanted to request since I saw your post about it!
Anyways, ily! ❤️
A/N: i appreciate you so much omg 🫶, thank you sm im so glad you like my writing it honestly means so much. I feel like Alastor’s shadows are so under appreciated but they’re also probably the biggest Alastor haters out here, like they probably piss him off a lot of the time when he isn’t doing business. As for the reader, they definitely steal Alastor’s girl 😏. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this!!
Warnings: shadow magic, AFAB reader, use of she/her pronouns, mentions of death, Alastor being Alastor, his shadows love you <3
Navigation!! // Masterlist!!
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Alastor’s shadows are almost always out to get him
Maybe it’s revenge, who knows, but Alastor hates it
When he first met you his shadows were over the moon about it
They always know what he’s feeling, even before he’s ready to admit them
So after you two first met they started to approach you more
You didn’t notice them at first, going on about your tasks in the hotel
Until you were cleaning a mirror and saw them behind you dancing
You just laughed and shooed them away lightheartedly, but it didn’t work
They tended to bounce between following Alastor and following you around
You had been taking a bath when one of them showed up, peering above the side of the tub
“Go away you, I need some sort of privacy” You said laughing, a bit of water spilling over the tub and within seconds the shadow was gone
Now we all know his shadows tell him any and everything
But they’re just as involved in the gossip as Angel
They’ll go to him and tell him things about you, who you were with, what you were doing, even down to the scent of your perfume
“Hello dear!”
“ Hello Alastor. Anything I can help with?” You asked. He grinned, his smile stretching ear to ear
“ Well I was just curious if you happen to know where the princess could be?”
He asks, his eyes flicking to the wall behind you for a minute.
The shadows dancing in with your own, making cringy gestures to Alastor, teasing him.
“ Oh actually I think she left to an interview with Vaggie earlier today. But that was the last I’d seen her.” You reply, but you don’t notice them behind you. His smile strains, pulling you close and walking down the hall.
“ Well my dear since we are under unsupervised vision why don’t we go out for lunch! My treat of course.”
He’s casual, as if he didn’t just steal you away from his shadows who still wanted to mingle in your presence more.
Whenever he talks to you they’ll just get really excited and cheer a lot behind you, pointing to you and making little kissy faces
he hates it
When you two start dating they only get worse in their antics
They constantly follow you around, acting as if they’re your shadows
Sometimes they take things from you to mess with you but it’s all in friendly spirit
You were doing your hair once and got distracted because one hand insisted on dancing with you
Alastor can never really have you to himself thanks to them, which he absolutely hates
“ Do you mind?”
He’ll ask, the static in his voice only louder as he clutches you to his side. The shadows stand and cross their arms, giving him the sass right back
“ They’re just having fun.” You say, and he lets it slide only because it doesn’t entirely bother you
Now they have joined in whenever Alastor and you try to get alone time
This is also the only time they aren’t against Alastor but more against you
If you ever thought of backing up into a wall to get away from Alastor think again because he’s right behind you sweetheart ;)
If you ever do flirt with them they’ll get really excited and run to Alastor about it, excitedly whispering what you’ve done
If you ever need Alastor and he isn’t near, you’ll usually have his shadows bring him to you
The perks of being with Alastor is he can never really run as long as his shadows are wrapped around your finger ;)
It was late and the hotel was quiet. Sitting in a warm bath Y/n ran the soap over her arms and down her torso, unwinding from the busy day. Until she saw shadowy eyes staring at her from above the rim of the bathtub.
“ Oh hello.” She said smiling, pausing in her actions. The shadow did nothing, sitting still and watching her shyly. “Do you happen to know where Alastor is?” She asked, leaning over a bit so the water flowed off her body easily, her torso now visible.
The shadows eyes went wide, nodding furiously. “Hmm, how about you,” she said, now eye level with the shadow, getting closer. “ bring him to me.”
The shadow had never disappeared quicker, and in its place was a confused Alastor, now kneeling in front of the tub, noticeably lost.
“Oh, Hello my dear! Something the matter?”
He asked, before she grinned, her hand reaching forward to pull him to her by the tie.
“ You’ll find out.”
Bonus:
“Dear they are actively trying to take you from me.” Alastor says, his smile strained and eyes twitching.
“Don’t be so mean, they just need some love too that’s all. Isn’t that right?” You coo, the shadows huddling around you more in a group hug. You giggle as some tickle your sides.
“This is criminal.”
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skyahri · 1 month
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How They'd Do You |Naruto Men X Reader| HC
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Characters: Sasuke Uchiha, Kakashi Hatake, Shikamaru Nara, Madara Uchiha, and Naruto Uzumaki.
Summary: How they are in bed.
Warnings: NSFW. Mentions of sex and foreplay. Breeding kink, breast and nipple play, head, etc.
- - - - -
Sasuke Uchiha
Sasuke isn't one to give up control very easily, especially when he's in any sort of vulnerable state.
More often than not, he's on top of you, forcing your legs against your chest and not holding anything back as he thrusts into you.
On the rare occasion he allows you to top, he's still 100% in control. He always ends up taking over towards the end when he can't take it anymore. His release is close, and something in his brain is begging him to rail you.
He wouldn't be into actual choking in fear he'd lose control of his strength, but he's not afraid to use your neck as a handle of sorts to keep your body from moving too much.
Hes the embodiment of a breeding kink.
He's close to his end. He places his hand on your stomach and forces his seed in you.
If he's still got stamina, he's pushing you onto your hands and knees for round two, ass high up in the air.
"Not a single drop spills. Got it?"
Emergency contraceptive is your best friend, but let's be real. It fails sooner rather than later based on the sheer amount you rely on it.
Kakashi Hatake
Foreplay king. He loves head, both giving and receiving, sometimes even at the same time. Nipple play, fingering, whatever it is you're needing, he's providing.
Passionate.
When he does share his mind, it's never a light matter, and sex is no different.
Kissing, hand holding, praising - it's all a very important part of the act for him. He's pouring his heart and soul into you every time you're together.
But don't get it wrong, he's still a man. Those sweet nothings and soft whispers about how much he loves you quickly turn into dirty talk.
"You're such a good girl."
"You look so pretty wrapped around my cock."
"You're mine, you know that?"
He definitely sticks his fingers in your mouth.
After a certain point, he let's his dick do the thinking for him. You don't mind one bit.
He's all about aftercare. Rags or showers or just physical contact, whatever you want, he's got it. He knows he's not always the best at taking care of you, but this is one instance where he's confident about what he's doing.
Shikamaru Nara
My man is lazy and that doesn't change, even in the bedroom.
He usually doesn't go down on you but enjoys when you sit on his face. He'll wrap his arms around to grip your thighs. He's never one to turn down head but doesn't really make foreplay a priority.
Some might call him a pillow princess at first glance, but it's deeper than that. He has the control, he just let's you do the work most of the time.
You may be on top, but his strong grip and guiding fingers tell you exactly what to do.
Sometimes, he doesn't care for the pleasantries that come with dragging it out. He'll nestle between your legs and let his head dip down to your neck.
Lazy thrusts, but that's fine. Deeper is always better than faster.
He doesn't really do dirty talk, but he's definitely not silent. He's vocal, always groaning, maybe he'll tell you that he loves you if he's feeling a certain way.
Madara Uchiha
Most of the time, he's hate fucking you.
There's no time for foreplay when he's immediately slamming you against the wall when he gets home.
Despite all the anger radiating off of him as he mercilessly thrusts into you, he's calling you the sweetest nicknames he can think of. Love or Darling or something of the sort.
He always finishes inside. You're not sure if he's just too busy letting his frustration out to think, or if he's actively trying to get you pregnant.
It's both... sort of. For him, anger is just passion and fuel. It has nothing to do with his actions. He's pumping you full of his cum because he likes to claim you. He wants you to bare his children. He wants people to know you're his.
Aftercare isn't as straightforward for him. He's not offering to clean you up, but he tries to find ways to subtly apologize for turning you into a toy.
Naruto Uzumaki
Naruto runs on pure instinct in every aspect of his life.
He's doing what feels right in the moment and confirming it with you if it's something he's unsure about. (Consent is key).
He's a people pleaser. He's always making sure he takes care of you before he even thinks about himself. Eating you out, fingering, breast play, whatever you want.
He's sloppy. It's just something that always emerges with him. He's placing wet kisses on your neck, his hand placement can sometimes be a bit awkward, but it all adds to the experience.
His head gets so foggy with love and lust that he honestly can't think straight. The way his body takes control and he ravages you in an almost primal way, it's to die for.
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