#a little ooc but it's a funny thought though

[yumekoii]

⋆˙⟡ — "are we still friends?"

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖🕊️ ft. sunday + f!reader ✦⋆♡ wc. 697 ˚₊‧ ♱ tw. one-sided crush, reader is very oblivious, ooc sunday, angst w/ no comfort :(

a/n. i love sunday, i promise !!! but i'm feeling a little angsty 2nite

you and sunday are best friends, but he loves you more than a friend and you so oblivious to his love for you.

so imagine the heartbreak sunday has when you introduce him to your new boyfriend. the first time he met him, your boyfriend was everything you could have wanted. smart, kind, and funny in the way you liked. the chemistry was obvious, and you were happy. but sunday… he wasn’t.

he couldn’t hate your boyfriend; that would have been easy. but he didn’t. he didn’t even have a real reason to dislike him. your boyfriend was, objectively, a good guy. but that didn’t change the fact that sunday was in love with you, and watching you so happy with someone else hurt more than he could have anticipated.

he tries to be supportive, but he just can't. he was supposed to be the one making you laugh, the one to dry your tears, the one to hold your hand. not him.

as the days passed, sunday’s silence grew louder. his smiles, the ones he always gave you, felt forced. when you talked about your boyfriend, there was an edge to his tone—something sharp hidden beneath his usual calm. but you never noticed.

he was good at hiding it.

so when you invited your boyfriend to another picnic, with sunday sitting just across from you, his unease was palpable. robin noticed first. she could read him like an open book, and this time, she saw the tension in his posture, the clench of his jaw. she gently nudged him, concern flashing in her eyes.

"are you okay?" she whispered.

sunday didn’t answer immediately. instead, he watched as your boyfriend casually wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. the sight made his stomach twist, a mix of frustration and jealousy pooling in his chest. he could hear you laughing at something your boyfriend said, the sound filling the air in a way it never had when sunday was the one who made you laugh.

"i’m fine," sunday muttered, though his voice betrayed him. there was nothing fine about this. nothing at all.

hours have passed and the sun began to set. you guys decided to pack up everything, sunday’s stomach churned with an ache that wouldn’t go away. he kept his distance from you, pretending to busy himself with the blanket, folding it in neat little squares.

your boyfriend was with you, his voice light, but there was an edge to it. acertain possessiveness that rubbed sunday the wrong way, even though he knew it wasn’t malicious. he was just… trying to hold on to you.

“see you later, sunday,” you called, smiling brightly, unaware of the turmoil you had stirred inside him.

he barely met your eyes when he replied. “yeah… see you.”

it was the smallest of exchanges, but in that moment, it was enough to remind him that things had changed. you had changed.

as the sound of your laughter faded into the distance, sunday’s shoulders sagged. he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

you had moved on, and he was still here, stuck in the same place he’d always been, caught in a web of unspoken words and silent regrets.

.....

today, you and sunday decided to have a day just for the two of you. it felt nice, to finally be with you without the presence of your boyfriend.

"are we still friends?" you asked, the words coming out of nowhere. because maybe, just maybe, sunday couldn’t be your best friend anymore.

his heart skipped a beat. he didn’t answer right away. instead, he looked at you, truly looked at you for the first time in a long while. there was something in your eyes—something familiar, something real.

for a brief moment, he thought he saw the glimmer of concern. the glimmer of something more than just a casual friendship. but then, just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone.

��of course,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. he gave you his warm smile that always comforted you.

but inside, the truth was louder than ever. no, we’re not. not anymore.

[adioringhamzah]

daddy pt1

y/n starts to feel nauseous after a tipsy hook up with her best friend hamzah

tw : fluff, vomiting, pregnancy scare, mentions of hooking up

you woke up feeling sick, you were used to feeling a little nauseous in the morning, but this was really something else, you could almost feel like a burn inside your throat. you got up from your bed, barely walking two steps before throwing up all over your brand new pink rug. already feeling defeated by this mysterious illness, you remembered that you were supposed to meet up with your best friend mandy. to be totally honest, you were a little happy to be missing your date because things had been a little awkward since you hooked up with her boyfriend's best friend, hamzah.

it didn't really mean anything, you were both a little tipsy at a party, and one thing led to another.. leading to your legs spread wide open in his bed. mandy didn't know anything about it, but you wanted to tell her so bad, that night with hamzah was genuinely one of the best you ever had, and you couldn't tell anyone.

you and hamzah had been friends since she started dating martin, you had always liked how funny and thoughtful he was. he knew how to make you laugh even when you were at your worst and he loved how you knew all the tiktok references he used. you didn't talk that much when you weren't physically next to each other though, it was like those school friends that you would only talk to from 8 am to 5 pm before forgetting all about them.

but you never forgot about hamzah, you would think about him every time you saw a ginger cat or a funny tiktok. even boba shops would remind you of his beautiful deep eyes.

you got back to reality when you got a text from mandy, trying to confirm the date's location. you quickly replied that you were feeling sick and made a little summary of all your symptoms. you loved that mandy could use her nurse knowledge to diagnose you : most of the time, she would just reply that you're overreacting and not to worry or that you had a common cold, but this time you didn't really like her reply.

she asked you when were your last periods and you started feeling deezy, after all they were a few weeks late but you hadn't thought that much about it since you weren't having lots of sex and they always came a little late anyway. but this time felt different, it's like you knew. you lied to mandy, telling her you felt better already after taking some vitamins and she seemed relieved.

but you weren't. you quickly threw on one of the baggiest shirt you could find, it ironically was an ooc one, and your comfort pair of jeans. you took your vintage purse and left. the walk to the pharmacy felt way too long, and when you arrived, you took a pregnancy test from each brand available. you paid for them and quickly walked out. but while stressfuly walking home, you heard a greeting from a familiar voice. normally, you would've loved it, but this time, you really weren't in the mood to chat with someone that could potentially be the reason for your nausea. you tried to walk faster, but he catched up to you and warmly greeted you. when you turned around, you were shocked by how beautiful he looked in such a basic outfit, always with his nap queen hoodie.

he asked you why you were so avoiding, and you told him some lie about you simply not hearing him. he believed you but started walking with you and playing with your shirt, you knew he loved seeing people wear his merch, especially you, it made him feel accomplished. he got closer and closer to you, and you started reminiscing about your shared night, you could almost feel his tongue on the most vulnerable parts of your body. your daydreaming made you clumsy all of a sudden and your little bag fell right off your shoulder.. all the way to the ground.

you knew hamzah was a true gentleman, he picked the bag right up just like you knew he would, but when all the tests started spilling over, you felt your nausea get worse and worse. you looked at him, his mouth was wide open, shocked. you couldn't bring yourself to say anything, and both of you looked at each other in pure shock. he finally decided to start talking, "y/n what's all this?? is there something you need to tell me??". you felt your tears coming up and started crying, you didn't know what to tell him, after all, you might not even be pregnant! hamzah was so sweet, though, quickly bringing your shaking body in his strong arms in the middle of the street, letting you finish crying in peace. once you finally calmed down, he let you out of his embrace and told you to come with him.

you found yourself back at his apartment in no time. he led you to his bathroom and took all the tests out of the boxes. you thanked him lots of times and told him to get out just as long as you peed on them. when you got out, you found hamzah waiting right in front of the door. he took your hand and sat you down right next to him on his sofa. he gently placed strands of hair behind your ears before placing his hands on your hips and kissing you. it felt like you had been waiting for this kiss forever, and you found yourself returning the kiss like you were starved, and your only ressource was his saliva. your long kiss was interrupted by a loud beep from hamzah's phone. "oh shit.. the tests are done", you looked at him like a sad puppy that didn't want to get put down. you couldn't even speak because you knew tears would start flowing. thankfully, he understood and went to get everything from the bathroom.

you started shaking, scared of what could happen, hamzah came back, with a scared smile. he told you he hadn't looked at anything yet and that you should just look at them at the same time, you agreed, and both of you looked closely while he turned it around. you were left shocked when hamzah threw the test at the other side of the room, you gave him a confused look but he quickly explained

"y/n, i don't care if you're pregnant or not, whatever happens i just want to confess that i think im in love with you, i have been ever since i first saw you and i know i could love our potential baby just as much"

you were left absolutely speechless but in the best way ever and you loved how his cheeks turned a light pink colour. it was all you dreamed of but thought absolutely impossible until now. you leaned into him, placing your hands on the back of his neck and his on your hips. "i love you too" you said just loud enough for him to hear you, his smile grew bigger and he kissed you all over your face.

💋

[stellaris-archivum]

just a silly little chamber headcanon

(based on this post right here) (yes it's a facebook reel i am sorry)

so apparently a lot of businessmen, politicians, or even powerful leaders use astrology to help their careers and decision-making. and who is chamber but a humble merchant of weapons? you know he definitely knows how to read his natal chart.

i like to believe that in a moment of weakness he presented himself to viper and told her that he could see in the stars if they're meant to be or not via natal chart synastry.

viper: *rejects his date proposal for the nth time*

chamber: okay, you know what? what if i tell you that i can prove that we are fated together? will you let me prove it?

viper: *is somewhat amused* alright, go ahead.

viper:

chamber: fantastic

chamber: *pulls out a natal chart synastry between them with viper's birthday and other information supplied by cypher* voila!

chamber:

viper: what the fuck?

word got out for reasons that chamber couldn't comprehend (cypher is DEFINITELY not involved), but every now and then someone would pester him while he's working in his workshop (most likely phoenix. he had also dragged gekko into this mess.) and that had tormented him since asking him things like "oh is it good to have a haircut today, am i going to have a good encounter if i go out of base today?" and despite chamber's best efforts to stay secluded and be by himself, they always have a way of finding him. it has driven him insane. even neon was interested at some point but thought that she could just consult the fortune tellers in quiapo church in manila and deemed that they're much more reliable than him.

[triglycercule]

This is a question related to the mtt hobbies answer that you wrote, the murder trio go around the multiverse and live in a place together, then what happend to horrortale au and horrortale papyrus? If the murder trio got to meet horrortale papyrus how would it go? (The meeting propably wouldnt end well with more canon mtt haha)

aaaaa i dont think it through to be honest when i talk about that concept. they just do. maybe horrortale's issues are already solved and aliza's already gone through horrortale and somehow fixed the hellhole (ALIZA MY GOAT PLEASE SAVE HORRORTALE I DON'T CARE IF IT TAKES 10 YEARS‼️‼️‼️) by the time that horror somehow meets dust and killer (since i dont see a feasible way that horrortale could be fixed outside of aliza or outside intervention.) or maybe he just visits from time to time. and by time to time i mean probably quarterly weekly. idk sorry i cant be bothered to think about it,,, they just do. anyways bad answer i KNOW I KNOW put the tomatoes down pls PLS

if the mtt met horror paps? horror would obviously do his little bantering thing with paps (he's probably revealing every single one of horror's embarrassing moments to them as they speak and horror's desperately trying to get him to shut up because he can tell. dust and killer are piiiiiiissed.) dust is probably like eerily calm during the whole thing. he manages to hold up a conversation pretty well with horror paps and gets along with him good enough without mentioning that theres a ghost version of him screaming asking why dust is ignoring phantom paps. meanwhile killer is mostly silent during it too probably only responding when he's spoken too. i mean like killer already doesn't like being around papyruses (papyri? papyri is so shitty i dont like it we will be saying papyruses) and then seeing horror's papyrus??? what the FUCK happened to horror paps??? sunken in eyes and cracks in his bones and those jagged teeth AND THEN THE FUCKING CROOKED SPAGHETTI????

needless to say once horror paps is gone all of them get into a biiiiig fight. dust drops the cool act because he's not gonna lose his cool around a papyrus but also he's absolutely fuming. he can tell that the changes that phantom papyrus has gone through have something to do with horror with the way that he's acting. killer is also incredibly irritated too (surpringly. being around papyruses just gets him like that) and seeing papyrus like that just gets him upset and angry. like wtf horror did you even TRY with keeping your papyrus safe??? at least killer reset his au and now papyrus is living an unharmed life (with minor concerns about killer's whereabouts but he'll ignore that for now) but horror paps looks so fucked up that there is no WAY that horror tried to prevent him from getting to that point

obviously they fight and many many many many MANY words are said about eachother's characters and the state they left their respective papyruses in. horror knows damn well that horrortale paps's state is because of him but he regretted telling paps to eat humans and neither dust nor killer knew the struggle of living with that guilt and how much he regrets it so they dont get to drag him for not trying hard enough to keep papyrus safe. dust is definitely getting some low blows here and there (but he's getting fucking assisted by phantom paps so he's got some of the deepest hitting insults) and he's definitely getting ganged up on for killing his papyrus and like. not even attempting to leave him alive in someway shape and form aside from the absolute insult that is phantom paps. surprisingly killer is winning this fight because he left his papyrus in a relatively good state. even though he's in a more emotional state than he normally is and would've absolutely OBLITERATED dust and horror in the fight in stage 2 he's actually doing pretty well. probably because hororr and dust dont really have anything to drag him on. they might bring up how something new papyrus is searching for killer but like,,,, is that really that bad compared to how they left their papyruses

[tariah23]

They’re calling my baby Gojo, Joseph Joestar now

[wolfiesmoon]

Lockscreen background

Malleus x gn!reader

i seem to have a thing for characters who are clueless abt technology hahaha, this takes place before we actually find out his real name btw

(also i apologise if malleus is ooc in any way i'm still in the early books of the game😭)

"Hello." You heard a voice behind you as you exited the classroom. You turned around to find... uh, Hornton, was it? You still can't get over the stupid nickname that Grim picked, but he seems completely okay with you calling him that, so you keep doing it.

What could he possibly want with you?

"Uhh, hi...!" you greeted him back awkwardly.

"I have a somewhat trivial yet important matter I need help with." He opened and you tilted your head slightly. Now your interest is piqued.

"Let's go somewhere more... private." he suggested at your confused expression. You nodded slowly. Though this whole conversation is strange so far, he looks anything but malicious. And knowing him, he never is.

The two of you went to a more secluded part of the school and as soon as you got there, he pulled something out from his pocket, handing it to you. It looked to be a brand new phone.

"Could you help me with this object? I have no idea how to use it and you are the only one I can approach about this." he looked a little worried.

"Sure, what do you need help with?" you offered and his expression softened slightly.

"Turning it on, for starters."

A silence fills the room.

"Ahahahaha, oh jeez... I'm- I'm sorry- hahahaha...!" You couldn't help but laugh. He didn't even know how to turn it on?

Needless to say, he was not amused by your laughter. "If you will laugh at me, I will not be needing your help anymore." He crossed his arms.

"No- No- I'm sorry, I really am." You had to hold back a few giggles. "I'll help- I'll help you, you just shocked me with how little you know about a.. p-phone." He suddenly seemed like a 90 year old grandpa who bought a phone to talk to his grandkids and didn't know the first thing about it. What a funny mental image.

"You're talking strangely." He commented, and you quickly turned the phone in his direction before he could question your attempts at stifling a laugh.

"Here, see this button? You press it and the phone turns on, like this." You demonstrated, and his face lit up.

"I see. But, the salesperson informed me that this phone is unlockable by something called 'Face ID' as well. Do you know what that is by any chance?" The genuine interest in his voice was actually kind of cute.

"Don't worry about all that. Actually, why are you buying a phone only now?" You thought it was strange. If he was this clueless about technology, why buy a modern cellphone all of a sudden?

"During class, some of my classmates were discussing about these so called phones. They talked about something called a 'magicam'. And I... became curious." the little pause at the third sentence made you think that might just not be the full truth. But you have no reason to be suspicious or question him on it, so you just told yourself to forget about it.

"Magicam might be a little too... advanced for you right now. Here, let's start by exchanging contacts." You showed him the 'contacts' app, opening it and inputting your number and your name.

You handed the phone back to him. "Here, now press this green button on the bottom left and you'll call me." he did as you instructed and your phone started vibrating in your pocket. You pulled it out, answering the call.

"Hello!" you said cheerfully.

"I can... hear you twice. Is there magic imbued within a phone?" his eyes were widened slightly, even more so when he heard his own voice from your phone.

"You silly goose, we only hear eachother twice because we're standing right next to eachother. Stay here and place the phone next to your ear, okay?" you smiled at him, walking away.

"I am not silly and I am certainly not a goose. I thought it was obvious enough by taking once glance at me."

"It's not an insult, Hornton. It's like a silly little thing you say to someone when they say something, well, silly." you smile, now completely out of his line of sight and standing in a different room.

After a few moments of silence, he spoke again "I can still hear your voice."

"Yup, that's what a phone is, in essence. Nowadays we use it for a lot of things, but basically, you can call people on it and you'll hear their voice and talk to them, no matter how far away from you they are. Isn't that cool?"

"How very fascinating." you could hear his amusement through the phone.

"Oh, I just have one more thing to do! I'll come back in a moment!" you ended the call, running back to where you were before.

"I got suprised for a moment. The phone made a strange noise and I couldn't hear you anymore." he cleared his throat. He must have panicked a bit when you hung up. How cute. "Calling someone is definitely much more convenient than sending them a letter."

You just realised that he's probably been sending physical, handwritten letters to everyone up until this point which makes him even more charmingly old-timey in your eyes. How funny is that?

"Give the phone here for a moment." you requested and when he did so, you opened the camera app and turned it towards the two of you to take a selfie. You could see him inspect himself through the phone.

"I see, so it functions as a mirror, too. What a marvel."

"Well, do I have news for you. This is the camera app, and we're going to take a photo together. Now smile!" you nudged him slightly and he smiled very awkwardly and unnaturally. Oh well, you'll take it.

You snapped the photo, setting it as his lockscreen.

"Here, now you have a photo of me and you as your background!" he took the phone back, staring at your face on the screen.

"I actually have something I have to be doing right now, so I'll continue teaching you about phones later! Call me if you need anything! Oh, and I'll save your number too, don't worry!" You waved to him, running down the hallway.

"Goodbye." he said back, immediately looking back down at your picture with him. Your face is truly precious in it. He is very glad to be in possession of a photo of you.

He knew you were the right person to ask.

.

The reason he decided to buy a phone was that he felt sad because he couldn't talk to anyone without a disconnect. Ignoring the fact that most of his classmates are afraid of him, they wouldn't be able to find common ground in hobbies and conversation topics regardless.

So he thought that maybe he could start by getting a phone upon hearing students discuss phone cases and the like. Surely, understanding what the masses currently enjoy would make him more approachable.

He is eternally thankful to you for helping him out.

You're very welcoming to him and that makes him indescribably happy. One day he'll repay you with all the things you could ever want. He has the abilities to do that, after all.

Maybe he should give you something as a thank you next time you meet, actually. What did you say you enjoyed again?

That's what he thought about as he looked at his lockscreen on his bed that night. If only you saw the way he smiled at your photo.

[sleepyangelkami]

INDISPOSED d.winchester

𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT - 2.1K

DEAN WINCHESTER X FEM!READER

𝜗𝜚 SUMMARY - you always seem to feel more than upset when you're sick. luckily for you, dean's always by your side when you fall ill, no matter the time.

𝜗𝜚 WARNINGS - sick!reader, illness symptoms, flu, dizziness, aches, reader's a little emotional, eating?, crying, mention of reader's lonely past, non-sexual nudity, kinda crybaby!reader, (1) use of y/n, slightly ooc dean, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

there's seemingly a tell tale sign of when you're feeling extra poorly, and that's the feeling of water beginning to pool in your waterline.

you couldn't help the dramatics that would take over your body, much less when you find dean sitting in your bedroom, assuring you that it was alright that he'd come home early from his hunt. "you shouldn't have to leave sam alone 'cause of me." you were a sniffling mess at your desk, for two reasons, one being that you were upset and the second being that your nose was so stuffed you could hardly breathe.

"sammy's fine to figure out the rest of this one, baby." dean was sitting on your bed, girly covers and throw pillows surrounding him. "and i don't have to do anything, i'm choosing to be here." dean's voice was all low and soft, the voice he used when you were upset which was seemingly more often than you'd thought.

you heard him shuffle across the room to where you sat on a brown, tattered chair.

he crouched down so he was eye level with you. "come on, sweetheart, you know you're just upset 'cause you feel all sick." his hand was gently tracing your thigh, soothing you from your sniffles. "think you just need to lay down, yeah?"

you mumbled something that he didn't quite catch with a nod.

he waited momentarily but you hadn't made any decision to move. "y/n." your eyes snapped up to meet his. "come lay down."

"okay." was your sheepish response.

dean didn't often call you by your name, he cast it away with all the lovely nicknames he'd picked out for you personally. nobody was baby but his car, until he'd met you. it came so easily, that soft way of loving.

when dean had you finally beneath the blankets, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, half-comforting and half-trying to gauge your temperature.

"where are you going?" your hand reached out for his lower arm.

dean turned down to look at you, a smile softly reaching his lips. "just getting your medication, baby, i'll be back, don't worry." and this time, the kiss pressed against your forehead was purely because he felt like it.

dean was well aware of your inability to take care of yourself. now, he was in no way calling you a nuisance, he just wished you cared for yourself as much as he did. with that being said, he did always love being able to care for you, it was a way that was so different than having to take care of sam his whole life. perhaps it was because this, he wasn't obliged to do, it wasn't expected of him.

he loved taking care of you but if anything were to happen to him... he'd like to know you could take care of yourself, too.

when dean returned to the bedroom, you were passed out asleep against the sheets. the man couldn't help but stop in his tracks.

you were a chatty person, awfully bubbly at times. and dean loved that about you, listening to you babble on about something and when he didn't catch a word he'd ask you to repeat what you said, it was always funny watching as the gears turned in your head, trying to remember.

sometimes you swore you talked so much that you tuned yourself out.

dean didn't though, he listened to every word that spilled from your lips.

but you were chatty with everyone you were close to. god forbid you ever went on a road trip with he and sam.

but with him you could be quiet at times, you still got shy and nervous around him which always made him coo, there was something sweet at the fact you could be so different behind closed doors, so yourself.

and seeing you like this, your lips drew into a pout and pink staining your ill cheeks, well it was rather nice, he thought.

he hated to be so evil as he was to wake you.

"sweetheart." the mere whisper of the name as his hands came down to soothe your arms was enough to have your eyelids peeling open. "sweetheart, c'mon, you gotta take your medicine."

a half-whine fell from your lips as he sat you up against the bed, sitting too so that you could lean yourself against him. dean was suddenly aware of how much hotter your body had gotten. he hadn't been gone long, just a trip to the kitchen to get you a glass of water and the medication he needed, though it'd taken him a while to find it. he had a bad habit of leaving things in strange places and forgetting about it.

he handed you off the capsules and then the glass of water.

"how're you feeling, honey?" the back of his palm pressed against your right cheek then slightly down your top, to your chest. he was like a concerned mother. "you're really hot."

"thanks." you quipped, leaning your hot forehead against his arm and sipping the water he'd given you.

he rolled his eyes at your remark, obviously taking your sickness more seriously than you were. "'m serious, you can't have blankets."

"dean!"

"no."

"dean, 'm cold." you nuzzled yourself further into dean's warm body, a dark grey hoodie coated his form along with black sweatpants, not his usual attire.

"you're not cold." he took your face between his two hands. "you're sick." pressing a kiss against the tip of your nose. you fought the words 'sap' to come from the back of your scratchy throat. "you can have the blankets but i have to take this off, then." you felt him gently pull at the shirt you'd stolen from him, clad on your body.

"deal." you mumbled, feeling a wave of dizziness hit you.

to make matters worse, you shook your head, thinking it would rid of the dizziness.

"hey, don't do that." he steadied your head before taking the glass out from your hands and placing it on the bedside dresser.

you felt his hands on your shirt, slowly pulling it from your frame. you helped by putting your arms in he air, allowing him to pull it off your body and toss it somewhere on the ground.

"want the tv on?" you nodded your head silently as the man rose from his place on the bed, reaching the tv stand where he picked up the remote and switched it on.

aimlessly, you uttered, "my legs hurt." while sliding back under the pretty covers.

he was busy fidgeting with the buttons on the remote. he never did know how to work your tv properly. "'s just cause your sick, it'll go away, baby."

you huffed at his response, laying your head on the pillows while you pulled the blanket close to you. you were cold but it was that sickly cold where you couldn't tell if it was really a chill or perhaps you were so warm that you felt cold, which didn't make a whole pile of sense.

when dean finally climbed back into the bed, your body practically collapsed on top of him.

he laid with an arm behind his neck and the other trailing shapes across your bare back, you lay with your head on his chest, listening to the low tv along with the thumping of his heart.

"are you okay?" you mumbled, voice slick with tiredness. the sickness was weird like that, hitting you suddenly, leaving just as immediately.

dean could have cooed at you. even while you were wrapped up in blankets, sick as a small hospital, you managed to ask him if he was okay.

It was another reason why he liked taking care of you. you took care of each other. "i'm okay."

another hushed mumble. "promise?"

"i promise." he answered honestly, fingers against your skin, moving up and down your back. "get some sleep, 'kay?"

a yawn passed your lips. "okay."

they said sleep was the best medicine, that it cured everything that was curable. well, you weren't sure anyone had said it to you but you just knew that it was said.

you had to beg to differ.

by dinnertime, your temperature was running hot.

earlier was the kind of sick that you could stomach, this was the kind of sick that had you flushed against the headboard of your bed, hands running down your face as you felt your head pound against the back of your eyes.

you could hear dean walk back into the room and you felt guilt soar through your veins.

you knew you were being... difficult to say the least. but you couldn't help it, hot tears gathering at your waterline all over again.

the mattress dipped as dean nudged your arm and you looked up at him with glossy eyes before looking down at the sandwich sitting on a plate in his hands.

"know you said you're not hungry but can you try eat some f'me? 's jam." his tone was all soft and his voice was all quiet. by now, he'd turned off the tv and closed the curtains, noticing how the light had been affecting your eyes. the only light on now was the little lamp sitting on your bedside table so you could actually see your surroundings.

you nodded hesitantly and took the sandwich from him.

dean noticed things about you like nobody else. he very early on found out that you loved jam sandwiches, you loved raspberry jam but you had an awful distaste for strawberry jam so from there on, he never bought strawberry jam on the offhand occurence that you may accidentally use it without looking at the label and get your jam sandwich ruined.

you were halfway through said sandwich when you placed it back on the plate, begging to tear up.

dean immediately took notice of it, taking the plate from you. "wh's wrong, baby? too much?"

you shook your head, sniffling. even the act of shaking your head had you clutching it soon after.

dean tutted, moving your hand away so he could soothe your forehead with a kiss and a gentle movement of his thumb. "poor girl." you heard him mutter under his breath, his brows strewn together in sympathy.

looking up at him, you had those glassy eyes that made his stomach feel almost as nauseous as yours. he didn't have to ask what was troubling you for you answered, anyway, to the silent question behind his eyes. "you're so nice to me."

his heart shattered a little.

it was no supirse that you didn't grow up with much comfort surrounding you and that only got worse as you began to get older. some days, you didn't think you'd ever get the comfort that your body ached for. and then dean winchester walked in, and his one and only goal was to take care of you, was to care for you, was to love you.

so you couldn't help tearing up a little from time to time when you think about the strawberry jam he gave up just for you.

"oh, baby. you're my sweet girl." he pulled you closer to him, putting your forehead against his chest so you could lean your weight on him. "'course 'm nice to you."

he helped you sit on his lap, fully discarding the place wherever his hands could push it to.

then his hands found your body, roaming it with this gentleness yet assertion. you'd put his shirt back on a while ago and discarded the blankets, which he was thankful for. he needed to break your temperature.

you weren't due medication for another two hours and you'd taken all the painkillers you could.

right now, all he could offer was himself.

and that was enough for you.

your arms tightened around his shoulders as you sniffled, tears breaking down your cheeks with a defeated sigh. "hate bein' sick." you uttered, sadness evident in your voice.

"i know, angel, i know." he gently rocked you in his lap, not enough to make your head dizzy but enough to bring you back to the moment, to remind you he was there.

and you stayed like that for seemingly a long time, melting into one another's embrace as if it were the most entertaining thing in the world.

you pressed your flush cheek against the hoodie covering his bare shoulder. the tears eventually dried up and all that was left was your frustrated sighs and mumbles.

"'s okay, sweetheart." he pressed a final kiss to your flushed face. "it'll pass."

and he was by your side as soon as it did.

main masterlist/dean's masterlist

[narizaki]

bad habits   suna rintaro x reader

―   tags   gender neutral reader,   fluff,   childhood friends to lovers

―   notes   wc is around 1.2k,   maybe ooc suna,   thank you for 100 followers, here's my gift to you <3

rintaro has many bad habits.

he’s well aware of them — so much so that he has a mental list of them. number 5 on the list is how he gets lazy during volleyball matches whenever he knows his team is in the lead. number 4 is how he never bothers to even attempt to mediate fights. though, he figures that one hardly counts as a bad habit, seeing as it’s the result of spending years around the miya twins. they would rather die than let anyone but kita or their mother get in between of their debacles. 

“tell me a secret, rin,” you hum into the phone.

you and rintaro have ingrained late-night phone calls into your routines after graduating high school and separating your own ways. with him working as a professional volleyball player, you hardly see each other anymore. he's always too busy with traveling and training, despite the fact you still live in the same city. although he knows you’d never tell him, he’s aware that you were upset when he began to have less and less time to talk to you. after all, he hadn’t spent the majority of his life with you to not know what makes you tick.

so, even though he’s stumbling over his own feet walking home, he’s still on the phone with you. he vaguely understands what you say before spouting out the first thing he thinks of — another bad habit of his.

number 3: he loses his filter when he’s tired. 

rintaro never had much of a filter to begin with, but his reserved nature essentially acted as one. he was certainly less blunt than people like kita and atsumu. as the years passed, though, it was made apparent to him that he became more curt with his words when in dire need of rest. he surmises that it’s something that happens to everybody, though, so he forgives himself for it.

“you know, i used to like you when we were kids,” he mumbles. “actually, it lasted until high school.”

you sputter on the other end, choking on your water. rintaro laughs at your incessant coughing.

“that was not funny! and, what? suna rintaro, are you drunk right now?” you yell into the receiver. the volume of your voice makes him wince, forcing him to tug his phone away from his ear. regardless, he laughs a little harder.

“full name? what happened to rin?” he almost whines, kicking a rock. you grumble on the other line. “and i’m not drunk.”

“rin,” you sigh, and he smiles at the nickname. “i know you like to fuck around with people, or whatever, but this isn’t something to joke about.” your tone is serious, almost scolding. rintaro only frowns. he’s not lying. he wouldn’t lie about something like this. he couldn’t, especially to you.

“i’m not joking, i swear. i did like you… or, still do?” he thinks aloud, questioning himself. rintaro is barely registering what he’s saying — mind fuzzy from the harsh day. his coach was particularly unforgiving today, leaving him sore and tired as he drags his feet back to his apartment. still, he continues. “yeah, still do, actually.”

“rin,” you say, exasperated, “you like me? as a friend, you mean?” 

even in his slightly delirious state, rintaro can tell you’re trying to save face — for you or for him, he’s unsure. what he does know is that you’d never thought he’d see you in a romantic light. it was his fault, really — you’d always been a hopeless romantic, but rintaro knew you’d considered him off-limits. aside from your long-term friendship, there was also his disinterested approach to dating. 

if only you knew how wrong you were.

he was never uninterested in dating — he just always had his eyes on you. that was where another bad habit of his shone through — number 2: he never tells anyone, anything. that, mixed with his hard-to-read demeanor, meant that nobody truly knew how he felt about you. of course, those around him could tell that you were close. everybody knew that you and rintaro had grown up together, so it was only a matter of time until people started assuming that the two of you had something more. while rintaro never gave those people the time of day, you’d always nervously deny their pries.

atsumu and osamu would always tease him (and sometimes, you) about it, but they quickly learned to give up once they saw his feigned indifference toward the subject and your immediate rejection to their statements. his default response was to brush them off — he’d rather die than give the twins out of all people anything to use against him, especially if it was about you. he’d never see the light of day again if miya atsumu was found teasing rintaro about something.

“rin? hello?” your voice echoes throughout his head, forcing rintaro into reality. 

“yeah, sorry,” he mumbles. he’s considering taking his word back — telling you that yeah, he does mean it as a friend. but he decides that he’s already too deep in and fuck it, he’s going to tell you. 

“i do like you…more than a friend. i have for a while, and i know it’s my fault that you had no idea, but i guess i’m telling you now?” rintaro grimaces at the uncertainty in his own voice. he’d always been so sure of himself — or, at least put effort into appearing as such. you’ve always been the exception to that, though, and he supposes that’s a fact that’ll never change. 

a beat of silence passes until you reply. 

“yeah. it is your fault.” you breathe. 

suddenly, all the air is gone from rintaro’s lungs. it forces him to stop in the middle of the sidewalk, shoes skidding against the concrete. his grip on his phone tightens, and he’s considering mumbling out some half-assed excuse about how he is, in fact, drunk. he’ll pray that you believe him, so he can run back to his apartment and maybe actually get drunk before pretending that everything is okay.

thousands of thoughts run through his head. some of them are about how he’s going to play this off, while others are about where you stand with him now. is this what being a setter feels like? having to go through hundreds of different situations to decide what will bring the best outcome? how shitty. he vaguely feels sympathy for atsumu. 

that is, until your laugh fills the air around him. 

“but you’ve told me now, so i think you should turn around.” 

he spins on his heel, coming face-to-face with you. your appearance is disheveled, looking as if you just ran to him — which, you did, based on the harsh breaths you’re taking — and you only have a thin t-shirt and sweatpants on. your phone is still by your ear, grinning at him. it’s childish and hopeful, reminding rintaro of the smiles you would send his way when the two of you would play on the swings during recess. he adored them just as much then as he does now.

rintaro has many bad habits. he’s aware of them, and despite what others may say, he’s come to terms with them.

but as he rushes forward and cups your face into his hands, he knows what he’d say if someone were to ask him what his worst habit was.

number 1: he can never say no to you.

[tastesousweet]

⭒ blurb : podcasting

bf!hamzah x poc!reader

summary: based on this ask!!! little blurb of the times you pop up on the ooc podcast

mickey speaks: this was so funny to write!!! also i need to be hamzah's gf yesterday bitch

─────────── · · ୨୧ · · ───────────

hamzah having you in an episode with mandy and martin

“oh wow this couch gets kinda tight when four people are squeezed on here” hamzah says while adjusting a few pillows

“yeah,” martin starts before addressing the audience, “and, well, you’re probably wondering ‘who the heck is that?!’” he gestures his hand over to you, beside hamzah with your legs folded and knees lying against his thigh

you can’t help but smile as hamzah introduces you, “and, yeah, believe it or not i have a girlfriend.”

“i’m right next to you so i’d hope they believe it” give a soft giggle

“only hamzah would announce he has a girlfriend with ‘believe it or not’” mandy adds and hamzah throws a hand up in the air in defeat

★

martin: “i can’t help but think this feels like in middle school when people were just group dating all the time”

hamzah: “was group dating that common? i don’t remember that”

you: “i remember certain friend groups at my school doing that but i definitely wasn't participating”

mandy: “this isn’t really a group though martin, more like a double date? there’s four of us”

martin: "it's not all about numbers mandy sometimes there's just a vibe"

★

martin: “but you two have been dropping hints about dating for a while now”

you: “yeah, we’ve been doing a little soft launching here and there”

martin: “i like that term a lot actually”

mandy: “i think it’s cute, but i've seen a lot of people online that don't use it properly”

you: "i agreeeee, like you didn't soft launch by posting the back of his head if we already saw the front of it a week ago- we know who he is!!! there is no mystery"

martin: "oh so the appeal is the mystery... almost like scooby doo?"

hamzah, nodding his head: "mhm... exactly"

you: "it's always two dumb bitches telling each other-"

you and hamzah together: "exactlyyyyy"

martin looks over to mandy as the two of you laugh: "oh come on this is their first episode together and look at them mandy! we have to be cuter, come on. lock in."

hamzah: "hey no need to be jealous, my friend."

hamzah pats martins thigh

mandy: "so what was that right there?"

hamzah: "you wouldn't understand..."

martin: "no but seriously mandy you never soft launched me- only hard"

mandy: "there was no need to??? next time i'll do it i guess"

you, laughing: "next time???"

hamzah is sat in thought for an extra second before he replies to martin, making them both laugh

hamzah: “okay martin you said like that term so much? boy, now imma soft launch these nuts in your mouth”

you: "and i know you were thinking on that joke for a minute"

martin, through laughs: “okay, okay, enough”

hamzah, wiping his eyes: “well, now the jig is up. you know it's all aired out and public”

martin: “yeah... a hard launch on the podcast, that’s crazy bro”

you and mandy, mocking: “that’s craaazzyy brooo”

★

hamzah answering your call during a podcast

martin: “hamzah whenever you buy clothes from the store or get it shipped in the mail always wash your clothes!”

hamzah: “i do wash my clothes but if it’s new that doesn’t make any sense”

martin: “so you’re just gonna open it up and put it on?”

hamzah: “yes!”

hamzah’s phone starts ringing

martin: “and wow. now look who’s breaking the phone rule!”

hamzah: “stop shhh. it’s y/n”

he answers, hamzah: “hey what’s up?”

you see the mic in his hand and widen your eyes, you: “oh shit, i’m sorry to interrupt”

hamzah: “it’s okay i have something to ask you now anyway.”

you: "okayy.. do you wanna go first or me?"

hamzah: "you go ahead"

you: "okay quick- is this business casual enough for an event tonight?"

hamzah: "nobody is doing business lookin' that hot, you can't be serious"

you: "kay thanks"

hamzah, jokes: "you are not anyone's office siren, girl"

you: "i'm gonna hang up"

hamzah: "no!!! i need to ask if you wash your clothes after you buy them."

you: "if they smell like stale water and factory chemicals, yes"

hamzah: "martin is educating me on the importance of this unimportant thing right now."

you: "and you should listen to him, stinky"

martin: "thank you!"

hamzah: "oh nahhh, now i'm gonna hang up"

you: "mkayy bye, sorry for interrupting! bye martin!!!"

martin: "byee"

★

you drop something off at the warehouse studio while they’re filming

hamzah: "what was that noise?"

martin: "i don't know..."

hamzah: "it sounds like someone's actually trying to break in, what?"

martin: "were you expecting company?"

hamzah: "no, were you?"

martin: "no...i mean let's ask the audience"

martin turns to the camera, concerned

hamzah: "okay i'm actually about to go check. this is weird."

it cuts to a clip of hamzah sat again and you peeking your head in the frame to wave

hamzah: "nevermind. it was just my sweet girlfriend bringing us lunch, sorry if that scared you guys."

martin: "should we make like a super artifical thumbnail for clickbait? somethin' like; 'someone tried to kidnap us in our studio!'

hamzah: "no"

★

they have a trolling episode where you and mandy both sub in and act as martin and hamzah for an entire episode

mandy: "you know i find it crazy how we manage to talk about nothing for an entire hour"

you: "this is the talent people expect from us bro! and if we ever get too boring we can always discuss the state of sabrina and barry's relationship."

mandy: "true. and don't make fun of me but everytime man-crush monday comes around i'm always picking barry..."

you: "well if i can't make fun of you then i'll just stay quiet for your sake."

taglist -★ (some of u didn't ask to be tagged but have frequently liked my hamzah content lol, just lmk if you'd prefer not to be tagged!!!)

@sirenedeslily @333michelle @thatmartinkitten @@maybankfr @imsosillygoofylol @certainfestivalnerdshepherd

[nikkeora]

For All the Mary Janes

summary; 'in every other universe, gwen stacy falls for spider-man. and in every other universe, it doesn’t end well'. what about the mary janes, then?

or, in which you're the mary jane to miles's spider-man

pairing(s); e-1610! Miles Morales x reader, e-42! Miles Morales x reader

warning(s); i didn’t have any specific gender or race for r in mind while writing, but rio calls r ‘mija’ once and i think that’s ab it

maybe some incorrect usage of Spanish? Spanish speakers who can respond to my weird questions pls hmu

maybe ooc but it’s been in my drafts so long i just wanted to get it out tbh

implied/mentioned parental issues with reader, not proofread, written (mostly) at ao3 hours

You and Miles were always joined at the hip. Your parents knew each other well, so your families were together a lot. Mr. and Mrs. Morales saw you like their own daughter, often joking that you and Miles would be engaged when you got older with the way he could never leave you alone.

At least, up till around two years ago.

You and Miles started to grow apart when you got into Visions Academy. He thought it was a stupid school full of stuck-up rich kids who only cared about making connections that would help them along further down the line. You thought it was a good school that had a good track record of producing students that had a lot of success in what they wanted to do.

Some things were said the day before your transfer.

Since then, the two of you rarely texted or called. Mrs. Morales would often come by for coffee with your mom, tell you about how her son was doing and gush over 'how much you've grown' from last Tuesday, but that was about the only way you knew the vague outline of what he was up to.

You'd admit you felt lonely for a while. After all, Miles had been your best friend ever since you could remember. But you also weren't going to go running to him after everything he'd said.

I mean, was it really that bad to want a good future?

Soon enough though, you felt like yourself again. You met new people, made new contacts, and actual friends. Because contrary to popular belief, the people there weren't all mini business men and heartless CEOs in the making. They were just kids, after all.

And then, Miles won the draw. Just a few weeks before the start of the new semester, your parents mentioned that he'd be going to your school from now on in passing.

You didn't think much of it at first. I mean, everyone has that one childhood friend that they fell apart with, right? For the first week or so, you didn't even see his face much. In fact, you didn't see him at all, not even a glimpse in the halls.

That was about to change drastically.

Short story shorter, you caught a glimpse of him walking on the side of the school with pigeons stuck to his hands. A month or two later, Spider-Man climbed through your dorm window, ripping off his mask and ranting about some villain of the week.

"I couldn't even catch the guy-"

"Miles?"

"...You're not Ganke."

The two of you made up that night. He apologized, admitting he was being unfair and was upset that you were leaving his school. It didn't exactly clear everything, but it was a start. The two of you caught each other up on everything they had missed. In the end, the sun was about to come up and the both of you realized you hadn't gotten a minute of sleep on a school night.

From then on, the two of you get closer again. He went to you for the occasional rant or patch up, and he actively sought you out in school now, relieved to see a familiar face in the halls. Gradually, you got close to the point you'd call him one of your best friends and vice versa after around a year of radio static.

Everything was great. He was cute, funny - in an awkward way, but hey, he made you laugh - he looked out for you, and when he talked to you he did this cute little thing where he would play with the strings of his hoodie which he somehow always managed to layer on with like two other jackets and—

Oh yeah, did we mention the crush you had on him?

Because there was one.

Big huge one, right here. Materialized out of thin air looks like.

Which should have been fine. You were perfectly capable of hiding a crush. I mean, come on, it's high school. You would've been eaten alive if you couldn't.

Normally, you would even be confident that you could make your crush like you back. I mean, why wouldn't he?

Two words. One person.

Gwen Stacy.

It was like he could never go even one conversation without mentioning her.

Slight exaggeration? Maybe. Maybe not.

"Oh yeah, that's cool! Y'know, Gwen told me one time that—"

"You got an A, I knew you could do it! I told you so. Did you know Gwen got A's in—"

"Oh hey, you got your hair cut! Reminds me of that time when me and Gwen—"

At first, it was bearable. Sure, she came up annoyingly often whenever you talked, but she had just left this dimension, never to be seen again. Of course he was gonna miss her.

You laughed at all his stories, listened to every one even though he told the same six or seven ones over and over again. You even grew to like Gwen, as if you'd known her for the short amount of time Miles did, too.

But then two months passed. Then six. Then a whole year. Before you knew it, a year and four months had passed since the departure of Gwen Stacy.

And he still. Wouldn't. Shut. Up.

You had tried to understand. You really did.

But you can only hear the same damn jokes so many times before you get a migraine.

Pick any story. You could list off every variation of how Miles would tell it off the top of your head.

Gwen Stacy became the daughter of one of your mom’s friends, so to speak. That one girl in the neighborhood you couldn’t help but envy.

And worst of all, it was like he wished you were her.

Whenever you did something, he would tell you how Gwen could do it better. He would ask you whether or not you thought Gwen would like certain trinkets he found around town, and kept a collection of them in one of his drawers so he could give them to her one day. He was even studying quantum physics instead of art so that he could make his own multiversal gateway - a safe one, so that he could unlock the multiverse, possibly for good.

It hurt when he zoned out while you were telling him about you, thinking about her; your day, what you wanted to study, how your parents were fighting a lot again lately and you were struggling because of it, how you'd joined a new band—

"A band, huh?" Miles suddenly perked up, finally looking up from his sketchbook. "Did I tell you Gwen's in a band? It's called the Mary Janes—"

"Miles would you please stop?"

A pause, both of you mildly surprised at how you'd snapped at him.

The two of you were at your dorm, seated side-by-side on the bed with your legs folded in front of you. It was Friday, the day before Mr. Morales’s pre signing-in party.

The boy looked at you, a questioning look on his face. "What's wrong?"

And that tilt with his head - he really didn't know, did he? You couldn't decide if that was better or worse.

"Miles, I know Gwen's in a band," He tried to say something, but you didn't let him speak before you continued. "I know she's a drummer, I know she does ballet, I know she had to shave half of her head because you couldn't control your powers - hell, the whole school knows that—"

"C’mon, don’t bring that up—"

"—I know every single story she told you while she was here, and I know every single detail of what you two did and how you did it. And I know she does everything I can do and she does it better. I’m tired of hearing it, Miles." His eyebrows furrowed, a slightly hurt look flashing across his face. "I’m sorry you miss her and I’m sorry she’s gone, but I just can’t be around you if all you’re gonna do is compare me to her."

A moment of silence settled in the air. You hoped Miles would understand. Surely, he’d see how tedious this was getting.

"All I’m asking is for you to tone it down."

Another beat passes without a word from the boy. He’s looking into your eyes, but it doesn’t seem like he’s all there. Like there’s a world past your irises that he’s seeing for the first time.

"I- I’m sorry, y/n, I can’t do that." Miles finally says, his gaze turning away from yours and to the sketch he’d been working on for the last hour. You glanced down at it as well, the bright blue eyes of the one and only Gwen Stacy meeting yours.

"You’re the only one I can talk to on this," he said quietly, softly closing the sketchbook and tapping a finger nervously on the cover.

"Ganke?"

"Ganke’s fine, he’s great, he’s just.. not someone I can go to for these things."

You took a deep breath, the guilt of having to tell him ‘no’ building up in your chest. You knew his relationship with his parents were complicated at the moment, and he didn’t really have friends outside of you and Ganke. But still.. it was like he wasn’t at all interested in what was going on in your life ever since your initial reconnection.

It wasn’t like you expected a complete 50:50 give-and-take in relationships, but honestly you felt like you were talking to a robot with very limited audio cues.

"Miles, you don’t listen to me anymore. The only time you actually respond to anything I say is when it’s something even remotely related to Gwen."

"That’s not true!" Miles protested. You watched as he tried to find something to argue his point, only to come up empty. His shoulders sagged a little.

"But you gotta understand, Gwen - I’m not gonna see her again, at least until I figure out.. everything." He said in a quiet voice. "I need to talk to someone. Can’t you understand?”

"I’m not trying to shut everything down, I’m just asking you to pay attention to me every once in a while." You sighed. "And if you’e not willing to do that… do you even think of me as a friend?"

-

Miles left your dorm not long after that little talk, sneaking out the same way he snuck in; through the window. You dug your nails into your palms, breathing in and out in a steady rhythm to push down any sadness you may have felt. It was the second time you and Miles had grown apart, this time maybe your fault a little more than his. It felt like it, anyway.

Still, you felt like you’d done the right thing.

You hoped so, anyway.

-

It was an hour before Jeff Morales’s technically-not-captain-yet-but-will-be-soon celebration. Your dad and yourself had come early to prepare everything and set up all the decorations. Your mom apparently ‘couldn’t make it’. It was the third time in the last two weeks she cancelled on plans that your dad was involved in.

You stacked red plastic cups on one of the tables, a cooler full of ice and two-litre soda bottles to your left. Miles’s parents had insisted they didn’t need any help, but your dad had insisted right on back that the two of you wanted to. You didn’t mind. You’d cleared your evening for the event anyway, so it’s not like you had anything better to do.

The one thing that made you kind of regret coming was your lack of a jacket. It’d been really sunny in the morning, so you’d figured it would be a warm night. A breeze picked up and sent a light chill through your body, causing you to just barely shiver.

"Mija," Mrs. Morales called, coming up from behind you and laying a hand on your shoulder. "You’re freezing."

"Oh, I’m fine, mama," you replied, smiling at her. She gave you a look that said ‘we both know that isn’t true’.

"Miles might have something in his room," she suggested, "I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you borrowed one of his clothes."

You thanked her but refused, claiming it might get warmer once the guests started to arrive and the party was at full swing. She must have noticed something was off when she mentioned Miles, because she raised an eyebrow and shook her head lightly before asking,

"What did he do now?"

Either you’re really bad at hiding things from her or her motherly sixth-sense worked on you too. You hesitated, but decided it wouldn’t hurt to tell her. After all, Rio had always been like a mom to you.

"We had a fight - if you can even call it that, anyway, about a girl," you said, fiddling with a plastic cup. "We’re not on real good terms right now, I don’t think…"

Rio looked slightly surprised for a moment, then something seemed to click into place. She sighed and put her hands on your cheeks. "He’s a little bit slow," she said, giving you a sympathetic smile. "But he’ll get there. Eventually."

She then squished your face before immediately letting go, making you laugh. "Now go get yourself a jacket. I don’t want my only daughter to freeze to death."

You held your hands up in surrender as she pointed to the stairs, swiftly making your way down to the Moraleses’ flat. You had a spare key that Miles’s parents had given you a long while ago, when your parents used to have full on screaming matches in the middle of the living room every other day.

Within a couple minutes you’d grabbed one of the dozen coats, hoodies and jackets strewn about Miles’s closet, pulling the soft material over your shoulders as you took a glance around his room. Everything was about the same as you’d seen two or three weeks ago, save for a few new stickers laid about the desk.

There was an all-too-familiar sketchbook on the bed, one similar to what Miles had been scribbling in last night in your dorm, just in a different color. This one looked a bit more used, so you supposed he’d gotten it and packed it full of Gwen Stacy just after she left this reality. The thought put a bitter taste on your tongue.

-

A half an hour into the party, Miles still hadn’t showed up. He was supposed to be here at least twenty minutes ago, and you could tell his parents were getting both worried and annoyed. Rio asked around for her son as Jeff chatted with some colleagues. Suddenly, an auntie shoved a mic into Mrs. Morales’s hand, drawing everybody’s attention to her by clinking her glass. Jeff looked away in what could only be described as complete horror.

"Um, hi…"

You grinned as she continued with embarrassing stories about her husband, from little anecdotes from when they were dating to how he was almost 10lbs as a baby. It was then that Mr. Morales jumped in, quickly taking the mic away from her and giving his own speech.

"—And to my son…"

You grimaced as he raised his cup, looking around for someone who wasn’t there. The two of you met eyes instead, and you shook your head to tell him he hadn’t showed with an apologetic look. He turned to his wife, only for her to do the same. He cleared his throat before continuing.

"…The reason I do any of this in the first place. So.. I love you Miles."

Afterwards, the DJ put the records on again. People are talking, laughing, congratulating, creating a warm, buzzing atmosphere. You’re dragged away by a few little kids to play with them over by a small cluster of barrels, which they’ve decided is their ‘lair’. You play make believe with them for a little while as their parents stand a bit away with your own dad, occasionally glancing over at you to make sure the kids are behaving.

It’s then that Miles finally shows up, pushing the door open with two boxes in his arms. You follow him through your peripheral vision as he tries to avoid his parents, ultimately failing. You’re not sure what they’re saying, but it doesn’t seem to be going that well. He shows them the contents of his boxes, which doesn’t seem to impress them too much.

After a couple more words, Mr. Morales raises his voice, the DJ trying to divert people’s attention away by upping the volume but ultimately giving up.

"What do you got to tell me so bad?"

"You know what? Never mind."

Miles walked away, pulling his hood up as his dad yelled after him about him being grounded for two months. Must’ve been really bad, huh?

You waited for the music to come back on before you made your way to the exit, ruffling one of the little kids’ hair as he skittered away with his sister. You’re just going to check on him for a minute, just to see if he’s okay. You can do that… right? I mean sure, it might be awkward since things had ended like that last night, but still.

No one else was going to.

You let yourself into the flat once again, approaching Mile’s room with soft footsteps. You’re just outside the door when—

"Are these your drawings?"

You stop dead in your tracks. Your heart freezes right along with you. For a moment, you felt like a deer in headlights.

A feeling crawls its way under your skin, cold and slippery. You don’t know how you know, but you’re absolutely positive.

"Missed you too."

Gwen Stacy.

-

You’re on your way home, your hands rubbing up and down your arms to try to warm yourself up during the walk. You lived a little while away from Miles’s place, but it’s nothing you can’t walk.

You’d left the jacket on the Morales’ couch, turning on your heel and leaving the moment you heard her voice.

Damn it.

When had she gotten back? How had she gotten back? What was Miles’s reaction?

What were they doing now?

…Did you really want to know?

As your brain clouded over with questions, you took a wrong turn. Maybe two. Or three. Honestly, you didn’t know. Once you realized that this definitely wasn’t your neighborhood, you stopped yourself mid-step, looking around to see if anything was familiar at all.

Your eyes settled on a building, as there really wasn’t anything other than that around here other than some roads and bridges. One of the windows were glowing.

Then the whole structure began to rumble.

The ground beneath your feet started to turn… black…?

Wha—

-

You fell.

Not for too long, but you did.

You dropped around six feet onto hard concrete, twisting your ankle in the process. You cried out in pain and surprise.

"What the—?"

"Y/n?"

You looked up at that. You knew that voice.

Except, you didn’t.

The first thing you noticed is that this definitely was not the place you were in before. This place was more narrow, more dark. Light rain pattered on your skin as your hands supported your sitting position, wondering what the hell was going on.

The person who’d said your name was at the entrance to the alley you’d been.. teleported? to.

They took hesitant steps over to you, and, for some reason, you didn’t feel scared that this complete stranger had cornered you in a place you’d never even seen before.

Maybe the voice is what made you think it was alright.

Or maybe it was his face, which made your heart stop its primary function for the second time today.

"Miles?"

But he wasn’t Miles. At least.. not your Miles. This one was skinnier, just a little shorter. His accent had more of a Spanish touch to it and, most of all, his hair was braided into two sections that reached just below his shoulders.

No. He was very much not your Miles Morales.

Nevertheless, you knew he wouldn’t hurt you. There was something in his eyes — regret? Happiness? Sadness? Anger? Confusion? Probably all of the above.

He got closer, and closer, and closer. Once he reached where you were half-laying, he crouched down and tilted his umbrella until it sheltered your body more than his.

"…Are you hurt?" He asked, giving you a once-over. You just nodded, still putting all the pieces together.

Had you—

Did you—?

The boy in front of you studied your face for a little while, but then ultimately shook his head and shrugged off his jacket, handing it over to you.

"Come on. It’s cold outside."

[polyo-nym-y]

Bon Appétit~

————————————————————

————————————————————

Alastor x Female!Reader

| Warnings: 18+ content. MDNI!! ooc Alastor, established relationship(kinda), quick smut with no plot, biting, blood, cunnilingus, fingering, hair tugging etc |

[Part 2 <3]

Hello, I’m Nym! This is my first time posting my writing ever!

This horny little community has me so inspired I couldn’t help but write something small. (4,666 words to be exact ;3 tried to get the funny devil number).

Also fair warning I wrote this a bit intoxicated so I apologize if it’s poorly written. But I hope you heathens enjoy it nonetheless <3

————————————————————

Alastor retired to his tower as soon as the sky turned to a dark burgundy. He sat on his bench in front of his radio equipment. Fountain pen in hand and eagerly doodling away with a calm smile. Coat retired to its stand and his sleeves rolled to his elbows. Finding these late nights to be rare moments when he could allow himself to relax.

Though both his pen and music paused as he heard the trap door rustle behind him. “Hm?” Amused, he set his pen down and sits up from the bench. Coming around to the hatch he stood right beside it. A deep inhale taken as his grin grew recognizing the familiar smell of you. Bending at his hips as one hand swiftly opened the door. The other hand held out to offer assistance to his surprise guest.

The sudden opening of the hatch earned a gasp from you. Nearly losing your grip on the metal bars that you climbed up. You blinked at the hand offered to you before smiling and accepting the help eagerly.

“Now what do I owe this pleasure?” His usual cheery showman tone buzzed in your ears. With ease, he helped pull you up through the trap door, kicking it closed after. His eyes curiously noted the wicker basket you held in your other arm. “Well no wonder you had difficulty coming in!”

You chuckled nervously as he immediately points out the basket you brought. But what else did you expect? It’s Alastor, perceptive as ever. “The climb wasn’t so hard but by the time I had reached the door I was pretty tired…” you admitted with a glance running up his unusually relaxed form. His grin somehow managed to only make your own smile increase. “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything important. I couldn't sleep and thought I could just drop in and say hello!" You watched as one of his brows rose, earning an audible swallow from you. "Well, actually, I haven’t seen much of you today... or this week really. So I was honestly getting a bit curious about what you've been up to.” You wiggled the basket to him before setting it down on a small side table. “This is my apology for bargin’ on in.”

“Like always I appreciate your honesty, dear.” He folded his arms behind his back as he followed you to the table. With your back turned to him he took the time to slowly look you up and down. Noting the sweet white nightgown you wore that ended right above your knees. Your hair was tied back in a loose bun and you were wearing your slippers. All of this told him you really were in bed before deciding to come to him. His thoughts hesitated when he watched you open the basket. Pulling out a glass decanter of whisky and two matching cups to go with it.

You turned to face him, jumping slightly when you realized he had moved so close to you. With a laugh you waved him off. “Why don’t you put on some tunes for us, yeah?”

A staticky hum left him as he watched you for a few more seconds. He’d nod softly before spinning on his heels to do as you requested. One hand manually turning the music back on while the other subtly snapped behind his back. The music loud enough to just barely cover the sound of the hatch door locking.

He leaned against the desk of his radio station and watched you again. His grin soft as he couldn’t help but relax even more with the jazz on. “So! You really don’t have anything you wanted to talk about? Truly just stopping by to see what I’m doing ?” He pushed, teasingly.

You poured each other a glass before approaching him with his. He nodded in thanks as he took it from you. “Ha ha! No...” You stood in front of him with both hands nervously around your cup. His pointed questioning had you avoiding eye contact as you downed the small drink in one gulp. Fighting to not contort your face from the bitter taste.

He couldn’t help but laugh into his glass as he brought it up to his lips. “Really?” You caught his piercing gaze that was sent over the cup, before you watched him take a sip. “Because a nice glass of rye, jazz and sweet company.” He stares into his glass before flicking his gaze down to you again. “I really can’t help but feel like you’re trying to sweeten me up~”

The look he sent down had heat quickly washing over your body. Feeling the warmth settle on your cheeks and between your hips. He was teasing you but he didn’t seem upset by your presence. That thought seemed to encourage you, though you definitely needed another drink before you spilled your guts.

A nervous smile being sent to him as you put your finger up. “One- one moment.” You quickly approached the decanter where you left it on the side table. Your cup was filled with just a shot as you quickly knocked it back.

He finished his own drink before mindlessly setting the empty cup on the desk behind him. His smile stretched into a wide grin as he watched you desperately try to gain some liquid courage. He could easily help you right now, as he had an assumption on what this was about. There was no denying the odd connection the two of you had developed during your time here. Unfortunately, he was thoroughly enjoying watching you squirm and he was a very patient man when it came to torture.

Which is exactly what this felt like to you, torture. Staring into the empty cup for only a moment longer before leaving it on the table with the basket. You took rushed steps back up to Alastor as you shot your gaze up to meet his.

“Go on, darling, speak your mind.” He encouraged you with a shit eating grin. Your embarrassment and nervousness began to twist and settle in your stomach.

“I…” you slowly started, watching him tilt his head. Your gaze quickly shot to the side as the rest of your words came out rushed. “I would like to touch you-“

His brows shot to his hairline as he stiffened. He knew your intentions were along these lines. However, the sudden bluntness still caught him off guard.

A nauseating silence settled between the two of you, save for the jazz that still played in the background. You began regretting saying anything as your mouth opened to try and form words. You wanted to take it back with every fiber of your being. Eyes still glued to anywhere that wasn’t him. “I-uh wait no. I don’t mean like that- well I wouldn’t mind but- what I mean is- look you don’t have to say anything I know it’s a strong no and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable but I just needed to be honest-“

Alastors eyes never left you as he watched your reactions carefully. You never could lie to him and when you did it was never for long and never done well. So he knew your intentions were pure and your words were genuine. Usually, he wouldn’t even bother thinking it over. It never seemed of any interest to him in all his prior years of living and death. However, with you? He found himself weighing his options. Because he also wanted to touch you. He wanted to invade your personal space more than he would usually. You were different to him, it was apparent since day one.

“Alright.” he watched you snap your gaze up to him so suddenly he could’ve sworn he heard your neck crack. Shock written over your features as he pushed himself off from leaning against the desk.

“Wait, what?” You asked stunned as your eyes followed his movements. His body shifted slightly to the bench right beside him, smoothly lowering to sit.

“I’m giving you permission, my dear.” After making himself comfortable he motioned you to come closer. Obediently, you shuffled slowly up to him as he spoke again. “Although we will need to discuss terms first.”

You stopped a foot from his seated form. “Terms?” You questioned half listening. You were more focused on greedily taking in his relaxed state. Shamelessly appreciating the sight of him, no doubt thanks to the two drinks. Your eyes were on his lap, scanning down his exposed forearms and stopping on his large hands that ended with sharp red tips.

“Yes, darling, terms.” He noticed your eyes on other parts of him. Slightly bothered you weren't focused on what he was saying. His hand you were staring at quickly snapped at you and gestured to look up at him. “You didn’t think I’d give you such an honor without getting something in return, did you?” His words were laced with venomous mockery.

With your eyes now held with his you hesitated to speak. Feeling your cheeks start to burn more. “I didn’t.. expect to get to at all, so…” your words were so quiet and uncertain. His ears flicked atop his head as he tried to hear you clearly over the music.

“Speak up, dear, you must use your words properly if we are going to do this.” He leaned back into the bench as he glanced you up and down. Allowing you to deliciously simmer in your own embarrassment. “My terms are rather simple. If I allow you to touch me-“ he placed a hand against his chest. “Then it’s only fair I get to touch you too, right my dear?” Dramatically his hand flicked from his chest to gesture to you. Palm being held out for you to accept. “Deal?”

You swallowed dryly as you stared at his large hand. “You want to touch me?” Eyes flicking between his black palm and his red half-lidded gaze. “And we get like.. free roam? Touch.. anywhere?” The mere thought of having his hands on you had you pressing your thighs together. In this moment, you would let him do anything he wanted to you without hesitation. What you were really worried about was his comfort. If you were to upset him by making him uncomfortable, you’d want to die, again.

A static heavy chuckle was forced from him. The fingers on his outstretched hand flexed impatiently. “I wouldn’t say it’s a want from me.” He lied. “Rather so, curiosity? Yes, let's call it curiosity.” Even now he was going to ensure he had the upper hand. “But if you don't want me touching you and you’d rather just chinning*..” his offered hand curled his fingers in and then withdrew to his lap. “No skin off my nose, dear.”

Physically witnessing his hand draw back had panic rising in you. Like this rare opportunity was about to be lost forever. He watched amused as your eyes widened and you stumbled forward slightly with the force in which you spoke. “NO-“ you both cringed at the sudden rise in volume. “No- I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t want you to- it’s quite the opposite actually..”

He watched you shuffle closer until your knees hit his. Again, he noticed your gaze lingered on other parts of him rather than his eyes. “Then spill. What do you want?”

You chewed nervously on your bottom lip. “I.. I want your touch on me, Alastor. More than my want to touch you. You’d turn Hell into Heaven if I could only have your attention on me..” His smile widened when you finally raised your eyes to meet his again. “But I’m worried about upsetting you, Alastor. Having permission to freely touch you seems…too good to be true? And to hear you intend to touch me as well? Whether it’s a want or just curiosity I could care less. Fuck, Al, I’ll feed that curiosity however you want.”

A genuine and loud laugh rumbled from his chest. “Oh ho! what a desperate and pathetic display you are giving me.” He cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes on you. “What can I say? I suppose I’m feeling rather charitable tonight.” Slowly he leaned forward, his hands sliding down his thighs. His fingers gently wrap around your wrists. Watching carefully for any resistance to his touch. “And I promise, Mon Cher, I’ll let you know if I don’t like something. So you needn’t worry about upsetting me.” Truthfully, he’d be quick to wrench your hands away from any area he didn’t like. “You’ll do the same for me, right?”

With a sneaky smirk he brought your hands to his face. Gently grazing his lips across your knuckles. You couldn’t stop the shiver that ran down your spine as you watched him breathlessly. To his surprise though you shook your head no. “I won’t need to.”

A sadistic glint shined in his ruby eyes as he smirked against your hands. The gentle kindness he planned on showing you began to slip. “Oh? Is that so?” A sudden yank of your wrists had you falling into his chest. His warm hands glided down from your wrists to help guide your knees on either side of him. He fussed with your positioning until he was satisfied with your thighs straddling his lap. Taking a gleeful glance at your flustered expression and rigid body. “You sound so certain. What if I wanted to eat you whole? What would you say then?”

He leaned back into the bench as he observed you intently. Heat settled over your entire body as you stiffly fidgeted on top of him. Embarrassed, you didn’t want to rest your full weight on him. But his hands had a firm grip on your hips, pressing you down ever so slightly to keep you in place.

Sweaty hands hesitantly came to rest on his chest, fingers gently crawling up to the top of his shoulders. “What would I say?” your words slipped from your lips like a whisper. Your desire and need for him outweighed your nerves drastically. His hands squeezed the flesh at your hips when he felt you finally relax into him. Entranced, he watched a soft smile settle on your face before you spoke. “Bon Appétit.”

Chest heaving, nostrils flaring and eyes like a hungry animal. With those words, something snapped in him. It quite literally took everything in him in that moment to not simply swallow you whole right then and there.

His jaw clenched as a loud static began to swarm around the two of you. He felt his mouth water as he swallowed, having to clear the excess saliva that pooled around his tongue. Savor her, he repeated in his head, you must savor your meal. The buzzing static overtook the music completely until it disappeared with a loud pop, earning a flinch from you. His mouth opened with a purr “Merci.”.

Your breath hitched as he leaned down to close the space between you two. His warm lips ghosted across your own, so close yet so far. Every coherent thought you once had was muddled and drowned. The unexpected intimacy that Alastor was giving you had your heart hammering against your ribs. In that moment you decided firmly, you’d completely give in to him and this desire.

One hand of his shifted from your hip and up your side. Talons trailing up until his fingers laced in your hair, pulling the tie that held it up. As you felt your hair fall freely you tried to close the space between you completely. Lips hungrily wanting to capture his.

He was quick, however, as the hand that remained at the back of your head tightened its grip. Fingers firmly tugging at the roots to guide your head back. A desperate whine leaving you as he forced your lips away from his. “What happened to both of us getting to touch? Or is kissing off limits?” You asked half joking as he dipped his head to place a soft kiss under your jaw. His lips settled comfortably on your now exposed throat as he inhaled deeply.

“You are touching, mon cher. A lot more than anyone else has.” He reminded you with a smirk against your flesh. You felt his lips part as warm breath ghosted the vulnerable skin of your throat. Your fingers trailed further up from his shoulders and up the back of his neck. You shuddered against him as his warm tongue licked a wet strip up. “I wonder, do you taste as delicious as you smell?”

“Al-“ you let out a sharp yelp as you feel a hot stinging pain begin to bloom on your shoulder. Instinctively, with your fingers in his hair, you tried to yank his head away much like he did to you. But he refused to be removed from his tasty meal. He let a low growl out with his lips still suctioned to you, a warning. You hadn’t expected him to literally taste you but it was foolish of you to expect anything less from a cannibal.

Your thoughts began to fog as you felt him suck the blood from your wound. His cock twitched beneath you as if the blood he drank from you went straight to his groin. Any previous intentions on partaking on your end of the deal was long gone. You couldn’t care less about where your hands were. The only thing that mattered now was that his hands remained on you.

You bit your lip trying to hold in the small yelps in pain as he attacked the wound he made. Prodding and poking trying to coerce as much blood as he could without literally tearing a chunk from you.

Desperately, needing more than just his feasting mouth, you rolled your hips against his. You stuttered your movements as he sunk his teeth deeper into you in response. Another whimper left your parted lips as his name tumbled out like a prayer. “Alastor-“

He sighed through his nose, having to will himself to release your tasty flesh. Slowly blinking his eyes open as he lifted up with a suctioned pop. Leaning back to take in the beautiful sight of your bloody and bruised shoulder. He watches closely as beads of red quickly begin to pool and drip over your collar bone. Bleeding into the pure white of your nightgown.

“Beautiful, Mon Cher, absolutely beautiful.” His lips parted to show a bloody grin. His eyes were glazed over as if the taste of you was more intoxicating than the drink he had a moment ago. “You did so good.” You felt his grip in your hair loosen as his fingers brushed through. With his now free hand he began to smear the blood on your shoulder, earning a wince from you. “I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?” His hand cupped your cheek and you could feel your blood sticking your flesh to his, like glue. He pulled at your bottom lip with his thumb as he brought his face close to yours again. “Do you want a taste?”

Before you could even begin frantically nodding, he already captured your lips in his. Pulling back just enough to use his thumb to wrench your mouth open. You gave him no resistance as he dove back in. His tongue eagerly exploring the entirety of your mouth. Spreading the taste of your own blood.

He swallowed a muffled moan as both hands slipped to your hips. Fingers digging into clothed flesh as he grinded you into him. “See?” His lips parted from yours with a pink tinged dribble of saliva connecting you to him. “Delicious, aren’t you?”

Quickly, you licked the bloody spittle on his lips. “If I say yes will you-“ a moan interrupted your sentence as his hands continued to grind you against his hardened cock. “-f-fuck please just fucking touch me-“

“I am touching you, mon cher.” His hands slowed to grind on him at an agonizing pace. The friction slick as you fully drenched your panties and began to seep into the front of his pants. “Remember, use your words.”

“Alastor, p-please-“ your words trembled as you tried to retain some sense of composure. But the teasing feeling of him beneath his pants was going to drive you insane. With a shaky breath you leaned away from him. One hand grasping the hem of your nightgown and yanking it up to your chest. Your other hand sliding fingers under the hem of your underwear to pull them down ever so slightly. His gaze shooting down immediately to take in the erotic sight of your pubic hair barely poking out. “Please just eat me already.”

“How could I say no when you’re pleading so sweetly?” In a blink of an eye he had his hands holding you against him. With a chuckle he stood from the bench, his hands cupping your ass to carry you with him. Your own hands quickly grab his shoulders to keep yourself from falling.

You’re swung around as you hear crashing behind you. Alastors shadow-y tendrils quickly swiping his desk clear in order to make space for you. A gasp leaving you as your back is dropped onto the hard surface with a thud. His hands holding your legs at his hips by the pits of your knees. His taller frame towering over you as you lay sprawled under him.

The grin that spread across his face had you squirming. His warm hands pull you by your legs until your ass is completely off the desk. With only your upper half resting against the hardwood, your stomach does flips, feeling like you’ll fall. But his hold on you is firm as he lowers to his knees. Effortlessly, your legs are settled over his shoulders. You’re practically panting in anticipation as you feel him chuckle against your inner thighs. “Nervous, dear? You’re shaking.”

“Shut up-“ A groan is ripped through clenched teeth as he sinks his teeth into the plump flesh of your right thigh. Hissing, you latch your hand into his hair. He gave no reaction to your grip as he enjoys lapping at the new wound. One of his hands sliding up to give your ass a good squeeze.

You hadn’t realized you were clenching your eyes closed until they flew open. Your back arching off the desk as your breathing hitched. The feeling of his warm tongue running up your clothed slit had you feeling sparks. The blood on his tongue seeped into the already damp fabric, adding another stain to you. “F-Fuck- Jesus Christ-“ he ran his tongue up again slowly, ending with a nice flick to your clit.

“Careful, if you moan other men’s names I’ll become rather jealous.” He hummed against your left thigh as he weaseled a hand between your legs. Sharp talons grabbing hold of the fabric of your underwear and tearing it enough to freely expose his meal.

It was a struggle keeping your eyes opened as you leaned your head forward. Freezing, as you were met with Alastors gaze sent over your exposed sex. He was watching you intently as he brought his face closer to your aching core. “I-I think I’d like to see you jealous.”

“I’m sure you would, you naughty thing.” Finally, without anything blocking his touch, you felt him lap his wet muscle up between your folds. A wispy moan leaves your lips as you remove your hand from his hair. Fingers reaching back to ground yourself against whatever you could on his desk.

The taste of you saturated over his taste buds as a pleased groan rumbled in his chest. His hands wrap around your upper thighs in order to hold you in place. His eyes flicked up trying to see what he could of your reactions. He gave up rather quickly though, losing himself to you fully now.

The juxtaposition of his agonizing teasing now being replaced with determined hunger was almost overstimulating. You couldn’t stop the shake in your legs as he twisted his tongue inside of you. The unnatural length of it reached further than you expected.

His name tumbled from your lips so sweetly it only made him crave your taste more. Fingers digging into your hips as he pressed his face deeper into you. Suffocating himself on your scent as his tongue twisted and flicked inside. When his nose pressed against your clit he felt your walls clench. A cheeky smirk forming against your lower lips. A shudder ran down your spine when you felt his tongue slip out from you. But you didn’t feel empty for long as he easily slipped a finger into you, a second quickly following. You felt yourself forgetting how to breathe as he ruthlessly pumped his fingers into your heat. Erotic squelching filled the small space of his radio room. You hadn’t realized until now that the music was off, ensuring he could hear every sound your body offered him.

His tongue lazily licked your juice from his lips as his eyes flickered between wanting to peer at your face and wanting to watch your sweet pussy taking his fingers so well. “Good girl. Such a good girl, my dear.” You were a moaning mess, unable to respond any other way to his praises.

Your entire body tensed as he brought his lips back to your needy cunt. His mouth suctioned around your sensitive clit. Tongue swiping and flicking, assaulting the bundle of nerves. His fingers stopped their pumping as he pressed as deep into you as he could, fingers bending and focusing on a specific spot. He hummed casually as if he wasn’t making you see stars.

Your body lurched forward as both hands flew to grip his hair. “F-FUCK- A-Ah fuck.” He felt your walls clench around his fingers, cock twitching knowing he had you on that cliff. “So close- please p-please-“

“Hm? Wanting to cum already?” His tone was patronizing as he lifted his mouth from you. A whiny sound coming from you as that build up dimmed slightly, keeping you just before that edge. “I’ll allow it. Only if you’re a good girl and say my name as you cum, understand?”

“Y-Yes- just please-please please-“ Another pleased hum rumbled from him as he lowered back to your sopping heat. His lips suctioned around your clit once more, continuing to stimulate both spots. It only took a moment longer and you finally reached your peak. “ALASTOR-“ A pathetic mewl ripped from your throat as it crashed over you in waves. Every muscle in your body tensed, walls clenching and twitching around his fingers as he helped you through your orgasm. His mouth popping off of you as he wore a wide smirk, lips and chin glistening from the mixture of you and his own saliva.

His fingers didn’t stop massaging your walls until he felt your body relax. Only then did he slip his digits out to greedily lick them clean. His tongue finds its way back to the bite on your thigh. Lapping at the wound while it was still weeping blood. “Thank you for such a delicious meal, my dear.” He would purr as you were still trying to catch your breath. Shifting he moved your legs off from his shoulders in order to stand back up. His warm hands wrapping your legs around his waist as he stepped forward leaning into you. He helps lift you up just enough to scooch you fully on the desk once more. Your eyes lazily watch him loom back over you as you try to sit up on your elbows. His smile devious as he slips his red talons under his suspenders, slowly slinking them off of his shoulders as he purred down to you. “What do you say, darling, are you ready for dessert?”

And you then knew that your night was far from over…

————————————————————

*Chinning: 20s slang meaning ‘talking’.

[holy-amelie]

'You fell first but...' sfw (Sunday)

...he fell harder ˎˊ˗

·.༄࿔ characters: Sunday, you

·.༄࿔ pairing: Sunday x g/n!AE!reader

·.༄࿔ cw: no tw, fluff and hurt/comfort, non-native english author, written before 2.7, but contains spoilers/leaks, be careful! Can be ooc but this is how I see him at the moment. You are from the Astral Express here.

·.༄࿔ a/n: still need to remember how to write things properly qwq

You fell first, that's for sure.

It's even funny how quickly this young and charming Halovian found his way into your heart. It only took a polite smile at the first meeting to ignite this new, funny feeling deep inside your chest.

It seems there was a real reason people on Penacony spoke of him as the most eligible bachelor in this part of the universe.

Soft, calm, as if glowing from within. No wonder you were the one who got closest to him during the investigation. There was something special about Sunday that only attracted you more, beckoned you like a moth to a flame. Maybe it was the fact that you wanted to destroy his perfect shell, or the fact that you already saw through him.

All his little nervous habits, his quiet and a bit awkward chuckles, the way he pressed his lips together when he was unhappy with something, just to hide it all behind the facade of an all-forgiving and all-understanding host. And the way his eyes were sparkling when he was passionately talking about something important.

You saw glimpses of Sunday, not the head of the clan.

Of course, it's foolish to fall in love at first sight with someone you've just met and barely know. But you can't help your heart. Especially when his image doesn't leave your head for a minute and fills all your thoughts.

And, yes, it was even more foolish to expect him to suddenly fall in love with you in return. As the head of the clan, Sunday was always busy with more important things (even more important than it might seem at first glance). So all you had to do was quietly carry the burden of these irrational feelings inside you.

Did it get easier when Sunday revealed all his plans? No. Some things you did not agree with, some things you could understand yourself. Was it easier when he lost? Once again, no.

You seemed to be the only person from the Express willing to run after him no matter what. And you would have if Robin hadn't beaten you to it.

But... he fell harder.

For Sunday, life ended after he lost and lost everything: his position, his home, his sister.

Life is a rather ironic thing, so when he suddenly found himself on the Express, broken and lost, it felt like a cruel mockery. The people who were against him suddenly gave him a place he could consider his new home. Even if temporarily.

Among the entire crew, you remained the only person who didn't look at him with suspicion or even a kind of apprehension. Not at all. It was you and your unexpected concern for his well-being that helped him rise from the very bottom of existence.

Sunday was emotionally naked before you. He was choking back tears and begging for forgiveness, even though you had long since forgiven him. The once strong and reserved leader suddenly showed his true self - mentally tired, exhausted, so desperate for warmth.

That's when he finally realized that he craved your attention more and more. Sunday was willing to be alone with you for the rest of his life if it meant that all of his problems would finally fade into the background. He continued to live not only for the fulfillment of his and his sister's dreams, but also for you.

Aons, Sunday was willing to give up everything as long as your gentle presence continued to take away all his pain, to fill his hear with love and warmth, giving him new purpose.

No wonder your innocent and shy love finally started something new in the end.

Including his new life.

please, do not rewrite/copy/repost/translate my work without me knowing, you can always ask first, thanks

[ryescapades]

juno | wind breaker

— in which endo accidentally (or is it) discovers about your crush on him.

characters: endo yamato x gn!reader contents: fluff, petname (princess), some teasing, lovesick!endo ?? one(1) hint of possessiveness and violence, possibly OOC a/n: first wbk fic and it's for endo .. help what have i become /lh not proofread‼️ idk what's happening here ngl 1k wc

"well, well... look who do we have here,"

amusement seeps in to the cold evening air around you, drawled out by a voice you're all too well acquainted with. you startle, the cool evening air causing goosebumps to prickle on your skin.

knees pulled to your chest, you turn your head to see endo strutting to your little spot on the park bench, all in his tank top and loose checkered shirt glory. you immediately glance away lest your eyes decide to indulge themselves in the inked swirls on his stupidly toned arms.

endo stops just a few steps away from the bench, looking down at you with that peculiar look of fascination reserved just for you.

"why the long face, princess?" he catches your gaze, and you grimace slightly at the nickname he'd insisted on calling you. "what are you doing here?" you ask instead.

his little grin widens as he takes the last few steps, occupying the empty seat beside you. you tense, suddenly aware of the gap between you two. it's a decent amount of space, but you'd never felt so smothered before.

"i can ask you the same thing. shouldn't you be heading home by now? it's pretty late. don't want you getting kidnapped by a delinquent or something," he quips, and the jest doesn't pass by you as you let out a small huff. "i'll get going soon. just need a moment,"

endo glances at your passive form; chin tucked in between your knees and arms wrapped around your shins, your fingers fidget with the fabric of your long sleeves. he notices the troubled look on your face, obviously. as much as he loves teasing you, he's also curious about what's going through your mind right now.

he leans back, getting himself comfortable and draping one tatted arm over the back of the bench. "spill your thoughts, princess. heard that's an easy way to deal with problems,"

a faint blush forms on your face then, reminded once again of your current dilemma as you snap your head to give him a reply but you falter when you catch sight of his figure.

your blush deepens. too caught up in your head a few minutes ago, you failed to notice that he's manspreading beside you.

endo subtly perks up, your flustered state never a dull view to his cerulean orbs. "oh?? what's gotten you so red like that, huh?" you audibly click your tongue at the call out. "you're worsening my mood, endo,"

he chuckles at your glare, lifting a shoulder in a casual shrug. "sorry, sorry. i was just trying to help. really," is what he's saying, but the mirth is still heavily laced in his lilted tone.

your mind wanders again, though your scrutinizing eyes never drops from him before you relent begrudgingly. low as the leaves rustling in the breeze, you mutter almost incoherently, "someone confessed to me,"

halting, endo's smirk drops only for a second before that sly smile appears on his face again, your words slowly but surely registering in his head. "you didn't know how to handle it, did you?" he concludes.

you sputter, not expecting him to guess something so correctly. "i-i was— he didn't—" the ravenette barks out a laugh and the embarrassment just multiplies inside you. frustrated at his frivolity, a drawn out groan escapes from your mouth, "god, you're annoying!"

"whaaat? i just find it funny that someone like you gets shy over some measly confession," he muses, causing you to gape at him offendedly. "what does that even mean?" you grit out, "the guy confessed and didn't even let me say anything. he just... said he's willing to wait however long and immediately left! how was i supposed to react to that?" you squawk, finally having had enough of bottling it up.

there's a short snicker before it mellows out to a hum. "so? what's actually the issue then? have you decided an answer yet?" he raises a perfectly-shaped eyebrow.

your pulse quickens, the crease in your forehead deepening in agitation as you awkwardly glance around the empty park save for the two of you. "yeah, w-well... i kinda..." you're mumbling under your breath at this point, "have a crush on someone else,"

you never expected him to hear, given how quiet your voice is, but unfortunately for you, nothing gets past his perusing senses. nothing about you, at least.

you're lucky your scouring gaze falls on him, for you get to catch the telltale sign of him wanting to get a cheeky comment out. quickly, you scramble to kick away the pyre before a flame is even lit up.

"i'm not telling you who it is!" you sneer.

endo grins, jet black curls brushing his eyes as he tilts his head to the side. his next question comes out promptly, "why? is it me?"

...whelp, looks like the pyre is already burnt to crisp.

"wha—" speechless and immensely mortified, your mouth gapes open and close yet no proper words spill out. it's also not helping that your whole body just seems to burn hotter than the sun, tinges of crimson creeping up to your cheeks and ears like it's nobody's business.

the man in front of you blinks once, twice, before his lips slowly tug into a cheshire smile. his eyes feast on your red cheeks, the organ rapidly beating in his chest literally singing at the endearing sight.

your skin is too hot, clothes too icky, dignity too lost to be found. you clamber to your feet, grabbing your bag on the ground as you turn away from him. "i'm going home," you give your parting words, albeit in a hushed whisper before you rush off, leaving behind an awestruck man who's still reeling from the whole conversation.

an inked hand reaches up to cover the bottom half of his beaming face, a breathless chuckle warming up his palm. gingerly, he opts to cover his whole face with both his hands instead as he feels his own cheeks tinting with that familiar pinkish hues. "fuck," he grunts.

if only you knew how much, much more infatuated he is by you, now growing tenfold after confirming you're just as captivated by his untamed and roguish charm.

surely you won't mind that he's planning to act out on the split second of bloodlust that manifested itself inside his gut after hearing about the confession, yeah?

me running away from the "endo wouldn't do/say this!!!" comments 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️

anw what's wrong with guys and their slutty off-shoulder clothes huh

@maruflix @pixelcafe-network @17020 @stunies (dunno who else wanna be tagged in my future wbk works so yea)

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[happyhauntt]

a touch of colour — eddie diaz.

writing masterlist | askbox

─── summary: eddie and chris' home is freakishly empty. you decide to redecorate a little.

─── pairing: eddie diaz x reader.

─── warnings & notes: fluffy fluff. no use of y/n, this was just supposed to be a short drabble but it ran aay from me and eddie might seem a little ooc but i don't even care it's so cute.

─── word count: 2.7k.

     “BUCK, CAN I BORROW YOUR KEY to Eddie’s place, please?”

     Your arrival at the station house isn’t preceded by any warning, and though it isn’t your intention to sneak up on Buck, he doesn’t seem to hear you coming. A panicked shriek tears itself from his throat as he drops what he’s holding, and the spray bottle full of cleaning fluid clatters to the floor at your feet.

     An amused smile curls at your lips as he tries to play it off, ducking his head to hide the embarrassment blossoming in bright red spots across his cheeks.

     “Uh, hey.” The words stumble out of Buck and he coughs, trying to recover what remains of his dignity. “You know, sneaking up on people isn’t good for your health. What if I’d panicked and thrown a punch or something?”

     You quirk an eyebrow at him. “You did panic, Buck. Seems like it’s worse for your health than mine. Key, please?”

     “Eddie’s just up in the loft, I can grab him if you want.”

     It’s your turn to look a little sheepish. “Please don’t. It’s a surprise. Or it will be a surprise, if you let me borrow your key. I’ll return it tomorrow, I promise, and I’m not going to let a bunch of raccoons loose in there or anything━”

     Buck blinks. The hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, just enough to let you know that he’s teasing. Mostly. “I wasn’t worried, but now I am.”

     “I’m saving the raccoons for your apartment, actually,” you tell him, and now you’re not even really asking anymore, know that Buck will inevitably break because you’re Eddie’s girlfriend, and he actually likes you, and most importantly, his insatiable curiosity will not allow him to deny you. Hand outstretched, you wiggle your fingers expectantly. “Key, please.”

     He huffs at you as if you’ve asked him to scale Mount Everest in nothing but swim trunks, rather than the perfectly reasonable request you’ve actually made, and makes a show of tugging the key to Eddie’s house off the keyring before passing it along to you.

     “I have only one condition,” says Buck, a mischievous gleam in his eye as he presses the key into your palm.

     You watch him warily. You’ve been dating Eddie, and subsequently been acquainted with Buck, long enough to recognise that look. “What?”

     “Whatever you’re doing, make sure you film his reaction. I’ve got a funny feeling he’s gonna freak out.”

     A nervous laugh bubbles in your throat, and you can’t help rolling your lips together as you pocket the key. It doesn’t take a genius to know that Eddie Diaz isn’t overly fond of surprises, but… fuck, you hope this one goes down well.

      “I’ll keep you posted, Buck.” You offer him a two-fingered salute and turn on your heel, hurrying out of the firehouse before Eddie catches you sneaking around.

      What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him, right?

     Here’s the thing.

     The first time Eddie invited you back to his place, you hadn’t really seen it. A euphoric haze had clouded all rational thought in your brain, because this brilliant guy you’d fallen head over heels for was so obviously guarded, and you’d been so happy the day he’d kissed you and invited you back to his place for coffee.

     You’d been dating for three months by that point, and you’d wandered in and out of his house without really seeing anything except for him.

     Meeting Christopher had gone much the same way. On the drive over you’d been rattling with nerves so much that you’d had to pull over on the freeway and shake out the cramp in your hand after white-knuckling the steering wheel. Your heart had thudded so hard in your chest that you worried Eddie would be able to hear it from the other side of the room.

     There had been nothing to worry about, in the end, and almost a year on, you’re certain that neither of these boys can be pried out of the space they’ve created in your heart. Somehow, without really noticing, the pair of them have made a home there, built on a foundation of blood and muscle and all the love in your body.

     You’re not sure your heart would know how to beat without them now.

      And you love them, you love them, you love them both with everything you have…

     … but this damn house is driving you insane.

     There’s nothing wrong with it, in particular. It’s small and functional, perfect for the little family it shelters. Beige walls, basic furniture, sparse decorations that Eddie definitely had nothing to do with, and that’s sort of… it.

     Now, you’re not an interior decorator, and you’d managed to miss it the first few times you visited, but now it’s like the blank walls are mocking you. Now you’ve seen it, you know, and the stark bleakness of this house has become a glaringly obvious problem that you’ve finally decided to tackle.

     Unlocking the door with Buck’s key, you manage to nudge it open with your hip, hands and wrists weighed down with Target shopping bags that you dump on the floor the moment the door is closed. Tucking Buck’s key back into your pocket ━ Eddie gave you a key almost six months ago, but you’ve managed to lose four of them since, so it’s widely agreed that it’s best you borrow Eddie’s or Buck’s or Carla’s whenever you need to ━ you turn to the sparse open space of the kitchen/diner.

     Hands settling on your hips, a slow breath escapes through your teeth as you survey the house. Christopher’s room is the only one with any personality, and you wouldn’t dare intrude on his privacy in that way anyway. Eddie’s room, similarly, feels off-limits.

     But the rest of the house? Fair game.

     When Eddie stumbles through the front door at the end of his shift, he doesn’t notice it right away. Not your bag hanging on a hook by the door, or your shoes tucked neatly against the wall. His head feels like it’s filled with cotton after a twelve-hour shift, and he’s simply grateful that Carla offered to drop Christopher off later, rather than have Eddie come pick him up after his shift.

     He doesn’t notice you lingering in the kitchen with a bottle of beer in your hand until you clear your throat, and then he looks over, and a tired smile spreads over his face.

     “That for me?” he asks, as hold out the beer bottle towards him, drops of condensation soaking your fingers.

     “It’s definitely not for me.” You wrinkle your nose playfully as he accepts the drink, and you lean over the counter to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. You hand over Buck’s key, and with it, all the anxiety you’ve felt since it first landed in your possession that morning. “Give this back to Buck for me? If I lose another one, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

     Eddie chuckles and tucks the key into his pocket. “Buck didn’t mention you came by the firehouse.”

     “I asked him not to.” Your voice wavers, just a little. The way you’re picking at a loose bit of skin near your thumb lets him know you’re nervous, and he reaches out with his free hand, curling rough fingers around your own. Unable to help yourself, a deluge of words start to babble out of you. “I did a thing. And I’m aware that you may not like the thing, and it almost certainly wasn’t my place which I’m realising now, but it seemed like a pretty harmless idea at the time?”

     “Baby━”

     “And if you hate it, I can take it all away! We can pretend I never did it, it’s just that your walls were driving me freaking insane, like which decorator decided that beige was a good base colour because I would like to have a word━”

     “Hey!” A gentle squeeze of your hand grabs your attention, and when you look back at Eddie, the sight of him knocks the breath of you. You never knew eyes could be so big and brown and full of love, and even though there’s a little humour glinting in there at your expense, you still find it a little difficult to breathe.

     Fuck, you love this man.

     “What am I supposed to hate, exactly?” There’s a lilt of laughter in his voice, a gentle quirk to the corner of his mouth.

     You want to kiss him until it blossoms into a full-blown grin. You hope you’re lucky enough to make this man laugh forever.

     The look on his face helps to ease the tension in your shoulders. Slowly, you reach out and take the beer bottle from his grip, setting it on the counter. Instead, you replace it with your own hand, threading your fingers through his, a little chilly where the bottle pressed against his skin.

     “Let me show you.”

     Guiding him by the hand, you lead him through to the living room, and at first, he’s not sure what’s changed. There’s still the couch, and the TV, and the coffee table he knows you’ve always hated because it’s glass, and who has a glass coffee table, Eddie, you're a firefighter and this feels like a recipe for disaster!

     (You’ve seen way too many movies where characters end up crashing through a glass coffee table but you still think it’s a valid point.)

     And then he sees them.

     He spots the first one next to the television; a picture of Chris from a few months ago, the first time all three of you went to the beach together. He’s grinning at the camera and there’s a dab of ice-cream on his nose from where you swiped him just a moment before. Eddie remembers taking this and sending it to you.

     It wasn’t the first moment he realised he loved you, not by a long shot, but he hadn’t said it yet, and that day on the beach had cemented your place in his heart even further.

     The picture is small, sitting in a quirky silver frame that you’ve glued a few seashells to.

     The next two are over on the mantel. A photograph of the 118 in Bobby and Athena’s backyard last summer; Bobby’s frowning in the foreground, having been bullied into wearing a Kiss The Cook apron by Buck and Hen, while the rest of them are howling with laughter behind him. The other is a picture of Christopher and Shannon cuddled together beneath the Christmas tree.

     Tucked between them, bizarrely, is a little wooden figurine of a runner duck wearing galoshes. This one, he knows, came from your personal collection.

     Eddie’s heart stutters in his chest as he turns, finally, to the big thing. The wall behind the couch has always been depressingly bare, a dull expanse of beige paint that he’s always sworn he’d do something with, eventually.

     Hell, the whole house is bare. And depressing. This, he’s ready to admit, even if the reason for it used to sting a little bit.

     Before now, the only personal touches in his home belonged to Christopher. Report cards and drawings stuck to the fridge with kitschy magnets from tourist spots. An ever-changing pile of video games stacked on the floor next to the TV. A dinosaur-print throw that was dragged from Christopher’s bedroom on a lazy Sunday that hasn’t quite managed to migrate back there yet.

     It was never that way on purpose. At first, he thinks, it was a reluctance to put down roots. Life was hectic enough, with his work schedule and Christopher switching schools. Before Carla, Eddie hardly had a moment to breathe, let alone think about decorating their home beyond the bare minimum required to get by.

     And then, he thinks, it might have been guilt.

     He doesn’t dare to dwell on that for too long. He feels your hand in his own, steady as a rock, and stares, glassy-eyed, at the wall you’ve managed to transform into something… something that feels like home.

     A collage of wooden picture frames are scattered over the surface of the wall, in varying hues of warmth that contrast nicely with the beige that peeks through the cracks. A beige that, formerly, kind of made him want to scratch his eyes out. He hadn’t quite realised that until now.

     Dozens of smiling faces peer down at him. A handful of memories he holds most dear, and each of them sends a flush of warmth through his chest.

     There’s the day Chris was born, and he’s staring at this tiny baby in his arms as if he’s holding the sun and stars themselves. There’s Buck and Chris at the zoo, posing near the penguin exhibit. There’s Eddie, on the day he was certified as a full-fledged member of the LAFD, shaking Bobby’s hand. There’s even a picture where he’s fallen asleep on the couch, and his sisters are brandishing Sharpies like the little demons they are, drawing a moustache and beard that took days to properly fade away.

     It’s such a little thing, really. They’re just pictures. But his throat feels tight and his eyes are wet and it doesn’t feel little to him. Not at all.

     “You thought I’d hate this?” He’ll never admit that the words come out a little choked up.

     You shrug. “You’re not a fan of surprises.”

     “I might be now.”

     And you both know it’s not true, that Eddie will never be that guy, but this is fine. This is perfect, and he’s damn sure it might be the nicest thing any girlfriend’s ever done for him.

     He turns to you, a thousand more questions on the tip of his tongue, when he notices you’re holding your phone up with your free hand. A confused furrow appears between his brows.

     “Buck,” you tell him, and it really doesn’t require further explanation, but still you add, “He thought you’d freak out. Asked for evidence.”

     “Ah.” Eddie nods. You put your phone away as he winds his arms around your waist, pulling you close enough to kiss the tip of your nose. “I’m not freaking out.”

     “I noticed.”

     “Thank you,” he says, and kisses you again. This time his mouth slides against yours and lingers there for a few seconds, slow and gentle. “I can’t help but notice you’re not in any of the pictures.”

     Your cheeks turn a rosy pink. “That would have been a little presumptuous of me, Mr. Diaz. And I was already hijacking your home for my own selfish agenda, so…”

     “Wanna hijack it some more?”

     The question slips out without any warning, and you blink up at your boyfriend in bewilderment. “Uh?”

     Eddie smiles, wide and wonderful, and even though it’s not possible to fall more in love with him, you think you do.

     “I talked to Chris about it a while ago,” he tells you, his thumb rubbing slow circles against your hip. “I was just waiting for the right time to ask you. And then you went all House Flipper anyway━”

     “I did not go all House Flipper!”

     “━ so it feels like the right time to ask.”

     You watch him for a moment, all soft at the edges. “You want me to move in with you?”

     “I think you’ve got a tartan throw that would look great in here,” he says teasingly, “and that little duck is part of a collection. He might get lonely.”

     “He might,” you concede with a hum.

     There is enough space on that mantel for the whole family.

     You feel like there’s a tiny sun in your chest, like you might honest-to-God be glowing from the inside out right now, and when you pull Eddie down so you can kiss him again, you know without a doubt that the answer is yes.

     There are a hundred things to figure out. You have a lease to get out of, and an apartment filled with enough clutter to furnish ten houses, and you’ve really got to figure out a solution for the key situation, because it’s getting ridiculous.

     But in this moment, none of that matters. It’s you, and Eddie, and Chris, and a bare apartment suddenly filled with a lifetime of potential, and you just know everything is going to be fine.

     And you hope, for a moment, that he’ll let you replace the couch next.

[prxtze-l]

Sunshine

Clarisse La Rue x fem!Aphrodite kid!reader

ᝰ.ᐟ If somebody told you a year ago that you'd be spending your summer at a summer camp for demigods after being chased by a cyclops, you probably would've shrugged them off as crazy. What's even crazier though, is finding out your presumably dead mother is actually the Greek goddess of love. I guess that explains the sudden glow up you had mid-winter break after you dreamt about a pink glowing symbol hovering above your head one night.

ᝰ.ᐟ warnings: probably ooc Clarisse, tooth-rotting fluff, I think that's all

ᝰ.ᐟ a/n: I've only read the first book so I'm sorry in advance if some stuff are wrong, I literally love her sm I can't even

‎♡‧₊˚🧸🎀

Stumbling on overgrown tree roots, you literally ran for your life as the ground shook with each of the cyclops's stomps. You might be wondering how you got here in the first place.

You were peacefully listening to music with your headsets on, admiring the passing trees as the bus' movements combined with your music began to lull you to sleep. However, it was interrupted when your body jerked in your seat when the bus abruptly stopped.

Opening your eyes, you saw the bus driver ushering the passengers out and naturally you followed. Turns out, the bus broke down and you all had to wait until the driver finished fixing what was wrong. Since you figured it would take a while, you began to wonder off from the crowd of passengers when you saw a butterfly fluttering in the wind. You clutched your backpack's straps and began trying to follow where the butterfly would go.

After wondering around, you eventually lost sight of the insect so you decided to head back... If it wasn't for the looming shadow you noticed when you looked down at your newly bought white shoes. Every hair on your body raised with alarm as you didn't even think to look up and started to run without even looking where you were going.

Your body was going on autopilot as you ran faster than you've ever had in your entire life (besides that one time someone thought it was funny to toss a cockroach at you).

Your legs started to burn from all the running and you contemplated whether you should just ditch your backpack to be able to run faster. But the rational side of your brain was screaming at you to not lose the stuff you've just bought. You spent the past few days staying with one of your old friends who lived away from you and you both ended up shopping for a lot of things during your time there.

Anyway, back to where we were. The cyclops started to gain up on you and you almost lost hope of ever getting out of there alive when a pine tree on top of a hill caught your eye. As if clockwork, you started to run faster with the little bit of energy you had left and started to run up the hill. When you reached the top of the hill, you saw a barn near a field of strawberries.

Your moment of awe was cut short when you heard the loud sounds of the cyclops. Every muscle in your body was begging for rest and you couldn't even run anymore as you collapsed near the pine tree waiting for your inevitable doom.

However, what you didn't expect was for the monster to come to an abrupt stop just a few feet away from your limp body. Huffing and growling in anger. You on the other hand was trying to process why the monster stopped. The sound of your heavy pants filled the suddenly quiet but tense atmosphere. Your eyelids felt heavy and it finally dawned on you that you had earned some scratches while trying to run through the forest and all the cuts and scrapes started to hurt. The last thing you heard before you lost consciousness was the sound of a war cry.

ଓ༉‧.⭒ֶָ֢⋆.

The next time you woke up, you were on a soft bed. It took a moment but when things started to register in your mind, you shot up from your laying position and started to whip your head in every possible direction trying to find any semblance of familiarity.

Your frantic movements paused when you heard the sound of the door opening. It was a tall girl, probably your age. "Morning, sunshine. I'm assigned to tour you today." she grumbled. You were probably gawking for way too long because she spoke again "well, what are you waiting for? We don't have all day. Don't worry about your stuff."

Without wasting time, you hopped off the bed and put on your stained white shoes (which you noted that you'll have to clean when you had the chance). You noticed your cardigan was hung on the headboard so you took it and put it on. Now that you had time to check over yourself, you realized that all the cuts and bruises you had were completely gone and that you were still wearing the shirt and pants you were previously wearing.

You ran to the nearest possible reflective surface. The bow you were wearing before was also on the desk beside the bed so you tried to do something decent with it. Clarisse, on the other hand, was surprisingly waiting patiently while you tried to fix your hair. 'Definetly an Aphrodite kid'

"Done. What do you think? Do I look okay?" You asked her, straightening out your cardigan.

She did a once over and she had to admit, you clean up good. "You look fine, sunshine." And with that, she lead you out of the barn house and began to tour you around the camp, also explaining things on the way because she had a hunch that you probably didn't even know anything. Clarisse wondered how you even survived for that long outside.

The tour ended when you approached a cabin numbered 10. "And here is your cabin, your stuff's already inside." You stopped fiddling with your hands (a habit you developed when you were nervous or shy). "Thank you, Clarisse." She introduced herself right after you both left the barn and in turn you also introduced yourself.

"Sure. Whatever." And with that, she left you to your own devices.

Your half siblings were pretty nice to you and you were grateful for that. You didn't know what you would've done if you weren't close with anyone. You hated feeling isolated.

Everyday was unique on its own, sometimes you were by yourself reading a book you brought with you or you were with your siblings, following them wherever they'd go. Sometimes you would even see Clarisse with her half-siblings whenever you'd pass by the sparring grounds.

You'll never miss a chance to wave at her everytime you'd see her. When she was alone, you'd always try to get closer to her. You've been trying to talk to her ever since you found out that she was the one who lead the attack against the cyclops that almost killed you. Also it wouldn't hurt to befriend someone other than your siblings. It started with her trying her best to shake you off but you never seemed to get the hint.

You were trailing after your siblings like usual when Clarisse and two of her half siblings approached your group. "Sunshine! With me, I said." She called out. You pointed to yourself to make sure you weren't assuming things. "Yes, you."

She and her siblings turned around and started walking towards the girls' bathroom expecting you to follow. You stood there for a bit before you rushed to catch up to them.

When you got the bathroom, all of you were in a standstill. You didn't dare to make a move, their imposing figures standing taller than you, making you more intimidated. Eventually, you broke the silence, "did I do something wrong?"

"Leave us." Clarisse told her siblings.

After they left, Clarisse started to close the gap between you until you were merely inches apart. "Why do you keep following me?" She asked in an irritated tone.

"I– I just wanted to thank you for saving me. I heard you were the one who lead the attack against the cyclops that chased me. Also I was wondering if we could be friends?" You internally cursed yourself when you stuttered.

Her heated gaze lifted slowly to a more relaxed one and she stepped away to give you some space. It seemed like she wasn't expecting you to answer like that. "Alright. You seem worth the trouble."

After that, you seemed to never leave her side. At that point, everyone always assumed you were near when she was around. Trailing after her like an excited puppy. After a while, she'd let you touch her, whether it was just brisk skin contact or you grabbing her arm whenever you were excited, surprising everyone.

ଓ༉‧.⭒ֶָ֢⋆.

You showed an interest in the bow and arrow after you saw some campers practice shooting when you and your siblings were passing by. You wanted to learn but you were too shy to ask anyone to teach you.

That was until one day, after breakfast, you approached Clarisse at her table. You didn't know anyone else that well you could ask so, you decided that Clarisse would be the best person, since your siblings didn't show any interest in the sports.

You waited until she wasn't talking since you knew interrupting a conversation was rude. You called her name. "Clarisse?" The conversation quieted and everyone's attention was suddenly on you. You felt embarrassed since you weren't used to the attention. "Yes, sunshine?" Clarisse faced you.

Swallowing your saliva, you tried to find your voice. "I wanted to ask if you could teach me how to use a bow and arrow?" You avoided her gaze since you felt your face started to heat up. Clarisse was not expecting you to ask her that. Usually new comers would ask Luke or anyone other than her, but you did.

"Sure. Meet me at the shooting range." Her and her siblings stood up from their table and walked towards the fire to burn their offerings. "Thank you!" With that, you ran back to your siblings trying to suppress a squeal. Truthfully, you sort of had a crush on Clarisse for a while now. Your siblings looked at you like you grew three heads when you told them. Although they still supported you anyway.

You didn't know if it was the way she always seemed soft towards you compared to anyone else, or when she would have that look of pride whenever she won at something, or maybe it was the fact that you'd always meet her eyes across any crowd. But one thing was a fact, and that was you being totally whipped for Ares's daughter.

With Clarisse, she had to roll her eyes at the way her siblings would often tease her about you. Everytime you and her would cross paths (where you'd always wave at her with that stupid smile that made her heart melt) her siblings would nudge her with knowing stares and smirks or make comments like "hey Clarisse, isn't that your girlfriend?" or the occasional "when are you gonna ask her out?" which she'd just huff at.

Later that day, you and Clarisse would spend the rest of the day in the shooting range where she taught you the proper stance and how to aim properly. She had to admit, you were a fast learner. You were doing fine on your own, she only jumped in to occasionally give you tips. Sometimes people would stare curiously at you two, however you were oblivious since you were focused on hitting the target and Clarisse would glare at them to which they'd leave you two alone.

By dinner, you managed to hit the bullseye. "I did it! Clarisse, did you see that?!" You were jumping from excitement. Clarisse was subtly smiling with pride. "Yep. You did it, sunshine." You ended up hugging her out of excitement and it's seems neither of you even realize what you did until you did and quickly pulled away.

You cleared your throat, "sorry." and looked down in embarrassment. Clarisse was still processing what happened as she just stood there. You two just stood there in awkward silence. "Uhm... It's getting late. Thank you for teaching me today." You gathered your courage and eventually placed a quick peck on her cheek. You ran away after that.

Meanwhile, Clarisse touched her cheek where you just kissed her. Your perfume still lingering in the air and a barely noticeable kiss mark on her cheek was present.

"You're gonna kill me someday, sunshine." She smiled to herself.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Vampire dick grayson… please i’m begging you i’ll give you my first born if you write stuff for him ONG

For clarification; I had a look over a comic storyline where dick is the king of vampires and he’s a complete cunt, so if this dick seems a little ooc it’s because it’s based on that version of him.

‘You got a staring problem or?’ You left the question to trial off as you were forced to look at the monster across from you who wore the face of a close friend.

Dick chuckled, his newly acquired fangs on full display when his cruel smile widened across his face as he closed the distance between the two of you until he was mere inches from your face. ‘I find your attempts to be valiant and brave in the face of fear rather humorous.’

You tried to stop yourself from wincing from the foul and warm stench of blood on his breath, and instead focus on how funny his face would look when you smack him just to wipe that smug look upon his face. ‘Glad to have entertained you, can I go now?’ You asked sarcastically, face as still as stone, even when Dick grips your face in his hand and draws you in closer as your foreheads touch briefly.

‘Now why would I do such a thing when I’m just starting to see the appeal in keeping you here, away from everyone else out of my own selfish need to keep you all for myself.’ Dick replied as his eyes trailed from your face to your neck, just where he could see your pulse beating beneath the skin deliciously, and you felt every need to hide it…if only your hands weren’t bound to your sides…

‘However the idea of you being under my thumb is often the more tempting thought.’ Dick adds on as though he was getting torn between the two ideas but you knew he wasn’t, not even in the slightest, and given how your plan has worked out thus far you were feeling as though escaping was only one half of the plan and survival was the other half.

You were stuck in this big and confusing house with the supposed king of the vampires, and you weren’t certain you’d be able to even be able to step outside the door without him summoning his minions to drag you back. Only to let you go again and see how far you’d get before he has you dragged back to him like this was all some form of fun for him, as though he were a cat playing with it’s food.

‘You were once my friend Dick.’ You tell him through gritted teeth as memories of such simpler times began to flood through your mind, reminding you of how you’ve lost and gained in the same breath. ‘No. You were once my best friend and you threw that all away the day you killed Bruce, and for what? Power? Control? Complete submission from everyone? What!’ You shouted out the last part in desperation as to know the reason why.

Dick’s face became still, no emotion flickered through it, not even is usually expressive eyes held any emotion at all and before you could ask what was so seemingly difficult about your question; there was a moment where his mouth moved but no sound came out as all you remembered before everything faded to black was the sensation of fangs piercing your neck.