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#he does call him great one after all
tanglepelt · 8 months
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Dc x dp idea 115
Silly little one.
Danny for one reason or another, whether he was being questioned, on a field trip, just as phantom or whatever. He is in the watchtower.
John for whatever reason shows up.
John: who bloody pissed off the realms enough for the king to be here.
Danny for his part immediately panics. Squeals and Just goes and hides behind someone or something. He does not want to deal with pariah.
Be funny if it was John. Obviously the guy can sense the king means he totally can protect him.
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innytoes · 8 months
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Dark fantasy AU?
-In hindsight, as he's being chased through the forest, hunted by mythical creatures is not where Reggie thought he'd end up when his folks told him they were moving to Los Angeles. Honestly, considering how he used to roam the woods and fields near his Meemaw's farm, the fact that he'd stumbled into a fairy circle near the beach was almost insulting.
-It's not even that he manages to outrun them. It's that one night (he thinks it's night, though time moves differently here and light and dark are all tangled up and is the purple haze of the sky supposed to be dusk or dawn or just a dark stop of the forest?) he'd decided to just... give up.
He couldn't remember how long he'd been running, running from the pounding of hooves and the yapping of dogs that did not look anything like what a dog should look like. He couldn't remember a time where he wasn't hungry, or thirsty, or tired, but something inside of him just kept making him run and run and run
-But he'd had enough. So he just sat down, with his back towards the noise, and hoped they'll kill him quickly. And to comfort himself, he sang the lullaby his Meemaw used to sing when he was scared of the thunder.
-That's what saved him. One of the fae, Caleb, was so charmed by the song that instead of doing whatever it is they did with their prey, he bundled Reggie up and took him to his... castle. Dwelling. Domain.
-He was dressed in finery and made to sing as Caleb and the other fae danced and ate and did things that Reggie very much had not wanted to see, thank you very much. But eventually, they slept, and Reggie met... the other humans who were trapped here.
-Luke, a young boy who had run away from home to become a musician in 1875. He was distraught to hear Reggie tell him it was the nineties now. Even more distraught when Reggie clarified it was the 1990s.
-There was Alex, who had been cast out of his village for reasons he did not want to share, but that Reggie figured out pretty quickly when he saw the way he looked at Willie. He'd fallen asleep near a fairy circle, and the promises he'd been made had been so tempting, he'd said yes before he fully understood the deal.
-And then there was Willie. The boy who had been stolen from his parents, a changeling left in his place. Who had grown up here, a part of this world yet not really. Who did not know what the other boys meant when they talked about years, or America, or really the whole concept of 'family'.
-Luke's the one who tells them of their escape plan. Alex is worried they can't trust Reggie not to rat him out to Caleb, and Reggie is like: um excuse me I was just hunted for sport for who knows how long you think I wanna help that guy?
-But before he can Willie just tilts his head and says: his heart is pure.
-Which is very sweet but also a little creepy.
-Anyway, they do manage to escape Caleb's clutches somehow, and end up back in the human world.
-Being yeeted out of a little ring of mushrooms in the soil of a plant Ray overwatered in the big plant wall of the Molina studio was not particularly pleasant, okay. Considering a real human should not be able to fit through that. But Willie explained that as soon as a fairy portal grew, it was only a manner of time that the fairies would notice it and stake it out to see what they could lure to their realm.
-Somehow, Luke and Alex get thrown clear across the room, Luke slamming against the door, Alex dropping onto the concrete floor.
-Reggie's not sure if him crashing against a pretty wooden piano is better or worse. The sound it made was definitely worse.
-Somehow, Willie ends up sitting crosslegged on the little piano bench, and he turns and quickly crushes up the mushrooms to destroy the portal.
-Julie, of course, is screaming, Alex and Luke and Reggie are screaming. Willie is trying to explain to Julie she over-watered her fern and pouts when she runs away.
-No they're not ghosts but they are changed and they all have weird powers. Luke nearly cries with joy that he can still summon his guitar. Alex is really not okay with this whole 'walking through walls' thing. Reggie is sad he cannot summon a puppy or a pizza.
-Willie can teleport short distances and is shocked to learn humans can't just do that? You have to walk everywhere? Or ride a horse. What's a car? What's roller skates? He needs to see one of these skateboad things immediately, let's summon the human girl back to ask for one. What can they trade for a skateboard?
-They're kind of freaked out at the whole 2020 thing, but hey, Reggie's like: at least it hasn't been a hundred years like when I told Luke about the 90s.
-Queue canon but it's even worse and more chaotic.
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coconut530 · 8 months
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WE’LL GET YOU OUT OF THERE FRENCHIE
This ep reminds me of this vine:
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#Nevermore#Nevermore Webtoon#Webtoon#Just as a whole the ep was great — but those chains were amazing and really gave the ep a constricting feel which is cool#I like the panel where Monty’s cross is front and center; builds up to the final lines between them#It’s very strange to see Duke and Monty alone; usually he lets Lenore handle him and we don’t get to see how Duke deals with him#NO MONTY THAT’S A TERRIBLE IDEA TO LEAVE HIM THERE#Ohhhhhh and when he tugged the chains around his neck WHY YOU GOTTA BE SO RUUUUDDDEEE#LOVE LOVE LOVE the Cask of Amontillado callbacks my god they’re so on the nose and I love it “What a laugh…!”#Well Monty the horse kick doesn’t explain the tooth but it DOES explain why you’re dumb#Also saying that in the southern accent and stuff reminded me of Shane’s backstory from Shiloh (🐴)#Sucker punch from WHOOOO Monty?? Also how much do you remember we’ve only got one flashback from you#OF COURSE HE WAS AWAKE AND HEARD THAT well dude it’s TRUE#His black eyes scare me#STOP PUSHING HIM AND IMPRISONING HIM#OH GOD THEY’RE ALL IN ON IT#ADA’S NAILS ARE DIRTY FROM THE PLASTER#Gosh if Ada’s southern I swear she’s been saying a lot of southern slang lately#CALLED HIM A BASTARD YESSSSS#ADA THIS IS LIKE TWO HOURS AFTER HE TOLD YOU TO BARK LIKE A DOG WHY ARE YOU DOING HIS BIDDING AND PLASTERING DUKE IN#YOU’RE BETTER THAN THIS GIRL HOW MANY TIMES DO I NEED TO TELL YOU#WHY YOU KICK HER YOU IDIOT#AND AUGHHHH HOW HE PLEADS WITH WILL AND ADA WHILE MONTY MANIACALLY LAUGHS IT OFF#LIKE IN 50 WHEN HE LAUGHED AT LENORE’S SITUATION#BUT JEEZ THE WAY HE GRADUALLY LAUGHS HARDER AND HARDER IS DONE VERY WELL#AND LIKE#ANNABEL I TRUSTED YOU WHY DID YOU OFFER UP DUKE OF ALL PEOPLE WHY DID YOU COME UP WITH THIS PLAN IN THE FIRST PLACE IT IS#NOT GOOD AND YOU KNOW LENORE WILL DEFINITELY NOT LIKE YOU OR TRUST YOU AFTER THIS THIS IS WORKING AGAINST YOUR PLAN#YOU WANT SO BADLY TO GO RIGHT YOU AND LENORE NEED TO GET ON THE SAME PAGE BECAUSE YOU’RE SABATOGING YOURSELF#AND NOW WE ENTER THE DIVORCE ARC
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haruchiyos · 2 years
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Update
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yikez · 1 year
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me : *constantly talks to him* *asks for advice* *shows him exams from other classes* *tries to get his attention* *tries to get him to compliment me* *vaguely tells him about my issues so he asks about it*
also me : surely he doesn't know i see him as a father figure 😋👍
#btw despite trying all this he doesn reciprocate#i mean kinda#i mean it's complicated#like i told him a guy in my class who is very right wing makes me uncomfortable because of the things he says#and when that guy called somone gay as an insult and called someone the r slur my teacher got realllyyyyy mad#cuz he knows I'm a lesbian and I've hinted at thinking i might be nd#and my friend who sits next to me is actually ND soooo that didn't fly well with my teacher and I'm so happy he said something#and he immediately looked at me after!!!! i was having a really bad day that day and it made it so much better#but like whenever i say something mean about myself#like not in a compliment fishing way but rather as a I'm insecure so it just comes out of my mouth way#he doesn't disagree#and i know as a teacher you generally shouldn't be the one person to therapize your student#but like a little don't say that about yourself would be great#also I'm like the best in his class but I'm a perfectionist because of that and i keep being 1 point away from full points#and like he just makes fun of me for it#i know he means it nicely and that's just his humor and why i like him in the first place#but I've never gotten a good job from him#maybe he's just not a complimenting type?? i wish he would say one single nice thing about me though#he DOES recommend me a bunch of stuff and we talk a lot and that's probably how he shows he cares#so I'm trying to get used to that instead of expecting words of affirmations#teacher crush community#tcc#father figure teachers
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storytellersun · 28 days
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exoexid · 2 months
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the suyeol lore is so crazy
#their relationship is so interesting to me like aoughhhh#like you see subaek and even tho they don't talk a lot on camera (most of the time) those two get along so well#they understand and respect each other so much they take their job very seriously and they're actually good friends as a result#suyeol on the other hand is 12 years of slowburn like it's crazyyyyy#you admire him and believe in him like no one else does and then you discover that he isn't that great actually#so you get disappointed and distance yourself and then you both are in this weird limbo for years as you grow up#and slowly but surely you rediscover how your relationship works because both of you are adults now and now we're here#like yeah suhito was stressed back then the context was not great for a leader AND tao was still with exo so lmao pcy could fend for himself#so i get ittttt they were going through it but. i need to know what he said to pcy like oh my god was it really that bad 😭#i wonder if they've ever mentioned it 🤔#writing this bc i just remembered that one time they had to describe e/o and suho was like#“you're my cute dongsaeng i admire your talents so much and oh btw you're not uncomfortable around me these days right? uwu”#LIKE ??? KING YOU CAN'T SAY THAT AND LEAVE US IN THE DARK#(<- they totally can it's not our business lmao)#idolization to tentative ''''enemies'''' to coworkers to friends to good friends is crazy#i need to look into this properly omg let's do some research#anyways i want a subunit :) they can be called exo sc too sehun won't mind bc these are like his favorite people in the world!!!#idk i find the exos and their bond so interesting because you truly have it all with them there's a whole spectrum of friendships#and i appreciate that it's not like with b*s & taegi (if you don't know who they are... let's keep it that way <3)#because those two were just too different to get along. it was extreme. but bighit forced it so much it was painful to see sometimes#and then the hawaii trip came and they painted it like a ''see? after this trip they get along so well now <3'' moment#1. girl let's be serious for a sec 😐 and 2. it's not our business!!!!! focus on making good music!!!!!#i'm so glad exo didn't have to go through something like that bc i just know that they'd have disbanded by now sjfsifjsk#the saranghaja sprite isn't that intense we lovr freedom of choice (keeping in mind that they were under sm) <33333#so YEAH. can you guys tell i can't sleep hehe :)#dara.t#suho and chanyeol
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sttoru · 3 months
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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. toji witnesses his son’s first steps and it nearly makes the grown man cry.
wc. 1k
tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff. reader gets called ‘mama.’ life if gege just gave us what we wanted. ending is a bit rushed if you couldn't tell.
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“gumi, look here,” you coo at your child who’s sitting in his playpen. you’re laying against some stuffed animals, too tired to move after doing all kinds of chores. the baby looks up at you with curious eyes and you take your chance to make a silly face.
megumi giggles and responds by throwing a small toy your way. it accidentally hits your head, though luckily it isn’t anything too heavy.
toji, who laid lazily on the opposite side of the playpen, watches the scene unfold. he grins once he sees you rub the spot on your forehead, “oi, megumi, careful with y’r mama.”
you chuckle, dropping your dramatic act. you ruffle megumi’s hair a bit before standing up. a yawn escapes your lips and you stretch your arms above your head—clearly in need of a break.
“i’m gonna take a quick nap, honey,” your eyes meet toji’s. your husband nods and sits up with a groan. he’s also sleepy, but he knows that you did most of the work today. he’ll gladly watch over megumi while you rest and regain your energy.
megumi starts to fuss the moment you step out of the playpen. his tiny hands reach out to you—the little boy clearly too attached to his mother. toji shakes his head and effortlessly picks his son up and puts him on his lap, “naw, y’re stuck with me buddy. mama’s gotta rest.”
megumi squirms around and whimpers. he’s clearly not interested in his dad at the moment. toji sighs and tries his best to keep the baby still, but to no avail.
“mama! mama!” the baby’s cries for you breaks your heart. you stop a a couple steps away and turn around with a pout. you notice how megumi is kicking his legs, thrashing around in toji’s arms in attempt to free himself.
you sigh and crouch down, “gumi, mama’s sleepy. . papa’s gonna play with you, okay?”
megumi, of course, does not understand what you mean. he thinks you’re leaving him alone and it causes him to wail loudly. you’re about to console your son, but backtrack when you notice how megumi’s starting to stand up on his own.
his chubby legs are barely holding his body weight up. the balance is hard to find for the baby, yet he still does his utmost best. he nearly trips from just standing.
even toji looks on with wide eyes and a hint of a prideful grin on his lips. he’s silently encouraging his son in his head.
“ma..ma,” megumi babbles. he almost topples over, but toji’s quick reflexes come in handy. a big hand keeps the baby standing straight. the dark-haired man carefully lets go again, however keeps his hand near his son’s body. just in case.
neither toji nor you could believe what was happening. you both watch in awe as megumi’s left foot moves forward—the right one copying that same movement.
your precious boy, taking his first steps right in front of you both to witness. it’s a heartwarming sight. you hold your breath and toji’s lips part slightly. your husband has yet to grasp why this scene in front of him makes him feel so. . . giddy on the inside.
“c’mon! come to mama!” you squeal excitedly and open your arms, encouraging megumi to your best ability. the tiny boy giggles and moves his limbs as fast as they could go. his chubby hands flail around as he quickly walks over to you.
toji stares at his family and that’s when it hits him; how much he loves this peaceful life. his son just achieved another great milestone that he had the honour of witnessing firsthand. it made him happy that he chose this path instead of the more ‘darker’ one.
it also nearly causes your husband to shed some tears from pure joy. but, toji didn’t want to seem too ‘soft’. even if he secretly is for his wife and child.
toji coughs subtly. totally not to get rid of the irritating lump in his throat. a ghost of a smile appears on his face while he got up, immediately moving towards megumi and you.
“good job, kiddo,” toji says as he puts his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. he stares down at megumi in your arms—the little boy getting drowned in kisses and compliments.
your ears twitch. there’s no denying it; the faint crack in toji’s voice. you give your kid a break from your overwhelming affection and tilt your head back. your eyes meet your husband’s.
you grin when you see how he quickly avoids your gaze. something he never does unless he’s. . . “gonna cry?”
toji rolls his eyes at your question. he ignores your teasing by trying to change the subject. he focuses on megumi who’s still going absolutely wild in your embrace—cutely demanding more praise and kisses.
“daddy can also give ya some kisses, y’know,” toji pokes megumi’s cheek, fascinated by the plush fat. the baby stops babbling the moment his dad talks to him. he looks up at toji and then back at the finger still prodding at his cheek.
megumi opens his mouth and doesn’t waste a single second. he goes for a playful bite, though his little baby teeth do no real damage, “yumm.”
you giggle at the way megumi frowns at toji, his teeth holding tightly onto toji’s fingertip. it’s time for your husband to take over the dramatics now.
“hey, that ain’t so nice now,” toji hisses and leans forward until his face is right in front of megumi—a similar frown on both the dad and son’s faces. they really do look alike now that you see them both from up close again.
megumi only bites down more on the finger in his mouth and toji reacts to that by feigning his anger. it’s amusing to see how neither of them gives up first.
but, it’s also rather cute to see how the father-son dynamic plays out in cozy family moments like these.
your eyes focus back on toji’s face and you can’t help but smile to yourself. he’s a good husband and father; always there for the both of you. his own way of showing support for megumi’s first steps is rather heartwarming. plus, the playful banter between the two never fails to make any moment all the more precious.
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luveline · 3 months
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𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
Spencer calls you drunk and in need of rescue. You confess a few secrets to him while he won’t remember them (or so you think). 3k, fem
cw drunk!spencer, mentioned past drug use, confident/bombshell!reader, flirting, spencer getting some well deserved comfort, a handful of his drunken compliments, insecurity, intense mutual pining
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You’re blissfully sleeping in the arms of a REM cycle when your phone rings. It pulls you by the chest, a punch of shock and expectancy at once. It’ll be someone calling you into work, Hotch himself if you’re lucky. 
You search blindly for your phone. If you’re even luckier, it’ll be a wrong number. Your fingers curl around the little body of your phone and you bring it to your ear without checking the number, frazzled. “Hello?” you ask hoarsely. 
Total quiet. 
“Hello?” You pull the screen away. The caller reads: SPENCER. You pull it back rather than hang up. “Hey, Spencer. Are you there?” 
“Hello.” He laughs. “Hello, are you there?” 
“I’m here, Spencer, where are you?” 
“That’s an interesting question, actually, and I’m sure there’s a great answer, but…” 
“But what?” You sit up quickly, your throat aching with sleep. Your room is black as coal pitch. “Spencer, what time is it, my love?” 
“You shouldn’t call me stuff like that.” 
“Stop being weird and tell me where you are.” 
He laughs like a hyena. You can see it in your mind, his smile and all his pearly perfect teeth. You love it when he smiles like that and he rarely ever does. “I’m somewhere and I need your help getting home!” he says with another funny laugh. 
“Are you alright? You sound…” He sounds inebriated. 
Spencer struggled with his drug problem for so long before you found out. You just hadn’t been around enough, and when you were he’d gotten good at hiding it. You can still remember how furious you’d been with everyone, including him, because you could’ve helped, would’ve done anything to support him through it. If he’s hurting now and hasn’t told you, you love him, but you’ll be insanely angry. 
“Spencer?” you ask quietly. 
“I went for drinks with a girl but she didn’t like me and I may have drowned my sorrows too much,” he admits. “Um. Did you know gin is very strong?” 
“Aw, baby. You’re cheating on me?” 
“I’m afraid so,” he says, and hiccups. 
“Where are you?” 
After some hassle wherein you persuade Spencer to give the phone to someone else in the bar for a slightly less drunk interrogation, you dress and gather your bearings for the drive. You zip a hoodie up over your pyjamas, stuff your feet into some old converse, and set out into the dark to find him. 
He calls you again as you’re parking. “Hello,” he says as soon as you answered. “I need you to come and get me.” 
Spencer called you twice to save him. Even if he doesn’t remember, he’s called you to come and get him when he knows he needs help, and that realisation is hard to ignore. “Spencer, I’m two minutes away, I’m parking. You’re still where you were?” 
“Where was I?” 
“At the bar, sweetheart. Are you still there?” It’s scarily dark out and you didn’t grab any sort of defensive measure before you came, which you regret now, climbing out of your car to walk the dimly lit road. The bar glows like a beacon to be followed. 
“Still where?” 
“Did you hit your head?” 
“Not to my knowledge. Though I’m not sure I have much right now. I feel like I’m forgetting everything I’ve ever read, and I’ve read a lot. You know I can read about eighty average length novels in one hour on an e-reader? The buttons make it faster.” 
“You haven’t told me that before.” You shiver against the nighttime winds, footsteps heavy on the grey sidewalk. 
“I’m trying to be more conversational. Emily says it’s not working.” 
“You’re conversational. Isn’t the only condition of being conversational to prompt a conversation? We’re always talking.” 
“…What?” 
You laugh like crazy. “Spencer, you don’t need to change the way you talk.” 
“I annoy people.” 
“You don’t annoy me.” 
You approach the door of the bar, a ramshackle sheet of plywood over what looks to be a glass door. The bar building seems in similar dessaray, with modern features wrecked by scratches and smashed panes. It’s a real dive. Spencer couldn’t have meant to come here. 
You war with both hands to open the door and find yourself faced with a long and empty corridor leading to another door. Worried you’re going to get kidnapped, you bring the phone back to your ear, Spencer’s chatting an immediate greeting. “…telling me I’m doing something wrong without telling me what it is, it’s impossible.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, can you come to the door?” 
“I don’t think I have control of my legs,” he says without inflection. 
“It’s definitely the building with the smashed door?” 
“Yesssss. Are you here?” he asks excitedly. 
“I better not get murdered, Spencer Reid.” 
“Am I in trouble?” 
“How are you even keeping the phone to your ear right now?” 
“I’m on speaker phone. Milly showed me how to do it. Say hi, Milly.” 
“Hi Milly,” a new voice says. 
You rub your eyes with one hand and square your shoulders, prepared to defend yourself if the creepy door leads to a creepier room. 
Spencer is immediately visible from the get go. You open the door on to a rather cosy looking bar, which you’re thinking might be the whole point; wretched exterior, secret attraction. Warm orange light ebbs into the space from sconces and a faux fireplace, while a wrestling match playing from the small TV behind the bar casts brighter light down onto Spencer’s shoulders. He looks out of place, dressed in a white oxford shirt and a suit jacket, his tie loosened and hanging from either side of his neck, compared to the lingering patrons who sit dotted around the room in booths and on barstools. One such patron sits in a plaid shirt and a trucker hat, her hair to her back, thick and dark. 
You hang up the call and put your phone in your pocket. Spencer gasps like he’s been smacked and picks his own phone up from the bar, clicking at buttons with clumsy fingers. “No,” he hums sadly. 
“Spencer,” you say, not wanting to disturb the people spending their sorry-looking night here. “Spencer. Hey, Spence!” 
His phone tips between his fingers. The woman you assume to be Milly catches it and offers it back without looking too far from her beer. 
“Hey,” you say gently, crossing a wide empty space to meet him. The room itself is shaped like a horseshoe, the bar taking up a surprising amount in the centre, and booths and tables placed around it. Spencer’s off of his barstool as you approach, eyes like puppy dog’s, arms extended. “You okay?” you ask. 
You can feel eyes on you both from every angle, but it doesn’t matter, not when Spencer’s falling into your arms (or on to them —he’s surprisingly tall when you aren’t wearing heels). “You alright?” you ask again. 
“You don’t have to be worried, I’m fine.” 
He’s less coordinated in real life than he’d sounded over the phone, his slurring unmissable, his hands like jumping fish as he tries to hug you. It’s weird and straining to take his weight but you do it without complaint. He smells the same, at least, only his cedary cologne is sharpened by the tang of gin on his breath. 
“Thank god you’re here,” he whispers. 
“Why?” you ask, pulling away to check for danger. 
“I missed you.” 
“I missed you too, handsome,” you say, genuine but laying it on thick simultaneously as you ease his head back to cup his cheek. You can’t help yourself. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever met, and it gets worse every year. 
He frowns at you deeply. “I don’t like first dates.” 
“Then don’t go on them,” you suggest, “you don’t need to until you’re ready.” 
“I’m ready for love,” he says. You pull your lips into a flattened line, unsure of what to say, how to explain that it’s waiting for him, but his chin dips towards his neck and his eyes lock onto your face. “You’re not wearing makeup. God, you’re so pretty.” 
You flinch away from him. “Fuck, Spencer.”
“I’m sorry! It’s not that you don’t look pretty with makeup, but I never see you without it!” 
You’d forgotten you weren’t wearing any. Makeup isn’t a shield, exactly, but you like putting your best foot forward, so to speak. You’ve no clue what you look like tonight, hadn’t managed to look in the mirror, you’d been focused on getting to Spencer before he got lost. You can imagine the puffiness.
Spencer touches your cheek. You let him turn you mostly because he’s surprised you, his eyes roving up and down your face with a fawning curiosity. 
“You’re beautiful. You know that already, but people don’t tell you enough,” he says, his hand falling from your cheek. 
“Spencer,” you say softly, “let’s get you home.” 
You thank Milly for her help and grab Spencer’s bag from the floor to hang on your shoulder. You’d make a joke about how heavy it was if you didn’t think he’d take it from you, and, considering how drunk he is, topple over from the imbalance it provides. His shirt is clammy where you push your hand through his arm to link them, his footsteps wobbly. 
“I didn’t want to go on a date,” he says. 
“Then why did you go?” you ask, helping him over the door jam into the long hallway. 
“I don’t want to be alone forever.” 
“Spencer, you won’t be.” It doesn’t feel like the best time to bring up how much you like him. You’re sure he thinks you’re kidding, doesn’t everybody? Don’t torture him, they say. Don’t toy with him. Every time you flirt with him the team acts like you can’t mean it, and for a while it worked for you; you weren’t in love with Spencer. You weren’t playing with his feelings, but you didn’t love him, and then you joined the team and got to know him, watched him fluster at every comment you made or under any soft looking and realised you could love him. It was easy to fall for him. You liked doing it. But now he’s determined to write your affection off as a joke and going on dates? 
In the morning, when he’s sober, you’ll have to tell him how you feel. Or you could let him find someone more like him… ugh. It’s such a mess. 
You grapple with the size of your feelings for him as he hums and laughs his way down the hall to the glass door. On the street, he squints and straightens his back, fighting to regain his arm from your hold to cover your shoulder instead. “It’s cold,” he says in surprise. “You okay?” 
“I’m fine, I got my jacket. It’s a short walk, come on.”
His arm stops acting as protection and starts to use you for support. “I didn’t mean to drink so much.” 
“Drowning your sorrows is always a terrible idea because it tends to work,” you lament, less scared of the dark with him at your hip, though what protection he might offer is negated by the alcohol. 
“She kind of looked like you.” 
You squeeze your eyes together quickly. “Oh.” 
“I didn’t know she was going to. But she didn’t– she didn’t– it’s hard to talk. She didn’t listen like you do,” he says, lightly slurring, “she just stared at me like everyone used to in high school. Like she could tell there’s something wrong with me.” 
“Spencer, there’s nothing wrong with you.”
“I know,” he says. 
“Do you?” 
“Yes.” He frowns. “No, I don’t know. I don’t feel like there’s something wrong with me,” —his voice turns to a nearly indistinguishable mumble— “but everyone else always does.” 
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.” 
“Is that why you make all your jokes?” 
“What jokes, babe?” 
“Like that! Like babe. It’s funny ‘cos you’d never date me.” 
You’d slow if he weren’t already walking at a snail's pace. “That’s not true. Let’s talk about it in the morning, okay?” 
“I won’t remember to ask you in the morning.” 
“Spencer, you remember everything.” 
He drags his feet. “I wish I wasn’t so weird,” he whines. It’s playful at the forefront but desperate otherwise, and it gives you pause. “I wish I was normal, and you could like me normal.” 
You look down at your hands, panicking, a flash of Is this a good idea? like an alarm in your head as you turn on the sidewalk to face him. He’s looking at you like he’s begging you to disagree with him. 
You’re happy to. 
“Spencer, I like you like this,” you insist loudly. His eyes and all his sweet lashes track the movement of your hand as you touch your chest, and your neck. “You’re not normal, I’m not normal. Do you know how many times I’ve been rejected? Just for being me? I’m too bossy, too outspoken, too– too high maintenance. I've had friends with good intentions tell me I need to lower my standards, need to relax, because otherwise I’m going to end up alone for the rest of my life. I feel alone all the time.”
“But you’re perfect,” he says, puzzled. 
“To you. And you’re perfect to me.” Your hand crawls to the base of your throat. “So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. You think I’d come and get anybody else in the middle of the night dressed like this?” you ask him, gesturing to your ratty pyjamas and your dingy converse. 
“You look so cute,” he says mournfully. 
You roll your eyes. He’s too wasted for this conversation. “Come on, sweetheart. You can think about this too much in the morning. Let’s just get home in one piece.” Physically and emotionally. 
“Can I come home with you?” he asks. 
That had always been the plan. “Ask me nicely and I’ll consider it on the way.” 
— — 
Spencer shuts his eyes, hands itching to clap over his ears as you scratch the head of a spatula across your frying pan. “Is three eggs too many? People usually have two but that’s never enough for me.” 
“I think…” Oh my god the metal screeching is so loud. “You should have as many as you want. You know your body. There’s this study on intuitive eating…” I'm too hungover for this. “Three eggs is better than two.” 
“So you want three?” 
He cannot eat right now. “Yes. Please.” 
Spencer’s half sick with dehydration and half grief. He stayed at your house last night and he was too drunk to be nosy. He slept in your bed. He slept in your bed. He woke up to you at your vanity doing your hair, the nutty smell of hair oil mixed with the heat of the hair tool on high and realised with a start that he’d missed something he thought about all the time. 
You’d tipped your head back to smile at him. “There’s my boy. Sweet dreams?” 
He didn’t dream, but if he had, it would’ve been another agonising wish where you were his girlfriend, or his wife, or just there looking at him with love. He wakes up feeling sick because it isn’t true. And now you’re making him breakfast, humming a tune under your breath, sourdough sizzling under the grill and a shoddily blended avocado sitting in the bowl in front of him. 
You asked him for one thing. He picks up the fork and starts to mash the avocado again. He can’t fight the foreignness of sitting in your kitchen, a gap in his memory. 
He knows he told you about his date, how she looked like you, how she didn’t seem to like him much, but he’s struggling to collect the finer details. Why had you picked him up? He must’ve called you, but you could’ve said no. He remembers thinking you looked beautiful, but he always thinks that. 
The avocado is making him feel sick. 
“Here,” you say, sliding a plate of toast in front of him. “Do you want butter?” 
“I think I'm gonna throw up.” 
“You’re okay.”
“I can’t believe how I acted,” he says, pressing his palms to the hollows of his eyes. 
You turn off the hob. Fat bubbles and pops until it’s cooled. The clock on the wall by the refrigerator ticks incessantly. His slept-in shirt feels too tight despite the undone button. 
“Hey…” You round the island but don’t touch him, your voice gentle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 
He drags his hands down his face. “I can barely remember what I said.” 
“You were really nice to me… told me I looked pretty without my makeup, n’ that I was perfect. You were really nice.” 
Your tone is off. No flirtatiousness, no endless confidence, you sound wistful, like you’re glad he said it. You take the bowl of avocado he’s made a mess with and put it aside with the toast, resting your arm on the counter, and leaning into his space. “Spencer, last night? You didn’t do anything to be embarrassed of. You were nice, and kind. You tried to open the car door for me and you almost lost your eye, but you were fine. You don’t have anything to be worried about, really.”
“But it’s you.” 
“Gonna touch your hair,” you say, giving him enough time to move away as you reach out and rake back his fringe. His heart leaps into his mouth. “You said something last night like that, you know? Do you remember that? You said if you were normal.” You grace the skin beside his eye with the tip of your thumb, your perfume floating his way as you move. “And I said–”
“I’m not normal,” he says, remembering now. 
You’re not normal, I’m not normal, you’d said.
But you’re perfect, he’d said. 
To you. And you’re perfect to me.
“Right. We’re not normal, Spencer Reid, so forget that girl. She didn’t deserve you anyways,” you say. 
You draw a short, silken line down his cheek with the side of your pinky. To be touched so lightly has his stomach in knots —he’s not shocked by the swiftness with which your affection can make a bad situation good again. 
You turn away. “Now we should eat before everything goes cold.” 
He watches your shoulders move, and he remembers one last detail. So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. 
The way you’d said it… you couldn’t really mean…
“How’s your appetite? Still feeling sick?” you ask. 
Spencer smiles to himself, the ghost of your touch glowing warm on his cheek. “I’m feeling a lot better, actually.” 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading!!! please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed, i appreciate anything and it always inspires me to write more<3!! my requests are pretty much always open for bombshell!reader (even though this one strays a bit from their usual story haha) so if you wanna see more let me know❤��
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roturo · 7 months
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ OH! SO YOU'RE INTO OLDER MEN?
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˚₊·➳❥ JJK MEN SHOWING YOU HOW A REAL MEN FUCKS! satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, toji fushiguro ✧˚ · .
tags: afab!reader, reader is mentioned as a female, use of nicknames (baby, princess, doll, slut, whore), cheating, degradation, caught cheating, getting caught, unprotected sex, blowjob, pussy slapping, mating press, breeding, age-gaps, virginity loss [...] rbs are appreciated!
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satoru gojo (Daddy’s girl)
well, that’s the word he used for the little girl you're babysitting right now. he’s a great dad and husband. there’s just this tiny whiny little thing he couldn’t do right– and that’s loving his wife as he should.
like– it’s not that he doesn’t feel guilty, it’s just… well, you looked really cute in that mini dress, he and his wife have been fighting lately anddd– he could tell his daughter liked you more than her fatality of mother she has these days. she even called you mommy by accident once! and that was the last water drop gojo needed for the glass to break.
“Oh- I bet you’d love to be full of me right now.” His thrusts became messier each time he pounded on you, “Mhh, fill you up ‘n make me a daddy again– you’d like that princess?” you couldn’t even talk anymore with how good he’s making you feel– he had your legs pressed on the bed thanks to his arms, almost bending you in half, he was making sure that mating press works.
“Ffffuckk- You feel s’good baby” He felt your walls clenching again, no matter how many times he made you come, he’s making sure you’re coming again after he does. A not ending cycle for him. “Such a slut for me hm? Coming all nice and pretty to this house just to be ruined at night–” his words made you feel dirty, but the euphoria of it was stronger, “such” slap, “a nasty” slap, “slut” slap– “and all f’me” with those last thrusts your body couldn’t take it anymore, spasming and trembling while your poor hole was filled up again. gojo’s wife didn’t even bothered to break your little encounter, she suspected it long time ago.
all that was left was a wide grinning gojo satoru and some divorce papers.
suguru geto (Daddy’s best-friend)
you didn’t intend this to happen… you always knew your dad’s best-friend was hot. he’s geto, ‘cmon. he brings a new girl every weekend whispering in your dad’s ear swearing she’s the one this time.
he saw you grow up, turn into this beautiful and strong woman. so how he couldn’t love you? you were like a doll for him, so beautiful and radiant in every way. a porcelain doll he needed to protect, he couldn’t lose you to any dangerous or stupid man, he swears he would beat the shit out of the guy who breaks your heart first.
“Shhiiiitt– Heh– I can tell how tight your pussy is princess–” His cock was stretching the living shit out of you, touching places never in a thousand years you could imagine you would feel. “what d’ya think daddy would say if he saw his little girl being fucked by his best-friend huh?” your brain was a fuzzy mess, you couldn’t make coherent words to say, and just feel how good geto is making you feel. you couldn’t remember how many times he had made you cum with his toungue and he’s just starting to fuck your pussy.
“ ‘m such a lucky guy if i'm the first you’re giving this pussy to, don’t ya think so doll? marking it as mine, baby I swear you’ll need no man to ever fuck this pussy of yours again– shit I won’t need another woman for myself, you’re the one baby” those words filled your heart of a tingly feeling, making more butterflies roam around your tummy, touching yourself you could sense geto’s cock coming and leaving with every thrust, your brain full of air and in need of more of his cock.
he couldn’t resist himself anymore when he was next to you, his cock would get hard the minute he enters your house, and thankfully he has a pretty doll to release himself with.
kento nanami (Big Boss)
Nanami thinks he’s a good and mature guy– At least for his wife and kids… He has this aura of a serious and mature guy but inside every time he’s just this close to breaking it, just to say what he really thinks or feels.
the first time he saw you at work with your tiny skirts and tight blouses he didn’t mind any type of attention to it, you were another cute worker, that’s all. One of another– he can think other women are pretty too right? maybe even prettier than his wife… and nicer, and cuter, and more homely feeling to be a mom. but he wouldn't do anything he would later regret right?...
“You’re s’pretty baby, such a dirty whore for my cock mhm?” he had you pounding from behind, his desk becoming even messier than it was before, one of his hands keeping you laid down on the desk arching your back like if he’s trying to break it– a sudden ringing brought you back from your unconsciousness of nanami’s cock– he answered the call, not a single sing of him trying to stop thrusting into you.
“Yeah?” his voice was out of breath, almost sounding like a sigh when he answered the call, “Where am I? Huh– I’m at the office r-right now…?” he wasn’t even sure if he could keep this act, losing himself more in the feeling of your pussy clenching on his cock– “Oh yeah- I’m okay, uhh- the kids? yyeah, yeah, they’re with my mom right now–” the feeling of keeping up a call with his wife while fucking you made his cock twitch inside of you, feeling like a teenager kissing their crush for the first time. it was no surprise for him that his wife was cheating, but he wanted to keep it like that for the sanity of his kids. 
“Quit the act Kento– I know you’re fucking somebody else right now. See ya at home.”
toji fushiguro (Step-Daddy)
you hated when your mother started dating new guys. they just kept breaking her heart– but you just stopped telling her that it's okay to live without a partner, that she had you by her side, but well… this new man was something else i guess and you didn’t say anything for the sake of your own good mother.
you didn’t like him, but for the sake of your mother you pretended like you do– and let’s be honest, toji doesn’t like children, so when he first met you he wasn’t as social as others… your mom was just too good to simply let go– but the way you moved, talked, dressed caught his attention, and as time passes and he spends more time with your mom– he's no longer drawn to your house just to see your mother, but to see you. 
“Sshhiit- You’re making me feel s’good baby” the lack of air was making you feel giddy, but the way his cock twitched inside your mouth made your core get even wetter. “C’mon baby, ride my shoe,” you wasted no time before your hips started moving, trying to gain some friction and release that tingly feeling coming from your core. 
“D’ya think your mother would like to see her daughter being full of his step-daddy’s cum?” he gets one of his arms behind himself trying to gain some support while his other free hand caresses your cheeks while you continue sucking– this same hand moves out your head and frees his cock out of your mouth, a small strand of saliva connecting your mouth with it–
“Fuck– guess i choose the wrong out of you two”
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kathaynesart · 22 days
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The eye of the hurricane. I like to think Cassandra sometimes called the brothers by the nicknames their dad used, given they were probably pretty close before his passing.
BEGINNING || PREVIOUS || NEXT (SOON) MASTER POST
Man oh man, this one was way messier and off model than my last few updates but whatever, we got to keep this ball rolling! Life's been crazy so I've had to take some unwanted breaks in between updates. Thanks everyone for your patience as always!
One thing I wanted in this flashback was to really get a sense of how the brothers worked as an experienced team with Leo at the helm as a proper leader. It's something we never got to see much of in Rise and I felt it was important to include since half the team is already gone by the time of Replica. Team Dynamics Ted Talk under the cut!
We know from Casey Jr that Leo stressed the importance of listening to your team. A big part of that also means knowing how to communicate with them in general.
With Michelangelo, he keeps it short and succinct, trusting his brother to know what he's doing when in his element. This trust goes a long way with Mikey, having spent years of his youth as the baby striving for the respect he felt he deserved. Leo knows it's best to not bog Mikey down with details, allowing him to improvise as needed. This unspoken freedom has only grown over time as Mikey has dipped deeper into spiritual arts that, frankly, go completely over Leo's head.
The greatest sacrifice Leo has ever made was read Donnie's Big Book of Bad Guy Codes. While he doesn't remember ALL the numbers, he has memorized the ones that matter and it has helped tremendously in avoiding miscommunication with his genius brother. More importantly it silenced any of Donnie's usual belly-aching. As Leo's "twin"/"equal" the two still butt heads from time to time. Donnie respects his brother's authority (mostly) but will still push the boundaries of what he's allowed on a semi-regular basis. Give Donnie an inch and he will take the mile and then find a loop hole that allows him to go twenty miles more. This is partially due to him often being the one left behind at HQ, making the turtle just a TAD stir crazy. Leo does his best to keep him in line regardless.
Big brother Raph will forever and always be big brother to Leo. As such he holds a place of authority in Leo's heart and is someone he still regularly seeks counsel from in both the ways of leadership and more. Raph is always happy to support his younger brother and does a surprisingly good job (albeit after years of practice) of walking the line so as not to step on his brother's toes in the process. At least not since the secret of "the Key" blew up in their faces several years ago. They don't talk about that anymore. Leo is the leader now and he's done a great job in recent years as far as Raph is concerned. He trusts him to make the right call. The two have a close bond and regularly use mind meld to quickly communicate rather than speak ...this will be important to remember for the future.
Hope that overall feeling came through for this group!
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The Daycare
Danny moves to Gotham after Lady Gotham themselves asks for his help.
Gotham's natural ecto has been deteriorating, and considering ecto was what held everything in existence together safely this was a major problem for Lady Gotham.
If Gotham got too bad it would spread to the rest of the world, and could cause it to cease to exist entirely.
So Danny came, as the Ghost King he had the power to filter in great amounts of the corrupt ecto just by being in the city.
But part of his obsession was protection & helping, Gotham already had a lot of help (Batfam). So he decided to focus on helping not with the problem at the top (villains), but with the problems at the bottom.
The problems at the bottom that would be the root cause in breeding more problems.
After all, many didn't start evil, but need and desperation pushed them towards that path.
So Danny moved to the worst part of Gotham, The Bowery.
What did he do there?
Why open a Daycare of course!
Many parents could not get a good or stable job simply because they needed to look after their kids and could not afford to pay the daycare fee.
Danny wasn't worried about money after all the coffers that he inherited as king would take forever to even make a dent in it, and that's only if he was living a very lavish lifestyle everyday for several human generations.
With this in mind his Daycare fee was pretty much nothing.
He would take care of the children of a very wide age group, while the adults could focus on getting a decent job or even returning to school for a higher education for better opportunities.
How does he care for so many children?
He duplicates himself of course!
At least in the very beginning, after a while he begins expanding his Daycare offering classes and tutoring to the children as well as free food at all times.
Who's helping him ?
His ex-rouges and other ghosts who volunteered.
Lunch Lady absolutely adores having so many people and kids to make food for, and Box Lunch can socialize and play with the other kids while she works.
Ember even volunteers to be the music teacher!
Danny has the help of many ghosts who once they heard his plans were very excited to help, many having the obsession with teaching children or in general. Other ghosts helped with building, expanding, and just generally helping maintain the building in great shape. Even building a very diverse and fun playground.
Of course all this catches the attention of Red Hood. Danny just appears one day on his territory with many others and practically having a building appear out of nowhere with how fast it was built, asking literal pennies to take care of the children, and free food for anyone who asks.
All that gains a lot of attention and is rather suspicious.
But the crime rate has been going down since he opened, which is a good thing.
But many people don't want good things and decide messing with Danny and his Daycare.
Unfortunately for them cuz Danny is absolutely down for violence if he's protecting what's his.
~
Villain: "What a lovely place you have here would be a shame if something were to happen"
Danny who has the audacity to fight Gods and win: "Someone call an ambulance! But not for me!
Also Danny: "These hands are rated E for everyone"
~
Other people:"Should we call someone for help?"
The ghosts:" Nah, let him have his fun he needs his enrichment"
~
Red Hood: "He's very suspicious"
Danny is absolutely covered in paint and singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star with the young kids: "Ah yes I'm totally doing normal Gothamite behavior"
~
Lady Gotham is having some self care spa time she's having a grand time: "Should I warn the young king of the other halfa (Jason)? Hmm best not, it'll be more entertaining if it happens naturally"
~
Just an Idea
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on-my-vigilante-sht · 4 months
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Competing With Gods
Luke Castellan x Aphrodite!Reader, Apollo x uninterested!Reader
Request: Hi could you write luke castellan x reader, where Luke gets jealous of a guy who tries with y/n? How would he react if y/n is at the game? Thank you
Summary: When Apollo is sent to camp as a punishment, he sets his sights on Luke's girlfriend.
Warning: Fighting, jealousy, making out, the slightest allusions to/implied smut, Apollo being a dick
Word Count: 3k
Masterlist
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A/N So instead of another camper or whatever, I’m making the other guy Apollo.
Apollo crashed into the ground of Camp Half-Blood. Right in the middle of all the cabins. Great. He briefly cursed Zeus for this. He was being punished for flirting with a nymph the big guy was interested in. And when Apollo had told his father to maybe focus on his wife, Zeus banished him to Camp Half-Blood for a few weeks as a “warning.”
The Half-Bloods began to peek out of their cabins but one girl was already rushing over. Her hair fell over her shoulder so nicely as she kneeled over him. Okay, maybe camp wouldn’t be so bad. She gave him a concerned look. “Are you alright?”
“Now that you’re here,” he immediately started flirting. He enjoyed the way she immediately became flustered and jumped to his feet. She looked up at him in bewilderment. She saw him fall. She wasn’t a daughter of Apollo but he should have been suffering from at least a few broken bones. “I’m Apollo,” he clarified with a proud smirk. By now all the other campers within the vicinity were near enough to hear and kneeled. The girl did too, kneeling with a lowered head. He reached out a hand to her. She took it hesitantly, standing up. “Who are you, gorgeous?”
She became further embarrassed. How do I bring up Luke? She briefly wondered. “Y/N. Daughter of Aphrodite.”
“I should have known,” the god flirted. “What with those mesmerizing eyes.”
“Lord Apollo,” a voice interrupted him. He turned, finding Chiron trotting over. “My apologies, I was just notified of your arrival.”
“No worries,” the god smiled. The nice thing about not being around gods is that you get called things like Lord.
“Please,” Chiron began, gesturing over to a big house, “let me show you around. Your father has a few requests for you whilst here.”
“Of course he does,” he rolled his eyes. He turned back to the girl. “I’ll see you around, gorgeous,” he winked.
As he left all the campers were left in shock. Especially Y/N. And even more so, her boyfriend. Luke went up to her, finding her still in astonishment. “Sooo… that was weird,” he began, trying to not show his jealousy.
“Yeah,” she breathed. “Was Apollo just flirting with me?”
“Yes!” Silena gushed as she ran up to her best friend/half-sister. “Oh my gods, a god is interested in you!” She then seemed to notice Luke and remember their relationship. “Oh- uh. Sorry, Luke.”
He just gave her a tight lipped smile.
“Oh my gods, what am I gonna do?” Y/N asked, clearly stressed out.
Luke shrugged, again trying not to show his jealousy. “Not much you can do. It’s not like you can tell him to leave you alone.”
“If you really don’t want him then you can tell him you have a boyfriend. And a sister,” Silena suggested with a raised eyebrow.
Her sister laughed. “I was trying to think of a way to mention Luke. And Silena, you’re 16.”
“He looks 18!” she insisted.
“Even if he was actually 18 I’d say he’s too old for you. Come on, the bathroom still needs to be cleaned after Drew decided she wanted to dye her hair black.”
“Yeah well, she’s crying now because she wants to be blonde again,” Silena explained as the sisters walked back to their cabin.
Feeling mildly ignored, Luke yelled after them. “I’ll see you at dinner!”
Remembering her boyfriend, Y/N ran back to him, pressing a peck on her lips. “Sorry. I’ll see you later.” He watched her go, trying to not think about it too much. She never forgot to kiss him goodbye but he tried to chalk it up to the fact that she was shocked by Apollo’s appearance.
~
That evening at dinner everyone had noticed the “new camper” sitting at the Apollo table looking very unhappy. Chiron stood up and called everyone’s attention. “As you all know, we have a very honored guest staying with us for a while. Lord Zeus had requested that we treat him as we would any other camper.” As he finished he gave us all a long, hard look as if to say, “Don’t get yourself killed when his immortality is restored.”
Once dinner finished, everyone was at the bonfire. Luke sat on the ground, his back resting up against a log. His girlfriend was leaning up against his shoulder, her legs over his lap. His free arm would occasionally swipe the mosquitos away from her with his other arm supporting her weight. They were talking to a few other campers when Luke let his gaze fall onto Apollo. Some campers, mostly girls from Aphrodite, sat around the god, looking at him with cartoon hearts in their eyes. He knew for a fact Y/N had told them to stay away as a. they were all minors and b. he was a god and she didn’t want to deal with their broken hearts.
When Apollo’s gaze fell on the girl in his lap, Luke tightened his grip protectively. He knew it was ridiculous. Y/N would never cheat on him and he knew she’d slap any guy who tried anything, immortal deity or not. But he couldn’t help but be worried. Hell, he had nearly punched an Ares camper last year and that kid wasn’t a god. And Apollo was known for his womanizing ways.
He tried to shake it off and go back to his conversation but his brain was still stuck on Apollo. “Hey,” he whispered so softly that only the girl in his lap could hear. She turned and he immediately kissed her. She kissed him back briefly but pulled away, not a huge fan of PDA especially in front of the entire camp. But Luke persisted, gently holding her cheek and kissing her deeply.
When she finally pulled away for breath she looked at him quizzically. “What was that for?”
He smiled and shrugged. “What? I can’t kiss my girlfriend?” She just smiled, pushing his head away jokingly before going back to her conversation. But he was looking at Apollo again, hoping the god saw that kiss. If he did, he was playing it off.
Later that night, when the fire was extinguished and he had kissed the Aphrodite counselor goodnight several times, Luke was trying to sleep. Keyword: trying. Normally the several snores or creeks of the Hermes cabin didn’t bother him, but he was so on edge thinking about Apollo’s flirting, that every noise jolted him awake. He couldn’t stop thinking about how Apollo had immediately begun to flirt with Y/N and how she had seemed to forget him for a moment.
Frustrated, Luke crept out of bed. As he opened the cabin door, he checked for harpies keeping watch but found none. So he went to the Aphrodite cabin, knocking on the window right above Y/N’s bed. It took a few tries but eventually, she poked her head up, gesturing to shut up and that she’d be out in a minute.
So Luke waited until she came around the side. “What?” she asked, still rubbing sleep from her eyes. But her hair was already falling back to the way its usual flawless look, courtesy of being Aphrodite’s daughter.
“I just wanted to see you,” Luke smiled sheepishly. And make sure Apollo isn’t sniffing around. He realized he didn’t have a reason to be out here that didn’t stem from insane jealousy. She looked mildly annoyed at that so he did the only thing he could think of. He kissed her. If he couldn’t get rid of Apollo, he could completely occupy her mind. So he did the only thing he could think of. He was pushing her up against the side of the cabin, one hand on her jaw, the other around her waist.
She had no clue where this came from but she gave in nonetheless. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply.
After a few minutes of making out, she finally managed to push him away enough to get a deep breath in. “What was that for?” she asked, both of them still gasping for air.
Luke smiled, grabbing her by the hips to pull her closer. “‘Cause I love you.” He pressed the lightest kiss to her nose before stepping away abruptly. “Night, see you in the morning.” And with that, he walked away the happiest demigod in all of camp.
The daughter of Aphrodite still just stood there, completely taken off guard. The only thing that snapped her out of her daze was the faint caw of a harpy, making her quickly scramble inside. Luke ended up getting his wish as that night, the only thing on her mind was that kiss.
~
The next day was Capture the Flag day. When Chiron announced it at dinner that night, everyone lost their minds. It was Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite, Hephaestus, and Poseidon vs. Ares, Apollo, Demeter, and Dionysus.
As the couple was walking over to their cabins to get their armor, Apollo caught up with them. “See you out there, Y/N,” he said as he passed with a wink.
“S-see yah?” she called back hesitantly.
Luke was frustrated but at least she didn’t seem flattered by his flirtations. Now she was just confused.
Once they grabbed their chest plates, then went back to the creek where they’d be starting the games. As Luke put his on, she was struggling to get hers tightened. “Hold on, I’ll help you in a sec,” he said, finishing strapping his onto his body.
“I got it,” a voice interrupted. Apollo seemingly appeared out of nowhere. He was standing in front of Y/N, tightening the strap.
“Hey!” Luke yelled without thinking.
Apollo held up one hand in surrender, the other still on her shoulder. “Chill man, I’m just helping.” Luke didn’t say anything else as Apollo walked away with a slight smirk.
“Hey,” Y/N said softly, stepping closer to him. “What was that about?”
Luke gritted his teeth. “Nothing. C’mon, I need to assign everyone and talk strategy.” He took her hand gently, reminding himself to not let his anger get the better of him. He headed over, gathering the team. “Alright, Cabins 6, 3, and 11 will be offense. Cabins 9, 10, and 12 will be defense. Except for Y/N, you’re with me. Beckendorf, you’ll also be offense.” He pointed out a few Athena and Hermes campers, directing them to defense as well.
After a few minutes, the conch blew and everyone was in their places. The couple quickly jumped over the creek, slipping through the Apollo cabin’s defenses. They had done this so many times, their routine was well practiced. They ran through the woods, searching for any opposing defense.
The other teams had learned that Y/N and Luke always worked as a pair so they started also pairing defensive players. That is when Hermes and Aphrodite were on the same side. If they weren’t, Capture the Flag could go on for hours since they knew all of each others’ tricks.
They continued on, occasionally making quick work of disarming opposing campers until they reached the flag. It was only guarded by one person. Apollo. Clarisse must have figured that everyone else would be too afraid to offend a god. But Luke was honestly looking for this opportunity.
So while Y/N fell back, hesitating, Luke was jumping at the god. Apollo blocked him with a sword but he was clearly not very good with it. Archery had been banned since before Luke got to camp. Even though the arrows were enchanted not to kill, someone had been blinded so Chiron banned them forever. He didn’t even make an exception for the god of archery.
While Luke fought Apollo, Y/N was grabbing the flag. “Luke!” she yelled, waving the flag. She then took off, heading for their territory. Because of Apollo’s inexperience with the sword, Luke was easily beating him. After a few slashes on the god’s arms, legs, and even face—nothing major, they were honestly just cuts a band aid could fix—Luke was disarming him. He didn’t have to be as brutal as he was or knock him over but he did, throwing the god’s sword far away before following after Y/N.
Luke was still a few feet behind her when she hopped over the creek into safety. He watched proudly as she ripped the helmet off her head and held the flag up triumphantly. The members of their team around her cheered triumphantly as the conch blew and their team was announced the winners.
Luke was still in enemy territory, watching her have her moment when Apollo showed up. “She’s really something,” the god announced, his smile focused on her.
“Yeah, my girlfriend really is incredible,” Luke said pointedly.
The god was still smiling. “I know she’s your girlfriend. I saw you making out with her last night.”
“What were you doing out at two a.m.?”
The god looked even more smug, his arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t have to answer to you. But if you must know, I had the same idea as you but you got there first.” Luke finally looked at him, rage once again filling his body. So he wasn’t paranoid. “How long have you been together?”
Luke was confused but answered nonetheless. “Uh three years,” he answered suspiciously.
“Aw, three years down the drain. I’m sorry in advance,” the god said in exaggerated regret.
Luke tried not to let his fury show. This is why he hated gods. They thought they could do whatever they wanted without regard for mortals. “Well, she loves me. At night she swears we were made for each other,” he said, recalling sweaty nights during the school year when every other Aphrodite kid was home. And how they’d make breathless promises of eternity.
Apollo gave him an almost pitiful look. “I’m sorry about your relationship but you can’t actually believe she’ll pick you when she could have a literal god?” he gestured to himself arrogantly.
Now it was Luke’s turn to gloat. He just shrugged, “I’m the one she calls for. She doesn’t call for the gods like most others would. She only ever says my name.”
Apollo was a little taken aback by the kid’s boldness. “Well, that’s the nice thing about being a god. I can make anyone mine.” And with that Apollo headed over to the capture the flag winner of the night. It took everything in him not to race up to her but he kept his composure. She’d have to reject him on her own, he couldn’t keep running defense.
He watched in surprised satisfaction as Apollo reached her. He congratulated her before pulling her into a hug. His arms were around her waist and creeping kind of low but Luke once again kept his resolve. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until she pulled away quickly, pointing over at him. What was she saying? Was she praising him for fighting the god? Or telling him that she had a boyfriend?
Apollo tried to hug her again but she ducked under his arm, running over to him. He immediately broke out into a smile. Her arms were opened to hug him but he just grabbed her face to kiss her instead. He turned her towards the tree he had been leaning on, pressing her up against it again. He only pulled away slightly to whisper a congratulations but then their lips were connected again. When he finally pulled away, he threw an arm around her shoulder, shooting a look to the god before heading off to their celebration.
That night as they were celebrating, Luke was glued to Y/N’s side. It wasn’t until some of the other Hermes boys needed help getting their illegal video game working again that Luke left her side. “I’ll be back,” he promised her, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead.
As soon as Luke was gone, Apollo was swooping in. “Congratulations again,” he said, handing her a drink.
“Thanks,” she smiled nervously, taking the drink. “How are the cuts?”
Apollo shrugged. “They sting more than I would’ve thought but they’re fine. Your boyfriend’s a hell of a fighter.”
“Yeah,” she chuckled, relieved that he was acknowledging she had a boyfriend.
“I mean, he’s good for a mortal. He’s certainly no god,” Apollo flirted.
“Well, none of us are. Present company excluded,” she laughed nervously, gesturing to him.
Apollo casually threw an arm around her shoulder. “There’s other things we’re better at,” he said, letting the implication hang in the air. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. “Have you ever been with a god, Y/N?”
She was immediately pulling out of his grasp. “I- uh… um no. I’m flattered but…” She had no clue what to say. She couldn’t just say no to Apollo. If this were any other man she’d throw her drink in his face but this was a god.
She didn’t have to say anything because Luke had seen the whole thing. As he came back he saw Apollo throw his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder and subsequently watched her back away quickly. “I told you she loves me,” he smirked before tugging her away. She gratefully pressed herself into his body.
“Thanks,” she mumbled, careful that Apollo couldn’t hear.
“Hey, you don’t have to thank me. This is kind of my job as your boyfriend.”
“Still, you basically told him to back off. Kind of bold to deny a god.”
“Yeah, well,” he began, brushing a hair back from her face, “if he smites me we’ll just have to make up for the lost time in Elysium.” She giggled, hugging him closer as they headed off to bed.
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alastorss · 3 months
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I really enjoyed the "touching Alastor's antlers" fic! Good stuff! I was wondering if I could request reader playing with his hair and braiding it maybe? Thanks for being great! Drink water and eat a snack :p
a/n: hello!! thank you for your kind words ^ ^ i hope you enjoy this fluff!
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
Alastor can't pinpoint when exactly you developed such a strange habit of playing with his hair.
He first noticed it when Angel started giving him funny looks, pointing out the braids in his hair and that they were rather charming. Of course, the Radio Demon was quick to dismiss the star's claims that they suited him.
After that, he began finding little braids in his hair with or without others seeing them first. Like, for example, he would see them when he was dressing in the morning and peering into a mirror. Or other times he would see his reflection in his deep mug of coffee. They were less of a nuisance and more of a mystery than anything.
It had to be your work, surely. No one else would ever think to do something so pointless to him. And if this were some weak attempt to humiliate him in front of his peers, anyone else wouldn't have dared.
However, he never had any real evidence that it was you messing with him.
He should probably do something about it. It would be bad for his reputation if word got out that he kind of liked the delicate work of your fingers.
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
Once he's had enough of the mystery, Alastor decides to catch you in the act.
He turns his back to you on purpose, hogging the blankets as he always does, and pretends to be asleep. And just as he expected, your hands are in his hair less than ten minutes later.
Glaring at the wall, he lets you finish whatever it is you've done to his locks before he suddenly spins around in the bed to face you.
Satisfaction fills him as you yelp, scooting back in the sheets and sitting upright fast as lightning.
"You were awake?!"
Alastor just stares at you with narrow, unamused eyes.
"So it is you!"
You swallow loudly, nervously fidgeting with the blanket as the demon sits up in bed beside you. He scrutinizes your reaction, how shy you look, and his smile softens.
"It helps me sleep," you admit awkwardly. He watches as you fiddle with your fingers, unable to meet his eyes.
Alastor sighs with an exasperated shake of the head. "You simply could have told me, darling. No need to keep such a silly little thing a secret."
You perk up at his words. "You don't mind?"
He minds less than he'd like to admit, really. It also explains why he's been the little spoon so often lately.
"Not at all."
You breathe a slow sigh of relief before you're dragged into his arms. He lets you mess around with his hair that night, too. And he stays up a bit longer until your hands fall limp against the pillow beside his head.
The next day, Angel is surprised to see that the oh-so-feared Overlord has quite a few braids left in his hair.
He decides they suit him after all.
~
taglist: @the-lake-is-calling (send an ask to be added!)
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yuwuta · 5 months
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VITAMIN ME — JUJUTSU KAISEN BOYS + SICK FIC
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featuring. gojo, toji, inumaki, nanami, okkotsu, itadori, choso, fushiguro
content. taking care of the boys/the boys taking care of you when feeling sick, all fluff, no warnings 
word count. 2.5k 
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SATORU GOJO
He doesn’t feel under the weather often, but when he does, it hits him tenfold. He’s whiny, dramatic, borderline inconsolable, and feels well within his rights to demand your undivided attention, because he’s not usually like this… sick, that is (he is usually whiny and dramatic, no illness in the world could take that away from him).
You and him both know when he’s dragging it, but you can’t help but to feel bad for him. Because when Satoru is sick, he’s sick—you feel like you need to constantly monitor all his vitals, set a timer to make sure he gets medication because he’s so cold and pale and sluggish, it’s worrisome. Of course, he finds the strength to tease you, “You worried about little old me, sweets? Don’t be—‘m gonna be fine, you know. But I hear kisses cure the flu.”
“Not scientifically proven, or peer reviewed,” you tell him, “But you know what is? Tylenol. Time for more, open up, Satoru.” 
“Will I get a kiss? Just a little one?” 
He gives you a hard time, even in sickness, but it’s only because he absolutely relishes being in your care, thinks you’re good at taking care of him; proven by the way you give in with a nod, and then a kiss after he takes his medication. He really does feel like shit right now, but with you here, caring for him, his heart has expanded ten times and a warmth spills into his chest that makes the pain insignificant. Satoru feels honored and humbled to have someone fuss over him like this—to have this concrete reminder that you worry for him and care about him and love him just like he loves you.
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TOJI FUSHIGURO 
“You gonna feed me?” Toji grumbles, sounding much less threatening with a frog in his throat, “Because there’s no way I’m drinking that.” 
You roll your eyes, lightly tapping the spoon against the edge of the mug before placing it onto the coffee table and extending your arms towards Toji, “The ginger is good for you. The lemon, too, if you wanna stop sounding like a low-budget villain anytime soon.” 
Toji’s nose scrunches—it’s almost cute, if it weren’t followed by an infuriatingly stubborn turn of his jaw, pointedly away from you and back to the television. You huff, sitting down next to him—or as close as you can get through his mountain of blankets and forcefield of pillows—carefully nursing the cup in your palms. 
Who would have thought that the great Toji Fushiguro would be so stubborn as to let a little cold get the best of him. Him attempting to suffer without cold medicine wasn’t that surprising, but you didn’t think that he’d petulantly refuse tea just because of some ginger. Getting him to take his antibiotics only worked when you told him you’d boot him onto the couch if he didn’t, but that won’t work this time, he’ll call your bluff. 
You sigh, moving a pillow to your other side and reaching over to the coffee table to redeem your spoon. You fold one leg under the other and turn your body to Toji’s, scooping tea into the spoon, giving it a soft blow, and then raising it to his face. He quirks an eyebrow when he feels the steam brushing against his skin, and turns to you with a hellish grin.
He opens his mouth, to say something slick no doubt, but you take advantage of the opportunity to shove the spoon in his mouth, “You don’t get to talk until after you finish your tea.”
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TOGE INUMAKI
Despite being a renowned insomniac and someone who is willing to throw away hours of sleep to binge watch his favorite series or complete a new game, Toge does believe that rest is the best medicine. He does take his own sleep seriously—it’s not his fault that most people consider his preferred sleeping hours to be regular waking hours.
So, even though it sounds a bit hypocritical, Toge is very firm about you resting as much as you can when you’re not feeling well. He’s quick to make a cocoon out of you in your two favorite blankets and fit you onto the couch to keep you within sight as he rummages around the kitchen to prepare your meals, and make sure that you don’t skimp out on your medication. He’s got some pretty effective homemade remedies for a killer sore throat, but cough syrup is cough syrup—he knows it tastes horrible, but if he has to force feed it to you, then so be it.
He feeds you spoonfuls of homemade broth and rice to make up for it, giggling as you scrunch your nose from the taste of the medicine. When you’re finished, he lets you tell him off and forgoes teasing you about how nasally you sound as he coerces you to lay down again. You don’t feel sleepy, but when Toge’s lips brush against your forehead, his words are like a spell that makes your eyes flutter shut, “Sleep, my love.”
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KENTO NANAMI
“It’s cold, Ken,” you whine, sniffling at the end of your sentence. Kento sighs softly, switching off the light to the bathroom and taking careful strides to the bed. He carefully sits on the edge of the bed, expression sympathetic as you complain about the temperature again.
The room is actually slightly warmer than normal per your earlier request, but he knows you still feel cold because of how high your temperature is. It's exactly why he took your blanket from you—fuzzy, and warm, and weighted would all be enticing and acceptable if you weren’t running a very concerning fever. Kento absolutely hates to say no to you, but he has to do something to break your fever. 
“I know, darling,” he nods gently, settling himself onto his side of the bed. He’d prefer to have the comfort of a heavy blanket right now, too, but he wouldn’t taunt you like that—if you have to sleep without one, then so will he. He should get you another cold towel for your forehead, but you tug on his heartstrings when you scoot yourself closer to him, nose nudging against his thigh. He smiles softly, carefully reaching to tap at your arms, “Come here.”
You shuffle upwards and into his arms, cheek pressed against his chest with your arms coming to wrap around his torso. Kento lets you melt into him and wraps strong arms around your body to keep you close—body heat will have to do for now.
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YUUTA OKKOTSU
Yuuta walks—waddles, really—with his blanket over his shoulders, mouth slightly ajar, and a box of tissue in his hand for good measure. He looks cute despite his febrile state, with his nose red and eyes wide and you have to resist the urge to coo at him.
“I thought the Benadryl would have kept you asleep at least a little longer,” you smile, turning off the heat underneath the pot.
“Something smelled good... and I got hungry,” Yuuta shrugs weakly, taking the remaining steps into the kitchen and plopping his body weight onto a stool at the island. He sniffles deeply, setting his box of tissues down on the counter, before pointing at the lowly simmering pot behind you, “Is that… for me?”
“No, it’s for my other sick boyfriend,” you grin, reaching into a nearby cabinet for a bowl. You giggle when you see Yuuta’s pouty expression, cheeks a light pink and bottom lip jutted slightly.
“It’s not nice to make fun of the ill,” he coughs. His façade is waning, already weakened by his sick state, and crumbling when you push a warm bowl of his favorite soup in front of him. You can’t help but to laugh a little louder because Yuuta’s eyes practically grow three sizes and you swear he’s salivating a little. 
He shakes away the shock, turning with a pout when he realizes you’re poking fun at him again, “You’re doing it again. Now you owe me a kiss.” 
“Do I?” you tease, taking the seat on the stool next to him, elbows resting on the counter, as you peer up at Yuuta’s flushed face. You’ll let him ride the excuse his blush being the fever for a little longer, “That’s risky. I might get sick, and I have a very cute boyfriend to take care of.”
“I’ll take care of you, too,” Yuuta all but whispers, tired eyes fluttering to your lips, “In sickness and in health, right?”
He leans down a bit and you meet him for a quick kiss, pulling away to smile, “I thought that was for married couples.” 
“I’ll fix that soon,” Yuuta smiles, satisfied. You giggle, reaching out to poke his red nose and then his cheek to turn his face back to his soup. 
“Well, then go ahead and eat and get well soon,” you muse, leaning forward to kiss his cheek, “I expect a very romantic proposal from an un-sick lover boy.”
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YUUJI ITADORI
You should have known that Nobara was going to rat you out sooner or later, if not for your own wellbeing, then for hers—because despite your roommate being a caring soul beneath her tough exterior, she is not caring enough to risk her own health because you’re sniffling all over your shared apartment; especially not before she’s supposed to go on her first vacation with her boyfriend.
On the third day of coughing, Nobara tells you she’s going to camp out with Megumi until her flight, and that Yuuji is the person she’s entrusted with her keys until she returns back from her trip. So, it’s not a surprise that a mere hour later, you find Yuuji all but barreling through your front door with grocery bags in hand, all of which he promptly drops when he hears you hacking out your lungs on the couch, quick to dart to your side and hold your cup as you shakily drink some water.
“Babe! You’re, like, super sick,” he exclaims, now sitting criss-cross on your living room floor, slowly unpacking the grocery bags for a real-time haul, “You should have told me earlier, I could have gotten you all this stuff way sooner!”
“I’m fine, Yuuji. It’s a mild cold at most,” you reassure him, smiling to yourself as he rips open a new box of Kleenex and thrusts it in your direction. He looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, untrusting of your words, before he springs up with the last grocery bag in hand.
“Well, still... I’m not a doctor, but I got all the medications Nanamin told me to get, so we’re gonna get this cold out of you in no time,” he grins, patting your head before leaning down to kiss your forehead, “In the meantime, how about some soup? Oh—I just saw a recipe for something spicy, that should help with your nose right? Or maybe ramen? Leave it to me!”
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CHOSO KAMO
You couldn’t help but to snap one more picture of Choso. You felt bad, a little bit, he was tired and sick and probably felt like crap, but he looked very cute when he was sleepy, cuddled up in fuzzy blankets from head to toe, with just enough space to expose his tired eyes and red nose. One more wouldn’t hurt. 
You smile to yourself as you look back at him, slipping your phone into your pocket and walking over to join Choso on the couch. There’s not enough room for you to sit in the seat, so you have to cotch yourself in the arm of the couch closest to his head and gently reach out to move a stray strand of hair away from his eyes. It would make for another cute picture, but you refrain, choosing to lean down and press a kiss to his forehead instead, before standing to start picking up the spare tissue and cough drop wrappers littered around him.
You always tell him he’s going to worry himself sick, and he’s managed to do just that. It was a little fun, a little cute, but mostly, you’re just happy that Choso is resting. You know that sleep doesn’t come easily to him under normal circumstances; if being a little under the weather is what gets your boyfriend to slow down and care for his body, then so be it; you’ll be there to help him out.
You’re about to head into the kitchen, when you’re stopped by a warm hand brushing against your leg. You turn to see Choso limply reaching out of your, slowly blinking awake, before weakly beckoning for you again, “Stay here,” he croaks, “Please?”
You smile, placing the gathered trash onto the coffee table, before burying yourself within Choso’s blankets. You have to do a little wiggling to get underneath him, but Choso doesn’t mind, happily resting his weight against you, eyes already fluttering closed again, not before he lets you a meek, “Thank you. I love you.”
You give him one final kiss to the crown of his head, “I love you, too.” 
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MEGUMI FUSHIGURO
“Megumi, are you… okay?” you question softly, leaning over the small restaurant table to squint at your boyfriend. You’d been watching him carefully since he’d picked you up from your house, deducing that something was definitely wrong, even if Megumi had been trying his best to hide it.
He could be quiet, but he was definitely not soft spoken, nor did he normally wince after swallowing a bite of his food. You should have known something was off from the start, when you’d held hands on your walk and Megumi’s fingers were warm, and not icicles attached to his palm.
Megumi freezes, mouth gaping slightly, before he closes it and composes himself with slumped shoulders—he’d considered keeping up his brave front, but it’d be futile at this point, so he sighs, “My throat hurts, is all,” he confesses, the hoarseness of his tired voice peeking through, “I had a fever yesterday, but it was fine this morning.”
You lean over a little more, just enough to be able to extend your hand so that the back of your palm meets Megumi’s forehead. It’s warm, to no surprise, and you find yourself tutting, recoiling your hand slightly, with enough space to flick him.
“Ow?” He groans, and you only roll your eyes. You pull back to fish through your bag, to pull out some cash and leave it on the table. Megumi begins to question you, but you’re not hearing it, getting up to sling your purse over your shoulder and grab your boyfriend by the forearm.
“You’re an idiot,” you scold, ushering him out of the restaurant, “We are going to urgent care to get you a strep test, and then to that bakery Nanami tells us not to tell anyone about to get you soup, and then you are going to sit and eat it and contemplate your actions for the rest of the evening.”
Megumi lets himself be dragged away—another tell-tale sign that he really is feeling under the weather (which is also what he chooses to blame his blush on). If “contemplating his actions,” was code word for you hovering over him for a bit, then maybe he wouldn’t mind.
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fxllfaiiry · 10 months
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─ you're the sunflower ੈ✩‧₊˚
✶ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader
✶ synopsis: everyone on the team loves you, expect miguel who seems to hate you more than anyone.
✶ warnings: angst!! major angst. sunshine!reader x grumpy!miguel. reader is nicknamed sunflower, mentions of death.
✶ notes: there's one spanish sentence in this, I'm not good with spanish so if I've made a mistake please tell me so i can fix it! part two is already up!!!
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Everyone on the team loved you from the moment you joined, everyone, except Miguel. 
You knew Miguel was cold towards everyone, but he was extra cold with you. Maybe it was because of how different your personalities were. 
You were the embodiment of sunshine, always positive in any situation, putting others before yourself. Hence why everyone calls you sunflower, it fits perfectly, Miles was proud of coming up with it. 
Miguel on the other hand was cold and distant but that didn't stop you from trying to get him to open up. You'd try to have simple conversations with him but nothing, all you would receive in reply was an eye roll or a slight grunt, but you wouldn't give up that easily. 
Like today, you got him some coffee. 
"Morning, boss. Got you some coffee." You said in your usual cheerful tone. 
"Why?" He raised his eyebrows, looking down at you suspiciously. That's the most he's said to you all week. 
"Because I wanted to." You shrugged, placing it down on his desk. 
He steped down walking towards his desk, you couldn't help but stare at him, unfortunately for you, everything about him was so attractive, it's such a shame he hated you. 
"This isn't how I like my coffee." 
"Huh?" You snapped out of your daydream at the sound of his voice. 
"The coffee, it tastes terrible. Get it from another place next time." 
"Well, actually I made it-" But he had already walked away from you not listening to a word you said. "Alright, never mind, I'll just go back to work." You mumbled hurt by his words. 
"Wait, hold on." You looked up, thinking, maybe he'll say something nice after all. 
"Yeah?" 
"Take the coffee with you, I won't be drinking it." 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
"Girl, why do you look so sad? Did Miguel do something again?" Jess asked with a frown, she did not like seeing you sad. 
"No."
"Sunflower…"
"Okay, yes." Miguel being cold towards you was normal, he never spoke to you unless necessary. Out of everyone here, he probably hated you the most, even more than Miles.  
"Sunflower, I've told you to stop trying." Jess sighed. 
"I know, I know… why does he hate me so much, Jess?" 
"That's just the way he is, don't overthink it. It's his loss, baby." She replied, gently patting your shoulder. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Today was going to be a good day, you were so sure of it. 
But, of course, you were wrong. 
Everything was going great up until a few hours ago. 
Miguel had assigned you on a mission to catch an anomaly, alongside a few other spider-people. His instructions were clear, stick to the plan and catch the anomaly. It was supposed to be simple. 
If only you didn't disobey him. You screwed up badly, and because of that, you could have been killed. 
"Why don't you ever listen?" Miguel shouted. No one had ever seen him this angry. 
"I was just tryin-" 
"¡Ay, por el amor de Dios!" Being yelled at by your boss in front of your coworkers was humiliating, everyone was looking at you with pity. 
"I'm sick of this, why can’t you follow simple instructions? Is it that hard to understand?" He barked, towering over you. 
"It's not a big deal." You tried to keep your composure, you didn't want to humiliate yourself further by bursting into tears. 
"Not a big deal? You could've died! A simple mistake would have ruined the whole mission." 
Don't cry. Don't cry. 
"But we're all fine, aren't we?" You weakly chuckled. That was the wrong thing to say because it only made him angrier. 
"Oh? If that's the attitude you have then you shouldn't even be on the team." Ouch. 
"Miguel, I think that's enough-" Hobie said, quickly jumping in. 
"Not now, Hobie." He growled. 
Never once did you think that you'd be in a situation like this. 
"If you put more focus on trying to be good at your job, rather than impressing me, we wouldn't even be here!" Oh, so he did notice that. 
At this point, tears were streaming freely down your face and you made no attempt to stop them. 
"Yep, you got it, boss." You smiled up at him through your tears. It was pathetic, but you did not care, you just wanted to leave and never come back. 
"Next time make sure this doesn't happen." 
"It won't happen next time." That's because there won't be a next time.
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