#oh god now she’s snoring

[jack-gourdon]

Jrwi episode 98 spoilers

I’m having totally normal late night thoughts about this episode.

I just imagine as Gillion is laying on this table, trying with all his power to stay awake, in a fully delirious ramble, constantly asking May where Chip and Jay are as she can only just reassure him that they’re coming. Not because he’s concerned for himself, but in his state completely forgot they left to go save his life, and that he’s worried for their well being. Until the very end, putting everyone else’s in front of his own needs. And as the remaining of his strength begins to leave him, where his vision starts to fade, his hearing goes quiet, and his breathing slows, tears pool from the corners of his eyes and they trail down the side of his face as he can do nothing but sink into this abyss, so tired. He doesn’t fear his death, but he mourns that it’s happening, that Chip or Jay aren’t here to see him off. But maybe it’s better for them to not see him in his final moments.

And in this darkness, he can do nothing but sink further and further down, suffocating. Until there’s this golden light that appears from above, and it grows brighter until it engulfs him into it.

His eyes open. And he’s on the ship, Chip was telling Ollie about these cookies filled with raspberry filling, Jay was navigating the ship and besides her sat this shirt round grey creature with a puffy striped tail, it’s peaceful as they sailed along the waves. It feels like he can breath again, the pain on his chest gone, this ever looming dread hanging over him is gone. This was nothing more than a dream, but it would be a calm one.

[falling-endlessly]

Boomerang (part 2)

Vox x Female!Ex!Overlord!Reader

Summary: After being faced with a dilemma, Vox tries a new approach to get you back. All hell breaks loose.

<—Part 1 Chapter Index Part 3—>

"You're shitting me right now," Velvette's eye twitched as she stared at the snoring TV demon sprawled across your bed. "For fuck's sake, what am I? A babysitter?"

"At least he's knocked out," you crossed your arms, raising a brow. "You won't have to listen him try and tell you that he lost his hat, only to realize it was on his head the whole time, and then start crying because he forgot he owned such a cool hat."

Velvette smacked her forehead audibly, dragging the hand down her face. "Jesus Christ," she hissed under her breath, before glaring at you in irritation. "You know, none of this would have happened if you hadn't left, right?"

"Vel," you said tiredly, rubbing your temples.

"Do you know how fucking annoying it is to hear him bitch all goddamn day about you?" She growled, waving her hands around aggressively. "I'm this close," she held her fingers a millimeter apart. "To pouring water all over his monitors. This. Close."

"Vel—"

"And then there's Valentino, who's also in a fucking mood. You know what? Forget about the water. I'm going to shoot both of them in the—"

"Velvette!" You raised your voice, making her grit her teeth. "I'm not coming back. He made his choice," you glanced at the demon in question, currently drooling all over your pillow. "It's not my problem anymore."

"Is that what you think?" She snapped, crossing her arms. "That you can just, what, leave your shit in a mess and walk out? Sorry to burst your bubble bitch, but you aren't fucking Cinderella. Things aren't just going to magically work out if you hide from them."

"I'm not hiding—"

"Bullshit!" She growled.

Your jaw set tightly as you both stood in a tense silence, glaring at each other.

After a few seconds, you sighed, shaking your head. "He already knows what he has to do if he wants to fix this," you said firmly. "I'm not going to change my mind."

Velvette pressed her lips together, before letting out an irritated breath. "Always fucking cleaning up everyone else's messes," she muttered angrily under her breath as she roughly hoisted Vox's limp body over her shoulder. "I'm going to kill him. Pathetic piece of shit—keep up a good image my ass."

She was almost out of the window when you called out, "Vel."

Velvette turned to give you an annoyed what now look over her shoulder, scowling impatiently.

"Thanks," you said sincerely.

She didn't answer you, instead turning and vaulting herself out of the window, disappearing from sight.

****

Vox woke up feeling like his screen was being forcibly bent in half. "What the ungodly fuck?" he whimpered, grabbing fistfuls of his sweaty bed sheets as he tried to control his breathing.

His stomach roiled ominously, making him gag. "Nope, nope. Not here," he stumbled out of bed, staggering to his attached bathroom like a desperate zombie and nearly running face first into the wall.

Vox dropped to his knees, flipping open the toilet lid and shooting out an unholy amount of chunks.

"What the—ugh, holy shit!" Velvette coughed from the doorway, shielding her face. "God, that smells worse than that skit when Angel got shat on."

Fuck you, he wanted to say. What the fuck are you doing in my bathroom?

But instead what came out was: "FUghhhuckk!"

Velvette watched him, unimpressed and disgusted. "You're an idiot."

"Not. Helping." Vox growled miserably, screen flickering as he gripped the edges of the toilet bowl.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Velvette jeered unsympathetically. "Who dragged your pathetic drunk ass back here last night? Oh, that's right!" She snapped her fingers in a mock eureka! moment. "I did. How about a little gratitude?"

Vox lifted a weak, trembling hand and flipped her off.

Velvette rolled her eyes. "Ungrateful bitch," she muttered under her breath.

Vox heaved loudly into the toilet, making her cringe. Gross. She grabbed the hand towel off of the rack, before throwing it at his head. It landed on the top of his monitor, hanging off the corner, before he grabbed it and sluggishly wiped his mouth. "I th-think I'm sh-short circuiting," he groaned, gripping his head in pain.

"You'll be fine," Velvette closed her eyes in frustration, but internally her thoughts took a different turn. She hadn't seen Vox this fucked up in ages. Val maybe. But not Vox. He cared way too much about his public image. This erratic behavior was very, very unlike him, and it was starting to become...concerning.

"What happened?" Vox coughed, leaning his monitor weakly against his forearms. The last thing he remembered was the fight with Val, and then—a garden...? The hell?

"Well, apparently, your dumbass thought it was a good idea to pay Y/n a visit—" Vox froze at the sound of your name "—to personally deliver her flowers at three in the morning. Then you cried about your stupid hat, passed out in her room, and she called me to pick you up like an incompetent child. The end."

By the end of her rant, Vox's expression looked even more pained, if that was even possible. "Shitttt," he moaned, curling in on himself. "Fuck. Shit. Fuck."

He looked so pathetic and distraught that Velvette almost felt bad for him. Almost.

For a long moment, the only sounds in the room were Vox's labored breaths and Velvette's judgmental stare. The silence was starting to border on stifling when Vox finally broke it.

"Did she like it?" He asked quietly.

"What?" Velvette scowled, crossing her arms.

"The roses," he continued, making her raise a brow. So he did remember buying the flowers then, she never told him what kind they were. "Did she like them?"

She was about to dismiss it when a sudden memory struck her, making her pause. "She kept them. In a vase on her night stand."

Vox slowly lifted his head, a warmth (not bile this time) blooming in his chest. You kept them. Even though he'd made a fool out of himself and probably ruined your night. And you didn't kick him out, either.

You still care, he realized, with a fragile, growing hope.

And that meant—he had a chance. Not baseless hope this time, an actual, legitimate chance to win you back. A slow, goofy grin started to climb his face.

"What—what the fuck? What's with the idiotic look on your face?" Velvette cringed away, disturbed. Then realization hit her as her eyes rolled skyward. "You're going to do something incredibly stupid, aren't you?"

"Maybe," he grinned, before another bout of nausea hit him, making him retch violently into the bowl.

"Idiot," Velvette reiterated.

****

"Oh, hell no," you heard Vaggie say, making you glance up. The moth demon looked incredibly hostile, spear pointed at whoever was at the door.

Concerned, you lifted from the lounge chair you were seated in, taking a few steps towards them, only for a firm hand to land on your shoulder.

"Toots," Angel Dust laughed nervously, moving to block the scene with his body. "Maybe you should let the others sort this one out, yeah?"

"Angel, I know I don't look like much, but I'm an overlord," you raised a brow, peeling his hand off of your shoulder with ease. "I can probably help."

"Shit! Wait, you're not going to like this," Angel groaned under his breath, but it was too late. You'd already seen him.

Vox caught your eye, a charming smile quirking his mouth. "Hey, doll."

Your fists curled by your sides, eyes flashing dangerously as you started to dematerialize, glowing green code dancing along your skin. You glitched out, growing substantially in stature as your mouth distended horrifically.

"Ohhh shit," Angel cursed, taking cover behind the bar counter.

"What's wrong?" Charlie's confused voice came from the stairwell, only to gasp at your demonic form, glitching horribly as your voice raged like gravelly static. It almost sounded like there was another, deeper voice speaking in tandem with yours.

"Woah!" She bolted to the scene, catching sight of a pale Vox, shocked Vaggie, and gaping Niffty. Husk, Pentious and Angel had done the smart thing and taken cover behind the bar.

"Y/n," she smiled placatingly, raising her hands in a show of non-aggression. "What's going on?"

"Gonna kill him," you spat, making everyone wince. "Can't have one goddamn moment to myself without this fucker appearing like a fucking genital wart—"

 "Hey," Vox laughed nervously. "I'm not here for any of that, I promise. Just—sweetheart—could you maybe not hover over me like that—"

"O-kay Y/n," Charlie stepped between the two of you. "Maybe just calm down, take a few deep breaths, and let's hear him out."

"Charlie, he blew up the hotel two days ago," Vaggie hissed through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, well, so did Pentious," Charlie raised a brow, wincing at said demon's faint protest.

"Pentious blew a hole in the wall," Vaggie argued. "This guy blew up half of the building!"

"Charlie!" Angel yelled, voice strained. "Do something before we all die!"

"Alastor's going to kill him," Niffty said cheerfully.

"I'll kill him first."

"Guys—" Charlie pleaded.

"I'm here for redemption!" Vox's voice cut through the air, making everyone freeze. It even shocked you out of your demonic form, the glowing code disappearing as you shrunk to normal proportions.

"You what?" you snapped.

"I want to...make things right," he glanced at you, making you grit your teeth and turn away. "I'm not here to cause trouble I swear—"

The door slammed in his face, cutting him off.

"Charlie," Alastor grinned, finally pulled from wherever the hell he'd fucked off to in his free time. "Tell me you're not thinking of letting this mongrel stay, are you?"

"What is this?" Vaggie hissed, dropping her head in her hands. "Overlord central?"

Charlie looked down, pursing her lips. "Well, it would be wrong of us to refuse anyone. It is open to everyone, after all."

"Think of Y/n!" Alastor said desperately, smile twitching as he clasped his hands on your shoulders, holding you out like some sort of charity case. You gave him an unimpressed look. "It's obvious he's only here to harass her!"

"And what were you here for again?" Charlie raised a brow. "To see demons trip and tumble down into the fiery pit of failure," she deepened her voice to imitate his, making him let out a screech of radio feedback.

"Look, I appreciate the concern, but I can take care of myself," you said, disgruntled as you shrugged off Alastor's uncomfortably tightening grip. "Charlie, do what you want. But I can't promise I won't kill him."

You were starting to accept the fact that there was nowhere in hell you could possibly go to escape your ex if he didn't wish it. That didn’t mean you wouldn’t put up a fight, though.

"Oh fuck," Angel dragged a hand down in face. He already knew what Charlie was going to decide. "Shoulda fuckin' stayed over with Cherri."

Charlie took a deep breath, and despite everyone's silent pleas, reached for the door handle and twisted it open. Vox perked up, turning towards her attentively.

"Welcome to Hazbin Hotel!" She attempted an awkward, welcoming smile.

****

<—Part 1 Chapter Index Part 3—>

Taglist: @pooplyface1423 @spookysisters @that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main @neito327 @hxzbinwrites @coleisyn @bababahannah

[gotham-daydreams]

Not Tonight

[Platonic! Yandere! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]

[Warnings: Mentions of Neglect, Reader generally not having a good time.]

(Not proofread. Not too much Yandere shown. Mostly angst with Reader. Set up(?))

2nd chapter here. Chapter 3 Pt. 1, Pt. 2. [Series Masterlist]

๑۩۞۩๑————————————————————๑۩۞۩๑

How many times have you heard them say that? How many times have you tried to do something with them, to share your passion — or even just have some coffee with them, only to hear them say that phrase time and time again.

"Not tonight."

Well, what if you didn't ask them during the night? What if you asked them in the afternoon, or just when they were already up and about?

"Sorry! I can't right now, patrol reeeally kicked my ass last night. Besides, I have some other things that I have to get done, but maybe next time! For sure!"

Okay, right. That makes sense. Sometimes their line of work can be tough and draining, especially when someone is trying to run Gotham to the ground that night. So what if you just try to ask them when they aren't so busy? It may really limit the times you can ask... but you'd still try. Maybe it could also help if you asked for smaller things, like if they'd just like to spend a little time with you before going out again, or if you could just hang around them for a while? Nothing big, and anything was fine. Even if it was just sitting next to them, and having some small talk. Or maybe just the sitting part if talking was too much.

You'd take anything at all.

"I'm actually heading out right now, so I can't stick around. Go ask someone else."

"Can't you see that I already have enough compang with Titus here? Go bother Drake or something, I don't care."

All you could hear was snores past the door when you went to ask. So you moved onto someone else, hoping for a yes as your heart began to squeeze.

Someone had to agree eventually, right?

You begged the Gods as you traveled down the long halls. The chills of reality creeping up on you.

"Sorry, I'm going out to hang with some friends, but maybe next time!"

"..." She just looked at you before shaking her head, and taking her leave.

"I've got something to do at the moment, sorry, but hey, maybe you could ask your old man? Oh! Or maybe Alfred. That's a good idea."

Dick was out in Bludhaven, and you didn't want to bother Barbara considering how bisy she must've been the other night. So, you had no other choice. You asked, heart bleeding from how hard it squeezed.

"Not now."

Simple, to the point, and sharp.

Bruce's words were as cold as ever, and yet the echo in the cave only seemed to make the gap between you and him feel so much bigger. Even as you just nodded, eyes pointed to the floor. Taking your leave with a soft sigh that barely escaped you.

The elevator ride was longer than you remembered. The cold chill in the air grew freezing even as you stepped out, and now stood in one of the many halls in the Wayne Manor. Portraits and pictures decorated the walls, their painted and photographed eyes staring at you. Their gaze far from soft, but at least it was present. At least they, in that way, felt present.

You swore the only times they ever smiled at you that wasn't faked, or just for the sake of appearances was in those paintings and photos. Honestly, it was also probably the most times they've even looked at you too, and as sad as it is — you did say you'd take anything, right?

A 'no' or 'maybe' was part of that anything, technically. It's just not what you were hoping for.

Sighing again, you stared up at one of the portraits, eyes shinging under the lights as everything you refused to say made itself so clear for a moment. You didn't want much, and never asked for more than what you were given. You didn't think so anyway.

You always followed the rules, you did more than just excel in all your classes no matter how hard it was for you to understand certain things, and you even tried to get into things your family seemed to enjoy without pushing too hard.

You studied up on all the pets Damian had so that you could not only care for them properly, but maybe even take care of them with him some day. You played games and read reviews on games you saw Tim play just for a chance that maybe you'd get the opportunity to play with him. You picked up boxing and have even been practicing your aim with an airsoft gun, and have also been going to certain place when you could to practice using real guns and learn about them just so you'd maybe be able to have a conversation with Jason, and even connect with him in some way. You even read nearly all the books in the library just to have a sliver of hope for something, anything.

You learned sign language in three different languages and tried to find out what Cassandra was interested in, just to have some kind of interaction with her. Even writing on small note cards in serval other languages in hopes she'd give some kind of response, even if you forgot to put your initials and such more than several times. You participated in gymnastics in hopes of getting closer to Dick. You tried to find out what Barbra was into so you could also hold up a conversation with her if given the chance. You've tried to match Stephen's energy and do things she likes and have even taken up material arts as a means to maybe be a little closer with everyone!

Yet it never seems like enough.

Your schedule was so packed and filled with activities and extra lessons of all kinds, just so that you could feel like you had something in common with someone in this family. So that, when given the chance, you'd be able to form a connection with one of them and your efforts and sacrifices wouldn't be in vain. Though that still had yet to happen.

You weren't even a vigilante as you tried to persue your own passion and dreams, and yet that one single thing seemed to be keeping you away from everyone else. The one thing you were unwilling to do for them just seemed to make the gap between you and the rest of the family grow bigger. They're constant and continuous dismissals only seemed to further that point.

Just... what were you doing wrong? Was you not being a vigilante and constantly putting yourself at risk every night really putting that much of a dent in your relationships? Did your dreams really get in the way of that? Just because you didn't want to put yourself in danger? Just because you wanted to pursue music instead?

You took up art despite not being super interested in it before. You've been reading all of your life. Your stretched, ran, exercised, cooked, cleaned, organized, sang, wrote, danced, and even sculpted. You picked up almost any hobby someone could have under the sun, even if it began to feel like a chore and a job to you, just so that you could have something, anything in common with this family.

Though now you've gone through countless 'hobbies', and dropped many more since nothing seemed to be working, it... it still didn't feel like enough. Like you had to be doing something more despite having lost countless hours of sleep, just to go through the list of hobbies you had written down that you had left to try. You even took up some sports you were somewhat interested in, and yet nothing clicked.

Though is that really surprising when no one noticed how many times you snuck out for lessons and practice, or how long you were out? When you'd even forget to return to the Manor sometimes, and anyone still had yet to notice you were even gone in the first place?

... You couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped you. It was broken in every way, and yet empty all the same. Maybe you were finally taking after Bruce, but you wouldn't get your hopes up.

You looked up at the painting as if it'd give you all the answers, and yet dismiss you at the same time. The disappointment you felt was normal to you at this point, but the aching pain that came after was always the hardest part. Yet you still stared at the painted faces as if they were your real family, and the people close to them. Looked at the calculated and skilled brush strokes as if they'd give you what your family couldn't. What they refused to give you at every twist and turn, no matter how much you tried to accommodate to them. To do things for them. To just feel worthy enough to stand by their side. To be closer to them.

Though in the end, it is only that. A painting. A well crafted piece that, no matter how skilled the artist, could never truly capture how distant and vague they felt when you were the one standing to the side. No matter how much experience the painter had, they'd never be able to express and show how this poor excuse of a family felt to you, because they were only like that around you.

Maybe you'd feel special if it didn't make you feel like you were wasting your life living like this...

Eventually, you were able to tear you eyes away from the painting. The moon beginning to rise as you were sure the Manor was becoming more empty than it usually was, as more of its visitors and residents left.

The painting itself was nice even if it was one of many that didn't include you, with the number of photographs without you in them being much higher. Honestly, it used to be one of your favorites despite how bittersweet you feel about it now.

You still remember that day, but that would be implying that you forgot the others.

Regardless, you managed to pull yourself away from the spot you had been stuck in for the few moments you were trapped inside your own head. You tried to make yourself feel a little better, and give yourself some reassurance that maybe tomorrow would be different some how, and if not? Perhaps the day after, and the day after that.

Yet it all failed as you passed by more and more memories. Some were events you had participated in, sure, but the pictures made it look like you were never there in the first place. Heartwarming moments littered the halls, but you only recall seeing them from a distance — or being aware that the moment had even happened only when you saw the picture be put up.

It was like the very universe was trying to send you a sign with your constant failures and your family's persistence, intentional or not, to keep you at a distance. You didn't even know if it was appropriate to refer to them as your 'family', and maybe it wasn't considering things, but you still weren't sure.

You had been fighting for a chance to talk with any of them about anything at all for the longest time, because you wanted to be a part of this family. You wanted to spend time with them and really give this 'new life' of yours a chance, but now that 'new' part of this life had worn off. It was hard and honestly more draining than it was rewarding at this point, but you still wanted to give it a try.

Sure, it had been years at this point and now you were just about to go into college, and when you had first arrived here you weren't even middle school, yet little to no progress had been made — you never gave up. You haven't given up. So maybe you could try for a little longer? Just... a little bit, not too much this time, and figure something out?

You almost felt a little sense of hope return to you, no matter how redundant and helpless this situation felt and seemed. Yet it all came crumbling down again when you passed by one of the rooms, and saw something taped to the door.

It was a flier for your performance. One that would be happening soon.

Since your siblings began to pay less and less attention to you as time went on, with your conversations with them growing even shorter, you opted to just tape fliers of your upcoming performances on their doors. Though only the performances you'd thought they'd enjoy, and just hoped that they would show up, if they wanted to, when you stepped onto that stage and approached the instrument you'd be playing for the evening.

You tried texting and other forms of communication at first, but those quickly stopped working and so you just opted for this, and of course it was just as effective as the others.

Alfred was really the only one who listened to your music when you performed, and you only knew that because you caught him playing one of the live performances you had done on the television one day. He not only going out of his way to record the performance, but also trying to find the channel it was broadcasted on.

Ever since you've tried to give him the correct channel number when you do live performances, but that still didn't feel like enough. You loved and appreciated Alfred from the depths of your heart and soul, but what would it take for one of your siblings or close family friends to notice you like that? What would it take for your supposed father to even care to listen to your music? To watch a performance? To not turn you away?

It was only in that moment did a new emotion fuel you. Crawling it's way up your spine as you carefully took the flier in your hands, looking it over before ripping it off the door.

This. This one small thing was all you wanted from them. Over everything else, you just wanted to see one of their faces, one time when you looked out to the crowd when you performed — but every single time, all you saw were strangers.

Every charity event, every gala, every party- that's all you were surrounded by, strangers. Even when you caught small glimpses of them, they were always doing something else, and completely off in a totally different world than your own. That distance along creating a large void-like gap between you and them, and yet it only ever continued to grow. Even when they stood next to you, it was like you couldn't be further apart.

The reality of everything was crushing. Near deadly as you could feel your chest and lungs tighten, with your fingers digging into the paper enough to tear it apart, and reaching your palms as they formed crescent moons, soon drawing blood. Yet nothing could compare to the weight of your heart, and how heavy it felt to carry in your chest.

As you finally moved on from the door, your mind raced. Memories and flashbacks filling your head as every word and notion flashed before your eyes. Barely even paying attention to where you were going, but not caring enough to pay attention.

Every dismissal and excuse thrown your way. Every head shake and blank look. Every confused look, and realization that you were standing there the entire time. Every birthday that passed with the same wish never being granted. Every celebration spent on your own. Every message left on read. Every note ignored. Every time you were forgotten. Every time you were left behind. Every time you brought yourself home, and every time they never noticed. Every night wasted, trying to come up with different things to do only for all of them to turn out fruitless. Everyday that 'maybe' never cones true. Every time you looked out to that sea of strangers, hoping to see someone you recognized, only to find none. Every hour you wasted trying to do something for them while they never once thought of you.

Maybe you'd cry if you could. Then again, maybe not.

You already had spent too many tears over failures you recovered and grew from, and hardships you faced and fought. You've already cried just a little too much during those night you just couldn't handle being so alone, in such a big place anymore. Besides, you've cried enough over people who've never once thought of you. Who never once tried to make time to even see one of your performances, or even allow you to spend a few minutes in their space.

You've given them enough, you think. Especially since after you spent years trying to just make it two thirds of the way — they couldn't even reach that one third of the gap you couldn't. They didn't even try, at least not anymore, and after you had tried to make it easy. Yet, you only hurt yourself in the end.

They never cared about you, and maybe they did once upon a time, but good does that do now when you're trying to go out of your way to make things convenient and easier for them, only for them to skip out on you anyway. No text, no call, no message, no indication, nothing. Just pure silence.

Maybe you were asking for too much, but was it really so bad to want to be loved? And by the people who are supposed to be your family no less?

Hah, who are you kidding at this point. You've just been living in a house full of strangers, and you're the only one who hasn't seen it yet. They've already long since cast you out, and it's only now have you come to truly realize it.

Especially now, as you stand in front of the foot of the door to the music room. Staring at the knob as if it'll turn itself.

You weren't surprised, honestly. Playing music had quickly become an amazing outlet for you, and you had always come here to seek out what little your family couldn't give you; comfort. So it was no wonder that as you collapsed mentally, you had subconsciously brought yourself here.

And yet, only one thought entered your head in that moment.

'They don't deserve to hear my music.'

Perhaps it was now that you decided they had lost the privilege to do so. After all, ever since you had started having performances, even ones in front of wealthy crowds, your 'family' had seemingly been avoiding them like the plague. Never daring to even attend one, for whatever reason, and sure you could understand why they didn't attend the ones you performed at night — but they couldn't use that excuse anymore. You have strictly been playing during the after noon, and at sunset at a push, for over three years now. You've been playing in front of crowds and releasing music for four.

So, you turned away, walking off to your room as your thoughts still stormed. Anger fueling you as you barely remembered storming into your room, collecting any valuables and belongings you had and stuffing them into a bag or two. Not caring about clothes, and only what you deemed important and meaningful to yourself as you just grabbed and shoved everything into a bag if you could.

You could clearly tell now that you obviously weren't wanted, and that no one here even wanted to do the smallest things with you. That even asking to just spend a few minutes with them was too much. So you were doing the only sensible thing, and getting the hell out of here. Moving so quickly that your breathing became uneven, but you didn't stop until you had packed everything you needed, or was important to you in some way.

You only really had a second thought about all this when you were at your window, just about ready to jump out until you paused for a second.

Looking back at the door to your room, you couldn't help but hesitate. There was only ever one person in this entire Manor who treated you like family, and actually put in effort to not only be with you, but to indulge themself in your passion. That met you at the half way mark, and even went a little over sometimes. Since even if everyone else had ignored you — Alfed was there, even if despite all of his efforts you still couldn’t handle this, and maybe that was also your own fault in some way.

You still didn't want to stay, you couldn't anymore, but shouldn't you at least say goodbye? Maybe? After everything... at least he tried.

...

You settled for second best.

Quickly, you grabbed a flashcard and wrote down something before pocketing it and moving back to the window. You may not have any equipment for this kind of thing, but you still managed to scale and work your way around the wall, and managed to reach the window to Alfred's room.

You took a little peak inside, and when you saw that he wasn't there, you opened up the window just a bit, place the small note on the windowsill, and closed it. Then, you skillfully and carefully made your way down, and snuck off to Gotham City. Making your way to a friend's place as you crashed there for the night.

Never once did you look back.

Nor did you ever feel inclined to.

------

Later that night, when Alfred read the note, all it said was:

I'm sorry, Alfed. - Y/n

Just with that alone, it was like he understood everything despite the little that was said. All he could wish you was luck, and that you'd be safe wherever you went.

Suddenly, just like that. The nights where melodies would lull the residence of the Manor to sleep, and bring a temporary, mellow peace to all who heard such a tune, were long gone...

Guess they'll just have to find it, and bring it back.

--------

Kind of rushed at the end there, hope it isn't too bad for a first post. There's probably a lot of mistakes, so apologies for that.

[starkwlkr]

you should definitely have Olivia + her brothers do that challenge where it’s like “who’s more lenient” “who’s more strict” and the kids dunk Hugh and Mom head into water or something like that 😭 and then have Mom & Dad do it to them “who is more rebellious” “who asks for more money” “who does their school work” etc

do it for the tiktok | hugh jackman

an: thank you anon for the request!! olivia back at it again with the tiktok trends 😭

marvel actress!reader masterlist

“But I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Well for starters, you’re not supposed to drown me in the bowl!” You were nervous, but prepared yourself.

“Mom, you have to do it for the tiktok!”

Olivia had the bright idea to do a tiktok trend with her family. She found the audio for the trend then quickly explained the trend to her parents. On the table were two large bowls filled with water. When Olivia explained, you were certain so many things would go wrong. You sat next to Hugh, who was more than ready.

“Alright, are we ready?” Olivia asked everyone. Alex and Reese mumbled a ‘yes’ while Hugh have a thumbs up, you nod. “Okay, lets start.”

“Who’s more strict?”

You were dunked into the water by all three kids without warning. It was fast, but it caught you by surprise. “Oh my god.” You said when you came back up.

“Who’s the messiest?” You and Hugh stayed safe for that question. You were both pretty organized people.

“Who’s is the worse driver?”

You already knew it was coming. Your head got dunked in the water by Olivia.

“I’m not that bad!” You protested.

“Who snores the loudest?” Finally it was Hugh’s turn to get dunked. Water spilled everywhere, some splashing on your clothes.

“I don’t like this game anymore.” Hugh wiped his face off with a napkin.

“Who’s more likely to get arrested?”

None of the kids knew the answer so they didn’t do anything.

“Who’s the cooler parent?”

For that, both you and Hugh went down. At least the kids thought you were cool and that was all that mattered.

It was now the kids turn to be dunked into the water bowls. You added a third one since it was Alex, Reese and Olivia. You and Hugh were more than ready to get some revenge.

“Who’s the messiest?”

Hugh and you put Olivia’s head in the bowl. She was already expecting to be dunked anyways.

“I’m pretty sure she has a coffee pot under her bed. Stop trying to be Nancy Thompson, Liv.” Reese teased.

“Who got into trouble more growing up?”

You dunked Alex’s head, Hugh let you do the honor. You had lost count of how many times Alex’s principal called when Alex was in school. You never received any complaints about Reese, while with Olivia it was just a few.

“I’m pretty sure my teachers hated me.” Alex laughed, grabbing the napkin Hugh passed him to wipe his face off.

“Who asks for more money?”

Since both Alex and Reese had their own, that left Olivia to be the one that somewhat relied on you and Hugh financially. Hugh was the one that dunked Olivia in the water.

“Speaking of asking for money…” Olivia smiled.

“No, I’m not giving you money.” Hugh said.

“Fine, a birkin will do just fine.”

“Who is the most rebellious?”

Easy, none of the kids. (But if you were to ask that question a couple years ago, it would be Alex getting his head shoved into the water.)

“Who is the favorite child?”

For the last question, you and Hugh dunked all the kids’ heads in the water.

@kellyxo1

[mediumgayitalian]

“Oh, fuck.”

The clatter of her practice sword on the ground is almost louder than the crunch that rings out from his wrist. He inhales sharply, biting back a shout — no matter how many times it’s happened, he will never get used to breaking a bone. That shit hurts.

“Fuck, fuck fuck. Fuck, Seaweed Brain, is it broken?”

“Think so,” Percy grits out. He tries for a smile, and Annabeth matches it, small and worried. He leans into the hand she cups over his cheek. “Not too bad, though. If I just dump my water bottle on it —”

“Absolutely not. Water healing leaves you achey when it rains, you know that.” Shifting to wrap her arm around his waist, she helps him stand, shouldering some of his weight like it’s his ankle that’s broken. He lets her, reaching down to squeeze the hand resting on his hip — I’m fine. We’re good. She turns her hand to wrap clasp their hands together — Okay. If you’re sure.

They walk together to the infirmary, taking their time. Aside from the pain pulsing from his arm, it’s not too bad — camp is as balmy as usual, and the spring break energy is practically visible, it’s so potent. The Demeter cabin has plants growing everywhere, flowers and fruit trees blooming as bright as a box of new crayons, and the air is filled with shouts of laughter and teasing. Annabeth’s steps fall in time with his, and she’s a comfortable warmth at his side, pressed from shoulder to hip.

“You still okay?”

“Yep.” He catches her eye, smiling crookedly at her. “Doesn’t even make my top fifty.”

She rolls her eyes, hipchecking him. “Don’t I know it, ya klutz.”

“Not sure I would call being flung from the St. Louis Arch being a klutz. Or exploded in a volcano. Or crushed under the sky. Or slashed by giants. Or chased by —”

“You’re talking, but all I’m hearing is Annabeth, please, please pinch me, as hard as you can —”

“Hey! Get those claws off me, gods you’re worse than an empousai —”

“— and when you’re done pinching me please put me in the tightest headlock you can manage —”

“I am injured! You are beating up an injured person right now!”

“— and then please just bite a chunk out of my shoulder —”

“Cut it out or I’m telling Mom!”

“Wimp,” she taunts, finally releasing him. “I don’t go running to Sally every time I lose a fight.”

“Wha — you do so!”

She ducks through the infirmary door, smirking like she can’t hear him.

“You literally — you snitched on me last week! I got grounded for two days!”

“And you deserved it,” she says primly.

He gapes. “I did not!”

“Anytime you two are done,” Kayla drawls, shoving a clipboard at them. They accept it with matching sheepish grins, cowed at her perfectly arched eyebrow and slowly tapping foot. “I got patients to deal with and older brothers to harass. Let’s get this moving.”

She is shockingly good at humbling people for a thirteen year old. The two of them turn to their clipboard, chagrined, letting her stomp away with an exasperated He’ll be with you soon! Don’t set off the sprinklers again!

“That was one time,” Percy mumbles, ears reddening.

Annabeth pats him on the back. “There, there,” she says mockingly. “The fact that it was one time definitely negates the fact that you flooded the entire Big House because you got jumpscared by a child.”

“Harley can be sneaky, okay. Let me live.”

“Literally no.”

Annabeth does most of the paperwork for him, ‘cause she’s a nerd because his wrist is far too swollen for him to write properly, so it takes maybe half the time it normally would. The infirmary is crowded as Hell, though (he knows, he’s been), so they settle in for the wait, amusing themselves by tearing little pieces off of a blank form, balling them up, and tossing them in increasingly harder places. Percy is winning 7-4, although Annabeth might just pull through if she manages to toss her paper ball into Travis’ wide-open snoring mouth.

“Hey, guys. Sorry for the wait.”

Aw. She missed. Percy was looking forward to that.

“Hey, Will.”

He drags his attention away from the son of Hermes to greet his friend, but frowns before he can open his mouth.

“Woah, dude, you good? You look exhausted.”

Will snorts. “Welcome to spring break, man.” He holds his hand out for the clipboard, scanning it briefly. “Sparring injury? Oh, thank the gods. I could use a break. Here, face me.”

He climbs up onto the minimal left over space on the cot, tucking his legs under his thighs. Percy turns to mirror him, hesitantly sticking out his arm — A break? he mouths to Annabeth, meeting her eyes over Will’s head.

She shrugs.

“Just spent four hours putting Jake’s nose back on his face,” Will mumbles, placing a careful hand on his fingertips and his forearm. Percy flinches — his skin is blisteringly hot. Like someone just dropped a hot stone onto him. “I never want to sing a skin cell hymn again in my life.” He prods at Percy’s wrist for a moment, gentle enough not to hurt. “Okay, hold still, I’m gonna fix ya right up.”

Healing hymns are familiar, by now, but Percy will never get tired of them.

The cool thing about ambrosia and nectar is that as pleasure food for the gods, it’s pleasant. It’s whatever taste you want, whatever you need to have most, you get it. But healing hymns are intentional the way nectar and ambrosia aren’t. Ambrosia and nectar happen to be healing for demigods — healing hymns were constructed to knit you back together, like you mother smoothing a bandaid over a skinned knee. They’re warm and sweet and deeply, endlessly comforting in a way most things simply cannot claim to be. They don’t feel like a medical procedure or a hasty patch job, they feel like someone gripping you tightly and promising you’ll be okay. They feel like getting carried to bed when you fall asleep on the couch. They feel like sitting down after hours of standing, like a drink of water when your throat is drier than sand. Healing hymns draw the pain and sick and ache from your body, and they feel like relief.

But this time, Percy can’t focus on it.

With every word, Will seems to get a little duller. Nothing like the horrible ash-grey he went in the war, dragging the poison from Annabeth’s body, but like his usual sunny disposition was dialed down a few notches. Enough that Annabeth frowns in concern, drumming her hands on her thighs, watching him closely.

“There,” Will says, pulling away. Percy turns his now-healed wrist, noticing the slight pant to Will’s breath, the strain to his smile. The shake of his blistered fingertips.

“You look overworked,” Annabeth says quietly.

Will holds his hands up in a what can you do gesture. “Spring break.”

“You said.”

“It’s just busy, is all.”

“Yeah, but —”

“Guys,” he interrupts, smiling tiredly, “there are two hundred ADHD demigods at this camp right now who have been trapped in a classroom for six months. There are three of us. I’m going to be a little drained; we’re all a little drained. But I’m fine, okay?” He gives them a second to scrutinize his expression, eyebrows raised in amusement. “I have been running my infirmary for years. I know how to pace myself, and I certainly know how to make sure my siblings are pacing themselves. If something goes really wrong, Chiron is a whistle away. I can go longer than you guys without sleep, anyway. Apollo kid health.”

“If you say so,” Percy says reluctantly. “I just — I can wear a wrist brace, man. Not every injury needs to be handled when it happens. You can tell people no.”

“I appreciate that, Percy, and I’ll keep it in mind. Anyways, I’ve got more patients. Stay off that wrist for the rest of the day, okay? It might be tender for a bit.”

Percy turns to Annabeth as Will leaves, frowning. He’s has never noticed the so-called spring break stress before (his camp spring breaks are usually a blast, but now that he’s thinking about it, he can’t think of a single spring break where he spent any time at all with Will, which is odd), but it can’t be good for him. There’s gotta be something they can do to ease some of the bruising under their friend’s eyes.

“I could set off the fire alarms again,” Percy suggests. “That’ll certainly get this place cleared out.”

Annabeth snorts. “I think that’ll cause more harm than good, Seaweed Brain. It’ll just fall in him to clean it all up, after.”

“Shoot.”

Percy counts nine of the forty cots currently unused. Will, Kayla, and Austin are rushing from cot to cot, handing out nectar, wrapping bandages, rattling off hymns at light speed. All three of them look exhausted, squeezing shoulders when they pass each other, knocking hips, exchanging tired smiles. This is so clearly something they’re used to.

Annabeth’s head rests on his shoulder.

“It wasn’t always like this,” she whispers. “When it was fully staffed…”

Percy exhales heavily. Yeah. He remembers. There was a lot less complication, once upon a time. The most chaotic the infirmary would get was when Lee would challenge his siblings to Hymn Karaoke — trying to heal with pop songs. There was a lot more laughter, at one point. A lot more people.

Percy sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. It never does well to dwell, but he — gods, he wish they all had more time. To sit with it, to acknowledge…everything. Siblings. Friends. A camp that’s smaller than it’s supposed to be.

Annabeth squeezes his hand again, and he squeezes back, resting his head on top of hers.

“Hey,” she murmurs after a moment, pursing her lips at the front door. “Look.”

Slinking through the entrance like a criminal is Nico, in all his dork ass black camp shirt glory. He looks around shiftily, like he’s trying to make sure no one sees him, and when his gaze lands on Percy and Annabeth his eyes widen. Annabeth smiles at him, but it does nothing to ease the spooked look to his face, back arched like a startled cat. He turns to leave, but before he can slip back out the door —

“Nico!”

The son of Hades whips back around so quickly he brains himself on the doorframe. Percy ducks his head and bites his lip, hard, because he can feel Nico’s glare at the side of his head like the press of hot coal, and if he laughs as badly as he wants to then the infirmary is about to look like a Spirit Halloween.

Will turns back to his patient, squeezing his eyes shut and rattling a hymn off so quickly it makes a burst of light pop from his whole body, and rushes over to where Nico’s standing. He only trips over two things, which is remarkable for him. Percy would be proud if he wasn’t a little embarrassed on his behalf.

“Nico! Hi!”

“He-ey, Will,” Nico says, voice cracking badly on every vowel. Annabeth shoves her face into Percy’s shoulder, body shaking.

“I didn’t know you were coming! I thought you were in the arena all day.”

Nico shrugs, shoes scuffing the floor. “I am. I just — uh, I got hurt? So. Came to see you.”

Will’s beam is so bright it hurts to look at, a little. Percy squints and realises that’s not just the excitement, actually — he really is glowing, faintly. His hands flap slightly at his sides.

“Well, you’re in the right place, then.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of them say anything for a minute, rocking back on their heels. Will watches Nico closely, biting his lip. Nico looks resolutely at the floor.

“We weren’t this bad,” Annabeth whispers, “were we?”

Percy shakes his head. “Nah, there’s no way.”

“Gods. It’s so — I don’t know whether to smile or take a dip in the Lethe. It’s embarrassing and endearing at the same time.”

“Painful to watch, but I can’t stop looking,” Percy agrees.

“What’d you hurt?” Will asks, finally. “Did you pull your shoulder again?”

A look of panic flits briefly across Nico’s face until he smooths it to something neutral, aloof.

“Yep. Totally. During — sword fighting, I swung — I did this really big thrust, actually. Just — hugely powerful, training dummy exploded on impact.” He clears his throat. “Some might say too powerful. If you can imagine.”

Percy cradles his head in his hands. “Oh my gods — ”

“Don’t laugh don’t laugh don’t laugh,” Annabeth chants, “oh my gods, don’t laugh —”

A light flush dusts Will’s cheeks. He brushes a strand of hair behind his ear, fiddling with his earrings. “Woah, really? I’ve never heard of that before.”

Nico smirks, standing up a little straighter. “Well, it’s not the first time. I tend to go pretty hard.” Remembering his supposedly hurt shoulder, he exaggerates a wince. “Too hard sometimes, I guess. Could you do the — the energy thing?”

“Oh — gods, yeah, sorry. Hold on.” He stares at Nico’s shoulder, hesitating. “It, um, works better with skin-to-skin contact.”

“I have seen crystal vases less transparent,” Annabeth says, aghast. “In two years he’s going to remember this and try to drown himself.”

“I will be counting down the days,” Percy says gleefully.

On rare, rare occasions, the gods answer his prayers. Clearly, both Nemesis and Aphrodite are looking at him kindly today. Percy makes a note to scrape some of the good stuff off his plate for them both today. Hell, maybe he’ll skip the portioning and toss them an entire roast chicken each. Or something. They deserve it.

Will places both hands — interesting, Percy notes, his wrist was snapped cleanly in two and he only needed one hand, wonder why that was — on Nico’s shoulder and closes his eyes, screwing up his face in concentration.

“Huh. I’m not feeling much damage. You said it was your right shoulder?”

“I heal quick,” Nico says loudly. “I mean, some of the damage might have — um.” He clears his throat. His face glows a faint crimson. He clears his throat again. “Y’know?”

Will’s face is a similar shade.

“Right, right. Yeah. Um, brace yourself.”

Instead of starting to sing, Will closes his eyes, holding completely still. After a moment, the tips of his fingers begin to glow; soft, ambery yellow, flickering like lit candles. He opens his eyes again and focuses intently on Nico’s bare skin, tracing patterns around every defined muscle, leaving a trail of light behind. He lingers, for a moment, when he connects the last string of light, waiting until it has faded entirely from Nico’s skin to remove his hands and shove them in the pockets of his coat.

“That better?” he asks softly.

Nico swallows. “Yeah.”

“Good. I’m glad, Nico. It means a lot that you — came to me. When you needed it.”

“I trust you, I guess.” Nico looks away. “You know what you’re doing.”

“I think I just threw up in my mouth a little,” Percy says thoughtfully.

Annabeth laughs, shoving his shoulder. “Don’t be mean.” She pauses. “Me too.”

With a sigh that can only be described as besotted, Will steps reluctantly away.

“I have patients,” he says, in the same tone of voice Percy usually says I have midterms. “So I gotta…”

“Yeah, no, go. Do your —” Nico gestures vaguely. “Doctor thing.”

“Right. Yeah. I’m gonna — go.” He turns, walking back towards a group of Hephaestus kids who appear to be tightly entangled in some kind of net. After a few steps, though, he pauses, biting his lip, then darts back over to Nico, pressing a lightning-fast kiss to his cheek — “Um, bye. Thank you for visiting. Bye,” — and then runs back over to his siblings, shy smile on his face.

Nico’s jaw is brushing the floor of his father’s palace. He stands, still as a statue, for four entire minutes.

“I think he just died,” Annabeth observes, eyebrows climbing higher and higher up her forehead with every passing second “Damn. Survived so much only to literally die because a cute boy kissed his cheek. A true hero’s end.”

Percy, because he is a kind, concerned friend, clears his throat loudly.

“Yo, di Angelo, you alive?”

Nico startles so violently he falls right over. Percy shoves his fist in his mouth to keep from cackling.

“Shut the fuck up,” Nico hisses venomously, scrambling upright. “Both of you, shut the — not a word —”

Percy and Annabeth make the mistake of looking at each other and simply erupt. Percy can’t feel his stomach. His lungs have abandoned ship. He’s glad as hell he’s in the infirmary because he is heaving for breath, tears streaming down his face, entire body convulsing. Nico stands in front of them literally shaking with rage, entire body redder than one of Apollo’s sacred cows, trying and failing to string together a threat that will ease any and all of his suffering. Annabeth screeches, almost falling off the bed as she cackles. Percy cannot even find the strength to catch her, his muscles are so weak.

“I fucking — I hate you! Both of you! You’re dead to me!”

“Your face!” Percy shrieks.

“Percy Jackson, I am going to turn you to fucking dark matter! I despise your very essence! I —” He stomps his foot. “I’m leaving, and I’m going to leave a rotting corpse in your cabin! Screw you!”

“Oh my gods,” Annabeth wheezes, digging her nails into his arm. “Oh my gods, that was —”

Percy wipes a tear from his eye. “I love being alive. I love being alive so much.”

“It really is great.” Composing herself, and biting back the leftover giggles that keep bubbling out, Annabeth looks back towards Will. He stands much straighter, now, smile back to full brightness. His siblings, too, look rejuvenated, snickering to each other and making kissy faces behind Will’s back. “So many beautiful things to witness. I’ve never seen his face go that red.”

Percy sighs. “This is genuinely going to carry me through the semester. I think his soul died a little. And Will just — gods, that kid is bold.”

“Oh says you, Mr. Do I Get A Good Luck Kiss.”

“Hey, I earned that.”

Annabeth grins, punching him in the shoulder. He grabs her wrist and tugs her towards him, chasing the curve of her smile. She laughs into his mouth and it taste like strawberries and freedom, and he presses a kiss to her cheek, to her jaw, and the side of her neck, resting there, breathing against her skin. After a moment her hands come up and slide in his hair, gently untangling the knotted mess.

“He is one thousand percent going to put a zombie in your bed, you know,” she says after a moment.

Percy snorts. “Yeah, I know.” He smiles. “Worth it.”

[kestisvrse]

you don’t know me

pairing ⋆ spidey!luke castellan x gn!reader au. fluff with a bit of angst. friends to lovers.

synopsis ⋆ spider-man appears at your window for help, and accidentally reveals his identity.

warnings ⋆ blood descriptions, stitching, swearing, stranger danger tbh, bit dramatic(?), kinda rushed i apologize | wc: 2.5k

a/n ⋆ i hate the ending of this so feel free to not read it😭😭

♫ - jackie and wilson by hozier

1:33am

it was hard trying to stay awake at this time, sound of the rain against your window and the soft snores of your roommates made it was easy to focus on closing your tired eyes instead of looking over all the notes scattered on your desk, it seemed nothing could stop you from drifting off to the peaceful place despite the thought of your sore neck in the morning from being slouched over your desk, but three taps against your window made your eyes shoot open.

he regretted it immediately, as he watched your head rise from the desk, but what else could he do? he gripped his side as he watched you mumble to yourself at the sight of spider-man on your fire escape, but you quickly opened the window.

“what the fuck?” you whisper at the sight, the heavy rain began to cover your window sill and floor but you didn’t even notice.

“hi, um i know this must seem very odd..” the superhero in front of you trailed off as you let him in, “shit, i’m bleeding on your carpet.”

“what- oh shit!” you gasp, noticing the giant gash he gripped on his torso, without a second thought you grabbed his hand and dragged him into your private bathroom, pushing him to sit on the toilet as you rummaged in your cupboards, as you pulled out a first-aid kit, you rummaged for supplies, “can i ask why the hell spider-man is bleeding in my bathroom right now?”

“i- i lost a lot of blood, i wouldn’t have been able to make it to my place in time.” he lied, “not to sound creepy but i saw your light on and.. and i needed help.”

“can you take the top half of your suit off?” you ask, washing your hands, as if you hadn’t even acknowledged what he had said. he nods, unzipping the back and removing his arms from the sleeves, letting the suit rest at his waist, his mask still hiding his identity, “this will hurt.” you warn, even though he had definitely experienced worse than a wound being wiped down.

but still he winced, clenching his jaw, as you realized it wasn’t just a cut, he had been stabbed.

“thank god you stumbled across a med-students dorm.” you mumble to yourself, trying to lighten the mood as you get ready to stitch his side together, as he went to laugh at your comment he was interrupted by a groan of pain emitting from his throat.

“i know it hurts, but try to be quiet. if you wake clarisse, my roommate up, she will not make this situation any better.” you say, luke holds back a laugh knowing it was definitely true, he bites down on his lower lip as you stitch him up. luckily it was a shallow cut,.

you worked in silence, occasionally broken up by strewn out swears and winces from the superhero, biting your lip in concentration. as you tied together the final stitch you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding.

“okay, the hard part is done.” you informed him, wiping down any excess blood that stained his skin.

“thanks.” he mutters weakly, moving to adjust his posture but immediately freezing as pain shoots up his body.

“stay still.” you say, “i still have to bandage it.” pulling out medical tape and gauze out of your medical bag, he felt as your hands occasionally slipped off the white bandage and touched his stomach. the pain almost subsided as the feeling of your fingertips burned into him. wrapping the bandage around his torso and taping it down you lean back on your knees, letting out a sigh.

he focuses on you as you stand, washing blood off your hands in the sink before cleaning up your supplies, you glance at him catching him staring, as he pretends to admire your bathroom as if he hadn’t been in here before.

“um-“ he clears his throat, “sorry for bleeding on your floor.” he mentioned, guilt evident in his voice.

“s’okay, i didn't like that carpet much anyways.” you say, which was a lie. luke remembered vividly how happy you were to get what you called, ‘the best rug ever’ for your room, his brows furrow.

you lean back against the bathtub, letting out a sigh, he goes to move but you nudge him with your foot, “don’t go just yet, won’t be good to swing on new stitches.” you explained to him, as he leaned back against the back of the toilet.

his breathing was sharp and inconsistent as his stomach stung in pain, his eyes squeezed shut, “the only thing i have for pain is like advil and tylenol. i don’t know if that helps with stab wounds though.” you spoke up, he shakes his head in response.

“i’ll be fine, just- just need to catch my breath.” to which you nodded in response.

“can i get you water?” you suggest, quickly standing as a ‘please’ is heard from under the mask, him suddenly noticing the scratchy and dry feeling of his throat. you rush out the room, tiptoeing into the kitchen to grab water for the superhero, as you return and hand it to him, you spin around so he can remove his mask.

his face was red as he watched you carefully, slipping his mask above his nose to gulp down the glass. scared you’d spin around to discover it was your friend bleeding out in the bathroom.

but you didn’t, as he pulled the mask back down and placed the cup on the counter, is when you turned and returned to your spot on the floor, bringing your knees to your chest.

he begins to shuffle uncomfortably on the toilet, breathing harder as his back slouched and his body tensed. the bandages felt tight on him, as he resisted the urge to rip them off, he was quickly distracted as you kneeled in front of him, placing your hand on his exposed wrist.

tingles shot up his body at the feeling of your skin against his again, it felt so odd, knowing he had hugged and brushed past you so many times but this was different, every touch had him blushing as butterflies flew around his stomach, he didn’t know you felt the same way, but with luke, not spider-man.

“control your breathing, your pulse is out of control.” you breathe, your pointer and middle finger pressed against his wrist feeling his pulse.

he began to focus on your breathing, watching as your chest rose and fell while you seemingly seemed focused on the wall of the bathroom. he quickly matched his breathing with yours, sitting up straight as your hand pulled away from him.

“thank you, for helping me.” he stammered, suddenly self conscious of his voice, how hadn’t you recognized it?

“i mean, what else was i supposed to do? there was a superhero at my window sill.” you scoff in disbelief, “it’s fine, i mean, it’s the least i can do for you keeping me- uh new york, safe.” you clear your throat, staring at your hands that rest atop your knees. “can i ask you something?”

his throat dries, “yeah?”

“i mean- obviously don’t answer if it’s too personal or gives away your identity, but.” you tilt my head, “do you like… live a normal life during the day? or are you always spider-man?” you ask cautiously.

he pauses to think about his answer, narrowing his eyes at you, “oh yeah, i-i do have a normal life during the day.” he confesses, the hand that grasped his stomach moves to scratch the back of his neck.

“cool.” you reply, stopping yourself from question him farther.

“you aren’t asking any questions,” he stated quietly, almost in disbelief. as he spoke, he shifted his attention to your face. “i was expecting some like freaked out reactions. but you’re... you’re really chill about this.”

“you have a secret identity for a reason, i wouldn’t want to ruin that for you. you keep the city safe, and that’s all i need to know.” you shrug in response, staring at the white eyes of his mask.

“i mean it’s so crazy.” you say randomly, causing his head to tilt in confusion, “i’ve thought about it before you know, imagine one of my friends was a masked superhero.” he tenses, knowing that in fact it was true, “like my friend luke, he’s always disappearing at random moments.” his eyes widen but you don’t notice because of the mask, chuckling to yourself at the thought.

“yeah, imagine that.” he murmurs in response, suddenly very sweaty in stress.

“how’re you feeling?” you turn your attention back to him.

“still hurts a lot, but i should go now.” he explains, his hand on the counter to steady himself as he stands, “again, thank you so much.”

you walk to the window, opening it and helping him climb out onto the fire escape, “again” you repeat him, “it’s the least i could do.”

4:56pm

you yawn as you open the door revealing luke castellan, bag swung over his shoulder and hair messy from the wind, he gave you a lopsided smile, “ready to study?”

you shake your head as he enters your apartment, “i was studying all night, barely got sleep.” you respond, leading him to your room.

he just nods his head at you in response, cheeks growing hot, sure you were studying, before his alter ego stumbled through your window.

as he walked into your room, he immediately took notice of the spot of your carpet that had been rolled over, to cover the evidence of the blood stain. his stare lingered there, before quickly collecting himself to sit on your bed.

“i made these flashcards for you last night.” you break the silence, holding up pastel green cards, “ready to be tested, castellan?” you tease, plopping onto the bed and leaning against the headboard as he takes his jacket off.

“oh bless you for those.” he praised, comfortably laying down at the end of your feet.

“just admit i’m your favourite person.” you giggle, he rolls his eyes before encouraging you to begin.

thirty minutes past as you tested him, reaching the end before you would swap over, “alright” you clear your throat, “next- luke?” your gaze drifts up from the card.

“yeah?” he asked, waiting for you to continue.

“you’re bleeding.” you point at his shirt, he looks down to find his blue t-shirt slowly bleed red, dripping down his side. immediately, he reacted by pressing down as hard as he could against the wound, a small whimper escaping his lips in the process.

“what-“ you cut yourself off, to look up into his eyes, eyes widening in the process “no fucking way.”

he tore his attention away from his wound, blood seeping into your bed sheets, “i-“ in a flash you’re up from the bed, cards spilling onto the floor as you yank him up causing him to yelp. he sits down on the toilet as you rummage for the first aid kit, again.

“take off your shirt.” you demanded, and despite the surprise this brought him, he didn’t resist. he removed his shirt almost immediately, revealing the bloody coated bandages.

you stared at his chest, the fact that it was the exact same as spider-mans made you wanna scream, but you held back, removing the bandages and staying quiet to patch him up, too scared to speak.

luke stayed silent, staring at you with sad eyes, praying you would forgive him. he winced every so often at the sting of you restitching some stitches that came loose, and rewrapping his stomach with fresh gauze.

your lips pursed together as you washed your hands, refilling the same cup from last night with water and placing it beside him before walking off into your room. luke quickly tugs hair shirt back on, ignoring the blood stain and the pain that shot up his body at the sudden movement, before going to stand in front of you in your room, “i’m sorry.” he whispers.

“you could have died, and it would have been my fault.” you remarked, “can you imagine? spider-man dies in my bathroom and i take his mask off to reveal my best fucking friend.” you scoffed, tears covering your waterline.

his expression softened, as he nudged your foot with his, “but i didn’t.”

“but you could have!” you yell, shooting up to stand in front of him, “jesus luke, this is what you’ve been doing all year? this is why you disappear all the time?” he stares at his shoes as you rub your forehead.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered, a sad expression covering his face, as he blinked rapidly, “i’m sorry for putting you through that. i didn’t mean to worry you.”

“you-you’re spider-man.” you gasp out, in disbelief. your hand clutches your chest as tears roll out onto your cheeks. his hand brushes your bicep as you flinch.

“yeah… yeah i am.” he sighs, guiding you to sit back down on your bed, “i wish i hadn’t come here last night but- i wouldn’t have been able to stitch that up myself.” he sighed as you sobbed into your hands.

“you could have died.” you choke out, repeating yourself before falling into his side, almost on instinct he wraps his arm around you, rubbing your back comfortingly. he knew you wouldn’t respond well if he had ever told you, but he hadn’t thought about how you would feel to him almost dying in your bathroom.

“i’m okay. i promise.” he breathed into your hair, but you just shook your head in response, unable to respond as you tried to catch your breath.

“i don’t care if i am fast asleep, if this ever happens again, you come to me luke, i stitch you up.” you begged, looking up to him teary eyed.

his gaze softens looking at you but nodded in response, “okay, i promise.” his hand hovers over you neck, “i didn’t want to put you in danger or worry you. i would have told you. i was also scared you wouldn’t… wouldn’t look at me the same” he whispered.

“you’re still luke castellan, i still will like you no matter what, you just… you scared the shit out of me.” you sputtered out, not thinking about what you were saying to the boy in front of you, his body tensed.

“like me?” he asks, brows furrowed to see if you meant as friends or.. as more. he got his answer as he watched your eyes widen slightly and you began to stutter, “you… you like me?”

“what- no i meant-“ you shake your head so hard he thought it might spin off, and so he took his chance. the hand that hovered over your neck held your face still as he connected his lips with yours.

you found yourself unable to kiss back in shock, he heats up in embarrassment as he began to pull away, which brought you to your senses as you pulled him back down to press a soft kiss against his lips.

he pulled away for air, leaning your foreheads against each other.

“i can’t believe i accused you of being a secret superhero, while infront of you last night.” you mumbled, as he just laughed in response and shook his head.

“i promise to be more safe, just for you.” he said, leaning in to peck your lips.

[eternalmoonlight18]

Maybe This Time...

Akagami no Shanks x afab!Reader

NEXT CHAPTER

synopsis: You and Shanks were raised together in Roger’s crew. However that was over a decade ago, and now that you reunited with him once again, he doesn’t plan on letting you go.

cw: sfw, childhood friends to lovers trope! fluffy and then angst and then fluffy again in the end… should this be a two part series?! lmk!

a/n: this is not proofread, i just got the sudden urge to write at midnight LOL. real ones will notice that this is based off of a song by the same title, esp if you grew up watching filipino rom com movies!

wc: 2.6k

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It was a cool and calm night as the Oro Jackson gently swayed against the calm waves of the Grand Line. The ship was filled with pirates, dreaming away after a long day of fighting against Marines. Loud snores can be heard echoing through the ship and into the quiet night sky.

A young 12 year-old-girl crawled up to the deck, trying to find a peaceful area to sleep away from the grown men who snored loudly in their bedchambers. She lightly scampered up to the deck and up to the crow’s nest, only to find it was occupied by a boy with red hair, who was leaning up against the pole at the centre of the nest.

The boy heard the scuffling and turned around to see you. He flashed a bright smile that shone with the stars the littered the night sky. You reciprocated as you made your way to sit beside him.

“What’re you doing here Shanks?” you quipped.

“Couldn’t sleep. These geezers snore so loud that one day I think they’ll attract Sea Kings in the middle of the night.” he jokingly said.

Shanks’ comment made you giggle. “Hey, that’s going to be you one day. A loud old man who snores like beast.” you shot at him.

The boy pouted as he crossed his arms. “And you’re going to be a wrinkly old granny who’s going to be all alone.” he retorted.

You stood up and pointed down at him. “That’s not nice!” you whined.

“You literally started it!” he scoffed as he looked up at you.

Before you couldn’t answer back, a sudden light flashed by. You whipped your head around in surprised and ran to the edge of the crows nest and saw a shower of shooting started to decorate the night sky. Gripping the rail of the nest, your breath hitched as you lightly gasped at the sight before you.

“Oh my gods, look Shanks! Shooting stars! Quick make a wish!” you squealed as you jumped up and down in excitement.

The red-haired boy lightly laughed as he got up and made his way beside you. With his arms leaning up against the rail, he watched the light show with you. He turned his head to his left and rested his eyes on you as your attention was focused on the falling stars. As the light continued to shine and fall, Shanks was mesmerized by the sight in front of him. He swore that you were lighting up just like the stars, with your lips pulled back in a genuine smile as your eyes gleamed in excitement. As he continued to observe you, he saw the reflection of the stars in your irises and his breath hitched in awe. An uncomfortable feeling started to churn in his stomach and chest as he felt his eyes soften at the sight of you.

You turn your head to the right to see Shanks staring at you.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” you questioned, noticing the weird expression on his face.

He quickly broke away from the trance that you put him in and pulled his eyes away. He scratched his cheek in embarrassment as a light pink colour started showing up on his cheeks. He shyly glanced back to you and saw that your face plastered with innocence and curiosity.

“You looked funny while you were looking at the shooting stars.” he said in excuse.

The smile that graced your lips fell as you furled your eyebrows in annoyance. “I was making a wish for you information.” you snarked at him.

Shanks hummed. “What did you wish?” he asked.

When he asked the question, your gaze softened as you turned around and faced the sea once more. “I wished to stay forever like this. With Captain Roger and the whole crew, with you and Buggy, forever sailing and looking for adventure.” you sighed.

The boy raised his eyebrow as you confessed. “You’re so cheesy.” he laughed.

Not breaking away from the sight of the vast sea, you hmphed. “Shut up. What was your wish?” you asked back.

Shanks turned around and faced the same direction as he rested his head on his arms. Silence took over as he thought about your question.

“Wishing on stars is for little kids.” he finally spoke. His voice was mixed in with a slight hesitation that you failed to notice.

You lightly punched his left shoulder. “We’re both twelve stupid. We are kids.” you giggled.

The boy laughed with you as the both you watched the shooting stars finally come to an end. Another pregnant paused filled the air until you broke the silence.

“Can you promise me something Shanks?” you quietly asked as you turned your entire body to face him.

“What is it?” he answered as he tilted his head to face you.

You bowed your head, refusing to meet his eyes. Your left foot scrapped the wooden floor as you fidgeted nervously. As courage started to swell in you once more, you raised your head and looked right into Shank’s deep brown eyes.

“You’ll stay by my side forever right?” you shyly and quietly asked him.

“Hah?” the boy gasped in surprise. He stumbled back and started looking away. The pink tinge on his cheeks started to deepen as he glanced back at you. As he found his footing once more, he rubbed the back of his head with his left hand and laughed.

“You’re so silly (Y/n)! Of course I’ll stay by your side. We’re best friends right?” he joyfully replied.

A giggle escaped your lips as you smiled widely at the boy in front of you. Shanks reciprocated the smile as he reached his right hand out. You gladly took it with your left as he pulled you into a hug.

“Don’t ever leave my side okay?” he whispered.

You tightened your arms around him as you buried your head into his right shoulder.

“You’d have to pry my dead body off of you if you want to get rid of me.” you joked.

The light breeze touched the skin of the two friends as they sat back down to watch the stars together.

————-

The rain fell hard as it splattered onto the concrete ground of the town. People were scampering around in chaos mixed with yells and screams. The sky was dark and clouded, reflecting the mood of the area.

You were now 15 years old, and Gold Roger, your captain, was just executed.

You ran across town chasing after Shanks after you saw him run away after your captain was killed in front of everyone. As you maneuvered around the town, you spotted Buggy and Shanks who were standing in front of each other. As you ran closer, you saw that Buggy turned his back from his friend and ran away to your direction.

“Buggy!” you called out as he ran. But he ignored you, running past you in silence. You get a brief glimpse at him and see that his face was painted with a scowl with light tears running down his face.

Your legs continued to move forward as you ran towards Shanks. His head was bowed down with his hands dangling from his sides. As you reached in front of him, he looked up with a heavy expression resting on his face. His eyes were void of emotion as he scanned your eyes.

“Shanks…” you trembled as your emotions caught up to you. The rain started pouring down harder as you and the red-haired 15 year old stared at each other in defeat.

“He’s gone…” he muttered quietly.

“I know Shanks, I know.” you choked as hot tears started to pour down from your face.

The boy’s lips started to frown as he watched you cry. As your sobs grew louder, you crouched down in a fetal position, burring your face into your arms as you continued to cry. Shanks’ resolve slowly started to crumble as he tried to choke back sobs that was threatening to escape his throat. Lifting his right arm up, he tried to reach out to you, but drew back in hesitation. He turned his head to the side as he started to speak.

“I’m going.” he said plainly.

Your head shot up. With glossy eyes, you stared at your red-haired friend. “Then take me with you.”

“No.” he said curtly.

“What? What do you mean no?” you started to raised your face as you rapidly got up from the ground. “Shanks, you promised me that we’d stay together!”

In that moment, he gripped the handle of his sword so tight, that white started to appear on his knuckles. Shanks lowered his head, allowing the raindrops that fell on his straw hat to drip down onto the concrete ground.

“I’m going back to the Grand Line on my own. You should stay here, or somewhere, away from the seas.” he said.

More tears started to stream down your face as you walked up to him and shook his shoulders. “What nonsense are you talking about?! Who are you to tell me to not go back to the sea? Shanks you promised me that you wouldn’t leave me!” you wailed.

The red-haired boy swatted your hands away from shoulder and started to back step away from you. Your eyebrows scrunched in disbelief as you watched him slowly turn around and walk away from you.

“Goodbye Y/n.” he said as he walked away in the rain.

“No!” you screamed at him. “No Shanks don’t leave me!” you yelled. Your calls were futile has he continued to walk away, not looking back.

You didn’t understand. Why did everything you have get ruined?

You clutched your chest as you fell to your knees, not caring that the impact of the fall banged up your knee caps.

The only thing that could be heard was the bloodcurdling scream of Shanks’ name echo throughout Loguetown.

—————

You come face to face with the man you vowed to never see again.

It’s been fifteen years since you last seen Shanks at Loguetown. You’re now 30 years old and working as a Pirate Hunter. You were docked at a remote island for a two days and was heading back to your small ship before you found yourself facing the man who left you crying in the rain.

He was now a full grown man, taller, stronger, with three scars slashed on his left eye, and missing a left arm. His signature straw hat was also missing from his head.

Shanks didn’t expect to see you in front of him either. Looking down at you, he saw that you were now a full grown woman. But he knew that it was still the same old you, the same best friend he had.

And he knew that you still held a grudge against him.

You glared at him, then attempted to walk past him without saying a word before he spoke up.

“It’s good to see you Y/n.”

Ignoring his greeting, you made your way to your ship at the sanded beach. Hauling a sack at your back, you threw it over your shoulder and onto the boat as you prepared to leave the island.

The red-haired man pulled up next to your boat and watched as you prepared your sails. In the distance, his crew watched curiously as their captain followed this mysterious woman.

“Out of the way red-haired.” you snarled. You glance down at the man and threw a sour expression his way. He smiled back.

“You’re the same as always.” he sighed.

“You have some nerve pretending everything is good between us.” you snapped at him.

Shanks ran his one good hand through his red locks and laughed. “You got me there. But it’s been 15 years Y/n. I’m sure we can put grudges away hm?” he said lightly.

An apple flew at his direction, but unsurprisingly he caught it.

“Shut the fuck up.” you growled. Before you could throw a bigger item at him, your ship suddenly splintered into pieces as a cannonball hit it. You flew out and landed on the sand. It seemed that the pirates you were chasing after caught you off guard and tried to shoot you down.

Shanks quickly tried to help you up from the ground while you sputtered the sand out your mouth. Realizing that he was holding onto your right arm as he hoisted you up, you shoved him away from your side.

“Don’t touch me.” you lowly said.

“You should come in my ship. Those guys are coming for your head.” he replied. He saw that the pirates that shot down your ship were running your direction.

“No.” you muttered as you attempted to limp away from him and the enemy. But this time, Shanks hoisted you up and threw you over his right shoulder like a bag of potatoes. Startled, you started to flail around as he started to make his way to the his ship.

“Yo! Get ready to sail!” he called out to his crew.

“Put me down you ogre!” you yelled as you attempted to punch his broad back. You swore you could feel Shanks grin as he ignored you.

“No can do Y/n! I’m not leaving you this time!” he cheerfully spoke.

You continued to wrestle against Shanks’ tight grip on the back of your legs. Once he climbed on the ship, he gently placed you down on the desk. As soon as your bum hit the floor, you scrambled to get off, only the find that the ship had already sailed away from the island.

“You asshole!” you screamed. Whipping your head to see the infuriating red-haired man shooting a smile your way. “Get me off this ship right now!” you demanded.

He simply shrugged. The his whole crew was now up on the deck, laughing at your suddenly burst of anger.

“No can do, unless you wanna sail to your death on your own out there.” Shanks answered smugly.

Stomping towards Shanks, you jab a finger into his chest as you snarled at him. “You fucking kidnapped me! You had the nerve to show your face after fifteen years and kidnap me onto your ship! You’re a lunatic Red-haired!” you shrieked.

Shanks��� chest rumbled with laughter, with the rest of the crew following suit. He placed his hand onto your right shoulder as he stooped down to your left ear.

“Well, I’m here now to keep that promise we made hmm?” he lowly purred in your ear. The man pulled away and raised his eyebrow in amusement as he saw your face turn red. A deep frown was plastered on your lips as your eyebrows furled in anger.

The palms of your hand collided with his sturdy chest as you shoved him away from you. You stomped away to the other side of the gigantic ship, not wanting to come in contact with your former friend at all.

“Y/n!” he called out to you as he watched your back walk away. He grinned widely as you twisted your upper body to shoot up a middle finger at his direction.

By the gods above you were back in his life, and it somehow felt just right. Maybe this time, his wish would come true.

“What did you wish for?” he recalled your 12 year old self asking him.

“For you to be my partner in this lifetime.” he finally admitted to himself, 18 years after that one fateful night when he fell in love with you.

This time he would make things right with you.

[imfinereallyy]

“The demon is back.” Eddie pokes into Steve’s side to wake him up.

“Babe, please go back to sleep.” Steve shoves his face into the pillow, making his voice muffled.

“Steeeeve.” Eddie whines, “It’s really there I swear this time. And I locked the door so I know it’s the demon again. Nothing else can get inside.”

“Eddie.” Steve squishes his face even deeper into the mattress. “You do this at least once a week. I love you; I do. But I never look because there is no demon. And every morning, you wake up fine. So please, go back to sleep.”

“What if I promise never to mention it again if it’s not really there? Will you look then?” This time Eddie’s voice wavers, his actual terror showing.

Steve sighs and shifts his head to look at Eddie, “This is really freaking you out, huh?” He says it kindly. Steve can tell this is serious to Eddie. So even if he doesn’t believe it, Eddie does. And what’s important to Eddie is important to Steve.

Eddie nods back furiously.

“Okay, I’ll look.” Steve shifts his head towards the other side, where the chair by the window sits. There, sitting in that corner is a dark shadowy figure. “Oh.”

“See! I told you! Demon! Oh god, it’s gonna get us.” Eddie throws his hands up. Even though he’s terrified, he’s accepted defeat.

“No.” Steve says calmly. “It’s just El.”

Eddie pauses his rant, “What?”

“It’s just El. In the corner. She does that sometimes, watches people she cares about until she falls asleep. To make sure they’re safe.” Steve looks at Eddie.

“The door was locked! How are you so calm about one of the kids just watching us at night?”

“Honey, she has mind powers. I don’t think a flimsy lock from Home Depot is going to stop her.” Steve deadpans before shrugging, “And it’s El. She could ask me to kill a man, and I probably wouldn’t even ask questions.”

“What if she asked you to kill me?”

“I’d be conflicted.”

“I want to be mad, but honestly I think I’d hand you the knife.” Eddie sighs, looking down at Steve.

Steve scoffs, “Don’t be ridiculous. I wouldn’t stab you. I’d obviously sneak some kind of poison into your honeycombs. Way less messy.”

Eddie goes back to nearly shouting, “Why have you thought about this?!”

“Honestly, I have a lot of intrusive thoughts. I just don’t speak them out loud.”

Despite the fact they are actively talking about his murder, Eddie can’t help but get all gooey with Steve in their bed. “Is this why you don’t get mad when I think aloud? Another reason why you just get me. Adding that tally to the ‘why we are great together’ column.”

“Yes, we’re pretty amazing. Can we go back to sleep now?” Steve smiles.

“Yes—wait, no.” Eddie corrects himself, getting himself back on track. He loves this man, but he is a sneaky little minx. “Why did El never say anything? I mean, this is not the first time I accused her of being a demon. Hell, we’ve been talking for literally five minutes, and she still hasn’t said anything. Also, what if she walked in on us doing, ya know, adult stuff?” Eddie blushes at the end. He’s acting like he hasn’t been whispering way worse things in Steve’s ear every night.

“First off, she won’t walk in on that. Apparently Max taught her about happy screams a long time ago.”

“Gross.”

“Yeaaa. Second, I’m pretty sure she’s asleep right now.”

Huh, now that Eddie thinks about it, he does hear soft little snores. Which is weird since neither he nor Steve snores, and they are both, ya know, awake.

“And I don’t think El speaking in a dark corner would have helped your fears. Like imagine just hear her soft “Hello” at 2 a.m.” Steve raises an eyebrow.

“I—okay I got nothing.”

“Fantastic can we go back to sleep now?”

Eddie gives one last shout, “You’re not going to stop her?”

“Are you going to tell her no? And make her worry?”

Eddie slinks down into the covers, “...no.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Eddie curves his body into Steve’s, seeking him out. Steve wraps his arms around Eddie, securing him to his chest. “Thank you for indulging me.”

Steve hums. “Anything for you baby. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Eddie kisses Steve lightly.

“I love you both as well.” El’s voice suddenly speaks into the silent room.

“Jesus Christ!” Eddie screams.

Steve can’t help the giggles that come out of him. He tries to smother them into Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie can’t find it in himself to be mad.

———

some people seemed interested in more el + Steve sibling energy. And they are a sibling-like duo I love. So here’s a little something but more steddie involved. I think all three of their relationship would be very sweet. Both Eddie and Steve would protect el. I hope you enjoyed :)

[littlejuicebox]

Astarion talks in his sleep.

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader/Tav (Shadowheart is our lovely supporting role though.) Summary/Setting: 6 months post BG3, "good/spawn" Astarion ending, all fluff Rating/Warnings: PG / Very mild if any game spoilers but nothing related to major content or scenes Word Count: 900+ Notes: Inspired by this post here!

-----

Astarion talks in his sleep. It’s something you’ve never mentioned to him, because it’s mostly when he’s having a nightmare about Cazador or some other horrid trauma from his past. You'd quickly determined it not worth bringing up, for fear of embarrassing him. Plus, if you were being honest, part of you found it rather endearing... especially the lighter drabble that would escape his lips. Delighted giggles, little purrs... it could be overwhelmingly adorable, on occasion.

In fact, the first time you ever heard him say he loved you was in his sleep. Then you'd waited weeks… anxiously, impatiently, unbearably for the revelation to come out while he was awake, under his own terms.

But tonight, the talking and tossing isn't cute. The vampire writhing in bed disturbs you, and your eyes flutter open, catching the smallest glimpse of daylight between the thick, tightly drawn curtains and shuttered windows of your bedchamber. You'd just fallen asleep, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't the slightest bit annoyed.

You idly try to figure out the date. Adjusting your schedule to the night life was… difficult; you often lost track of dates nowadays. But somehow you manage to remember that it's been nearly six months since you all saved Baldur's Gate; six months since Astarion had been returned to a creature of the shadows. Six months you've been in the house provided by the city as you two adjust to whatever normalcy you are able to conjure up and figure out your next steps. You were a strong proponent for the Underdark; Astarion was not quite sold.

At first you think the silver-haired elf's tossing and turning is a night terror… it’s been nearly two weeks since the last one. He’s overdue. You ready yourself to pop out of bed and grab your calming herbs to steep a quick sleeping draught. But then you hear him, soft and garbled, laced with thick strings of sleep.

“Will you marry me?”

You turn to stare stupidly at the elf, eyes piercing through the blackness of your room; his face is obscured, you cannot tell if he’s awake. “…what did you say?”

Silence. A long, unbearable stretch of silence where your heart is pounding into your throat, practically rattling around your chest cavity at the sudden shock. And then he’s snoring again, and you’re left with your brow furrowed and robe half pulled onto your shoulder. Well, so much for your sleep.

You meander down the hall to the kitchen, where Shadowheart has several jars and plants strewn across the table. She’s practically taken over the kitchen since Gale left, not that you particularly mind, since she’s also taken over the cooking.

“Aren’t you supposed to be asleep right now?” She asks, spotting you out of the corner of her eye, not lifting her focus from the mortar and pestle in her hand.

“You won’t believe what Astarion just said in his sleep.” You murmur in dazed response, walking over to the cabinets and rummaging through the contents. You grab an old kettle and fill it with water, turning to look at the cleric.

“Gods, what was it? I’m quite thankful to be out of the camp... his night terrors woke all of us up at one point or another. It's no wonder you’re struggling with the schedule adjustment.”

“He said, ‘Will you marry me?’” You respond, almost giggling at how silly that sounds in retrospect, as you place the kettle on the stove.

Shadowheart pauses. One, two, three beats of silence. “Shit… well, I guess the cat is out of the bag now.” She murmurs with a shrug, before returning to grinding her herbs.

“Wh-what?!”

“Oh, come off, don’t be daft! You had to expect it would be coming sooner or later. Gods, your love is almost sickening… it was sickening, having to hear it all the time... once again, so thankful for the separation of these walls.”

You are frozen, your hand still holding onto the kettle as you appraise your friend. Shadowheart is right. You knew a proposal would come sooner or later… you just figured it would be much later. Astarion was still struggling; more often than not you woke to him in tears or in the throes of a sleeping fit. Countless calming elixirs and teas had been drawn up by you and Shadowheart in the last six months. Truly, you hadn’t thought he was thinking that deeply about it... you hadn't been, if at all. Gods, you two still didn't even know where you were headed after leaving this city-supplied house... the lease was up in a few weeks' time.

“I guess… well, I suppose I didn’t think he was ready.” You sigh, lighting the stove and sitting across the table, watching the cleric as she works.

“Oh, trust me, he’s ready. And he's certain. Perhaps not about anything else... but definitely about this. He's been writing to Gale for weeks trying to source a particular ring." Shadowheart responds, now pouring the contents of her grinder into pouches. "Just promise you'll act like it's a surprise when the time comes... he's been talking about it for a while. He's put a lot of thought into things."

"When will it be?"

Shadowheart laughs, the edges of her eyes crinkling as she flicks her gaze toward the ceiling. She’s now cinching the sachets and sorting them all into a nearby basket. "Now that I'm not telling you. I've already given away too much."

You try for a few more minutes to pry the information from your friend, but she remains tight-lipped. You even threaten her with detect thoughts, though you both know you'd never go through with it. Finally, a whistle from the kettle beckons you back to the stovetop, and the conversation is halted as you ready your tea and aim to go back to bed. You might not know when your love is going to pop the question, but you do know that when the time comes, your answer will be a resounding yes.

Click here for Part 2

[twilghtkoo]

pairings. jungkook x reader (f)

genres/aus. comfort, established relationship

warnings. descriptions of anxiety

notes. another self indulgent writing with jk on my mind <3

masterlist

—

oh god. why do you do this to yourself? and always at this time at night, always when you have to piss too.

it’s late, around 1:30 in the morning and your boyfriend is sound asleep peacefully snoring into his pillow. you’ve grown accustomed to his sleeping habits and it’s now become something you miss on those months he’s gone for work.

he fell asleep easily, as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out fast. muttering an ‘i love you’ half asleep before slumber took over.

you’ve been scrolling on your phone switching from different apps back to tiktok. until one specific tiktok appeared on your for you page, one that piqued your interest with the eerie sound. a lady was explaining a nightmare she had and how she saw a creepy, shadow face with picture evidence. and now you can’t unsee it and you paused the video because the sound was becoming overwhelming and suddenly you feel like it was in the room with you.

you remember how you had to pee and that urge comes back but no way are you walking that three feet in the dark.

you scroll past the video and it’s one showing an otter swimming in a pool. yes, much better.

but that haunting image keeps flashing behind your eyes, so you exit out the app and go back to youtube. trying to find one of your comfort videos you always go back to rewatch. you take a peek over your phone to see the faint outline of jungkook on his side, mouth slightly open. oh how i wish that could be me right now.

anxious thoughts hit you again and you wonder if you turn over, would that face be there?

you’ve always been like this since you were little. afraid of the dark and gets easily scared. suddenly you wish you kept that ocean nightlight you had since you were five, but your mom gave it away to your cousins.

there’s only one thing you could think of.

“kook, kook..” you gently shake his shoulder to wake him. it takes a few more tries before he’s awake. your phone automatically turns off from the screen not being touched. leaving your room pitch black.

he breathes out, “what’s wrong? you okay?” you open your phone, illuminating the room a bit.

you bite your lip. “can you walk with me to the bathroom? i’m scared..” do you sound like a child right now?

jungkook, without questions, kicks the blanket off and crawls out of bed to walk around to your side of the bed.

“come on.” he mutters, he holds out his hand for you to grab as you get out of bed. you’re clinging to his side as you take those few steps to the bathroom in your room.

when he turns the light on, you both hiss at the brightness. your appearances in the mirror looks like you’ve been in bed for a bit. but jungkook doesn’t look bothered at all, a small smile that says a million things to you eases your worries.

he leans against the counter with his arms crossed as you do your business before washing your hands.

while you’re in front of the sink, he comes up behind you to circle his arms around your waist. “wake me up always if you need anything, i don’t mind. and if i don’t wake up for the first couple times, i allow you to smack me with a pillow.”

you chuckle. “okay.”

“okay.”

he walks you back to your side of the bed and tucks you in, crawling over you to get on his side. blindly reaching for your hand under your pillow, giving it a squeeze. “put your youtube video on baby.”

you nod, even though he can’t see. then you hear his soft snores again. you lean in to place a kiss on of his forehead before doing as he says.

[kissforyouu]

finding your boyfriend sleeping in your hyperfeminine pink room ! <3

ෆ˙ ᵕ ˙ෆ

pairing : jungkook x sanrio girl!reader

genre : fluff

warning : nothin just pure fluff 🥰🥰 , oc babies him , reader calls him princess , he calls her nicknames (baby/princess) , he sleeps on her tits

unedited.

exhausted, tired, that's what you were.

you just finished tutoring 2 little kids. one of them was an absolute angel sent from heaven to make your shift easier, but the other, oh god, that little she-devil. don't get me wrong, you still liked the other kid, but she can really become a handful at times. doesn't matter, at the end of the day you get paid and at least one of them learns something. right?

right now, all you could think of was about your boyfriend who should be at your home right now. your parents aren't home tonight, so you figured why not invite your boyfriend in and have the whole house for you and him.

cute, right?

speaking of cute, you clip your hair back up into a messy bun using your newly bought my melody hair clip. jungkook, your boyfriend, always liked the way your overgrown bangs fell down to frame your face. and he also made sure to buy you all of the cute little hair clips he saw, because he knew you liked cute stuff. hair clips, plushies, figurines, clothes, make up — you name it.

jungkook always called it childish, though. you found it funny. and cute. cause he always got you anything you liked, despite his thoughts on it. hehe.

you make your way through your living room silently, eyes scanning around trying to spot jungkook.

what would he be doing right now? it's 3.03pm, the clock read.

"gguk?" you murmur while nibbling on your lower lip — a habit of yours.

shrugging your shoulders, you hum a small melody to yourself while making your way to your room.

the first thing you notice the moment you open the door to your room was the fact that the A/C was on. that could mean only one thing.

your eyes shift to your bed to find your boyfriend practically suffocated and wrapped up with all your blankets around him.

your heart just—melted.

the sight of your big, buff, muscular boyfriend on your bed, wrapped up with your pink blanket with flowers all over them, curled up in a ball hugging your cinnamonroll pillow. (look at the header.) made your heart squeeze multiple times.

the sheets were covering him from his chin to downwards. so all that was visible was his head and the outline of his arms and legs—oh, aWWW! his toes were also peaking out due to the blanket being not big enough to cover his entire body.

if you listened carefully, you could hear his soft light snores escaping. you scrunch your nose up, letting out a small giggle.

he is so cute!

you quickly pull your phone out to take a few pictures of your boyfriend. you're so gonna tease him about this later.

you walk to your bed, sliding your slippers off slowly get on the bed. you measure each of your movements, not wanting to wake up the sleeping beauty on your bed.

coming to think of it, you were quite sleepy yourself.

laying next to your boyfriend, you grab one of your kuromi blankets and throw it over yourself. grabbing one of your plushys that were placed around the bed, you hug it close before throwing your arm over your boyfriend's figure.

snuggling your face into the junction of his neck and shoulder, you gently kiss it, then close your eyes.

｡ₓ ू ₒ ु ˚ ू ₒ ु ₓ｡

you squeeze your eyes, slowly opening them after. you had woken up after your lil nap. squinting your eyes, you look around— oh yeah! hehe. your boyfriend! he was still sleeping like a baby, making you snort a little.

suddenly, jungkook shifts positions and turns around to your side. he was still sleeping, but his eyes were slowly fluttering, adjusting to the light after a long nap.

jungkook opens his eyes, nose scrunching as he licked his dry lips.

"baby?" his voice sounded so crispy.

"slept well?" you tease.

"oh." jungkook groans, rubbing his eyes. he takes off my flower printed blanket off of him as he sits up on the bed. he doesn't let go of my cinnamonroll pillow though, hugging it closer to his stomach.

"stop it." jungkook rolls rolls his eyes.

"no, you were cute!" you giggle.

"yeah, yeah, whatever" he murmurs, looking away from you.

"mhmmmm..." you hum with a sarcastic tone.

"have you, uh, always had that poster? is it a new one?" jungkook asks. he scratches the back of his neck. clearly he's trying to change the topic. cute.

"mmm, no, i've always had it."

"ah, really? never noticed."

the air was awkward for a few seconds, then you break the silence with a giggle. stop he's so cute.

you sit up on the bed and scoot closer to jungkook, throwing your thigh over his to balance your body over him. he is still looking away, the little annoyed expression on his face making your heart squeeze over and over (in a good way!).

kissing his cheek once, twice, thrice ;

"awww, ggukie. i love you so much!" you coo.

jungkook groans, his hand flying to your face to push it back, but you see the small smile creeping up his face.

you laugh, pointing at his face.

"see!"

"shut uuuupp! i had no choice but to sleep in your little princess bed, okay?" you watch him lazily rub his face.

"it's okay. you're my princess after all." you smile.

jungkook lifts his eyebrow at you, the corner of his lip curling upto a smirk.

"yeah? what are you, then?"

"me? uhhh, could be your princess. we can be princesses together, kook."

you probably sound so stupid right now. doesn't matter, it's jungkook whom you're talking with.

jungkook leans forward to grab your wrists to pull you towards his chest. his palms sneak under your skirt to settle on your ass cheeks, pushing your whole body up. strong.

"gimme a kiss, princess."

happily, you cup his cheeks press a big fat kiss on his lips. you pull away just to kiss him again, tilting your head to the side to deepen the kiss. jungkook's palms rub your flesh, squeezing it.

he leans to give another small peck to your lips once you pull away.

"bubblegum lipbalm?"

"mmhm! bought it, uhhh, last week? i think."

jungkook hums, nodding his head.

"lay on the bed, 'm sleepy" he signals.

you squint your eyes, confused.

"but you just woke up? why're you sleepy again?"

"just am— ah, top off."

ohhhh.

you proceed to take off your top but leave your bra, then laying on the bed. jungkook smiles wide, settling himself in between your legs and his head on your right breast.

you giggle, loving this moment. you pull up the cute flower blanket of yours over the both of you to cover you both up. jungkook clutches onto your cinnamonroll pillow again, hugging it with his arm as he drifted to sleep.

"best sleep i'm ever gonna have..." he mumbles.

cute.

⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

(photo from pinterest)

[kakushino]

I'm married, Miss

Tomioka Giyuu x Fem! Reader

Your husband is a changed man when drunk.

Tags: fluff, alcohol consumption, post-Muzan era (so minor KNY spoilers?) Word count: 0,8k

Masterlist

Giyuu and you had gone on your customary monthly date night - to the lively izakaya you had first met at, introduced to each other by Tengen. It was a place that also served good food, other than the good alcohol, which was a definite bonus, but you were not thinking about any of the details of how or why you became a couple.

How could you, when Giyuu seemed to be deep in his cups and looking cute enough to eat?

A slight flush overtook his face some time ago, making you admire him with a bright smile. Your husband was so handsome, wasn’t he?

He took a small piece of food from the shared plate of assorted meats you shared, still a little clumsy with his left hand. He had an adorable frown marring his brow, his lips set in a pout, before he finally managed to successfully bring the bite to his lips, his expression relaxing as he chewed. 

He truly was a changed man when drunk.

“I love you,” you told him, still staring at him with a wide smile on your face.

Giyuu paused, blinking a few times, as if he’d just noticed you were there. “I’ll have you know I’m married, Miss,” he retorted neutrally, stumbling over his words a bit, the frown from earlier returning.

His answer surprised you. How much had he had to drink? Before you could tell him you were his spouse in question, he started to speak.

“I’m afraid you have no chance against her. She’s the best thing that has ever happened to me.” He jabbed his chopsticks in your direction, as his coworker Obanai used to do with his finger, accusatory. “You might be pretty but she’s prettier.”

Laughter bubbled from your throat. “Is she? Tell me more about her, please.” 

Giyuu’s frown was replaced by a completely neutral face, the only indication to his intoxication the blush on his cheeks. He was dead serious about ‘his wife’, it seemed. “She’s amazing,” he said breathily, adoration clear despite his expression. “My pearl, gods, what I wouldn’t give to hold her right now…” He looked down on his hand, still holding the chopsticks as it rested on the table, looking like a sad puppy. “She’s so-” he gestured oddly in the air, snapping his chopsticks as he concentrated, “she’s so comfort-shaped.”

Warmth bloomed in your chest, your smile turning lovesick as you took in your drunk husband. He was just so adorable, wasn’t he? He loved you as much as you loved him. 

“She’s my treasure, flashiest treasure - she’s always got this glow, you see?” Giyuu leaned forward as if he were telling you a great secret. “She’s beautiful.” He nodded sagely, agreeing with himself.

You couldn’t help but to ask him a personal question that had weighed on your mind for a time while he was out of it. “Oh, what about her bad traits? Surely, every human has a bad trait? Like, does she snore, or is she annoyin-”

“Absolutely not!” Giyuu looked offended at that. “My wife- my wife and annoying? No, never. Never ever-” he slurred his speech a little, waving his chopsticks threateningly in your face. “And how dare you say she snores! My pearl only ever releases the sweetest sounds known to man, but you-” he pointed at you angrily, “-you are hurting my wife’s honor, and I will fight you for that.” As if to prove a point, he jabbed his utensils into one of the meats on the plate and ate it, glaring daggers at you.

You were pleasantly surprised at the valiant defense of your character; it only made your husband more endearing, and you really, really wanted to continue teasing him - especially knowing he would remember this in the morning - but your bladder felt too full to sit still for much longer.

You excused yourself, which Giyuu ignored, still munching on the food with vigor. You kept giggling under your breath as you went to the lavatory, a sense of light schadenfreude making you grin wide, knowing he would suffer in the morning and regret his choices. Now however, you would enjoy the situation.

When you came back, your husband greeted you warmly, recognizing you at last. “Heyyy, my pearl,” he smiled warmly, leaning forward against the table to be closer to you. “I missed you - so much.” 

“I just had to go to the toilet, dear,” you reminded him with a soft laugh.

His flushed face scrunched up into a pout. “There was someone insulting you while you were gone. I defended you though.” Giyuu sat up straighter, preening a little, waiting for your compliment.

“Thank you, dearest,” you could only grin at that. Oh, you so would enjoy him remembering the night come morning.

dividers made by the amazing @benkeibear

Network: @enchantedforest-network

[aothotties]

Telling Toji you want a baby

Hello beautiful people! I wanted to post this yesterday, but I was busy celebrating mothers day myself! Happy belated mothers day to all the sexy moms out there!

Warnings: mentions or pregnancy, fluff, sought angst, mentions of mama fushiguro, creampie, overstimulation,

Word count: 1690

~~~

You and Toji are on your way back from visiting your sister and her family. She just recently had her third baby and you decided to stay and help her around the house.

During your visit, you couldn’t help but develop a bit of baby fever being around her children. Those cute chubby cheeks and the random babbling was enough to convince you to make one yourself.

You and Toji have talked about starting a family of your own in the past but decided you wanted to wait until his son, Megumi, was older.

You’re pulled out of your deep thoughts when you hear car doors closing outside, indicating that your husband and son are home. You greet them at the door and Megumi runs into your arms.

“How was school munchkin?” You ask, picking the small boy up and resting him on your hip.

“It was good, I missed you today.” He rests his head on your shoulder and you rub his back soothingly.

Your baby fever is getting stronger by the damn second and your husband standing in the kitchen watching you two isn’t helping one bit.

“I miss you too gumi, you want a snack?” He shakes his head and closes his eyes instead.

“He had a long day of playing so I’m sure he’s tired.” Your husband says, walking around the island in the kitchen to plant a kiss on your forehead.

“I can tell, I’ll go and lay him down.” You hold Megumi close as you make your way to his room.

You smile at the sound of his light snore and loosened grip on your shirt. You lay him down slowly and plant a kiss on his forehead.

“Love you, mom.” He mumbles sleepily and your eyes widen.

Megumi has never called you mom before, he’s only ever called you by your first name. You and Toji agreed that you would let Megumi decide what you were to him, and it’s clear he has.

You press a kiss to his forehead and close your eyes as you feel tears build up.

“I love you too.” You whisper back and step out of his room.

You quickly wipe your tears and clear your throat as you walk into your and your husband's shared bedroom.

To your surprise Toji is already in there, his headset is thrown over his ears and he’s lounging back in his chair.

“Hey cutie pie, why the long face? Did another animal die in a book or something?” He teases, and you roll your eyes.

You force yourself into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck. He looks at you in pure confusion and sets his controller and headset aside.

“Megumi called me mom.” You mumble against his shoulder silently.

Toji freezes in his chair and isn’t exactly quite sure how to react. You both have talked about his wife in the past, but you try not to since you know it’s a bit of a tough subject.

“I’m sorry this is out of nowhere, I just felt like you should know.” He wraps his arms around you tightly and you relax in his embrace.

“Don’t apologize, he’s right you are his mom. You’ve been here since he was one. You’re all he knows.” He rubs your back and rests his forehead against yours.

“I wanted to talk to you about that. So you know how my sister and her husband just had a baby?” You ask, you nervously play with the collar of his shirt.

“Yeah I’m aware, your mother wouldn’t stop asking when we were gonna have our own, why?” He raises an eyebrow and you simply smile at him.

“Oh my god are you pregnant!?” He sits up quickly and you almost fall from his lap.

“Jesus Christ Toji, no I’m not, but I’m hoping I soon will be.” You quickly throw in the last part and await his response.

“You’re serious right now? You want a baby?” He asks looking into your eyes for any signs of doubt.

You nod confidently and straddle his legs while he sits back. You rub your hands up and down his arms and chest slowly.

“Don’t you wanna make a baby with me, Toji?” You seductively ask, lips kissing up his neck gently.

He smirks at your antics and grabs a handful of your ass in his large hands.

“If you’re serious about this then so am I, I’m never gonna say no to coming inside your sweet pussy”

That’s the last thing you remember before you end up bent over the mattress with your face stuffed in the sheets.

You don’t wanna wake up poor Megumi down the hall, but it’s getting harder not to scream with the pounding your poor cunt is receiving.

“Be quiet mama, I see I’ve got to teach you some things. Can’t be waking up the new baby with your screamin’.” He teases, and his rough hand rubs up your back.

He grabs the back of your neck and pulls you so your back is flush against his chest. The new angle has your eyes rolling back and your head resting weakly on his shoulder.

“T-Toji, f-feels good!” You whine as his thick bulbous tip abuses your sweet spot.

“Of course it does baby, you can’t stop coming and crying on my cock.” He smirks and holds onto your hips with both hands as he picks up his thrusting.

Your walls tighten around his thick shaft and your orgasm courses through your entire body. Toji wraps an arm around your waist as you convulse on top of him, he uses his other hand to rub quick circles on your swollen nub.

“Fuck! Fuck! Daddy, t-too much” You gasp as another orgasm builds up quickly, your lower belly warming up slightly.

“You can take it, Daddy’s so close princess. I want you to take all of me, can you do that baby?” He grunts out in pleasure, and the feeling of your sopping pussy begins to catch up to him.

His hips start to lose their rhythm but never their force, you nod your head in response to his question.

The hand gripping your waist slaps over your mouth and you scream into it as another climax approaches.

This one wetting the man and bed below you, tears begin to stream down your face and your body goes limp.

Toji replaces his hand with his lips and thrust up into you and few more times before pumping his warm cum into you.

You whimper against his lip with each twitch of his veiny cock, his large fingers finally give your clit a break.

He pulls away from the kiss and rubs his hand over your belly. You open your eyes and look up at him, the need for sleep is very clear on your face.

“You’re going to make an amazing mother.” He plants one last kiss on your forehead before he maneuvers you both to lay on your side.

You smile at the compliment and attempt to sit up so you can go and take a shower.

“Baby, we’re done now. I need to clean up and take a shower.” You look back at him and he raises an eyebrow in confusion.

“Oh no baby, we’re not finished. I was just giving you a break. We need to make sure you get pregnant, don’t we?”

~~~

“Happy Mother’s Day mama!” You hear from above you.

You open your tired eyes and are met with your son and husband standing over you with gifts and breakfast.

“Oh my goodness, thank you guys!” You sit up as quickly as your large belly will allow and rub the sleep from your eyes.

You pull Megumi into your lap with the help of Toji and plant a sweet kiss on his cheek. Toji sets the food next to you as he sits down and you kiss him as well.

“Daddy told me to tell you that he cooked.” Your son gives you a bright smile as he tells you the surprise and you hold in a laugh.

You can hear the older man suck on his teeth and can only assume an eye roll came after it.

“Well, I can’t wait to try the food Daddy cooked. I’m sure it’s delicious.” You reassure Toji and he gives you a small smile.

You hum in satisfaction at the taste of the food and also end up feeding your two boys in the process.

“When will my brother get here?” Megumi asks, well you assume that’s what he asked because his mouth is full of eggs.

“Well, baby the doctors said any day now, it’s up to him.” You wipe his face with a napkin and he giggles at the feeling.

“You can come out now, It’s okay!” Megumi lays on the bed and pokes at your stomach as he talks to it.

“Alright boy that’s enough, stop poking your brother.” Toji feeds him another piece of bacon and the little boy jumps off the bed quickly.

You laugh and shake your head while Toji just sighs.

“I don’t know where he gets that from.” He mumbles, stuffing eggs in his mouth now.

“Yeah, I have no clue either.” You say as you stare at the adult version of your son.

“How are you feeling? He doesn’t seem to have much space in there.” He looks down at your belly and tries to massage away any soreness.

“I’m doing alright, he’s ready to come out now. I haven’t had any more contractions within the last hour so I think I’m good.” You continue to eat more food and Toji just stares at you.

“Have you been having contractions and didn’t tell me?” He gently turns your face toward him and you nod your head.

“I woke up and you guys were gone so I laid back down, it’s not like my water broke or anything.” You shrug your shoulders only to realize that you may have spoken too soon as your bed dampens under you.

Toji’s eyes widen in pure shock and you smile nervously at him in return.

“Oops?”

Ari

[gallusrostromegalus]

AEIWAM: Why is Ichigo in the Gotei-13 group chat? For that matter, what kind of unholy madness goes on in said group chat?

Ichigo is in the gotei-13 groupchat because he *is* actually a shinigami. A probationary, substitute shinigami, but still a shinigami and part of the gotei-13!

So along with his pager and badge/power limiter, Ichigo also got an invite to the Gotei-13 Groupchat, which being a reasonably technically savvy elder millennial, he immediately joined.

Shenanigans ensued:

- Everyone else in the Groupchat became aware that Ichigo was in the Groupchat when he @everyone'd in there at 2AM to ask something that weighs heavily on his mind:

Ichigo: AY YO WHICH ONE OF YOU IS MY MANAGER?

Rukia, replying in such a way that she also @'s everyone: ICHIGO IT IS TWO AM YOU ARE SETTING OFF EVERYONE'S PAGERS!!

Ichigo: YEAH I KNOW IT'S 2AM, BUT I DON'T KNOW WHO MY MANAGER IS, AND I NEED TO ASK THEM SOMETHING.

Ichigo: Is it Zaraki? He seems like he'd lose his pager and not text me.

Kenpachi: nah, if i was your boss you'd be at 11th div boot camp

Kenpachi: also, your boss should send you to 11th div boot camp

Ichigo: I can't go, it's a school night.

Shuuhei: @IKurosaki what's the serial number on your pager? You really should not have the admin privileges to be able to @ everyone like this.

Renji: @HShuuhei why are you awake?

Shuuhei: @ARenji In order for the seireitei bulletin to be distributed on everyone's doorstep by 5 am, the printing happens right now. Why are YOU awake?

Shuuhei: also @Zkenpachi: ANSWER YOUR GODDAMN INBOX

Renji: Rukia snores.

Rukia: OH MY GOD

Zaraki: how are you guys all yelling

Ichigo: It's #41266-36-423

Ichigo: FR tho, I still don't know who I'm supposed to be talking to.

Shuuhei: Huh. No idea who your boss is, but I think you may have gotten a Black-Black pager somehow. Weird.

Ichigo: What's a Black-Black pager?

Rukia: it's a class of pager that only fifth seat and higher-ranked officers are supposed to have AND THE THING IM GONNA SHOVE UP THE ASS OF YOUR MANAGER AS SOON AS I FIGURE OUT WHO THAT SONOFABITCH IS!!!

Iba: @KRukia ":Rule 12: No Slurs or other demographic insults in any official communication, including chat.:"

Rukia: WHAT SLUR?

Rukia: oh.

Rukia: My Apologies, @SKomamura Taicho. I will be more careful with my language in the future.

Ichigo: Dude don't @ someone if you insulted them on accident, just edit the comment.

Byakuya: @KRukia, since you were the one who discovered and vouched for Kurosaki, administratively, he is *your* responsibility.

Shuuhei: lol

Iba: LMAO

Renji: @KByakua congratulations, your sister is now crying on the bathroom floor.

Kenpachi: I FOUND THE YELLING BUTTON

Kenpachi: ALSO ICHIGO, WHAT WAS IT YOU WANTED TO ASK ANYWAY

Ichigo: oh yeah!

Ichigo: there's like 20 Menos Grande in downtown Karakura for some reason.

Renji: LEAD WITH THAT NEXT TIME

[sebsxphia]

reunion kisses.

natasha ‘phoenix’ trace x reader.

￫ summary: natasha comes home after a long deployment and you’re going to show how much you missed her.

￫ word count: 3.5K.

￫ warnings: sex, oral, fingering, scissoring, kissing and fluff, fluff, fluff.

￫ authors notes: i had the deep desire to write a simply smutty and sweet fic with nat, therefore this was born! this hasn’t been proof read. my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

Natasha was as quiet as she could be as she clicked your front door locked and shut it behind her. She slung her duffel bag off her shoulder and gently placed it on the floor of your hallway. Her heavy boots paced along the floorboards before she sat at the bottom of your stairs and un-laced them. She momentarily craned her neck upwards to gaze longingly at your hallway, catching a glimpse of your bedroom door hidden behind the stair railings.

An excitable smile broke out on her face and she could feel her heart pounding faster against her rib cage, the prospect of seeing you after three months apart dawning every second closer as both of her boots were placed at the bottom of the stairs. Her socked feet padded, yet still in a hurry up your stairs, purposefully missing the creaks in the woodwork to not wake you any sooner than she had planned.

She reached the door of your shared bedroom and gingerly inched it open. She had to control her erratic breathing, her heart now feeling like it would burst through her chest. She bit down so hard on her bottom lip it threatened to draw blood, biting back an excitable giggle bubbling up her chest. Her eyes fell to the sight of your frame for the first time in three months and for all her years of training, they went out the window. Her knees could’ve buckled then and there, at that very moment.

Your en-suite bathroom door was cracked open to allow for the dim light resting overhead your mirror to shine through. Natasha knew that when you slept alone in the house you needed this tiny source of light to comfort you. Even if she was away for one night, you needed the light to feel not so alone in your shared bed. It wrapped you up alongside your blankets and kept you warm when Natasha’s warmth wasn’t there.

She raked her gaze over your covered frame and sucked in a harsh breath. You were partly lying on your side, partly on your stomach, with the print of Natasha’s old Navy Academy stretched across the tattered t-shirt you were wearing. On your second date, she got you a Build-a-Bear dressed head to toe in pilot gear. He was tucked under your arm and hugged tightly to your chest. By the third date, it was sprayed in Natasha’s perfume and her familiar scent had never faded. Your lips were parted and soft snores were leaving your nose alongside you.

Natasha recognized your incredibly peaceful form and a tiny part of her didn’t want to disturb you, but the rest of her wanted to taste your lips on hers again. She padded over and as she was two steps away, you finally shifted from your content slumber. Your eyes slowly blinked open, bleary and worn out with tiredness. Alongside that, your limbs jumped an inch as you took in the frame close to you, but the light flowing from your en-suite bathroom illuminated Natasha.

A breathless and stunned gasp jumped from your throat and your upper body bounced upwards. You felt your whole body come alive. Every nerve ending was set alight. You felt like a live wire.

“Natasha?! Oh my fucking, God! Natasha! Baby!” Your squeal of pure joy could be heard for miles around as your arms wrapped around her neck and drew her to you, finally feeling that contact from your lover.

Natasha let out a stuttered laugh as bright as the sun as she fell into your familiar embrace, bouncing slightly as she landed on the mattress with you.

“My dove. My sweet, sweet dove. Fuck, I missed you, so much.” Natasha gasped into your neck.

You fell back against the pillows with her over you. Her nimble fingers immediately found your warm and rosy cheeks and brought her plush lips to yours. Her lips were cold against yours since coming in from the night outside, but they quickly warmed up against yours. She wasted not a second more before letting her tongue dip just inside your bottom lip and run along it, savouring the familiar taste of you. She pulled back and let her teeth tug on your lip and you let out a wanton moan, quiet but full of need.

“You weren’t meant to be back for a week! What the fuck happened?” You gasped out, as you quickly found the air she had knocked out of your lungs.

A prideful smile tugged at the corners of her lips and she purred.

“Bradshaw spoke to Admiral Simpson. He got me bumped up a week. He felt kinda bad taking me away on deployment for three months, just as I proposed to my girl a week before I left.” Natasha chuckled.

“Damn. We gotta get him a fruit basket or somethin’, as a thank you.”

Natasha tutted playfully. “Not before I taste your fruit basket.”

“Jesus, Natasha.” You burst into a fit of bubbling giggles in response, Natasha joining you as she registered what she just said. She was a concoction of lack of sleep from three days of traveling and pure excitement at the prospect of seeing you again. She might as well have been slurring her words by this point.

“God, I’ve missed your corny one-liners. C’ere, baby.” You purred against her lips and cradled her firm jaw in your hands. You felt it soften as she leaned into your plush lips again. You could feel the months of tense nights and early mornings melt away each time she moved her lips against yours. Small and pitiful moans from her were vibrated against your own. You felt her hips press down and push against your bare cunt. The rougher material from her jeans created delicious friction which you hadn’t felt in months and left you careening for more. Need, want and desire to taste your pretty baby’s cunt again.

“Pretty baby…” You breathed out as you broke from her lips. By now, the bedside lamp had been switched on and it illuminated a warm glowing light over your bedroom. From this, you could see how Natasha’s cheeks turned a rosy pink at your sweet name for her. “I need to taste you, Nat. C’ere, let me make love to my pretty fiancée.”

You began to maneuver Natasha off your warm frame and lie her down. She let out a groan in sequence and she was squirming to be pinned on top of you again.

“Fuck, dove. Let me have you, please.” Her whines and pleas had never sounded so sweet.

You cocked her chin upwards with your knuckle and grinned.

“Pretty baby, you’ve just travelled for God knows how many hours to come home, you’ve probably been wearing the same clothes for three days. Just, let me fuck, my, fiancée.” You punctuated every word. “Lemme take good care of you, baby. You can have me any way you want after.”

Natasha let out a pleasured groan and released the tension from her chest, caused by all the travelling she’d done, in combination with the prospect of her fiancée making her come. It was beautiful, domestic, peaceful, simplicity.

She had never fallen so hard for someone.

Her goal of becoming a Navy Pilot and potentially flying with Top Gun became her priority, rightfully so, but any sort of dating or relationships were in limbo and were always put on the line.

Until you.

She made it work with you because she wanted to make it work. More than anything she had ever wanted. Sure, she worked fucking hard for her place in Top Gun, but for you, she would fetch the moon and the stars if you so asked. She thought you looked like an angel in reincarnation as the soft, golden, glowing light in your bedroom framed your face between her now bare thighs.

As she was lost in the giddy waves of love and excitement due to being back with you, you had shed her Navy Academy t-shirt from yourself, her cargo, white t-shirt and her underwear. You were both lying bare naked with each other and you wasted no time in pressing your nose against her plush cunt and inhaling her familiar scent deeply into your airways.

As your nose nudged against her clit, she let out a choked moan and a curse of your name. Your hands wrapped around her thighs with your fingertips pressing firmly into her flesh. You kept her thighs held open as she bared her naked pussy to you. You couldn’t help the small smirk that twitched at the corners of your lips, as you noticed an already slick shine of her arousal seeping through her folds.

You loved teasing Natasha. You would take long, agonizing strokes around her lips and gently prod at her clit slowly over time. But right now, you couldn’t care less. It had been far too long since you had had her taste dancing on your tastebuds, and you therefore wasted no time in burying your face against the soft curls of her pubic hair and attaching your lips to hers.

An almost vulgar slurping sound bubbled against her pussy and in tow, a wail of a cry left Natasha’s mouth, followed by her cursing your name and, “Fuck!”

Her hands immediately shot out to tug at your hair, pulling you impossibly closer to her cunt. Your tongue started to bury itself deep within her, and already you could feel and taste her cum dribbling onto your tongue. A muffled moan left your lips as you tasted her again. You wanted her to be embedded into your tastebuds forever. You wanted her in your veins. She tasted so sweet.

Croaked moans and gasps left Natasha, with one of your hands leaving her thighs momentarily to snake upwards to her pebbled nipples where you gently tugged and pinched at them. Her moans became louder and her gasps were stuttered. With your hand resting over her chest, you could feel how rapidly she was breathing and how heavy her heart was hammering against her rib cage.

Your tongue moved from inside her to begin swirling around her clit. In sequence, Natasha whimpered and her hips bucked. The sensation had been long forgotten by herself, with her fingers only during half the deployment job. The sudden jolt of direct stimulation to the point where she needed it most, gave her the most pleasure and all she could do was continually whimper uncontrollably.

You began switching between pressing your tongue as deep as it could go and swirling around her clit. If you had the time (maybe tomorrow), you’d insert two fingers, but you couldn’t wait a moment longer. The desperation from yourself caused you to sloppily eat Natasha out, yet still pinpointing all of those spots that made her cry your name. By any means, Natasha felt much the same. Your mouth was enough for her and you could tell she was becoming close. You began to lock your lips around her clit and suck harshly, occasionally tugging at it gently with your teeth. When your lips kissed her clit, your tongue could work at lapping it feverishly.

This was the point where Natasha came crumbling down and fell apart in your mouth.

“Dove, baby, o—oh, fuck!” Her fingertips were pressing against your skull as she held you tightly against herself. “Right there, right there, oh, fuck, baby! Y’ feel s’ good, s’ fuckin’ good.” Her hips were bucking uncontrollably and her erratic breathing was matching that. “I'm gonna come, Dove…”

For a moment no longer than a second, not wanting to take away from her sensation, you mumbled against her, “Come, my pretty baby. Come f’ me. Come on my tongue, please.” You begged her just as much as she was begging you.

Her moans grew louder and heavier with each breath and then, one long cry which crackled into pleading whimpers escaped her throat. Her hips stopped bucking, but instead, she ground her pussy impossibly closer to your mouth in an attempt to soak up each twitch and throb of pleasure. You moaned deeply against her as you tasted her practically pour out onto your tongue. Her sweet release was like cotton candy. You lapped away at her, with your tongue going through every fold and soaking up every last drop that came from her cunt.

You hadn’t even noticed from being too lost in your fiancée’s pussy, but you had started grinding down on the bedsheets in an attempt to gain some friction and alleviate your throbbing clit. Still, you continued to lap at her cunt and over time you gently slowed down your ministrations to gentle sucks and kisses, letting Natasha come down softly.

In combination, you let out muffled praises against her. “Doing s’ good for me, pretty baby. Y’ taste s’ good, feel s’ good. God, I’ve missed you and your perfect, pretty, cunt.”

She let out wobbled whimpers and strained moans at your words, and due to the sensitivity of her orgasm still rolling through her, her clit still twitched when you lapped at it for longer periods. She let herself roll her hips against your cum stained mouth through her orgasm and she heightened sensitivity. She was savouring every long-awaited feeling caused by you, her sweet Dove.

Her heavy panting soon slowed down to rhythmic breaths. You came off her clit with a last satisfying suck and pushed yourself up Natasha’s warm and damp torso. A thin veil of sweat had already begun to coat around her tanned skin. You kissed her light freckles, that had been brought on by the sun during deployment, and finally placed your lips on hers. She moaned into your mouth as she tasted herself. Sweet and warm. Her hands came up to ring around the base of your neck and pull you in tighter. She kissed you sloppily, her muscles still feeling limp from the moments prior.

Eventually, she pulled away and gazed up at you with half-hooded, pleasure-induced eyes. Her tongue dipped to wet her bottom lip and soak up the remnants of your kiss.

“I wanna feel you, my sweet girl.” Natasha purred. She was already moving to sit up and guiding you to lie down.

You knew what she meant by this and you hummed in pleasured agreement.

Although she had just been pulled apart by your mouth, she remained steady as she got on her knees above you and gently parted your thighs with her firm hands. Your pussy twitched as you were reminded that those very hands controlled a Navy fighter jet.

She grinned and dragged her teeth slowly over her bottom lip as she saw the sight before her. Her fiancée’s pussy was slick with their arousal. Natasha’s slender index finger moved up through your folds and pressed delicately on your clit. Your wetness gathered on the pad of her finger. You couldn’t hold back the wanton moan that left your lips. She pressed her palm against your pussy and slid her two middle fingers inside of you with such ease, it made her chuckle. The tips of her fingers curved up inside of you and brushed your entrance. You’d only felt the friction from the duvet prior and this sudden heated touch from Natasha caused your hips to buck forward and chase her.

“Please, Nat! Need you. Need to feel you.” You babbled out.

She hesitantly removed her fingers and still with a grin on her lips, she sucked on her digits and groaned at the taste of you.

“Taste so sweet for me, my sweet girl.”

You whined again below her. Months of longing for her came crashing down on you with a heavy weight and you couldn’t bear waiting a second longer.

Natasha heard your pleading whines and cooed. “I’m comin’, I’m comin’, baby.” She parted her thighs and slotted herself over you. Your pussy pressed against each other and you let out a whimper when you felt her warm clit move against yours. She too stuttered. “Fuck… I missed you. I missed you so much, my sweet dove.”

You gazed up at her with pleading eyes. “I missed you so much too, pretty baby. Feels s’ nice feelin’ your pussy on me.” She moved an inch and you whined again. “P—Please move, Nat.”

Her hands squeezed onto your thighs and she began to slowly move against you. The slick between your pussy coated you both and allowed her to grind against you with ease, with an obscene noise. Your clit slid against hers and pushed through her folds. You were throbbing with sensitivity and every movement against her caused your nerve endings to be electrified like a live wire. She picked up her pace and your hips moved against her to match her rhythm. Your breathing elevated to the point where you were practically panting. A constant string of pleasurable moans left your lips, as you begged her for more.

Normally, Natasha would enjoy teasing you further and testing how long you could beg for, but you were both desperate after all this time.

With her heightened pace grew a firm pressure on both of your clit’s, as they continuously slicked against each other. Natasha threw her head back as she was grinding down hard against your cunt. Her soft, inky black hair fell past her shoulders. Some of the finer strands of hair had gathered around her temple and forehead, sticking to her hot skin with sweat. She cursed your name and cried out about how sweet you felt. Your entire body was responsive to her touch and the firm feel of her cunt grinding down onto yours. She gripped so hard onto your thighs, that her pressing fingertips could bruise.

“Oh, baby, oh fuck! I— I don’t think… I— I can last m—much longer, baby.” You cried out from below her.

Her head came back down and her eyes met yours. Your clit throbbed against hers as you saw the desperate and pleading look in Natasha’s eyes.

“Please come for me, dove. Please, please, please. I need t’ feel you squirming against me. I’m right behind you.”

She ground down onto you impossibly harder and as her clit swiped past yours, it was the final touch to push you over the edge. Your body squirmed and a cry of gratification tore from your dry throat. Your jaw went slack as strings of curses and moans fumbled over your lips. Your pussy throbbed against hers and you could hear your heart pounding in your ears.

“Good girl, my dove. Such a good girl for me… Fuck! M— Makin’ a mess all over me…” She praised you from above, but Natasha’s panting grew heavier with even heavier moans. Her eyes were locked onto yours but her long eyelashes were fluttering.

Your clit thrummed with overstimulation, as she continued to chase her high. Your hips still angled against hers and allowed her to pulverize for the next few strokes, pushing her to crash over the same edge you just fell. Her body began to stutter over you, but she remained as steady as she could. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut as she babbled out moans of your name.

Natasha looked radiant above you. A sheen of sweat coated her tanned skin. The soft light of your bedside table lamb reflected and flexed against her toned muscles, as she rode out the final strokes of her high. Her silken black hair fell with perfect waves over her neck and shoulders. Her teeth grazed over her plush bottom lip as she sucked in the last gasp of air from her high.

Her orgasm had caused her to go limp and she let herself fall to your chest. You held onto her and gently guided her down to rest her warm cheek against your breasts. You felt her soft breaths of warm air fan against your skin. Both of your heartbeats slowed down in sync. Natasha hummed to herself with a smile as she finally heard the comforting and rhythmic thud of your heart under her pink-tipped ear.

She turned her head slightly and pressed a kiss in between your breasts, lifting herself to give you a lopsided grin.

She hummed again. “Let me clean you up, my dove.”

You let out a blissful sigh and combed your fingers through the finer hairs on her temple. You nodded in agreement and cupped her cheek to bring her lips closer to yours. You both let out a content groan as you tasted one another on each other’s lips.

You pulled apart and watched as Natasha’s eyelashes were fanning over her cheeks, her eyes growing heavier with each passing second. You knew that she was beyond exhausted from her travels and the prior activity, therefore you let her rest against you for a couple more moments.

You would clean her up with a warm washcloth in a minute.

For now, your only desire was to feel your future wife resting contently against your chest.

You pressed a kiss to the top of her head and purred with sweet delight.

“I promise I’ll take care of you in a bit, baby. I’m just so fucking happy your home, my pretty baby.”

Two days later and a fruit basket arrived on Bradley’s doorstop.

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[pink-sparkly-witch]

Tequila

Summary: Tequila has a lot to answer for when Y/N wakes up naked in Dean’s bed, but once the shock wears off, she realises that maybe it’s not such a bad thing.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Rating: Teen

Warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions of smut, angst, fluff, feelings, friends to lovers

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Another December Drabble for you all to enjoy!

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Consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite, or leaving a comment. It really does fuel a creative’s muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

The sun streams through the motel’s threadbare curtains, rudely awakening you from a deep, drunken sleep. Your head is pounding, and there’s a ringing in your ears that comes with the vague memory of the loud music playing at the bar last night.

It’d been a hard hunt to stomach: Lamia, a child-eating demon, had decided to take up residence in Grangeville, Idaho, and once you’d blasted her ass back to hell, you and Dean really, really needed to let off a lot of steam.

Luckily, there was a dive bar next door to the motel, so neither of you had to stay sober enough to drive home, and you’d both been well and truly shit-faced. You’d hustled a small fortune playing pool; he’d sung karaoke, and there were tequila shots… lots and lots of tequila shots.

A snore from behind you made you freeze. It sounded like Dean, but that couldn’t be right. Why would you and Dean be in the same bed? Whoever it was rolled over and slid their arm over your waist, pulling you into their body. You could feel something hard poke the back of your thigh… at least he’s packing, you thought before the mystery man spoke.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Suddenly, the whole night’s events come flooding back to you at once.

One tequila shot turned into two. Two turned to four. Four turned to six, and before you knew it, you were stumbling through the door to Dean’s room, lips attached to his, nails raking through his hair and over his scalp and neck, tongues dancing a passionate tango while your clothes flew in every direction.

Dean made love to you so deliciously good. He was sweet and gentle at times. Rough and hard when you needed it. In all the years you’d known him, this was the first time you’d ended up in his bed, yet he knew your body better than you did. 

The green-eyed hunter had known how to pleasure you better than anyone had before him. Touching places no one had ever touched before. Taking you higher than you’d ever been, making you scream his name so loud the occupant next door had banged the wall.

It’s overwhelming, and you can feel last night’s alcohol swirl dangerously in your stomach, threatening to make an appearance. You lifted the covers and glanced down. Yep, definitely naked.

Pulling the sheet tighter to your body, you cautiously turn around, your worst fear confirmed as Dean’s twinkling green orbs and cocky smirk greet you.

“Well, this changes things!” he grins, and you can’t decide if you want to punch his painfully beautiful face or kiss him.

“Oh, God!” you gasp, covering your face with your hands. “This can’t be happening.”

“Y/N?” Dean asks, concern evident in his voice. “You okay?”

“I can’t believe I did you—I mean that. I can’t believe I did that,” you mumble.

“Come on, don’t be like that! We had a great time. I got you off six times, sweetheart! That’s a personal record for me!”

Dean’s words are meant to be comforting, but they do the opposite and only embarrass you more. The urge to kiss him is gone, leaving you wanting to punch his painfully beautiful, smug face.

“Seriously, Y/N, are you okay? Did I hurt you in any way? Did you not want that to happen? Because I gotta say, you were all over me at the bar, and I get that we had a lot of tequila and were drunk, but I thought you wanted me, too?”

Now that Dean had put his cocky persona aside and the real Dean was in the room, you’d changed your mind again and wanted to kiss him.

“No, Dean. I wanted it to happen. I have for an embarrassingly long time. What I don’t want is to be just another notch on your bedpost. It’s why I’ve never given in to your very persuasive charms over the years. Because I want to be more than just one night to you. And I know that’s not what you want—”

“Woah, Y/N, slow down!” Dean shot up on the bed and turned you to face him. “Did you not hear me when I said this changes things? Do you honestly think I’d risk what we have for one night? I’ve wanted you since the day we met, and last night was the first time since we met that you’ve shown any interest in me. And sweetheart, I haven’t been shy in pulling out my best moves for you.” His words and body language are so expressive and genuine, and you know he’s not feeding you a line. He likes you and he’s wanted you for a long time. All of his flirting and come-ons were real.

“And I thought ‘this is it. I finally get to call her my girl’. Maybe I shouldn’t have followed through with it when we were drunk, but I don’t regret taking my chance with you. Please tell me you don’t regret what happened.” Dean cups your cheeks to keep your gaze on his. The pain crossing his features breaks your heart. You want to tell him you feel the same way, but it’s risky.

“Honestly, I don’t remember much from last night, just bits and pieces, but I know enough to know that if that happened, I wanted it to happen,” you say, trying to ignore the look of Dean’s disappointment at your lack of memory from the night before.

“Do you really want me?” you ask, terrified this was a tequila-induced dream.

“Since the day I met you. And if you’re interested, I’d like to see where we’d go. Together. As a couple.” For once, Dean looks incredibly shy and vulnerable, making your heart swell.

“I’d like that too, De,” you smile, giggling when he grins boyishly.

“Yeah?” he checks, and you nod.

“Yeah,” you confirm.

“Then, I think you should lay back and let me refresh your memory of last night,” Dean grins as he gently pushes you back down on the mattress and pulls your legs apart.

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