#Spending that a second time would be irresponsible

[selvepnea]

Kinda sad I missed the final fest

[yanmuffins]

waiter! waiter! more phineas and ferb reader pls!

I wonder how the batfam would react once they catch reader inventions on a random tuesday, like, "hm, what a nice day to look out on the window and HOLY SHIT WHY IS THERE A GIANT ROBOT SPITING FIRE WHILE RIDING A ROLLERCOASTER IN MY BACKYARD???"

the events that would follow this incident would be funny and exasperating, me thinks

also, wouldn't it be funnier if Perry the Platypus was part of the JL? and like, no one knows his identity but Superman, and neither of them are willing to talk about it-

I know it would be very unlikely, since everyone there would have enough neurons to recognize a platypus with and without a hat, but for the sake of shit and giggles, just think of how funny that would be

welp, I needed to get that outta ma chest, I hope I at least made you laugh a little, because seriously this is one of the best ideas I've seen in this tag and I can't stop thinking and giggling about it

Stay well!

context.

first: i was not expecting this concept to be so popular!! the responses i've gotten from everyone are so amazing!!  ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝) thank you for the ask, anon!! it always makes my day.

i am formally announcing that i will be turning phineas and ferb reader into a fic now. it's too good a concept to pass up. something more light-hearted to work between the other fics i'm writing.

batfamily finding out about reader's whacky inventions would be an event. it so wholeheartedly shatters the image they had of reader to the point they just have to sit with what the hell just happened for a while before they even consider what to do about you next. still so many things that don't make sense. their newest case is how the fuck did we go this long without finding out (Y/N) has been building mechas in our backyard and why are those things always gone when it's convenient.

then the realizations just start dropping on them like an anvil on a looney tunes character. and they kinda feel like shit, cause how did they not notice? really puts into perspective how they've neglected you all this time. so many stunts you pulled right under their nose, on their backyard, their garage, throughout gotham and metropolis. ok, were out there being creative and amazing and you sure know how to spend the wayne family money, they'll give you that, but it was so irresponsible of you! who knows what could've gone wrong. you're not like them! you're a civilian with no training, the only regular teenager in the family, you're the last person who should be exposing themselves doing all that.

bruce goes off on you, screaming about how could you be so reckless, you did all of this behind his back– what? what do you mean he gave his permission? and he is floored, devastated, blood pressure up, when you remind him of every instance you dropped by his office with a document for him to sign or to ask for permission, with proof as you pull out every paper he put his signature without a second look.

and that, ladies and gentlemen, is when reader's dynamic with the batfam does a complete 180 and their little yandere antennae start going off. no more whacky cartoonish shenanigans. at least not without proper supervision. they know you're not a fan of this new arrangement, but you gotta understand they let you go unchecked for way too long! they'll drown you in family activities so you don't even have to worry about it. who wants to build a teleportation machine, anyway? just join them for family movie night.

as for perry, that is going to take them a while longer to figure out. bruce just can't stand another insane discovery, so when batman sees an intelligent platypus wearing a fedora and walking on two feet on justice league headquarters (if we're going by the idea that he's a part of JL), he's just going to think "my kid has a pet platypus. huh."

oh, consider:

dick: "damian, you knew all this time?! our sibling could've gotten into serious trouble! why didn't you tell us about this?"

damian: stares into the camera like he's in the office.

[lostfracturess]

not so haunted house — satoru gojo

pairing — professor gojo x female reader

summary — satoru's on a mission to get you into the halloween spirit, and he won't take no for an answer. he's taken you to the town's spooky festival, and plying you with every sugary treat and pumpkin spiced sugary drink he can find. but you draw the line with the haunted house. but knowing satoru, he'll find a way to make it happen.

word count — 4.6 k

warnings — 18+ ONLY. contains explicit sexual content, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, friends), penetration, public setting, chance of getting caught, oral (male receiving), satoru gojo is always his own warning.

author's note — hey lovelies, i hope you all have the best time this autumn. and to get even more into the spooky spirit, i wrote a little oneshot sidestory for symptoms and causes couple. but you can read it as a standalone without knowing the main story. and for everyone who reads s&c, this happens sometime after chapter 16 (i guess). happy reading and a spooky time <3

series masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

"I don't wanna go," you said.

"Aw, come on! It'll be fun!" Satoru insisted.

"I doubt it."

"You're so lame sometimes, you know that?" 

"And you're irresponsible. We can't just ditch work to—"

"Already handled it," he interrupted, taking a big bite of his cinnamon roll.

"Handled what?"

"Cell migration, documentation, report's done, and I even got a head start on the paper. You might wanna give it a once-over later, though."

"Wait, what?" You stopped dead in my tracks, surprise momentarily eclipsing your exhaustion.

"You're the better writer when it comes to this scientific stuff."

"No, I mean—"

Satoru suddenly stopped too, turning to face you. He grinned, a big bright smile from ear to ear. He was hell-bent on getting you into the Halloween spirit, and you reluctantly agreed to go to the Autumn Festival with him, indulging in cinnamon rolls and pumpkin spice lattes.

Every second, he shoved a new treat into your hands. Try this, try that. Pretty sure you were on the fast track to diabetes after this afternoon.

But you'd drawn the line at the haunted house.

You starred at him as the flickering pumpkin lanterns that lined the path of the crowded streets cast soft shadows across his features, making him even more handsome, as if the night itself conspired to make him even more captivating.

"You finished all that already?" you asked, a hint of disbelief in your voice.

"Yeah," he said, taking another bite of his cinnamon roll. "I wanted us to have some fun in between all the lab work."

You stared at him for a second longer, the bustling activity around you fading into the background. Your heart melted a little as his signature grin lit up his pretty features.

Seeing him so carefree and childlike was new, like he was genuinely loving every second of this—the cheesy traditions, the sea of orange, the cinnamon scent that hung heavy in the air. Like for the first time in forever, the weight of his past had lifted from his broad shoulders.

"This must have taken your hours," you said, still not quite getting over how much effort he must've put in.

"Eh, a few hours here and there." He sauntered closer, peering at you over the sunglasses he wore with a baseball cap to keep a low profile. Getting caught out with your professor would've been all kinds of scandalous, after all. "Totally worth it if it means I can spend more time with you."

"We're together all the time."

"I meant outside the lab," he clarified.

"Satoru, we live together."

"Yeah, where all we talk about is work, biochemicals, brains, and how much plastic surgery Naoya would need to be pretty again."

"Don't tell me you don't love that topic," you said dryly, as a chill autumn wind rustled the leaves at your feet.

He tilted his head, his large hand coming up to cup your cheek, his warmth seeping into you. He looked at you with those soft, mesmerizing eyes, making it impossible to deny him anything.

"Okay," you finally relented with a sigh. "Let's go to that haunted house. But just so you know," you added, "I don't scare easy."

He just smiled, smug as ever. "Oh, we'll see about that."

Moments later, you were at the haunted house, Satoru's arm draped casually around your waist. He already had tickets for the two of you, like he just knew you'd give in. Smug bastard indeed. You stepped into the creaky foyer, seemingly one of the only few people there.

The air was thick with the scent of dust and decay, and an eerie silence hung heavy in the dimly lit corridors. Satoru reached for your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours.

"Don't worry," he said. "I'll protect you."

You let go of his hand. "I don't need protection," you said before taking the lead and striding into the first room.

The first few rooms were predictably eerie, with cobwebs draped across worn furniture and ghostly figures lurking in the shadows. Flickering candlelight cast long shadows on the walls, creating an illusion of movement in the stillness.

"Not even a little bit scared?" Satoru asked.

"Nope," you replied, popping the 'p' for emphasis.

"You're really killing the fun here, you know." 

He made his way around a corner, and suddenly, a black figure sprang forward, catching him off guard. Satoru jumped slightly, his heart pounding in his chest. "Ah, fuck," he said, trying to regain his composure. "Stupid thing." He pushed the figure aside with his arm and went into the next room.

"Oh, I'm having fun," you said with a smile.

"Don't laugh.”

As you ventured deeper into the house, the scares became more elaborate, the atmosphere more oppressive. The air grew colder, and a sense of unease settled in the pit of your stomach. Maybe it was a little bit scary after all.

Then, a blood-curdling scream echoed from the room ahead, and you and Satoru whipped around, but nothing was to be seen.

"You know, I was hoping for something different when I had the idea to come here.”

"And what kind were you hoping for?" you asked, pushing the spiderwebs out of your way with disgust, the silky strands clinging to your fingers.

"The kind where you cling to me and scream at every little thing," he said, following your lead.

"Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" 

He grinned. "Well, I can't deny that would be enjoyable."

The next room was pitch black, the only sound the distant dripping of something liquid. Your heartbeat quickened as you stepped forward, the darkness seeming to swallow you whole. Suddenly, a cold hand grabbed your ankle, and you let out an involuntary yelp, jumping closer to Satoru.

Satoru quickly pulled you close, his strong arm wrapping around your waist as he steadied you. "Not scared, huh?" His voice was a deep rumble in his chest, and you could feel the vibrations against your back.

You pulled away from him. "Shut up. I'm not scared. Just... startled."

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Mhm, sure. Whatever you say, love."

"Let's just keep going," you said, marching forward into the darkness.

But Satoru wasn't about to let you off that easily. He caught up to you in a few long strides, his hand finding yours in the darkness. "You know," he said, "if you need me to hold your hand, all you have to do is ask."

You scoffed, but didn't pull away. "I think I can manage."

"Oh, I'm sure you can. But where's the fun in that?"

Satoru suddenly tugged on your wrist, pulling you flush against his chest. Before you could react, his soft lips were on yours, insistent and demanding. 

For a moment, you stood frozen, your mind reeling from the unexpected turn. But as his lips moved against yours, his tongue teasing the seam of your mouth, you found yourself melting into his embrace, your body molding to his like it was made to fit there.

Your hands slid up his chest, feeling the firm planes of his pecs beneath his shirt, before pushing his baseball cap off his head, letting it fall to the ground forgotten. 

His silky, white hair fell down into his forehead, the soft strands brushing against your skin as you tangled your fingers in his locks, deepening the kiss. He groaned against your mouth, the sound sending heat straight to your core, igniting a fire in your veins that only he could quench.

His arms tightened around your waist, pressing your body impossibly closer to his. The haunted house faded away, the eerie sounds and spooky decorations forgotten as you lost yourself in the feel of him.

His tongue delved into your mouth, exploring, tasting, with a skill that never failed to leave you weak in the knees. His large hands roamed over your back, leaving trails of fire in their wake, even through the fabric of your sweater.

"You know," he said between heated kisses, his voice a low rumble that you felt in your bones, "I kinda like this side of you."

"What side?" you asked, breathless.

"The side that is scared, the side that needs me.”

"Because you need to be needed?"

"Needed by you, yes," he said, his blue eyes dark, before he walked you backwards until your back hit the wall, his body pinning you in place. “Always by you. Only by you.”

His lips left yours, trailing hot, wet kisses along your jaw, down the column of your neck. You tilted your head back, giving him better access.

"Satoru," you breathed, your fingers tightening in his hair.

"What happened to being able to manage on your own, hmm?"

You tugged on his hair, bringing his lips back to yours. "Shut up and kiss me."

"With pleasure," he murmured, before capturing your lips once more in a searing kiss that stole the breath from your lungs.

You lost track of time as you kissed, your bodies intertwined, hands exploring, breaths mingling. It was only when a particularly loud and high scream echoed through the haunted house that you broke slightly apart, chests heaving.

"We should...probably get out of here," Satoru said, his voice rough, his gaze fixed on your lips.

"Why leave?"

His lips twitched into a smirk. "Yeah, why indeed."

Satoru took your hand, his long fingers intertwining with yours as he pulled you down a darkened hallway, away from the main path of the haunted house. 

He tried a few doorknobs until one finally gave way. Peeking inside, he tugged you into what appeared to be a dimly lit storage room, filled with discarded props, old furniture, and cobwebs that looked a little too real for comfort.

As soon as the door closed behind you, he had you pressed up against it, his hard body pinning you in place as his lips found yours again. Your hands roamed over his muscular back, feeling the ripple of his muscles beneath as the kiss deepened, your puls racing.

In one smooth motion, he hoisted you up, his large hands gripping your thighs as you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. He carried you further into the room, never breaking the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours.

Distantly, you registered a lone flashing red light in the corner, what seemed to be a security camera. Satoru noticed it too. 

Tearing his lips away from yours with a muttered curse, he set you down gently, your body sliding against his in a way that made you both shudder.

He strode over to the device. With a sharp tug, he disabled the camera and tossed it aside carelessly, before turning back to you with a heated look that made your core clench with need.

His hands found your waist once more, pulling you flush against him. His lips crushed on yours, the kiss hungry, desperate, all tongues and teeth. 

Your hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, needing to feel his skin against yours. Satoru shrugged out of the fabric impatiently, tossing it aside without a second thought before his hands slipped beneath your sweater. His thumb brushed over your nipple through the thin lace of your bra.

You arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips. Your hands found his belt buckle, undoing it with deft fingers before popping the button of his pants and sliding down the zipper.

You could see the outline of his hard, thick cock straining against the fabric of his boxers, begging to be freed. 

Sinking to your knees, the hard floor cold against your skin, you looked up at him through your lashes. His breath hitched as he realized what you were about to do. 

Your fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down slowly, teasingly. Satoru's cock sprang free, hard and thick and perfect.

You wrapped your hand around the base, giving him a few slow, deliberate strokes as you maintained eye contact, watching as his blue eyes darkened.

Satoru's head fell back, a guttural groan rumbling in his broad chest, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Fuck, your hand feels so good," he panted, his fingers threading into your hair, gripping just tight enough.

You leaned forward, your tongue darting out to lick the bead of precum from his tip, the salty-sweet taste of him on your tongue.

Satoru hissed, his hips moved forward slightly, needing more. You wrapped your lips around him, taking him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his shaft as you savored the feel of him heavy against your tongue.

"Fuck, yes, just like that," Satoru praised, his grip on your hair tightening as you began to move your head, taking him deeper with each pass until the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat.

You hollowed your cheeks, sucking hard as you worked him with your tongue, tracing the thick vein on the underside of his shaft. 

Satoru's moans filled the room, echoing off the walls, his hips rocking forward to meet your mouth, fucking your face with shallow thrusts.

"God, you take me so good, love," he groaned, his words dissolving into a low, drawn-out moan as you took him particularly deep. "Fu—Fuck.” He fell forward slightly, bracing his hands on the wall behind you.

You sucked him harder, your hand working what you couldn't fit in your mouth, twisting and stroking in time with your tongue. 

Satoru's breaths were coming in short, sharp pants now, his thighs tensing under your free hand. You could tell he was close, his cock twitching against your tongue, the taste of his precum becoming more intense.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum.” His deep voice strained and rough. "You're gonna make me fucking cum."

But just as you were sure he was about to come, Satoru's hand tightened in your hair, pulling you off him. You looked up, confusion in your eyes as you met his heated gaze.

"What's wrong?" you asked. "Was it not good?"

Satoru shook his head, a strained, breathy laugh escaping him. "Fuck, no, it was perfect. Too fucking perfect. I just..." He paused, his chest heaving as he tried to regain control. "I can't come like this. Not this time." 

He cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your slick lower lip. "I need to cum inside you. Need to feel you around me."

A shiver ran down your spine at his words, need pooling hot and heavy in your belly. Slowly, maintaining eye contact, you ran your tongue along the underside of his cock, flicking over the sensitive head. Satoru hissed again.

"And not like this?" you purred, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his weeping tip, your tongue swirling along the slit.

"Fucking tease.” His large hand fisted in your hair, dragging the head of his cock along your tongue, shuddering at the sensation, before reluctantly pulling away. "Why you gotta make this so hard for me, huh?"

He helped you to your feet, spinning you around and pressing you against the wall in one swift motion. His hands roamed your body, sliding over your waist, your hips, before swiftly undoing your pants and shoving them down.

Satoru’s large hand roaming over your ass, the other sliding between your legs, his long fingers pushing your underwear to the side and brushing against your dripping core. 

He pressed against your swollen clit, making you cry out and arch your hips back into him. "I can't fucking wait anymore,” he said.

His hands then gripped your hips, turning you to face the wall. You braced your hands against the cool surface, biting your lip. You felt the thick head of his cock nudging at your entrance, teasing you.

With one smooth, hard thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, stretching you just right, drawing moans from both of you. "Oh, fuck," you gasped, your nails scrabbling at the wall as you adjusted to the sudden fullness.

"My god, why do you always feel so fucking good," Satoru panted, his forehead resting against your shoulder, his hot breath fanning over your neck as he gave you a moment to adjust. "So tight, so fucking perfect. Like you were made for me."

"Move, Satoru," you breathed, very well aware that you were literally in the storage room of a haunted house and could get caught any second. "Fucking move."

"You're really not gonna let me enjoy this haunted house, are you?"

"Do you want to get caught with your pants down or what?"

"Then you'd better be quiet, love," he said. "Or I might just have to gag you with my fingers."

"You're impossible," you groaned, pushing your hips back against him, desperate for friction. "Just fucking move already."

Satoru didn't need to be told twice. He set a hard, deep pace, his hips snapping against yours, the sound of skin on skin echoing in the small room. 

One hand gripped your hip hard enough to leave bruises, while the other worked your clit, driving you closer to the edge with each skilled touch, each deep stroke of his perfect cock inside you.

You could feel your orgasm building, coiling tight in your lower belly. "Satoru, I'm close," you gasped, your nails scratching against the wall as you tried to find purchase. "Fuck, Satoru."

"Not yet, love." 

Quickly, Satoru's hand closed around your hip, spinning you around and lifting you up effortlessly like you weighed nothing. You clung to him, breathless and dizzy as he walked you over to a nearby table, sweeping aside the dusty props and cobweb-covered decorations littering its surface. 

He sat you down on the edge, your legs automatically wrapping around his trim waist to pull him closer, desperate to have him inside you again.

Satoru's warm hands slid up your thighs, over your hips, coming to rest on your waist as he leaned in to kiss your neck. "God, you're so fucking beautiful," he breathed, his lips brushing your skin. "Did I tell you how lucky I am to have you?"

"Satoru, we're literally fucking in a haunted house, maybe save the love confession for later?"

"You really are no fun during spooky season," Satoru groaned, his cock twitching against your thigh, leaving a trail of precum on your skin. He reached between your bodies, lining himself up with your entrance before thrusting forward, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth, deep stroke.

You threw your head back, a moan escaping your lips at the maddening feeling of him filling you so completely. Satoru set a steady pace, his hips rolling against yours, the new angle allowing him to hit that spot inside you that made you feel like you were flying and falling all at once.

"Fuck, you feel so good around my cock," Satoru panted, his forehead resting against yours as he moved, his breath mingling with yours.

Your nails raked down his back, urging him on, wanting him deeper, harder, faster, consequences be damned. Satoru obliged, his thrusts becoming more forceful, more urgent, the rickety table creaking beneath you with each powerful surge of his hips.

"Touch yourself," Satoru growled, his voice strained. "I wanna feel you come around my cock."

You did as he said, your hand lowering between your bodies to find your clit, your hips bucking up to meet Satoru's thrusts as you chased your release.

"That's it, love," Satoru encouraged, his eyes dark as he watched you. "Just like that. Fuck, you're so hot when you touch yourself."

His thrusts became more frenzied.The table creaked and groaned beneath you, threatening to collapse at any moment, but you didn't care. You were too far gone.

Your fingers moved faster, more urgently, as you felt your orgasm building. Satoru's eyes never left yours, his gaze burning with a fierce intensity as he watched you. His lips were parted, his chest heaving, and his forhead was slick with sweat.

Suddenly, your body convulsed, your muscles contracting around Satoru's cock as you came. His eyes squeezed shut, hissing through his teeth as he felt your muscles clamp down around him.

"Ah, fuck," he moaned. "What are you doing to me?" His body tensed, his muscles straining as he fought to hold on, to keep going, to make it last. But it was too late. 

He thrust once, twice, and then he was coming, his cock pulsing inside you as he emptied himself, filling you with warm sticky cum. As the last of his cum dripped out of him, his body relaxed, his chest heaving with exertion. 

His forehead dropped to yours, his eyes closed in bliss as he savored the aftermath. "Fuck," he panted, his voice barely audible. "You're going to be the death of me."

“You wanted to go to that haunted house,” you said. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as he caught his breath. 

He laughed. “Yeah, you’rer right.” His cock was still hard, still buried deep inside you, and you could feel his cum dripping out of you, a slow, sticky trickle.

He smiled, a lazy, sated smile that made your heart skip a beat. "God, I can't get enough of you." He was just about to lean in for a kiss when a sharp knock on the door startled you both. 

Your eyes widened in panic. 

"Hello?" a gruff voice called from the other side. It had to be a staff member.

"Oh, shit," you hissed, frantically grabbing for your clothes.

"I'm sorry, but this area is off-limits to guests," the voice called again, sounding more irritated.

Satoru quickly pulled his pants back on and finished buttoning his shirt, then reached for your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours as he pulled you close to his side and towards the door.

With his free hand, Satoru unlocked the door and flung it open, plastering on his most charming smile. Before you stood a grumpy middle-aged man who reeked of cigarettes and had dark circles under his eyes.

"Our bad, man," Satoru said smoothly, fishing out a few crisp yen bills from his pocket and pressing the money into the staff member's hand. "For the camera," he added with a wink.

The man looked at the bills, then back at Satoru, confusion written all over his weathered face. Without waiting for a response, Satoru dragged you out the door after him, brushing past the bewildered staff member. 

He led you quickly down the hallway, his grip on your wrist firm as he navigated through the winding passages. You didn't stop until you were outside the haunted house, the chilly night enveloping your flushed skin.

"Well, that was a close one," Satoru chuckled, running a hand through his tousled hair. "Haunted houses aren't so bad after all, huh?"

You leaned forward, hands on your knees as you tried to catch your breath, your legs still shaky. "Shut up.” You swatted at him halfheartedly.

"Wanna head back to the festival?" 

You made your way back to the festival, hand in hand, his baseball cap and sunglasses back in place. 

You strolled through the stalls, taking in the various decorations and trinkets on display. Jack-o'-lanterns grinned toothily from every corner, their flickering candles casting an fiery glow on the revelers' faces. The scent of cinnamon, roasted almonds, caramel and the earthy smell of fallen leaves wafted through the air.

Suddenly, something caught Satoru's eye and he tugged you towards it. It was a cute little stall decked out in shimmering black and orange, laden with an assortment of whimsical accessories. Pointy witch hats adorned with glittery stars, vampire fangs that glinted in the light, and masquerade masks decorated with shimmering sequins and feathers.

Satoru's eyes sparkled with childlike wonder as he rummaged through the collection, his face split in a wide grin. He plucked something from the display and held it up. "Hold still for a sec.” He tilted his head as he considered how it might look on you.

In his hands was a cute headpiece, twisted black wire interwoven with tiny, glittering bats and shimmering autumn leaves that seemed to dance in the breeze. He placed it gently on your head, his fingertips grazing your temples as he adjusted it just so.

"There," he said softly. "Absolutely beautiful."

You quirked an eyebrow at him. "Is that so?"

"Mhmm," he hummed. "In fact, it looks so good on you, I might just have to fuck you again, but with that on top this time."

As if on cue, the stall owner fumbled with a display, sending a cascade of glittery masks tumbling to the ground with a clatter. You shot Satoru a pointed look, your eyes screaming, 'See what you did?'

"Ah, sorry about that." Satoru called out to the flustered vendor, flashing her a charming smile as he pressed a generous wad of bills into her hand. "Keep the change, yeah? For the trouble."

Before the poor woman could respond, Satoru had whisked you away, his laughter ringing out like music in the crisp night air.

Moments later, you found yourself with a generous glass of spiced pumpkin wine in hand, Satoru having snagged two mugs from a nearby vendor.

With the decorative headpiece perched atop your head and the overly cute Halloween mug in your hand, you probably looked like the biggest Halloween fan around. "I'm starting to think you're actually enjoying this.”

He grinned. "Really? What gave it away?"

Just then, something caught Satoru's eye, and he came to an abrupt halt, nearly causing you to slosh your drink all over yourself. His gaze fixed on a colorful shooting gallery booth. Rows of stacked thimbles painted with witches, ghosts, and pumpkins enticed passersby to try their hand at winning a prize. 

Satoru grinned at you and before you knew it, you found yourself participating in yet another classic Halloween fun activity with him. He smirked, rolling up his sleeves with an air of confidence. "You ever played before, love?"

"Hmm," you hummed, stepping up to the counter and setting your pumpkin spice wine aside. The attendant passed you each a toy rifle, and you took your positions.You rolled your shoulders and lifted the rifle.

Satoru’s first volley of shots went wide, but he managed to hit 3 out of 5, the thimbles clattering as they toppled over. "Warm-up round," he said with a nonchalant shrug, his competitive streak already showing. 

He turned to you with his signature grin, but it quickly morphed into an open-mouthed gape as you proceeded to hit all 5 with nonchalant precision, barely even pausing between shots.

You blew imaginary smoke from the barrel of your toy gun, a smug smile playing about your lips as you reached for your forgotten wine. "You were saying?"

Satoru blinked at you, his mouth open. "Okay, remind me never to piss you off again.”

"You know I'm never letting you live this down, right?"

"Yeah, I figured as much," he said, but you could see the corner of his mouth twitching as he fought back a smile. He grabbed you around the waist, pulling you flush against him as he captured your lips in a kiss.

A pointed cough from the attendant broke you apart. "Your prize, miss?" the man prompted, gesturing to the array of plushies and plastic trinkets.

"Oh, I think I'll let the loser choose," you said airily, shooting Satoru a wink before walking away.

As the night wore on, you lost yourselves in the simple joy of each other's company, sharing laughter, playful challenges, and stolen kisses amidst the twinkling lights and paper streamers.

By the time the festival began to wind down, you were exhausted, your cheeks aching from smiling and your sides sore from laughter. Satoru pulled you close, his arm draped around your shoulders, as you made your way toward the exit and back home.

Maybe Halloween festivals weren't so bad after all.

author's note: hello again, sorry i've been quite offline these days, but i hope the short story made you smile (or whatever reaction you had to it lol). this should take place after chapter 16 but yk i haven't written that yet haha. so just imagine a happy satoru for this, after a huge burden got off his shoulders.

have a great day or night whenever you read this and and an even more great halloween and holiday season <3

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Always room for seconds (dp x dc)

"There they go again," says Aunt Alicia as she looks at the hazmat-clad backs of her sister and her husband jumping into their mish-mash-of-a-van. "And on Thanksgiving too," she finishes to herself as she turns toward her niece and nephew. Neither of them look surprised, though Jazz is clearly more affected if the tick in her jaw is any indication.

"They promised," she practically spits but Danny just sighs and puts a hand on her shoulder. It seems to draw the fight out of Jazz a bit and she sags onto herself.

Alicia loves her sister but she can be so irresponsible sometimes.

"Come on kids, let's go back inside. It's about time to put the turk-" she stops short, then groans. Maddie had insisted on bringing the turkey on account of not wanting Alicia to go to all the trouble, and Alicia had agreed on the condition that her sister wouldn't try to make it. "...And the turkey is still in the van isn't it?"

Danny makes a face. "It's probably for the best. I'm pretty sure I saw it move on the way here."

Alicia doesn't let her head fall into her hands, but only just. Instead, she takes a deep breath to calm herself down to rally her thoughts. "Alright. It'll be too late by the time we drive to town and buy a new raw one, so we can just get some already made from the store. That good for you guys?"

Jazz and Danny make sounds of assent before all three of them pile up in the car. Town isn't too far away, and the trip is mostly silent. Alicia is hesitating over what to say to cheer up her niece and nephew. In the end, they pull up to the grocery store before she manages to come up with anything.

"Dad was also supposed to bring desert," Jazz mentions as she grabs a caddie and wheels it back to them.

"I made apple pie just in case," Alicia answers. Despite her dislike for him, she can admit that Jack Fenton is a generous man. However, as she has learned over the years, that generosity doesn't extend to fudge. Which is why she's got her famous apple pie ready to pop into the oven.

Danny nods relieved, as he files in behind his sister. The three of them are rolling past the frozen section when a familiar voice cuts through the store music.

"Alicia?"

At that, Alicia looks up to see the face of one and only Martha Kent. Her lips stretch into a smile unconsciously at the sight.

"Martha, hi," she answers as the other woman starts walking closer. "How are you?"

"I'm good," the other woman says as she stops in front of them. "Just doing some last-minute shopping." Then Martha looks to Danny and Jazz and gives them a smile. "And who might these two be?"

"This is Jazz and Danny," Alicia introduces them, "my niece and nephew. They're spending Thanksgiving up at the cabin with me."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Martha says sincerely. "You left your sister and her husband in charge of the turkey, then?" She winks.

Alicia winces. "Ah, not exactly."

"They had a work emergency," Jazz says, unhappy.

Martha lets out a sympathetic oh.

"That's why we're here," Alicia explains. "They left with the turkey without realizing, so we'll have to settle for store-bought this year."

Martha makes a noise of sympathy before her face shifts into something more pensive. "You know," she starts. "I've got a big turkey at home and there's only going to be my son and me to eat it. If you guys would like, we'd love to have you over to help us with it."

"Oh we couldn't possibly-" Alicia starts to protest but Martha takes a step forward and takes her hands.

"You'd be doing us a favour," Martha says, her hands still into Alicia's as she looks up earnestly at the redhead. And damn it all because Alicia can feel a blush spreading on her cheeks at that.

"Alright," Alicia says, too flustered to argue.

Martha squeezes her hands once before letting go and Alicia can't help but miss the warmth of them. "Then it's settled."

"Alright," repeats Alicia. "We'll have to swing back home, though. I made pie."

"That's wonderful!" Martha's smile is radiant and it makes something in Alicia's chest warm.

She disguises it with a cough before speaking up. "Is six thirty too early for you?"

"It's perfect. We'll be waiting for you then," Martha says. "And for your sister and her husband too, if they manage to tear themselves away from work."

"That's not likely," mumbles Danny under his breath. Uncharacteristically, Jazz doesn't say anything about her brother's manners, only putting her own hand on his shoulder. Martha catches Alicia's eye and they exchange a look.

"Well, we'll be glad to have you three, anywho," Martha states firmly which gets her a hesitant smile from Jazz.

Alicia clears her throat. "We'd better get going if we want to be ready in time."

"Oh yes," Martha agrees. "I have to make sure the turkey's not burning." Then she winks, and for some reason, Alicia can feel that pesky blush coming back. It's made worse by the shrewd look Jazz gives her.

"See you soon!" says Martha as she leaves.

"Bye," Alicia answers back a little weakly. Then she looks down to the ground and sighs. When she straightens her head, she's immediately on guard as she catches her niece's smug look.

"What?" Alicia asks warily.

"Is Martha single?" Jazz asks, with a butter-wouldn't-melt-in-her-mouth face.

"Yeah," the older redhead answers slowly. "Why?"

"Just wanted to know," Jazz says innocently. And even Danny is looking at his sister suspiciously now. "since you've got a crush on her and all."

"I do no-I don't know what you're talking about!" Alicia protests though she feels her cheeks warming for the third time today.

And now Danny is starting to smirk too as he exchanges a look with his sister. "Oh," he starts as he looks towards Martha's disappearing figure. "This is going to be fun."

[newkatzkafe2023]

Hey, so I thought of something funny, the Wukongs (and D.O) meeting the reader as the grim reaper (specifically the wolf from Puss in Boots: The Last Wish). And while she's pissed that they decided to cheat Death (AKA her), the monkeys are ignoring that fact and are constantly trying to hit on her. And what's worse they're not afraid of her. (Cause Death loves the smell of fear.)

I LOVE PUSS IN BOOTS THE LAST WISH!!! DEATH IS MY FAVORITE CHARACTER!!🤩

(Lmk Wukong) GOD He is so annoying, he's been nothing but troublesome and irresponsible sense day one. Worse part is he was searching for immortality for his arrogant and vain self like the selfish jacka** he ended up being. Way earlier in the His centuries , he was deathly afraid of you (HA get it🤣😈) and you thrive oh his fear. What you didn't expect was for him to be so scared of you that he would find a way to escape you entirely. You tried to stop him by taking his soul early but he was a cheeky slippery like sh*t, at the end of it all he became immortal meaning he's no longer scared of you at all. This made your blood boil and you stormed off away from him leaving him be for years but the thing is he now spends his immortality trying to woo you and win you over. This might be a good time to get this thing called a Restraining order😑

(MKR Wukong) He's the second one you can't stand at all. His sh*tty attitude irritates you so bad of course you would go to threaten him especially when he was searching for immortality. I bet you 20 bucks too that the reason he's looking for immortality is a F*ck you to not only heaven but you as well. That caused a fued to break out and The final straw was when he became immortal, and boi did you go off at him as you both fought again. Then he somehow took you off guard and he crashed dead smack on to you lips, you freaked out of course and pushed him off but instead he pulled you closer and well with the Adrenaline and sudden move affection. He got to know you all too well, but you were able to get away from him blushing and growling at him. It was too late though because now he wants you very badly.

(NR Wukong) Oh lord, once he found out you were a woman, their would be no getting away from him. He would spemd everyday flirting with you and trying different ways to woo you. It was so annoying and inconvenient to your work, He became immortal centuries ago, and you would avoid him like a plague, but unfortunately, you knew him as a mortal Of course, you know the song and dance you would thrive on his fear of being scared of death. Unfortunately, years down the line, he found out something about you. When you both fought each other one more time, he ripped your poncho and saw a pair of breast cover Ina lace bra. Making you turn red in anger and embrassment before knocking his ass out. Hopefully, you scramble his brain to think he was hallucinating, but that clearly didn't work because, worse of the worst of all, he's trying to bed and marry you.

(HIB Wukong) Oh, you both have bumped heads, both when he was mortal and immortal centuries ago. Their was never a time when you both weren't fighting, his arrogance knew no bounds at the time, so it was fun knocking him on his ass. Then you found out about his immortality, which caused you to snap in a way that it never did before. You went to stop him from getting to immortality, and you both actively throw hands with each other during the journey to find immortality. It turns out to be all in vain at the end because Wukong got to the immortality peaches, and boy were you pissed. Cursing him in Chinese and Wukong no longer fearing you we fought for a good while until he grabbed to your boob. Shocking you both making you both blush and you yell profanities as you punched him, and that's how you got a monkey to become obsessed with you.

(Netflix Wukong) Oh man it was Hilarious bullying this joker when he was a mortal. I mean he did have your sympathy when he didn't really fit in with the other monkeys, but ever since he got that God forsaken stick He quickly became a pain in your ass. It's gets worse when you find out that he's on the path to get immortality, which was the straw that broke the Camels back. You tried to scare him out of his journey for immortality, and you would Spook him and pop out of nowhere Whistling at him. Well at the end unfortunately for you 2 things happen, 1 he finally got his immortality for himself, and 2, he found out that his bully was a female, and now he won't leave you alone. You tried to scare him away, but instead, he cuddled you close. Just great😒

(BMW Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhhh he just loves to get under your skin about his immortality😡 He's been taunting you for years with arrogance and brazen trouble making and Attitude. You would think that ass whooping you gave him as a teenager would get the point across but no If anything it motivated him to not only escape you but to one day get a rematch from you. When he did get his immortality, he did not one but seven freaking times It's like he was pissing you off on purpose and it gets even worse when he was never scared of you in the first place. You know what's worse instead of being scared, his stupid ass flirts with you you want to strangle him but you can't 😤😡🤬

(The Destined one) He doesn't actually annoy you as much as the others would. If anything he peaks your curiosity, as he wonders around on his journey it seems like he's rediscovering the world around him. Granted you hate how he got his immortality and Therefore doesn't have any reason to fear you, but he was incredibly respectful of you anyway so you didn't have any reason to decline his request for a date.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG

[nothankyoudear]

Ever since Merlin was a small child, Hunith had always bombarded him with loving touches. She carried him whenever she could, and when he grew too big to be carried, she left him with warm hugs and soft touches on his cheeks. She wiped his tears when he cried, and intertwined their fingers on cold nights as they slept.

Arthur, on the other hand, could not remember the last time he was touched by his father in any way other than a firm clasp on the shoulder. All his life, he's known nothing but side glances and firm remarks. No one was there to wipe his tears away when he cried, and certainly no one was there to hold him on cold nights as he slept.

He was the prince of Camelot, after all, and everyone knew that princes cannot be soft.

Which was why, the first time that Merlin went in for a hug, Arthur immediately flinched back.

They stood in silence for a few moments before Arthur left, unable to stand the tension in the air. Not thinking much about it, he had rendered it just another one of those awkward little moments with Merlin that would soon dissipate from his memory.

Oh, how wrong he was.

Arthur found himself unable to move on from it. He spent that night turning in his bed, wondering what it would've been like if he accepted Merlin's hug - The warmth and comfort that he had only ever seen given to others. He fell asleep wondering what it would feel like to be embraced by another.

Merlin doesn't do it again, at least not for a while. It was understandable, especially after Arthur reacted so drastically at his first attempt at closeness, but Arthur still couldn't help but spend another few sleepless nights regretting his reaction.

Because he was the prince of Camelot, and if Merlin - irresponsible, reckless, sarcastic Merlin - wasn't willing to touch him, then no one was.

So when the second time came - when Merlin, most likely without thinking ("when does he ever think?"), went in for a hug, Arthur hugged back.

He wrapped Merlin in his arms, and oh, it was bliss. The warmth and the comfort and the closeness that he had heard so much about were all real. He couldn't help but tighten his arms around the other boy's thin body and lean in, rendered helpless by a sense of aching intimacy.

Questions immediately appeared in Arthur's mind: How had he survived up until then without touches like these? If Merlin had never been assigned as his manservant, would he have gone his whole life without experiencing this? And now that he's finally experienced this, how could he go without it for the rest of his life?

The thought pained Arthur, so he squeezed even harder.

They didn't talk about it afterwards, but Arthur knew that Merlin knew. Arthur had exposed the softness underneath his hard exterior, and now Merlin knew.

And lord, was it great.

Their previously rare touches turned more and more common. Soon, putting on Armour turned into lingering touches on Arthur's body, and training sessions turned into Merlin haphazardly wiping the sweat from Arthur's forehead as he leaned into the cooling touch on his skin.

Sometimes, if Arthur was feeling brave, he’d even initiate some of these touches.

He’d hook his finger with Merlin’s as they walked to the stables, running his thumb against whatever skin he could reach. He’d warm Merlin’s seemingly forever cold hands by gently pulling them into his own bigger ones. He’d walk up silently behind Merlin as he’s softly humming a song while polishing Arthur’s armour, and wrap his arms around his waist, burying his head into the crook of Merlin’s shoulder.

It was like Arthur's mind was trying to reclaim all touches lost to the years. He craved skin - Merlin's skin - on his. He craved the way Merlin's fingers ran over his muscles. He craved these moments of intimacy where he wasn't Arthur Pendragon, the prince of Camelot, and he was just Arthur.

And somehow Merlin knew of this insatiable craving of his, because he was always giving and giving and giving. Arthur never openly asked for the tender touches and the soft trails of fingertips against his stomach, but Merlin - lovely, gorgeous, beautiful Merlin - was always there to give.

The love in Merlin was overflowing, and Arthur was there to catch every last drop of it.

And as Arthur was still human (despite how hard he tried), there were times when he wept.

Arthur cried the same way he cried when he was a child - with his shoulder shaking, his eyes shut, and his hands trembling. He also used to sob with his mouth open and with his grief audible like any other child, but that had long been scolded and beaten out of him.

However, despite the habits that he brought into adulthood, the nights when he cried were no longer like the lonely nights that he suffered through as a child - There was no ache in his chest as tears ran down his cheeks. No biting the collar of his shirt as he attempted to stay quiet. No harsh words to keep him silent.

There were, in their place, gentle caresses to his forehead as Merlin smoothed back his hair, murmuring words of comfort under his breath. A warm shoulder to lean on as he cried quietly. Thumbs that wiped under his lashes and nimble fingers that caressed his cheeks.

A voice that cooed and replied, “I'm here, darling” when Arthur whispered, “Merlin, Merlin, Merlin” through his tears. Lips that pressed against his as another sob seeped out. Arms that wrapped around Arthur, and gentle hands that ran themselves comfortingly over the expanse of his back until they both fell asleep.

And what a joy it was, to have someone who wiped his tears away when he cried, and someone to hold him on cold nights as he slept. To be touched and held and loved.

What a joy Merlin was.

[alwritey-aphrodite]

Cruel Summer

no rules in breakable heaven

Pairing: Jaime Tartt x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ - smut(f receiving oral, other implied nonsense, cursing

Word Count: 5.5k

Author’s Note: clearly I’ve gotten caught up in the babygirl wave, my lovely wife @andr0medafallen helped me immensely and I love her. Also I’m just a slutty little virgin so I can’t be held accountable for any inaccuracies

Conversations are swirling around you, music is blasting from a building down the street, you’re keenly aware of the blood pumping in your veins, and you need a goddamn break.

You loved spending time with Keeley, you really did, but it’s hot and muggy outside, and this is the fifth party you’d been to in the past week. Tonight, at least, is with the Richmond boys, and not some friend of a friend of Keeley’s where all you do is stand in the corner and drink by yourself. Keeley, ever the social butterfly, is off chatting with Rebecca and Leslie, giving you the opportunity to focus on not losing your mind.

It’s strange, to feel so simultaneously alive and asleep, and you could swear you can feel the air buzzing in your ears. You simultaneously want to go to bed and to stay awake for the rest of the night, it’s like your mind can’t figure out what it needs.

And then Jamie’s walking over to you and the world comes back into focus.

The two of you aren’t very close, connected mostly through your separate friendships with Keeley, but from what you’ve heard from her and from the internet, he seems to be turning over a new leaf. Though, there was a part of you that enjoyed his bad boy attitude, even when he was a bit of a dick.

Maybe you just had a thing for men who were emotionally unavailable.

“Want me to walk you home?” Jamie says after a few seconds of standing next to each other in silence, shocking you out of your silent appraisal of your surroundings.

“Huh?” Clearly, your brain-mouth connection is taking a while to get up to speed.

“You seem kinda out of it, I know you came with Keeley, figured I should ask if you wanted to leave.”

The kindness of his offer is a little shocking in the way it’s so purely sweet, and again, your brain seems a little slow on the draw.

“I’m alright, I can call a car in a bit,” you tell him, not wanting to drag him away from a fun night just because he saw you acting all mopey and uncomfortable.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t mind getting outta here,” and then it’s clear to you that his offer is simply an excuse for him to leave the party, and while your heart drops a little you can’t say you blame him.

“What the hell,” you respond anyway, finishing your drink before you turn to follow Jamie out of the party, stopping by Keeley to let her know you’re headed home.

The walk back to your place is mostly silent, the air hanging heavy and thick as you try to figure Jamie out. It’s clear that he’s changed from the first time you’d met him, back when he was only Keeley’s douchebag of a boyfriend, shortly before his stint on reality TV. Now, though, he seems different in some way that you can’t quite puzzle out.

“Wanna come up?” You offer, your heart and your brain in a heated argument over how awful and irresponsible of a decision that is.

“Nah, I’m alright,” he sticks his hands in his pockets and you try not to let your heart sink onto the ground with this cool-guy routine of his.

Still, you thank him for taking you home and head up to your apartment, flicking off your shoes and berating yourself for acting the way you did. Even though you’re an adult, and wanting to sleep with someone doesn’t make you a bad person, there’s a layer of guilt that hangs over your simple question, over your desires.

Maybe it’s because he’s Keeley’s ex, and even though she’s moved on and found her perfect match, girl code says you shouldn’t even look at him. Maybe it’s because as far as you know, he’s an awful person who would treat you like nothing. Or maybe it’s because he’s actually worked on himself and you’re going to self-sabotage anything good that could even possibly happen.

The guilt you taste at the back of your mouth doesn’t change the fact that you want him, though, so you throw a longing glance out your window and are surprised to see Jamie still standing on the street below. As quick as you can in your old building, you unlatch the window and push it open, sticking your head out.

“Change your mind?” You ask, a grin spreading on your face when Jamie jumps at the sound of your voice.

“That ok?” He throws back, looking a little bashful and so unfairly adorable that he makes you a little dizzy. You just nod in response, and he seems to get the message because he disappears from view and a few seconds later, there’s a knock at your door.

Briefly, you wonder if he ran up the stairs.

There’s a part of your brain that keeps screaming about how this is a bad idea, that come morning you’re going to regret this, but you do your best to ignore it as you close the door behind Jamie and press your lips to his. His hands find your waist, settling there with a firm grasp, and you hope you never need oxygen again.

It’s addicting, the way he touches you, the way he kisses you, and you do your best to ignore the alarm bells ringing in your mind that you’re never going to be able to move on from this and instead just enjoy yourself. Moving on autopilot, you find yourself at your bedroom door, and feeling lightheaded you pull away from Jamie and rest your forehead on his.

“Can I?” He breathes against your mouth, fingers grasping the bottom hem of your shirt. You nod enthusiastically, your nose brushing against his. Once your shirt is flung somewhere into the depths of your room, Jamie’s hands settle on your bare ribs.

Pushing every worry you have to the back of your brain, you follow Jamie’s lead and, with his help, pull his shirt over his head as he walks you back towards your bed. Obviously, you’d known he was fit, but seeing him so close, so open to your touch is a whole other feeling. You want to trace his entire body, his scars and bruises and tattoos, first with your hands and then with your mouth.

“This is just a one time thing, yeah?” Jamie asks as your hands settle onto his jaw, trying to bring him in for another kiss.

“Yeah, of course,” you respond, being the cool girl you know you’re meant to be even as you fantasize about hearing the stories behind his tattoos and spending mornings together.

It’s practically impossible for you to keep your hands off of him, every layer removed giving you more of his skin to explore. Jamie, though, seems just as greedy as you are, kissing and touching his way across your body. You feel alive, electric in ways you’ve never felt before. It’s as if every moment you spend with Jamie, he takes up more and more space in your brain, until he’s all you can think about.

Jamie, as he bites that sensitive spot underneath your jaw bone with a grin.

Jamie, as he trails kisses down the center of your body, from your sternum to your belly button.

Jamie, as he moves lower and lower, his hands resting on your inner thighs.

Jamie, he’s all you think about until you can’t think of anything, your mind shut off and your body rewired as you feel like you’re exploding from the inside out.

And then everything comes rushing back in, all the sounds and scents and feelings of your apartment, all the thoughts you’d tried to keep away. You still haven’t said anything, focusing on breathing and not floating away.

“You need water or something?” Jamie asks from his spot on the pillow next to you, watching as your breath continues to heave in and out of your chest.

“This is my place, shouldn’t I be asking you that?” You retort once it feels as if your heart won’t escape your chest.

“There aren’t any rules about who gets water.” You watch as a smirk grows across his face, “Besides, you look like you need it more than me.”

Trying not to give in to his teasing, you hide your face in your hands and groan, “Maybe that means you should have been trying harder.” He shrugs, conceding before he slips off your bed and begins the hunt around for his clothes. You wish you could ask him to stay, even just for a few minutes longer, but instead you shrug on a large t-shirt and walk him to the door.

“See you around,” you offer as you lean in the doorway, Jamie making his way to the stairs.

“Yeah, sure, see ya.” And then you're left all alone again, your brain running wild within your skull, so you make your way back to your bed in the hopes that you can fall asleep and pretend you aren’t regretting all of your life decisions.

The next few times you see Jamie, the two of you talk sparingly, sticking mainly to waves across the room or slightly uncomfortable smiles. And it’s a shame, because you’ve found that you actually enjoy talking to Jamie, but now you’re not so certain you can handle yourself around him.

Even though you know Jamie’s not looking for a relationship, it’s hard not to think about what you’d be like together, if you’d even work out, because in your mind, what’s the point of trying if you know you’re going to fail? Why would you enter into a relationship with someone if you know it couldn’t possibly last?

“Hey,” a voice says from behind, shocking you out of your introspection. You jump, ready to scold whoever snuck up on you when you hear Jamie’s laughter, happy and loose.

“Jesus, Jamie, you scared me to death,” you tell him as his laughter dies down, eyes scanning for anyone watching your interactions. You know that no one cares, that people have casual relationships all the time, but you can’t help but feel like you’d be judged for doing the same.

“You wanna get out of here?” He asks, and you can tell from his voice, from his eyes, from the way he’s holding himself, what he’s really asking you.

“I thought that was a one time thing?” You hide your smile by taking a sip of your drink and delighting in the way Jamie’s cheeks redden.

“What I meant was, it’s just a no-strings-attached thing.”

“I’m flattered,” you tell him, already turning to leave and planning your text to Keeley that you hadn’t felt well and called an Uber to leave early.

Instead of an Uber, though, you find yourself pressed up against Jamie’s car, his hands holding your waist and his tongue down your throat. As much as you loved the attention, you pulled away, placing a gentle hand on his cheek when he tried to follow.

“Someone could see,” you whisper against him, trying to keep an ear out for anyone else leaving the small party at Colin’s house. This seems to bring Jamie back to his senses, though, because he unlocks his car and slips inside, but only after he kisses you one last time.

The drive to his place is short, leaving the two of you sitting in his driveway, no sounds but the noises filtering in through the cracked windows. There’s something about this, about him, that just feels like summer, like late sleepless nights and days spent in bed.

Even though neither of you have spoken about it, you can tell that whatever relationship you have with Jamie ends with the summer. You know this is for the best, knowing that once training and games pick up again he’ll barely have time for friends, let alone any other kind of relationship, but you hate the feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop. It feels like there’s an expiration date, some dark cloud looming over your sunny day, and it’s making it hard to enjoy the time you do have with Jamie.

You’d never say any of this to him, though, because you’re not even sure if you’re really friends, if this relationship you have is anything beyond physical. It’s not as though you sit around pining after Jamie Tartt all day, but you can’t help but feel left out whenever you see him with his actual friends, as if you’re missing something important about him. The two of you have a surface level connection, and you’re fine with that, you really are, it’s just hard not to get caught up in your own head.

Jamie, though, is doing his best to get rid of seemingly every thought you have, leaning over the center console to kiss you again. It’s cramped and a little awkward and you don’t have any room to move around, but you can’t stop. Eventually, the two of you break apart for long enough to stumble into Jamie’s house and then you’re being pushed backwards to his bedroom.

The realization hits you that this is the first time you’ve ever been to Jamie’s house, and you can’t help but look around his bedroom, taking in all of his choices in decorations and knick-knacks.

“That’s a pretty color,” you say absentmindedly, starting off into his room.

“I’m sorry, am I boring you?” Jamie asks, pulling back from where he’d been sucking a mark onto your chest.

You can’t help but laugh, loud and unrestrained, as you run your fingers through the strands of hair hanging in Jamie’s eyes, giving them a gentle tug. Looking down after you catch your breath, you notice Jamie smiling at you and suddenly you feel too exposed, too open and you want to turn and run and never see him again but instead you use your light grip on his hair to pull him up for a kiss.

There’s a strange feeling deep in your stomach, one that you plan to ignore for as long as you can because it’s distracting you from Jamie. At first, you’d just thought it was the want filling your body, the urge to pull him impossibly close and feel him impossibly deep, but the feeling’s still there hours later as you lie boneless and sleepy.

Jamie’s off getting you some water, even though you never asked for any, and when he returns you’re dozing on his pillow, resisting the urge to snuggle under his sheets.

“You can just stay here tonight, if you want,” Jamie offers, sitting on the other side of the bed and staring off into space before quietly adding, “I wouldn’t mind.”

“Your bed is pretty comfortable,” you reply, thankful that you don’t have to get up and go searching for your clothes.

Instead, Jamie hands you the glass of water and a t-shirt, one that you gratefully slip on before getting under the covers. You fall asleep almost immediately, exhaustion spread throughout your entire body and mind, so you never know that Jamie lies awake almost the whole night, staring at the ceiling and trying not to wake you up or think about how perfect you look while asleep next to him.

When you do wake up, it’s with the sun streaming through the windows and Jamie’s arm slung over your waist. The two of you are impossibly close, both sharing the same pillow despite the size of his bed. It pains you to notice that he’s incredibly adorable when he’s sleeping. Part of you wants to kiss him all over and wake him, but the other just wants to let him sleep forever, watching as he breathes.

Luckily, you don’t need to make that choice, as Jamie’s eyes flutter open and you can see when he realizes just how close the two of you are and he tries to play it smooth but he scoots back to the side he fell asleep on.

“Did you sleep alright?” He asks, and you’re more focused on the scratchy way his voice sounds than the actual question. You just nod, hoping that was the right answer and delighting when he smiles, all soft and sweet and just for you.

You need to leave, get out while you still can before you end up spending the whole day with Jamie, because you know if you stay for a second longer you’re never going to want to leave him. Most of your time together was spent sleeping, but it's already almost impossibly hard to leave him. While you still have your resolve, you slip out of his insanely comfortable bed and go hunting for your clothes. It kills you a little inside when Jamie doesn’t stop you.

“Want me to drive you?” He asks, sitting up and moving to get out of bed and you need to stop yourself from staring at his toned chest, at the shorts low on his hips.

“No, I can just walk, it’s a nice day,” you lie, having no idea what the weather was like but hoping that summer wouldn’t let you down. Jamie nods, settles back into bed, and you could swear your heart physically aches because none of this should be happening.

You shouldn’t even be here in the first place, but here you are not wanting to leave. You shouldn’t be staring at him, with his mussed hair and his tattoos on full display. You shouldn’t have any feelings for him besides physical attraction and the basic feelings of friendship, but you’re starting to worry about that feeling in your belly that just grows and grows every second you spend with Jamie.

“See you around,” you tell him, leaving as quickly as you can before you convince yourself to stay any longer. You wander around London, all turned around and trying to find your flat without thinking of Jamie, while Jamie sits at home and tries not to think of you.

The rest of your day is spent doing meaningless activities, chores and work you’d been putting off for weeks. You wash your sheets and clean your fridge and respond to emails, trying your hardest to keep your mind off Jamie. It’s impossible, and the second you find yourself distracted, your mind wanders right back to him. What you really need is to leave your house, find someplace with blasting music and bodies pressed impossibly close, somewhere that you’ll have no space to think of anything, let alone Jamie.

Lucky for you, Keeley stays busy, always having one event or another she needs to go to and she always lets you tag along. Tonight your mission is to stop thinking of Jamie, even if that doesn’t mean going home with someone else. Just for a few hours, you don’t need him consuming your every thought.

Unfortunately for you, Jamie is always welcome with Keeley and has the same exact plan as you.

The air inside the bar is stifling, as if there’s no air conditioning and no windows, just the thick summer heat. You notice Jamie almost immediately, though it would be impossible not to with his highlights and his beaming smile, like your own personal sun. As much as you try to fight it, you can’t help but wonder if he noticed you at all, if he thinks of you at all when you’re not together.

You’re two drinks deep and you can’t help but think about Jamie, about what he thinks of you. Are you really just someone to fuck, someone who’s attractive enough for him to sleep with you whenever he feels the urge?

You’re three drinks deep and you can’t help but wonder if you could ever be anything more to him, if he’d ever want that. It’s common knowledge that Jamie’s still a little hooked on Keeley, and who could blame him, but are you really just a distraction?

You’re four drinks deep and you can’t stop crying, the tears flowing like rivers as Keeley and Rebecca try their best to comfort you, to calm you down. Eventually, Rebecca calls you a car and Keeley waits with you, ready to leave and make sure you get home safely.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I promise,” you say through your sobs as you sit in the backseat on your way to your apartment, Keeley rubbing up and down your arms in a soothing manner.

“This isn’t about Jamie, is it?” She asks in that kind, understanding voice of hers and it only makes you cry harder.

“I think I love him and it fucking sucks.” Keeley’s hand moves to smooth over your hair as you lean against her, all the fight draining out of your body.

“Babe, just tell him.” You can’t help but shoot her a glare, one that she brushes off with a laugh, “What’s the worst that could happen? He won’t sleep with you anymore?”

Your mouth drops open, shocked to your core that Keeley knew about what the two of you had been doing and your heart breaks a little more because you feel like you’ve just betrayed one of your best friends. Keeley, though, gives you a supportive little squeeze, one that tells you that she isn’t mad at all.

That was one of your favorite things about Keeley, how supportive she is of all of the people she loves, no matter the situation. She’s wise beyond her years and is the kind of person who will go out and get whatever she wants through her own hard work and determination. Keeley is absolutely someone you need on your side, and it hits you just how thankful you are for her and all she does for you.

Here you are, sobbing over a boy, and Keeley does nothing but support you and try to help you calm down. She doesn’t look at you like you’re over-dramatic or crazy and instead is doing her best to fix whatever was making you feel this way.

“Clearly, this whole situation-ship is hurting you, and if he doesn’t want the same things as you, maybe it’s time to let it end,” she finishes with another loving squeeze, just as the car pulls up outside of your building.

The two of you slide out of the car, Keeley offering you her hand as she helps you up to your apartment and you’re left reeling by what she’s said. You didn’t even know you wanted something more until it hit you like a ton of bricks tonight, Jamie consuming your thoughts in all the wrong ways. You know Keeley’s right, that whatever you have going on is only going to hurt you in the long run, so you resolve to tell him everything the next time you see him.

Keeley’s wise words from the car and the glass of water she gave you before she left after confirming no less than ten times that you were okay have you sobering up rather quickly. You’re left feeling embarrassed and exhausted to the bone, wanting nothing more than to lay down in your bed and stay there for the next hundred years, but suddenly there’s a knock at your door and Jamie’s standing outside.

“Keeley let me in, hope that’s ok,” he tells you, seeming slightly uncomfortable and you briefly wonder if it’s because of your puffy eyes and slightly disheveled appearance, embarrassment coursing hot through your blood. “Just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Jamie always keeps you on your toes, and though you know this isn’t a big deal, it warms your heart all the same. Jamie Tartt, drama queen footballer and prick reality star, is at your front door to see if you’re ok because you left a bar crying. You’d promised yourself that the next time you saw Jamie, you’d sit him down and talk about your feelings, vowing that you wouldn’t hide them anymore.

But here Jamie is, being all sweet and concerned, and that plan goes out the window. There’s just something about him that makes all the sense leave your body, so instead of having a conversation about your feelings you pull him down by his shoulders and kiss him.

It’s messy and desperate, and even though you’ve sobered up since leaving the bar, your head is spinning and your thoughts are starting to become consumed with Jamie. There’s a weight behind it this time, one that you’re sure the both of you are aware of, because Jamie’s hands are gripping your waist with a bruising force and you barely even pull away from him to breathe.

Both of you know something is going to change.

As you make your way to your bedroom, clothing is thrown down the hallway, a sock here and a shoe there, until you almost trip trying to remove your pants. Luckily for you, though, after what seemed like a miles long walk, you finally reached your bedroom door.

Jamie pushes you gently inside, breaking the kiss but staying close enough to breathe the same air, and he keeps pushing you back until the back of your knees hit the bed and you fall onto it with a sound of surprise. Jamie just smiles, but it’s soft in a way that makes your insides melt and not the cocky smile he has whenever he scores a goal.

You scramble to sit up, to take your shirt off, but your brain shuts off when you see Jamie get on his knees in front of you. More gently than you ever could have imagined, he tugs on the hem of your pants, bringing them down your hips until you need to push off of the bed to get them down the rest of the way. He continues to pull until they slip free of your feet, and by the time he’s standing again you’re throwing yourself upward to kiss him.

There’s just something about him that makes you want to be near him all the time, like a moth to the flame. It doesn’t feel self destructive though, and that’s what scares you. It scares you that you might be hurting yourself without knowing but it scares you more that this might not hurt you at all.

It’s always a little shocking to you just how gentle Jamie is, the soft way he cradles your jaw when he kisses you and the way he runs his hands up and down your back when he can tell everything is starting to get overwhelming. Of course, he can be plenty rough and you have the bite marks on your thighs and the hickeys on your chest to prove it, but it seems like it’s in his nature to be soft with you.

“You sure you wanna do this?” He asks, fingers playing gentling with the hem of your shirt.

“100%,” you reply, and give him a quick kiss to reaffirm your statement. Now, he wastes no time in pulling off your shirt and starting to remove his own clothes. It makes you pause, standing there by the foot of your bed in the process of removing your bra, because suddenly he’s shirtless and it never gets any less surprising despite the many times you’ve been in this situation.

It’s not like your being subtle in your ogling, and Jamie just smirks when he sees you staring. He pushes you back onto the bed, softer this time, and you scoot yourself backwards until your head is resting on the pillows. Jamie joins you, pushing your legs open wider so there's room for him to lay in between them.

Then, you’re almost certain you’ve died and gone to heaven because he’s slipping his fingers into the waistband of your panties and tugging them over your hips and down your thighs. You’re absolutely no help, lying there pliant for him to maneuver however he sees fit because you’re fully convinced your brain has stopped working.

It’s a little startling, how well Jamie knows your body. He always knows the right pressure and movement and location to make you see stars, make your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drop open. You’d think that he’d be all bark and no bite, but it’s so clear to you now that he has the skills to back up his attitude.

You have the bite marks to prove it.

Your fingers are itching for something to grab onto, something more substantial than grasping at your bedsheets, so you gently twist Jamie’s hair around your fingers, just enough to ground you, to keep you anchored to your body when you feel like you’re seconds from floating away.

It feels too good, too overwhelming, you’re unable to control any of the sounds that come out of your mouth. Jamie’s hands are gripping, digging into the flesh of your thighs and it stings where his fingernails dig in but it’s so perfect you can’t help the way you whine.

The connection between your brain and your mouth must be severed because you keep babbling away about how good, how perfect everything feels. You’re not thinking at all, only able to focus on the feelings building deep in your belly until Jamie licks at your clit with the perfect amount of pressure and you just fucking lose it. Your mouth drops open and you’re completely unaware of the sounds that come pouring out of your mouth until, “I fucking love you.”

It’s like you’ve been doused in a bucket of ice water and Jamie’s pulling away and you’re fucking terrified and the pleasure that’s been building inside your body is completely replaced with dread. After you feel Jamie pulling back, you turn your gaze from the ceiling down to between your legs where Jamie still lies.

He just grins, looking like sin himself with your slick making his mouth all shiny and glossy. And then he gets right back to work, nipping at your inner thigh before doubling down his attention, working twice as hard and you don’t even remember what you’ve said because you’re thrown headfirst back into the intensity of Jamie’s full skill and attention.

It’s only seconds later when you’re almost certain that you’ve died, feeling like an exploding star as your back arches off the bed and you dig your fingers harder into Jamie’s hair and your mouth falls open again. When you regain your sense of existence, your body feels tingly all over as if the remnants of your orgasm are still coursing through your veins.

Breathing hard, you look down to see Jamie resting his head on one of your thighs, just waiting for you to come down from your high. He places a kiss over one of the marks he made on your inner thigh before he crawls up the bed to plant a soft kiss on your lips.

He disappears after that, and you’re a little worried that he’s left you like this before he comes back a few minutes later, with a glass of water and a plate of snacks. The thought of him trifling through your cupboard makes your heart stutter a little and you’re so overwhelmed with feelings that you can only manage to give him a small smile in thanks.

The two of you sit quietly side by side on your bed, eating the snacks Jamie had brought. He checks in on you again and again, making sure you’re totally comfortable. And then, he clears his throat and shifts around, looking uncomfortable and you can feel your heart rising into your throat, dread gripping at your stomach.

“Are we gonna talk about what you said?” He asks, tracing shapes on the bare skin of your knee as he talks and looks anywhere but your face.

“I think I meant it,” you tell him, feeling as if your whole world is crashing down around you. There are other important things in your life, work and friends and family, but there’s something about Jamie that even after the limited time you’ve had together, the thought of losing him makes you sick to your stomach.

“Good, that’s good to know.” He goes quiet for a moment but his fingers never still in their drawing, “I think so too.”

“Good,” you tell him with a smile, one that he returns and it makes you want to cry because he’s so gorgeous and wonderful and you won’t be losing him after all, there’s a hope for you, a future, and that’s all you need.

You know nothing is certain and there are plenty of things that could go wrong, but you try to bask in the afterglow of what’s been confessed the same way you’d lay in the sunshine. You feel warm and happy and you’re determined to hang onto those feelings, to enjoy the time you spend with Jamie instead of worrying that everything will come crashing down.

There’s just something about him, something that makes your worrying come to a pause whenever you’re with him. He brings you an unexpected sort of peace, one that you vow to enjoy now that you’re not worrying when it will disappear, when he’ll disappear. For once, that feeling in your chest isn’t one of anxiety but one that you’re convinced is love.

You love Jamie Tartt, and that thought isn’t as scary as it once was.

Tags: @andr0medafallen @pazvizslasprincess @scaramou @parcelofbread @lightninginab0ttle @curlypeter @maggiecc @percysaidnever

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Office Space 6

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you’re an assistant to private and corporate investigator, Nick Fowler, and find yourself brought into the fold of his shady professional life. 

Characters: Nick Fowler, Jonathan Pine, this reader is known as Elfie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

Dinner is spent in a similarly contentious spar of words. You're so over it that you find yourself zoning out in favour of your plate. The steak is good. Better than anything you'd spend money on. 

As you chew on a morsel, the server returns and Nick gestures, "another round." 

Before you can stop him, though you can't argue with him either way, you're locked into a fourth cocktail. He keeps doing that thought your third is hardly complaining for it. You can't help but wonder if this is going to be an expense report. 

You swallow and grab your napkin. You dab your lips and shift. The weight in your bladder settles and you nearly squeak. You lean forward and fold the cloth. 

"Er, excuse me, I need... to go to the ladies," you try to make it sound as proper as you can. 

"Mm, pardon," Pine is quick to slide off the bench. "As you will." 

You shimmy over, biting your lip as your insides knot. As you stand, he looms close, and you swear his hand brushes closes against your pants. You don't flinch as you can only focus on the urgency in your pelvis. 

You flee, grateful for more than the relief of your body, but to be free of them for one second. The two men together are the definition of suffocation. You can't keep track if they're having fun or doing battle. Over what, you're uncertain. 

You take your time before you return to the table. You see the men huddled over as you approach, voices low. They're strangely amiable after a night of dueling.

Your drink is waiting on the table. This time, Nick stands to let you in. You skirt by and he sidles in after you. 

"Well, that was a wonderful meal," Pine intones, "are we keen for dessert?" 

As you lean forward to busy yourself with a stir of the slender straw, you feel a tickle on your back, "how about it, Elf? You like sweet stuff?" Nick asks. 

You sit back before you can taste the cocktail and crush his hand. 

"Huh, oh, now, I'm stuffed." You affirm. He doesn't pull his hand away. 

"I am in the mind for it," Jonathan caresses your sleeve and you look at him. "Mm, something warm and soft." 

"Hm?" You make a face and Nick pinches a fold in your pants, giving a tug. "Woah, hey." 

You catch his hand as Pine's flutters along your neck. You lean away from the latter as you wrestle your boss. 

"What the hell are you--" 

"We had a civil discussion when you were occupied," Pine explains  

"We've come to an arrangement," Nick grins as he bats your hand off of his. 

"Um, can you stop?" You latch onto both of their hands, squirming as you try to push them away. "This is not--" 

"Ah, come on, Elf, just a little after work fun..." Nick squeezes your knee  

"I don't--" you're dizzy with confusion and surprise. What the hell were they talking about when you were gone? 

"You've had a bit much to drink, it would be irresponsible for two gentlemen to allow you to go home alone," Pine toys with your fingers, "it isn't safe." 

"Woah, stop," you his as you writhe between them, "I'm fine. I haven't-- I'm barely tipsy." 

"Is that so, darling?" Pine tuts. 

"You know, it isn't very professional to flirt with my professional colleagues," Nick reprimands. 

"No, I didn't--" you choke on your words. Maybe you are a little drunk because you can't see straight. "I... it's a business dinner." 

"It's a formality," Pine insists. 

Heat speckles down your neck and across your shoulders. Pressure constricts your chest and throat as you try to set yourself straight. You can't focus as they keep pawing at you. 

“Form-- hey, okay, buddy!” You barely keep your voice from exploding as Nick’s hand slips between your legs. 

“Buddy? What happened to sir, Elfie?” He teases. 

“What the hell happened to you?” You retort, too addled to think clearly. You know he’s still your boss but he’s not acting like it. 

“It’s Saturday, loosen up. You think I don’t know what you do when you go out with the girls?” he grits. 

Jonathan’s hand wraps around your neck and Nick fights with your own desperate grip. You struggle to keep him from going higher. You glance over, aware that you could have witnesses to this display of animalism. 

“Why don’t we get out of here?” Jonathan purrs. 

“How about--” You clasp onto his wrist, “we don’t? I should go home.” 

“Darling, you’ve been flirting all night and now you want to spoil the fun?” The blond chides. 

“No. Not flirting, I--” 

“Come on, Elf. Don’t you wanna have some fun? All those dull office days? Sitting there, in those pants, bending over...” 

“Jesus,” you hiss and wriggle between them, “what’s-- what’s-- this can’t be real.” 

“Oh, this is very real, darling,” Pine hums into your hair. 

He runs his other hand down your arm and guides your hand back. He places your palm against his lap and you squeak. Nick chuckles and frees himself from your clutches. He pushes his fingers against the front of your pants and winks. 

“Elf, you’re a good girl.” He pushes until you whine, “you always do what you’re told... and you’ll do just that tonight.” 

[justakennyoshi]

Looking at Kenny's bedroom makes me wonder if he's simply a disorganized boy and won't listen to his mom or it could be bc that while for some boys in south park their mothers make their bed (e.g. Cartman) and for others they're told to do that themselves (e.g. Kyle) so at least there's the pressure of their moms to make their bed, but since Kenny parents are not around to be actual parents then Kenny was left alone to do these chores and since he's disorganized (or low self steem-) he won't mind his bedroom being a mess. And I say disorganized and not irresponsible because if we follow this logic he'd do other chores by himself AND for Karen. I like this second version more because iirc Carol does consider Kenny to be a good son and they don't really have a beef going on, really shown when he gets his own bedroom and is free to do wtw he wants probably (this lenient attitude is more shown in early seasons when Karen didn't exist but I think it still applies till now) so why would he refuse to make his bed and cleaning his bedroom?

Another detail I'd like to point out is that if we follow the logic that Kenny does most of the chores then it could be possible that he actually is who cleans Karen's bedroom (just look, is definitely cleaner than any place in the house), only a hc bc it could perfectly be Kevin or Karen herself who does this but think about it

We really don't know a lot about Kevin, only that he has beef with Stuart and they fight often, he's not seen around the McCormick's household so it could be kinda implied he doesn't spend a lot of time in his home, avoiding it altogether crashing at his friends place. Maybe.

About Karen c'mon, first, she's a small child so is less likely she already learned how to do chores (i mean is at her age when you learn) and the idea of Kenny ignoring his own bedroom but diligently cleaning Karen's bedroom so she can have the best version of her place is more Kenny like

The bedroom is still kinda disorganized but it would be bc since Kenny is already a messy boy, even if he cleans he wouldn't ace at this but is clean enough for Karen to be at a safe space I think. It's even cleaner in the next pic

So is Kenny being a good sibling? Kenny is being a good bro

[princessgojolover]

Smiles for the camera

Terushima Yuuji thinks he's going insane when he sees his cute little college crush on a porn site.

Terushima Yuuji x Camgirl!reader

CW: NSFW, enemies with benefits -> enemies to lovers, sex, oral sex, dick and tongue piercing, masturbation, porn, praise kink, hair pulling, creampie, camgirl!reader, college/University AU.

wc: 4320

You're halfway through your first year of college. It seems to be going relatively well, excluding a couple of irritants. The early classes. The busy hallways. The monthly bills. The noisey hallways. But worse of all. Terushima Yuuji. You’re not particularly sure when your little feud began. Maybe it was when he irresponsibly found a way to spill his entire energy drink all over you in the first week. Or maybe it was when he’d completely ruined your spring project with him as he refused to work properly. It could’ve been that he would always ask you for stationary, only to never return it. You don’t know, and you don’t care. One thing you do know is that Terushima Yuuji was not your friend.

Tiredly, you sigh as you take your glasses off, trying your hardest to ignore the pest beside you. A handsome one at that. “If you rub your eyes like that, they’ll get damaged.” Terushima warns you. You roll your eyes, looking down at your watch eagerly. “Why so agitated, cutie?” Yuuji teases. You gag. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop with these pet names?” You complain. Terushima only smirks. “What? You don’t like that one either?” He asks you, fiddling with the hem of your cardigan. “How about my actual name?” You ask.

“Where’s the fun in that baby?” He jokes. You groan in response, practically slamming your head on the desk in annoyance. Terushima only smiles in adoration. Anything and everything you do seems to please him. In reality, he obsesses over you. Every name you call him, every time you slap him, he loves it. He loves the attention. He can’t help it. Not when it’s you, the cutest girl he’s ever seen. But why can’t you realise that?

The end of the day approaches fast. Soon enough, you’re in your dorm, studying, as Terushima is in his, although, he is not quite studying. His delicate fingers slightly tremble as he types into his phone. He feels guilty. Sexualising you like that. But he can’t help it as he searches on whatever porn website, “Girls with glasses..” “College girls..” “Nerdy girls..” He scrolls lazily in slight anticipation. Suddenly, he scrolls back up, his heart stopping immediately.

No way.

No fucking way.

He thinks he’s dreaming.

He thinks he’s crazy.

He thinks he’s officially lost the plot when he sees the girl of his dreams, on Pornhub. Pornhub of all places. He almost cums when he sees your pretty face in the thumbnail. Your pretty body is set in a very compromising position. The first thing he does is screenshot what he’s seeing, to save it for later. The next thing he does is the beginning of your interesting relationship with Terushima Yuuji.

Still in shock, Terushima, so nervously, clicks on the video. It’s only a minute or so until your erotic moans are playing into his, now blushy, ears. His mouth falls open, amazed. The throbbing in between his legs is unbearable. But despite that, he can’t bring himself to move. Not when he is watching you fuck yourself with some sort of dildo. Not when you’re moaning like that. The image of your angelic body will forever be burned into his restless mind. He could never complain. Terushima stares in awe as you grind your hips fluidly, rolling your eyes through your trademark glasses. He can’t help but wish it was him beneath you. The next 16 minutes are discourteous. He strokes his dick slowly, trying to hold himself for whatever reason. Maybe it’s because he’s imagining you. Imagining what you’d feel like riding his dick. In a matter of seconds, he begins to wonder what you sitting on his face would be like. He spends the rest of his evening going through your content, tipping all kinds of bills under a fake name.

As you stroll on through the rowdy hallways of the college, you spot Terushima in the corner of your eye. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you catch him walking with the smallest limp. Oddly, you of all people notice it. Curiously, your mind wonders. Did he trip over? Did he do something stupid and irresponsible again. Your eyes scan his face and you realise he seems awfully chipper about something. You then sigh. The idea of Terushima having sex with other girls irks you. You’re not sure why it makes you angry. Maybe it’s because you’re supposed to hate him. Or maybe it’s because you’re jealous. Who knows? Your mind couldn’t come close to figuring out just why Terushima is acting like this on such a boring day. Not even an inch close.

You avoid sitting next to the boy in your next class, instead opting to sit near a friend. Regrettably, you fail to see the way Terushima’s eyes fault in distress as he is under the impression that he has done something wrong. Yes, he did stalk your entire account the day before, going 4 or 5 rounds before he called it a day. But you didn’t know this. What could possibly be the issue? Eventually you are distracted from all and any work at the buzz of your phone. You move to switch it off until you see that the notification is from a recipient by the name of Terushima Yuuji. Inquisitively, you turn your head to look at the blonde boy, a questioning look on your innocent face. He only shakes his phone, signalling for you to read the message. ‘Did I do something?’ The message reads. ‘What a stupid question!’ Is all you can think. You ask him what on earth he is on about, to which he responds explaining how you’re not sitting with him. This has you puzzled. Since when did he care?

In time, the conversation gets to a point where you ,so boldly, state, ‘I’m not interested in being one of your fangirls or flings.’ When he asks you what you mean by that, you bring up his subtle limping. The conversation stops for a minute. You look around the classroom confused, only to see him smirking at his phone before he’s typing again. What is he up to? Yuuji is quick to clear up the miscalculation as he explains that the reason he is limping is because he was up all night fucking himself to you, attatching the screenshot before sending the message. After reading the bombshell of a message, you turn around to see Terushima smirking slyly at you, pure confidence in his dark eyes. You’ve never looked back down at your desk so fast, stressing out as your heart rate increases.

At the end of the lesson, Terushima apprehensively follows you out of the lecture hall, his light footsteps echoing behind you as you speed up. He calls your name tauntingly. He does it again. When you’re further away from the crowds, you turn around, your precious eyes locking with his own. Yuuji is left in a duel state of excitement and shock after you slap him across his smug face. “Fucking pervert.” You complain. You couldn’t fully complain when the idea of him getting off to you is all you can think about. “My bad, sweetheart, I was under the impression that you wanted people to masterbate to you.. Especially if you’re a camgirl.” Yuuji responds, gracefully taking your hand and lowering it. You cannot help but become flustered at the statement, and the fact that he is holding your hand lightly. “But if you wanted to be pleased, you could’ve just asked me.” He jokes. Although, he most definitely isn't joking. And you are very much aware of that.

Enough of his constant fooling around, you decide to bite back. “I don’t know Teru, I wasn’t under the impression that a boy could please me the way I need to be pleased.” You tell the boy. Terushima’s eyes widen. “Well that’s just because you haven’t tried me yet.” He argues. He’s desperate and you both know it. You take a step forward closer to him and look him directly in the eyes. “Hmm..” You falsely begin to ponder. “Who knows, maybe you could put that tongue piercing to use.” You suggest, sliding one of your fingers onto the shiny ball sat on his tongue. Yuuji blushed tremendously, surprised by your unexpected gesture. “I’ll see you around dumbass.” You mock him, walking off into the distance. Belatedly, Teru pieces everything together, baffled that he could’ve made such a huge mistake of thinking you were a sweet, innocent girl. He recalls how you would always seem to have new clothes and expensive things, wondering where you could have possibly gotten the cash from. You were going to be the death of that poor boy.

Terushima is doing some last minute studying when the clamorous sound of an untimely message alerts him. He sighs, picking up his phone, only to relax as your name flashes on his screen. He reads the message. Simply put, it’s your dorm room and an instruction. Bring condoms. That evening, his homework is neglected and so is his self respect and composure when he practically runs across the campus to your dorm. He couldn't care less about the strange looks he receives on the way. You almost jump as you hear an urgent banging at your door. You roll your eyes bitterly and stand from your sofa to open the door angrily. “Terushima what the hell is wr-” You’re cut off with the feeling of his soft lips on yours. The door slams behind him as his hands slide down to your waist, gripping the sides of your body. You shudder as the metal ball of his piercing slides off your tongue.

As if this story wasn’t cliche enough, he bends down slightly to grab onto your soft thighs, lifting you up to press you against the pale walls as the two of you kiss lustfully. Small moans escape from both of your mouths in anticipation, only yours become more frequent as you feel the rock beneath you. Terushima has never felt so hard and needy in his life. His dick, which is covered by pesky clothing, rubs against your clit, which is protected by the thin layer of silky underwear. It’s only until you feel an odd, ball shaped structure roll against your throbbing clit when you are brought out of your daze. “What is that..?” You question in a slow mumble. Teru only chuckles against your lips as he carries you towards your bed, gently laying you down on the soft sheets before he moves to kiss your neck sweetly. You run your gentle fingers through his blonde hair, gripping onto it tenderly as he smells the sweet perfume radiating off of your chest area.

The boy wastes no time taking off your clothing, careful not to rip them. You fail to see when Yuuji sneaks the silky pair of panties that you were wearing into his trouser pocket. He lowers himself back down to cover your breasts and stomach with kisses, very affectionately. Finally, his face is between your legs, and you feel him smirk against your supple skin. Terushima sticks his tongue out, licking the wetness from your pussy. You relax in exhilaration as his piercing glides up, down and around your throbbing clit. Your graceful hands make their way back to Yuuji’s head as you pull him closer towards you and tug at his hair. “Teru..” You begin to moan. A small creak of the bed echos throughout the room as he rubs his hardened cock on the edge of your bed, moaning into your wet pussy. “Just like that..” You whimper.

It doesn’t take long before you cum onto his tongue, gripping his hair harshly as he continues at a faster pace. Your thighs begin to close around his head as it starts to become too much. But that’s when the fun begins. Terushima forcefully pushes your thighs apart and grips them lovingly. He goes right back into your pussy, lapping up your cum with his tongue as if he was starving. You begin to think that he’s not doing this for your pleasure. And you’re right. Just the act of you whimpering beneath him is enough to get him gone. He begins to thrust his hips towards the edge of your bed, hoping for some sort of stimulation as his dick throbs painfully. “Oh, God! Yuuji that feels so good.” You burst. You feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as your hips jerk up and down his tongue while he overstimulates your sensitive clit. Your glasses are now starting to fog up from the heat and pleasure coming from your body. At last, he finishes eating you out when he leans upward to give you a kiss on the cheek. “Do you wanna continue?” He asks you. You nod undeniably.

Teru steps away from the bed to undo his jeans. The sound of the buckle on his belt has you rubbing your thighs in anticipation as Yuuji undresses before you. When he finally lets his hardened cock free, your mouth widens slightly. His dick is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, you think. It’s perfectly long and thick, with a few veins here and there. But that’s not what you’re focused on. It’s hard not to stare at the bold piercing at the tip of his dick. “Teru.. I didn’t think you’d actually pierce your dick.” You mutter in surprise, referring to a joke he’d made a couple months back. Teru only chuckles in response, focussed on the task at hand. You sit up as he crouches onto the bed before your lips meet for yet another makeout session. This time around, you’re sat straddling his toned thighs, which feel hard beneath you. “Let’s see how big you can get for me.” Teru groans as you tease him, jolting in pleasure as you feel the veins from Yuuji’s dick rub against your clit. While you’re busy kissing the boy, your hips automatically begin to grind on the boy’s lap, causing him to bite onto your soft, cherry-red lips. “God, I've been waiting weeks for this..” Terushima confesses as he pulls away to breathe. This suddenly gives you a brainwave.

“Oh yeah?” You change the tone in your voice, questioning the needy boy.

“Fuck yeah..” He admits. You smirk, raising your hand to meet his pretty face. The look of confusion on Terushima is adorable as you push the boy down onto your bed, his head slamming softly against your pillow. “Well you’re gonna have to wait a little longer.” You reveal. “Come on.. please don’t do this to me, baby.” Yuuji begs, tears in his eyes as he feels he can no longer hold it in. He gushes internally as you giggle before climbing onto his face, your soft, plush thighs hugging the sides of his head as you straddle him, your pussy directly on his mouth and his nose pushing into your clit as you set out to ride his face. This is Terushima’s dream come true. The boy refuses to complain as his hands find their way to your thighs to support you as you, so elegantly, ride his face. You hold onto Terushima’s strong-built, muscular thighs for support as you grind yourself on his tongue, becoming addicted to the feeling of his silver piercing exploring all over your wet pussy.

Head thrown back in pleasure, you moan in ecstasy as Yuuji licks everything you have to offer down there. You fail to see as Terushima’s hips jerk upwards, his dick DESPERATE for any kind of stimulation, which he has yet to receive. By now, there is plenty of cum already seeping out from the tip of his huge cock, which is ready to cum all over himself. His dick is twitching in agony as he slowly gets off to the act of eating you out. Your thighs completely crush into Teru’s head below you as you cum for the third time that hour. Your hips slow down drastically as he laps up the remains of your cum. It isn’t long before you feel an abrupt wetness on your hand, as you turn around to see that Terushima Yuuji has cum from simply having you sit on his face. “No way..” You fawn. Finally, you climb off his face, sitting down next to him to regain your breath. You look at Yuuji to see him blushing in embarrassment. He is about to explain himself before you interrupt him. “You’re so fucking cute.” You tell him before grabbing his face and kissing him.

“Please.. I just wanna feel you.” Terushima begs. You take his pleading as a sign to straddling his thighs for the nth time of the evening, lowering yourself onto his cock which is already smothered in his own cum. “The condom..” Yuuji winces.

“Forget about it.” You order, as you start to bounce onto his cock and wrap your fingers in his hair and hold onto his precious face. The idea of Yuuji fucking you raw has the two of you feral. Yuuji is already whimpering as you bounce on his cock, your beautiful tits flaunting themselves right in his face. He takes the opportunity to lick on your nipples before accepting your breast into his mouth as he sucks on them. The pleasure that Yuuji’s dick is feeling is barely explainable. It doesn’t take long for him to fall in love with the warm feeling of your wet pussy, which is tight, despite all the pleasure you are feeling that makes you relax around his perfect dick. There is still some pain from the sudden thrusting but you’re quick to forget about it, your mind only focussed on one thing.

Tears threaten to prick from Teru’s darkened eyes as he’s overwhelmed with unknown pleasure. Being with you is new to him and he’d like to get used to it. The feeling of his tongue piercing rolling against your hardened nipple has you feeling like you’ve never felt before. You swear to yourself that nobody has pleasured you like Terushima has. It only gives you a bitter feeling as he must have fucked several women before to obtain such skills. “What’s wrong?” Yuuji chokes out as he manages your change in expression.

“Nothing..” You stutter before grabbing onto his face and kissing him. Teru’s soft hands wander around your body and settle at your waist, bringing you closer to him. The warmth that he’s feeling is just right and he promises himself that he’ll do things right this time around.

The two of you are close to orgasm, which makes Yuuji’s body act alone as he begins thrusting hard into your pussy, shocking you in the process. He leans back against your headboard and he grabs the bottom of your thighs, lifting you upwards to fuck you himself. You fall slightly onto him and hug him close, your head resting on his broad shoulder as he brings himself close to cumming. “You want me to pull out?” He asks you, concerned.

“I’ll just get plan B.. Yuuji I’m gonna cum.” You respond, your arms wrapped around his neck as you hug him tightly. That’s all he needs to hear before he’s fucking himself at a godly pace, ready to cum inside you. You moan erotically as you cum for the final time of the evening all over Yuuji’s dick. The sounds are what brings Terushima Yuuji to his orgasm, feeling a small sense of pride as he cums all inside your throbbing pussy. He slows down to ride out both of your orgasms before you completely fall onto his chest and he relaxes back, his cock still buried inside you. He takes a few moments to recollect himself, as you calm down.

“Oh fuck me..” Yuuji sighs angrily.

The sudden shift in mood has you confused. “What’s wrong?” You ask Yuuji, confused, to which he responds, “I forgot to complete my assignment that’s due tomorrow and I’m fucked.” You pull away from him to face him.

“What topic was it?” You ask him, equally concerned as him.

“Literature..” Terushima mumbles. Literature happened to be your shared topic in your sociology and liberal arts course. It also happened to be your strong suit.

“Well, if you want I can help you finish it tonight? I did mine already and it wasn’t too hard.” You suggest. Terushima lets out a quiet sigh of relief. He looks you in the eye before thanking you. You lean in and provide a final kiss on his forehead before easing off his dick. It’s at that point in time when Teru realises his feelings for you are not just lust, but love. Terushima Yuuji is in love with you. And you still can’t realise it.

The two of you have been going at it for a few weeks since the moment he found your little collection online. You’ve tried out new things, recorded some things and shared quite interesting moments between the two of you. However, it is still strictly a frenemies with benefits situation and Terushima cannot help but die internally. He cannot seem to find a way to confess his undying love to you or figure out exactly what you want from him. Maybe that’s what happens when you have a reputation for being some kind of fuckboy. Since your first sexual encounter, Teru’s feelings for you have only grown stronger and more secure. He’s never been more sure of anything in his entire life. As the days go by, Terushima watches as boys from your class start to take a liking to you. He watches with a heavy heart as you give them small bits of attention, despite knowing that you’d never give them a chance. It puts him at ease to know that it’s his face you’re sitting on every week, but he simply wants more. It’s starting to eat him up inside. He never thought he would be in this predicament. As opposed to searching up your name online, he starts to search for answers.

How to ask a girl out? How to make her know you want her? How to know if she wants me?

Terushima Yuuji is down bad.

And you’re not helping him as you flirt with him like it’s nothing.

At the end of the week, Yuuji is at his limit. You, on the other hand, are only beginning to realise your feelings for the blonde. He’s grown on you. After a couple weeks, he stays on your mind 24/7, but this time, it’s out of love. Terushima’s presence used to irritate you and inconvenience you, but after many interactions, it’s made you feel safe and happy. Which is why your heart aches when you hear Teru’s voice coming through your speaker, not sounding as cheery and excited as per usual. “Can you come over?” He asks, trying to hide the pain in his voice. “Sure.” You respond, thinking it’s just a casual fuck you’re in for.

You’re quick to finish up your work and get changed before heading to the boy’s apartment. The door is already open as come in and make yourself at home. Yuuji is found on his bed, lying down lazily.

“Morning loser.” You joke, despite it being the afternoon.

“Good afternoon, beautiful.” He tiredly responds. Something is definitely not right here. You calmly remove your soft jacket before you go to straddle Yuuji’s tired legs. You’re confused when he doesn’t sit up or aim to hold your waist. “Did you not wanna fuck today?” You ask him.

“Can we just lie down?” Terushima nervously asks.

“Sure.” You sweetly respond before moving upwards to rest your head on his chest, covering the two of you with his blanket. You wrap your arm around his toned, naked abs. He’s only wearing pyjama bottoms. Teru gently runs his slender fingers through the hair at your scalp and strokes your hair.

This is nice.

At least for you. Yuuji is dying on the inside as his brain searches for ways to start the conversation and confession of him wanting more than to be friends with benefits. Something wrong is confirmed when you hear his heartbeat increase as he grows nervous. Just as you are about to ask what’s wrong, he speaks up. “I can’t do this anymore.” He claims. You start to worry. It's probably not the best conversation starter. You sit up to face him, your hand resting beside his body for support. “What do you mean?” You ask him, making the most uncomfortable yet heartwarming eye contact. “Not like that..” Yuuji corrects himself. “I can’t take this anymore, woman! I am in love with you for fuck's sake. I don’t wanna be your fuck buddy anymore. I wanna be your boyfriend.” He finally confesses, an evident blush on his face. You feel your face heat up, and your stomach does flips while your mouth opens in surprise. Yuuji realises you are silent. “Sorr-” He starts.

“How long have you felt this way?” You interrupt nervously.

“Months.” He answers shortly. Suddenly it all makes sense. The reasons for him making you avoid certain boys. The reason why he’s barely seen talking to other girls these days. The reason why there’s an unexplained look plastered on his face whenever you flirt with another boy. “Teru..” You start.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way.. I just had to get that off my chest.” Yuuji calms down, at ease as he’s confessed it all. “Shut up.” You mumble before leaning in to kiss him.

“I love you.” You tell him when you pull away. He is shocked for a split second before he accepts your affection and returns it seconds later. “I love you too.”

not edited :(

[angelicpoison12]

his little doll 🔪ིྀ

headcanons abt being Crimson’s sugar baby!! SFW + NSFW

being Crimson’s sugar baby would include . . .

• waking up to soft, sweet kisses on your collarbone, his gruff voice in your ear as he whispers, “good mornin’, doll face. how’d my princess sleep, hm?”

• as long as you let him have coffee the second he’s up, then he’s more tolerable and susceptible to let you snuggle him

• Crimson never likes you getting involved in the dirty work. he much prefers you staying at home, making sure everything is in order

• his hands are always behind his back when out in public settings with you such as parties. but the second you’re both seated at a dinner table, bar, whatever it may be-his hand is nestled right between your thighs. don’t worry, he’ll make sure nobody says a fucking word.

• he likes when you sit on his lap, letting him blow his cigars in your face <3

• Crimson often finds himself infatuated by you. he often spends his mornings holding your hand, letting you talk about whatever’s on your mind. as long as he can hear you, he’s a happy camper.

• he knows it’s irresponsible to catch feelings in a taboo relationship such as your own, but he can’t help it! he truly finds you adorable. he loves how excited and happy you get when he buys you whatever to your hearts content

• when you’re sad, Crimson doesn’t really wanna deal with it, so he’ll do anything for you to stop being mopey. and I mean anything. go out for ice cream? okay, cool. he can do that. buy you a new necklace, ring, plushie, outfit? okay, that’s fine. anything you ask for is given.. most of the time.

• the only thing Crimson will flat out not give you is one thing: a pet. he tells you, “sorry sweetheart, but.. no.” you whine and beg, but he shuts you up with a kiss (you convince him eventually dw)

• he can never say no to your deepest, darkest desires ❤︎︎ he loves giving it to ya, especially after a bad day at work.

• Crimson isn’t too affectionate in public. the most he’ll do is a peck on the lips, cheek, or letting you sit in his lap. but once you’re both home, he’s all over you. he turns into a lovesick little puppy the second you’re both alone

• he dislikes you bringing up Moxxie. the only thing that pisses him off more than you whining like a baby is you trying to talk about Moxxie to him. Crimson definitely avoids you for an hour or two in punishment.

• you find yourself sleeping alone at first due to how busy Crimson is. but if you wake up after being in bed for a few hours, he’s curled up right next to you, his face by your ear, soft breaths signaling that he’s at ease as he inhales your scent <3

• if you make dinner well enough, he’ll eat you for dessert ;)

• knowing that you love him for more than his blood money makes his heart flutter. Crimson would never admit it, but he loves you too

• you like touching his face, squishing his cheeks, fondling his horns, and running your finger along the scars next to his eye. Crimson often shrugs it off. as long as you’re happy, he could care less

• he wants to marry you more than anything, to make you his perfect little spouse. but the fear of you crossing him is too high

[underhousearrestblog]

headcanons: Spider-Man characters as your best friends

(summary) Spider-Man: Across the Spider-verse characters as your best friends (headcanons)

(pairings) Miles Morales x reader, Gwen Stacy x reader, Hobie Brown x reader, Miguel O’Hara x reader, Peter B. Parker x reader, Jessica Drew x reader, Pavitr Prabhakar x reader, Earth-42!Miles Morales x reader

(genre) platonic friendship head canons

(also) this is all highly platonic as I am also including the kids and I don’t feel comfortable writing anything romantic for Gwen, Pav, Miles and Prowler!Miles

HAPPY READING!

Peter B. Parker

always taking his wife’s side even if she’s wrong just to piss him off

- But she told me that it doesn’t count as babysitting if I’m saving the city at the same time! – Peter was walking back and forth around your small apartment after a small spat with Mary.

- And she’s absolutely right, - you agreed while keeping an eye on Mayday who was hanging from your ceiling in one of her webs. – If the mask is on, babysitting duties are off...

getting blamed for teaching Mayday swear words, even though it was Hobie who taught her to say “fuck”

always being that friend that reminds him that his wife is way out of his league (even though you don’t actually think that and you do it just to tease him...)

constantly flirting with his wife just to annoy him

- I’m so sorry, babe, - Peter kissed Mary’s cheek. – I’ll make it for that date night. I promise.

- How about I take you out, Mary? I think you deserv-

- Y/N!! – you heard Peter yell from the other room. – STOP FLIRTING WITH MY WIFE!

You leaned closer to her and lowered your voice.

- I saw this cool new restaurant downtown-

Mary smiled at you, playfully shook her head and laughed.

- I’m married, - she flashed her ring.

You didn’t blink for a hot second before asking:

- Happily?

- Y/N!!! – you leaned back in your chair just in time to avoid a pillow that flew straight past your face.

regularly being woken up by Peter calling you up at night to pick him up from the other side of town because he didn’t feel like waking Mary up and had no problem ruining your sleep

his love language with you as his friend being quality time – after not spending a longer period of time with you because of his duties as Spider-Man or because he had only spent time with Mayday and his wife, he would randomly show up at your apartment and tag along while you were running errands (eating in your car with his feet on the dashboard, getting crumbs all over the seat while he’s telling you every little detail about the latest news in his life) – never ever forgetting that you’re his best friend

when Mayday’s old enough to go to school and she needs help with homework – both you and Peter constantly arguing about which answers are the correct ones and Mary ending up having to take Mayday to the other room because it devolves into an actual fight

Miguel O’Hara

him obviously having a soft spot for you that allowed you to get away with pretty much anything

- It was irresponsible, highly dangerous, reckless behavior that I cannot-

- It wasn’t us! – Gwen stepped in to defend her and Miles. – It was Y/N’s mission! We weren’t even there!

Miguel was silent for a second. Then he turned around to where you were sitting in his chair, calmly eating popcorn and enjoying the show. He brushed his palm over his face, as you watched in satisfaction him having an inner battle with himself.

- Anything to add? – you asked, smirking.

He shook his head in disappointment with one hand still on his hip as he pinched the bridge of his nose in between his fingers.

- Just... – he sighed, walked over and pushed your crossed ankles off his desk. – Just don’t do it again...

taking his clothes, especially because you know it annoys him

- So, I have this new hoodie-

- That’s MY hoodie.

- It WAS your hoodie. Any piece of clothing you haven’t worn for more than two months is officially up for grabs by your best friend. Best I can do now is name it “our” hoodie.

always using the best friend card in the workplace and getting away with essentially everything because you’re best friends with the boss

his love language being acts of service – mostly because he’s awkward with any words of affirmation so he would usually change a light bulb if he saw that one of yours was burnt out or change your tire when he saw that one was flat – and when you noticed it, he would just brush it off as if it was nothing, saying “that’s what friends are for”

you being kinda the only reason Miguel hasn’t died from overworking himself – you usually would force him to go home, take a shower and sleep at least eight hours – which he would object but then you would take his office key, lock him out and leave no room for arguments

having Lyla as your partner-in-crime – her giving you a lot of embarrassing material on Miguel and constantly snitching on where he is and what is he doing...

no man or woman that you’re dating is ever good enough for you – and ever if you end up in a serious relationship, Miguel’s loyalty always lies with you – his first priority is making sure that you’re safe and comfortable in any relationship

being drunk and calling Miguel up in the middle of the night (in one of the rare times he’s actually sleeping and not working himself into the ground)

- Hi? – he would sit up in his bed and stare at the phone where you were Face-timing him.

- Hi, - you said in all seriousness. – Ok. Bye.

Hobie Brown

accidentally developing a habit of not bringing your wallet with you when both of you went out to eat that resulted in him always paying for you

- I’ll get you next time, - you promised, still chewing on your burger.

- Uh-huh, - was all you heard before he pulled the check closer to his side of the table. – Just so you know – you’ll have to take out a loan to repay me for all this stuff, - he gestured towards the food with one of his fries.

- Well, who’s keeping count anyway-

- One thousand and fifteen dollars.

You had been friends for two years at that point so it wasn’t unbelievable or anything...

his love language being physical touch – Hobie wouldn’t be embarrassed or ashamed to hug you whenever you or him needed a hug...

making a habit of stealing his food which initially annoyed him but then he compromised by making his orders larger to accommodate you

having quite romantic nicknames for each other, even though you’re just friends (names like “love”, “darling” and “babe”) but also randomly calling each other “bro” and “dude”

Hobie’s an excellent long-distance friend if one of you is out of town – calling you every day to make sure you’re safe and sound

if you have a pet, Hobie would have the biggest annoyed-dad energy – meaning, he would constantly complain about how clingy your pet/ pets are to him but occasionally you would catch him snuggling with the animal as if it was his own pet

if you don’t like some of your own family members, he hates them too, and if you have great relationship with your family – he loves them, no questions asked

Miles Morales

constantly cock-blocking him with Gwen like the annoying sibling you were

You watched your best friend and his crush sit on the balcony of the apartment building. At that point, Gwen had lightly touched his shoulder and you could’ve sworn you saw Miles melt into a puddle.

- HI! – you leaned out of your window that was right next to your best friend’s balcony. – HAVE WE MET? YOU’RE GWEN, RIGHT?

You saw Miles shake his head at you to go back inside your apartment. That only gave you more courage.

- Oh my god! – you grinned and reached out your hand over the space between your window and Miles’ balcony for Gwen to shake. – I’m Miles’ friend, Y/N. It’s such an honor to finally put a face to a name so talked about!

Gwen reached over to shake your hand.

- Really? – she looked unconvinced. – You’re talking about me to your friends, Miles?

He needed some time to find words, so instead your smile widened and you faked surprise:

- Is she the same girl whose hair you ripped out?

Gwen threw annoyed look at Miles who looked just as guilty as when it first happened.

- I have to say though, you can’t even see any difference, - you said when it was very clear that you could definitely see the shaved side of her head.

his love language being words of affirmation – especially after you found out he was Spider-Man and supported him no questions asked, he always let you know how much he appreciated you as his friend

when you first found out he’s Spider-Man, you got him a Spider-Man Halloween costume for his birthday and gifted it to him in front of his parents with a note attached just for him (and watched with satisfaction as Miles read “in case you ever need a backup” written on the paper)

if you’re taller than him – constantly testing his patience by reminding him by how much exactly he’s shorter than you – even though he’s a superhero and all that...

getting a driver’s licence before Miles – him being a very nervous driver so you take it upon yourself to teach him (and his dad being impressed by how much better he seems to get every time he’s driving with his son)

at one point, Miles’ dad to would catch you after you had thrown up some graffiti of your own but since you refused to call your folks because you knew they would be very, very mad, he would just sigh in annoyance and let you go with a warning

- If I catch you bragging about this to Miles, you’ll be right back here!

you making and selling Spider-Man merch but putting the most embarrassing photos of Miles on it just to annoy him

- Is that... Is that a photo of me with two birds glued to my hands?

- I believe that real life situations create the most amazing art, dude!

Jessica Drew

being constantly worried for her safety when she’s both pregnant and saving the city every day

You had developed a habit of becoming her designated driver so she wouldn’t swing back home on her webs.

- Hey, - you called out to your friend as soon as she had given her statement about the robbery to the police. – Get in!

You opened the passenger side door of your car.

Jessica had to take a double look when she saw you just casually waiting to pick her up after a fight.

- Y/N? – she looked around surprised. – What are you doing here?

- Apparently, I’m giving a ride home to a reckless pregnant lady, - you yawned and pointed to the passenger seat. – In.

She walked around and got in – really no point in refusing a free ride home when you’re already here.

- Are you in your pajamas? – she looked you over when you started the car.

- It’s one in the morning, - you pulled out of the parking lot. – Of course, I’m wearing pajamas.

- How did you even know where I was?

- I have a Spidey-sense of my own that’s called “my best friend is back on some bullshit that police could’ve sorted out themselves”, - you yawned again and then pointed towards her. – I have tracker in your boot’s heel.

Jessica’s love language being acts of service – which was matching to yours; essentially both of you doing little things for one another (you always dropping her off and picking her back up for any and all pregnancy-related appointments, her making more food so it’s enough for you too, her texting you where there’s less traffic while going about her day as Spider-Woman so you can get to work easier, you later on becoming a godmother/ godfather for her baby and spoiling that child to no end)

saying goodbye to each other like a married couple

- Drive safe, honey! Text me when you’re home!

- I will, darling! Love ya!

Earth-42!Miles Morales

becoming friends after you accidentally caught him in one of your security system traps that you had been developing

- Oh so it works, - you muttered under your breath, as Miles watched you press some buttons on your tablet. – This prototype alone, if sold, could get me a nice apart-

- Hey! – you turned towards where the intruder was trapped in your artificial web trap. – I really don’t have time for this bullshi-

You knew the Prowler. Or, more specifically, you had heard of him. At that point, you had never actually seen him in person. And you weren’t actually seeing him now – he was still in his suit.

- You broke into my lab, - you clarified. – Do you think I have time for your bullshit?

Instead of panicking, calling the security or the police, you simply put down the tablet, kicked your feet up on the table in front of you and opened a juice box.

For a small moment, the intruder stopped struggling, as if too bewildered by your reaction.

You raised your eyebrows, awaiting some sort of a threat or question...

- How are you even here? – a low voice – no doubt changed by a voice modulator – asked. – It’s a national holiday. No one was supposed to be here!

- Oh yeah, - you threw your empty juice box over the lab, straight into trash. – My boss made me stay overnight. Apparently, the security system prototype was supposed to be ready yesterday but I had taken a sick day so...

- What an asshole, - your captive murmured under his breath.

- Ain’t that the truth, - you agreed. – So, what are you after, - you looked into your tablet one more time before adding, - Miles Morales.

He was definitely surprised. After the initial shock, he took off his mask.

- How did you know who I am?

- I didn’t, - you turned your tablet towards him. – Well, not until my webs touched you and pulled any and all DNA data they could from you. Then, the program ran diagnostics through all collected DNA data from all over the world and – boom – a genetics match found identical to Miles Morales!

getting along very well with his uncle – something that Miles says annoys him but secretly he enjoys having more people that resemble a family to him, especially since his dad is gone

his love language being gift giving – Earth-42!Miles getting you a particular part for your tech that you’ve been looking for all over the city but instead of saying something – anything – he would just awkwardly thrust it into your hands, murmur something along the lines of “I got this for you” and immediately leave

if you’re single on Valentine’s day, you would order a pizza and hang around with Miles – he would say it’s sad that you have to hang out with your best friend but would actually appreciate the company

Gwen Stacy

taking dozens of photos of Gwen’s hair after the-Miles-incident where she had some of her hair ripped out

- No, stop! – Gwen tried to slap your phone out of your hand. – This is humiliating enough without lasting evidence!

- This is gonna be my Christmas card this year!

to outsiders it looks like you don’t like each other at all – both of you constantly bickering like siblings and yelling like a married couple; and both of you being surprised and taken aback when somebody genuinely points out that you should be nicer to one another (and immediately laughing when anyone assumes you hate each other...)

·       you always rely on Gwen to tell you the truth – no matter how harsh it is

- I think it went over well, - you said, as soon as your crush had left your lunch table.

When she hadn’t said anything, you turned to see her watching you with a blank look on her face.

- Your kidding, right? – she raised an eyebrow. – It was so awkward to watch I would’ve chosen to watch paint dry! That guy’s a dick! How can you even like that moron?

essentially having lots of your stuff over at her place and lots of her things at yours – and it’s gotten to a point where both of you have freed some space up in your desks, closets and dressers for your friend to comfortably leave their things in

constantly staying over at the other’s place – both your and her parents no longer surprised when one of you emerge to eat breakfast with everybody else there

Gwen’s love language being physical touch – especially if she’s nervous or anxious, she would wrap her pinky finger around yours just to know that you’re there

Pavitr Prabhakar

forever and always saying “Chai tea” just to piss him off

- Let’s get some Chai tea!

- Say it right and we might.

- I got you some Chai tea!

- I’m not drinking it if you keep saying it wrong!

- You know what I’m craving? Ch-

- I swear to god-

one of you constantly finding and perfecting some sort of a “talent” or “skill” – like juggling or doing a headstand – and the other one always trying to ruin the performance by knocking out one of the balls while juggling or making the other fall while doing a headstand

Pav’s love language being giving gifts – especially food; with him being Spider-Man, you would often text him while he was running errands and keeping peace all over the city to ask him to get you a particular snack (at some point, he had memorized your favorite places and would just get you something even before you asked – especially if he needed a favour from you and wanted to butter you up before asking...)

fighting for the sake of fighting

- YOU’RE SO WRONG! HOW CAN YOU NOT SEE HOW WRONG YOU ARE!?

- ACTUALLY, I REALIZED I WAS WRONG, LIKE, TEN MINUTES AGO! BUT THEN YOU SAID SOME DUMB SHIT AND I DECIDED THAT I COULDN’T LET YOU WIN!

him accidentally pushing you out of the first story window when his crush unexpectedly came over and you were asleep on his couch (insert: Cameron Diaz’s character in The Other Woman being pushed out of the window) and you bringing it up any time you need a favor from him

- I can’t just do that! That’s borderline a crime!

- So is throwing your friend out of a window, Pav!

[canisalbus]

I imagine Machete's really only calm when he's sleep deprived AF and Vasco would just spend long nights listening to Machete's insane ramblings because he likes seeing him happy.

That's such a cute thought! Unfortunately I'm inclined to believe it's the complete opposite, insomnia makes him progressively more restless and agitated.

You know how after a sleepless night you sometimes get this second wind in the morning? You feel even more productive and motivated than you usually do and aren't tired at all, like a brief illusion of euphoria and invincibility. I think if he skips sleep he might initially get more self-assured, talkative and less inhibited (similar to being a little tipsy). This is probably the point where you might get those insane ramblings. But eventually he'd start going downhill and the cushioning that softens the edges of his anxiety, irratibility and neuroticism when he's in good health and good mood, would wear away and he'd become harder to deal with. He'd make rash desisions and obvious mistakes and get emotional outbursts that he'd regret later. And finally he'd fall into sort of confused, irresponsive and stuporous state where he's still trying to keep going but isn't actually getting anything done anymore, it isn't fun to watch.

He's happiest, calmest and at his best when he's well rested and properly fed. He's able to keep himself running on fumes for a considerable amount of time, mostly by taking several short sneaky naps per day. Rationally he knows this is detrimental to him and that he ends up doing subpar job when he'd tired and cranky, but it's a bad habit that seems impossible to correct.

[junicult]

contains ; entirely fluff! sfw! budding relationship. fem!farmer. sam teaches u how to skateboard <33. drabble.

note ; it breaks my heart that it doesn’t seem obvious sam is one of my favs. i need the world to know.

a new farmer moving into town didn’t mean much to a few neighborhood ears.

there was chatter about how eager the older residents were to meeting the person who would clean up the old farm. people were interested in seeing a new face, but it wasn’t like anyone was pleading for it.

overall, everyone was a little bit surprised when the new farmer happened to be a pleasant, youthful woman taking her grandfathers old cottage.

especially with how eager you were to introduce yourself.

spending the majority of your days wandering around town, trying to catch any new face and at least learn enough about them to be use it as an excuse to see them again.

it might’ve been viewed as a bit irresponsible at first, especially to some. this was the person who was trying to fix up the old farm?

it seemed like a waste. but you were sweet enough that it was only a passing observation to a few.

which is probably why it came as a shock when you’d be seen in the weirdest of places—crawling from the mines covered in soot and rock, lugging large fish around in the smallest backpack, eating seemingly inedible items found off the ground.

and although you started to become quiet chatter to the town, you didn’t seem to care. maybe you didn’t even notice.

you were a nice sight to a few, at least.

sam liked you pretty quickly. he’ll like anyone if they’re kind to him, that’s for sure.

you were special though. the first time you met, it was beyond comprehension to step outside of his room and see a stranger laughing with his mom and little brother in his kitchen.

“oh, sam, this is the new farmer. this is my son, sam.” jodi so kindly introduced for you, catching the blonde in a bit of a shock so soon after he woke up.

and despite that short interaction, you’d still go out of your way to say hello any chance you had.

“what kind of fish is that?” sam called as he approached you calmly, finding you at the river on his way home from work.

you turn, a little startled from the sudden voice that caused you to flinch, losing your grip, and send said fish back into the river out of your hands.

your shoulders slouch while your eyes following it, swimming down the stream, a little frown on your cheeks that enabled his quick apology.

“oh! i didn’t mean to scare you,” he chuckles for just a second, “i’m sorry, i owe you a fish!”

you face the blonde who approached your side, shaking your head. “you owe me a sunfish, actually.” you give a small smile, “good quality too. lost some precious gold on that bad boy.”

“then i really owe you a sunfish.” he rubs the back of his neck with a laugh. “sorry about that, though.”

“it’s fine. i’m super tired anyways, and it wasn’t that good of a sunfish.” you sigh, bringing yourself to your feet and reaching for your bag you left resting beside you, slipping it over your shoulder.

your eyes glance to the man beside you, a quick once over and the question falls from your lips, “what’re you wearing?”

he looks down at his shirt like he doesn’t remember, before he perks up. “oh! this is my work shirt—i work at jojamart.”

“oh really?”

“mhm! just finished, actually.”

“what do you do there?”

he straightens his posture just a little, keeping eye contact on you with the same boyish grin on his cheeks. “i’m a janitor, usually.”

“ah, so you’re good at cleaning?” you hum.

he laughs. “my mom might disagree.”

his reply earns a small laugh from you, one that makes his smile only grow after hearing.

after which you shoot off a couple goodbyes, turning around to head back through cindersap to make your way home. he’s still smiling after he manages to sidestep his mom’s curiosity, the fleeting interaction on his mind just a bit longer.

and the next few days were full of the same quick interactions; all of which he was looking forward to more and more.

you were always doing something, he would always ask a question about it, and it’d move on from there.

quick, but enjoyable. might’ve even started to become his favorite part of the day.

“you can skateboard?”

the familiar call of your soft voice, slightly raised only to catch his attention quicker made him around in surprise.

just by chance, he happened to be mid-failed kick-flip.

it felt like deja vu when you tease, “oo, maybe not.”

“you caught me at a bad attempt!” he justifies, painting the grin you’ve become acquainted with when he pauses to face you.

you came walking from the forest beside his house, catching him in the middle of his hobby, asking him a question instead of the other way around.

your backpack characteristically rests on your shoulders, large and full just as similarly. it’s almost distracting just how heavy it always looks, but still, you’re rarely seen without it.

he keeps his foot resting on the board just so it doesn’t roll away, yet his attention was now entirely focused on you.

“and for your information, i can skateboard.” he boasts properly, in a way that doesn’t scream douchey, only deserving.

you click your tongue, approaching him. “i dunno…from the looks of it, it seems you don’t really know what you’re doing…”

his jaw drops, feigning offense. “if you’re so good, why don’t you give it a try then!”

he picks up his shoe, taking a step back as if to say, “prove it.”

your eyes flicker to the board, mouth twitching as you formed the words to counter, only to then just stop when you realize you definitely can’t prove it.

your hesitance did nothing to falter sam’s inevitable smile. instead, it turned into a faint smirk, and a short chuckle that lead his arms crossing over his chest.

“you can’t skateboard?” he says more so then asks.

his words could sound condescending, but there’s nothing rude in the tone he uses to speak to you. in fact, it’s all just genuine curiosity.

“…maybe. who’s to say i have the time to learn?” you shrug, pursing your lips.

he unravels his arms, stepping over his board once again to slide it back in front of him.

“well, do you?” he word-vomits.

no. you don’t. you have an actual job that requires a lot of attention, and time-management. you’re lugging around a backpack full of supplies that probably need to be given to someone before their shop closes, yet here he is asking if you can spare just a few extra minutes of your day to stand on his skateboard, of all things.

it’s only when you give him a look that causes his smile to falter. it’s a short one, one he can’t read, yet it somehow gives him enough time to feel his heart drop just a few inches, and enough time for the nevermind to form on his tongue and nearly fall out before—

“alright, why not?”

he could sigh of relief when you slide the bag down your arms, dropping it just a couple feet away.

“but i gotta know i’m in safe hands, first. do a trick or something.” you easily ask as a joke, but he doesn’t take it as such.

he’s already prepared to hop on the board. the tip of his foot presses against the back, pausing for a moment before he quickly bends his knees, and jumps a couple feet in the air, the board following just under his feet before he lands within seconds.

and by the time he does, he’s grinning like he accomplished something huge, opening his arms in a silent, “ta-da!” manor.

you laugh. “alright, i shouldn’t of doubted you.”

“that’s right! you’re in the safest of hands, that’s for sure.” he takes a step off, leaving the board vacant just for you.

it’s obvious you’re only a little bit nervous; and frankly, that upsets you a tad.

why? you’re not sure. you explore caves like it’s nothing, kill monsters like it’s a regular day. falling off a little skateboard won’t do much besides a little bruise on your butt, or scrape on your knee.

yet you look down at the board like you’re intimidated by it. like it has the ability to purposely knock you off, make you look like a fool in front of the guy you spend a bit too much time thinking about.

“don’t worry, you won’t fall. i promise, i won’t let that happen.” he sweetly reassures, almost like he can read your mind.

you glance into his eyes, scanning for sincerity despite knowing it was already there.

you take one step closer, close enough that you’re both nearly sandwiching the board on the ground.

you can blame it on instinct—because it actually was—when your arms reach out for him to latch onto.

he can do the same when his hands grip the undersides of your forearms, using minimal strength to ensure your safety. both of your eyes fall to your shoes, waiting for you to raise your leg and press against the board.

it takes you just another few seconds to lift your stabilizing foot off the concrete, instantly tightening his hold on you.

you start to wobble, and the height plus the instability makes it easy for you to latch onto him too.

“you’re okay! see, it’s not too bad!” he continues to reassure.

despite your gaze never leaving your feet, he’s finding his focus to be glued to your face.

whether he’s scanning for any sign that you’re uncomfortable, or using that as an excuse to look at you so up close, his gaze remains soft and understanding.

“do you want to try to move?”

you nod, silently scanning the concrete for any minor obstructions that could potentially get in your way, clog the wheel, and send you flying.

he takes one small step to the side, appropriately accustomed to your liking, and because of your solid grips on one another, that short step has you moving with him.

“why can’t i stand still?” you frown, almost sounding annoyed at yourself.

“because your feet are too close together. you gotta balance on the weight of the board. like this,” he demonstrates by showing you exactly what you should be doing, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach when you hold on even tighter (like that was possible) to recreate his exact stance.

you start to grin when his advice works.

“see, there you go. you wanna move a little further?”

you nod almost instantly, the elation of how well this is progressing for you making you eager.

he repeats the same action as before; this time taking a few more steps to the side to drag you along—each of which you let out a noise of excitement.

your grip calmly loosens the further he walks you, while his does nothing to falter. he picks his speed up when you show a bit more confidence, and slows down when you show hesitation.

he works with how you’re feeling, even if you don’t say anything. and although you’re silent, it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“you think i can let go?” he asks softly, glancing up at you.

instantaneously, your eyes widen in fear nearly the same second you feel bold enough to nod your head.

“okay, you’ll be fine. i’ll still be here.”

there’s something so shocking at how gently he speaks to you. it’s peaceful, his tone perfect to calm and ease you, like he’s done this before.

which shouldn’t be such a surprise. sam’s a sweet guy, who clearly cares for the people around him. you’ve spent enough fleeting moments together to know that already, plus how much jodi will talk your ear off about him. vincent too. it was one of the first things you noticed about him.

he’s so delicate when he takes a step back, slowly removing his hands from your arms, even after you nervously clutch him for just a fleeting second.

and when he’s fully let you go, you turn into a deer in headlights, frozen on the board that’s ever so slightly rolling to the side.

his stifled laugh makes you purse your lips, glaring over at him.

“see, you’re a natural!”

you both know he’s lying.

“how do i move?”

“you have to kick your feet.”

you don’t do that. instead, you reach both hands to the side, and grip the air like you’re tugging on a rope, moving one inch forward.

and even then you lose your balance just a tad, unattractively allowing your arms to flail forward like you’re begging for him to hold onto you again before you fall.

the laugh he lets out falls louder then before, sounding more like a wheeze as he emphasizes, “it’s okay, i got you, i got you,” while your nails dig into the fabric of his jacket.

“what do you mean kick my feet?!”

he’s still laughing, “you have to drop one foot off, push against the ground and hop back on.”

it sounds easy enough, but for some reason the simplest task makes your eyes widen, jaw fall ajar like he just offended you personally.

he takes a second to explain it, slower this time. his patience was another thing that’s adding a little tally of interest in your mind.

you carefully step off when he offers to show you, making room for him to hop on almost like it was second nature, kick against the concrete, and skillfully swings back into place while he glides like he’s showing off.

he does the same thing to bring the board back over to you.

“easy peasy. anyone can do it!”

you slouch, pursing the tiny frown on your cheeks once you realized it was showing.

you reach out just like before, waiting for him to help, which he does. you align your feet just like before, waiting a few moments before you give him a nod that tells him he can let go. even though he’s not holding onto you, he still keeps his hands out so they’re easy to reach just in case.

your trial and error only takes a couple tries, both of which ended with you nervously hopping off before you could hurt yourself, despite sam’s watchful eye and the fact that he’d never let that happen.

but by your third attempt, blood flowing with determination, you take a slow deep breath like you’re preparing for an important race.

you give yourself one short push off the ground, swinging your leg just like he taught you back onto the board while you slide across the ground.

before you even stopped, your eyes lit up, an immediate smile widening on your cheeks at the realization that you finally did it.

“you’re a pro!” sam loudly cheers, clearly just as ecstatic as you.

both of your reactions match up—squealing before you even hop off the board, throwing your arms up triumphantly.

you didn’t even go very far, less then 10 feet away. but he’s still jogging towards you like you won an olympic gold metal.

“told you you could do it, what did i say?” the way he animatedly moves his arms makes you laugh.

and maybe he was reaching his hand out for a simple, measly high-five, but you fall further then that.

still giggling, grinning till your cheeks ache in pain, your arms swing around his neck.

yet he didn’t even hesitate to wrap his own around your torso.

you hardly did anything. you hardly moved. you’ve only been learning for about fifteen minutes. it’s not like you deserve this much praise, but there’s no way he would agree.

his constant expressions of how proud he was fell straight to your heart, because you knew he meant it.

it takes another moment before you pull away, allowing your plump cheeks to be his main focus.

“that was really fun. i need to get back to work though, clint’s closes in less then an hour.” you sigh, shooting a short glance over the blonde’s shoulder to check your if your bag had somehow disappeared.

“i’m glad you spared some time.”

“me too. maybe next time you can teach me that little trick you did.”

his eyes follow as you walk towards your backpack, reaching down to once again slot it over your shoulders as usual.

his plump, flush cheeks widen.

“looking forward to it.”

[markliving]

A KISS HEALS EVERYTHING

pairing: jason tood x reader

warnings: just fluff, mention of injuries but it's all fine. english is not my first language, so sorry if this have some errors

word count: 1076

masterlist

Jason was a strong man, not only because he was a tall person, but also because of everything he went through in his 23 years. However, it was strong, but not unbeatable. He had discovered this a long time ago, but he still preferred to pretend that nothing had happened, especially this time.

Alfred, however, upon receiving him last night with an open wound, considered serious, and several bruises on his body, made the young man spend the night at the mansion and called you, letting you know that your boyfriend, this time, was not returning to home and asked if you could stop by the mansion in the morning.

The morning after the incident, you entered the doors of the huge mansion, greeted by the butler and a small smile coming from the man. He knew that sooner or later you would arrive, after all, it was like that every time, and it was the only way he found to leave Jason, in some way, quiet.

Damian, who was sitting on the huge sofa in the living room, caressing Titus, after doing a trick that the boy was teaching him, smiled mischievously when he saw you. You were one of the few people that, apparently, he liked, leaving the other brothers a little jealous with the relationship that the two of you created in such a short time, which at first, according to Damian, was just to make fun of his older brother’s, but it became a brother and sister relationship between the two of you.

“Jason again, huh?” you stopped walking as soon as you heard the boy's voice and turned towards him, smiling. “I still wonder every day what it was you saw in him.”

“Love is something misunderstood” you replied, earning a laugh from the other.

You climbed the huge stairs, which led to the top floor, turned to the left side as soon as you reached the top, where there were the rooms of those who lived in the house and also those who had already left, but who were left exactly the way they came out. You went through the first door, which you knew was Tim's, and entered the second one, right next door.

The room was completely dark, the curtains closed, no lamps on, or cell phone lights. It was after ten in the morning, from what you remembered, and if you knew well, at that time Jason would be disturbing someone, you in this case, normally. Apparently Alfred had given him something strong.

“Jason” you called, approaching the bed and sitting on the edge. Now, accustomed to the darkness, you noticed that the man slept without his top on, showing the bandage around his stomach.

You had seen him like this several times, hurt, and every time it was heartbreaking. When you met the man, when he was still Robin, at school, you knew that despite his rogue appearance, Jason had a good heart. And as time passed, and he hadn't been kind to the boy at all, it only helped to confirm what you already thought.

“Jason” you called a little louder, receiving a groan of dissatisfaction from him.

You touched Jason's foot, about to shake it, but you were startled, as was Jason, who jumped when he felt a cold hand touch his foot.

“I thought you died” you commented, mocking the boy and mentally cursing him for the scare he had given you.

“Look who's talking, your hand looks just like one of them” he replied, shifting, sitting, in a position that didn't hurt his abdomen so much.

The night had been long. After spending more than an hour in the cave with Alfred patching him up and receiving a big lecture about how irresponsible he had been on patrol not only by the butler, but also by Bruce, who was looking at the scene in a bit of despair — he needed a very strong painkiller to get it close your eyes and sleep for a few hours, but you didn't count on Alfred calling you for some reason.

“Very funny you.” He showed his tongue. “How are you?” you asked him, worried.

Jason looked down at the bandages on his torso. He wishes he could say that he was used to bruises and the pain he felt, but it was a lie. It seemed that after the Lazarus pit, even though he had gained some resistance, each cut hurt more, not just physical pain, but mental pain, which as time went by was getting better.

"It doesn't hurt that much, I think the medicine is still working." He shrugged.

You climbed completely onto the bed and sat next to him, analyzing his features face to face. You knew it hurt like hell and that he just wanted to maintain his tough-guy pose, but you didn't care, after all, he was right there in front of you.

You were scared to death that one day, just like a few years ago, he would leave, and that feeling, which resided in your heart at times, only left when you heard Jason's voice in front of you, saying that he was fine and that Soon he would be home. But every time you get a call from a family member in the middle of the night, you're pretty sure your heart misses a few beats, and not in a good way.

“I'm sorry” Jason whispered, noticing the melancholy that surrounded you. “I'm sorry, I didn't want to worry you.” He placed one of his hands on his cheek, stroking the area in the form of comfort, receiving a smile in return.

“It's good to know you're okay, I almost had a meltdown when Alfred called me” you said, taking his free hand and placing a kiss on the back of it.

The two of you spent a few minutes looking at each other, trapped in your own thoughts, until Jason spoke again.

“You know... there's a place that's still hurting a lot.” He pouted, putting his plan into action, he knew that a real smile was about to leave your's lips.

“Where?” you frowned, starting to worry a little more.

“Here.” Without letting go of your hand, he brought your hand to his lips.

As soon as you realized what his deal was, you laughed out loud.

“Do you want a kiss to get better faster?” you asked and received a quick yes from Jason.

[teyums]

can i request lo’ak and reader get into a big argument that leads to them not talking for a while but lo’ak gets into an accident during battle and they work things out? im in need of some lo’ak angst 😖

a/n: i literally live for angst wc: 3,124

“Forgive me.”

pairing: lo’ak x fem! na’vi reader

contains: angst but ends with fluff, slight use of language

“Why do you have to be so reckless all the time? Your actions affect other people too, Lo’ak!”

You chased after your mate as he angrily stalked away from you and into your tent, but you were quick to enter after him before he could abandon the conversation.

“Do you ever stop and ask yourself how I feel when you do stuff like this?”

He spun around to face you, hands tossed in the air in aggravation before they went to hold his head.

“I just- God, not everything is about you, Y/n! Every time we fight about this it’s just you, you, you! Why the hell do you care so much, anyway?”

To say that the argument you and Lo’ak had wasn’t pretty would be an understatement. It was downright hideous. The both of you yelling at the other, feeling unheard no matter how much you raised your voices.

You’re frustrated beyond imaginable. It’s like nothing you say ever gets through to him, no matter what approach you take.

You’d sat down with him so many times to let him know you were always there if he wanted to talk. That it was okay to express his emotions, to uproot them and get them off his chest, instead of burying them. And of course, it didn’t work. He’d simply brushed you off, got up from his seat and told you it was no big deal. But if it was bothering him, then to you, it was a big deal.

He’d been making some pretty irresponsible decisions lately, a couple that nearly landed him in the Tsahik’s tent more times than you could count. He’d disappear into the forest, sometimes even after eclipse, without letting anyone know where he was headed.

Anytime he got into it with his father, he’d leave you pacing up and down your shared tent, worried about his safety and praying he hadn’t ran into more trouble. Sometimes you managed to stay up until he returned, and still you’d welcome him with open arms regardless of the fear he’d put you through for hours. And other times he’d be gone for so long that you would accidentally doze off and spend the night alone, just to wake the next morning to Lo’ak still unwilling to have a conversation about what was going on with him.

He was your mate, and he had the nerve to ask you why you cared about him?

The ridiculous question had temporarily addled you, and you stepped back a bit in slight shock as you shook your head at him.

“I- I care because I love you, Lo’ak. And I miss you… it feels like you aren’t even here anymore. I’m only trying to help.”

Your words faded to a murmur and your hand went to rub at your arm. Your face grew hot and you suddenly felt embarrassed, running after him like a lost puppy to tell him something he already knew. The agitated look on his face had you feeling smaller than ever; you felt like a nuisance.

He huffed out what was meant to be a laugh before responding to you, and your brows furled at his careless demeanor.

“Dealing with my dad nagging on me is enough, so maybe if you’d just get off my ass for two goddamned seconds I’d actually want to be around more.”

He didn’t mean it. You knew he didn’t mean it. Hell, he knew he didn’t mean it. It was his father who made him feel this way and he’d simply misdirected his anger at you. He regretted saying such a thing almost as soon as he realized what words his brain had decided to form. But that didn’t stop the tears from breaking through the puddle of moisture that’d already been forming in your eyes, and it sure as hell didn’t stop you from harshly tearing your bicep from his grasp when he grabbed onto it in hopes of taking back what he said.

His shoulders drooped as your cheeks quickly dampened, and he approached you with what would’ve been an apology, if the harsh shove you’d sent against his chest hadn’t caused his voice to catch in his throat.

“Fuck you, Lo’ak.”

It spat like venom from your tongue— some of the last words you’d spoken to him that day had too been ones you didn’t mean. But in the heat of your anger, all your hurt, you didn’t know what else to say.

The truth was, Lo’ak just wasn’t used to people checking up on him the way you would.

It was the same old routine. His dad would yell at him, his mom would give him a silent look of disapproval even if his dad had gone a little too far with the scolding, then he’d run off and hide out for the rest of the day to avoid any further confrontation.

They’d given up on him a long time ago. No one would ask where he went, how long he’d been gone, or even inquire if he was okay after taking such a talking to. That was, until you came along. But for years he’d worked so hard on coaching himself not to care, his tear stained face that’d gone unwiped a constant reminder that he didn’t need anyone but himself.

But you… you’re just so nurturing, so understanding. You’re always worried about him and he doesn’t know how to handle it. It’s the look in your eyes when you stroke his cheek and ask him what’s wrong, it’s like you can see right through the facade everyone else is fooled by. The mask of indifference he puts on is never enough to throw you off his trail or quell your concern.

And it’s scary honestly, how quickly you can have him facing his emotions instead of running from them. He should embrace having someone like you by his side, someone who’s willing to walk through the good and the bad right with him. But Lo’ak was never good at doing what he was supposed to do.

He’d broken through the curtained entrance to your home almost two hours after the argument, stopping dead in his tracks once his eyes had fallen to the sight of you shoving some of your belongings into a sack. The question you’d been dreading came immediately, but you insisted through a tremored voice that you thought staying with your parents for a few days would be best, to give each other space.

And all he did was nod. Because what else could he do? Take back the sentence that’d probably been ringing in your head for hours already? While he did exactly what you two had just argued over, stormed out and disappeared without any information of his whereabouts for who knows how long? You were tired of it, and he wouldn’t be surprised if you were tired of him too.

________

Days went by, but to Lo’ak it felt like years without being able to do so much as hold your hand. Getting close to you proved to be impossible, and he wondered how you’d become so much better at avoiding others than he was.

He harbored way too much pride to try and ask his mother for advice, but he couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t considering it with how much this was all starting to hurt. Every time your eyes would catch his from across the common grounds, his heart would swell with a gust of hope, only for it to deflate when you’d quickly tear them away, your feet always quick to start off in the opposite direction whenever he’d begin to approach you.

After that, you avoided every place you knew Lo’ak would be, and of course Kiri wouldn’t budge when he asked if she’d seen you around. He’d even gone to your parents’ hut to find you and apologize, just to not make it up the first step when your younger sister had stopped him before he could come any closer to the entrance. With an uncertain look of remorse and her hands behind her back, she insisted that she was instructed to inform him that you didn’t want to see him.

Lo’ak wanted nothing more than to hold you, to comfort you and apologize for everything he’d done and then some. But every failed attempt to reconcile further reminded him of the night you told him you wanted space, and while he tried to respect your wishes, he just couldn’t understand them.

You were usually a stickler for communication, and he wasn’t used to being avoided like this because you were always the one tracking him down. Before this happened, you constantly insisted on talking things out and you were never one to let an argument go on for more than a day, which is why he was left so confused once it reached the second day of silence.

He was too blind to realize why you’d been acting this way until Neteyam reminded him that this is exactly what he’d been doing to you— and that’s when it finally dawned on him. He hated the taste of his own medicine, because being ignored by the one you love is far more bitter than he could’ve ever imagined. The weight of his actions had finally set in, and he’d never felt more like an asshole than he did in that moment.

______

Eclipse has long passed and the hut is quiet, painfully quiet. Lo’ak’s heart twinges a little everytime he turns his head to the side, bleary eyes expecting to meet your sleeping form curled up next to him, only for them to mull over the dreaded emptiness that’s occupied your side of the bed for three days now.

Each grueling hour has given him a glimpse of what you’ve been enduring for weeks and he fucking hates it.

He tosses and turns for a bit until he uncomfortably wallows in the realization that he won’t be getting any sleep tonight. The arms that should’ve been holding you close to his chest are stretched outwards, his gaze glued to the ceiling while his mind keeps him awake with endless guilt over what he’d said. How hurt you looked when he’d been dumb enough to make you feel like a burden, all because he couldn’t handle his own emotions. Maybe he’d finally pushed you far enough, far enough to give up on him like everyone else had. And the worst part is, he has no one to blame other than himself, like always.

_______

You were never one to hold grudges for long, this you knew. But that really became fact once you found yourself whisking through the crowd faster than you thought your feet would ever carry you. Yelling out hasty apologies and ‘excuse me’s to the air, too anxious to reach your destination to actually turn around and direct it towards those you’d bumped into.

You should’ve known something was wrong when you asked around earlier and found out the war party had yet to return; they’d stayed out almost an hour past their estimated arrival back to the village and everyone waited anxiously for an update.

You went back to your hut and tried to remain positive. You told yourself you were worrying over nothing, that everything was fine and maybe things had just taken longer than expected— mostly because you were too afraid to page Lo’ak in fear of pushing him away even more due to your supposed overbearing nature.

But when it was Kiri who’d come to fetch you with slightly widened eyes, no words were needed for you to shoot up to your feet, because her alarmed expression was enough to tell you that something had happened to him.

Everyone’s head snaps to the doorway once you break through the flaps to the infirmary, and even Neytiri stops tending to Neteyam’s wounds for a breath as she looks up at you. Your chest is heaving, your eyes frantic in their search for Lo’ak. She’s well aware of the latest predicament his stubbornness has gotten himself into with you, and it’s hard for her to fathom how her youngest son managed to mate with one of the most caring girls in the village.

“Where is he?” You’re breathless from your sprint but you hadn’t noticed, your mind is racing with a million possibilities that you’re trying to put a stop to.

Mo’at simply nods her head, willing to look past your lack of a respectful greeting for obvious reasons.

“This way, child.”

You follow closely behind her, nervously picking at the skin of your fingers as you spot numerous wounded warriors resting in cots, your heart drops as the intensity of wounds only progress as you continue walking.

Too busy ogling at the severity of injuries, you nearly come face first with Mo’at’s back when her strides suddenly halt. A sheet is pulled back to reveal your wounded mate and you gasp, a hand shooting up to cover your mouth as your eyes widen, but Mo’at is silent and only ushers you in with a hand.

You rush to Lo’ak’s side immediately and carefully kneel next to his body, eyes softening at his unconscious state. Your first instinct is to reach out and touch him, but your hand hesitates once you catch sight of his torso bandaged over, the thick gauze slightly stained with deep crimson. Your head swings up, eyes pleading to Tsahik for answers before your mouth can.

“Though my grandson is injured, he is also very lucky. A demon airship went unspotted, however the blast managed to miss him by a few feet.”

Your lips purse as you try not to imagine the scene in your mind, your gaze sweeping over his wounds one last time before it lands on his face, littered with tiny scrapes and grazes you assume are from shrapnel.

“Oh, Lo’ak…” You murmur, your touch featherlight as you gently caress his temple. You position yourself behind him and carefully slide your hands beneath his head before you lift it, allowing it to rest atop your thighs to make him as comfortable as possible.

Mo’at watches carefully. You and Lo’ak are a mated pair under Eywa, so she was immediately able to feel the dissonance that had brewed between you two the moment you stepped into the infirmary. Though she was more than pleased to see that whatever had occurred proved to be insignificant the moment you saw him.

“His body took quite the beating, so he will be asleep for a while. You are welcome to stay if you please.”

And with that she leaves the both of you alone, though she’s not sure you heard her with how focused you are on making sure the rise and fall of his chest remains steady.

You sat with Lo’ak like that for almost four hours, too restless to close your eyes for more than a few minutes in fear that you’d miss something. A slightly louder exhale through his nostrils would have your lids snapping back open and your gaze darting over his form, only for you to sigh once you’d realize he was still asleep. You’re sure it’s night now, but you haven’t gotten up to check, let alone eat because you can’t bring yourself to leave him.

When your legs finally grew numb to the point your skin felt it was being pricked with needles, you decided to place a cushion under his head instead to give your muscles a break.

And now you’re perched against the wall with your knees to your chest, your chin resting atop them and you don’t know when you dozed off or for how long, but the sound of him groaning has you alert instantly.

Your eyes shoot open and catch sight of him stirring from his sleep against the mat, every speck of drowsiness washed from your body in a split second.

“Oh my- Lo’ak!” You scramble to your hands and knees and crawl your way towards him, ignoring the scrape of wood along your skin. Your heart’s beating a mile a minute, but he finally comes to and you whisper an array of hushed thank yous to the great mother while you carefully wipe the sweat from his temple with a nearby cloth.

In a daze he tries to sit up, but winces at the movement as his injuries instantly make themselves known. He groans in pain and moves to reach for his side as his other arm struggles to prop him up, though it only exacerbates his discomfort.

“No, no,” You’re quick to press a hand to his chest, gently guiding him back down to the mat despite his reluctancy. “You must rest.”

He hastily blinks the mist from his view when he hears your voice, an incredulous look on his pain-strained face the moment his mind is clear enough to recognize your features.

“Y/n? What happened?” His voice is groggy and he’s inclined to take a look around, but his head is pounding and he can’t seem to take his eyes off you. You were last person he expected to see at his side, especially with how he’d been treating you lately.

“There was a blast, and you… You’re hurt, Lo’ak. Eywa, I was so worried, you’ve been asleep for hours.” Reaching down to grab his hand in both of yours, you bring it close to your heart and give him a saddened smile.

His brows bunch together in the middle and he’s almost certain he’s heard you incorrectly. It’s like he can’t believe you’re even touching him, with the way his eyes bounce back and forth from his hand against your chest to the sincere expression you wear.

“You- you’ve been here the whole time?” He asks.

Your head tilts in question, and it’s then made clear to him that what happened a few days ago has flung so far from your focus due to his injured state.

“Yes, of course I have… Why wouldn’t I be?” You blink.

He sighs and looks away, as if he’s contemplating whether he should even bring it up and risk upsetting you all over again. “Our argument, what I said that night I… I thought you hated me.” His voice cracks as he brings his eyes back to yours, and the tears welling in them send a splinter through your heart. “I thought you weren’t gonna come back.”

“Stop it,” You shake your head vehemently, nearly hard enough to give yourself a headache. “Please, do not say such things. I could never hate you, Lo’ak. We both said some things we didn’t mean and I-“

“No, No. Don’t do that.” He’s quick to cut you off and sits up regardless of your immediate warning against it, but he insists, so you brace a hand along his back to help him. He sucks a sharp breath in through his teeth, the effort of moving being more tasking than he expected as he cradles his side with a bandaged arm.

“Don’t do what?”

He exhales and settles with his legs crossed, looking down at your hand, more than grateful that he’s even able to hold it. He glances back up at you when he speaks, though he fails to hold contact for long. He’s too ashamed to even look at you.

“Make excuses for me. The whole thing was my fault and you know it. I’ve been treating you terribly, I made you feel like a bother when you’re exactly the opposite of that, all because I didn’t want to deal with my own shit and I’m… I’m sorry baby. I’m so sorry.” He lets you hold his face in the palms of your hands, and somehow the act of your thumbs brushing his tears away before they can even fall completely only makes his shoulders shudder more.

Your expression is solemn as he repeatedly utters his apology. It’s not often Lo’ak cries in front of you, and you keep telling him that it’s okay but he shakes his head because he knows it’s not, he’s only lucky enough to have a mate so understanding. Because somehow, even after all he’s done you’re still so gentle with him, and he can’t believe he ever made you think he didn’t want this.

“Will you forgive me?” He asks through a stuttered inhale, glossed amber eyes peering into yours with doubt. It comes as a whisper, your response, almost immediate and he feels like he can finally breathe as an unbearable weight lifts from his shoulders.

“I already have.”

His arm snakes around your middle and he’s pulling you into his lap sideways before you can stop him.

“Lo’ak…” You refuse to put all your weight onto him, your hands just ghosting over his shoulders as you gently try to pull yourself off him.

“No, I’m fine. Stay.” His hold on you tightens to the best of his ability when you try to move, though you’re not sure you believe his claim, because he winces again once you shift your weight to sit comfortably.

“I’m going to make your injuries worse.” You sigh.

“This hurts less than not being able to hold you for four days. Trust me.” He chuckles dryly, you can tell it’s lacking in humor and you chew your lip at that.

It’s obvious he’s not going to let you up, so you relax the slightest bit in his hold and use a finger to lift his chin, so your eyes meet. “Can you promise me something?”

His response is swift, the nod of his head eager. “Anything.”

“Please, no more disappearing. I can’t stand not knowing if you’re safe or not, and I really don’t like sleeping alone.” You mumble. He gives your side a comforting squeeze, as if to say ‘i’m sorry’ again.

A brief kiss is pressed to the round of your shoulder as he looks up at you, then he responds. “I promise, baby. No more disappearing, you have my word.”

You continue.

“And when something is bothering you, we work through it, together. That means you talk about your emotions, not run away from them.” You quirk your eyebrow at him when he grumbles slightly under his breath. He glances to the side for a beat, then he nods again, and though a little more hesitant than the first, you’ll take what you can get.

“I promise.” He gives you a small smile as reassurance and leans into your touch when you go to tuck a braid behind his ear.

“Good. Now do you wanna tell me what the hell you were doing on the field instead of in the air?”

“Uh...”