#I'd feel bad if I paired someone up with a character they didn't like

[nutluvs]

not sure if your requests are still open but I'd devour your take on how rdr characters would react to you giving them a hot lunch while they are hunting. Like they are sitting at the top of the hill with a hunting bow in their hands and you sneak up to them, handing them a hot meal prepared for them.

preferred characters are javier, sean and kieran but you can add your favourites as well, I will gladly read your take on that about any character! :)

also don't feel pressured if you don't feel like writing it! much love anyways, have a nice day :))

- 🦎

hot n' ready 🍰 various rdr2 characters x gn! reader

!! divider by animatedglittergraphics-n-more ♡ !! hi sweetheart ! i hope you're doing amazing today ! ♡ this is my favorite request i've gotten in ages ! it's so cute. thank you so much for sending it in. ♡ i'm so so sorry it took me so long to write, i've had like.. 0 motivation to write lately, and this is just to get back into it. i'm also very sorry if this sucks and if i didn't portray any of your favorites right, i'm only really used to writing a few characters. synopsis:bringing your dearest some good lunch you made just for him while he's out hunting. pairings (in order): ♡ charles smith ♡ arthur morgan ♡ javier escuella ♡ eagle flies ♡ sean macguire ♡ kieran duffy ♡ john marston ♡ the boy warnings: none, this is just fluff !! mentions: @pursuedbyamemoryy @deaddoedonoteat

charles smith:

he didn't expect it. at all.

although, that doesn't mean he didn't appreciate it.

when you crept up to him, his focus was entirely on the doe, whose head was tipped down to nibble at the grass beneath her hooves.

as soon as you prodded at him with the tip of your finger, he jolted and made a discontented, uncomfortable sound.

he was quick to whip around to see who it was, gripping his bow a little tighter, but when he realized it was you he visibly relaxed almost instantly.

he greets you and asks you what you have in your hands, disregarding the doe immediately. you were more important.

"a warm lunch, just for you. i know pearson's meals aren't so satisfying to eat, especially since they lack seasoning and any variation, so i made something of my own. i also made myself something, that way, we could have some lunch together.

when you say that, he feels his face go warm.

he has to clear his throat before attempting to tell you that you didn't have to do this for him and that he didn't want to be a waste of time, but you were quicker, promising him that he deserved a break from low quality food and that he deserved something nice.

so, now understanding you were absolutely sure, he takes his warm lunch from your hands with a smile, and you eat together underneath the shade of a tree, sharing conversation and warm, loving smiles.

arthur morgan:

he was a bit frustrated.

he had tried to get his hands on this damn buck for so long, but every time he'd try and shoot, the thing would get spooked off by quickly passersby.

so now, here he was, sat atop a hill, grumbling to himself about how irritating the prey was, fidgeting with an arrow and trying to calm himself down.

he had heard hoofbeats on the grass and quickly turned to see who it was, and as soon as he saw your face, all of his anger was gone. he put the arrow he held down onto the grass with his bow, and watched you approach. he noticed you had something in your hands.

"hey, darlin'. what's that you got in your hands?" he asks, watching you sit down beside him with a bit of a smile present on your features.

"some lunch for you. made it myself." you say, smiling bigger. "i figured you'd like something that isn't as bad as pearson's cooking... so i made that something."

arthur was a bit shocked, taking it from your hands when you held it out to him. he looked from the box up to you, unsure. "i don't deserve this, darlin', it's.. you didn't have to."

"i wanted to."

this makes his face go red, because he wouldn't really figure someone would want to do something like this for him. but it made him happy, and he really enjoyed your cooking. who knew you were so good?

javier escuella:

he's more of a fishing guy, so that might make it a little harder for you to reach him, but that doesn't deter you.

he went down to the dakota river to do some fishing, and he asked you to tag along, but you initially said no. he was a little sad about that.

however, when he was in the middle of wrapping a smallmouth bass so he could return it to camp, you prodded at his shoulder, causing him to yelp and drop the fish.

you apologized quickly, but he was quick to put the apology down. he wasn't mad at you, he could never be. plus, he insisted he should've been more aware of his surroundings.

after that, you handed him the lunch you made.

"querida, what's this?" he asks, inspecting it closely, as if unsure. it wasn't like you'd give him something that'd kill him, so he stopped his looking.

"a lunch i made for you, since pearson's cooking tastes like shit."

"it has a few of the meals you told me your mother used to make you, and i wanted to sorta give you some sense of home. i hope my cooking is as good as hers, and that i captured the flavors right."

his heart warms, and he feels a bit of a hitch in his breath. you took the time out of your day to make him one of the dishes from home? oh, you were just the sweetest.

he holds the lunch carefully as he brings you into a hug and kisses your cheek, thanking you before quickly sitting down to enjoy what you picked to make him.

eagle flies:

today's hunt had been very successful, and he was proud of that.

he had managed to shoot down some rabbits, and he wanted to finish off a deer as well. he found it most refreshing when he did this.

when you came over the hill, he was poised to shoot, rough fingertips pulling back on the string of his bow.

you decided to stay quiet, watching him release the string and puncture the unaware doe's neck. you smiled when he released a pleased sigh, standing to go collect the arrow and the fresh kill.

"that was a good one," you say, spotting him turn and smile right back at you. "thank you." he replies. he'd known you were there, but he had already gotten the opportunity for a perfect shot, so he didn't greet you despite how bad he'd wanted to.

you watched him pluck the arrow from the carcass and hoist it over his shoulder, bringing it back to his horse before helping you down from yours.

"so, why'd you come?"

"made you something." you say, handing him a small box lunch. "you deserve a treat for all of the hard work you've been doing lately. i know it's the least i could do for such hard work, but i was in a rush."

eagle flies smiles at the gift, his heart fluttering. "thank you, my love. i appreciate this a lot. i've always liked your cooking." he says, leaning in and pressing a tender kiss to your temple, before sitting down to eat the meal you made specially for him.

sean macguire:

he didn't know why he came on this hunting trip. hunting irked him.

he wasn't even all that good at focusing on the prey, let alone shoot it in a vital spot to kill it. he wouldn't admit that, nor the fact that he'd rather be doing something more entertaining.

he just about tossed away the bow, but you twined your arms around him in a hug and gazed up at him, a smile on your lips.

"hi honey." you say gently, "i brought you something to eat. hunting isn't your forte, and i know you like my cooking. maybe it'll calm you down."

sean stared at you for a moment, his expression flat before it grew a bit embarrassed, "i can hunt just fine!" he snapped, and you laughed. "i saw the anger in your face, honey, you hate it. here."

you pushed the box meal into his hands, and he wasn't going to deny this. as you said, he loved your cooking. he'd never say otherwise... even if he didn't like the flavor of something, he was the biggest fan of your meals and would eat up the whole plate.

he was quick to slump down underneath a tree with you, blabbering on about his day with you leaning against his shoulder. he didn't have any manners when eating, but that was fine. at least he was back to being happy.

kieran duffy:

he prefers being back at camp with the horses, let's just say that.

he didn't like the idea of hurting animals, preferring to take care of them. so, he purposefully made this a bad hunt.

he didn't even know why they asked him of all gang members to go out and hunt... although, he'd still try. he wanted them to trust him at least a little bit more. he wasn't just some o'driscoll..

he sat crouched behind a bush, expression a bit worried as he aimed the bow he borrowed at an unaware rabbit.

when he let go of the string, he jolted back, the squeaky, high-pitched sound from a pained bunny not meeting his ears. only the sound of panicked scuttling and the small thud of an arrow.

"oh..." he sighed, a bit displeased with himself. although, he sorta preferred that he didn't kill something so innocent.

"kieran?"

the sound of your voice caused him to jolt once again, and he looked up at you. "o-oh, hey, darlin'.. um, i uh.."

"i see you haven't caught yourself anything."

"nope.." he mumbled, gaze straying elsewhere. he listened to your soft laughter as you sat down beside him. "that's okay," you promised, earning his eyes on you again, "don't worry. i'll catch something later. anyway, i brought you something."

when you handed him a box, he felt the warmth seep into his palms. he looked at it, then at you. "what's this?"

"some lunch. i made it specially for you, you deserve a break from all that harassment they give you. even though it's not much, i thought you might like it."

kieran blushed at this, putting the box on his lap and managing a small-voiced "thank you."

you made him feel so dizzy, so stupid in love. but he liked that. he liked it a lot.

john marston:

he was pretty self confident in today's hunt.

he'd managed a few kills, a deer and some birds. nothing too big. but he was still pretty proud. and with this confidence, he felt he'd be good with another kill.

however, as soon as he plucked an arrow to shoot with, he noticed you coming up the hill. he was quick to smile all dumb, shoving his bow and arrow away.

when you came over the hill, you halted your horse, looking to him as he made his way over to you and pulled you from your horse.

you noticed quickly that he was in a good mood, as he began to swing you around when you were in his arms. "there's my angel! how are you doing?" he asks, nuzzling you as he sat you down, listening to your giggles.

"great! i don't think i have to ask you how you are..." you tease, before stepping slightly back from him. "made you a little something, by the way.

this caught his attention, and he raised a brow, "what's that?" "made you a lunch, with your favorites." you said as you handed him the lunch. "i figured you'd like it. you've told me about two million times that my cooking's your favorite." holy shit, was this day going good. john was through the roof now.

john grinned like the idiot he was and took the box from you. "thanks, my angel. always did like your cooking, you do it real good. i always wonder who taught you." he admits, wrapping you up in his arms again, careful not to spill what he has in his hands. you giggled, pressing a chaste kiss to his jaw, "i try, and i'm glad my hard work is met with a good product."

"mmmhm. now, wanna sit down and share?"

the boy:

he wasn't usually the type to hunt.

however, today, he went out hunting, and it wasn't going so good. he ended up pouting on the forest floor, leaning against a tree.

"honey?" you call out, which distracts him from his moping. he looks like he lightened up a bit, but not as much as you hoped. you sighed when he looked back to his hands.

"not much of a result, huh, love?" you ask, dismounting your horse and approaching him. you squatted down beside him, putting a hand on his cheek and tipping his head up. he grunted a "no."

"huntin's stupid. i'm the best 'round here, but these damn animals.." he huffed. you only smiled softly, leaning in close to him and pressing a kiss to his temple. "will this cheer you up?" you ask, putting a small box in his hands.

he looked at you, confused, blue eyes searching your face and waiting for an explanation.

"it's lunch i made for you. i know you're not the biggest fan of hunting, so i decided i'd make you a lunch to cheer you up... and before you ask if there's any watermelon, yes, i put watermelon in it."

he grinned dumbly, his face growing warm and dusting with a rosy color, leaning in and giving you a quick peck on the nose. "thanks, i always did like your cooking... makes me feel better 'bout this."

"oh, i know. you're blushing all silly."

"i ain't!"

here's this! i hope this suffices for my first post in 8 centuries. i hope you enjoyed, have a nice day! love you guys ♡♡♡♡

[realisticjupiter]

heyy! I just miss your writing ;) so i'm here to ask for drunk chishiya who suddenly comes to the reader's house at midnight and relieves his stress on her? (can be fluff or smut, you decide)

ꔫ ⸝⸝ summary: a drunk chishiya waking you up in the middle of the night, was definitely the last thing you'd guess.

ꔫ ⸝⸝ pairing: chishiya x gn!reader

ꔫ ⸝⸝ genre: fluff

ꔫ ⸝⸝ warnings: drunk!chishiya , lmk if anything else

ꔫ ⸝⸝ word count: 850

A/N: okay listen . . . I might've gotten a bit off track. BUT, I kind of like it?!! I also decided on fluff since he's drunk but, hey, I'm down for a pt2 if you are!!

Lost in a daze of sleep, peaceful and calm as you shut your eyes and allowed yourself to fall into the void of darkness people called sleep.

That was all interrupted by the loud banging of the front door. Your first thought was to ignore it; it was in the middle of the night and you couldn't be bothered.

But it didn't just stop the first time, it happened again, and once more before you finally--and annoyingly, got up from bed to see who could be so inconsiderate.

When you opened your door, you fully expected it to be some stranger, or someone informing you of some terrible news that was so important that it couldn't wait until morning.

You definitely didn't expect it to be Chishiya.

The white haired man standing outside your door, his hair disheveled and his dark eye bags visible under the moonlight. It wasn't just out of character for him to be standing outside your door, but you could smell the stench on his clothing; he was drunk.

"Chishiya?" Your voice was soft from the past action of your interrupted sleep, rubbing your eye with the back of your hand as you tried to decipher what was in front of you.

"Can I come in?" Chishiya muttered with a broken tone, his gaze never meeting your eyes as he stood there; unsure of what to do with himself.

"Uh--i guess..." You replied, taking a step to the side as a confused look found its way onto your face. "What are you doing here?" You asked as you watched him walk past you, his unsteady balance becoming obvious with each step.

"I don't usually drink..." He whispered to himself, his palms pressing into his eyes as if he was trying to pop them back into his skull. Doing anything to get this feeling he had to go away.

"Yeah, I know. You never saw a point in it, at least--that's what you told me." You shrugged, shutting the door and locking it behind him. He won't be able to bring himself home walking around like that..

"I don't!" Chishiya's voice was far more stern when he spoke, his head turned towards you as he did so. He didn't have much time to react to himself, just standing there like some type of horror movie.

"Okay.." You nodded, trying your best to keep a soft tone. "Everything okay?" You finally asked, taking small steps towards him. You felt like you were walking on eggshells. You've never seen him drunk, hell--you don't even think he's ever been drunk. You had no idea how he'd act in this state, and you were almost afraid to find out.

"No, everything's not okay. You think I'd be drunk if they were?" His words were sharp, digging into every spot his mouth could hold.

"You're right." You nodded, stopping a foot in front of him. "What's not okay, Shuntaro?" Your words came out in a whisper this time, you wanted him to feel more comfortable. Switching his name was a way of telling him that he could be, at least you hoped that's how he'd take it.

"I don't want to be drunk anymore." He groaned, his eyes moved away from you to aim behind your body. Spotting the couch under the dim light that casted from behind the curtains.

He didn't hesitate to walk past you and towards the comfortable couch that was calling his name.

"Chi--Shuntaro." You called out for him, not doing much as he sat down but quickly changed positions to spread his body across it.

You honestly felt bad for Chishiya. It must've been really bad if he felt the need to break the promise he had on himself. You almost felt glad that he didn't like being drunk, but you were also afraid if it happened again--he'd come to enjoy it.

"How do I make it go away?" He asked, his tone had completely changed. He sounded sincere, like he truly needed an answer or he'd go more insane than he already has.

You sighed walking towards him, stopping at the head of the couch to look down on him. "Get some rest, you'll probably wake up with an undeniable urge to throw your brains out. Bathroom is down the hall." You tried to be humorous with your words, but it was obvious he wasn't having it.

"I forgot about hangovers." He mumbled, turning his head to face the head of the couch. Like a child finding comfort in the small spaces, that's the only way to describe what pushing yourself into the crevice of the couch felt like.

"Mhm, they're different for everyone. Just go to sleep, you can actually talk to me in the morning." You suggested, grabbing the throw blanket from on top of the couch to lay on top of him.

"I'm serious. You better still be here when I wake up." You whispered, his body having no response as you walked back to your room--soft breathing following the body laid in your living room.

reposts and comments are appreciated <3

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for backing out of an art exchange because the person who pulled my name has an art style I really don't like?

In the fandom based Discord I'm in we had a small art exchange last month. Everyone got randomly paired with someone else to exchange art based on their prompts.

I'm a big believer in all art having value and that people enjoy different art styles, but unfortunately the person I was paired with has a really specific art style that I just.

Honestly, I hate it.

Our fandom is soft-anime style, think something like Genshin or similar art. Anime but more rounded off, 3D style.

However this artist has a really sharp, angular, honestly a little strange kind of art style that makes the final result look nothing like the original character design at all except for features like their clothing being the most obvious clue as to who they are.

If you ever read the really old Roald Dahl books with the super pointy, triangular art style, its kind of like that. Huge, super sharp pointy chins and noses, super long faces, all of the eyes drawn in the same long, sideways triangle style.

Its amazing that they have a style they like, but its 100% not my style and I really didn't want to have to fawn over it and share it across my socials when it is clearly the opposite of the art style I like.

I wound up pretending I had an unexpected work trip which meant I had to back out of the exchange (which actually wound up being true, but the trip was only 3 days so it wasn't like I wouldn't have had the 3 other whole weeks to work on my side of the exchange.) I was super polite about it, because again, its not my style but its theirs and I'd never deliberately make someone feel bad about their art.

Well, turns out some genius in our server forgot we all follow each other on Tumblr too and made a post basically laughing about how I had the balls to get out of it and how funny and smart they found it.

The mods sent a screenshot of it into the server and said bullying would not be tolerated and I got a warning for bullying. I pointed out I hadn't lied about the trip and I wasn't even the one who made the post, but they blacklisted talking about it further and made a new rule that if you fail to participate in future exchanges for anything less than like, someone dying or whatever, you get removed from the server completely.

All around nobody is happy about any of it, and there's talks about voting to just veto exchanges completely both because nobody wants to single people out and nobody wants to be forced to fawn over art they don't like.

I'm mostly angry with the person who poked their nose in because before they said anything it was completely fine with me and the other artist. They understood completely, we joked about how shit work is, and they were just going to do an art piece for the server as a whole which I thought was a really cute outcome, but now both of them have gone silent in the server and won't reply to anyone.

What are these acronyms?

[xoxoavenger]

Us.

pairing: Luke Castellan x Fem!Reader

summary: Y/N wonders if Luke misses her too, if it was real to him too. Luke isn't sure how to show her how he feels.

word count: 1362

warnings: major character death, angst

notes: this is based on 'Us.' by Gracie Abrams but it was written while watching Supernatural which made it a little dramtic so sorry about that

part 1 part 2 masterlist

Y/N stares at Luke, heart racing as she breathes through her mouth, air seemingly sucked out of her lungs as well as the surrounding area.

"What are you doing?" She asks lowly, not wanting to break whatever spell this is. She can't look at him, only able to stare at the flowers in his hand.

"I'm making amends." His voice is strained, as if he doesn't quite want to be saying the words. She's not sure what to think of that.

"I don't," She starts, blinking as she tries to find the words. She puts a hand to the almost faded bruise on her forehead, remembering the last time she saw him. "You hit me over the head with a sword." She says, as if he would have forgotten that.

"I know," He croaks, looking at his shoes. The flowers droop toward the ground, a bud falling to the dirt. He looks like he's truly sorry, like he feels bad about it, but all she remembers is how she felt waking up in the infirmary, headache pulsing in her temple and heart aching in her chest. 

"I told you I loved you and you," She cuts herself off and looks away, tears coming into her vision. She cannot keep reliving that horrible day. Maybe Percy was right.

"I'm sorry, " He rushes out, stepping forward. "I honestly didn't think you were going to show up there." He tries to justify, and Y/N just stares at him.

"So you weren't going to even say goodbye." She summarizes, and tilts his head as he frowns.

"Y/N," He says softly, but she shakes her head.

"No, I get it." She puts her hands out, a sardonic smile on her face. "It was fake, so why would you care." She turns around, even though she doesn't want to leave. She knows she has to do it, put one foot in front of the other. 

"It wasn't fake." She stops in her tracks, not turning to look but not leaving anymore. "I came up with the whole plan because I was in love with you and I didn't want to tell you because I knew what I had to do. And I didn't think you would love me back."

"So you hit me over the head with a sword? You left with Kronos! You bro-" She jiggles her leg in an attempt to keep her emotions in as her voice breaks, tears falling down her cheeks. "You broke my heart, Luke." She tells him in a soft, torn voice. She still can't look at him.

"I know. But I can make it up to you, I swear." He sounds like he's begging now, and she doesn't know what to do. She turns back to him, walking forward until she's almost pressed against him. She can't help it, the need to feel him close, even though she knows it's wrong.

"I can't leave my friends." She whispers, barely audible.

"I love you." Luke drops, and she can't help but press her lips to his. She doesn't know where to put her hands, so they float between Her and Luke as if she were about to put them on his chest. He grabs them as he drops the flowers to the ground, squeezing them tight and pulling her even closer.

"I love you too." She whispers when they part, foreheads leaning against each other. His thumbs rubbing against her hands, their breathes mingling. "But where do we go from here?" She asks, knowing she can't just move on. He hurt her irreparably.

"Come with me," Luke starts, leaning back just slightly to look at her. "I have a boat, we're going to set up there. You'd never have to leave, I'd protect you." He tells her, as if that was her problem the whole time - being protected.

"In all my time at Camp Half-Blood, I've only had one person hit me over the head with a sword." She says, pulling away further. Luke shakes his head, about to explain, when footsteps pound from behind him.

"Traitor!" Someone yells, causing Luke and Y/N to turn and look. As they see the camper with a sword coming at them, Luke pulls Y/N into him. But the camper was already set on his path to stab Luke in the back, so he doesn't have time to correct before the blade runs through Y/N's side. The camper slides it out quickly in horror, but the damage has been done. Blood is spilling out of her side, and she barely has time to put a hand over the wound before she's collapsing into Luke.

"No, no, no!" Luke cries, falling to the ground with Y/N in his arms. Blood is spilling everywhere, and Luke gags as he sees Y/N's skin pale. He knows she's not making it out of this. "Help! Please!" He doesn't know who to ask, which one of the gods will hear his prayer. He knows he's not in good standing, but this is for Y/N.

"I-I didn't mean to!" The camper says, tears spilling out of his eyes.

"Go get help!" Luke yells, knowing he's going to out himself. He looks down at Y/N again, at the hole in her side, and almost throws up. After all the death he's seen, all the gruesome wounds he's been apart of, he still feels sick.

"Luke," He knows that she's almost gone, that there's no hope. Blood is covering the carnations he had bought her.

"Please, please, help her." Luke mutters, looking up to the sky. He grabs Y/N's hand, and when she doesn't squeeze back he looks down.

"Don't let this turn you into... something you're not. You're not a god... you're Luke Castellan. And I love... Luke Castellan." She chokes out most of her sentence, before her eyes go wild. "You have to leave. Live a life away... from this place... they won't understand. Promise me, Luke," She goes completely lax in his arms, eyes open and blood pooled in her mouth. Luke gags again as he turns his face away, unable to look at her.

"You can't let her die," Luke says, looking up to the sky again as tears fall down his face. "This is my fault. Please, just let her live, and I will leave her alone." When he's met with silence, he starts to get more desperate. "My life for hers. Take me instead, Hades. Make me a slave, or a statue, anything. Just don't take her." Hes begging frantically, chest heaving with emotion. His prayers don't fall on deaf ears, but Aphrodite appears with no way to save her daughter.

"I knew this would happen." The goddess says with a sad face. "I tried to tell her to move on, but of course, she didn't listen. I wouldn't have." Luke wants to throttle the goddess, but he knows he can't. Not only would it not do anything, but she looks exactly like Y/N.

"Save her!" Luke yells, and he can hear people approaching soon. "Do something! I'll give my life, just please!" He begs, but the goddess shakes her head.

"You should go." Aphrodite says as she crouches, placing a hand over her daughter's face and closing her eyes. When Luke doesn't move, she looks down at him. "I'm giving you an out, boy. Leave now." She picks up her daughter and places her in her arms, fixing her up. Even in death, she's gorgeous.

"Why?" Luke asks, standing but not leaving yet.

"Because that was her dying breath. We're here because you didn't listen to her last time you saw her, so you're going to listen to her now." The goddess puts her forehead to her daughter's head, and Luke takes one last look at his lover, who is now dead because of him. He steps into the blood soaked carnations, and then he sprints out.

"They didn't let you save her," Luke hears him in his head, and he knows he's not strong enough to keep himself in check anymore. "I could have done it. And I will do it, when you raise me." Luke wipes his face, taking a deep breath to calm his churning stomach.

"What do I have to do?" 

//

tags (if you commented on the last post about wanting another part I tagged you): @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler @sflame15-blog @cwlxlx @zomdrool

[annwrites]

finding bliss in the bliss *.✧

— pairing: jacob seed x fem!reader

— type: one-shot

— summary: jacob seed takes your virginity in a field of bliss

��� tags: porn w/o plot tbh

— tw: sex, loss of virginity, drugging, fingering, cussing, dubcon (reader asks about protection, but jacob makes the decision for them both to bareback it)

— word count: 4,544

— a/n: well, this ended up being way longer than i initially expected it to be lol. i hope i kept him in-character!

(this scene was initially going to be used in a much larger fic where the the reader (originally an oc) meets john first during one of joseph's sermons that she went to out of curiosity & generally feeling lost/alone in life. she eventually is taken in by john/eden's gate, bc john has been having dreams about her, & believes she's his soulmate. but bc he knows jacob needs someone good in his life as well, he has her go stay with him at his cabin in the whitetails as he "works" on his silo sometimes, so that she's kept safe while he's away from the ranch. in reality, he's hoping they'll connect & also fall in love. & they do and they're all a happy throuple. but this scene initially ended with jacob trying to pull his cock out of his boxers & she freezes, telling him she wants john to be her first & he gets super hurt & upset about it.) anyway!

You swear, that the more you walk, the more you can hear a faint humming sound coming from up ahead. Once the two of you break through the trees, you see where it'd been coming from. Before you is a massive field of flowers, moths flitting along them, and behind the field is a row of greenhouses, to the right of them a huge marble-and-stone building.

You look to Jacob. "Where are we?"

He nods his head toward the large building. "That's the factory where we make all our bliss. And while there's plenty of others throughout the region, this is the largest field of it that we have."

You balk. So you're both standing before a giant field of hallucinogens.

"W-Why did you bring me here?"

He looks down to you, his hands in his pockets. "You were the one who was curious."

Your brows furrow. "I expressed that curiosity in the truck—meaning you were already headed this way."

"No, originally I was going to take you to Sabre-Tooth Springs. We're just making a detour right now."

He steps away from you then, walking closer to the field.

You panic. "Jacob," you nearly yell his name.

He turns back to you, one brow raised. "You wanted to know what it was like."

"I didn't think I'd be finding out tonight..."

He doesn't respond.

You take a small step closer to him. "What if...what if I have a bad trip?"

He determines it a small victory that you're not going to fight him on this experience, but, rather, are willing to let it happen.

He steps back over to you, his broad form towering over your own. He nearly smirks at how small you are compared to him. So vulnerable...

"I'll be right here the entire time. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

You glance to the alluring field of flowers, illuminated only by the moon above and the lights from the greenhouses in the back, then back to the large man before you.

"Do you really think my first time doing it...it being in a field of it, is a good idea?"

He shrugs. "No one's ever had a better one."

You nearly roll your eyes as he turns away from you. You quickly reach out, gripping his right hand in your left and his head jerks in your direction at the sudden contact.

You look up to him with wide eyes. "Can...can I hold your hand?"

Your own is shaking, he notes.

He nods.

You take a deep breath, then another as you step closer and closer, until, finally, you're at the beginning of a path, which leads down the middle of the garden.

You grip his hand tighter as the two of you begin down it, your head quickly beginning to spin as you breathe in the strong-smelling flowers which surround you. Your other hand comes up to wrap around his arm, sparkles filling your vision. "I feel so dizzy. Light-headed." You look around you, your vision swimming, heart now pounding. "Everything looks funny. I don't like this."

He drags you along, further in, cutting across the path until you're completely surrounded by the angel's trumpet flowers. "Just relax. Everything you're feeling is completely normal."

You shake your head, trying to center yourself, but it causes the entire world to spin instead, so you press your forehead against Jacob's upper-arm, desperately wanting it to stop.

"Here, just sit down and ride it out."

Ride it out? There was no riding it out, so long as you were sitting in a damn field of it.

Nevertheless, you do as you're told, taking a seat beside him, swaying side-to-side as you watch the world around you ebb and flow, as if you were underwater.

"Hey, look at me," Jacob says as he gently places his index finger under your chin, turning your face in his direction, causing your vision to fill with small silver sparkles again.

"Yeah, your pupils are blown."

Your heart jumps and you swallow nervously as you reach up to your face. "Is that bad?" You ask with a whimper.

He smirks. "No, just means it's working."

You wonder what he means by that, but find yourself completely unable to concentrate long enough to try and figure it out.

"Lie back."

You do, closing your eyes, willing yourself to calm down. Wait—hadn't he said it helped do just that? No. That happened when you found the correct dosage, which this most certainly was not.

They smelled so lovely, though...

Finally, when you open your eyes, you notice that Jacob is now leaning against his left arm, looking down at you. "How do you feel?"

You blink up at him. "Warm."

"So take a layer off."

You giggle, then cover your mouth, wondering where the hell that had come from. You lower your arms back down to your sides. "Are you trying to get me to take my clothes off?"

His brow raises. "You're wearing a hoodie."

You flush. "Oh. Right."

You unzip it and Jacob's eyes darken when he notices you're not wearing a bra beneath your thin t-shirt, but you don't see his reaction as you sit up long enough to slip the article of clothing off, lying it beside you before you lie back down again.

"Better?" He asks.

You look up at him again, suddenly feeling warm all over. Was that a normal reaction?

"No, still warm."

His jaw flexes, then, "So take something else off."

Normally, you know you would be beyond upset at such a suggestion, would make a scene over it. Would never do it, but you simply...don't care in this moment. You feel a way you never have before. Calm, euphoric. Happy.

So you sit up again and grip your t-shirt at the hem, lifting it up over your head and Jacob watches, his face betraying nothing as he takes in your now-naked breasts.

You lie down yet again and giggle, covering your shapely breasts with your hands. "I'm naked."

"Not technically." He replies, his tone completely serious.

"How are you not...do you not feel as good as I do right now?" When you speak, your voice sounds little like your own now. It's playful, lilted, breathy... Alluring.

His jaw twitches. “Let's just say I've developed a bit of an immunity to it.”

You wonder how that's even possible. How much of it someone would have to do to even achieve that. But because it's him—Mister Always-in-Control—you're not surprised by this fact.

You reach down to the waistband of your sweatpants and begin to wiggle out of them, not even caring as your underwear goes with them.

You look up to Jacob then, and his gaze is trained solely on your face now.

“Now I am.” You say, your entire body warm, a flush spreading lower than just your face, but to your neck and breasts as well.

He simply replies with a “Mhm.”

You laugh at him, then mimic his serious disposition by pursing your lips and furrowing your brow. “So serious.”

You close your eyes again and breathe deeply, heat now pooling between your thighs.

Jacob, while your eyes are shut, uses the moment to take you all in. Your breasts, your soft stomach, your round hips and supple thighs, and your sex between your legs.

When he looks back to your comely face, your wide eyes are open and watching him.

Before he can think or do anything, you're on top of him—straddling him—your legs bent at the knee on either side of his waist as you come down to rest directly over his throbbing erection, which strains painfully beneath his jeans.

He leans back on both his elbows as you rest each of your arms on either of his shoulders, your breasts nearly in his face.

"The hell are you doing?"

You shrug, feeling unusually bold. Obviously. Or you wouldn't naked, on top of Jacob Seed, in a field of psychedelic flowers right now. "Not sure yet." You giggle again, running your fingers through his hair.

"You're a naughty little thing, aren't you?"

You feel your core heat at that. "Not usually."

His lips twitch. "I'm aware. Had I known all it would take to bring your walls down would be some bliss, I would've brought you down here days ago."

You scoot a bit closer, your chest nearly against his and he groans at the sensation as his cock twitches underneath you.

"Why?"

He's broken from thoughts of fucking you senseless for teasing him like this. "Why what?"

"You've barely spoken to me for the past week, not that you're ever home, so why do you care about my walls?"

His cock hardens at you talking about walls, him wondering what the ones between your legs would feel like clenching around him. He doubts you could take all of him anyway.

"Does that upset you, me not paying attention to you, sweetheart?" He asks in a mocking tone.

Normally, you'd fill with embarrassment or shame. But right now? You simply shrug.

"Is that why you're naked and on top of me? Because you don't need my attention?" He asks, thinking he finally has the upper hand. How wrong he is...

You grind down against his erection and sigh. "Mm, actually I want this."

He raises a brow. "To dry hump me?"

He could give you a lot more than that, you need only ask. But he wasn't about to admit as much.

You hesitate for a moment, then nod.

He glances down to where your sex is already making a wet spot on his jeans, directly over his cock. He then looks back up to you, eyes hooded. "Go on, then."

It's all the encouragement you need before you reposition herself overtop of his left leg instead. He lowers it until it's flat on the ground, and then you do exactly what he said. You rub yourself against the leg of his pants, your head thrown back in ecstasy, your eyes closed, lips slightly parted.

For awhile, Jacob simply watches you, arms behind his head, content to let you do this all night if that's what you want.

Then, Jacob sits up for a moment, reaching behind you to slip the band around your ponytail free and your hair falls in soft waves down your back. He briefly considers how it would feel wrapped around his fist.

You don't stop your ministrations for a moment, continuing to whimper and sigh and moan as you take what you want, perhaps need.

Finally, you opens your eyes and Jacob sits up a bit. You wrap your arms back around his neck again and crush your lips to his.

You open your mouth, moaning into his own over and over. God, you'd never felt so good, so free, so alive before. You understood why people took bliss now. Who wouldn't want to feel like this forever? You could get lost in it. Wanted to.

He flicks his tongue against yours , then brings his rough, calloused palms to rub up and down your bare back and you shiver, gasping against his lips at the heightened sensation.

Then, he grips your hips as you continue to ride him, wishing he could get some fucking relief himself. He wasn't usually this generous, in that, if he was with a woman, they were both getting theirs. Not just one of them.

You begin to ride his leg faster then, your breath coming in soft, short pants. He suddenly flips you onto your back "Oh no you don't."

Your eyes shoot open, as well as your mouth, but before you can speak a word of protest, Jacob is lying on his side, leaning against his left arm as he spreads both of your legs with his right, then reaches between them with that same hand, running his index and middle fingers between your soaking folds before plunging them inside of you.

You gasp at the unexpected gesture, then throw your head back against the ground.

Jacob brings his other arm to press down on the lower portion of your stomach as his fingers frantically fuck you, barely allowing you to catch your breath.

You bring your right arm up to grip his jacket, unable to so much as speak, only able to make the most embarrassing noises—which included those coming from between your thighs...

Jacob suddenly curves his fingers upward and you moan his name in response, causing him to smirk in satisfaction before easing yet another finger inside of you.

It doesn't take but a few minutes more before you finish, his palm covered in you as your back arches and you spread your legs wider. Sparks explode against your eyelids, your entire being set ablaze, your cunt contracting wildly against him.

He doesn't even bother stopping, until your hand comes down to grip his wrist. "Please," you whisper, trying to catch your breath, trying to calm your pounding heart.

His movements cease and he removes his fingers from inside you and you watch as he immediately places them in his mouth, your eyes going wide as he sucks your juices from them.

Only once he's cleaned them does he settle his arm over one of your lowered thighs. "Do you have any idea how fucking good you taste?"

You open and close your mouth like some stupid, gaping fish, before closing it and opting to simply shake your head.

He runs two of his fingers between your hot, dripping folds and your body jerks in response before he brings them up to your lips. "Open."

You obey and he eases his fingers into your mouth and you suck on them before he removes them a few seconds later. You don't find there to be anything extraordinary about how you taste, but perhaps he had a different palate than you.

You then decide that you sound ridiculous, and have no idea what you're even on about.

"So, did you get what you needed? Or do you need to go again?"

You're surprised he's offering you a second orgasm. But pleased he is nonetheless. The first had been...unlike anything you'd ever felt before. Had been mind-bending. Your entire body had been at his mercy.

You look at him shyly. "Maybe."

He brushes one of his calloused thumbs over your nipple. "Oh yeah?" He says with mild interest before gazing at you.

You spread your legs again, nodding. "Mhm."

He sighs. "What am I going to do with you?"

You bite your lip. "Whatever you want."

He shakes his head, chuckling. "Don't tell me that or I'll fuck you within an inch of your life."

You still, somewhat wishing he would.

Then, you climb back on top of him again. He leans back like before. "What are you up to now, darlin'?"

You unbuckle his belt and his hand shoots out to grip your wrist in an iron clasp.

You look up to him, your heart pounding wildly with excitement.

"You sure about this?" He has no condoms on him and he wasn't about to even consider the pullout method. When he came, it would be deep—with his cock buried as far inside of you as he can get it—every drop of his cum filling you. And if your coupling resulted in something...more...he'd deal with that then.

All he could think was everything he wanted to do to you right now. Consequences be fucking damned.

You look at him, a smile playing on your lips. "Trust me."

Him trusting you wasn't the problem right now. Sure, bliss no longer had the effect on him that it once did, but there was still an impact on his body when he got near it. And being here with you like this in a field of it? He was liable to lose control once he was finally inside of you.

Once you have his belt fully undone, you then unbutton and unzip his pants and you kneel next to him and he lifts his hips as you slide them down to his ankles.

Before he can toe off his boots, wanting to fuck you completely bare, you've climbed back into his lap and are reaching for his erection over his boxers. You stroke him a few times before rubbing the tip of him against your cunt.

He looks at you in confusion. "What're you doing?"

You continue rubbing him against you and his cock twitches—once, twice—and he wants nothing more in all the fucking world than to finally sheathe himself inside of you.

"Are you trying to be a cock tease?" He asks, irritation lacing his voice.

You give him a mischievous grin and shrug before rolling your head to the side, your hair coming to slip over the front of your shoulder.

Jacob sits up, his chest pressed against yours and you wrap your arms around his neck then. He relaxes some. You'd just been trying to ready yourself, that was all. He reaches under you and starts trying to pull his boxers lower, trying to free his erection, but you still and pull away, looking down.

"I..."

He stops. "What?"

If you were about to ask 'what about a condom', so help him God almighty above...

"I've never..." You trail off.

Realization dawns on him. You were a fucking virgin. Even if you sure as hell were not acting like one right now.

"You're still a virgin, sweetheart?"

You nod, suddenly embarrassed.

He squeezes both of your hips firmly in his rough hands. "You want to fix that tonight?"

You just stare at him, running your fingers nervously through his hair.

He moves his hands lower, gripping your ass. "Hm? Would you like that?"

Your cunt was throbbing between your legs and you were so wet that you were dripping. All you could think about was all the things he might do to you if you said yes.

Why had you been waiting again? With your head so light and fuzzy, you couldn't remember anymore.

Finally, you nod.

He gently sets you to the side and you watch as he unlaces his boots, then tugs off his jeans the rest of the way. He then pulls his shirt off over his head and you feel a pang in your chest at the scars littering his abdomen. What had happened to him?

Your feeling sorry for him is cut short, however, when he pulls his boxers off, freeing his erection.

Oh God. It'd never fit. Never ever.

He gently grips your hips in his hands again and you sit back on his thighs and gingerly take his erection in your hands, holding it up against your stomach. It came up above your navel.

Jacob could nearly laugh from the terrified look on your face.

"Something the matter, honey?"

"It's too big," you look up to him, eyes wide and full of innocence. "It's not going to fit."

It twitches in your grip and you nearly unhand him when it does so.

"Oh, I'll make it fit, baby. One way or another."

You look into his eyes again.

"So, you want to be on top, or should I?" He asks, his tone patient as you decided.

"I...I don't know."

He sits up, wrapping his arms around you, your hands still around his dripping erection. "You want me to decide then?" He grabs your ass again, squeezing. "Want me to do all the work and you just enjoy yourself?"

You nod, hesitantly.

He leans forward, trailing his lips, then his tongue along your neck and you let out an unexpected moan, making his hard cock twitch again. Once his lips are near the shell of your ear, he speaks. His voice is low, gravely, full of lust. "Lie back and spread your legs."

He quickly grabs his jacket, fanning it out and you lie back on it, doing as you were told, spreading your legs wide for him.

He kneels before you, resting back on his haunches as his hands first grip your breasts, massaging them, then he uses one of his hands to grip your hip, the other palm-face down, running between your breasts, down your stomach, finally coming to rest overtop of your sex.

"This what you want, darlin'?"

You watch as his cock bobs between his legs. You nod, silently.

He slowly eases two fingers inside of you and you grip the jacket beneath you.

"Oh, yeah, that's what you want. Nice and wet and ready for me, huh, baby?"

You bite your lip, whimpering as he teases you like you had teased him.

Your eyes pop open when he removes his fingers, now rubbing the tip of his cock against your entrance instead, slapping it gently against your pussy a few times.

"What about-"

"What about what, sweetheart?" He asks, brow raised in mock-interest at what you have to say.

"Protection."

"We don't need it," he states, pushing inside of you before you can protest.

The pain isn't as bad as you had imagined it would be. Perhaps some mild discomfort at first, but he gives you a moment to adjust to the size of him—you'd been stupid in thinking those first few inches would be it, though.

As he eases himself the rest of the way in, the feeling is unlike anything you'd ever felt before.

You'd fingered yourself before, even used the handle of a hairbrush a few times, watching with fascination as it bobbed inside of you as you clenched around it, but this...you'd never felt so completely filled.

Jacob lets out a low swear and you look up to him in worry, until he speaks. "You're so fucking tight, Jesus."

He looks down at you, where your bodies are now joined, his length completely hidden inside of you. You'd done far better at taking every inch of him than he'd previously anticipated. "That feel good, sweetheart? You like that?"

"I feel so...so full."

He smirks. "I bet."

He begins to rock his hips against yours, slowly, using every ounce of self-control not to just fuck you raw like he wants so desperately to do.

He lowers himself on top of you, one of his hands holding himself up, trying not to crush you. He uses his other to slide down your thigh, lifting it onto his back. He sinks impossibly deeper and curses.

He looks down at you as you wrap your other leg around his backside. "Do you know how good you feel like this?"

You shake your head, eyes now glazed over, face and breasts splotchy with a sex-flush.

"First one to be inside of this pretty little cunt, hm?"

If you weren't already pink and red all over, you'd flush from the words leaving his lips. "Y-yes."

He eases out and back into you a few more times, your cunt squelching from how wet you are. "Such a needy little pussy, isn't it? Bet it doesn't take much to get it soaked, does it?"

You shake your head, licking your lips. "It's kind of annoying, actually."

He chuckles. "Only for you. You have any idea how much use I'd get out of it if it belonged to me?"

You grow quiet, mortified at the way he was talking about your body, even if it turned you on all the more.

He crushes his lips against yours, using his tongue to tease you for a moment before pulling away, sitting up again, cock still firmly inside of you. He reaches down, brushing the pad of his thumb along your lower lip, before easing it into your mouth. "You look like you could use something to suck on, darlin'."

And so you do. You suck on his thumb, hollowing your cheeks, wrapping both of your hands around his, and he groans at the sight, imaging how his cock would feel in there. God, you were fucking perfect.

He rams his cock into you a few times and you just moan and sigh in pleasure.

He pulls out a few inches, admiring his glistening length, completely covered in you, and then he shoves it back in. You clench around him and take note of how he hisses at the sensation.

You do it a few more times, completely on purpose now and he curses, and not quietly. "Fuck, Y/N."

Eventually, he grips your hips again, rolling over so that you're on top and he begins to tug your hips forward, then back, trying to encourage you to ride him again. You start to do so, the feeling of him settled inside of you, feeling him moving with you...it's such an odd sensation, but it feels so good.

He lies back, reaching up, taking both of your breasts in his hands, fondling them as you rock your hips against his. He begins to tug against your nipples, gently pinching them and smirks when he feels you clench at the feeling.

"You like that, baby, that feel good?"

You nod fervently. "You're doing such a good job riding my cock, sweetheart. That's it." He grips your hips again, having you bounce on it. He throws it head back. "Fuck, just like that. God—fuck."

You settle both of your hands, palms face-down, on each of his pectorals, settling onto his cock again and then you begin to roughly buck your hips against him, riding him as hard as your body can manage.

So much for letting him do all the work...

He says your name over and over again, eyes closed, a curse escaping his lips every-other word.

He's gripping your hips and sides so hard you're sure he'll leave bruises, but you don't dare tell him to stop. Finally, he sits up, crushing you against him, his face buried in your breasts, taking one, then the other into his mouth, gently biting down and sucking on them as you continue to ride and ride, his breathing become more erratic, his hips bucking up into you, the tip of his cock plunging against your cervix.

"Fuck, baby, just like that. Good girl. Ride my fucking cock. Just like that, honey."

Finally, you climax, your walls clenching around him over and over again, the first time you'd come from anything other than clitoral stimulation.

Jacob quickly follows you over the edge, his cum shooting inside of you, hot and plentiful as he moans into your hair.

Once the two of you settle, coming down from your orgasms, he slowly eases you onto your back once more, removing his cock from you inch-by-inch, his cum spilling out of you, onto the ground.

"There's so much of it," you say, surprised, looking up to him, noticing his member was coated in it, sticky cum dripping from the tip still.

He smirks, looking between your spread legs where your cunt was now just a messy red hole—covered in him—needing to be filled again. "And there's plenty more, trust me."

[crazyyluvr]

Could you do like a Jason Grace x gf!reader where the reader and him get into a small argument so they end up competing in opposite teams during capture the flag, to sort of avoid eachother, but the reader gets injured during the game and jason is super worried, and they make up afterwards? Gosh im sorry if this is too specific, I just thought I'd be cute haha

Stop Being Nice to Me, I'm Supposed to be Mad at You

pairing: jason grace x gf!reader

summary: in which Jason gets in an argument with you before a Capture the Flag game and you end up avoiding each other... until you get injured, and Jason couldn't let the previous argument stop him from checking up on you.

wc: 1.9k

content: argument, she/her pronouns, set in camp jupiter with some made up characters, jason and reader are in different cohorts for plot purposes, reader uses a spear, reader is a cohort leader

note: i’m so sorry that it took me so long to do this anon, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

short oneshot under the cut :: not proofread

"You —" Jason started, but stopped himself when he noticed that his tone was getting too aggressive. "You could have gotten worse injuries, both you and the newbie."

You sighed, rubbing your temples for the nth time that day. "I know, okay? I dealt with the situation before it could escalate."

You were on patrol with a fellow probatio cohort mate the night before, and an enormous warthog suddenly appeared, wanting to ram the entrance to camp.

You, of course, had to cover for your cohort mate's ass by pushing them out of the way to avoid the warthog's tusks. Your arm almost got skewered in the process, but the fight ended in your favor — a fight that consisted of you screaming bloody murder in the warthog's face and pushing the newbie out of the way constantly before they could get murdered by the large animal.

The only wound you got from that fight is a cut on your cheek. It wasn't that bad, but the fact that it was on your cheek (which is full of blood), it caused quite a red waterfall.

The cut was almost healed by now, the white patch of bandage on your cheek just a precaution to fight off infections. But of course, Jason took it upon himself as your boyfriend to worry excessively over your wellbeing.

Speaking of Jason, he wasn't satisfied with your previous answer. "Either way, you shouldn't have compromised your safety like that. You may have killed the monster before it could get worse, but that still doesn't change the fact that you could have died."

"But I didn't, because I dealt with it," you scoffed. One thing you hated was when people treated you as if you couldn't take care of yourself. You've been able to support yourself on your own for a good while before you discovered Camp Jupiter and got claimed by your godly parent.

You appreciated the blonde boy's concern, but that doesn't change the fact that he thought that you were reckless. I mean, yeah, you kind of were, but that's besides the point.

Jason opened his mouth to protest further, but a horn blaring in the distance interrupted him.

"Hey!" Someone called your name, and you were grateful to have an excuse to look away from Jason's intense blue stare. "We have to strategize for Capture the Flag. You're leading us, remember?"

You spared one last glance at Jason, whose expression was clear: we aren't done. You scoffed again, turning back to your cohort mate — Paul, you think his name was — who happened to be the probatio you were on guard with last night.

"Okay, I'll go with you," You responded, jogging away from Jason. You could feel the heat of his glare at the back of your head, but you couldn't bring yourself to care all that much. Capture the Flag was a fairly new game in camp, but that didn't stop it from rising in popularity from how you could be as violent as you want as long as you don't severely hurt anyone.

It was the perfect opportunity for you to let out some steam.

"Did I interrupt something?" Paul asked, worried that he had upset Jason, the son of Jupiter and one of the strongest demigods in camp.

You shook your head. "No, it's fine. Let's just get this show on the road, yeah?"

Paul nodded, the nervousness on his face fading but not entirely as you both jogged towards the assembly of cohorts in the hall.

Reyna, one of the camp's praetors, started the briefing. "Cohorts one and four will go against cohorts two, three, and five."

The people in your cohort — cohort four — groaned at the disadvantage they were given, making Reyna put her hand up to silence them. "We drew lots, so those who got the shorter stick have to utilize everyone they have to turn the odds towards them."

You cracked your knuckles, your fingers itching to get your hands dirty. Your trusty Imperial Gold spear was strapped onto your back, and you were impatiently waiting for the opportunity to bring it out.

Reyna went on with the usual warnings of no killing and maiming, which made you zone out. You felt eyes on the back of your head again, but you ignored them, knowing that it was Jason's doing. You weren't going to give him the satisfaction of eye contact with him.

"Good luck, and let the games begin," Reyna concluded, making the people around you roar and bang their weapons together.

They all jogged out of the hall. The ten minutes of preparation had begun, and you along with James from the First Cohort led your big group into the building that was constructed the night before just for today's Capture the Flag.

"We're based here, while the other group is based in the forest," James said. "They outnumber us, but we have the higher ground."

"Three teams," you continued. "A group of three at most to get the flag, a big group to distract the other group on their home turf, and a small squad here to guard the flag."

"We're spreading ourselves pretty thin," James noted, sounding worried. "Are you sure about this?"

You nodded. You mulled this over in your head while Reyna was briefing them all on safety precautions a few minutes ago, and you're confident that this is a good strategy. "We put Halley and Taino as part of the people left behind here. You and me will infiltrate with one other person. The rest... cause some mayhem."

"Alright, you heard her! Let's go win this!" James roared, charging out of the building with you by his side, your other teammates' footsteps thundering behind you, cheering as they ran. You all moved as one big group, all of you trained to move coordinately and orderly even in something as messy as war.

Let the game begin, you grinned.

—————

Capture the Flag ended in your team's victory, thanks to you and the probie coming in clutch and swiping the flag while running away from Hannibal the war elephant.

However, one of the children of Vulcan had left an experimental trap that you unknowingly fell into, leading to your only major injury during that game.

Twelve pins sticking into your leg was not how you envisioned this game to end, but hey, at least you won, right?

Paul the probie was the one who escorted you to the infirmary. It seemed he was feeling guilty about your patrol shift the night before and how you kept having to cover his ass and wanted to return the favor somehow.

"I'm fine," you repeated yourself once again to the Apollo kid who looked at your leg in concern. Too much concern in your opinion. "It's just a few pins."

"That were basically shot into your leg," The Apollo kid retorted, shaking their head and sighing. "Those Vulcan kids got some nerve to put an unstable trap in a game. You could have gotten worse injuries if those pins landed anywhere else. If worse came to worse, you wouldn't be able to use your leg again if they hit the wrong spot."

You shrugged. "But they didn't, so let's just be grateful and get them out of my leg, yeah?"

The Apollo kid started the process, with you occasionally groaning in pain as they pulled pin after pin out of your thigh. After the fourth pin, the infirmary doors slammed open, revealing a winded blonde, purple camp shirt slightly tattered after the Capture the Flag game around half an hour ago.

"I — I heard what happened," Jason said, his voice breathy with exhaustion, like he ran all the way there. “Are you okay?”

You observed him blankly before turning your head away slightly to cut the eye contact with him. The annoyance you had felt towards him didn’t quite cool down yet. “I'm fine. Not like there’s needles in my leg or — anything.”

The last word came out strained as the Apollo kid pulled out two needles at the same time. Your body jolted unexpectedly at the sudden pain.

“Grace, keep your girlfriend still, will you?” The Apollo kid retorted, not even bothering to look up from their work to address the son of Jupiter properly. “She’s twitchy.”

Jason took a few more steps towards you, but he hesitated. He knew you were still angry at him, but he wanted to help you. He wanted to do anything to relieve you of the pain you were in right now, no matter how many times you'd say that you were "fine" or that the pain was "bearable."

Jason looked at you, silently asking you for your consent. You sighed, looking away again, but the expression on your face was calmer than how it was before. The blonde boy took it as a sign to continue, gently placing his hands on your shoulders.

Now that there was someone restraining you, the child of Apollo showed no mercy. They started pulling pins out consistently, going as fast and as careful as possible so you don’t bleed out.

“Oh shit,” you winced, a hand instinctively going up to clutch Jason’s wrist tightly as you tried to bear with the pain while making as little noise as possible.

Jason did his job well, keeping his hands firm to prevent you from flinching too hard. His own face was slightly contorted, like he felt your pain too.

Well, maybe he did. Spiritually…?

The last of the damned needles was dropped into the metal container with a clang. “Alright, now I can bandage.”

Even though it was no longer necessary, Jason didn’t let go of you. His hold on you became more gentle, but his hands remained on your shoulders, as yours remained wrapped loosely around his wrist.

Despite your (now lesser) anger towards him, you appreciated his presence. Him just being there was enough for your heartbeat to steady, your breaths to even. That was the kind of effect only he had on you.

“Done,” The Apollo kid exhaled, snipping the bandage. They stood, stretching. “I’m gonna leave you two here, but Grace, don’t let her leave. I’m not discharging her until later.”

Without another word, they slipped away, leaving you alone with Jason.

Jason finally let go of you and slowly sank into the chair beside you, studying you with attentive and concerned eyes. You found yourself missing the warmth from his palms. “How are you feeling?”

You shrugged. “Fine. The pain is bearable.”

Jason nodded. He fidgeted with his golden coin, sliding it along his fingers.

When he finally gathered the courage to say what he wanted to say, he looked up at you and held your gaze. “I want to apologize for my behavior earlier today. I don’t doubt your ability to protect yourself, but I just… worry about you.”

You exhaled, smiling slightly at him. The warmth reached your eyes. “I appreciate the concern, and don’t worry about it. I’m just petty sometimes that I hold grudges against the most worthless things.”

“But I love you anyway,” Jason chuckled, genuine love dilating his pupils and stretching his lips to a grin.

You laughed, looking at him softly. Your thigh was throbbing, your head felt funny from a small headache, but your heart soared because of the blonde boy you grew to care for more than you cared for anything and anyone else. “And I love you for loving me anyway.”

[crazyk-imagine]

Breakfast and Shocking News

Pairing: Theo Raeken x Pack member!reader

Characters: Theo Raeken, Pack member!reader, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Scott McCall, Liam Dunbar, Malia Tate (Hale), Lydia Martin, Derek Hale, Peter Hale

Warnings: Fluff, post show, Theo is probably ooc, cute pack moment, Isaac should have been in season 6a/b and the movie so I brought him back, I got lost in tw fanfic tiktoks and now I'm back on tw

Word Count: 918

Is this the start of a series like my gym one for Triple Frontier? Maybe, we'll see.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You make another bowl of pancake batter, making sure to make more than you did last time. God, that was a mess.

You had to calm down three of them and Stiles should know better than to throw a fit in front of everyone. He's older than them for god's sake.

You shake your head and scoop more batter into the second pan you have going.

Footsteps entering the kitchen alarm you but enough to make you worry.

"Hey," he pecks your cheek.

"Someone else could be up, you know."

"I already checked." He taps his ears.

"Really?" You stare the chimera with a deadpan expression.

"Yeah, really," he says sarcastically, smirking at you afterwards.

"You're not cute."

"Oh, I think you're wrong. I'm," he wraps his arms around your waist. "Adorable and as your adorable boyfriend, it's my duty to tell you that," he pecks your neck, the spot underneath your ear. "Your pancakes are close to burning."

Your eyes widen. "Oh, crap." You remove yourself from his grasp and remove the pancakes from the pans. "Go sit down. You can get started on breakfast before everyone else wakes up."

"As long as you eat with me." He turns off the stove, pulling you with him.

"But I-"

He sits down, pulling you down beside him. He prepares your plate before making his own. "Eat." His free arm wraps around your back, his hand landing on your hip, keeping you close.

"Sometimes I wonder how you were ever a bad guy," you comment, cutting up your pancake.

"Stiles says the same thing but more sarcastically."

"It'd be alarming if he didn't use sarcasm." You look for your glass and realize you didn't get something to drink for either of you. "Do you want milk or juice?" You look in the fridge.

"I'm not Liam."

You purse your lips. "Just because he's younger and doesn't like coffee, doesn't make him a child."

He gives you a look.

"Don't be mean. He's a nice guy."

You reach for a mug in the cabinet.

"He has a crush on you."

"He does not."

"He follows you around like a puppy."

"He says I'm like an older sister to him."

"So, he doesn't get his ass kicked."

"You got punched by him at least three times."

Theo scoffs. "Did he tell you that?"

"Everyone has."

He shakes his head, stabbing his fork into his food. "I let him."

"Sure, you did." You place the mugs beside the plates and sit back down. "I'd still call you to kick somebody's ass for me," you tell him, wanting him to feel better.

"Yeah?"

You nod, "of course I would. Also, not to mention how hot you look when you shifted."

"You think I'm hot?" He turns to you.

You pause in your bite, slowly swallowing. "No?"

"You do. You think I'm hot."

You scoff, pushing him away. "I didn't say that."

"You said I'm hot," he repeats to tease you.

"No," you whine when he leans in.

"What did I just walk into?"

You both freeze, slowly turning to face the human of the pack. "Hey, Stiles."

"Don't "hey Stiles" me." He points between the two of you. "What's a- what's going on here?"

"We're having breakfast."

"You're looking a little close for people having breakfast."

"What's it to you?" Asks Theo.

"Something you want to tell your friendly neighborhood FBI Agent?"

You two glance at one another and shrug. "No."

He nods and ventures over to the coffee maker. "I don't buy it."

Some of the other pack members wander into the kitchen.

"Did Stiles find out?"

"Little bit," you tell her, pinching your fingers together, leaving a bit of space between your thumb and index finger.

"I don't get it."

"He's about to figure it out," Liam tells the were-coyote.

"Oh."

"Wait- you guys know they're dating?!" Stiles screeches.

"Uh," Malia, Liam, and Brett make the same noise.

"No?" Scott chimes in.

"Oh, please. It was painfully obvious from the start."

"How did you get in?" The true alpha asks Peter.

"When I got here," Derek adds.

"When did you get in?" Stiles asks.

"A few minutes ago."

"Is everyone here?" Malia asks.

"Now, we are," Lydia interrupts.

"Great. How many of you knew these two were dating?"

Everyone raises their hands, except for Liam.

"Okay, I'm not the only one."

"I was the one who got them together."

"Oh, great so everyone knew before me."

"Guess so," you shrug.

"Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"We knew you'd judge."

He scoffs, "I wouldn’t-"

"I asked you a hypothetical question and asked how you would feel if I was dating someone from the pack."

"Uh huh... and?"

"You said rip the band aid off and I said Theo. You told me to put the band aid back on and pretended I didn’t say anything after that."

"And your point is?"

"You didn’t want to accept it therefore I didn't actually tell you."

"I can- I can accept it."

"You can't," Isaac pats his shoulder before pushing him out of the way.

"When did you get into town?"

"This morning."

"Hence the big batch for breakfast," you answer.

"You knew he was coming?"

"Of course, I did. I picked him up."

"I did," Theo corrects you.

"It was a team effort, sweetheart." You pat his knee.

"Ew. Please, I'm trying to enjoy my coffee."

"Like you need something else to get you all jittery," you tell the human.

He sarcastically laughs in return.

-

Taglist

@kmc1989

[gritsandbrits]

In light of recent news over the passing of voice actress Arleen Sorkin, I wish to reflect on the impact of Harley Quinn on my life.

When I was a kid I grew with Harley. From getting fired from a tv show for giving questionable advice, as her backstory in the 2004 cartoon The Batman, to falling in mad love with her own patient as is the origin story in the 92 animated and subsequent media, Harley has such a big role in Batman lore I don't remember a single time where she wasn't involved. Sometimes I wonder what batman mythos was like before her inclusion.

The first thing that drew me to Harley was her design. Red and black the colors of danger which she was. But there was an added playfulness, that she genuinely enjoyed being herself. She was also VERY hilarious and at times out of pocket. Child Me was amazed. Did I want to be her? Not necessarily. But she did look like someone I'd hang out with.

The meta origin of Harley is just as fascinating. The creators of BTAS saw a performance of Arleen in a clown costume. From there inspiration leapt off the pages onto the big screen. Unlike most of the cast Harley didn't originate from the comics. She was created exclusively for the show, an OC if you will. OCs tend to have a mixed reputation. But Harley's concept and execution was so perfect, she almost feels like she could've been a real character in the comics.

And real she became!

Introduced as a psychiatrist, after receiving Joker as a patient, Dr. Harleen Quinzel begins to fall in love with him; and down a path to iconoclastic doom. Her love for Joker is obsessive, hilarious shallow, horrible but also downright entertaining to watch. I enjoyed every moment she was on screen: I still quote "rev up your Harley" to this day! I see her despair, her goofy outlook and morbid ruthlessness. I wanted her to get comeuppance but at the same time I can't help but feel sorry for her.

Joker abuses her, ignores her, and only complements her when she does something good for him. While the makes how awful their relationship clear, there are a good amount of fans who sees the pair as a glamorous whirlwind romance a la Sonny and Brenda or Jane and Mr Rochester. While such fantasies may seem morbid I don't blame them. No matter how horrible Harley is there is a tiny unavoidable spot that aches for her to win. Or at least see Joker for the monster he really is. While Harley is often held accountable for her actions her arc shows that no one deserves to be abused.

Arleen's performance played a major role in brining Harley to life. She nailed her weaknesses and strengths with such a sincere note that elicits pity, humor and shock at the same time. And of course that ear candy of the New Jersey accent that set the standard for future VAs. Whenever I look at a picture of Harley I hear Arleen. Not to say the other VAs aren't bad, but Arleen's performance is that iconic I can't help but think of her!

Over the years Harley grew apart from Clown Prince of Crime. She got her own spinoff comics, made appearances in other DC media. She even gotten her own tv show which sees the DC universe through her eyes. Harley has marginally healthier romances, primarily Poison Ivy (this isn't to say that pairing doesn't have it's share of toxic moments). The Harlivy ship is a fan favorite but even without shipping and the wars, Harley still shines bright as the Bat Signal.

In a way Harley's descent and eventual rise back to normalcy reminds me of my own struggles. I wasn't a happy child growing up, I've made a lot of mistakes and bad choices. To see a person like Harley work to take back control of her life, makes me feel a bit better for my own prospects. Of course I wouldn't torture a kid to near insanity or blow up a whole city but I can at least put my energy towards something constructive. Harley shows people like me thay we can be more than just screwups if we try.

Of course I can't forget Harley's design. The red&black suit is an icon by itself and inspires similar designs in and outside comics. I could talk all day about how cool her design is from a show and historical perspective but that would take me all day. While I prefer her classic palette, her recent blue and pinks aren't bad either and show just how far she's come out of Joker's shadow. It's even to the point where when, I see something black and red and white I have to point it out and say "Harley would love that outfit!"

Nowadays I complain about the oversaturation of Harley quinn (seriously what was DC thinking taking a team started by a disabled character to reclaim her agency) and overshadowing other cool DC villains. But I would be lying of I say she didn't leave an impact. And it's all thanks to Arleen Sorkin for breathing life into a character that proves you don't need to be be from "the comics" to be considered cool.

Thank you Arleen! May her memory be a blessing - Grits.

[nowimyurdaisy]

can you write smth for verstappen!reader and charles leclerc? and max tries to break them apart and they break up bc of him and then they’re both miserable and then max sees how happy they are together and lets them get back together? smth like that tysm 😭💕

OMG I LUV THIS SO MUCH

pairing: charles leclerc x verstappen!reader

warnings: swearing

a/n: sorry this took so long 😭 hope y'all enjoy!

masterlist

-✧⬝✧⬝✧⬝✧⬝✧-

It wasn't a secret around the Ferrari paddock that you were dating Charles Leclerc, but it also wasn't a secret that you are the Max Verstappen's sister. Not that your brother was very aware of your dating life. *cough* that your boyfriend is Charles *cough* He would flip if he knew.

Oh and he did flip, when he found out.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?" max yelled, stomping towards you and Charles who had bolted apart when they heard max.

You looked around nervously not making eye contact, "nothing" you said.

"nothing?!" Max arched an eyebrow. He looks at your boyfriend giving him the death glare. You look at Charles pleading him to not say anything.

Max wins, "I'm sorry" Charles says.

You don't make eye contact, but pull Charles close to you, "Max. I'd like you to meet my boyfriend" you turn to max and smile. Charles chuckles nervously.

"boyfriend?!" You nod at his words. "Y/n you're dating my rival?!"

"yep" you smile, then turn and say "sorry brother but we gotta go" and with that you and Charles walk away.

-

This night was not going how it was planned, you planned for a night out with your boyfriend because you hadn't been spending as much time together recently, well ever since max found out. You weren't sure if the reason he was distancing himself was because he was A) afraid of max, B) Max had given him some sort of talk (or yell), C) he was really busy, or D) he just didn't want to hang out.

You were really hoping it wasn't the last option. So now here you were sitting across from Charles at a restaurant of his choosing. Sitting in this stupid dress, getting into a stupid argument over the silliest thing, that turned into an argument about max's reaction to your relationship. And Max taking his feelings out on the track.

The yelling turned heads at the restaurant. Eventually the two of you made your way out of the restaurant, you were sure if the two of you were a cartoon characters smoke would be coming out of your ears.

The night ended so ugly. "I HATE YOU. I. HATE. YOU." you yelled at Charles. "I never, ever want to see you again!"

Charles' features softened almost, the realization of what was happening hitting him, "FINE!" He yelled angrily back, "I hope you have a terrible life y/n"

With that you slammed the door in his face. As soon as it shut, you slid down the door sobs erupting from you.

-

It had been a couple weeks since you had seen Charles. You really didn't want to go to the race and face the chance of seeing Charles, but Max really wanted you there. So begrudgingly you agreed to go.

You showed up to the race wearing all black and sunglasses. The moment you stepped into the Red Bull paddock and Christian tried to greet you, you gave a bland "Hello" and sat down at one of the chairs and watched everyone work. Everyone got the message that you clearly didn't want to be there and were only there for their star racer, your brother.

It was a good race, Max won, again. Of course you were happy for him but you weren't really in the mood to celebrate. However you joined max and the rest of the grid at a club to celebrate. You couldn't help but wonder if Charles would be there. Probably not because he had a shit race not even finished, getting a DNF. You didn't want to feel bad for him, bit a small pang of guilt coursed through you thinking you may have been the cause of his DNF.

You were leaning against the bar, a stiff drink in your hand. When you felt someones eyes on you, a very familiar pair of eyes, you turned in around, your eyes meeting his. He looked away quickly. He looked almost sad.

Max had turned around just in time to catch this interaction. The realization finally hits him of how happy the two of you were together, and that he might actually be the cause of your misery. Suddenly feeling guilty for being happy when the two broke up. Now realizing what he must do.

-

He knew he had to get the two of you back together. Now he just had to come up with a plan. It was the most cliched plan ever trapping them in a room together to force them to talk it out. He told Carlos his plan, Carlos thought it was brilliant, since he could see the pain in his teammate's eyes ever since the two of you broke up. Carlos tested the group chat saying to meet at max's room to have a guys night. Then, Max texted you telling you to meet him in his room before dinner.

When you got to his room Max claimed he had a call he had to take and stepped outside for a bit, you didn't miss the note sitting on the table but before you could investigate someone knocked, you assumed it was max who accidentaly closed his door on his way out. When you opened it you where met with the face of the last man you wanted to see.

"What are you doing here?" you asked almost slamming the door in his face.

"I'm here to hang with the guys, why are you here?" he retorted. "he said he had something important to say" Then you saw your brother come out of nowhere push the two of you inside and lock the door, you finally realized that the lock was on the outside of the door.

"That little shit"you mumbled under your breath.

"What?" Charles asked, "what is happening?" CHarles asked looking around the room frantically finally his eyes settled on the paper in your hand.

"My idiot brother set this up" you sighed, rolling your eyes.

"What does the letter say?"

Dear Y/N and Charles,

I am so sorry that I screwed this up for you two.

Now get your heads out of your asses and fucking MAKE UP!

The two of you are clearly fucking MISERABLE without the other.

Your favorite person,

Max

"That little shit" you repeated again much louder this time.

"Is- is it true?" Charles finally asked. You tilted your head as if to question. "Did I really hurt you that much?"

You just nodded slowly, "are- are you hurt too Charles? Or did I imagine the pain in your eyes in the club?" Slowly but surely the two of you were inching closer to each other.

"I've really missed you y/n/n" Charles spoke softly, he reached for your hand but pulled back afraid of your possible reaction.

"I miss you too" you replied grabbing his hand, entwining your fingers. "I can't believe I let my brother of all people get in between us" you let out a light chuckle.

"Can we just forget these past weeks never happened?" Charles asked so politely.

You smiled, looking him in the eyes, "Alright ask me"

"Ask you what?" He asked.

"You know what" you replied.

Charles rolled his eyes, "y/n y/l/n will you make me the happiest man and be my girlfriend?"

"Yes you idiot of course, I love you" you pulled Charles into you, your lips meeting his.

"I missed you so fucking much" Charles mumbled pulling away.

"And?" you replied littering kisses all over his face.

"And I love you so much" he laughed, pulling you back in for another deep kiss.

"Please never leave me again" you whispered.

"Never."

As you leaned in for another kiss you could hear your brother and a couple other friends on the other side of the door peering in through the window shouting yes and high-fiving.

You and Charles laughed foreheads touching.

-✧⬝✧⬝✧⬝✧⬝✧-

taglist

[railingsofsorrow]

Epilogue

[peter parker x reader]

summary: harry finds your behaviour slightly suspicious & there's an evening spent between friends.

pairing: p.parker x f!reader; slightly harry osborn x f!reader; mj x felicia hardy.

w.c: 3.3K

warnings/content: jealousy; injuries (mentioned); protective harry osborn; language; migraines (mentioned); clumsy but committed peter parker (yes, he learnt from his mistakes. finally); discussion about the multiverse theory; angst but there's more fluff this time sadly; minor character's death (mentioned).

A/N: this fic has come to an end :( it was fun writing this. my first experience in writing a short spiderman fic, it was so hard to come up with a good ending and it probably still not perfect but I feel like it's a good enough one. I hope you like it too and that you'll come back to read more of my spiderman stuff, cause there will definitely be more! good reading, people <3

navi

masterpost

series masterlist

mcu masterlist

[1] [1.2] [2] [3] [4]

“So they're just gone?”  

You turn your neck to glare at your friend. Ever since you mentioned your migraines to him one day and he saw one of your episodes once or twice — a little bit more than that — he hasn't stopped bugging you about it. He wanted you to go to the doctors to get checked out. Until, well. Until the migraines miraculously vanished. Your head never bothered you anymore and you're even sleeping better, given the lack of dark circles around your eyes.  

Harry wasn’t having it.  

First and foremost, he did not believe continuous migraines were cured just like that. Overnight. Because how come he saw you incapable of watching a lecture one day and you're perfectly fine on the other?  

Either you are popping some pills or someone magically healed you.  

He didn't like any of the options. 

He was still worried, okay? Harry cares. He may not be loud with it, but it's you, so he cares. And he cares a lot. You should know better than to just outright lie to him. 

“Yes. Why does it matter? I'm fine, shouldn't you be happy I'm no longer whining on your shoulder?” 

“You're not taking drugs, are you?” 

A surprised laugh echoed around the room and he almost felt his body melt at the sight of your curled up frame from how much you were laughing.  

“It amazes me,” you said between chuckles. “that you'd think I'd pull that off.” Not without him knowing, at least. You and Harry are side by side for almost the entire day.

“I don't doubt you.” 

“You're losing faith in me.” 

“I never had it.” He huffs out a laugh when you throw a pillow at his face, hitting him right on his nose. He fell on his bed with a groan, you moved his homework out of the way before he could mess it up by laying on top of it.  

“Just... tell me if it gets to that point again, okay? 

You look at him, contemplating something that he can't figure out. With the way you avoid his eyes as you answer, he knows you decided to say something else instead of that first thought. “I will. But it won't.” He found the conviction in your voice strange. You can't know if it will ever get that bad again. Just as the migraines miraculously left, they might come back.  

He didn’t question it further. 

You went back to your homework, sharing some insights on his as he does with yours. It didn’t last long until your phone started blaring beneath the pillow you're perched on, the sound being slightly muffled by the fabric.  

You feel Harry's teasing before he can sputter out a sentence.  

“Shut up.” You hissed, picking up the call without looking at the caller ID.  

“One Direction. Really?” 

“Hello.” You pointedly turn away from his smirky face. You have to take the phone away from your ear due to some loud police sirens that come from the line.  

“Hi, hello!” The distinctive voice of Peter Parker replies. Yelling. That was the only way you would be able to hear him anyway. “There's been a thing and I— Shit!”  

You concluded the phone is thrown away because his voice suddenly sounds very far. 

You offered Harry a lousy excuse to step out into the hallway, frowning at the other voices and the police sirens you could hear.  

“Peter, you—” 

“I'm back!” Again, you take the phone away from your ear with a sigh. “Sorry, I was— I was busy.” You gathered that fact by the way he sounded breathless.  

“Are you running?” 

“No!” The noise proceeded to quieten down and you raise an eyebrow at his blatant lie. “Sorry, was I loud? Feels like I was being loud. Sorry.” A door is closing and he's groaning at the end of the line. Instead of finding it funny, you start to get worried, picturing a dislocated shoulder or maybe a deep gash on his arm like last time.  

You and Peter made an agreement. When you agreed to be friends again — part of that starting over bullshit that was your idea — you and him worked on filling each other out on both of your lives. Just catching up as good friends do. Less than a month later you were patching up his wounds as if you never had stopped doing that in the first place. Sometimes, you'd even think you were back where you started as if it was all back to the start of your story in Queens. Midtown. Making plans with Ned and Peter for the weekends. Sitting with MJ at lunch as much as she claimed she hated company. . .

There was a pull at your chest every time you remembered it wasn't like this. You weren't back at that time. You couldn't go back. You only had the now and it had to be enough. It was enough.  

“Peter, are you hurt?” But you still felt the same agony whenever the idea of Peter being hurt came across your mind. An unsettling fear settling up in your core.  

“No.” he shuffled around, clearing his throat. His voice was back for you to hear it clearly. “I'm fine. Just a bank robbery downtown and I—” he paused to let out a heavy sigh. “I'm sorry I'm late, I'll be there in a second, okay?” 

You blink, confused. “What? Late for what, Peter?” 

“Hanging out?” He said followed by a tinge of uncertainty. “Uh, you said that after class—” 

Your brows shot up in recognition. “Oh! Yeah, that's—” Then you checked the time on your phone. You were supposed to meet after class to hang out around 5 p.m. It was still 3 in the afternoon. “Peter,” you held in a chuckle. “That's like, two hours away. You're not late.” 

There's silence on his end and you start laughing.  

“Oh,” he mumbled, letting out a breath of relief. “That's— That's good. I was thinking that I was like really really late and—”  

“You're good, webs.” You softly reassured him. Peter has been working really hard to make sure he doesn't mess up with you again. That included arriving early at places. “Are you at home?” 

“Yeah, I just got here.”  

“Mhm. And you're not hurt at all?” 

“Just a few scratches,” Peter answered with hesitancy. You smiled triumphantly. Not because you're happy he's hurt but because you knew you were right. “I'm fine, alright? You don't have to come.” 

“Okay.” You said, stepping back into your dorm room, catching Harry eying your frame from your bed curiously. “No broken limbs though, right?” 

Peter's scoff put a smile on your lips. “Have some faith in me. I can handle a robbery.”  

The joke Spiderman can handle a robbery but Peter Parker is still clumsy almost slips out but, thankfully, you remember you're not alone.  

“Sure. I'll see you later.” 

“Hey,” he called your name before you could hang up so you waited for him to speak. “Do you— are you going— how are you— I mean...” 

“Peter, breathe.” 

You didn’t notice Harry's eye-roll, too busy cracking up at Peter's stuttering mess.  

“Okay. Alright. Are you going by yourself? Cause I can pick you up and we can go, you know, so you don't have to go alone?” He clarified, a strain in his voice as if he's been choking up to say that.  

“Oh. Harry and I are going to head out together, actually. He's here.” 

You patiently waited for his response. “Of course. Yeah. Okay. I'll see you later then. You and— and Harry. And everyone else.” 

“Yeah.” You sat down on the bed, biting the inside of your cheek. A weird feeling of guilt in in your chest. “See you later, then. Bye.” 

You don't know why you feel guilty about turning him down. All of you would meet in the same place anyway so it's not like you weren't gonna see him, right? It's just a matter of logistics.  

“Was that your boyfriend?” 

You gave Harry a blank stare as you threw your phone to the side to go back to your assignment. One of his eyebrows arched up in defiance, he played your game of not looking away for a few minutes before you got sick of it.  

“I wonder if the reason you're bothered by Peter is because you secretly have a crush on him.” 

He looks away first and your lips spread into a satisfied smirk.  

“Parker's not my type.” Harry uttered, leaning over your lap to mark a question that you had gotten wrong. His curls tickling your chin. “And this is wrong. It's not fifteen, it's fifty.” He decided to add for good measure, stepping out of your personal space. “I'm not bothered by him.” 

You hummed quietly, erasing the previous calculation to redo the math.  

“Who is your type anyway?” You asked, trying to cut through the tension. Every time you mention Peter, Harry's mood shifted. He got too quiet. He just didn’t like him for some reason you couldn't yet figure out. Peter and he haven't met before, that much you know. You claim you'll be out of this, because it's none of your business, some people just don't like each other, it happens. But you're curious and if the opportunity to find out the X of the equation comes, you won't run from it. 

“You'll never know.” His mumble is so low that you wouldn't have heard it if you weren't sitting so close to each other. He steals the pen you were using, earning a frown from you. “I like this one better.” 

“Buy one for you then,” you complained, not moving to get the pen back from him. You take the one he was using instead, eager to finish the assignment so you can have the rest of the afternoon free with your friends. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

[Pete]: (Picture attached)  

[Pete]: Do you want this back? 

When you opened the text message, your breath hitched. The image Peter had sent you showed the red scarf, the one you never let go of. You hadn't seen it in a while, ever since... Ever since you paid him a visit that night. The night you were set on burning the scarf along with that collection of pictures you found in your room.  

You've been to Peter's place countless times after that, though. You wondered why he never mentioned anything.  

[You]: Keep it. 

You sighed, conflicted with that short answer. You weren't being rude, you didn't meant to be. But you didn't need the scarf anymore. Not when you have him back in your life. You realized the scarf represented everything the two of you lived and everything you didn't.  

You didn't want it back. You weren't ready. 

Not now, at least. You hoped he wouldn't be hurt by it. 

[You]: Maybe one day you can give it back to me.  

Satisfied with your reply, you slipped your phone into your pocket, standing up to help Harry carry five smoothies toward your table. Ned and MJ were on their way, as for Peter, you figured it was the same. His apartment wasn't that far from where you were.  

“I know a loser when I see one.”  

“Hello, MJ.” You greeted after taking the first sip of your smoothie. You offer her hers and she bumps your hip, sitting beside you in the booth as a greeting. “Where's Ned?” You asked, frowning now that you didn't see the boy arriving along with her. They were always together.  

She shrugged, leaning back. “He said he would be ten minutes late. He was gonna get Peter so they could go to this store nearby his place before coming here.”  

You didn't take long to acknowledge which store she was talking about. An eye roll later, you crack out a smile in amusement. 

“The Star Wars one?” 

She nodded and the three of you quickly entered a conversation about a movie that was airing on the local theatre. Ned and Peter arrived in the middle of your discussion, a few bags in their hands that earned your curiosity.  

“Did you buy the whole store?” You joked, the edge of your lips curling up as Peter sat down in front of you, placing two little bags on the corner of his seat.  

Peter raised an eyebrow at you, amusement all over his features. “Did I?” 

“Looks like it.” 

“Oh, this is—!” Ned exclaimed, taking a sip of his smoothie. Harry held back a laugh at the boy's blissed-out state. “You got it right.” He then pointed at Harry accusingly. “I love you.” 

Harry shrugged, “I know.”  

“The one time I got your order wrong—” MJ begins. 

“You never get the right one.” Ned deadpanned, interrupting MJ's speech. The girl kicked his chin under the table and Ned proceeded to kick hers back. Just before the childish fight could escalate, you pull both of their ears and hear whining asking you to stop.  

Peter and Harry were chucking and you have to backtrack because Harry wasn't glaring at Peter for the first time. Is this progress? 

After a mindless walk to the nearest park, all of you silently decided to stick around for a while longer, basking in what was left of the sunset and the hues of orange, pink and blue that mixed together to form the purple sky of the evening.  

You teased MJ at her inability to stop texting her girlfriend while in an evening among friends and she flipped you off immediately, blushing. She's been seeing Felicia Hardy for two months and from what you could see, it was becoming rather serious, even though MJ still cannot admit it. You know your best friend and her hidden smiles and secret joy because of a new person she's interested in. 

“No, no, no. You don't get it. It's like different universes in one— Actually, no. Multiple universes that are currently happening right now. You could be you, but you're, I don't know, a villain in this other universe, while here, you're just Harry.” 

Both of your and Peter's neck snapped as you turned towards the conversation between Harry and Ned.  

Harry carried a crease between his brows, confusion twisting the corner of his lips. 

“So I'm me... but different?” 

Ned nodded vehemently. He'd always get excited whenever the topic of multiverse was brought up.  

You, on the other hand, were tense and you did not have to look at Peter to know his reaction as well. 

“I'm sure in every reality you're an entitled filthy rich bastard the same way. Don't worry.” MJ’s comment was enough you breathe again. Peter’s awkward laugh at your side.

Harry rolls his eyes, “and I'm sure you're sarcastic and bitchy about anything and anyone, Jones.” 

You throw your head back to stare up at the sky. 

“Children.” You mocked. Peter attempted to hide his laugh but he was not successful. You found it endearing how his cheeks slowly turned pink. It reminded you of when you were kids, he'd turn into a tomato every time he tried to hold in his laugh. “Behave.” 

They initiated a bickering about she started it and he started it and Ned made a comment to side with Harry to add fire to the flames.  

Sometimes you thought they could remember and then reality crashed down the moment for what it truly was. It could be good and bad at the same time. Bittersweet might be the right term to name the feeling. Of course you miss everything that was, but what currently is is also good, in a way. You have your people, despite the losses, you have him back and it's all that you could ask for. 

“Peter.”  

He gives you a sheepish smile, looking down at his shoes as he buried his hand in his jacket.  

“Did you like it?” 

You close the small box carefully. “How could I not? It's beautiful. I loved it.” You said, then punched his shoulder playfully. He pretends it hurts, but you know it doesn't. “Don't spend that much money on me, Parker.” 

Peter shrugged, playing the nonchalant part. “I'll do what I want, actually.” 

“You're such an annoying little shit, aren't you?” 

He shrugged again, this time he's got a cocky grin and a little smug attitude you recognized from when he got an answer right and you got one wrong in an assignment. It's a glimpse of the carefree nature of Peter Parker. He's a little bit proud at times, but still clumsy around people, shy between strangers, and wears his heart on his sleeve for the people he truly cares about.  

“You love it.” 

“Help me,” you asked him when everyone stopped by the fountain on your way back to university. You had your back to him and he finally understood what he was supposed to do when he saw your fingers holding the two parts of the necklace behind your neck. He stepped forward, taking both parts from your hands and freezing once your fingers met. Your skin was cold. You shivered as he clasped the necklace, adjusting with a shaky sigh. His throat moved under his hard gulp. “Thank you.” You turned around with the little rose gold maple leaf pendant around your neck.  

Peter blinked at you in a daze. The streetlight illuminated your figure as you moved your hair away from your shoulders so it wasn't curling around the necklace anymore.  

You're beautiful. So beautiful.  

As soon as he saw the maple leaf pendant, you came into his mind. It reminded him of the Fall, your favorite season, which, of course, led him to you. Funny that everything, somehow, lead him to you. He doesn't know what his life would be if it didn't. Nothing would make much sense, honestly. Peter didn't know how the other Peter Parkers handled losing you in their universe. It was such a difficult thought for him to even consider. His initial goal was to protect you and if that meant he had to let you go, then so be it. He would do it. Because you deserved a life without the mess that was his life. You deserved peace and happiness. But that plan backfired when he saw you crossing the street to reach a coffee shop. It was 8pm in the evening and he was on patrol. He had stopped two robberies an hour before so he was getting ready to go home and throw himself into bed, give a rest to his alter ego for the night. Until you showed up, crossing the street so distracted that a car almost hit you. Peter pulled you back in time, a hand on your shoulder to steady you from the scare of the car horn. You had been crying and at the moment Peter's only thought was to comfort you and figure out who had made you feel that way.  

“Myself.” You laughed, tearfully. “Sorry. I wasn't paying attention.” 

He convinced himself that from that point on he had to watch over you, to simply make sure you wouldn't cross the street without looking both ways again, or trip mad and get a severe head injury. He'd watch you from afar, it couldn't do any harm. 

In reality, that was Peter's way of not letting you go and it had not been fair to either one of you. Especially you, who earned headaches and migraines and insomnia because of memories begging to come back, memories that shouldn't have been removed at all.  

Peter disappointed you. He disappointed himself too — and probably Aunt May, who must be shaking her head in disapproval wherever she was watching over him from. He's slowly making peace with himself after everything. He's finally seen that having you close by was better than the heartache of letting you go and trying foolishly to move on. He didn't want to move on from you and if that was selfish. . . that was fine. Peter was never anything besides selfless his entire life. And if you wanted to be in his life, why couldn't he want to be in yours?  

He would acknowledge the past and make the best out of the present. As for the future, well, he wasn't concerned, it would probably lead him to you. As always.  

[bi-bard]

I Dial Drunk, I'll Die a Drunk, I'd Die for You - Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto Imagine [The Bear]

Title: I Dial Drunk, I'll Die a Drunk, I'd Die for You

Pairing: Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto X Reader

Based On: Dial Drunk

Word Count: 1,907 words

Warning(s): drunk character, a lot of cussing, argument, mention of unhealthy coping/bad mental health

Summary: A night of drunken grief lands Carmy in more trouble than he thought it would. He calls the one person that he remembers being able to rely on. His night of calls brings up old memories of the person that seems to be hellbent on ignoring him.

Author's Note: I knew that this song was going to be for Carmy since I first heard a clip of it on TIkTok.

**Flashbacks are indicated by "--" and italics**

NOAH KAHAN - STICK SEASON [WE'LL ALL BE HERE FOREVER] WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

--------------------

The first missed call was understandable.

Carmy would've missed it too if someone decided to randomly call him at damn near three in the morning. He couldn't fault (Y/n) for that one.

But the second missed call made him close his eyes and shut his eyes.

He never wanted to be here.

He never planned to spend his night in a fucking cell. He never planned to be leaning his head on a payphone, trying to get in touch with the one person that probably never wanted to hear his voice again.

He had originally planned to spend the whole night alone. He was going to drink until he could pass out on his sad couch in his sad apartment and have a few hours where he didn't have to think about the world around him. A night without the pressure and guilt and anger seemed comforting.

He didn't truly remember why he left his apartment.

Truly, his only vivid memory was the cop pulling up next to him on the bridge as he drunkenly stumbled around. He didn't know what had led the cops to him, but he didn't truly feel like he had enough time to question it before he was getting placed in the back of the car.

Now, his head was starting to hurt, and he was getting more and more upset with the ringing on the line.

--

There weren't many people that Carmy tried to reconnect with.

That was usually because either they didn't have any desire to or because he didn't have any desire to find that out.

(Y/n) was an exception.

They had tried to keep in contact when he went to school. Carmy was the reason that such a plan didn't work. He didn't try like they did. It was some twisted consequence of his anger and self-worth issues and a million other problems that he didn't even acknowledge enough to try to solve.

When he came home, they were one of the first to find out.

Through all of the stress and chaos, they basically grabbed his wrist and dragged him out of the restaurant for a while.

He ended up spending the morning with a cup of arguably shitty coffee and following (Y/n) around while they ran errands.

Somehow, he got dragged into a bookshop. He felt entirely out of place there. He spent most of his time looking at the covers and giving random feedback on how books looked.

"Thank you for coming out with me today," (Y/n) said after a while. "It really does mean a lot."

"Yeah, you're welcome," Carmy replied, admittedly zoned out before the fact. "Why did you want me to come with you?"

(Y/n) shrugged. "You just seemed so... overwhelmed. I thought that something like this would be a nice enough escape from whatever the fuck is going on in that restaurant."

"Oh," he nodded. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," they chuckled.

Something in Carmy's mind seemed to click at that point. It was as if his body was moving without his conscious thought catching up.

(Y/n) was about to round the corner of one of the aisles before he caught their hand. They went to question him but didn't get the chance to do so before he leaned in and pressed his lips to theirs.

There were a few moments where (Y/n) froze where they were, but that soon wore off. Their arms wrapped around Carmy's neck as they kissed him back.

They started to grin into the kiss after a few moments.

And Carmy couldn't help but mimic them.

--

"Alright, come on."

Carmy snapped out of his thoughts when the cop spoke up.

"You clearly aren't gonna get an answer," the cop explained. "I can't let you spend all night on the phone."

"Fuck that," Carmy said simply before holding out his hand for another coin. "They'll answer. I know it."

The cop glanced around at the room around him. He knew that he shouldn't even entertain this idea. But, against his better judgment, he held out some more change for Carmy to use.

Carmy nodded as a silent thank you before turning back to the phone, silently begging for this to be the time that (Y/n) answered.

--

He didn't mean to slam the door.

In all of his anger and stress and poor coping abilities, Carmy wasn't thinking straight enough to stop himself.

He should have thought about it more. He got home at almost one in the morning. He knew that (Y/n) had been waiting for him. He knew that they probably had fallen asleep after work. But some part of him refused to acknowledge any of that.

"What the fuck," (Y/n) grumbled as they sat up from where they had fallen asleep on Carmy's couch.

Guilt found a place in Carmy's chest as he looked at their tired face.

(Y/n) rubbed the sleep out of their eyes before looking back at him. Their face went from tired to concerned in a matter of seconds. They had always been better at understanding his emotions than anyone else... even himself.

They made it over to him in a matter of seconds. Their hand found the side of his face. The feeling of their skin on his made his eyes fall shut for a moment as he took a deep breath.

"What happened," (Y/n) asked.

"Nothing," he replied. "I'm just... I'm really fucking tired."

He had a love-hate relationship with the knowing look that crossed (Y/n)'s face. It was great that he didn't need to perfectly explain his every emotion for (Y/n) to understand him, but it was awful to know that he had little chance of ever hiding how he truly felt from them.

With almost no words spoken, (Y/n) dragged Carmy to bed, letting him slip his shoes off and lay on top of the covers. They laid down next to him. He laid on his stomach and they laid on their side. Their hand ran through his sweaty hair, leaning over to press a kiss to his temple.

His eyes slowly closed as another kiss was pressed to his cheek.

He fell asleep that night feeling comforted for the first time in years... and he never knew how much he truly craved that.

--

"I don't know who the fuck this is, but you need to stop fucking calling me."

Carmy jumped when he finally heard a voice on the other end.

"Leave me alone-"

"(Y/n), wait!" he said quickly. "Please, don't hang up the phone."

There was a short pause. "Carmy?"

"Yeah," he let out a quiet huff.

"What do you want," they asked.

"I... I got myself in a bit of trouble," he explained. "I just... I need your help."

There was another pause between them. It was longer this time. Carmy wondered if he had been just a little less focused on himself, would he have heard the building anger from (Y/n)'s end of the call?

"You have some fucking nerve, Berzatto," (Y/n) snapped. The words came out like venom, stinging as they hit Carmy's ear. "I tried to help you! I always fucking have! No fucking more! Go fuck yourself, you selfish fucking prick!"

Carmy flinched a bit when the call suddenly dropped.

His jaw clenched.

"Come on-"

"Let me try again," he cut off the cop before the sentence could be finished. "Just... Just one more call."

He watched a pitiful look cross the cop's face. That was when he realized that tears had filled his eyes. The cop didn't know him or (Y/n) or why they were so quick to hang up the phone.

Another coin was placed in Carmy's palm.

Maybe it was for the best that the cop didn't know the truth.

--

He started the yelling.

(Y/n) didn't deserve it.

They had just been pushing so much. Pushing to know his thoughts and feelings. They wanted to help him so much.

He knew that. He knew that every intention was good.

But that didn't change the boiling anger sitting in his chest. He wanted to ignore and avoid everything, and he couldn't do that with (Y/n) constantly there. With them constantly asking the right questions and perfectly explaining what he needed to hear.

His foundation may have been unsteady and broken, but it was his. He didn't want to be pushed to change it. No matter how good that may have been for him.

"Shut up!" he snapped, cutting off (Y/n)'s words completely. "Stop trying to fucking fix things for two minutes!"

"I... I wasn't trying to-"

"Don't act like you don't know what the fuck you're doing," he shouted. He didn't stop to notice how (Y/n)'s eyes changed into this mix of sadness and fear. "You always fucking do this! You try to fucking fix me and the situation and everything! Do you have any idea how irritating that shit is?"

They didn't respond to him. They just sat there with their mouth opening and closing a bit as they contemplated if they should speak or not... and what they would say if they did.

"Guess what? If you gave a shit about me, then you would be able to be with me without trying to fucking- I don't know- mold me into... whatever the fuck you want from me!"

The silence that followed felt a million times louder than Carmy's yelling. It was tense. It felt heavy and suffocating. If he hadn't been such a stubborn asshole, then maybe Carmy would have apologized to bring an end to the feeling.

And then, (Y/n) finally moved.

They shoved past him and stormed out of the room. They only stopped at the door because they had to grab their shoes and jacket.

"Running away instead of talking to me now, huh?"

"Go fuck yourself," (Y/n)'s response was quiet, spoken through gritted teeth and embarrassing tears. "I never wanted to mold you into anything. I just... I wanted you to stop hurting."

"Not your job-"

"Yeah, you're fucking right, it's not," they turned back to him. "But would you have ever fucking done anything about it on your own?"

His jaw clenched and he didn't respond.

"And I let you treat me like shit in the name of you getting better... but you never fucking worked to do anything about the shit you were dealing with!"

He almost jumped at the yelling.

Their voice went back to that quiet, angry tone, "Never fucking contact me. Forget that I fucking exist if that's what it takes for you to leave me the fuck alone. I don't care. I am done."

He didn't move to stop them as they pulled the door open.

"Go fuck yourself, Berzatto."

The last thing that Carmy heard that night was the sound of the door slamming shut.

--

Carmy's muttered a few curses to himself before slamming the phone back on the hook.

"Let's go," the cop instructed. "Before you get embarrassed anymore."

Carmy sighed and ran his hands over his face before following the cop. Neither one of them spoke until it was time for the cop to finally leave Carmy to sit in the cell in his own misery.

"For what it's worth," the cop said, "I think it was shitty that you were treated like that."

Carmy just nodded.

He didn't have the heart to respond... to tell the cop the truth...

that Carmy deserved to have his calls ignored.

--------------------

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[666writingcafe]

I'd like an order of “Look at your reflection. Look at how gorgeous you are. So fucking gorgeous when we're fucking you like this." "So pretty for us, and only for us.” Beel and Satan pretty please!

Order #3

"Look at your reflection. Look at how gorgeous you are. So fucking gorgeous when we're fucking you like this." "So pretty for us, and ONLY for us." Beel x MC x Satan

Author's Note: I'm going to be referencing this. The more I wrote, the more this turned into a mini fic, so it'll take a while to get to the juicy stuff. Also, I altered the requested line slightly to make it a little less wordy, but it's the same general message.

One

Before Project Friendship, Satan and Beelzebub weren't that close. It was the classic case of brain versus brawn, and Satan didn't think he had much in common with his brother. He certainly didn't understand why Beel would constantly stare at him. The first couple of times, he thought Beel was simply zoning out, but then it kept happening, and Satan began getting annoyed. Why was his brother looking at him like that, anyway? Did he think Satan was a freak, just like everyone else did?

Satan initially found it odd that the two of them were paired together for this little sleepover at the castle, but he decided it would be the perfect opportunity to confront Beel about his staring, because it was sure to happen at some point during their stay.

And it did, on the very first night as the two of them were getting ready for bed. Satan was reading one of the books he brought along with him when he felt eyes intently on him.

"Why do you do that?!" he snarls, snapping his book shut and nearly slamming it on the bedside table. "It's bad enough when Belphie does it, and he's a lot smaller than you are. You doing it is downright creepy." Beel mumbles something, and Satan feels more enraged.

"Oh, so you're brave enough to gawk, but not to speak? Typical air-headed jock. Is there even an actual thought in your head, or is it stuffed full of cheeseburgers and french fries?"

"And you wonder why I don't talk." Beel's bluntness paired with a sudden glare shuts Satan up. "I've wanted to develop a better relationship with you for a while, but I was afraid you'd push me away like this. After all, what do I have to offer? I'm not nearly as intelligent as some of your other friends, right? I couldn't possibly understand the intricacies of the subtexts in the books you read; I'm just an air-headed jock."

The only thing Satan can manage to reply is,

"You've been reading my books?"

"Well, not your copies. I didn't want to damage them, because I know a lot of them are really valuable. But what I could find in RAD's library, I have read, including the one you brought with you." Satan glances at the book on the nightstand.

"The Blighted Marigold? I didn't think you were into mysteries."

"The author is behind a series of books that inspired some of Levi's video games. Mercury's Demise, I believe it's called. Belphie and I played them a couple of times with him, and I found myself sucked into the game's story. I ended up binging the entire series in a month. The way he writes made me feel like I was one of the characters, and I wanted to see if he'd published anything else."

"When did you find the time? Those books are massive!" Beel shrugs.

"I made time, Satan. Isn't that something you're familiar with doing?" Beel has him there. In some ways, their schedules are similarly packed with extracurricular activities.

"Did you finish this?" Satan asks, picking up the book again.

"Yes."

"I'm about halfway through this, and I can't figure out who the killer is. Usually I can by this point in a mystery, but for some reason I'm completely stumped."

"That's because the suspects are all red herrings." Beel can tell that his brother's completely dumbfounded. "They all have motives for killing Mr. Marigold, which makes it more difficult to discern the killer. But it's not any of them. It's someone that almost fades into the background but shows up time and time again. They don't say much, but that's intentional. By remaining quiet, they can get away with the murder and have one of the loudmouths put behind bars."

"You mean..." Satan trails off, his eyes suddenly widening. "Isabella?!" Beel nods his head. "But how? Why?"

"Standard poisoning. As for the why, I don't want to spoil too much for you, so I'll just tell you this: in the first couple of chapters, there are a couple of seemingly throwaway lines, but they turn out to be the very thing the detective needed to solve the case."

"And when did you figure this out?"

"After the reading of the will and Isabella's reaction to it in the next chapter."

"But that takes place in chapters two and three!" Beel shrugs.

"Pays to observe people."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Have you ever wondered why I don't say much?"

"I just assumed you didn't have anything to offer to the conversation." Beel sighs.

"So does everyone else. Even Belphie, and he knows me better than most." He pauses. "The truth is, I spend a lot of time people-watching. I make mental notes of their behavior so that I can interact with them better."

"For example?"

"Levi rambles around people he finds cute. He used to clam up, but he realized people found that weird, so he's overcompensating by talking a mile a minute. He's lucky MC finds it endearing, because his info-dumping would annoy anyone else he was trying to pursue." Satan tilts his head.

"Now you've made me curious. What else have you picked up from us?"

"The shade of Asmo's nails matches his mood. Lighter colors mean he's generally happy, while darker colors indicate his moodiness. Lucifer will grant permission to anything you ask him after four glasses of Demonus, but five will have him crying about the war, and six will make him angry and irritable. Mammon sometimes sneaks out at night to various orphanages and entertains the kids there for a few hours. They like giving him cheaply-made fabric pins, usually shaped like stars, and he attaches them to items he rarely uses as to not damage them."

"What about me?" Beel looks directly into Satan's eyes.

"You grip the spines of your books whenever you're angry but trying not to blow up in someone's face. That's how I know to keep my distance."

~~~

Two

"Diavolo's going to drop out soon." Satan glances up from his script with a confused look on his face.

"Did he say something to you?" he asks, prompting Beel to shake his head.

"His performance isn't quite as convincing as it once was. His character is supposed to be betrothed to Lucifer's, and yet it seems as though his heart's not in it anymore."

"Maybe he's having a hard time focusing." Beel snorts in bitter amusement.

"That's an understatement." Satan sets his script down on the nightstand.

"Clearly you're seeing something that I'm not. Would you care to explain what that is?"

"The nature of the love triangle is changing. Diavolo and MC are no longer at odds with each other."

"I have noticed that," Satan replies. "MC's stay here at the castle has allowed them to form a pretty solid friendship."

"I'd say it's more than friendship at this point." Satan's eyes widen. "It's possible that MC's oblivious to this, but Diavolo's developing a pretty strong crush on them. His touch and gaze lingers on them a bit too long for it to be him simply protecting them as they're healing from their mental breakdown."

"It upsets you, doesn't it?" Beel sighs.

"I know it shouldn't."

"I didn't mean to sound judgemental, Beel. I was simply making an observation. I can tell that talking about this is making you tense up." Silence. Beel looks down at his script, but he's not reading any of the words on the page. Instead, he's hoping to zone out long enough to block out his simmering rage.

"You're doing that in front of the wrong person," Satan warns Beel. "My presence tends to shorten others' fuses. It'd be better if you simply let it out while you still have control." Another sigh as Beel sets his script down on the bed.

"I want them. For myself. I know it's silly and never going to happen given how we all feel about them, but it's something that I continue craving. There are times where it overtakes my hunger for food. I can eat and eat and eat, but there isn't a single dish that's an adequate replacement for MC. Not when I get in that kind of mood, anyway."

"There's something rather addicting about them, isn't there?"

"Yes. It's like a constant sugar rush."

"Dopamine."

"Same concept, though. The more you have it, the more you want it, which makes you have it even more. It's a vicious cycle."

"And Diavolo has a tendency to hoard things he really enjoys." Satan briefly pauses. "Like a dragon."

"Exactly. Theoretically, he could order us to stay away from MC so that he doesn't have to share them with us, and we'd be powerless to stop him." Beel looks away from Satan, suddenly feeling ashamed. "And we wonder why MC's growing more annoyed with us. We're treating them like an object and forgetting that they're capable of making their own decisions. If they want to spend more time with Diavolo, then who am I to stop them? It's not like they're exclusively tied to any of us." The two brothers sit quietly as Satan mulls over Beel's words. In a lot of ways, they mirror his own internal dialogue regarding MC.

"I have an idea," he states after a few minutes. Beel narrows his eyes.

"It better not get us in trouble. We're still in hot water for what happened last night in the kitchen."

"Don't worry, it's nothing that destructive. In fact, it won't even happen until MC's settled back in at the House. But it does require some planning. Our schedules--" Satan gestures between the two of them. "--have to line up during a time when everyone else--" His fingers quickly circle the air. "--is busy and, more importantly, out of our hair."

"Why?"

"Because we need to tell MC how we feel without worrying about someone interrupting us. It might take a while, and it may get a bit noisy."

~~~

Three

A Few Weeks After MC's Return to the House of Lamentation

MC's not entirely sure how their evening turned out this way. They were studying when they heard a knock on their bedroom door, and opening it revealed Satan and Beel on the other side. When the two brothers got settled, they began telling MC how they were feeling, and the three of them had a rather long but insightful conversation. Given its length, MC thought that Beel and Satan merely wanted to get some things off their chest before it drove them crazy.

As it turns out, they had other plans.

The second Beel had finished talking, his lips were on MC's. A moment later, Satan was nibbling on their neck. Beel had lifted MC onto his lap, and their hands were buried in his hair as he continued kissing them. The sensation of Satan's teeth was driving MC wild. They had no idea Satan was this good with his mouth, and they were already anticipating where else he could use it.

Once Satan felt like he'd left a satisfactory mark on their skin, he gently pulls on MC's earlobe with his teeth.

"Would you like us to fuck you, darling?" he purrs. "We'll take such good care of you. Just say the word."

"Please."

"Hmm?"

"Please, fuck me." Satan smiles against their neck.

"Your wish is our command."

Beel lifts MC into his arms and carries them over to their bed, carefully places them in the center. MC watches as Satan and Beel remove their shirts. Their eyes drink in the sight of the brothers' exposed skin. No matter how many times they've seen the brothers shirtless, MC can't help but marvel at their physique. While Beel is certainly more muscular and toned, Satan isn't nearly as scrawny as he might appear with clothes on.

The two of them crawl onto the bed, each settling on either side of MC. Satan gently cups their face, running his thumb along their cheek.

"You are so precious," he murmurs.

"Like a piece of candy." Beel's lips graze the side of MC's neck. "Sweeter than anything I've ever tasted."

"A sweet delicacy that's all for us." Beel's mouth captures MC's again as Satan begins undressing them.

"You're going to make such beautiful noises for us, aren't you?"

"I'll scream your names loud enough to wake the dead." The two men chuckle.

"Now that would be an interesting conversation to have with the others." Beel's kisses slowly move downwards, eventually landing on MC's chest. His tongue flicks over their nipple before his teeth graze the skin, drawing out a sharp hiss from MC.

"Be gentle," they whine.

"Don't mind me. I'm merely playing with my food." His fingers pinch their other nipple, causing MC to whimper.

"That's an understatement," Satan scoffs.

"They're so sensitive." Beel's fingers tug and twist, the motion drawing louder and louder moans from MC. "I could do this all day." Satan quietly moves closer to the pair and slides a hand down MC's pants.

"Well, well, well. Did being teased turn you on that much?" His fingers push past the waistband of MC's underwear, and he begins gently stroking their slit.

"So soft," he hums.

"Can I have a taste?" Beel pleads.

"I suppose." Satan's hands move away from MC's center, allowing Beel to finish undressing them. Once MC is nude, Beel spreads their legs wide. He leans in and takes a deep inhale, his eyes briefly closing.

"Heaven," he breathes. His tongue darts out and swipes along their folds, causing MC to shudder.

"You taste amazing," Beel purrs.

"I think I'll have a taste too." Satan's mouth lands on the side of MC's neck, kissing and biting the flesh. MC's back arches, pressing their center against Beel's face as they begin riding his tongue.

"Oh, they like that," Satan chuckles. His hand slips underneath MC's ass, and his finger lightly strokes their hole. "What do you say we give them some more pleasure?"

"Yes, please," MC whines. Satan grins.

"Well, since you asked so nicely." His mouth moves away from their skin, and MC immediately misses the feeling of his teeth on their neck. The sensation is short-lived, however, as Beel's fingers slip inside them, quickly finding their g-spot.

"I think it's only fair if you also give me a treat," Satan tells them. He sits up and removes his pants, letting them drop to the floor. That's all the instruction MC needs. Soon, they're sucking on his dick like their life depended on it.

Satan moans and his fingers thread through MC's hair, gripping it tightly.

"That's it. Let me fill your throat with my cock. You're taking me so well." As they suck him off, MC can feel Beel's fingers curling, the tips grazing their g-spot. A third finger joins the first two, and soon MC is seeing stars. The pleasure's so intense, and they can't help but buck their hips against Beel's hand.

Satan briefly glances at MC's mirror before doing a double take. Its current image, in his opinion, is nothing short of a work of art.

"Look at your reflection," he murmurs. "Look how gorgeous you are when we're fucking you like this."

"You're so pretty for us," Beel quietly adds. "And ONLY for us."

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr, @tenkobitch, @budbuddnbuddy

[dragonydreams]

Plus One - Buck/Tommy

Title: Plus One Fandom: 9-1-1 Rating: Teen Audience And Up Pairings/Characters: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Tommy Kinard, Athena Grant/Bobby Nash Additional Tags: Fluff, family dinner, coming out, Tommy Kinard POV Summary: Buck is Tommy's plus one for dinner at the Grant-Nash home. Timeline: 7x05 Word Count: 2,366 Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over these characters. I am merely borrowing them from Reamworks, Brad Falchuk Teley-Vision, Ryan Murphy Television, and 20th Television. Betas: Thank you to @medieshanachie for looking this over for me.

Read on AO3

Tommy was enjoying sitting out in the sun with Evan's hand caught between both of his when his phone rang. He still couldn't believe that he'd just agreed to be Evan's date to his sister's wedding. 

Reluctantly, he removed his hand from on top of Evan's to pull his phone from his pocket. He didn't recognize the phone number, but in his line of work he couldn't ignore a call from an unknown number.

"I should probably take this," he said as he accepted the call. "Hello?"

"Hi Tommy, it's Bobby Nash."

"Captain Nash, hi," Tommy said, meeting Evan's wide eyes across the table. Evan gave his hand a little squeeze. "What can I do for you, Sir?"

"Athena and I would like you to come to dinner at our house," Bobby said. "We barely got to talk after the rescue and we would like to thank you properly."

"I was just doing my job," Tommy deflected, not that he wasn't grateful for the invitation.

"We both know that you weren't sanctioned to come get us. You put your career on the line to come save us and I cannot say how grateful we are that you did. The least we can do is make you a home cooked meal."

"I do miss your cooking," Tommy admitted. 

"I don't know if you're seeing anyone, but feel free to bring them along, too," Bobby offered. 

Tommy turned his hand over so he could squeeze Evan's. "I have started seeing someone who I think I'd like to bring." 

Across the table, Evan pointed at his chest and mouthed, 'Me?' Tommy just nodded. 

"We look forward to meeting them," Bobby said. "How's Wednesday night?" 

"Wednesday works for me," Tommy agreed. 

"I'll text you the address. I look forward to catching up," Bobby said.

"I'll see you then," Tommy said. He met Evan's eyes. "Want to go to dinner at Captain Nash's with me on Wednesday as my date?"

"You want me to be your date for dinner with Bobby and Athena?" 

"Only if you're comfortable with it," Tommy said. 

"Well, he'd find out about us at the wedding anyway," Evan said. "I like the idea of him knowing about us before then. He is kinda like my work dad."

"That's not really a thing," Tommy said, laughing. "I can't believe how much of a family the 118 became after I left."

"Hey, if you hadn't left when you did, I could have ended up at some other station." Evan shuddered dramatically. 

Tommy blinked. "I hadn't done that math. You were my replacement."

"You left some pretty big shoes to fill," Evan said. 

"How old are you?" Tommy hesitantly asked.

"I'm thirty-four," Evan said. 

"Ten years, that's not so bad," Tommy mused aloud.

"If it makes you feel any better, you wouldn't be the first person I've dated who is older than me. Abby was like twenty years older than me when we dated," Evan admitted.

"You have some kind of May/December fetish I should be aware of?" Tommy teased.

"N-No," Evan spluttered. "This would only be the second time I dated someone that much older than me. Not that you're old."

"I'm kidding, Evan," Tommy said. He wondered why Evan seemed to melt a bit every time he said his name. He'd need to remember to ask him about that sometime.

"Besides, there is something to being with someone more mature, with more life experience," Evan said. 

"Especially for someone who only recently discovered they were into men?" Tommy asked, knowingly. 

"Yeah," Evan said, blushing. 

"So, what kind of wine should I bring to this dinner?" Tommy asked, looking to get back onto safer ground. 

"Red wine for Athena and something non-alcoholic for Bobby," Evan said. 

"He's sober?" Tommy asked. "That certainly explains some things."

"Not my story to tell, but yeah," Evan confirmed. 

"Do you have a wine preference?" Tommy asked. "I'm not all that picky," Evan said. "Depends on my mood."

"Good to know," Tommy said. He took another sip of his terrible coffee and grimaced. "First, I'm going to get some real coffee and then head to the liquor store. Care to join me?"

"Y-you want me to come with you?" Evan asked, clearly surprised.

"Unless you have plans?"

"No, my day is wide open," Evan said, enthusiastically.

"Great, let's go," Tommy said. 

~~*~~

On Wednesday night, Tommy picked Evan up before heading to the Grant-Nash home. He and Evan had a mild debate about who should drive since Evan had been to the house many times before, but Tommy wanted to woo Evan. Even if just a little.

Evan was fidgeting beside him as Tommy rang the doorbell.

"Second thoughts?" he asked, resting a hand on Evan's back.

Evan steeled himself and grinned at Tommy. "Not a one."

The door swung open to reveal both Bobby and Athena. Tommy registered their surprise at seeing Evan with him. 

"Buck, what are you doing here?" Bobby asked.

"I-I'm Tommy's plus one," he stuttered. 

Athena recovered first and stepped around Bobby to loop her arm through Tommy's and pull him inside. "That is wonderful news. I can't wait to hear all about how you two got together."

As they walked down a short flight of stairs, Tommy saw Bobby pull Evan into a hug and say so softly that Tommy almost couldn't hear it, "I'm happy for you."

"This is for you," Tommy said, presenting the wine to Athena. "Thank you for having us over."

"It is our pleasure," she said. "Especially if we are getting the good gossip before everyone else." She winked at him. 

"I'm afraid Eddie's got you beat, in that case," Evan said as he and Bobby joined them. "He interrupted our first date."

"He does know how to keep a secret," Bobby said. "We didn't even know about Christopher for the first few weeks he was with us."

"He seems like a really great kid," Tommy said. 

"You've met him?" Bobby asked in surprise. "I thought you were dating Buck."

"I am, but Eddie and I have become pretty good friends since the rescue, too," Tommy said. "I've hung out at his place to watch some fights."

"Tommy flew the two of them to Vegas to see some fight a couple of weeks ago," Buck added. 

"You sure you're not dating both of them?" Athena teased.

"Oh, I'm sure; Eddie turned me down when I asked for a date, but said he wanted to be friends."

"Wait, you asked Eddie on a date?" Evan asked in surprise.

"I'm going to finish getting dinner on the table. Is that for tonight?" Bobby asked, gesturing to the bottle of sparkling grape juice in Evan's hand. He held it out for Bobby without looking away from Tommy.

"I'll go pour the wine," Athena said. "We're going to need it."

"Did you kiss him, too?" Evan demanded in a whisper, pulling Tommy to the far side of the room.

"No, it was nothing like that," Tommy insisted. "On the way back from Vegas I asked if I could take him on a proper date and Eddie said that he was flattered, but he had a girlfriend. I was surprised because it was the first time he'd mentioned her. Apparently she'd been babysitting Christopher while we were at the fight."

"So, am I like some kind of consolation prize?" Evan asked, his voice trembling.

"No, never," Tommy grasped Evan's face between both his hands. "I didn't know you were an option until I went to your loft that night. And when you said you'd been trying to get my attention all week, I realized I didn't want to miss my chance with you."

He kissed Evan then, a soft chaste kiss since they were at someone else's home, but one filled with promise.

Evan looked dazed when he released him, just like after their first kiss. Tommy could get used to putting that look on Evan's face.

"Now let's go eat, I'm starving," Tommy said, grabbing Evan's hand and pulling him towards the kitchen. "It smells amazing in here."

"You guys all good?" Athena asked, an eyebrow raised. 

"Yeah, we're good," Evan said, that dopey grin still on his face. 

"Coming through," Bobby said, setting a large pan of lasagna on the trivets on the table. 

Tommy inhaled deeply and sighed. "Man, I've missed your cooking."

"I'll have to make you my version sometime," Evan said as they sat. "Bobby's been teaching me how to cook and I think I've got this one down. Eddie and Christopher like it, at least."

"You've got the chili down, too," Bobby said, "now that you know the secret ingredient."

"He told you his secret chili ingredient?" Athena asked, surprised. "I don't even know that."

Evan puffed out his chest. "Yeah, I pestered it out of him."

Bobby served up the lasagna, the salad and garlic bread were passed around, and they took a few minutes to enjoy their food. 

"Bobby, you have only become a better chef," Tommy said. "When you retire you should definitely open a restaurant."

Bobby laughed. "Thank you for the compliment but that is a stress I do not want in my retirement. I much prefer cooking for family and friends."

"The 118 really has become a family, hasn't it?" Tommy asked, somewhat wistfully. "I could see it heading that way when I left, but leaving was still the right move for me."

"You seem happy at Harbor," Bobby said. "I've heard nothing but good things from your captain."

"You checkin' up on me?" Tommy teased.

"Maybe from time to time," Bobby admitted. "You seem much freer since your time with us."

Tommy glanced over at Evan. "Yeah, when I started at the 217 I did it as an out gay man. Took a page from Wilson's book and made it clear that this is who I am."

"I heard a lot of stories about Captain Gerard when I started and I know what it was like under him. I understand why you didn't feel comfortable sharing that part of yourself. I'm glad you found somewhere that you can be you." 

"Yeah, Gerard was the worst kind of old school misogynist. I saw what Han and Wilson went through when they started and out of self preservation didn't want to have him treat me that way, too. It was cowardly, but it was also survival."

Evan reached over to squeeze his thigh under the table. 

"I am a bit surprised you didn't tell us about yourself, Buck," Athena said. "You seem to share so much of yourself with everyone that this caught us a bit by surprise."

"I, um, didn't actually know this about myself until recently," Evan said, meeting Tommy's eyes. "Not until Tommy kissed me."

Tommy wondered about the look that Bobby and Athena shared and wondered if it had something to do with Evan and Eddie's close friendship. 

"Well, I'm -"

"We're," Athena cut in. 

"We're very happy for you both. I'm guessing you haven't told the rest of the team, aside from Eddie?"

"That's correct," Evan said. "Well, Maddie knows. Pretty sure she hasn't told Chimney since he isn't bouncing off the walls trying to keep a secret."

"But they'll know soon, as I'll be Evan's date for his sister's wedding," Tommy finished.

"Now that's one way to come out," Athena said. "You sure you want to do that with your parents there?"

"I'm done trying to get their approval. We're never going to be close. If they can't accept that I'm dating a man now, that's on them."

Tommy could sense that there was a lot of bad blood there, but now was not the time to ask. He wondered if this had anything to do with why everyone called him Buck instead of by his name and wondered if he should be doing that too. But Evan hadn't asked him not to call him Evan; in fact, he seemed to like it. Tommy made a note to ask about that later.

"That's very mature of you," Athena said.

"What can I say, the therapy actually helped."

The rest of dinner progressed easily. Athena told them about Bobby's heroics after the ship capsized and his acrobatics to get Norman safely lowered to the new floor of the ship. 

Tommy told them about some of his more interesting rescues, although saving Bobby and Athena would be at the top of his list for a long time when telling stories to other people. 

When it was time to go, Bobby packaged up the leftover lasagna for Tommy to take home with him. Evan pouted about Tommy getting all of the leftovers and Bobby promised to make it at the station soon.

On the drive back to Evan's loft, Tommy asked, "Would you prefer if I call you Buck?" Evan turned to look at him. "It's just, I know that's what everyone else calls you."

"I-I kinda like that you don't call me what everyone else does," Evan admitted. "I always felt like such a disappointment as Evan, so when there were two other Evans in my class at the fire academy I started having people call me Buck. Buck wasn't a screw up. Buck was a firefighter who could get things done. Someone who mattered."

"You matter regardless of what you're called," Tommy interrupted. 

Evan reached out to clasp Tommy's hand on the gearshift. "I know that. And when you call me Evan, I don't feel like a disappointment. I guess you could say that you're a first step to reclaiming that name."

"So should I expect everyone else to start calling you Evan now, too?" Tommy asked.

"Unlikely," Evan said, laughing. "You've seen how no one calls Chimney 'Howie' anymore. Except for Maddie, sometimes."

"If at any point you change your mind, I will call you by whatever name you want," Tommy assured him. 

"Thank you, that means a lot," Evan answered. 

As they approached Evan's apartment building, he asked, "Do you want to come up for a nightcap?"

Tommy glanced over to see the hopeful expression on Evan's face and even though he knew he shouldn't, he found himself saying, "I'd love to."

[rose-riot-johnson]

News... I have finally decided to write about a particular character from the Dragon Ball series, which is Gohan, obviously😃👍I really figured I'd figure out on what his adulthood would be like, if either he was never with Videl or he was divorced and my motivation with doing so, is that I really wanted to find a way to write a fanfic about him without writing any fanfic ideas that will paint him in a bad light (especially if it's not my intention to do) pertaining with pairing him with the reader🤔💡As for the reader I do think the reader will have the author role or the role of someone who has ever thought of being an author💡📖✍️👩‍💻

👩‍💻📗🟠Since They're Not Going To Publish Your Story I Will Take You To Someone Who Will🟠📗👩‍💻(Gohan x Female Reader)

Genres: Comfort

You've been in a relationship with Gohan for a few years since, (up to the reader's imagination on when your relationship with him started and the situation (good or bad or both or neither) that led to you going out with him in the first place). Aside from your other income (up to reader's imagination pertaining the reader's income), you also have a passion for writing, especially with writing your own book and to find a publisher to publish your own book one day, regardless if it's paperback or digital (and/or online). With your passion for writing a book about (up to reader's imagination on what type of book the reader's working on), Gohan is excited to hear about it, considering that he does enjoy reading, especially comic books.

One day, you came home from a publisher, with tears in your eyes, as if you're worried about having a difficult time talking. Gohan noticed that you were feeling down, as he asked, "Is there something wrong, (female reader name)? And how was talking to the company that's supposed to publish the book you were working on?". You hesitated to talk at first, however you know you're hurting inside as not talking made you feel worse.

You broke down in tears, as you stated, "Today has just turned out to be a horrible day for me... The people who work inside of the company that I was going to have my book published through rejected the book I have written... They said that no one would want to read my garbage story, because they felt I shouldn't be an author due to how I written my story inside the book... They claim that this would be the worst book anyone would had ever read, said other horrible stuff about my book, then claimed no one's going to publish any of my books, claiming I should just give up being an author, while saying I suck at it to the point that I should forget about getting this book of mine or any stories, published! So, I'm just giving up!", as you started to sob. Gohan then went to hug you, with your head on his chest, as he responded, "No need to give up, hun... You just need to gather your thoughts and keep climbing... I get it wasn't a good day for you and you're under alot of stress, darling... I will let you lay down and take a nap... I'm reading your book to see why the people who are supposed to publish your book, refuse to publish your story... I will be back, precious...", before kissing your forehead, to let you lay on the bed you share with him, while he reads your story. He just knew something wasn't adding up about the publishers refusing to publish your story.

After Gohan finished reading the book you worked on, he watched you sleep, considering that he didn't want to wake you up. Once you woke up from your nap, he went on the bed to hold you, as he explained, "I finished reading your story and I wanted to makesure you wake up on your own to tell you this... Some of the things these people were saying are just uncalled for... Seems to me like these publishers are too judgemental and overly critical towards you based on how you have written your story for your book... They're far from constructive... I feel these people who refused to publish your story like to say things that are unsolicited statements... They're belittling you... Your book might need a little work... I just honestly think that your book isn't as bad, as they're making it out to be and your first book would have been an amazing book for reader's to read... I'm sure some people would read it... Tomorrow, I will take you to someone who might publish your story... It's not usually her thing to do... My dad (Goku) has told me this rumor that she might start publishing books...". "Okay, Gohan... I trust you...", you replied, while he's still holding you.

The next day, Gohan took you to Capsule Corporation to see about getting your book published here. "I thought Capsule Corporation isn't about publishing books, Gohan... I thought you were taking me to someone who might publish my story...", you commented, giving Gohan a confused look on your face. He responded, "I am, (female reader name)... This is why I took you to Capsule Corporation... And considering that Bulma is the founder of Capsule Corporation, an engineer, a scientist, and an inventor, she might actually start publishing books, according to my father... This is why I took you there, hun...".

Bulma then cheered, "Hello, Gohan and (female reader name)! What brings the both of you here?". Gohan then explained to Bulma about hearing a rumor pertaining the possibility of her possibly publishing books, as she confirmed that she is before she became curious, if there's any particular reason why he's interested to know. This was when Both you and Gohan explained a very long story about the people rejecting your story and their critical and judgemental reasons why they refused to publish your book. Bulma became mad when both you and Gohan mentioned about the name of publishing company who rejected your book.

Bulma remarked, "Oh I have heard of this publication company that you've mentioned to me about! I actually had a few incidents with those jerks before! And now they rejected your story over this!", before she vowed, "Don't worry, (female reader name)... They will be sorry for rejecting your book like that... I will see it through that your book will get published, since this is for you... I won't publish just for anyone... You're just one if those people I will publish for... I am definitely going to publish right away, since these people in the (publishing company name up to the reader's imagination), did you dirty, especially the evil boss there!", showing her devilish smile. You weren't sure how to take her devilish smile, however you were relieved that you've managed to finally find someone who's willing to publish your very first story. "See, (female reader name)? Everything is going to work out now... I knew there was someone who would publish your story...", Gohan happily said.

In the matter of days and weeks of getting your story published, you managed to get millions of copies of your published book sold. Gohan (and Bulma) celebrate your success of your published story. There are even fans and critics alike who said plenty of good things about your book and there's a critic who even said you have a bright future ahead of you, the way you gave written your story and would want to see you write more stories in the future.

As for the publishing company who rejected your story a while ago, the truth somehow came to many people, including your fans and critics to the point where the publishing company tried pleading to you about publishing the next book you make, as they admitted they were wrong for rejecting your book, considering they know about your success. Your response to the publishing company is, "You shouldn't have rejected my first book in the first place, you jerks... Since I've found someone who's willing to publish my story, you can shove it! It's a blessing in disguise that I never had you as my publisher to begin with! No thanks to you toxic people, however thanks to my boyfriend Gohan, right with my good friend Bulma, who is the founder of Capsule Corporation and also my publisher, I never gave up! You can stay where you are now, while I can keep going up without you! Good bye!". Not too long after that (publishing company name up to reader's imagination) ended up going out of business before they could even decide to file for bankruptcy.

While Bulma is still publishing your first book, while publishing more of your books after that, Gohan has also been praising on how proud he is of you for never giving up on being an author and telling the now former publishing company off. Gohan (and Bulma both) enjoy seeing you succeed in your dreams. He was definitely right to tell you don't need to give up, which was the best advice you had ever followed and listening to Gohan were also the best decisions you had ever made.

🟠👩‍💻The📗End👩‍💻🟠

I hope you enjoyed this fanfic my Tumblr Peeps😁👍Honestly aside from Trunks and Piccolo, Gohan was also 1 of the characters I was thinking about writing about 1st, however I'm very glad I did write about every character from the Dragon Ball series that I have written about and I really had fun writing all of the fanfics pertaining them, especially Gohan😃👍Character wise I honestly admire Gohan and I'm really reliving that part of me, considering that I found him very cool😁👍It really makes me happy to write a fanfic about him and I honestly wouldn't mind writing another fanfic about him, honestly😃👍 I'm just always fond of him, even since when I was a kid🟠🧸😁👍

[integra1127grimmreaper]

Isn't My Affair Anymore (Dave York)

Dave York Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Prev

Warning: Angst, mention of cheating and pending death.

Summary: After being part of Dave's team for four years, three of those years being romantically involved with him; you come to the realization that you want more, and that the relationship is over. Inspired by - Linda Davis' - He Isn't My Affair Anymore.

"Hey" Resnik nudges you in greeting as he takes a seat to you at the bar.

"Hey..." you flash him a strained smile in return.

"You ok?" Resnik frowns after immediately noticing the change in character.

"Peachy" you utter, lifting your drink in the air in mocked salute.

"You're sure 'bout that? 'Cause, you weren't at the meeting yesterday. Thought you were sick or something..."

"What meeting?" you frown at Resnik in confusion.

"The upcoming job in a few days? In Brussels?" a confused Resnik answers. "Didn't Dave fill you in?"

"Pfft, York and I aren't on speaking terms" you remark with an eyeroll, tossing the last of your drink back.

Resnik's jaw drops in disbelief at your words, "what...? But the two of you are practically joined at the hip."

You respond with a nonchalant shrug, signally the bartender for another drink.

I guess she's doing something right I seldom see him out at night Sure isn't like it used to be Why should it mean a thing to me What makes you think that I would even care He isn't my affair I haven't seen him for some time But so what is that a crime Well if I had to guess I'd say It's been twelve nights to the day I hope that isn't pity in your stare He isn't my affair

*

"Hold up..." Resnik utters out gobsmacked at the information. "He didn't seem like anything was wrong. Said you were busy with something when asked where you were and that You'd be sitting this one out."

"Typical York..." you snort against the rim of your glass, "always deflecting shit he can't handle."

"I still don't understand" Resnik shakes his head, utterly confused. "What? When? Why?"

"'Bout two weeks ago. Ghosted me" you grunt out in response.

A dumbstruck Resnik stares open-mouthed at you, "why...?"

Exhaling heavily, you place the glass down. Staring at the palms of your interlocked hands for a while, you finally speak. "I casually mentioned about possibly going on a date with someone."

Resnik's jaw dramatically drops at your words, "you didn't...?"

"Gossip Girl much...?" you snort, shaking your head. "Jesus, not sure why I always confide my secrets to you?"

"'Cause, I'm the closes thing to a best friend you'll ever have..." Resnik smugly grinned at you.

"Don't remind me of how barren my life is..." you groan out, palming your face.

Your life is anything but barren..." Resnik drawls with an eyeroll, lightly nudging you then. "What did he do after you told him?"

Shoot him sharp glare, you snort in amusement. "Only spoke one word. 'Why?'. So, I told him... that being in my thirties has made me yearn for stability, for family life. Not only that, but I'm at a stage in life that the nature of our 'side job' demands for me to get the extra cover of 'normal family woman'... you know, with whole husband and kids 'thing'."

Resnik cringingly sucks in air, "bet he wasn't too happy hearing that..."

"He just stared at me for a few seconds, then left" you reply, taking another sip of your drink.

"You seem completely unbothered by all of this..." Resnik remarks, studying you through narrowed gaze.

He isn't my affair anymore We're not that "quite the pair" we were before And yes he's still the one that I adore But he isn't my affair I didn't say I wasn't sad But then again it's not so bad Sure my heart still feels the ache But I hear his name and I don't break The pieces are so small that I don't dare And he isn't my affair

*

"Ee... it is what it is..." you nonchalantly shrug.

"Nah..." Resnik scowls, shaking his head in disapproval, "doesn't sit right with me."

"Why not?" you challenge him with an arched brow.

"You and Dave are the perfect match. You're meant to be together."

"Well, I'm at a stage in my life that I want more" you respond, "I want to become a wife and a mother, and that is never going to happen with him."

"Says who?" Resnik challenges your remark.

"Says his wife and children" you retort matter-of-factly.

Letting out a tense breath, Resnik's head drop in defeat. "Forgot about that... but may-"

"Doesn't matter" you cut him off. "The affairs of Dave York have nothing to do me anymore."

"But..."

"Drop it Resnik" you shoot him a warning glare. "Besides, the only problem I have at this moment; is having to prepare for when York comes to shut me up."

"What do you mean?" Resnik frowns in confusion.

"You honestly believe that York's going to allow me to live?" you chuckle out. "It's obvious that I'm no longer part of the team, which means I'm a liability, a loose end that needs to be taken care of..."

"Dave wouldn't do that" Resnik violently shakes his head in disbelief.

You flash him a sad smile, "then you don't know him as well as you think you do."

Resnik's eyes glaze over with unshed tears as he silently stares at you in denial. Getting up, you pay the bill, tipping down to press a kiss to his forehead. "Take care of yourself, and good luck on the job."

As you move to leave, Resnik grabs hold of your arm. "I still don't believe he'd do it... but maybe if I talk to him..."

You smile at him one last time and shrug, "que sera sera..."

He isn't my affair anymore We're not that "quite the pair" we were before And yes he's still the one that I adore But he isn't my affair... 

Nxt

[katzchai]

private session for free // seo changbin x reader

pairing: seo changbin x reader contains: fluff, personal trainer seo changbin, date invitation

"okay, maybe it's not that bad." i said to myself while looking at my reflection in the glass doors.

i've moved to a new city a month ago and i've finally built up the courage to get out of the apartment after work and try a new gym. back in my hometown, i'd visit the gym once a week for the fitness class and i loved it. perfect amount of a workout and fun.

if someone would try to call me a gym rat i'd laugh in their face. do i like going to the gym? like the actual gym? hell no. i always hated the PE classes at school and i still remember all the times when the coach would scream at us because we couldn't hit the ball right or run for longer than 5 minutes without a break. it wasn't until the coach got sick in the middle of the last semester and we got a new PE teacher that i started to enjoy something gym-related.

our new teacher introduced us to fitness and she would hold one class a week. that was the only time i had fun. after graduating and starting a job i decided to try fitness in my free time and it became a part of my friday. everyone would go to clubs on fridays but me? i'd get my bag and go straight to my favourite gym in the city.

now after moving for a new job, i had to find a gym in the city that's not only close to me but also feels good - the right vibes have to be there - otherwise it's not fun at all. i did my research on maps to see where the closest gym is and i found one 5 minutes away from my apartment so after work i went home, grabbed my bag and i came here.

now, as i'm standing in front of the doors i'm thinking if i'm at the right location. everything inside looks so - black and white. no character to the place and i'm rethinking my decision to come here. but hey, momma didn't raise a quitter.

as i'm opening the doors and stepping into the gym i hear lots of very upbeat music. "okay, i can still turn around and go back home." and as i'm about to turn around a lady behind the desk pops up. 

"hey! welcome to hitshOt, the only gym in the city where nobody judges you. is it your first time here?"

"yes, hello. i was thinking about signing up for the gym membership."

"awesome!" the girl behind the desk has a name tag and while i'm coming up to the desk i read that her name is dabin. "we don't offer any free trials but we offer the best equipment and the best personal trainers so i'm sure you'll find something for yourself here."

"oh actually, do you offer any fitness classes? i'm not interested in the typical "macho" stuff. i prefer something more... fun."

"i'm so sorry but we don't. we're in the process of firing more staff and maybe one day. but hey, you can go in and take a look around and if you decide to stay you can pay me once you'll be going out." am i disappointed? yes. this is the closest gym to me and the ratings were high but if there's no fitness this is not a place for me.

"well... i'm sure the gym is amazing but no thank you. i'm not interested. to be honest with you Dabin i hate working out in a gym because it seems like everyone is waiting for you to fail. i'll keep an eye on your website to see if there are any fitness classes in the future though."

as i'm picking my bag from the floor i can hear a strong voice behind me. "who said that the gym is only for the typical "macho" stuff? i'm pretty sure you can do anything in there and have fun." i turn around and see a very muscular guy who is definitely at the gym almost 24/7 - i mean who has arms like that and doesn't go to the gym? "do you think that maybe you could give the gym a chance with me?"

"and who are you?"

"changbin. i'm a personal trainer here and before you say anything - i'm willing to get you on a private session with me for free. i've got time since the person who was scheduled didn't show up and i can show you around and maybe you'll decide to stay with us."

"and what if i don't want to try out the gym with you?"

"i can take you out for a coffee and convince you that working out can be just as fun as fitness."

shocked i start to wonder why this guy is so keen on getting some one-on-one time with me. i won't lie he is handsome and i'm all for the meet-cutes but something seems fishy.

"i can see you haven't decided yet, so i'll be in the cafe next door," he says and walks up to me. when he stands next to me he whispers "the coffee and the private session will be on me, beautiful. no matter what time."

and what do i do? i say bye to dabin and walk out of the gym and head to the cafe. you never say no to a free coffee. and a private session with a "macho" like that.