#like yeah there may be some ‘woah i’m not used to this’ feelings

[mars-ipan]

my mom keeps describing the steroid weight gain i’m probably going to experience as “swelling” and it is like. mildly unnerving me

[destinyisastar]

Memories of You

Summary: Charlie wants to try an exercise that allows sinners to visit their memories to find a memory or person that makes them remember a time that they were good. Who better to test this out than their Hotelier!

Alastor x Teen Daughter Reader PLATONIC

Genre: Angst

More info: (This is just something I made up about the power to travel through memories so it's not canon so don't really take that seriously!) I imagine the daughter to be an artist in this story also fyi reader in this story has a crush on a boy so take that as you will! Also, in some parts Alastor will be called Past Alastor.

Trigger Warnings: death, mentions of assault

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“Must you use me as an example in your exercise?” Alastor asked whose grin is seemingly stretched even more so than regular, “May I remind you that I am not your guest here!”

“Aw, what’s the matter bambi? Too scared of a simple little exercise?” Teased Lucifer.

“You stay out of this! Why are you even here? You are no longer needed!” Alastor faces Lucifer with a grin so large his face may as well bleed.

“I’m here for Charlie of course! You’re the one that isn’t needed!” Lucifer raises his staff wanting to hit Alastor on his head.

 “O-Okay!!” Charlie gets between her father and Alastor, “Look Alastor, I know you aren’t a guest, but I feel like they need an example of the past, just a moment, a simple glimpse of what a happy time was like for you!”

“I have my doubts about happy times in his life!” Lucifer laughs.

“Uh yeah, I don’t think we should look for “happy moments” with Mr. Freak Face” Angel Dust comments, “I have plenty of happy moments to go around…. You can be one of em too eheh!” He wiggles his eyebrows at Husk, but the bartender huffs and turns around folding his arms.

“No! Just, maybe if they see it from you, they wouldn’t be as scared to see what happy moments were for them. And maybe if they see what a happy moment was for you, they may want to see those memories for themselves, so they can remember a time where they were happy, a time where life was good for them! It doesn’t even have to be a memory it could just be a person you cared for!” Charlie excitedly tells Alastor.

Alastor huffs, “Fine… but only for a moment.” He turns to look downward to Lucifer, “I don’t want you,” He points his staff to Lucifer, “snooping around, or anyone for that matter in my memories. What was in the past stays in the past!” Alastor laughs.

“Alright! Dad if you will please!” Charlie smiles.

Lucifer nudges Alastor’s arm with his pointer finger.

“What are you doing?” Alastor sneers at the king of hell.

“This is how its going to work freak face, I’ll simply tap a part of you to make way into your memories, I don’t like it either but deal with it.”

Alastor huffs when a black portal appears before them. Its dark emptiness makes the guest shiver from the low blows of the wind.

“The hell is that?! Is that his soul or something?” Angel Dust asks.

“No, its more like a teleporter of sorts, right dad?”

“Sure, let’s go with that.”

“Can we hurry this up? I would rather we get this done quick!” Alastor walks towards the portal.

“Oh, it should be done quick since there shouldn’t be many people you cared for anyways or any happy moments for that matter!” Lucifer laughs once again walking to the portal with Charlie, Vaggie and Angel Dust. Husk and Nifty stayed behind to take care of the Hotel.

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Through the portal there stands a man near a stove, stirring a spoon in a pot.

“Woah, who’s this hunk?” Angel says with a flirty tone.

Alastor huffs and turns to look towards the stairs of the room they appear to be in.

“Nuh uh, no way that’s you Al!” Angel laughs.

“HA I was right, look at you all alone! This is your happy memory?!” Lucifer lets out a hearty laugh.

Alastor grits his teeth together.

“Dad stop that!” Charlie tells him while Vaggie rubs her arm.

“We should just get going all ready, there really wasn’t anyone that you car-“

“Papa!” A yell is heard from above. “Papa, have you seen my English book?” A girl comes down the stairs wearing a painter’s smock.

The man, or Past Alastor, looks towards the girl, “No I don’t believe I have cher! Have you checked your room?”

“Yes, Papa I have, but I can’t seem to find it!” The girl throws her arms up in the air, “What am I going to do!?” she cries out.

“Now, now… how about you go and get ready for the day… maybe you’ll find it once you clean yourself up.”

“But I am cleaned up!”

Past Alastor raises his eyebrow, “Is that so? Then why are you still wearing your smock darling? Hmm?”

The girl looks down, “Oh darn! I forgot I had it on!” she runs back up the stairs.

“No running in the house!” Past Alastor yells out and he resumes his stirring.

Alastor continues to look towards the stairs.

“Uh…who was that? asked Angel.

Alastor holds his staff tighter.

Charlie pauses for a moment, “Was that your daughter Al?”

It’s silent for a minute, maybe two... all that can be heard is the movements from above as the girl rummages through her items.

“Yes…that’s my daughter.”

Lucifer looks to Alastor, giving a bit of shocked look, but all the deer man is doing is waiting for the girl to return down the stairs.

“I didn’t know you had a daughter.” Vaggie says out loud.

Alastor hums, “Well, there are plenty of things you don’t know about me, and I would rather keep it that way.”

The girl returns down the steps with a new outfit and makes her way to Past Alastor with a slight pep in her step.

“Papa did you hear!? Did you hear about the new museum they’re opening?!”

Past Alastor seems to think for a moment, “Hmm... can’t say that I have! Do tell me more!”

“Oh, Papa you must know something! You are the most influential radio host of all New Orleans, you must know something!”

The girl moves around Past Alastor, “I’ll tell you anyways! The museum is said to open on Friday! Oh, Papa I really want to go!”

“Ah, but you have school don’t you darling?”

“Ugh, yes Papa I do but I was wondering… can you get some tickets please!!” The girl smiles sweetly at him.

“Why should I do that?” Past Alastor grins.

“Well, maybe because I’ve been doing sooooo well in school and I am your favorite daughter!”

“You,” Past Alastor pats the girls head, “are my only daughter.”

“Exactly Papa! All the more reason to buy some tickets!”

“We’ll see…”

“Please, please, please, please think about it! I would really, really like to go!” The girl begs with her hands clasp together.

Past Alastor looks at the girl and rubs a hand on her cheek, “Darling you still have paint on your face.”

The girl touches her cheek, “Ah I thought I washed everything off!”

Past Alastor grabs a small towel, wets it from the sink and rubs the girl’s cheek. “What have I told you about painting before a school day?”

“To clean myself up….”

“And?”

“To wait after school…”

“How right you are darling! Now take a seat!”

“Ah! I’m sorry Papa I can’t eat breakfast with you today, I’m meeting Amelia and Stephen at the diner!

“Why don’t I remember you telling me this?” Past Alastor raises a brow.

“Oh, but I did! I know I did!”

Past Alastor pauses for a moment, “Perhaps… I did forget.”

“See, I knew I told you!”

“Yes, yes darling you were correct…. Who else will be there?”

“J-just them Pa!”

“Just Amelia and Stephen hmmm? I don’t quite believe that.”

The girl rocks herself on her feet for a minute, “Well, Damain will also be there, but Amelia and Stephen are going to be there as well!” The girl says the former quite fast.

“I don’t like that boy, you know that already...”

“He’s not bad Papa! He treats me kindly!”

Past Alastor places the spoon in the sink, “That boy broke my favorite shotgun.”

“But did he not replace it? And you love that new gun don’t you Pa!” The girl and Past Alastor look towards the mantle behind the crew of demons.

“They ain’t looking at us, right?” Whispered Angel.

“No, they can’t see us.” Said Charlie.

“I suppose I do.” Past Alastor grins smiles, “Very well, you may go with your friends and that boy to the diner… Will you be staying at Amelia’s house today?”

The girl grins, “Nope not today, Papa, I’ll be tutoring Mrs. Austin’s little boy, Richie, for English… that’s why I was looking for my book.” The girl walks past the demons towards the table by the living area. “And here it is, I knew it was somewhere downstairs!”

As the girl walks past the crew once more, Alastor sticks his hand out grabbing the ends of the girl’s hair as she walks away, towards her Papa, and lets the ends fall through his fingers.

“I should be back before nine, it shouldn’t be too late... he’s getting better at writing sentences!”

“That sounds good my dear, I should be back right at nine fifteen…it all depends on how the days go on!”

The girl grabs the rest of her books by the kitchen table and walks to the front door. “Alright Papa, I should be going now, I don’t want to keep Amelia waiting, last time I took too long, she ate all my eggs!” She says with a bright smile.

Past Alastor smiles at her, “I hope you have a good day my dear,” He walks to the girl placing his hands on her hair, sliding down her cheeks giving them a squish, “Ị̷̛̛̥̑̇̈̊ ̵̩̠̱͓̝̿̾͑̇̒͐l̵̢̨̛̦̰͙̟̗͑̃̍̿͌o̶̧̠̱̘̲͕͂̿̉͒̓̉͜͠v̸͔̤̯̌̍̓́͛ȩ̵̧̦̮͇̟́̿͠ͅ ̸̢̳͕͔̤͇̽̄̈̏̎̃͝ý̵̞̠͠o̵̼̦͆̆̈́̆̈́̃̕ȕ̶̢̺͊͝ ̶̨̨͚̟̻̥͐̄̽̀̉͝ “

“Wait! What did he say… it sounded all static like?” Angel asked.

“Ah! Pa! You’re going to mess up my hair!!” The girl quickly fixes her hair, she smiles once more at her Papa, “Ì̵͔̪̉̒ ̸̱̭̟̮̏͝l̴̯͚͌̈́o̸̢͚͔̥̪̅̃͗͊̇v̸̺̣̙̙̇ḛ̴̭̭͎̲̺̔ ̴̯̄́̐̌̇̆͝ỷ̸̯̩̞̦̲͕̼ỏ̶͇̃͆̊ṳ̴̓̌̈͝ ̵̫͈͌͒͋̔͘͠t̸͇̳̍͑̃͊̚ò̶̡̖̯̄̑̑ơ̴̒̂͐̆̒͜!!” She grabs the knob and heads out the door, “Bye Papa!!” As she walks away, Past Alastor calls out to her.

“Don’t stay out too late, ask for a ride home if you must!”

“Don’t worry Papa I’ll be safe!”

As the crew of demons stay behind Past Alastor, they see the girl walk into the light, a sort of blank area with nothing surrounding her.

Alastor moves past them.

“Hey! What are you doing!” yells Lucifer. “You can’t follow her! These are your memories not hers!!”

Alastor stands still watching his daughter walk farther and farther from him. He looks down at the ground for a moment, his right hand holding his staff harder than before.

If the crew could look into the Radio Demon’s eyes they would see a look of longing in them.

Charlie walks to Alastor, “Maybe… maybe you can see her again… she said she’s coming back early, right? Let’s see if your memory can go farther back where you get home to see her!”

Alastor stays silent as Charlie calls for her father. Lucifer notes the sadden look in Alastor’s eyes as he nudges him, and the black portal appears again.

“I wouldn’t bother...” Alastor says, the static in his voice dropped as the crew walks through the darkness.

“She dies today...”

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Past Alastor makes his way home, the sun had already set meaning his daughter should already be getting ready for bed. He has a smile on his face as he walks the path home, heading to the door holding the tickets in his hand. He had already bought the tickets before Y/n had he even told him about it. It was a surprise.

The crew is once again at the home of Alastor but this time they’re out in the front watching as Past Alastor unlocks the door.

“The porch light isn’t on.” Vaggie states.

Alastor stays quiet.

They hear Past Alastor calling out “Y/n”. They hear the running around of a man opening and closing doors.

Its nine thirty.

Dread fills Past Alastor. You should be home by now. He feels himself panic as he grabs the shotgun on top of the mantle and runs out the door.

Alastor is the first to follow his past self.

“Why is he running?” asked Angel Dust.

Charlie follows behind Alastor as Vaggie holds her hand.

Lucifer is awfully quiet.

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Past Alastor runs to a house, banging on the door.

“I’m at the door please stop hitting it!” yells a woman from inside.

The woman opens the door and is welcomed do a disheveled man, “Mr. Hartfelt? What on earth are you doing here?!”

“I’m sorry to bother so late Mrs. Austin… my daughter isn’t home yet… is she still here?” His breathe is uneven.

“No, she left a while ago…” Her face falls, “I’ll get my husband!” She cries out her husband’s name, but Alastor has already left to another house.

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“Who is it!!? Stop that banging!!” yells a man that opens the door. “Alastor? What are you doing here?!”

Past Alastor breathes heavily, “Is…is my daughter here?”

The man looks at him for a moment before he calls out, “Amelia!! Is Y/n up there with you?!!”

Amelia comes down the stairs, “No, Pa, she said she was tutoring Richie today... Why is something wrong?”

Past Alastor runs from their house and makes his way to the last house. Amelia’s father follows close behind him as he tells his daughter to stay with her mother while grabbing his own gun.

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“ALRIGHT! What is it!?” Another man of the same height as Alastor opens the door, he too holds a gun in his hand.

“I know my daughter has taken quite a liking to your boy… is she here?”

“DAMAIN! Did you bring that girl over?!” The man yells out.

Damain walks over to him, “Y/n? No! I didn’t bring her over she said she was tutoring today! Why? What’s wrong? Is she okay? Is she hurt?” Damain begins his assault of questions.

Past Alastor runs his hands through his hair, wiping the sweat off his forehead as he goes.

“Tell the others to get up! Get the dogs!” The man tells Damain as he runs off to do just that. “Listen Al, we’ll find her.” He tells Past Alastor sternly.

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Damain’s father had made a few calls and got more men to gather up and search.

The crew watches as a group of men search through the town, some in the bayou some near the bridges.

“Is... is she okay? Come on Al?! You know right? That she’s okay? This…This too stressful!” cries out Angel Dust.

Alastor stays silent, watching as his past self runs through the town.

Charlie stays silent she too has nothing to say.

“HERE!” yells out a man near an alleyway.

The mood shifts.

Charlie feels herself stiffen.

Vaggie holds a hand to her stomach.

Angel Dust takes a step backwards.

Lucifer stands still, facing the ground.

Alastor walks behind his past self, taking small steps.

In the dark damp alleyway is a garbage bin.

Theres a man kneeling by the side throwing up.

Past Alastor drops his gun and opens the bin’s hatch.

Her clothes are ripped up, there’s markings on her neck and chest area.

There’s no life behind her eyes.

Past Alastor pulls her out of the bin, cradling her bridal style. He feels his legs collapsing, yet he doesn’t.

He places her on the ground gently, takes off his coat and wraps it around her, closes her eyes and then pulls her to his chest walking back to their home.

The rest of the men that were gathered stay quiet, the dogs not even whimpering.

It’s a silent night.

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They watch as they place the cover of the girl’s coffin over her, but before they closed it completely, Past Alastor places a slip of paper near her hands. A ticket. A ticket for the museum she had wanted to visit.

Amelia cries into Stephen’s chest, Damien is in front with a blank stare, tears running down his face.

It was a short ceremony, Alastor didn’t want many people gathered, he had only wanted it to be himself but… your friends had wanted to be there.

Once you were lowered into the ground, with the dirt covering over the coffin, did Amelia leave a bracelet near your tombstone.

Stephen left a bouquet of sunflowers.

Damien left a small little box, what was in it? No one knew.

After they had left it was just Past Alastor.

It was strange, this man’s daughter had died. He carried her back to her room, covering her with her blankets, kneeled beside her bedside and still hadn’t cried.

“I don’t believe there’s nothing more to see here!” Alastor says. “We should get going!” He grins.

The crew stays silent.

Charlie is the first to speak, “Al… I’m sorry….  I thought that…”

Alastor cuts her off, “Nothing to be sorry for dear! Let’s head back to that lovely hotel of yours!” He laughs.

Lucifer nudges Alastor and a portal back to the hotel appears.

Alastor waits for everyone to walk through and then he turns around to see his past self, kneeling beside his daughter’s tombstone crying.

He watches for a moment then walks through the portal.

What’s in the past stays in the past, right?

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Today's my last day of classes!! Whoohooo!!! I'm writing for the requests so don't worry about that!

I had this idea for a while but never had the effort to write it! Tell me how this was!

wordcount: 2950

destinyisastar 2024

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mission Control 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Captain Hydra

Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You clean your leg again. The wound looks and feels little better than the night before. The pulsing ripple of pain is a constant reminder, not that you can get that man out of your mind. Or your life. 

You get ready for work numbly. You’re just going through the motions. You don’t know what else you can do. 

Colin never returned your call. None of them. The window is broken. You don’t care. The window doesn’t matter. Breaking glass is far from the worst thing this man can do. 

You get on the bus wearily. You sit at the front. Each stop, you look up, expecting the man. Some teens, then a man with a walker. You tense up each time the breaks squeal. He’s taunting you again, without even being there. 

When your stop comes up, you get off and stand at the stop a few minutes, searching. You don’t if it’s better to see him coming... 

You cross the lot and enter the mall. You stop at the coffee shop and get a latte. It won’t help but the warmth might help whittle away at your rigid muscles. You go to the tea shop. This time, it’s Jeremy at the counter. 

“Hey, sup?” He asks as he put out the sample pitcher of fruit punch iced tea. 

“Nothing,” you answer, eye dart to the mall corridor and back to the counter. 

“Oh? Security was asking about you this morning.” 

“Um... what?” You turn to him, “they were?” 

“Yeah, something about a report last night. Said they were following-up. Something happen?” 

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so concerned with anything. Not more than his phone. You shake your head. 

“Just... a suspicious customer,” you shrug. 

What’s the point in saying anything? You doubt his reaction will be any different than the police. Or that he could do anything more than offer empty platitudes. It’ll be okay. I’m sure the guy will get tired and leave you alone. 

No, he won’t. 

The look in his eye as he latched on and tore out your hair assured you of that. You can feel his grip, how strong he was, and you remember the way malice roiled off of him. He’s not just a man, he’s a monster. 

“Hm, no surprise there,” Jeremy snorts. “Halloween collections coming tomorrow. This place is going to get stupid.” 

“Of course,” you mutter without much thought. 

You stare over the counter into the bright mall. Waiting. Watching. He wouldn’t do anything now. Now with Jeremy right there. 

He would. He could. Last night on the bus, there were a dozen other passengers who didn’t give a shit about what he did. You put your hands on your head, gripping your skull as if it’s splitting in half. You show your teeth and whine. 

“Woah, everything okay?” Jeremy moves towards you and you wince away from him. 

“No! It’s not okay,” you spin and hurry into the back room. You grab your bag and your jacket and veer back out. 

“Hey, where are you going?” He shouts as you race around the counter. 

You don’t answer. You don’t have one. You just can’t stand still and wait for this man to show up again. 

You charge through the mall and to the exit opposite the one you usually come in. You stop just outside, right before the tarmac and heave. What are you doing? Where are you going? Home isn’t safe. There’s nowhere else to go. 

Your sister stopped talking to you when you called her boyfriend a deadbeat. Your parents took her side, like they always do, and the rest of your family doesn’t give a shit. Even if anyone did answer your call, they’d call you dramatic, or a liar. The latter is more likely. 

The police didn’t listen either. Your landlord won’t fix your window or replace the chain, he won’t even bother to check his voicemail. So, what now? 

You look around and your eyes snag on a dark figure. It’s him. Just beside one of the light poles. He stands unmoving, as motionless as the metal next to him. You trip backwards and twirl, bursting back into the mall. 

You sprint through the corridors, ignoring the patrons as they send you looks, swerving and weaving around them. You turn and come out on the east side of the mall. You slow to catch your breath halfway across the lot. 

What do you do? That stupid question has no goddamn answer. What are you doing? That one’s just as pointless. 

You get to the patch of grass and climb up onto the sidewalk. You turn south and walk without seeing. Cars blow by on the street as you grip the straps of your knapsack. You just walk. No where in particular. 

You cross and continue down the next block, and the one after that, and the one after that. When you’re dizzy and tired, you find a bench and sit. You bend forward and cradle your head. Your lungs burn, your legs too. Your head pounds from fatigue. 

You just sit there. When you sense gentle brush next to you, weigh creaking on the slats of the bench, you don’t look. You already know. It doesn’t matter how he found you. The inevitability was a given. 

Silent, still, you languish.  

You flinch only as he wraps his hand around your wrist and forces your hand away from your head. You sit up and he stands. He tugs you with him. You sway on your feet and he strides forward. You stumble along with him. Not a word, not a glance in your direction. 

He just marches on and you have no choice but to go with him. 

[sturnioloshacker]

virgin no more - a vinnie hacker smut

a/n: requested by anon; lowercase intended

cw: softdom!vinnie, sub!reader, praise kink, pussy eating, vanilla sex, soft sex, creampie, smut. this is an nsfw short, everything written is fictional. interact or don't, i'm not your mother

summary: you lose your virginity to your best friend vinnie

i’ve been thinking about it for so long and i feel that this time, it’s right. for years now, i’ve been a virgin. sure, i’ve had my fair share of kisses and makeout sessions in my past relationships, but i’ve never had sex with my past partners. one, i wasn’t ready and two, i’m terrified of losing it to someone i don’t trust with my heart and soul. but lately, i’ve been having thoughts about losing it to my best friend vinnie. vinnie and i have been best friends since his high school days in seattle. we both moved to la when he blew up on tiktok and now we’re both living in his new recently brought apartment.

it’s not my fault though! have you seen the man?! from his chiseled jawline to his perfectly sculpted god-like body that has been carved by the angels in heaven, he’s just simply irresistible. not only that, his personality is truly one of a kind. the sweetest, most caring human being on planet earth who wears his heart on his sleeve. the only problem is, he’s my best friend and i’m scared that he may not feel the same way that i feel about him. what if I ruin my friendship with him? that would be super awkward and embarrassing. then again, he hasn’t ruined our friendship every time he brings a girl home and fucks her senseless that she basically stumbles out of the house the next morning. 

after taking the time to build up some courage, i decide it’s time.

“hey, vin. can i ask you something?”

“of course, what’s up?”

“this may be super awkward and embarrassing and you don’t have to answer, but what’s it like not being a virgin?”

“woah, um. it’s great, i guess. why you asking?”

“i guess what i’m trying to say is that i’m ready to lose my virginity.”

“that’s great, go for it!”

“i want to lose it to you.”

the silence in the room is so thick, you wouldn’t be able to cut it with a knife. vinnie and i sit opposite each other, our minds racing over what just transpired. great, i just ruined the most amazing friendship i could ever ask for. 

“you want me to take your virginity?”

“yes. i trust you with my whole life. and i love you so much.”

“i love you so much. can i please kiss you?”

“please.”

he slowly leans in to capture my lips in one of the most passionate kisses i’ve ever had. the kiss is soft yet so hot. i feel him tug at the bottom of my shirt, wanting to take it off. i reach down to take it off my body, his eyes zoned in on my chest. his kisses move to my chest, kissing the tops of my tits before making his way down my cleavage. i unclasp my bra and remove it, letting it drop to the floor. 

“they’re so pretty, oh my god. can i please touch?”

“of course, vin. they’re all yours.” i smile at him.

vinnie groans before using his big, strong hands to grope at my tits. squeezing, massaging, licking, sucking and biting, all of these combined had me weak in the knees. he’s making me feel so good right now, and we haven’t even had sex! i drop to my knees in front of him, the feeling of being so aroused is making me dizzy. my eyes are level with vinnie’s growing bulge. he looks big, is he going to fit? oh my lord, he’s not going to fit. i start pulling down his sweats, wanting to desperately see what he’s hiding. i release him from the confines of his underwear. jesus christ, he’s not fitting. there’s no way that all of THAT is going to fit inside. 

“like what you see, princess?” he smirks.

“yeah i do. it’s so… big.”

“as much as i want your mouth around it, tonight’s about you.”

he grabs me by the back of my thigh, scooping me up into his arms. he gently throws me onto our bed before crawling up to me and placing a sweet kiss on my lips. he moves down my body, stopping at my panties. he looks up at me, a cute yet seductive smile plastered on his face.

“can i take these off, sweetheart? wanna see what i’m working with.”

“yes.” i breathe out, my heart racing and head spinning

he slowly removes my panties, gasping at the sight in front of him. he tosses my panties to the side before licking a stripe up my pussy with his tongue, earning a moan from me. i feel his tongue suck and lick at my clit, the feeling of pleasure rushing through my veins. 

“you okay, sweetheart?”

“yes, please keep going. it feels unreal.”

vinnie continues his actions, only this time, he speeds them up. my little bundle of nerves that have never been touched by a man before are so alive and so sensitive, i can barely form any words now. i suddenly feel a tightness in my stomach. is this what i think it is?

“vinnie, i-“

“you close, baby?”

“i don’t know. my stomach hurts though.”

“you’re close to having an orgasm. want me to keep going?”

“yes! please don’t stop! i need to know what it feels like.”

vinnie sucks and licks my clit a little more before i feel a strange rush through my body. my legs shake at the intense pleasure, my stomach contorts and my pussy clenches at fresh air. my breathing is rapid but is soon calm as he slowly stops his actions.

“you did such a good job, baby. i’m so proud of you. you ready for my cock now?”

“i think so.”

“if it hurts, we’ll stop okay? i promise to go slow and make you feel good.”

“okay.”

vinnie lubes his cock up and jerks it for a bit before aligning it at my entrance. he slowly pushes in, the pain almost unbearable. 

“want me to stop?”

“no, i’m okay. you can keep going.”

he pushes himself all the way in, bottoming out when he’s fully inside. we both moan at the feeling. i slightly adjust to make sure it fits and won’t destroy me. i nod my head, signalling to vinnie to move. he starts to slowly rock in and out of my pussy. the pain instantly becomes pleasure again as he fucks my walls. i wrap my legs around his waist, pushing him closer to me. he leans over, hovering over my figure before placing a kiss to my forehead.

“oh vin, you feel so good. i love you.”

“i love you more, sweetheart. god, i’m so glad you chose to lose your vigirnity to me.”

our lips connect in a passionate kiss. vinnie wraps his arms around my back, holding me close so that our chests are touching. he continues rocking into me and making me feel oh so good. i feel that strange rush coming back again, this time it’s stronger and right on the edge.

“oh vin, i’m close.”

“yeah? cum for me, pretty girl, cum on my cock for me.”

vinnie thrusts one last time and i feel all the same sensations from when he ate me out. 

“oh fuck, pretty girl. you did so good, i’m gonna cum now okay?”

“please cum inside me, vincent. i need you so bad.”

vinnie moans at my words and it doesn’t take him long before he’s shooting ropes up and around my walls. i moan and whimper at the warmth inside me, watching it as it slowly leaks out. he pulls out and flops on the other side of the bed. 

“that was amazing. you’re seriously the best.”

“glad you enjoyed, princess. now let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?”

he kisses my lips before scooping me up into his arms as we go to clean up our mess. i can now say that i’m a virgin no more and that my virginity has been taken by the one and only vinnie hacker.

[squatch-and-stretch]

Latrotoxin

Stanley Pines & Stanford Pines | 7,586 words | Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic

“He checks that Ford is still focused on Fiddleford— he is, completely and utterly— before he carefully rolls up one sleeve of his jacket to check the bite. There’s two messy holes in his arm, bleeding sluggishly. The skin around the wounds is flushed red.

Stan may be the idiot of the group, but even he knows this is bad news. Spiders are usually poisonous, right? Does that apply to alien spiders that are huge? Probably.

The small part of his brain that still cares about logic and being alive says he should tell the Fords immediately, before things get worse. The louder, larger part of his brain stomps it down and kicks its corpse for good measure.”

Warning for injury, poisoning, arachnophobia.

Fic under the cut.

It’s raining on Planet Boring. They’ve seen a lot of things in their short time wandering the multiverse together, but this planet’s pretty high up there in terms of ‘yeah, this is basically just Earth’. Ford is marveling at the size of the plants, but it all just looks like Central America to Stan. Besides, it’s raining.

“There’s a cave up ahead,” Fiddleford says, a hand cupped over his goggles to keep the rain off of them. “Le’s get outta this rain.”

“Sounds good,” Stan says, adjusting his hood to cover his face. It was going to take forever for the damn thing to dry.

Fiddleford leads the way, carefully weaving up the side of the hill until he can scramble up into the cave. Stan follows, once he makes sure Ford is doing the same.

“Well,” Fiddleford says, holding out his prosthetic to push the darkness back a bit further. “Reckon it’ll keep us dry, at least.”

Stan squints as he steps inside. Unlike the hill it’s carved into, the ground inside seems pretty flat. He wanders a bit further in, eyes catching against some white tangle woven across one of the walls.

“Hey, is that—“ Stan cuts himself off as his foot slips, only a small part of it landing on solid ground while the rest drops out from under him.

He stumbles slightly, ankle slamming painfully against rock as his foot lodges itself in the crevice. He reaches out to steady himself against the wall, but pulls away in disgust as soon as he feels it.

“Spider webs,” Fiddleford provides helpfully.

“Won’t you ever watch where you’re going?” Ford huffs, looking at the tangle of webs disdainfully.

“Oh yeah, Poindexter? Wanna tell Fidds here how many times I had to pull you out of traffic because you had your big ugly nose in a book?”

“We have the same nose! And besides—“

“He doesn’t need to tell me, I had to do the same thing for him in college,” Fiddleford chimes in with a smirk. Ford’s face flushes with indignation as Stanley barks out a laugh.

“It’s different when we’re in a potentially dangerous dimension that we know next to nothing about!” Ford huffs.

“Yeah yeah, I’m an idiot, just get me out of this shit,” Stan grumbles, tugging ineffectively at his trapped leg. It’s flexible, but at this point that really just means that it won’t break easy.

“I gotcha,” Fiddleford says, raising his prosthetic. Stan leans away.

“Woah, hey, I dunno if that’s really necessary!” Stan yelps, holding his hands up placatingly.

“The claws, Stanley,” Fiddleford reassures, but there’s a worrying glint of gleeful amusement in his eyes. “I ain’t gonna blast your foot off.”

“Yeah, obviously not,” Stan scoffs, folding his arms. He knew that.

“Hurry, won’t you? The cave opens up further in,” Ford calls, voice echoing. He's far enough away that Stan can barely see the shape of him in the dim light of the cave.

“Don’t you go wandering off!” Fiddleford snaps, and oh yeah, he really does have a kid, because that there’s a dad voice.

“I won’t go far!”

“Darn right you won’t, because you’re gonna turn right around and come back over here!”

Ford sighs, but he turns to face them and doesn’t go any further.

Fiddleford echoes the sigh with a shake of the head that looks pretty fond from where Stan is standing. With one foot in a crack full of spider webs. He directs his attention back to Stan and kneels in front of him.

“Woah, take me out to dinner first,” Stan jokes, hooking a thumb into his belt loop.

“Shut your mouth, Lee,” Fiddleford laughs, steadying his flesh hand against the floor.

Shit, he hasn’t been Lee in years. If Ford hadn’t all but called dibs already, Stan’d be all over that man like a seagull on the fries of an unsuspecting tourist. He laughed at his joke and everything!

What a guy. A guy currently clawing at the spider webs around his leg, even. His palm is a little too big to fit in the crack Stan had jammed his foot into, but he sure is trying his best. Stan sighs and resigns himself to standing there for a bit. For lack of anything better to do, he idly looks around the cave. For the most part, he can see the rough roof of it, but there’s some sections lost in shadow. There’s one pretty much right above them, in fact, the surrounding stone pulling upwards into a deep crevice.

It almost looks like something’s moving up there in the dark, but even Stan knows how much the human eye loves seeing things that aren’t there when you’re staring into pitch blackness.

It really does seem like something’s moving, though.

Stan squints.

“Hey, Fidds, give it a rest for a sec, would ya?” Stan says, wiggling his foot to get his attention. “Pro’lly just my eyes playing tricks on me, but is there something up there?”

Fiddleford hums, standing up. He lifts his arm above his head, and the dim light of his prosthetic pushes the darkness back just enough for Stan to make out what looks like eight dark eyes staring at them from the shadows.

“Huh,” Fiddleford says, voice pitching up slightly. “Yup, reckon you’re right.”

Just as he says that, the thing in the darkness skitters closer. With its head fully lit as Fiddleford rears around to face it, Stan knows it’s a spider, if the eight eyes weren’t enough to clue him in. It’s an ugly one too, eight eyes bulging grotesquely from a dark, shiny head. Two giant fangs protrude from the bottom of its face, with two little legs shifting as it stares at them. Little is a relative description, of course, because they’re about the length of his forearm which is far too large for any part of a spider to be, if you ask Stan.

“What are you waiting for, blast that thing!” Stan demands, and suddenly the spider lunges.

Fiddleford yelps, throwing out his prosthetic to catch it before those fangs can hit something more delicate. They clack against the metal, shifting as they try to dig into something with no give. The sudden weight of the spider knocks Fiddleford off his feet, sending him stumbling into Stan, who’s only there to catch him because his foot’s stuck. Luckily, their combined weight is enough to wrench his foot free, which, unluckily, means all three of them hit the floor.

Fiddleford rolls off of Stan, tugging the spider along with him. Considering the things got eight legs beneath it, the movement does nothing to knock it off balance. Its weird little legs prod at Fiddleford’s chest. Stan rolls to his feet, every muscle tensed.

The spider pulls away, finally getting wise to the fact that it can’t bite through metal. With his prosthetic now free, Fiddleford pulls back just far enough to claw it across the face, catching at least three of its gross eyes. It rears back, legs scrambling to get the threat away from itself, and oh shit, have spiders always had a nasty pair of little claws on the end of each leg?

Stan glances towards the entrance of the cave.

There’s not a lot of force behind the movement, not when it’s just trying to get away, but its claws scramble against the flimsy fabric of Fiddleford’s shirt and tear it with ease. Judging by Fiddleford’s pained yelp, they make it through more than that.

He’s spent a long-ass time looking out for nobody but himself, but there was a time before that when his brother was his first priority. Nothing much has changed, then. Ford would kill him if he let his boy get killed, and besides, Stan kinda likes the guy himself.

Leaving his typical taunting out just this once— it would be lost on a spider anyway— Stan threads his fingers through his brass knuckles and lunges. He doesn’t know what his good ol’ fists will do against a spider as big as he is, but the answer seems to be ‘enough’.

The spider lets out a wet noise as his fist cracks through its exoskeleton. He rears back on instinct, because gross, and that gives the beast enough time to turn itself towards him. Its five remaining eyes don’t have a shred of humanity to them, but Stan still gets the impression of a hateful glare. He pulls back for another blow, straight between those ugly eyes, but the spider lunges before he can. He steps to the side, but a person-sized spider is a lot wider than a person-sized person, and two of the legs catch him, bringing him towards that awful mouth. Those weird little mouth legs grab at his arm, and he struggles against its grip. He leans far enough away that its mouth lands far from his throat, but that’s the best of it. It still lands, fangs sinking into his arm.

Stan grunts against the sharp stab of pain, but the spider made a big mistake— it grabbed his non-dominant arm. He can’t throw his whole body into it like he should, but he can still punch this thing in the head, over and over and over until his arm is covered in bug blood and its legs stop twitching around him.

“Stanley! Fiddleford!” Ford shouts, suddenly deciding to show back up now that the action is over. “Fiddleford! What happened?”

“Big spider,” Fiddleford grunts, sitting up. He’s got a hand pressed over the worst of the wounds, and now that Stan’s looking, there sure is a lot of blood staining his shirt.

“I see that!” Ford says tightly, sparing the spider a glance. His eyes briefly spark with that bright-eyed nerd look, but it’s pretty quickly drowned out by concern. “Come on, there's a place deeper in where we can rest.”

“Are we sure this is the only spider here?” Stan asks, pulling his arm free of the fangs. It is not a graceful dismount, tearing at the skin around the punctures.

“Well, the vast majority of spider species are incredibly asocial, many even resorting to cannibalism if other food sources are unavailable,” Ford says in that enthusiastic lecturer tone that Stan can’t help but roll his eyes at. “Judging by the size and web-building habits of this individual, I have no reason to believe it’s an exception.”

“Alright, pretty sure I caught most of that,” Stan says. “Lead the way, Poindexter.”

“I shall,” Ford agrees, helping Fiddleford to his feet. Fiddleford hisses against the movement, pressing his hand more firmly to the worst of his wounds as Ford swings his prosthetic over his shoulder. He slumps a bit beneath its weight. “I forgot how heavy this thing is. You really wear this every day?”

“Y’know I do,” Fiddleford says. His accent means he’s always shoving words together, but the slur is coming in hard and fast. He’s losing a lot of blood. How much space is between the surface of someone’s skin and the inside of their organs, and how long were those claws again?

Stan isn’t a doctor, and even though the Fords have like, a hundred doctorates between them, he’s pretty sure none of them are medical. Still, it’s not like Stan of all people will be any help.

Ford half-carries Fiddleford into the next room of the cave, even if it’s a bit of a squeeze to get through the narrow passageway. While it’s further from the entrance, there’s an opening in the roof letting the rain trickle down into a shallow pool. That natural skylight is the only opening other than the one they just came through, and the room is small enough that Stan can see all of it, even in the dim light filtering through the clouds and into the cave. It’s a little slice of paradise, other than the giant dead spider a few feet away and the guy bleeding out all over his brother.

Stan’s been in worse places.

Ford lowers Fiddleford to the ground as soon as they enter the room. Ford sits down with him, all but cradling that scrawny little mechanic in his lap.

“Y’kay, Lee?” Fiddleford mumbles, rolling his head towards Stan.

“Are you seriously asking that right now?” Ford sighs, exasperated, before Stan can answer. He was going to say just about the same thing, but it confirms that that’s definitely what he should do.

“You’re the one who got gored by a giant spider, Fidds,” Stan says, waving his uninjured hand dismissively. “You can worry about other people when your blood’s back where it’s supposed to be.”

“Precisely. Now where do you keep those gauze…” Ford’s voice fades out as Stan wanders off. There isn’t anywhere to go, really, so Stan washes off the worst of the bug blood in the pond, then meanders his way over to sit against the opposite wall. There’s a clear view of both the Fords and the entrance.

He checks that Ford is still focused on Fiddleford— he is, completely and utterly— before he carefully rolls up one sleeve of his jacket to check the bite. There’s two messy holes in his arm, still bleeding sluggishly. The skin around the wounds is flushed red.

Stan may be the idiot of the group, but even he knows this is bad news. Spiders are usually poisonous, right? Does that apply to alien spiders that are huge? Probably.

The small part of his brain that still cares about logic and being alive says he should tell the Fords immediately, before things get worse. The louder, larger part of his brain stomps it down and kicks its corpse for good measure.

Fiddleford looks like he’s got more blood outside of his body than in it. He is clearly the first priority for Ford, and with good reason, even if a small, childish part of Stan rankles at the idea. Besides, spider venom probably wasn’t the worst thing Stan’s had injected into his body, and he’s survived everything else.

It hurts, but not that badly. There’s a faint ache spreading up his arm, but it’s probably just from the way that damn thing had grabbed it. He’s fine.

He’ll sneak over and grab one of those awful bottles of whatever Fiddleford uses to keep wounds clean when Ford’s done fretting over all their medical shit. He can take care of it himself. With just a few exceptions, Stan’s been the only one taking care of Stan for the past ten years.

He watches Ford carefully remove Fiddleford’s prosthetic and cleans his wounds, holding him steady even as Fiddleford writhes against the pain of that awful antiseptic against torn flesh. Once Ford has a cap on the bottle and is blotting away the excess blood and liquid, Fiddleford slumps against him. Ford carefully maneuvers around him to bandage the wound properly, mumbling gently all the while. Stan can’t make out the words, but he can guess what he’s saying.

Ford had never been one for reassurances. When he used to patch Stan up all those years ago, he’d run through everything he was doing and why. If he ran out of things to say on that topic, he’d just start talking about whatever else was on his mind. It gave Stan something to focus on other than the pain, so he’d always appreciated that. He can’t tell if Fiddleford feels the same way, can’t read his expression or body language beyond ‘pained’ at this distance.

Once he’s taken care of, Ford leans against the opposite wall of the cave with a visible sigh. Fiddleford carefully maneuvers himself to curl into Ford’s lap, burying his face in his stomach and fisting his hand into the back of his shirt. Ford takes off his coat, and lays it over him. The cave is honestly pretty hot if you ask Stan, but the gesture is nice.

“I’ll take first watch,” Ford calls, loud enough to echo through the cave. Fiddleford flinches at the loud noise, and Stan does the same, quickly adjusting his leg to make sure his arm is hidden from view.

His attempt doesn’t matter, because Ford isn’t even looking. He runs a hand through Fiddleford’s hair as he burrows his face deeper into Ford’s stomach.

Stan scoffs quietly. He’s a grown man. Stan hasn’t looked for comfort in another person since he was like, ten.

It does look kind of nice, though. He hasn’t trusted anyone to look after him the way Ford is looking after Fiddleford in over a decade; even Ford got too busy to tend to his every bruise and scrape eventually, and Stan learned to stop bothering him. He learned to set his own nose at fifteen and never looked back.

Eventually, Ford will get tired and he’ll wake up Stan to get him to take watch. Once that happens, Stan will grab the bottle of antiseptic and the roll of bandages and patch himself up. Until then, Stanley rolls his sleeve back down, and tries to make himself comfortable.

•••

Stan wakes up to something jostling his shoulder. That never means anything good. Without even thinking, he scrambles away from the touch, kicking against the ground. His legs barely react, and a dull ache rages through his entire body at the movement.

Oh, he’s in a real bad way. Even more reason to get the fuck away. His eyelids feel thick as he forces them open. As expected, someone is looming over him.

His arm twitches towards his pocket, but that’s as far as he gets. His whole body hurts, but his arm’s definitely the worst of it, maybe followed by his chest. It’s hard to breathe. He has no idea how much of that is panic and how much of it is whatever happened to him.

Either way, he’s not about to let himself die here. He doesn’t even know where ‘here’ is. The ground is hard beneath him and the wall is hard behind him and it’s hot. He’s sweating like hell, but what else is new.

“Ge’way,” Stan slurs, raising his other, slightly less painful arm to defend himself.

“Stanley!” a voice scolds, and the hand releases him. Whoever’s looming over him even takes a step back. “What is the matter with you?”

The voice sounds familiar, but that barely even registers. This person called him by his actual name.

“Who the fuck’re you?” Stan says, words coming a bit easier now.

“It’s me, Stanford! Seriously, what is wrong with you?”

Oh, he got into some real bad stuff. As Stan continues to blink blearily at the person, their features resolve into something very similar to his own.

This isn’t the first time his addled mind has conjured up a vision of his twin, but it’s a punch in the gut every time. To make matters worse, there’s someone actually here, and his stupid brain is trying to convince him it’s Ford. It’s not Ford. It’s never been Ford and it never will be. The last thing he could remember is…

Shit.

“… Ford?”

He blinks a few more times. The face glaring down at him remains that of his twin brother.

“It’s morning,” Ford says. “Well, it’s midday, actually, but either way, the rain has stopped and we should be looking for a way out of here.”

“Shoul’ Fidds be movin’ around so soon?” Stan says. Personally, Stan doesn’t feel great about moving around so soon, but he’s not about to say anything for his own sake.

“I shoul’ be fine,” Fiddleford chimes in. “Not lookin’ forward to gettin’ to know the rest of the local wildlife here.”

“Yeah… yeah, le’s get outta here,” Stan agrees. He steadies himself with his uninjured hand and tries to use it to push himself up. He can’t get his legs underneath himself. That's no good.

“Come on, Stanley,” Ford says impatiently.

“I’m working on it,” Stan snaps, trying to sound irritated instead of panicked. “I’m not as young as I used to be, ya know.”

“We’re 27, that’s hardly an applicable excuse,” Ford scoffs.

“Myeh myeh myeh,” Stan mumbles mockingly.

“Y’alright, Stanley?” Fiddleford asks, supporting himself against Ford as he approaches.

“Tch, yeah, of course,” Stan grumbles, and tries again.

His entire body protests, but he manages to stand. His leg spasms beneath him, and he stumbles. He reaches out to steady himself, but his arm doesn’t react as quickly as he hopes, ends up just smacking his injured forearm against the cave wall. Sharp, sudden pain shoots through him, so intense that he feels his stomach lurch. He grits his teeth against the surge of nausea, cupping his other hand over his mouth and telling himself he is not going to vomit until it sticks.

“Stanley!” Fiddleford frets, leaving Ford’s side to reach for Stan. Stan smacks his hand away with a bleary glare. His eyelids still feel weird.

“I’m fine. Just a head rush, you know how it is,” Stan says. “Let’s get out of here.”

“I…” Fiddleford glances between Stan and Ford. Without anyone to hold on to, his hand flutters down to his abdomen, gently cupping it over his bandaged wound. “Y’know, I said I’d be alright, but I’m already feelin’ a little…”

Ford looks to him with alarm. Fiddleford meets his eyes, and there’s something calculating in his expression. He’s aiming for a very specific reaction, and not even trying to hide his search. If Stan could think straight, he’d probably be able to catch onto his game, easy.

“Are you okay? Do you— should I check your stitches? Nothing tore, right?” Ford falls for it without a second thought.

“No, no, I think I just need another day of rest,” Fiddleford says, and there’s a caution to his expression that’s only half-faked. “Is that okay?”

“Of course,” Ford says softly. “I may not have been the most… considerate of your physical and mental limitations in the past, but I truly am trying my best to rectify such transgressions. If you want to rest, we shall rest.”

So that’s his game. Why, though? Is he just testing Ford, seeing how far he can push him until he stops playing nice? He might not be fully lying, it probably is too soon for him to be moving, but he was specifically gunning for this result for reasons beyond his own injury. He had a point, earlier, when he was talking about dangerous wildlife or whatever, so what changed?

He's missing something that’s staring him right in the face, he’s sure of it.

“Thank you, Stanford,” Fiddleford sighs. “Sorry to get you up for nothin’ Stanley.”

Stan grunts, and holds his arm as still as possible to avoid further irritation. Just to spite him, his arm twitches against his will. Pain pulses through him with each rapid beat of his heart. He's not actively panicking anymore, but his pulse is still racing. That's no good.

He tightens his grip on his upper arm. He could swear he feels the rush of toxic blood from the wound to his heart beneath his palm. Spiders have venom, and Stan’s been injected with it.

Spiders aren’t that dangerous, Ford told him that again and again. He was always sticking up for the weird little animals that everyone hates. Only two spiders in the US have venom that could kill a person. Bites are few and far between. Lethal ones being even fewer and farther between. None of that really applies to giant fuck-off big spider in an alternate dimension though. Do bigger spiders have stronger venom? Does that make sense? A bigger spider definitely has more venom, those fangs were as big as Stan’s hand.

How fucked is Stan, on a scale from one to ten? Being locked in a car trunk in the deserts of Nevada during a heatwave was probably a nine, so maybe he’d rank this at a seven. The uncertainty could probably boost it up to an eight, though.

When he ended up in that trunk, he’d already been in plenty of bad situations with a head injury and his hands tied behind his back. He’d even had heat stroke before, knew the symptoms and survived them once before. On some level, he knew what to do and what to expect, and he survived.

Right now, he didn’t know what to do or what to expect. He doesn’t know if he’ll survive.

Maybe it’s a nine.

“Lee?” Fiddleford asks gently. Despite his tone, Stan flinches away, sinking against the wall. He didn’t mean to do that. His legs feel so weak. It hurts. Everything hurts and it’s hard to breathe.

“Stanley, are you alright?” Ford asks, and it’s weird to have his concern again. It’s been over a decade. It was weird to see him fret over Fiddleford, but this is definitely weirder.

“Feel… not so good,” Stan admits. He doesn’t mean to, but most of his body isn’t listening to him, so why should his big dumb mouth?

“Oh, Stanley…” Fiddleford whispers. “What happened?”

“Bit. Nasty lil’… fucker… stupid fangs…”

“Chelicerae,” Ford corrects, seemingly without thinking. He kneels down in front of Stan, holding out a hand. Part of Stan wants to flinch away, but he counts the fingers and can’t bring himself to.

One two three four five, the thumb makes six. The thumb isn’t technically a finger. Is that true? Ford would know. He’s always been called a six-fingered freak, so it doesn’t really matter. One two three four five six.

“Where’d it get you, Lee?”

Lee. Stan wishes Ford still called him Lee. How long has it been?

Fiddleford is nice, but he’s not his brother. He missed his brother so much. He still misses him.

“Stanley, where did it get you?” Ford says, a bit more harshly. No, not harsh, just firm. Stan’s heart stutters anyway. He doesn’t want Ford to be mad at him anymore.

Ford is still holding out his hand. Oh, Stanley gets it now. Even though he really wants to lean forward and press his forehead to Ford’s hand, he extends his arm instead. It’s shaking.

“‘S hot in here,” he says.

“It’s really not, but we should get you outta that jacket anyhow,” Fiddleford says, reaching for Stan.

Fiddleford is nice, but he flinches away anyway, curling closer to Ford. Fiddleford doesn’t push the issue. He takes his hand back, holds it awkwardly in front of his chest. Ford used to do that too, before he got into the habit of hiding his hands. Made him look like a t-rex.

“D’you still like dinosaurs?” Stan tries to say. He’s pretty sure most of the noises come out, but Ford doesn’t respond to him either way. He just carefully starts rolling up Stan’s sleeve.

He didn’t want Ford to see his arm. He doesn’t exactly remember why, he’s having a hard time thinking that far back, but it seems important. He tries to pull away. He’s always been stronger than Ford, but it doesn’t work.

Is it Ford holding his arm?

One two three four five six. In all his time traveling, he’s never met someone like Ford.

It’s definitely Ford. The brush of cloth hurts and he doesn’t want Ford to see, but it’s Ford. He’s really good at secrets, but not when it comes to his brother.

“Shit,” Ford says sharply, hand tightening around his wrist. “Sweet Moses, Stanley, what were you thinking!?”

Oh, right, that’s why Stan didn’t want him to see. He’s mad.

“Tha’s your job…” Stan says, trying very hard to get the words out.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Ford continues.

He probably heard him, he just doesn’t care.

He misses when his brother cared about him. He misses his brother.

“Stanley!” he scolds, and Stan swallows back a pathetic noise. He sounds like Pa when he talks like that.

One two three four five six. The grip on his wrist is firm, steadying the shaking, but the fingers tracing the reddened skin around the bite are gentle.

Pa wasn’t always cruel, but he was never ever gentle.

Ma was. Her hands were bony and shook more often than not, but they were gentle.

He misses Ma too. He’ll probably never see her again. She’s getting old. She’ll die and only one son will attend her funeral.

Shermie keeps in touch with her. Stan calls when he can but he loses track of time so easily. Ford does too. How often does he call? Does he answer when she does? Despite everything, he always answered Stan’s calls, even though he never said anything. Because he never said anything, actually. How quickly would he have hung up if he knew who was on the other end?

Ford is talking. He sounds frantic. He can’t decide whether the fear is better or worse than the anger.

“I’m ‘kay,” Stan tries, flailing his injured hand in an attempt to pat Ford’s arm soothingly. His fingers brush against him, but that’s about it.

“No, you’re not,” Ford growls, returning his attention to Stan. It was off him, for a second, he was talking to… “that’s the problem, Stanley, how could you hide this from us?”

“I ain’t happy about it either, but now’s not the time for a lecture,” Fiddleford says, right, yeah, Fiddleford.

“What is it time for?” Ford says, more desperate than combative.

“It’s time to see what all’s goin’ on. If we get an idea as to the toxin, we can figure out how best to deal with it,” Fiddleford says, sitting down beside Ford. “Hey, Stanley, can you answer a few questions for me?”

Stan looks to Ford for guidance. He seems confused, but he nods.

“Please,” Ford requests.

“Mhm,” Stan says, nodding once.

“Alright, thank you,” Fiddleford says, reaching over to Ford and shoving a hand into his coat. He fishes out one of those journals he’s always carrying around, and surprisingly, Ford lets him. He flips to an empty page, clicks the pen a few times, and nods to himself.

“Can you describe your symptoms, or should I give you some yes or no questions?”

Stan shrugs one shoulder.

“I’s hot, and my stomach kinda hurts,” Stan says haltingly. “Everything kinda hurts, actually, feels stiff, an’ it’s a lil hard t’ breathe, an’ my eyes feel weird.”

Fiddleford scribbles this all down quickly. He doubts his notes will be legible to anyone other than himself later. He looks more and more troubled the more he writes, and the expression is mirrored by Ford.

“‘s not so bad,” Stan tries, and the grip on his wrist tightens. Fiddleford huffs unhappily, looking up at Stan.

“Lemme see those peepers,” Fiddleford says, not even acknowledging Stan’s attempt at reassurance.

He leans in close, and Stan leans away. Fiddleford isn’t particularly scary, but he’s got the capacity to be. Stan feels pretty frail right now.

If he’s feeling pretty frail, the last thing he should do is show it. He should push this guy back twice as hard as he’s pushed him.

His free fist curls weakly against the ground. That's about as far as it gets. A painful spasm jolts up his arm.

“Swollen,” Fiddleford says, and he leans away. “How’s his pulse?”

“Elevated,” Ford admits. He sounds scared.

“‘s not that bad,” Stan tries again.

“Stop saying that!” Ford snaps, loud and harsh.

Stan flinches, squeezing his eyes shut.

Fuck. They got into plenty of arguments as kids, but the last time Ford used that tone with him—

“Quit your barking, boy!” Fiddleford scolds, smacking Ford upside the head.

There's no real force to it, more of a pat than a smack. Stan jolts anyway, trying to pull Ford closer. His arm just twitches in his grip.

“Believe me when I say I ain’ happy ‘bout this either, not ‘bout Stanley getting hurt in the firs’ place, not ‘bout him hidin’ it, and not ‘bout his constant downplayin’ o’ somethin’ so serious,” Fiddleford says, accent so thick and words so fast Stan barely catches any of them. “But he’s in a real bad way right now, and you yellin’ at him ain’ helping!”

“I’m not yelling!” Ford yells.

Fiddleford just scoffs and turns away.

“Sounds ta me like a neurotoxin,” Fiddleford says, carefully calm now that his attention is on Stanley.

“Neuro, like, brain?”

That sounds bad. That sounds real bad.

“Neuro like neural tissue, the nervous system at large,” Fiddleford says, and then, a bit more quickly, like he doesn’t want Stan to hear it, “not just the brain, but certainly including it, yes.”

Well.

Shit.

That’s a new form of brain damage for him to blame his stupidity on. Assuming he even makes it out of this alive.

“If it makes ya feel better, I’ve gotten quite a hefty dose of neurotoxin m’self, and the only lastin’ damage was psychological!” Fiddleford says with a shaky grin.

Ford’s grip tightens around Stan’s wrist.

“Really?” Stan asks. He’s not sure if he’s curious or seeking reassurance. Probably a little bit of both.

“Spent a solid day barfin’ my guts out, so you’re doin’ better than me.”

“… that does kinda make me feel better, actually.”

“Happy t’ help,” Fiddleford says, faintly amused. “I’m gonna go get my bag. I know it’ll hurt, but we gotta clean out those wounds.”

Stan’s shoulder aches at the mere thought.

“It would have been easier and more effective if we cleaned it out when these wounds were first opened,” Ford mumbles angrily. The fingers poking around the wound get a bit harsher, and Stan’s arm jerks. His fingers go soft again, an apology he refuses to actually voice.

“But we didn’t,” Fiddleford says. “It’d be easier if none of us got hurt in the first place, but that didn’t happen either. We just gotta make the best of what we ended up with.”

“You’re being incredibly permissive,” Ford grumbles.

“I ain’t his dad,” Fiddleford scoffs, grabbing his bag. “I ain’t about to go lecture him when he’s already sufferin’ for his choices.”

Stan mumbles something about his own dad and insult to injury (further injury to injury?) and Fiddleford’s parenting, but even in his own head it doesn’t end up making any sense.

Fiddleford returns, and Stan is suddenly reminded of what they were doing in the first place. As Stan tries to shy away, Ford’s grip tightens around his wrist, and the other grips him at the elbow. One two three four five six fingers wrapped around his arm. Counting them is the only thing that keeps him from kicking away. Well, that and the stiff ache of every part of his dumb body, but he’s even less likely to admit to that.

“Sorry, Lee,” Fiddleford mumbles, carefully wiping away the dried blood with a damp cloth. “Shoot, it really did a number on ya, huh?”

“It’s…” Stan suddenly remembers Ford’s reaction to his earlier dismissals, and decides on, “yeah, guess so.”

Fiddleford starts to rub at the scabs, gently wiping away what little protection had formed there. It certainly hurts, but Stan knows it’s only going to get worse.

“So, we just clean it out and hope for the best?” Stan asks between gritted teeth.

“‘fraid so, ‘less we find a horse and a couple months of free time before you recover.”

“A horse?” Stan echoes, baffled.

“Yeup. You synthesize an antivenom by injecting a horse with a small dose of the relevant toxin over time,” Fiddleford explains, wiping away the blood that wells up to replace the scabs. “It builds up some antibodies that can be isolated and injected alongside an anti-inflammatory… which I suppose we also don’t have.”

“Why a horse?” Stan asks, watching wearily as Fiddleford rings the cloth out and soaks it again with the antibiotic. Antiseptic? Which was it? Was there a difference? There’s a topic to distract them with once they’re done talking.

“… y’know, I don’t rightly know.”

“I suppose it may work with any mammal,” Ford muses, glancing towards the way into the body of the cave.

“Don’t even think about it, fella,” Fiddleford snaps, and Stan feels himself lose track of the conversation. “Stanley’s gonna be just fine without you doin’ anythin’ stupid.”

“Obviously! It’s just… something to consider in the future.”

“It absolutely ain’t. If any of us get poisoned, none of the rest of us are gonna start poisoning ourselves to try an’ fix it!” Fiddleford insists. “And besides, if we did, I would be the one to do it since I’ve already been dosed with neurotoxins!”

“We have no idea how chemically similar this spider’s venom is to that of the Gremloblin, despite the somewhat similar symptoms!” Ford protests, releasing Stan’s arm like he’s about to start gesturing before he puts it back. “Any antibodies you developed, supposing that they haven’t already been lost, may be entirely irrelevant!”

“And besides, it’s a gradual process that wouldn’t be of any use to us now, we have no way to isolate the antibodies, and injection without an anti-inflammatory could cause an allergic response that’d only worsen the condition,” Fiddleford agrees. “So this ain’t a particularly useful line of thinkin’ at all.”

As the period to that particular conclusion, Fiddleford finally presses the wet cloth to Stan’s wounds. For a split second, he thinks, huh, that’s not so bad, before the pain sets in quickly and very, very intensely.

The bite has hurt like hell ever since he first got it, and it’s only been getting worse. The gradual increase in pain spikes, so intense and sudden that Stan can’t muffle a cry as his vision goes white. He tries to breathe in, but his chest locks up, his entire body seizing.

Oh fuck, Stan thinks, and that’s the only thing he can think for a long time. Maybe not so long. It could last anywhere between a few seconds to several hours, Stan has no idea.

Fiddleford and Ford are talking, but it’s just noise to him. Stan grits his teeth so hard he’s certain he can hear them creaking. He wonders if his partials or his actual teeth are tougher. He feels like both of them are seconds away from shattering. He’s seconds away from shattering. Ford’s grip on his arm is tight enough to hurt but it’s nothing in comparison to the white-hot agony between his hands.

He thinks he might hate Fiddleford, actually. He can’t keep getting away with this.

•••

He comes back to himself eventually. For some reason, he’s laying down now, no idea when that happened. His head in Ford’s lap and his arm propped up on a small stack of stones blanketed in Stan’s jacket. It still hurts like a bitch, but at least he can think straight. Straighter. Still not entirely straightly.

His arm is all bandaged up now, which is nice. As Stan glances around what little bits of the cave he can see without moving his neck, he realizes he can’t see Fiddleford. Stupidly, that’s a bit of a relief.

Ford has held him in place while Fiddleford poured white hot acid all over his wounds, but it’s Ford. Ford could dissect him alive without anything to help with the pain and he’d still trust him with his life. That’s his brother.

He blinks blearily up at Ford’s face. He’s not looking at him. He’s looking down at a book he’s got sitting on the ground next to Stan’s head, tapping a five-fingered rhythm against the pages.

Stan hums, just because he can. Ford jolts, and Stan hears the paper wrinkle beneath his fingers. Oops.

“Stanley! Hello, are you— how are you feeling?” Ford says, looking down at Stan like he’s a weird bug. A cool weird bug that he cares about, maybe, but there’s that bright-eyed scientific curiosity.

Bad. So so bad I feel terrible, part of him wants to respond, loud and stupid and childish. Do you remember how you used to run your fingers through my hair when I was sick, even though Ma and Pa told you to stay away so you wouldn’t get sick too? And then you would get sick, and I had to take care of you. I miss that, I miss you, I love you.

I’ve been better, but I’ve also been worse, another says, practical and honest. Probably feeling a bit better than I was last time I was conscious.

Totally fine, another part insists. Let’s get outta here.

“Mmmgh,” he settles on. “Could be worse.”

“How would you rate your current pain on a scale from zero to ten, with zero being no pain at all, and ten being such severe pain that you can’t move, think, or speak?” Ford asks. “Well, I suppose it’s not a ten, since you’re speaking mostly coherently.”

Ten! Ten! We’re dying, you have to save us!

Maybe a seven. My brain’s a scrambled egg but most of it is saying ouch.

Zero, we’re fine, let’s go.

“Eh, a five I guess?” Stan says, rounding down.

“I see, so about a seven,” Ford muses, followed by the scrape of a pen against paper.

“Hey!” Stan barks.

He’s kind of mad that Ford doesn’t believe him, but the rest of him is so, so happy. His dumb genius of a brother remembers him, he knows him, they still speak the same language.

“You’ve always been this way, Lee,” Ford says, and his eyes return to Stan’s face.

Lee. Lee Lee Lee. Ford stopped calling him that in what, high school? Even earlier? The sudden return of their childhood nickname stirs such a flurry of emotions that he stops breathing. His chest hurts in general, but there’s suddenly a pleasant edge to that pain.

He huffs out a breath that sounds dangerously close to a whine. He’s embarrassed by how emotional he’s feeling, but he can’t stop staring up at Ford’s face, even as his vision starts to blur. He blinks to clear it, ignoring the wetness running down his cheek, and gets to watch as Ford’s eyes go wide.

He’s got dark circles. He always does. Bill can’t follow them everywhere, but Ford still avoids sleep whenever he can.

“Why are you crying?” Ford asks, then immediately winces. Stan huffs out a laugh. He’s so bad at being comforting.

“‘m not,” Stan scoffs, and he doesn’t even care if Ford believes him. “It’s cave dust, genius.”

Ford’s lips twitch, even as his brows remain furrowed.

“Yes, alright,” Ford says placatingly. “Do you think you can sit up?”

“Pfft, yeah, easy, done it a million times before,” Stan says, even as his stomach rolls in protest to the muscles flexing around it.

Ford helps him up anyway, one hand on his back, the other holding his arm steady as he props him up against the wall of the cave. Now that he’s up and able to see more than what’s directly above him, he can see Fiddleford tinkering with some scrap metal on the other side of the cave. He’s staring over at Stan, but as soon as their eyes meet he just gives him a tight smile and looks away. For all of his usual fretting, he stays where he is.

“Some water,” Ford says, drawing Stan’s attention.

He’s holding out a packet of water, the lid already twisted off. They’re running low, and Fiddleford hasn’t finished his water filter, hasn’t put together everything he needs for it.

Stan hesitates to take it, but Ford just shoves it into his hand. Stan doesn’t really have the energy to fight it. The moment the water hits his tongue, he realizes just how thirsty he is.

He hums appreciatively, slumping against the cave wall. Fiddleford told him something about drinking slowly at some point? Eh. If he’s going slow, it's only because holding up his arm for long enough to drain the packet is kinda a pain.

As soon as he’s done with the water, Ford exchanges the empty packet for a food bar.

Stan frowns down at it. His stomach rolls, but he can’t really tell if it’s hunger or nausea.

Moses, he’d kill for some plain crackers to test the water. Acid. Stomach acid.

He really does not want to eat this thing. He’s fairly sure the only thing that kept him from throwing up earlier (yesterday? He has no idea how long he’s been out) was his empty stomach. An empty stomach that’s only getting emptier. Stan should know better than to turn up his nose to a free meal.

Ugh.

Stan sighs, but tears it open and nibbles at one corner. His stomach tenses in anticipation, and a dull ache laces through his jaw. It tastes fine, and his stomach doesn’t hurt any worse, but he finds himself exhausted by the time he’s done.

It must be pretty bad, because even Ford seems to pick up on it. He eases him back down. He’s still sweating like a hog, but his skin has erupted into goosebumps and he misses the familiar comfort of his ratty jacket around him. He’s glad it’s nearby, at least. He means to run the fingers of his injured arm along the fabric of his jacket, but can’t manage much more than a twitch. So that’s still beyond his capabilities. Noted.

“Hey, Ford…?” he mumbles.

“Yes, Stanley?”

Thank you. I love you. Why are you being so nice to me?

“Shouldn’ we get a move on?”

“We will,” Ford says softly, and he runs his fingers through Stan’s hair. “As soon as you’re feeling better.”

[as-is-above-so-below]

Cardigan - John Price x F!Teacher!Reader

Part 2: Midnight Rain

summary: you get yourself in a pickle a/n: hi! I return again! I'm sorry it's short, but I'm trying a new method of posting. Instead of aiming for a specific word count (which leads to me getting writer's block and not posting ANYTHING), I write until I'm satisfied with what I'm trying to achieve. Hopefully, I've achieved that goal, and y'all like it :) Blessed be! << Previous | Next >>

You drummed your fingers against the notebook in your lap and gnawed on the top of your pen. It was late, even by your standards; the sun had long since set, and dinner eaten hours ago. But you were up, sitting in the dark in your living room, heavy rain pelting your old windows. You were trying to pull together a new lesson plan for the following day. A few curious students had started asking questions about the modern military. Like, key differences between military strategies used in the time they were studying and today. And, of course, yet again, you made promises that you were struggling to keep. And you always keep your promises to your students.

Fuck.

The internet wasn’t helping at all. You didn’t study military strategy in any of your courses. Was that even a thing?

The last thing you wanted to do was call him. You were so confident that you could solve your problem yourself, at nine o’clock. Now, it was past midnight, and you were absolutely desperate.

Fuck.

Before your tired brain can flood with guilt and change its mind, you grab your phone from your nightstand and tap into your recent calls log. Your stomach churned, anxiety bubbling up with every trill. God, it’s so fucking late to be calling. It felt like you were split in two. One half of you was praying that his phone was on silent (you know it’s not) or he’ll sleep through the ringing (he won’t), while the other–the miserable, exhausted half–needed him to pick up.

The latter won out.

“Y/N? Are you alright?”

John’s deep, sleepy voice made you feel guilty and incredibly happy that you’d woken him up. Soft and grumbly, rolling in his chest; it made you feel soft and warm inside…

Not the point of the call.

“Hi, John. I’m completely fine, I just…” You took a deep breath, the heel of your free hand pressed into one of your dry, worn-out eyes. “I know you’re this big important captain, and you have work in the morning, but I’m in a bit of a pickle and need a massive favor.”

There was a slight rustling on the other end like he had turned slightly to check the nearby time. “It’s one o’clock in the morning, love,” he mumbled.

You felt even worse. “I know, I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me,” you begged, running a hand over the top of your head. “One of my kids asked about the military. It sparked a whole discussion in class, and I may have overstated my knowledge. I barely know anything about it, and my brain is turning to mush. I’m so tired I wanna cry, and-”

He quickly cut off your rambling. “Woah, hey. Slow down there. What’s going on?” he asked, suddenly sounding much more awake. 

That brought you pause. You honestly hadn’t thought what you would ask if John actually answered the phone through. It was one o’clock in the morning, which John had correctly pointed out, and your brain wasn’t operating at full capacity. 

“I was…wondering if you could give me a lesson. Because I’m super tired, and I like to hear you talk.”

“…You do?”

“Yeah. I’ve learned a lot from you just…talking to me? But I’m a history teacher. I’m an expert on wars, not war.”

There was some shuffling on the phone. On the other line, John was leaning over the edge of his bed, searching blindly for his little pocket planner in the pile of clothes on the floor. The rustling stopped when he placed the device on his pillow, rifling through the calendar. He sniffed and was quiet for a moment, while you nibbled anxiously at your pen. Again.

The silence finally broke with a tired sniffle from John. “I can do you better. Why don’t I come to your classes tomorrow?” he asked.

You froze, pen still between your teeth. John? Coming to your school? Spending the day with your students? That would be the equivalent of introducing your boyfriend to your children. 

“…Really?”

“Sure.”

Could you even call him your boyfriend? You’d been on a few dates, sure, over the last…two months? No, it was closer to three. Had it been that long already? You did some quick math in your head. You’d gone on about one date a week, with a few canceled due to last-minute commitments. Still, about one date a week, over three months…

Holy shit.

“John, I’m sure you’re busy. I couldn’t-”

“Not at all,” he hummed, cutting you off. “Besides, it would take me ‘til class tomorrow to give you a good enough rundown, and the boss loves shite like this.”

“I thought you were the boss?”

You could practically hear a small smile tugging at John’s lips. The expression was a familiar one. The corner of his mouth quirked up, shifting his beard and creating happy wrinkles near his eyes. His nose would scrunch up a bit, too, especially if you were out in cold weather. 

“Everybody has a boss, sweetness. Myself included.”

Christ. Not the pet names. And especially not in the tired, gravelly tone his voice was currently in. John Price was going to be the death of you, even in his unfocused state.

You unfolded your legs from underneath you and moved your notebook onto the coffee table. Your resolve was fading, and you couldn’t be bothered to argue. While you did feel bad about dragging John to your school to fix the problem you created, you weren’t sure you had any other option. Accept defeat? To a group of teenagers? Absolutely not. You’d never live it down. You sighed, rubbing tiredly at your eyes. “If you’re sure…”

“I am.”

A soft smile crossed your face. “Is this just a ploy to meet my kids?”

“Maybe.”

Your sleepy giggles were like music to John’s ears. The sound alone was worth the favor. As if he wouldn’t have done it anyway, just to ease your stress. He would take any and every opportunity to make your day easier or make you happy. What he wouldn’t give to hear that laugh in person, laying beside you in your bed–

No. John’s a good man. A gentleman, he would say. A man who was perfectly capable of not acting on his urges and thoughts. At least, not in person. However, in the privacy of his own home? That was a different story.

“Thank you so much, John.”

Right. You’re still on the phone. He heard a soft click on your end of the call.

“That’d better be you closing your laptop, I’m hearing.”

“It is.”

“Good girl.” You blushed furiously. Fuck. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight.”

taglist: @novausstuff, @cutiecusp, @ittosbigfatmantitties, @helpimhyperfixating, @hihhasotherfixations, @dugiioh, @glitterypirateduck, @cringeycookies, @lethalchiralium

Copyright © 2023 as-is-above-so-below. All rights reserved.

[dinasfavslut]

hello could you do a sal fisher x fem reader who is very confident but also really friendly?

Ok so I tried but I wasn’t sure if you wanted smut or fluff I guess it’s just more fluff and to be completely honest is was kinda lazy with it I’m sorry it’s not my best but I hope you like it (probably will delete later)

Sally Face x Fem!r

No major warnings slight smut near the end but just like leaving marks and neck kisses

I believe that he has many insecurities because of the trauma he experienced as a child and because of the mask he wears.

-

When you go to the beach, Sal normally doesn't get in the water; he doesn't want his mask to get torn or fly off by a large wave, and if he does, he makes sure it doesn't get above his knees.

-

As much as he adores you, he is also envious of your confidence and unaffected demeanor when you fall flat on your face in public. People fall all the time. So, if someone messes up your or his order when getting food, you call the waitress back so they may make the necessary corrections.

-

You met for the first time in college. You could say you were popular, but it was more about how kind you were and how many friends you had. You were well-known, but not everyone knew who you were or wished to be like you. So you were sitting in chemistry as the "popular" girl next to the "quiet" guy (it's always the quiet ones). "Woah, that's such a cool mask!"

"Oh, uh, thanks."

"Did you make it yourself or get it from somewhere?"

“It’s just prosthetic." He didn't want to give into too much information since he didn't want to scare you away too quickly. He was surprised you didn't ask him what the mask was for; that hadn't come up in a long time.

-

You've been dating for a few months but have only known each other for around a year."Don't you want to know why I am wearing this?"

"I mean, yeah, I've always wondered, but you haven't seemed at ease talking about why you wear it or what happened, but I think you'll tell me when you're ready."

It took him some time. He removed his mask totally about five months into the relationship. He was stunning. You couldn't help but run your fingers through his hair and kiss him like you'd wanted to for so long. His lips were surprisingly soft. Larry and Ash are the only people who have seen his face (his father is irrelevant). You're now staring at him in awe. "I knew you'd look lovely, but I really underestimated myself." He drew you back into the embrace. It was brimming with passion, love, hunger, and lust.

-

You feel like it was harder not to kiss him. Consider how many times he's wanted to pull off the mask and make out with you, but he couldn't be too concerned about how you'd scream in fright or slap him for leading you on for so long just to be mortified under his mask. He was well aware that they were ridiculous ideas.

-

It was dark and rainy outside, and he had planned to take you out to a nice meal. You had your hair done perfectly, your makeup was simple, highlighting your best features, and you wore a dress that accentuated all of your curves as well as a pair of sneakers to look attractive while remaining comfortable. He was driving with his headlights on, barely able to see due to the heavy rain. "Holy shit, Sal! Stop the car, Sal!" He pushed on the brakes, forcing himself forward as you jumped out of the car. A cat was frozen in front of the car; it was dark, wet, and shivering. You cloaked it in a hoodie.

Your hair was a mess, and what you thought was smear-proof mascara was running down your cheeks. "We don't have to go if you don't want us to."

“No no, I'll just put my hair up and clean my make-up." You walked into the restaurant, garnering strange looks as if you'd been living on the street. "sal table for two?"

The night finished with you leaving markings all over him and him biting into your neck, which was okay because you were willing to wear anything that claimed you as his.

[blue-jisungs]

Helloo first of all merry christmas and happy early new year (or whatever holidays you celebrate)!!!! I don't know if your OPLA requests are still open, but i would absolutely LOVE a stabilished relationship sanji x (gn) reader where reader is kind of an ambivert who tends to be embarassed to speak their mind when they're uncomfy or when they need something, so sanji always keeps an eye on them to check if they're okay. Sort of like a couple who has their own language that no one else understands, just reallyyyy fluffy stuff

If you don't feel like writing it it's totally okay!!! Have a nice day<3

code

author's note. hi anonnie!! sorry for such a late reply <\3 i don’t celebrate but thank u hehe i hope u had a nice time too ^^ to be honest i’m not really happy with how this turned out but i couldn’t think of anything else :( either way, i hope you enjoy it even a little bit :D

it was no secret that you have the tendency to get shy, especially when asking for something. it’s been always a struggle of yours, more often than not ending up in a position you didn’t want to find yourself in simply because you failed to ask for something… or deny.

which you were fine with, technically. sure, no one enjoys being in uncomfortable situations but you got used to it.

however, dating sanji was a turning point in your life. previously, your family and strangers would ignore your needs or just assume that if you didn’t deny anything, you were fine with it. this bad habit of yours took sanji a while to crack.

just like when you turned in the baratie for the first time with a friend of yours.

“anything else, pretty?” the handsome (your future to be boyfriend, not like you knew) blonde man asked with a charming smile. your friend shook jer head while you blinked. sanji used this opportunity to persuade you into ordering more “may i offer something?”

you were absolutely full, no more space in your stomach whatsoever. it was sure you wouldn’t fit more but–

“maybe dessert? such a sweet person deserves a tiramisu to end their day” sanji’s pearly whites glinted in a warm smile. and you nodded shyly, almost awkwardly.

he didn’t pay attention to it then but at the end of the day, laying down before sleep… his memory recalled the resistance in your eyes but a fake smile of acceptance.

since you dined at baratie quite often (yes, he was one of the reasons) sanji started to recognize your habits. that you ordered even if you were full or didn’t like a certain dish… and how you sometimes even forced yourself to eat it because you didn’t want him or the cooks to feel bad.

which made his heart clench – both with worry and because of how cute you are.

with him being your boyfriend and lots of free time on the going merry, which you joined because you two couldn’t stand the possibility of being far away from each other and luffy not minding at all (“the more the merrier”, he said), sanji promised himself to work on it. for your own good because he hated the fact that some people could get advantage of you.

like usopp.

“hiyaaaa y/n! would you mind cleaning the crow’s nest for me?” usopp asked, the usual wide grin adorning his face. you blinked, embarrassed to deny yet…

“wh… um…” you started and the great captain put the broom in your hands, patting your arm

“thanks! i’m sooo tired, you know?” he stretched dramatically, eyes closing. you had plans – you were supposed to help sanji in making dinner… but now…

“they’re not cleaning anything, usppp”

the boy’s eyes shot open and he jolted upon hearing sanji’s voice. the cook didn’t look so friendly – arms crossed, cold look in his ocean eyes.

“oh yeah, right! no problem… it was a joke you see!” usopp chuckled nervously and took the broom back.

“joke my ass. do not use them like that or next time the broom is getting shoved–”

“woah, woah, woah… i got the message” usopp squeaked and ran away to the crow’s nest. you pouted.

“sorry…” a sigh escaped your lips and sanji stepped closer, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear.

“no, no. don’t apologize, there’s no need. but we need to work on that, darling” he smiled tenderly and pecked your forehead.

one day after telling sanji that you’re just too embarrassed to say no or speak your mind, he came up with an idea – that you have a secret code. obviously if you were too shy, you’d just tap him or wink twice. at first, you thought it was silly. but sooner than you imagined, you came to a conclusion that it’s a pretty brilliant idea.

additionally, even if you didn’t know about that, your boyfriend always kept his eye on you. scanning your face and reactions so he could barge in anytime; as creepy as it sounded because of that sanji knew you like the back of your hand and sometimes even without using words, he knew that you were uncomfortable.

“so, so, so! we should head out! there’s no time to lose!” luffy announced on a random monday morning, almost jumping off the walls “we’re going to y/n’s family island!”

your eyes widened as you watched the captain terrified, sanji instantly tensing.

“w… what? why?” you stuttered and luffy stopped in his tracks.

“it’s famous for its sewing arts, right? we need new clothes… and it’s gonna be fun! we’ll meet your family!” luffy grinned.

you felt sanji’s hand on yours, tapping your thumb twice. “are you okay?”, that’s what the gesture meant. you looked at him, hesitantly shaking your head.

“d-…” you didn’t even manage to choke out, puffing your cheeks.

“do we have to? we can get clothes everywhere” the blonde asked, moving his thumb in a soothing motion. sanji asked exactly what you wanted to. maintaining eye contact, he nodded. “i’ve got this”

“but y/n’s family…” luffy whined, pouting.

“y/n should speak for herself on this matter, luffy. maybe she doesn’t want to see them?” sanji hummed.

luffy has a golden heart and pure soul but sometimes could get a bit too much… and doesn’t understand some human reactions. and it’s not like you hated your family – you just left in a hurry, a tense atmosphere in the household. and you just weren’t ready to return.

“so?” luffy asked, rising his eyebrows. sanji squeezed your hand, encouraging you.

“i don’t really want to… see them. right now.” you mumbled shyly “sorr–”

“no, no. don’t say sorry, i just… wanted to surprise you” luffy smiled, his eyes twinkling. he came up to you and patted your head “we’ll go there once you’re ready. just tell me!”

nodding shyly, you watched luffy leave. sanji grinned and cupped your face.

“what? was it bad?” you asked, blinking.

“no, darling. you were very brave” he cooed and placed a soft kiss on your lips “i’m proud”

then sanji moved his hand to your back and drummed a melody, signalling that usopp is coming. you snickered and pecked his cheek, being met with a loud whine coming from the boy who just entered the room.

masterlist <3

taglist. @eternalgyu ,, @haecien

[l0ve-dov3]

where the sun shines.

percy jackson x demeter! reader

summary: in which you take percy strawberry picking for the first time!

warnings: none!

word count: 606

authors note: hey hey hey! this is really short (the following parts should be longer) but i felt like i wasn’t seeing much of percy, so i wanted to fix that and write a little something for my percy girls out there. this series is betrayal free, so no need to worry about castellan. anyways, that’s all, enjoy the fic!!!!

“Why do we even have a strawberry field?”

“Because…Demeter, I guess?”

It was mid summer, and you’d forced Percy to join you in picking strawberries. It was his first summer staying at camp, and since you were his closest friend, you showed him all the things you loved about this time of year. Today, that thing was strawberry picking.

“I mean, camp has some of the best strawberries I’ve ever tasted.” You started calmly, imagining the flavor of your favorite fruit, “You’re gonna love ‘em, I promise.”

Percy nodded, half believing you as he reached down for another strawberry. He didn’t care so much about picking berries, finding it a rather simple activity at a camp for demigods, but he listened to each word you spoke as if it would be your last. “I’m trusting you on this one, pollen-head.”

In the time Percy had been at camp, you had become one of his closer friends, outside of Annabeth and Grover. You’d met in his first few days when he wandered off during the bonfire, which you often did to get some alone time, leading him to find you just by the edge of the forest.

“Hello?” Percy called, clutching Riptide as he approached a moving figure. He had thought that, in his wandering, he wouldn’t find anyone by the forest; but apparently he was wrong. When you turned to him, his fist unclenched, releasing Riptide back into his pocket when he met your tearful gaze.

“Sorry for scaring you.” You chuckled, wiping your tears as you returned your eyes to the dark, unmoving forest. “I’m not really used to people finding me here.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything, I guess.” The boy returned awkwardly, sitting next to you in an uncertain manner.

Usually, if Percy ran into someone crying, he would have pretended not to notice and walked away. But for whatever reason, and he couldn’t tell you why, he sat next to you that night; thus beginning a year-long friendship.

“What’cha thinkin’ about, fish face?” Your voice resonated in his head, pulling him away from the wistful memory.

“The day we met, when I should’ve been at my first bonfire.” He chuckled, looking at you with that cheeky grin, “I actually think about it a lot.”

“Woah there partner, you may start thinking we’re really friends.” You teased, giving him a light push as you gathered your last berries. The boy chuckled half-heartedly, not knowing why the words made him feel so off. Somewhat confused, he followed behind you with his own basket, coming to a stop as you sat under a great oak tree. “But…I guess I think about it too.”

He journeyed toward you, carefully putting his basket next to yours before settling at your side. “Oh? And here I thought we were pretending to be friends.” Percy tried to joke, nudging you gently.

“Yeah,” You sighed, “But you know, you really are a good friend Percy. I’m glad you found me in the forest that day.”

Percy’s heart pounded harder in his chest, stunning him with a sense of alarm. You looked at him with that gentle smile, and he felt light as air, staring back at you like the world was anew. A new feeling, unfamiliar and odd, wracked his body like a thousand waves. “Yeah…Yeah, I’m glad too.” He breathed, just above a whisper.

You raised a brow at his change in nature, shaking your head with a light chuckle.

Percy Jackson, you thought.

What a weird kid.

[starsh1neee]

𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐂𝐨𝐝𝐞| Suna Rintarō

fuckboy suna rintarō x f!reader

+ content warning / MDNI use of pet names ( baby, whore, traitor, slut, prettiest girl), smut, teasing, nipple play, dirty talk etc, girl code, friends w benefits, toxic mindset, victim alike, reader is petty asf.

you love your best friend, you love your best friend, you love your best friend, you love your best friend.

you would never thought once you would break girl code for any of your friends. You were the most loyal friend anyone could ever have or so you thought. It all started when you and your best friend Aiko got accepted in the same college.

you’ve been eyeing this guy in one of your lecture, who is a volleyball player. His name was Suna rintarō and he played for Inarizaki in his high school year.

Only just to find out your best friend aiko was dating him, they’ve been talking for a month. When you found out, you felt somewhat hurt but it didn’t really matter to you because it was just a small crush.

One day, you both were assigned for a partner project. You’ve guys made eye contact a couple of times and you thought he was really attractive, but you had no intention getting with him before you found out him and your best friend were a thing. Just do this project for the credits and get it over with.

when you guys were assigned to work together, you told him to meet you at library that anyone from school barley goes to.

You both met up and sat down. The whole time, you didn’t look at him. You couldn’t look at this guy in the eye, you’ve heard some rumors about him. Some people say he’s a sex goddess in bed or he knows what he’s doing, so you tried to not be one of his victims.

you sighed, you realized you can’t get extra credit if you don’t tell him your ideas and communicate with each other. So you built up the courage and took a look at him, he was passed out on the table with his head down.

You were disappointed, but not shocked because he is a popular guy.

this is just a one time project, wake him up so you can get points to get the hell out of here. You thought to yourself.

you got up and shrugged him gently, he turned to look at you. You guys made eye contact and you got lost staring at his eyes for one minute.

“you need something?” You stop staring at his eyes and brought yourself back to reality.

“can you do your part of the work please? I’m not trying to do all the work by myself.”

suna looked at you, like your words didn’t mean nothing. “yeah I will, when I feel like it.”

you sighed, well it was at least worth a try.

“well then, I’m gonna get going because if we’re just gonna do our work different timing and not communicate together then we might as well just text each other if we need questions.”

You started to pack your stuff. Before you zipped your bag up, you needed to pack one more thing before you could go back to your dorm to do the rest of your homework. Which was your AirPods, you put one of your hand on the table to see where you left it, but it was gone.

You looked around your table, then looked at suna just to see him playing with your airpods. You rolled your eyes, you went up to him and put your hand in front of his face. “may I please have my airpods back?” you looked at him and he could tell you were not having it.

“why leaving so soon?” He continued playing with your airpods.

“because I have plans suna, please give it back.”

he looked at you, “you’ll get it back, but I want something in return.”

you scoffed, “why would you want something in return that’s mine?”

“woah there, someone is in a bad mood.” he teased.

“yeah because you won’t do your work and you won’t give something of mine back?” You clapped back at him politely.

“just do one thing for me and you’ll get them back okay?”

you took a deep breath, “fine what is it so badly what you want.”

“what’s the question to number 12 for the homework?”

you rolled your eyes at him, “why are you asking answers now? you had all this time but you used it sleeping.”

“yeah cause I didn’t get any sleep, plus I’m a volleyball player and I have a very annoying, clingy girlfriend.”

clingy? Annoying? Your best friend? Annoying and clingy?

“I’m sorry, did you just called my best friend annoying and clingy?” You gave him a look out of disgust.

“do I need to explain?”

To be honest, you couldn’t really blame him. Aiko was too pushy sometimes and always push you out of your comfort zone. Sometimes she was rude to her parents because she always didn’t get what she wants plus she is pretty rich and spoiled, but you didn’t bother to but in because she was a good friend to you.

“Then why are you with her?” You asked him with a curious look on your face

“cause I thought she was my dream girl but I guess that changed in a month.”

you couldn’t believe this guy, but the annoying part was you felt relief. You felt like an asshole for feeling like that but you did like him first.

you sighed, you checked the time on your phone. It was Aiko who was spamming you to pick her up some coffee on the way home and her sending you puppy eye emojis. You just smiled a bit, but while you smiled it made suna curious on what made smile so much.

he kept his cool, for now.

“sorry suna I have to get going, if you have any questions just text me.” Before he could respond, you just left with no hesitation.

After you left, you picked up some coffee for Aiko. On the way home, you couldn’t stop thinking about the fact how suna called your best friend clingy and annoying. It just bothered you, not because he said that.

because it satisfied your worries.

You got to your apartment and unlocked the door. You took your shoes off and yelled “I’m home.”

“Welcome back y/n!! How was studying with my future husband?”

You cringed that she called suna her future husband, they’ve been dating for at least 4 weeks now.

“pain in the ass to be honest, he didn’t do anything but, slept the whole time.” Your friend just chuckled

“That sounds like him.” She had a smile, but it was those kind of smiles where you could tell when someone actually cares about someone.

you felt guilty that you were relief he even called her annoying and clingy because she actually cared about him. She treated him better unlike you could.

“Hey, rin is gonna come over tomorrow and we’re gonna binge movies. Wanna join us?”

You hesitated, cause you knew you would be hurt seeing them being all lovey doves together, but something in you just really wanted to see him again.

“um I’ll think about it, I might have to take care of my brothers dog tomorrow.”

“oh come onn, your always taking care of your brother dog. At this point he’s your dog, you might as well bring him here.”

“Aiko…”

“Come on y/n!! Please it’ll be such a good experience and nice bonding time for all of us!! Plus you can sit in the same couch as us, just bring his dog over here please? You’ve done it once before, you could do it again.” Aiko had those puppy dog eyes, you couldn’t resist but like always you ended up said yes.

It was the next day, but you couldn’t somewhat help feeling so nervous. You thought about dressing up cute for suna, your best friend boyfriend.

stop, knock out of it y/n. He’s your best friend boyfriend just put some sweats and a hoodie on. You put your grey sweats and a large hoodie on.

You walked out of your room, getting your keys about to pick up your brothers dog for the night. “Where are you going? Suna is gonna be here any moment now?”

“I have to get my brother dog, I’ll be back just start the movie without me.” You said that quickly and dipped. You arrived at your brother’s apartment and saw your brother’s golden retriever dog. He jumped onto you and you decided to go to the park and play fetch with him before going back home, before you feel trapped.

After playing, running, throwing for what seems like 24 hours even though it’s been 2. You’ve decided to go back home and face your least favorite part of the day just to get it over with.

Once you arrived at the place, you opened the door and yelled your home. The dog went inside, but waited for you to take you shoes off. You went to the living room to seem them cuddling, on the outside you seemed like you didn’t care and it was normal to you, but the inside you just wanted to scream really loud.

D/n walked up to Aiko and suna to get some attention before coming back to you.

“Awe look at d/n, he’s gotten so big now.” Aiko said adoring him.

“hey y/n.” Suna greeted you with a smile, “hi” you dryly responded back.

Aiko went on and on how you took so long and missed the first two movies which was really good, but you didn’t care because your just glad you let all the worried thoughts out at the park.

You just played with d/n on the floor, giving him belly rubs so you could kill some time.

But, the universe had other plans and decided no. The dog literally passed out within 20 minutes. Couldn’t blame him, he was running all day. You guys were watching some Pixar movie when all of a sudden Aiko asked something you hope she wouldn’t asked.

“Y/n, come lay on the couch with us!! “Cuddle” with us y/n!!” Your friend jokingly laughed

You see, it’s not a problem about you sitting on the same couch as them. It’s that you would have to share and sit right next to suna.

“It’s okay, I’ll just lay with d/n on the floor. I don’t mind it.” You gave a fake smile.

“Stop being such a wuss and come up here, but go change into shorts because it’s so hot in here and your wearing a full body suit of winter clothes during the summer.” She teased

that kinda pissed you off a bit, but you nodded and went to your room to change. You just rushed and grabbed the closet pair of shorts you could find, short or not. You didn’t care, you were in the mood for her annoying bullshit right now.

Damn he was not kidding when suna said she was annoying, usually she not this pushy but when she’s with suna she’s like a bug who won’t leave you alone.

deep inside, you knew it wasn’t her that was the problem. It was you, because you wish you were her in suna arms right now. You needed it most, and you felt ashamed admitting that.

You went downstairs to the living room, you sat where the extra place on the couch was. Right next to suna, you felt nervous and tried your best to stay away from him.

“Y/n, are you cold? Do you need some blanket?” Suna asked looking at you.

“I’m fine, I can just grab my own if I need one don’t worry.” You said with a little harsh tone.

Suna couldn’t help, but smile.

“y/n, you can have some and share with us. We don’t mind.” Aiko had a worried look on her face. It was making you more irritated, suna put some blanket over you and you guys continued watching the movie.

During the movie, you could tell suna giving you some glances. You didn’t look back because you wanted nothing to do with him.

Aiko all of a sudden paused the movie, “I have to use the bathroom plus do my skincare. I’ll be back in 20 minutes.” She giggled getting up and going upstairs to the bathroom.

You just sighed and grabbed your phone to avoid looking at suna.

You were scrolling on instagram then all of a sudden you heard a raspy voice speaking. “Why are you avoiding me?” You looked up and see suna staring at you.

“cause I’m loyal?”

“But that shouldn’t give you the fact to ignore me, you didn’t even look at my eyes begging you to help me.”

You were confused, “what do you mean by helping you?”

“I have a dead arm now because you didn’t “save” me.” You couldn’t believe this guy, he’s such an asshole.

“suna, just please respect your girlfriend.”

“I know your jealous.” You blushed because shit he’s right. “Me? Why would I be jealous of my best friend and her boyfriend cuddling?”

“why otherwise are you avoiding me?”

You just sighed while turning off your phone and looked at him.

“cause I just don’t feel like talking to anyone?” It was awkward and quiet for another three minutes

“can I lay into your arms? Before she comes back?”

“I don’t know..” you hesitated

“please? I’ve been waiting all to do this all day.”

“don’t you have a girlfriend? Just ask her instead?” You gave him a look that made you nervous

“yeah, but I want it to be you instead.”

no y/n, that is your best friends boyfriend. There’s a ton of other guys in the world who would kill to be with you. Plus suna is literally just a playb-

fuck it, you opened your arms as a sign to welcome him in.

He gave no hesitation to crawl into your arms, and he put his head into your neck. You were finally satisfied with your touch starving problem you’ve been having since you arrived here. You played with his hair a bit and he was getting really comfortable.

“Your arms feel better.” You could tell he was saying the truth, because when he said that he let a deep breath out.

You knew Aiko was still upstairs, you could hear the music and sink running.

“I don’t want to let you go.” You admit with no shame.

he looked at you and you just looked away. You cringed the fact you said that, then all of a sudden you snapped back into reality and slowly started to let go of him, but he stopped you.

He grabbed your arms and said “I don’t wanna leave you either.”

You guys held each other for another five minutes, one of guilt and one who felt free. Then all of a sudden suna got up again and he put his forehead onto you.

“can I do something for you?” He looked at you and you nodded.

He went to your ear and whispered, “can I make you feel good before she comes back? please I need this.”

You blushed and looked at him, “what if she caught us?”

“she won’t, if your not so loud.” He teased.

“Do you trust me?” He slowly move your shorts aside and started to rub your clit in circles through your underwear teasing you.

you nodded trying not to moan or make any sound so instead you leaned in for a kiss.

you guys have a slow passionate kiss, you guys made out while he was rubbing your clit.

You were moving a lot and gripping onto his shoulder, trying to hold your moans.

He apart his mouth from yours, “are you gonna come?” He whispered in your ear.

you couldn’t respond, but he started to rub your clit faster.

When you masterbate, you only finger yourself. You’ve never found the “right” place to make yourself cum on your clit.

And some what surprise, suna found that spot.

“suna..” you whispered in his ear.

“call me rin when it’s just us two.”

“rin..I’m close..I can’t hold my moans in if you keep doing that.” You whimpered quietly. “moan in my ear baby, your moans are so cute.”

And that’s what you did, you started to moan in his ear. It felt good, then all of a sudden you both heard the sink turn off, but suna was determined to make you cum.

he started to rub even faster, you gasped on how fast he was rubbing your clit.

soon you started hearing footsteps coming down the stairs, “rin..I’m gonna cum.”

“cum for me baby, hurry.”

after a couple more seconds you came and you both quickly got off each other. Suna licked his fingers with the ones he rubbed your clit with.

You guys both went back to your original places and you grabbed your phone and acted like you were on it this whole time.

“hi guys” Aiko said yawning

“hi baby, come here.” Aiko sat down and put herself all over suna.

you couldn’t even look at them after what you and suna did. Also because suna called her baby after he just called you that.

“do you guys wanna continue the movie?” Aiko looked at the both of you

“nah you guys can continue, I’ll just take me and d/n upstairs. I’m gonna go to bed.”

“really? It’s only 10:30?” Aiko looked at you like you were some crazy lady.

“yes because I actually have to do stuff tomorrow, Night guys.” You got up and went to the sleepy golden retriever on the floor to wake him up.

“night y/n!!” Aiko said and you just smiled.

The dog woke up, right before you and the dog were gonna go upstairs into your room you heard “bye y/n, see you at school.” you stopped for a second after hearing suna’s voice.

he was definitely fucking with you, you just looked and gave him a small smile and went upstairs.

For the rest of the night you could barley sleep, but you fell asleep eventually.

it was two days later since the incident with you and suna on the couch. You come home one day and you see Aiko pissed on the couch, the same one suna pleasured you on.

you asked her what’s wrong and she told you her and suna are taking a break because he wasn’t putting effort into the relationship. Plus he was so dry with her and eve more dry in person, so she decided to take a break with him because she still wanted him.

You just decided to comfort her, but something in you was pushing you to do something you shouldn’t do.

You told her you were gonna sleepover at a friends house for the night, she was okay with it and wished you to be safe. You packed your clothes just in case and drove off, you parked into a 24 open grocery store and called suna.

You were nervous while it was ringing but he picked up within a second.

“hello? Y/n?”

“su-“

“rin.”

you sighed

“Rin, are you home right now?”

“yes? why?”

“Aiko told me you guys were taking a break, I was wondering if I could come…over for a bit and then leave.”

“sure, just stay for the night. I’ll give you my address.”

you agreed and ended the call.

He texted you his address and you drove 15 minutes for him. Once you arrived, you took a deep breath and got out of your car. You grabbed your bag and went to the front door.

you knocked on it and he opened the door. He opened it fast, it was like he’s been standing there waiting for you to come. You quickly walked in, and he grabbed you in for a hug.

“rin..”

“don’t move for a minute, please.”

His voice sounded like he’s been wanting this for a while.

while you were in his arms, there’s something you’ve been needing to ask him for a while.

“rin..I have something to ask you.” You apart from his arms and look up at him.

“what is it?” he asked you, being prepared for whatever is gonna be ask

“if you were just gonna be like this with me, then why did you even get with Aiko? And what am I to you? A option..? Because if so I just want this to be a one time thing, and we can go our own ways after this, but please just be honest with me. No matter how harsh.” You’ve been questioning this for awhile.

“I’ve always liked you, I only used Aiko just to get closer with you. I know that sounds fucked up, but you seem so private with your life. I didn’t know how to interact with you, so I got with Aiko. I swear to you, all we did is kiss. Nothing else and I’m willing to break up with her just to get with you.”

“Rin..I appreciate that. Really I do, but Aiko is my best friend and I wouldn’t wanna hurt her like this. I would never thought I do this to my friends, but there’s something about you that’s so different i did. As much I want to be with you everyday, I’m just scared and don’t think I can’t.”

“then let’s date secretly. I can still date Aiko but, not be as touchy with her. I know that sounds wrong, but I don’t wanna hurt you because I like you a lot y/n.”

“rin, I couldn’t do that to Aiko because it make it worse for her, for us. Plus I don’t wanna be secret, I wanna go places with you knowing we don’t have to run away and do it in private. If we have dates I don’t want our only dates just to hangout at your house..” you gently grabbed his tshirt and he just pulled you in for a hug.

“You might hate me for this, but I think we should just tell her. Tell her the truth in front of her now then her finding out later. I know it’s not normal for girls to choose guys over friend, but your the only girl in my eyes.”

you had to pause and think for a moment. Was it really worth it? Yes you liked him first, but would you rather choose a relationship that probably wouldn’t workout over a friendship you loved for almost 7 years.

“Suna, I don’t know. Maybe we can just do this for tonight, but after tonight let’s act like this never happened.”

“since when did you start calling me suna? it’s rin for you?” He let go of you while still holding onto you.

“It’s not my place to call you by your first name, that’s Aiko’s place not mine. I just wish you went to me first and not her.”

He just laughed at you.

“so what? Your just gonna give up like that? Y/n, when we were having that movie night I literally saw you suffering into jealousy watching me cuddle Aiko. Shit, I even wish it was you instead of her. Your just gonna cut this off and keep suffering while watching us being all lovey dovey?”

damn he’s such an asshole, no wonder why him and Aiko are on a break jeez.

“Suna, it’s not gonna matter to me anymore. As long I move on and just accept it, I’ll be okay. Plus, I’m planning on moving out to live on my own anyway and I got accepted to a different university.”

Suna eyes widen when you said that, moving? Your leaving him? Usually he doesn’t care, but when you said that something in him just hurt.

He doesn’t want you to go, he doesn’t want you to leave, he wants you to stay and be with him. Fuck Aiko, fuck her, he doesn’t even like her, he actually thinks she’s fucking annoying. “Because” of her, she’s messing up the opportunity with you.

he was just silent and quiet for a while, “rin…I’ll stay with you just for tonight and you can do anything with me. Hold me, kiss me, anything.”

he just looked at you, you can see the hurt in his green eyes. “Rin, fine. If you can change my mind for tonight I’ll consider staying with you and we can both tell Aiko how we feel together, but I’m still accepting that university and moving out.”

“does she know about that?”

“Of me moving?” He nodded when you asked him that question.

“yes I told her this morning, she was okay with it.”

“What university?”

the university was somewhere in Tokyo Japan, it was way far from where you guys lived.

“what if I go with you, and let’s move in together. I’ll break up with her and you can just ghost Aiko or lose interest.”

That was a good idea, but she always text you 24/7. Whatever, you were willing to sacrifice it.

But first, you wanted to see how he was gonna do tonight with you.

“I’ll be fine with anything, but it depends what you do to make it up to me for the rest of the night.”

he chuckled, he looked at your outfit. You were just wearing a black tube top and blue Jean shorts. He grabbed your waist and kissed you on the lips.

You kissed him back, you both didn’t let go of each other. He stopped and grabbed your hand to lead you where his room was. Once you guys got in his room and he closed the door, he just pushed you on the bed.

It was gentle though, he got on top of you and you guys continue from where you left off.

he pushed your tube tank down to reveal your chest bare. He grabbed your tit and pinched your nipple. You gave out a small moan, “rin..” he started to lick your tit while massaging the other one.

“so beautiful Princess.” You could feel his warm breath on your tit.

“Tonight, let me treat you good okay baby?” You nodded and he went down between your thighs.

He slowly unzipped your short jeans, he was slowly taking everything off you in a way to tease you. He took your shorts off and saw your panties.

He rubbed your clit through your panties slowly, he was rubbing in circles in a slow motion.

“oh my god..” You quietly moaned.

“your so wet, this pussy has been waiting for me all day for me huh?” He started to take off your panties to reveal your full pussy.

“rin..touch me..please.”

“not so fast Princess, I gotta convince you to be with me.”

you whined quietly because of how inpatient you were. Soon enough, suna started to give your clit and single lick. You tried to hold in your moans because your body felt like someone else was in the house.

suna started to slowly make out with your clit, he was doing it on a slow pace. Which made you go insane, he noticed you were holding in some of your moans and only letting the quiet ones out.

“let it all out, no one is here and if so screw it. I’ll show them who’s mine for the night.” He started to continue eating you out.

suna started to eat you out faster, desperately wanting to hear those pretty moans of yours.

damn they were not kidding when they said suna was a fucking sex goddess. It’s like he knew where the right places were to pleasure you, out of all of your one night stands and relationships. You’ve only had bad sex, it wasn’t as good because the guys you were with was clueless.

They didn’t know all your good spots and didn’t know the right pace to build up to your orgasm. Suna though, whoever taught him, taught him good. He knew exactly what he was doing, it was like all those sexual cravings you wanted from your past relationships were granted.

soon enough, suna started to pick up the pace and eat you out faster.

Fuck it, you let out a real moan. Suna got hard hearing your moan. Yes he had sex with other girls, but their moans wasn’t as pretty or turned him on like yours. Your moans made him want to be inside you even more.

Suna starts to lick everything, he was doing it so good you were so close to cum.

“rin…I’m gonna cum..”

but as soon you said that, he stopped. You looked at him like he was crazy and a maniac. “why did you stop..I was so close.” You whined

he just chucked, “patience baby, plus I’m gonna prove to you that I can make you stay and once I do this pussy will be all mine and only mine.”

he got up to position himself right on top front of you, “you’re so beautiful.” While kissing your neck and slowly developing a hickey.

“rin..can the hickeys wait?” You tried to push him off, but he was too strong.

“no, I’m showing everyone who you belong to.”

You couldn’t hold it in and need him in you more then ever.

“Rin, I need you in me. Please, I’m ready.” You begged and he just smiled at you.

“you think your ready pretty baby?” You nodded, he could tell you were begging for his cock.

He put his under cock against your cunt teasing it. He starte to play with your nipples, both felt like hell. This was happening till you begged him to fuck you and you kept squirming.

Suna grabbed his cock, slowly guiding it and positioning it to your entrance before sliding it in. You were trying to adjust to his size, he was so big.

You guys both took a deep breath. Then soon enough suna starts moving slowly, you were squeezing him tight. You were squeezing like crazy, “so fucking tight.” He groaned.

“go faster, please rin? I need you so bad.”

you see, the thing is suna would abusive the fuck out of that pretty cunt of yours except he wanted to hear you say you’ll stay with him after this. He was desperate for you and determined to make you live with him.

“y/n say it.” You looked at him with a confused look, “what do you f-fuck..mean?”

“say you’ll stay with me for the rest of your life, be mine. please y/n?”

you thought about it and you decided yes. You were gonna stay with him because you loved him a lot.

“yes rintarō, I’ll be yours even after all of this.” He smiled, he started to move his hips a little faster.

you were a moaning mess as he pound into you like it’s the end of the world.

“fuck y/n..keep squeezing me, mm so fucking right.” He held your hand as he pounds into you.

Suna then went more forward and changed his hips position, he started to thrust you into a faster pace. You were losing it.

“r-rin- ah! I’m so close.” You moaned loudly while feeling the pleasure he was giving you.

“fuck, cum with me baby please. cum with me.” He whimpered in your ear which made you even more wet.

“rin, cum inside me please. Breed me, fill me up please I want your cum.” You moaned

how could he pass up an offer like that?

soon enough, you guys both came at the same time. Suna cum filled you up like crazy, he pulled out and grabbed the towel near his night lamp.

He cleaned you up and soon enough jump onto you.

“Y/n, I love you.”

you looked at him and kissed him on the forehead while you play with his hair.

“I love you too rin.”

[misserabella]

so may i ask if i can request abby & bratty(ish) reader having phone sex because she NEEDS an orgasm. Abby is helping her get what she wants if you get what i’m saying 💕💕 :)

thru the phone

abby anderson x fem! reader

cw; +18content, minors dni!, sexting, nudes, phone sex, bratty needy reader, abby and reader are kind of fuck buddies that hate each other, teasing, degradation, praise kink, masturbation (r and abby), praising, use of pet names like good girl and baby or doll instead of y/n, sub! reader, dom! abby, mentions of abby strap, dirty talking…

her phone’s screen light up with her favorite girl’s messages. as she went into the chat, expecting you to be cursing her for some shit that’s he had done to you this morning at school (something you did quite a lot), her eyes widened at the messages you’d sent her instead.

abby

i can’t cum

there was a picture attached under those simple 4 words. abby groaned when she took in the sight of two of your fingers pushing inside your sticky and puffy cunt, thighs glistening in your slick.

jesus christ. okay woah.

help me.

aw, you need me baby? poor thing can’t make herself cum?

you could almost hear the mock on her voice.

oh fuck you.

you wish baby. isn’t that why you’re texting me?

and why are you answering?

‘cause there’s a cute girl on my phone begging me to help her cum.

you scoffed, rolling your eyes.

i’m not begging.

not yet.

your stomach bursted with butterflies as a needy moan left your lips.

you’re a dick.

and you suck.

come on abby.

i don’t see you beg doll

you groaned.

i fucking hate you.

i bet you do princess

yes. fuck. i fucking hate you but i need to hear your voice, so please

hmmm, say that again

please, abby, please…

what do you need?

i need you, fuck, please abby i need you

pick up

as you finished reading the text, the call popped up on your screen. you had never been faster into pressing the green button, putting her on speaker.

“so pathetic…you can’t cum baby? your fingers aren’t good enough?” you groaned, your free hand cupping your tit and teasing your nipple. “poor thing…”

“shut the fuck up and help me.” you snapped, making her scoff. she was touching herself on the other side of the line, laying on her bed, bitting down on her bottom lip and thinking about all the ways in which she was gonna fuck you after this. sex with you was always so fucking good… if only you weren’t the biggest headache with legs she had ever met…

“such a fucking brat. remember that you’re the one who can’t get off and needs help here.” you whimpered, making her chuckle. “shh, it’s okay baby, i’m gonna help you get what you want. you just play with that pretty little clit of yours and keep fucking your fingers, hm? i’ll make you cum.” you nodded, as if she could see you. you moaned when you hit your g spot. “that’s it. just like that… atta girl…” fuck. how much she wished she was right there. that she could see you. fuck you. “shit. you’re killing me.” she moaned, her fingers plunging inside her tight and warm walls. she sighed at the feeling and stretch, closing her eyes and focusing on your needy voice.

“abby, fuck, please…” you begged, finally breaking. you needed her to keep praising you like that. and she knew it.

“see? good girl… that wasn’t so hard, was it?” she smirked, and if you weren’t so lost in your pleasure, you would have tell her to fuck off. “add another finger baby. need you to be stretched and ready for my cock.” you followed her orders, moaning at the fullness.

“i’m close, fuck…” you warned her, focusing on hitting your g spot and rubbing your clit.

“yeah? you gonna cum, baby?” you whined, feeling the warmth and tightness of your orgasm on your stomach.

“abby, i’m cumming, i’m cumming…!” you babbled, finally feeling it, almost being able to grasp it. you were right there.

“cum for me, doll. be a good girl and cum for me.” she grunted.

you screamed as it hit you, your vision going white and your voice coming out all broken as you soaked your fingers and sheets. your needy whimpers made abby ruin her underwear. you sounded so fucking perfect it hurt. she praised you and guided you though it, helping you fuck every last drop of your cum out of your cunt.

“fuuuck…” she sighed, taking the words out of your mouth. “i’m coming over.”

-

a/n; 🤭

[inmyminditsreal]

I'll protect you

Fem!reader x spencer reid

Word count: 661

Summary: The BAU goes to a bar to unwind after a hard case. You get some unwanted attention to which Spencer immediately comes to your defense.

Everyone arrives at the bar, we pick a table close to the back so we can talk.

“I can’t believe it took us that long.” Emily states.

“Yeah, I mean- the husband. He was right under our noses the entire time.” Derek responds.

“At least we caught the guy.” you say, trying to lighten the mood “wanna go dance?” you ask.

Both JJ and Emily agree, so you walk up to the dancefloor and start swaying. You laugh at each others stupid dance moves and funny faces until,

“I have to go to the bathroom- I’ll be right back.” JJ says. Emily had already gone to buy us drinks, so it was just you. It’s fine, pretty crowded anyway. A man approaches you and asks,

“Oh come on- one drink ain’t gonna hurt you.” He starts and you reluctantly respond with,

“Hey there little lady, why don’t I buy you a drink?” You quickly reply with, “No, thanks though.”

“No, thank you.”

“I didn’t say that was an option.” He growls, moving closer. Suddenly, he grabs your ass. You're about to push him off when someone already does that for you. It's Spencer.

“Get your hands off her and leave her alone.” He blazes at the man.

“Woah woah woah, calm down- I was just having a little fun!” The man responds while winking at you.

“She said no, you didn’t listen so get the fuck out of here. Now.” He snarls at the man.

“Fuck you man! FUCK YOU!” The man shouts before barely walking to the bar in a straight line. JJ and Emily walk up after hearing the commotion and quickly run up to comfort you. Spencer was still following the man, I saw him show his badge, then the guy hurried off. You start to tear up. Spencer walks over to you and asks,

“I’m so sorry, are you okay?”

“Yea- it’s fine.” you reply while wrapping him into a big hug. He returns the favor, and you stay like this for a minute or two.

The three of them sit you down and explain the situation to the rest of the team. Everybody is pissed. Spencer offers to take you home, to which you agree.

In his car we start the drive, and he asks, “Are you really okay? You didn’t deserve any of that.” He continued, “I told the bartender about the guy. He said he’d make sure he never goes in the bar again.”

“Thank you, spence.” you reply.

“Answer my question, are you okay?” He asks.

“Not really- I just feel gross.” You answer.

“I’m so sorry- is there anything I can do?” He questions you carefully.

“This may be a bit much, but- would you mind staying the night with me?” You mutter back.

The last thing you want is to be alone.

“Of course.” He smiles back.

Back at my place, you walk up to your room and get ready for bed. Once you're ready, you grab Spencer and take him to the room.

“Do you have spare blankets and pillows?” He asks.

“For what?” you respond, confused.

“Well, you only have one bed so I’m assuming that I’m sleeping on the floor.” He murmurs back.

“Oh- it’s up to you. I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable. Thank you again for staying the night.” You tell him.

“Oh um, okay. No problem, I’d do this for you anytime.” He replies while smiling.

You smile back and thank him for standing up for you in the bar as well. He smiles and waves it off as nothing but a necessity.

He chooses to sleep in bed with you. He ends up laying on his back, arm stretched out. You're laying on that arm until he wraps it around you.

“Goodnight.” You whisper.

“Goodnight, just know I will always be here to protect you, no matter what. I love you.” He whispers back.

You couldn't be more grateful for him.

[starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies]

Officer Down | J.H.

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Summary: Jay takes a hit to the chest during a shootout and gives you quite the scare. Based on episode 6x2.

A/N: I finally wrote something!! (Shocking I know) it only took me 7 months but I’ve finally got a new fic for yall. I’m sorry for being so slow to write but the last 7 months have been ROUGH.

I’ve been wanting to write this fic forever and was finally inspired to finish it after rewatching the episode. I don’t really like how this turned out but that’s what happens after writers block I guess

Warnings: near death experiences, guns and shooting

Word Count: 637

-

This case had been difficult for the team, Jay getting hit his hardest with his dad being one of the victims on the fire. The longer the chase for the arsonist, the more you could see him spiraling. You expected it, all things considered. Jay may have said they didn’t have the best relationship, but it was still his father. What you didn’t expect was for Jay to disobey a direct order from Voight and go after the suspect on his own.

After you took his truck and two way, you thought he would be safe, far away from the action. So when you heard his call come in over the radio, your heart sank to your stomach.

“This is 5021 George. Emergency. Shots fired. Offender down, need an ambo. Lower Wacker and Columbus.”

As soon as you heard his location, you took off running, Kevin close behind. Rounding the corner, you saw Jay unmoving on the pavement, his side covered in blood.

“5021 Victor. Officer down. I repeat, officer down. Lower Wacker and Columbus. Get us an ambulance!” You rushed to Jay’s side, leaving Kevin to take care of the offender.

You tried to stay calm as you ripped open his shirt, panic threatening to override your training. You could see he was bleeding from his side, but you couldn’t tell what the damage was from the other bullets.

“Jay? Hey, talk to me.” Your voice wavered.

Jay was breathing heavily, looking at you with wide eyes. You pulled his vest away from his body, feeling under it for the bullet.

“It didn’t go through. It didn’t go through.” You pressed on the wound at his side with shaky hands. “You’re gonna be okay. It’s okay. Just breathe.”

-

You watched intently as the paramedics patched up Jay in the back of the ambulance. There were officers all around you, blocking off the scene and questioning the other members of the team, but you tuned it all out.

Once the paramedics were done treating him and he had gotten a thorough scolding from Voight, you made your way over.

“Hey.” You took a seat next to him. “You gonna be okay?”

Jay looked at you sheepishly. “Yeah, I’m okay. No serious damage, just a few stitches and some major bruising.”

“Good.”

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. I just couldn’t stop myself.” He said quietly.

You nodded lightly, giving him a small smile and patting his leg gently. “I know.”

The paramedic came back over and you used the interruption to excuse yourself. You could feel the aftermath of the situation setting in and you needed to get away from the scene.

You heard footsteps behind you and Kevin appeared at your side. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yep, I’m good. I’m fine.” You replied, unable to keep the emotion out of your voice.

Kevin put a hand on your arm, slowing you down and turning you towards him. “Woah, woah.” You couldn’t stop the tears from welling up in your eyes as you met his gaze. “Yeah, that’s the adrenaline wearing off. It’s okay.”

“I thought he was dead.” You choked out the words.

Kevin put his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close. “So did I.”

As the two of you made it back to the cars, he brought you in for a hug. You gripped his shirt tightly, embarrassed by your crying, but soaking in the comfort after the emotions of the past hour. You knew out of anyone, Kevin would never judge you for being human.

“I gotcha.” He rubbed your back comfortingly. “C’mon, Sarge said we’re done for the day. Jay’s in good hands. I’ll drive you home.”

You spared one last glance back towards Jay as you got into the car, only to find him looking right at you, his face etched with concern.

-

Writing Masterlist

[qrrieterisunnq]

Too Much - Trevor Zegras

trevor!zegras x fem!reader Summary: Y/n is so overwhelmed by everything happening in her life. One night she can’t keep it in, so she lets it out on the first person she has around herself, Trevor A/N: I don't really know what to say/text in here. Just enjoy this angst/fluff and happy rest of the day! requested: yes/no likes are good, reblogs are better <3 gif, not mine word count: 0,7K warning(s): angst, overwhelmed reader, yelling, protective boyfriend Trevor

masterlist | wip's

It’s too much.

Everything is just too much.

Your work, your boss, your parents, and your life.

Everything is just so much on you.

You feel like the weight of the world is lying on your shoulders. If you screw something up everything is just gonna fall apart and you’ll be responsible for it.

With a sigh, you straighten yourself and let out a groan when your back cracks, relief spreading through your muscles. Standing up from your sitting position, you walk over to your room for the book you’ve been reading for the past few days.

You sat back on the couch, getting comfy under the blanket Trevor gave you for your third anniversary, last year. Sighing you let the book pull you into the plot, enjoying the presence of the characters in the book.

Even though you are so drawn into the plot, a voice pulls you out of it, an annoyed groan leaving your lips.

“I’m home!” Trevor yells from the hall announcing his arrival. You say nothing as you continue to read trying to ignore his presence. Not that you are unpleased he’s home, but right now, you need your peace and silence. “My legs are hurting! Couch had us do twenty laps and I’m so tired.” He complains making you roll your eyes. He sits down next to you, peaking from behind your shoulder on what are you reading.

“What?” you snap at him lightly, looking at him with bored eyes.

“Woah! Nothing just looking at what are you reading,” he raises his hands in the air. “No need to be so snappy.” he chuckles shaking his head as he pats your tight.

“I'm not snappy.” you look at him before your attention is back on your book.

Trevor's brows furrow in a thin line at his girl's behavior. He notices the little changes a few days ago, but he tells himself it's because of the big project she's been working on. But now, after the project was done, and she's still like this, he doesn’t know the cause.

“What’s going on babes?” he takes the book in his hands and places it next to him, earning your full attention. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Like what?” you snap at him, standing from your seat when you feel his hand touching your tight. “I’m acting the same, that’s the problem. I’m always the same person!” You shout, throwing your arms in the air. ”I’m always the one who does a slave for everyone around her. My parents, my boss, everyone.” You are heavy breathing with your hands on your hips.

“You aren’t a slave, y/n,” Trevor whispers, a small smile playing on his lips when he walks over to her. He places his hands on her hips, pulling her closer to him. “You are an amazing human. Yeah maybe, sometimes, you are too nice to some people, but you are not a slave,” with a sigh, he cups her cheek and forces her to look him in the eyes. “I may not know what is going on now, but I know you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, my love.” He says with a smile playing on his lips. You rest your head on his chest, tears now sliding down your cheeks from the overwhelming stress that I slowly dripping down your shoulders.

“I am so sorry, that I snapped at you like that.” You cry out, wrapping your hands around his torso as you snuggle closer into him, breathing in his scent.

“That’s completely okay love, I know how it is when there is too much to hold in. You had to let it out. But next time, don’t hold it in for too long. I’m here to communicate with and help you, so use me as much as you want.” Trevor tickles your sides, trying to cheer you up, which he does when you giggle in his chest.

“I will, I promise,” you pull away from him, wiping away the tears and taking a deep breath. “And I’m really sorry. It’s just too much on me and I don’t know what to do first.”

“I get it, I have these times too,” He chuckles, walks over to his bag, and pulls out his hoodie as he tosses it on her. “Put it on.”

“Thank you.” You grin at him, slipping into the hoodie.

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Catching up! So today we’re mostly having replies related to all the stuff we posted recently.

Starting with the most important question.

Anonymous asked:

Wait, Idia got called a brocon? When?

He did! Grim called him a brocon in 5-13 right after we saw Ortho for the first time :3 (timestamp on 5:42 just in case)

Anonymous asked:

How does that smoke beer donut taste?

(this is about this drawing)

Very smoky! And like something Gidel isn’t supposed to eat…

Anonymous asked:

I wanna see some of your traditional art

Actually, Anon, you’re looking at it…

The majority of things that we post daily was originally drawn traditionally, and then coloured digitally. I really want to do more art that is 100% traditional, but never get a chance to for a bunch of reasons :(

Anonymous asked:

I love your analysis holy cow! see its because of Book 5 that i cant stop seeing Vil and Rook as mom and dad. i love this ship mind you, (they are my comfort ship and it gives me life whenever you draw them you beautiful soul) but even if some didnt see them as a romantic couple--in my opinion they still have that VIBE you know? Like whenever they're there you just cant help but feel like BRO THEY WOULD BEAT UP YOUR BULLIES AND THEN GROUND YOU AND SEND YOU TO YOUR ROOM FOR FIGHTING IN THE FIRST PLACE LOL is it just a me feeling?

(this is related to this post)

Thank you for your kind words, Anon! I am very happy you enjoyed the analysis and that you like my RookVil art <3

Yeah, I think these two being very parental is pretty obvious and pretty intentional! All jokes aside, Pomefiore trio really feels like it was written in a way that they would read as a family. We don’t usually like this trope because characters playing house could get pretty boring, and a lot of family-related tropes don’t resonate with us at all. So I am surprised to this day that we love Pomefiore’s vibes so much. I’m guessing that it’s because of how unusual of a family they are, how Epel actually fights with Vil a lot, and how he grows from being a little brat to being a little brat that is eager to grow and excited to show his senpais his new cool magic tricks, while they tease him but still are very proud and excited for him. Like, they’re strict and would smack him (well, Vil would) but they also want him to grow. Woah, that sounds way too wholesome ew lol

Anyways! Even if we exclude Epel, and this is another thing I’ve talked about a lot, I genuinely feel like Rook and Vil were intentionally written as a couple that has been together for quite some time, at least coding-wise. There are just too many tropes and situations that they have that are usually used for couples… Alright I’ll stop myself or I’ll rant about them again even though I just did a couple of weeks ago.

blackbutlerfandomnerddomain asked:

I just love baby Vil so much, makes me wonder what happened

(this is about this drawing)

Adults with shitty opinions + kids that can’t separate reality from fiction happened… truly, two of the worst things that could happen to a possible friendship between actors.

A couple of asks about this drawing:

Anonymous asked:

Oh oh! I saw! Che'nya art! We (smiley kitty fans) are starving! Thank you for the food! It is delicious! May we have another plate, please?

Poor smiley kitty fans! :( I am so sorry you’re starving! Please enjoy your food.

Unfortunately I don’t have any more smiley catfood for you…….. yet.

Anonymous asked:

*see Chenya *

*starts biting at the bars of my containment*

Better question for him..... What that tongue do??? 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

What that tongue doesn’t do, Anon? Wink

Anonymous asked:

Question. How much of Riddle's body do you think Che'nya would lick to clean him?

In theory, he’d probably get bored pretty quickly, but I kind of want him to just keep licking… Riddle thought it would be over 15 minutes ago, but Che’nya’s still licking… The moment he would be done with his face, ears and head (cat saliva in Riddle’s hair…), Riddle would realise that Che’nya is determined to lick him all over. Time to call Trey…

blackbutlerfandomnerddomain asked:

Riddle gets licked my Chenya often in my lil delulu ass world

Sometimes Che’nya randomly appears, licks his cheek and disappears again.

Anonymous asked:

Bro I gotta know, what do the tweel's dick(s) look like on their merform? I was scrolling on ur bluesky and saw this one with jade and idia and something between idia's legs and I was like "is that his dick?" If so DAYUM! May that bussy rest in peace

Love your art and speedpaints btw💗

Thank you for enjoying my art and especially my speedpaints! I am very happy to hear that <3

Hehe I’m glad you liked that one! I had a lot of fun with that piece.

I feel like I draw merpeen differently every single time lol but I love the design we came up with for that Jade/Idia drawing, and in fact I do have a post in which I talk about how it probably works! There aren’t any pictures there, but there are some interesting thoughts…

[nolita-fairytale]

comfort & chaos | carmy berzatto x fem!reader | chapter three: heat waves

summary: after a bad date, you find yourself on carmy's doorstep. (the five times carmen berzatto fell in love with you a little and the one time he finally told you)

warnings: so much pining you may be entitled to compensation after reading this, swearing, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns, drinking & smoking, suggestive language, mentions of covid-19, eventual smut.

word count: 3.5k

listen to: i like me better - lauv | ceilings - lizzy mcalpine | heat waves - glass animals (i'm sorry but this song invented sexual tension. full stop.) better than i know myself - del water gap

read: chapter two

“sometimes all I think about is you, late nights in the middle of june…” (heat waves – glass animals)

*

June 2021

You: Hey, I’m in your neighborhood. You around?

Carmy: Yeah, what’s up?

You: Want some company?

Carmy: 👍

You: Heading your way.

Carmy: It started raining. Be careful.

You: I noticed. Thanks, dad. 

Carmy: 🙄

You’re not ready to go home yet as you head towards Carmy’s apartment. You’re not sure why you thought it was a good idea to download a dating app the other week… and you’re trying your best not to read into the fact that your first thought was to reach out to Carmy. Hesitant to tell him, you figure you’ll just surprise him by showing up like this – all dressed up. 

It’s not like he’s your boyfriend. He probably won’t even notice, you think to yourself. 

You hope he just doesn’t say anything – so that you don’t have to tell him you were on a date – but as soon as the torrential downpour starts, there’s no way he won’t say anything. You're only a block and a half away, so you decide to power through, storm be damned. 

“Woah,” he says, as soon as he opens the door.

“‘Looks like you got caught in the rain’ woah, or…like a ‘you look overdressed’ kinda woah?” you ask back, your hair beginning to drip on the carpet. 

“Both?” he offers up, trying his best to make it seem like he’s not checking you out. “You’re uh… fancy.”

“Yeah…” you trail off, not sure how much you’re going to reveal. It’s just not something you’ve really talked about yet and you’re ambivalent about how he may react. Hell, you’re ambivalent about how you feel about it too. 

But Carmy hasn’t invited you in yet either, blocking your pathway as he tries not to make it blatantly obvious that he’s gawking at you. “I uh… sort of had a date.”

“Oh,” he mutters, before stepping aside to invite you in. 

He takes a beat, watching you carefully as you enter his apartment. 

“How’d it go?” he asks, hesitantly.

“Uh… not great,” you admit, with a shrug. “But I’m not sure what I expected either. Can I borrow some clothes?”

“Oh! Yeah sure,” he nods, hurrying into his bedroom. 

Carmy mentally scolds himself for even asking. Would you really be here on his doorstep if it had gone well? He knows the answer, but what feels unfamiliar is the tight feeling that’s lodged itself in his chest. 

He wonders when you started dating. It’s not like you’d said anything about it to him. It’s not like you owed it to him to say anything either. Were you on those apps he couldn’t seem to wrap his head around? Or maybe one of those investment banker fuckos that had come into the restaurant a few weeks ago. He’d been this close to burning the whole place down when he noticed one of them practically undressing you with their eyes as you’d walked by from your visit with another table.

Carmy returns to you with a pair of sweatpants and one of his pristine white t-shirts, his eyes fixed on you as you remove your shoes. The kitchen overhead is the only light that’s on, leaving most of the apartment lit only by the TV. You can see a few cigarette butts that have been aimlessly thrown across the ashtray he keeps on his coffee table, and you know he’s been smoking tonight. 

“Pasta Grannies?” is all you ask, gesturing towards the TV. 

“Yeah,” he nods. It’s as if he’s just remembered that he’s holding a dry pair of clothes for you, a look of panic plastered on his face. “Shit. I forgot. Here.”

“Thanks, Carm,” you say, taking them and disappearing into the bathroom for a quick change. 

You examine your reflection in the mirror as you wring the excess water from your hair right into the sink. You take your time, tying your hair into a bun over the top of your head, immediately feeling at ease now that you’re here with him. While most of your makeup is gone, swept away by the rain, you feel much more like yourself in a pair of Carmy’s sweatpants that you ever felt in a fancy dress on that date. You hang your very wet dress over the shower curtain rod in Carmy’s bathroom to dry, before opening the door to rejoin him in the living room. 

Carmy’s returned to the couch, his feet kicked up on the outside of the couch as he stretches out across it. 

“Much better,” you comment, making your way towards him. 

You settle into the couch with Carmy, curled up apart on opposite sides of the couch. It’s a comfortable pattern you’ve fallen into: hanging out, watching movies till 3 am while he smokes a few cigarettes to unwind from the day. You like this rhythm. And you like that it’s with him. 

As another episode of Pasta Grannies begins, Carmy’s mind continues to race. He’s wracking his brain for any excuse to bring it up again – this whole, you dating thing. 

He searches your face for any kind of in. He’s not sure what he’s looking for: a furrowed brow, a sigh of frustration, a look of dissatisfaction? Something he can ask about so that you’ll tell him more about your night. But as he examines you closely, trying his best to get a read on you, iit seems as if you’ve forgotten all about it, comfortably curled up on his shitty $50 dollar couch that he’d found at Goodwill. 

“So… what was so bad about this date?” he finally manages to get out, surprising you. 

You shrug, carelessly, “Men suck.”

Your answer makes him chuckle as he agrees with a, “Yeah, we do.”

You’re honestly surprised that he’s asking. You and Carmy had never really talked about dating – save for a few stories about your exes here and there. You got the impression that Carmy hadn’t dated a lot at all, nor did he seem all that interested in dating. At least that’s what you’ve figured, considering you spend all of your time together and he’s not once tried to make a move. 

“Uh…” you start, figuring you’ll elaborate since he’s taken such an interest. “Just… not great conversationalist. The guy spent half the night trying to convince me that cryptocurrency was worth investing in and uh… I don’t know. Just wasn’t there for me, I guess.”

“What?”

“You know… that spark, I guess.”

And he does. He feels it every single time you look at him with your ‘you’re totally pissing me off and I hate how endearing it is’ look. He feels it on the rare occasion that he makes you laugh. Every time he makes you a new dish he’s working on and you tell him how annoying it is that he’s this damn good.

“Yeah, no I uh-. Sounds like it’d be important,” he offers up, suddenly feeling out of his league. It’s not like he can commiserate or agree with you from experience. 

“You uh… wanna watch something else?” you ask him, quickly changing the subject. 

“Sure, yeah,” he replies, tossing you the remote. 

“Thank you,” you smile at him as you take it. 

You begin scrolling through his smart TV’s apps, searching for a movie to put on in the background. The sounds of the rain falling harder and harder against his apartment windows fill his ears since nothing is playing in the background just yet. He doesn’t remember hearing about a storm, but it must’ve come on unexpectedly. 

Carmy watches you as you explore your options, and he feels like his heart is going to explode out of his chest at the thought of some asshat sitting here on this couch with you – someone that’s not him. He swallows, suddenly aware that he’s clenching his fist. He relaxes it, beginning to fidget with a spare key chain that lays on the coffee table. 

“You end up calling your brother?” you question, in reference to the last conversation you’d had about his Mikey. 

You’d encouraged him to call, even though it seemed like Michael had been in touch lately. 

“Yeah,” he sighs, disappointedly. “Didn’t pick up.”

“Sorry,” you sympathize, giving him an apologetic smile. 

You decide on the first John Wick film when you learn that Carmy’s never seen it. You insist that it’s a classic and he tells you something along the lines of ‘that’s something my cousin would say.’ As the movie rolls on, you stretch your legs out, curling them in towards the back of the couch, while Carmy relaxes, taking up the space of the couch on the outside of you. 

“I can’t believe you like this!” Carmy exclaims, gesturing towards the graphic depiction of violence on the TV. You watch Michael Nyqvist’s character shoot Willem Dafoe’s character multiple times, completely unphased, as he searches your face for any kind of emotional reaction. 

“What?! Being a woman in a male dominated industry… I’ve found that watching action movies brings a sort of… catharsis to me,” you defend yourself playfully. 

“So what you’re saying is… I’m sitting across from a psychopath?” he jokes, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s great.”

“Yeah,” you reply, matter of factly. 

Carmy laughs dryly, his eyes flickering back to you. Your face, lit only by the dim cool hues of the television screen, seems more beautiful than ever. He wonders where the hell that thought came from, brushing it off like it’s nothing. Taking a more teasing tone, he lifts his head to ask:

“And how many times have you fantasized about doing that to me?” 

You smirk, shaking your head as you reply, “You don’t want to know.”

He rolls his eyes playfully, letting out the smallest chuckle, before settling back into his spot on the couch. You laugh once again, enjoying this way more than your fancy dinner date. 

You’re not sure how you’ve both managed to fall asleep in the midst of an action movie, but when you finally come to, you’re halfway through the second John Wick film and Carmy’s fast asleep. Your phone’s managed to fall on the floor, and you have to lean over Carmy’s legs to grab it.

“Shit what time is it?” he stirs, peeking an eye open as you lean over his feet, reaching for your phone. He finds the TV remote right next to him, hitting the pause button. 

“Uh… 2 am,” you answer, sleepily, beginning to sit up. “I should probably go.”

“No, I’m not gonna make you uh-… you wanna take the bed?” he asks, mirroring your body language and sitting up with you too.

“Oh! No, it’s okay. I’m comfy right here,” you reply, returning to your spot on the couch.

“You sure?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” you reassure him. 

“Okay uh…” he says, making his way up to his feet. “... let me get you a pillow and a blanket.”

“Thanks.”

It’s not that you wouldn’t take the bed, but you’d hate to kick him out of his own bed. And truthfully? You can’t stand the fact that he doesn’t even have a bed frame. 

That’s right.

The man sleeps on a mattress on the floor. 

As Carmy returns to you, pillow and thick comforter in hand, the only sounds that fill the room are the storm outside. You watch as he gently places the pillow down on the couch for you, and you thank him as you take the comforter, laying it across the couch. 

The sounds of a low rumble of thunder fill your ears and you can feel the way the sound reverberates off of Carmy’s apartment.

“You sure you don’t want to take the bed?” Carmy asks you, running a tattooed hand through his messy curls. 

“I’m sure,” you reply confidently. 

“Okay,” he resigns himself. “Need anything else?”

Just you. 

“No, Goodnight, Carmy,” you say, with a soft smile on your face. 

“Goodnight,” he replies, with the slightest wave. 

Carmy leaves you for his bedroom, closing the door behind him. You slide underneath the thick comforter he’s given you, closing your eyes in an attempt to lure yourself back into another slumber. 

But it’s not so easy to fall asleep this time. 

It’s funny… thinking about Carmy being in the next room. It’s not like you hadn’t fallen asleep together on the couch before. In fact, you’d napped on the couch with each other multiple times. And nothing had ever happened. You’d just slept. You wonder if you should’ve taken the bed. Should’ve told him to grow up and that you were both adults who could sleep in the same bed together without things getting weird. Unless… 

All of a sudden, your mind is invaded with flashes of a fantasy: your fingers tangled in his perfect curls, his lips on yours, the way his body would feel on top of yours as you writhe underneath him… 

Holy fuck. What are you thinking?! You and Carmy are just friends. Carmy doesn’t feel that way about you and you don’t feel that way about him, you think to yourself, snapping yourself out of the vision.

You go over the facts in your head, in an attempt to calm yourself down. You’ve been here before. He’s never made a move on you. You’ve never made a move on him.

You’re just friends. 

Maybe you just need a cold glass of water… or a cold shower… 

As you sit up to get a glass of water, you let out the smallest gasp as Carmy’s bedroom door swings open. He stands there, staring at you with unwavering eye contact – one of those long languid looks that used to think meant he hated you. 

For a moment, then tension is thick. You hear another crack of thunder that shakes the floor as a bright flash of lightning from outside electrifies every molecule inside of his apartment. If anything were to happen between the two of you, it had to be now, right?

“Water,” is all he says. 

“What?” you ask, trying your best to hide your surprise that that’s all he said. 

“I-, I forgot water,” he stammers out, beelining for the kitchen. “Do you want some?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you reply as you rise to your feet.

You follow him into the kitchen area, maintaining your distance as you watch him fill up two glasses of water. You’re not sure what’s come over you tonight, but there’s something different inside of you. As he hands you the glass of water he’s filled for you, you could swear he gives you the most wistful look you’ve ever seen, making it impossible not to get lost in how blue his eyes are. 

“You okay?” he asks you when you don’t take the glass of water.  

Calm down, you think to yourself. 

“Yeah, sorry. Just tired,” you whisper, finally taking the glass from him. 

And just when you think this is all in your head and that Carmy’s going to return to his bedroom with a second thought about it, he doesn’t. He just stands there in the middle of the kitchen with you. He doesn’t take a sip of his water. He stays, his eyes fixed on you as the storm outside rages on, another crack of thunder ricocheting through the apartment.

It’s much louder this time – the loud booms and cracks of thunder alternating with brilliant flashes of lightning. 

Carmy opens his mouth to say something as the room is temporarily lit by another flash, but he can’t figure out what to say either. It’s just the two of you, holding glasses of water in your hands, trying your fucking best not to drop them as you stare at each other. He doesn’t know what he’d even say to you:

You’re irresistible when you wear my clothes. 

I’m holding onto this glass of water so tightly it may shatter. 

I think I might love you.

But he doesn’t say anything.

Doesn’t do anything. 

He doesn’t take a step towards you and you don’t either. 

You hope he can’t hear the shaking in your voice as you say, “Goodnight, Carmy. And uh, thanks. For the water.”

“Yeah,” he whispers, your words snapping him out of his head. 

“Goodnight.”

*

As you wake the next morning, you can’t figure out what the hell had gotten into you last night. You almost crossed the line with him – with Carmy, with your best friend – threatening everything you’ve built together. You’re relieved that you didn’t, that neither of you said anything, because the idea of this ending scares the hell out of you. 

“How’d you sleep?” Carmy asks as he comes out of his bedroom, his curls unruly and all kinds of wild.

In the light of day, you know it would’ve been a stupid idea – what could’ve happened seeming more and more preposterous the longer you think about it. 

“Not great, but I’ve had worse,” you answer honestly. 

“Should’ve taken the bed,” he points out, an ‘I told you so’ on the tip of his tongue. 

“Carmy,” you sigh, unwillingly. 

“Hm?” 

“Nothing,” you mutter with a shake of your head. 

“No, what’s up?” he asks you, taking a few steps toward you. He’s not tall, but he towers over you as you remain seated on his couch. You rise to your feet so that you have a little ground to stand on as you muster up the courage to finally tell him. 

“You need to get a bed frame. You’re a grown ass adult,” you demand, eliciting another dry laugh from him. You take a step towards him, closing some of the distance between the two of you. “And when that happens… I’ll take the bed.”

He shakes his head. He knows you’re right, and he can’t believe it’s taken this long for you to tell him. 

“Heard, chef.”

It’s another few weeks before you let yourself go over to Carmy’s – partially because you like hanging out your place with him more, and partially because you’re terrified that whatever juju put those thoughts in your head that night may take you over again. But it doesn’t, and you’re more than pleasantly surprised to see that he’s purchased a bed frame. It’s nothing fancy – just bed slats and risers – but it’s a bed frame nonetheless. 

“You ready?” Carmy asks you, as he’s just finished putting his shoes on. 

“Yeah,” you reply, slipping off your jacket. 

“There’s usually a ton of a/c in the shop. You might get cold?” he suggests. 

The sight of your bare shoulders in the tank top you’re wearing causes his brain to short circuit for a second. 

“Oh I know, but I like yours more,” you reply, reaching for one of his denim jackets that hangs on the coat hook. 

He smiles, watching you slip into the jacket.

His jacket.

The one he let you borrow you the night he got promoted to CDC.

“Now I’m ready. What’re you gonna get by the way?” you ask curiously, in reference to the tattoo appointment you’re accompanying him to. 

“Uh… was thinking like… a hand with a chef’s knife going through it. You know. On my hand,” he shares with you. 

“You’re so weird,” you blurt out, even though you find it the most endearing.

He is. And yet, you’ve stuck around so far. 

“Yeah, I am,” he chuckles to himself. 

*

“He literally bought a bed for you!” Liz exclaims enthusiastically, one night after work. 

“For himself,” you correct her in hushed tones, asking her to lower her voice. 

“Uh no… for you. Because you told him to. And because he wants to get you in it… naked,” she replies. She lets out a frustrated groan before turning to you. “You know what me and Maya call you?”

“What?” you ask, bracing for whatever nickname she’s about to share with you. 

“The Queen of Denial,” she says. 

“What!?” you exclaim this time, defensively. 

Liz chooses to ignore your response, knowing that your defensiveness comes from the fact that you know she’s right. 

“Why are you going out on these dates with guys you don’t even like when Carmy is right there?” she asks you, pointing out the obvious. 

“I-, I don’t know. I don’t get the sense that he’s interested in dating… anyone,” you admit, your voice softer this time. 

“Well, have you asked him?” she states, as if she already knows the answer. 

“We talked about it once,” you hesitate. 

“Bullshit! The conversation about what Nate said doesn’t count!” she pushes you. 

You sigh. There’s so much fear for you here: fear of losing him as your friend, fear of making yourself look like a fool, fear of letting Carmy love you. 

Because it just feels safer not to acknowledge any of these things.

“I don’t know,” you admit, quietly. “After my last relationship I just… I don’t know if I'm ready, I guess. And then pandemic happened and it was a much welcomed break from dating. I didn’t expect… I didn’t think Carmy and I would get this close. I don’t want to fuck up what we have right now, you know? Dating other people feels like… lower stakes.”

Liz takes a moment to let you hear what you’ve just said, but with an unwavering determination, she’s not letting you off the hook. 

“Sweetie, I love you. And I know you don’t want to get hurt again. But one of these days you are going to have to own up to what’s really going on between the two of you. Sooner rather than later. For all of our sakes,” she pleads.

She’s right. 

You know she’s right. 

But you’d also like getting to pretend, even for a little while. 

Because pretending is easy… uncomplicated… and right now, it seems to work for both you and Carmy. 

Fuck, you were fucked.

read chapter four

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