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the-halloween-jack · 25 days ago

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DC ✢ When he admitted he loved you

Characters: Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian and Clark. This is a companion piece to another headcanon called 'When he realised he loved you' linked here. Though, you can still read it independently.

B R U C E⠀W A Y N E

Bruce did not say it in a quiet moment — for such moments were rare. Though, when they did find him, he spent them with you in silence. Not with words but simply by being near, by existing in your presence.

No. It came during an argument. One of those arguments that shakes the very foundations of a relationship — not because of what was said, but because of what had never been, what was expected.

You had asked him — raw, wounded — what you meant to him. What all this was. Why he kept forming barriers between you, when all you had ever wanted to do was break through.

His answer had been frigid. Precise. Calculated and sharpened. A blade forged from old habits, Bruce wielded it with an unconscious mastery, a last-ditch defence mechanism perfected over decades.

You left. Not in fury, but in heartbreak, disappointment — the kind that does not cry, does not scream, but simply broods into silence. Your absence rang louder than a slammed door, louder than any yell you could have mustered.

Alfred did not speak. Just passed Bruce in the hallway with the kind of look that had once made him sit straighter as a boy. And now, it made him feel small once more, as though he were still a child.

Time passed and still, silence.

He found you in the garden, beneath a sky now thick with stars, the sun had still been gleaming when you had hurried away. You had not been crying. You were still. And in that stillness, he saw the damage he had inflicted upon you.

‘I can’t seem to protect what I love,’ he said, words fractured, conflicted. ‘Not my parents. Not Jason… Not you —’

You turned. Not startled by the confession, but by the break in his voice. You had never seen him like this before, never so fragile.

‘But I do. I love you. I want… I need you to know that.’

It was not cinematic. No kiss. No arms thrown around shoulders. Just him, standing before you, hollowed by an atypical honesty, praying you would believe him — even if he was undeserving of that trust.

And you did. You believed him. Bruce could see it in the ease of your countenance, in the smile that now warmed your face. But even so, he apologised as though he had committed a most heinous crime.

You pulled yourself to your feet, still wordless. And enveloped him in your arms.

‘I love you too, Bruce.’

D I C K⠀G R A Y S O N

Dick meant to say it casually — with that charming nonchalance that usually came so naturally to him. He had rehearsed it, even. Smiled in the mirror once or twice. But it never felt right, never felt adequate. It was too simple a word to describe what he felt for you.

But love, he discovered, should not wait for perfect timing.

It came unexpectedly late one evening, while a movie played in the background — some low-budget film neither of you had been truly watching. Your head was on his shoulder. His thumb was tracing invisible shapes into your side.

And then — suddenly breathless, it had grown too large to contain, he could not hold it any longer,

‘You know I love you, right?’

You blinked like someone newly roused from a dream, and looked at him as though he had spoken in a foreign language. Dick was not confident he had not.

When you remained quiet, he chuckled, uneasy. And brought his hand to the back of his neck, in a nervous, boyish manner.

‘I mean — I have. For a while. I just didn’t want to ruin it by...’ He trailed off, not quite sure what he was saying.

You remained quiet for a few moments more, contemplating. The juncture of silence stretched taut, he held his breath. And then you smiled.

As soft as the moonlight now shining through the curtains, you whispered, ‘I love you, too.’

He kissed you gently, as though he were trying to make up for all the times he had not said it sooner. In that moment, he was not Dick Grayson, he was not Nightwing or the Boy Wonder — he was simply someone lucky enough to be loved by you.

To this day, he cannot for the life of him remember the movie that had been playing. All he could remember was that smile — the way it had already lit up your eyes by the time it reached your mouth and the enthralling, glowing warmth that had flooded his system.

J A S O N⠀T O D D

You were stitching him up again — hands steady, breath shallow, a routine so familiar it hurt. Nothing fatal. Nothing new. His form was half-draped in shadow, skin cold under your touch. You sat cross-legged before him.

‘You’ve got to stop doing this,’ you murmured, not for the first time and certainly not the last.

He did not answer. Because what would he tell you? Not the truth, you would not want to hear it. Every stitched-up wound felt like proof that you cared; he could not resist the temptation. He did not believe you could love a man like him, but when he felt your gentle fingers work over his skin, he let himself consider it; he let himself yearn.

‘I’d die for you, you know?’ he muttered. Off-handed. As though it were the most obvious thing, as though it were as easy as breathing.

A frown turned your face. ‘That’s not comforting, Jason.’

And then — something unspooled. A thread that had been pulled too tight for too long. Jason sighed.

‘What I was trying to say… What I meant was… I love you —’ He looked into your eyes, gaze piercing, willing you to see the truth of it.

The words had flooded out like a barrage breaking open. ‘That’s all I’m trying to say. I’d die for you because… I can’t picture a world without you in it. I wouldn’t want to.’ He shivered at this, at the concept of a sphere you did not grace, the very notion made him ill.

You stilled. Hands held suspended above him, pausing their work.

He was not looking for a response — only a release; he had needed this off his chest. But you gave him one anyway.

‘I love you, too.’ You had uttered it so softly, had Jason not already been watching your lips, he may have missed it. His breath caught — not in fear, but in awe — as though his lungs had momentarily forgotten their most natural function.

Your words felt like electricity brimming beneath his skin — like every nerve had been awoken at once. A new fullness bloomed within his chest, as though the ribs could no longer host his heart; as if it had suddenly grown too large to contain.

He spoke up again, softer this time, ‘I’ll try to live for you too. That part’s harder. But believe me when I say I want it. More than anything.’ He gave you one of his rare smiles, and your heart jolted.

You silently placed the first aid materials to the side and leaned in, placing your head against his shoulder. After a short while you shifted, leaving scattered kisses across his fading scars, lingering on each for a moment, he felt that same electricity once more.

Your hands ghosted over him like he were something precious, as though the ruin of him was worth loving, and that was the message you were trying to convey, what you were trying to have him understand.

Jason did not sleep that night. Not out of pain or panic, but because he was afraid it had been a dream. That peace, for someone like him, was more fragile, more fleeting than any reverie; and he could not stand the idea of waking up.

T I M⠀D R A K E

You both had been working late, each focused on your own tasks, yet relishing in the silent company of one another; the peace of it. Tim sat at his desk, while you lay across his bed, legs swinging behind you with a pen in hand.

Tim had asked you to stay at the manor for the night, but you had gently refused, reminding him you had work in the morning. You got up and walked over, placing both hands on either shoulder. You then pressed a kiss to his temple and whispered in his ear.

‘I better head off now.’ He leaned his head back into you, and his eyes met yours, smiling.

And then — too casually, too instinctively — he said, ‘Okay, love you.’

The words had flowed out like a torrent. A sudden, unexpected failure in his system.

Then a silence dropped like a stone in deep water — sudden, heavy, and irreversible; absolute.

He froze. His eyes were wide, as though the phrase had been spoken by an imposter, by someone else within his skin. He had known this fact for a long time, it had only been a matter of time.

‘I didn’t — I mean — that wasn’t—well, it was, but —’ He stopped. His words crashed over each other, panicked and sputtered.

You tilted your head. Shock the dominant expression on your face.

‘You love me?’

He nodded, slowly, it would be silly to deny it; to lie. Shame crept into the corners of his expression. What if he had said it too soon? What if the word drew you away? Then suddenly you smiled, as though you had been waiting for this exact failure, this exact slip-up.

‘Well… that’s good,’ your whisper was tender. ‘Because I love you too.’

And just like that, his spiralling mind halted. His thoughts — so often a storm of what-ifs and whys — were suddenly still.

And in that stillness, something shifted.

The tension in his shoulders eased and melted away. He let out a breath he had not realised he had been holding — shaky, but smiling. It was not his usual tight-lipped smirk, nor the polite upward curve he would give strangers — this one was real. Quiet, disbelieving and full.

You leaned downward and rested your forehead against his, your hand moving to cradle his cheek. Tim leaned into it like he had been starved of its softness. You spoke through a grin.

‘Maybe I should stick around. Was that your plan all along?’

D A M I A N⠀W A Y N E⠀(Aged up as Batman)

Damian did not like the word love. Not at first. The word felt paltry. Trite. A flippant syllable never built to hold the sheer weight of what he carried for you.

You had just bested him in sparring. You always did, but only because he allowed it — Damian would sooner impale himself on his training blade than admit it, but it was not as though you were unaware. You had thought it cute, an adjective you would never dare utter to his face.

Damian had no shortage of self-pride. The fact he was willing to sacrifice it, simply to please you, always left you breathless.

You extended your hand to guide him up, but he simply stared at it from his place on the mat, his gaze shifting upward. You were standing over him, a barely contained smirk donning your features.

‘You do not understand what you mean to me,’ he said, voice low and filled with a thousand ulterior meanings, though they bled through, his tone turning earnest.

You did not speak. You simply waited.

‘This feeling,’ he tried again, ‘it disrupts everything. My training. My thoughts. My plans. Everything. It… it…’ He trailed off, not sure how to finish what he was saying, not confident that the words capable of conveying these feelings were extant across any vernacular, it seemed too implausible.

You smiled, faintly. ‘You mean love?’

He flinched like you had cursed. But then — after a moment — he nodded.

‘Yes. That.’ It was not enough, but he figured he would concede. ‘I feel it. Unwillingly. But truthfully.’

You laughed, it was warm and bell-like. It struck something tender in him, something still learning to hope.

‘I love you too, Damian.’

How was it, that word he had held with such contempt, such scrutiny and scepticism, was suddenly so weighted, so gorgeous uttered from your lips? How was it so impactful now it was directed towards him?

He looked away, not from shame, but from overwhelm. He had fought assassins, atrocious criminals, and the weight of his father’s legacy — but never had he felt something as all-consuming as being wanted, as overwhelming as the thought of your love.

C L A R K⠀K E N T

He had told you on a rooftop. Not because it was histrionic, but because it was distant — far above the world’s inescapable noise, yet still beneath its stars.

You were talking about something entirely ordinary. Rent, perhaps. The cost of your water bill.

But he was not listening, not truly. He watched as your lips moved and thought only of how he yearned to kiss them, to wake up to them each and every morning.

And then he looked at you. Really looked. And the words came like wind through the ether — soft, inevitable.

‘I love you.’ He had cut you off, but it needed to be said. He could not have lived another moment without these words held suspended between you.

You smiled, easy. ‘I know.’

But he shook his head. Shifting closer. There was an ache in his voice, a gravity to it.

‘No. I love you. Not in the way people say when they’re hanging up the phone. Or when they leave for work in the morning. I love you like… like…’ He paused, eyebrows furrowed, ‘I’m not sure I can put it into words —’ He places his hands on either side of your cheeks.

You stopped breathing.

‘You’ve given me something no one else has,’ he said, his voice near breaking. ‘Not because you wanted a hero. But because you saw me — as nothing more than a man. The farmboy. The one who still forgets to fold his laundry, after you’ve already asked him five times…’

You let out a sudden laugh, but it was not for his joke, your joy at his admission could not be contained; it surged out. You kissed him.

‘I love you, too.’ You murmured, Clark could hear the smile within your voice. Then he thought of the stars glimmering upon them, they shone bright, yet still somehow paled in your comparison.

I was thinking of expanding upon the Jason Todd section and turning it into its own one-shot, would anyone be interested in that? Every comment and piece of advice is welcomed and appreciated <3

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kalims · 1 year ago

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he's a ten but he...

premise. sometimes certain bad habits of theirs make their overall rating just a tad bit lower—besides the fact that they keep doing it.

characters. dorm leaders

content. gender neutral reader

malleus (doesn't have a sense of space)

"look beastie, that flower is a native of ours,"

"I agree mal, but I didn't think you taking up the entirety of my seat will make me see it better,"

he blinks, then shrugs.

like i said, has NO sense of space.

if an average person would make an excuse to constantly be in physical contact with who they admire, then malleus is the complete opposite. well, not entirely but he doesn't even bother to construct an explanation as to why he's literally sat over your seat when you coincidentally get put in a table together.

if you start questioning him about it the most you'll get in a very outright 'because he wanted to.' it's not even one of those sarcastic replies he's 100% serious!

cause he believes there's no use in lying about things to be honest.. to further emphasize that, if he ever acts like he does hold fondness for you that surpasses the platonic meter but doesn't mention it he probably hasn't realized yet.

if he did he'd already walk over and bluntly tell you about it.

(I wish I could be that unbothered.)

lilia thinks it's the cutest thing though. you swear you see flashes of light for a split second from the ceiling but when you look up there's only a suspicious swinging chandelier.

^ totally has his own album full of pictures.

if malleus ever discovers it he won't even be disturbed, probably would ask for a copy 💯

since human lives, and their bodies are so fragile he'd taken it upon himself to protect you from harm. even if it means trailing behind you everywhere way too close for comfort, or standing a bees wing away.

while he is respectful most of the time, he's encouraged if you don't comment. if anything, he seems pleased you dont seem to be bothered! (and it'll get harder to tell him to stop when he's so happy the more you let it happen..)

"child of man, have you slept?"

*starts leaning his body forward, to squint at your eyes.* practically right in front of your face.

"WTF."

not even a warning or anything! but atleast he's concerned?

idia (won't even show up for anything and insists a 'virtual' date is better.')

user: where tf r u??

ghoul666: WDYM? at the dorm?

user: IVE BEEN WAITING HERE FOR 20 MINUTES

unintentionally stood you up 💀

you literally have to tell him that you're waiting for him to arrive at the specified area you discussed where your date would take place but would end up vastly irritated when he questions if you guys even did.

ghoul666: we do??

user: I'm taking my minecraft bed away from urs.

ghoul666: NO PLS

ghoul666: HELLO????

next time you log in minecraft it's probably because he begged you to play, you WILL end up seeing some kind of structure that probably took days to make. that's not even the entire thing cause the inside is entirely decorated to your taste.

in short: he constructed some kind of venue for a wedding.. even changed his skin to wear a tuxedo 😭

though he has sparked your pettiness, hence the ignoring him period. even you have got to admit that it's freaking adorable...

big sign, emphasis on please: Im sorry pls put ur minecraft bed back I can't sleep w/o u and I have to wait entire days for it to turn into morning :(

with what he's built you're sure it's 65% true.

if you do end up forgiving him, few weeks later attempting to schedule another date will only end up in naught.

ghoul666: can we not go there

user: 😐

user: you are testing my patience love

ghoul666: 😓 (he is screeching about the term of endearment part btw KABSJAJSAJA ortho would enter his room very concerned.)

ghoul666: how abt

ghoul666: mimic together? call

user: sighs

user: I'm only agreeing cause I want to spend time with you

queue more screeching from his end that you're completely oblivious to.

the only screeching you're gonna hear though is when you guys do get into call as you play, and it's mainly out of terror when his soul gets sent to the void ascending when the entity pops out of a corner and starts chasing him.

"I GOT THIS. ILL CARRY U THIS IS FINE" *screams again* but really wants to impress you so he pushes through.

unsurprisingly does carry you.

asks to match avatars right after (idia love languange)

vil (frets over you way too much.)

"vil, did you see the chocolate in the freezer?"

"oh, that? I noticed that you've already gone through the ideal number of bars this week so I took it upon myself to make sure you don't go sick on me,"

"I love you but please give it back—"

"I love you too, and no."

disclaimer: he does this for your own good 😜 (average mom excuse.)

looks out for you more than he does for his own dorm residents. everyone is wondering where he ran off to after class, especially since he's the one that scheduled the pomefiore meeting every fridays!

and to think he was the one getting irritated over the more newer first years for being late..

*shows up literally half an hour in*

why you ask? you simply shouldn't have texted him about abandoning your daily walk together through the gardens in favor of catching sleep since you called in sick (you're suspicious if crewel really did go in to check for proof, and not concern.)

vil's really feeling the absolute regret of not checking his phone during classes.. well, he only saw the message which was coincidentally sent like somehow ONE minute after the lecture started and he's only seeing it 59 minutes later.

oh you poor thing!! though the lunch break is short, he has about 5 minutes for a trip to the mirror chamber..

you'd think the 'seen' icon below your message was a weird omen for something you're not sure but it must be doom cause vil is right at the front porch of your crappy dorm. at his own expense?! looking more disheveled than you've seen him before.

if a few stray hairs was disheveled at all. more importantly, he still looked drop dead gorgeous!

you probably looked quite terrible with the blanket draped around your shoulders looking like you just crawled out of your grave, because he looked absolutely mortified at your state.

"oh great sevens.." he looked like he was faint, huffing and fanning himself with his hand. "look at you, why didn't you tell me sooner, darling?"

you blink, swallowing to make your throat less dry but your voice still comes out raspy. "I did, like an hour ago—" without your invitation whatsoever, he steps in. promptly shutting the door behind him (which surprisingly still stands sturdy.)

vil takes a hold of your shoulders before reaching his hands upwards to tilt your face around. "you should have sent earlier," he says. you keep in the comment that you were sleeping during it, and you told him about it during second period so.. "your face is so pale."

you sigh.

"yeah, I just saw. I know, I look hideous right now."

vil frowns at you, stopping to angle your face at him. "don't ever say that. I always find you beautiful even if you are.." he glances at you from face to toe, then back up. "sickly."

"... I feel offended."

"hmph, shush now. let me draw you a bath then I know something that will boost your system."

after much coaxing in his end, you reluctantly take a warm bath in the hopefully hygienic bathroom. true to his word, vil did... concoct something. though it looked pretty the random steam that flew from it was really suspicious.

the residents don't dare to question, except rook of course. who already knew what transpired! :)

epel: 😃 (atleast vil wasn't around.)

"roi du poison~ tell me, tell me! is the trickster well? have you cured them with your love?"

"rook, you have 5 seconds to get out of my face."

rook giggles away.

kalim (thinks money will buy anything, including your forgiveness.)

"here!" there's a suspiciously bright smile on his face as he hands you.. some keys?

you deadpan, jingling it in your hands. it weighs heavy than the average, probably because of the fact that it's literally made of gold. "... kalim what is this?" you emit a sigh, from suspicion and concern.

"a gift!"

"wait why does it say lot 111--"

as you can already, that was an actual, literal house. which you imagine would probably be a lots more grand, and new compared to your old baby ramshackle.

but you do love it despite it's love for falling apart at the most inconvenient of times..

fighting with kalim was rare but it was hard to even argue with him because the notion of disagreements are so bizarre to him that he unintentionally doesn't treat you seriously with your concerns, accidentally downplaying them aaaand now you're upset.

after the ranting to jamil about how you must be busy with a lot, since you haven't even talked to him in the past 2 days. all it took was a side glance to his friend in denial and jamil immediately knew.

"what do you mean they're mad!? D:"

"just.. go apologize, I don't want to get caught up in this."

if his definition of an apology is buying you an entire house...

( ^ it is btw.)

kalim really doesn't mean any harm. he just really wants to sate whatever anger you held for him <- maybe he's overthinking it but it's kalim so he's 99% sure it's his fault! even though it hasn't even been confirmed from your end he'd probably accept it whole heartedly.

he wanted you to talk to him again so badly that he wouldn’t mind showering you with houses... since your living situation doesn't live up to your kindness (sorry ramshackle love u xx)

you know what. he wouldn't even notice he's the reason you're upset at first even though he's been asking around on who put you in that mood. despite himself being the perpetrator but he didn't really know that did he?

the only reason he does is because he assumed you were just because you avoided him like some sort of.. cockroach! (he dislikes those.) and he couldn't take it anymore.

was probably 1 sec away from barging into your dorm which wouldn't take a lot of effort since one ram to the door would probably break it.

bless jamil for jailing all the carpets so kalim doesn't find them.

even if said carpets fling him off when he's riding them.

"kalim, why would you buy a literal house... and you also got a rare address paid--"

"for them! ;D"

"... you do know they'd be more offended by the fact that you'd try to replace that.., ahem. dorm, right?"

"oh... should I buy them a vehicle then?"

you only promise to forgive him once he takes back the keys, and the house entirely...

(grim begged you to keep it, 'house for him apparently.')

azul (keeps trying to offer you discounts thinking it's a good excuse to have you over.)

"I assure you. you'll find no deal better than this."

"I'm not even that hungry for sea food, actually I'm craving some--"

"you're in luck then! ahem, it's 26% off due to a special event for today."

pro tip: keep insisting to eat at other places cause he's gonna keep increasing the discount by 2% until you eventually relent. once, you made him go to the point of 75% off, it's almost hilarious if not for the fact it only worked once.

now he won't go last 50!

ahem. if you look closely you can almost spot tiny cracks accumulating with each denial you respond with, and each increase of his discount. he's grown to be wary about the bullshit 'lucky' promos you just happen to stumble on.

last time you did he practically lost a week's worth of the presumed income he's predicted cause you actually went around and told your first year friends about it... who.. in turn told some, other friends of theirs about it and you could guess.

love must hurt.. and unfortunately it's his wallet wailing.

but azul is not so easily swayed by this! for you have swayed him first! *wink wonk*

but azul has another trick up his sleeve... keeping on roping jade and floyd into it; whom are far too enthusiastic cause finally— something fun to do! someone to bother! not only have you got the most stubborn octopus having frequent suspicious 'deals' but here are his equally suspicious lackeys.

who keeps.. talking about fried octopus..

yeah, you're not sure if preaching about azul’s species is the job they were assigned.

they're fairly easy to point in the right direction anyways. the tweels have always associated you with the word 'fun' so just a little, friendly suggestion from and they were off to their merry way. mortifying every single person you come across with their sudden attachment.

one of their tricks? following you around. and just somehow, every single place you enter is just mysteriously full even though you peered inside and there was like 7 tables empty. what are they hosting? ghosts? spirits?

...

they do look like they've seen some though..

jade rn: "a shame indeed, you must be hungry. why don't we escort you back to monstro lounge?" :)

long story short you can't even reply cause the sleek eel is already guiding you around by the use of his hands on your shoulders. just to make sure you don't stray away from the destination, he says.

"didn't you say that yesterday's promo was like, a one day thing?" you quirk a brow, and you almost fool yourself into thinking he flinched.

azul clears his throat. "well—today is.. the month before you've graced octavinelle with your assistance—"

he praises himself for his quick thinking.

COME ON! it doesn't matter if you're sick of eating stir fried shrimp, or the butter one, or every single dish they serve that includes shrimp! (also do not mention that you ate somewhere else before you just decide to visit his dorm because that establishment just mysteriously got filed a non-legal business report.)

then you've got floyd chasing you around with a fork. which is more terrifying because he's holding it in a notion that would seem like he'd just stab down at you when he catches up with your little goose chase.

it's just.. you're not sure if your stomach could take another bite of the poor food he stabbed into, and is now chasing you around with.

you screech. "JADE PLEASE."

the man shrugs. "it's a free taste."

"AZUL."

"... only on a condition of course."

frankly. it took all the balls he had to actually sputter out the most simplest sentence ever, cause during the time he rehearsed that in front of his mirror it just plagued him with embarrassment but he's getting desperate.

'I'd like to take you out to dinner, somewhere else of course.'

actually, maybe obliterating any possible craving for the food of his lounge just might've been part of his plans to ask you out..?

leona (prevents you from actually being productive via dragging you down to 'nap' every. single. time.)

"I will literally fail if you don't let go of me right now."

"hmph. so what? it's not like failing a grade killed anyone."

"leona just because you've lived through a lot of fails doesn't mean I have to, we're not all rich enough to not finish school."

to which he'd retaliate that all you'd need is to marry him and you'd be set for life.

there is no winning an argument with leona when it comes to his naps. if he states that you're to be next to him as he sleeps, its final. no buts, no retaliations, cause apparently they're all invalid according to him even if you drag him to court.

rhetorically of course, that if its a comical court scene his only statements are; 'well you're wrong', 'who cares', and 'i dont care'. one way or another he's still gonna win you over and now you're fit snugly in his arms, lamenting.

and if crowley chastises you for not doing the errands (via leona's common interference.) the only thing you need to honestly do is to complain to leona about it and suddenly crowley has the kindness to forgive you for your 'laziness' then says something about enjoying your time together?

leona's work no doubt.

you suppose he does has its perks. even if most of it isn't exactly ideal.

if you're being smart then you should give him an ultimatum or something, or bribe him. but... that really has no guarantee to work either cause you're ending up defeated, or just defeated and flustered since he's somehow unconsciously flirty.

at the end of the day you can't really hate him cause the following day you find out he sent an already sleep deprived ruggie to do your work. 'so you can shut your fussing up and let me enjoy you.' he says, and you quote.

it goes something like;

"if i finish my work i'll stick by you all day."

a stready flow of confidence keeps your voice firm as you glower down at the blank-faced leona sat on the grass. he merely tilts his head, raising a brow at you and seemingly pondering from the way his eyes fly to the sky.

you'd think that maybe your plan actually worked but he merely grunts and flops backwards, holding the back of his head with his palms as he laid. and! he ignores you.

...this little greedy man... "why should i care whether or not you finish your work?" he huffs, like the evil, arrogant spawn he is but you can't really defend yourself cause said evil spawn bewitched you so much that you actually still like him.

"because you care about me?"

"...fine," he scowls, releasing a breath you'd mistake for irritation. "then, do you really think i need you to finish your work when i can just keep you right here?"

you sulk. "i'll do anything you want?"

he deadpans as if you said something stupid. "i don't need you to anything else but sit still and be pretty."

...

see what i mean about him eventually winning you over? yeah.

next morning there's a rebellion in savanaclaw about overworked residents and ruggie is the head of them.

"he said that he doesn't need you today." <- ruggie, steering you away.

"really?" <- you, confused

riddle (overthinks TOO HARD.)

“I'm just a little busy.”

“I understand,” riddle says.

“I'm just a little busy.” he understands.

“a little busy.” its just… a small thought…

“I'm just busy.” his mind is a hazard at this point.

for someone as supposedly maintained as riddle—you'd think his mind is as composed as it is organized. like the pens you'd perfectly align in correlation to order of colors, or the neat pile of clothing folded neatly, tucked in some corner in your closet that is farther in since it's used less.

that's just how he is, or at least seems to be. a bundle of organized thoughts, every thought connected to another. a mind too clean to be going on haywire (when he isn't in a particular mood, that is.)

you're just busy. he thinks. you said it yourself, with that agonizingly nice smile that must be sprinkled with some kind of spell from the way it just eradicated all the protests in his throat upon sight. he isn't one to question it, he wants to help but not if you don't ask.

he can only stare with resigned acceptance at your insomnia induced eyes.

but when the curtain of darkness befalls night raven college, even in the comfort of heartslabyul is he still thinking about that thought–and he can’t help but wonder; why exactly are you busy? its not that he’s suddenly hyper aware of your lack of presence since you’ve been attached to the hip the previous week and now you’re just.

…busy…

riddle likes to think of himself as a level-headed, private person. like the boy he raised himself to be and therefore proud of. but its way past 10AM. which is usually the time he sleeps, and let me tell you that he’s never once broke the cycle for years. yet here he is, a frown of frustration present on his face as he wills his mind to sleep.

somehow closing his eyes felt forced, he immediately snapped them open once his mind decides to conjure an image of you even in the darkness his lids offers.

“THIS IS ABSURD.”

and the yell promptly woke up the entire dorm from the ferocity of his scream. (and of course gave them the flashback of their year.)

that night was one of the worst he’s ever had because he woke up with red rimmed eyes and a pounding headache that ensured his bad mood the rest of the day.

everyone noted to steer clear.

and he unknowingly steered clear of yours since you were ‘busy.’

“why are you sulking?” a voice queried, spoken as though they were eating something as they asked. a reprimand rises in his throat, but it all just dies down once his sharp eyes settle on you, slipping into the seat in front of him then raising a brow and the traces of irritation practically evaporates from his eyes.

he feels the need to cough–so he does. “i’m– i’m not.” he clears his throat, avoiding your eyes but still sneaking in glances, something he notes is that you’re still looking everytime he does. (and boring an unimpressed face because he knows you don’t believe him at all.)

guilt rises in his mind, because he feels a slither of annoyance and its the presence of pettiness that bothers him. riddle knows you’re not at fault, just his mind at convincing that you just somehow decided in the span of a day that you might not like him anymore–so he can’t help the bite.

“why are you here?” a glance not intended to look mean.

“i thought you were busy.” he adds.

your brows raise, he spots your teeth holding your lips back from showing your grin and he feels warm. “what?” he hisses defensively, despite you not even having replied to him yet.

he leans backwards, straightening up in his seat when your chin leans forward, resting on your intertwined fingers. you flash him a smile.

“mr. rosehearts, are you perhaps… sulking because i’m busy?”

“no!”

silence.

“no.” he repeats, weaker.

“well,” you continue, beaming. “i heard from ace that you were awake the entire night, and that you kept him awake too. are you alright?”

he sputters. “it wasn’t because of you!”

you snort. “i didn’t even say anything about me.”

so you incline to following riddle around, poking fun at him and still trailing after the seemingly enraged red head because despite his angry protests, demanding you to go away because you’re annoying he keeps glancing back to see if you’ll follow,

so cute…….

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tbaluver · 5 months ago

Text

Husband/ Father Headcanons- The Love And DeepSpace Men

order: xavier x fem! reader, zayne x fem! reader, rafayel x fem! reader, sylus x fem! reader, caleb x fem! reader genre: fluff fluff a/n: hihi lovelies! i apologize that my reqs are coming supa late but i should finish and post them so soon after my school semester ends! i literally have so many in my drafts (╥﹏╥) i usually overthink my reqs which is why i take super long but here's some husband material to feed you all for now i hope ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ talk to you all so soon mwah (∩˃o˂∩)♡

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

He loves doing simple things with you like going to the supermarket. He’s read somewhere on the internet that that's what married couples are supposed to do on earth.

Morning routines with Xavier are always so warm and sweet. As you both get ready for the day, he’ll take your hand, carefully adjusting your wedding ring before giving it a soft kiss.

Whenever your newborn baby starts crying just as you’re both about to eat, he always prioritizes you. He’ll reassure you that you can go ahead and eat without him and enjoy your meal, promising you that he’ll take care of the baby.

You and Xavier share a special inside joke just between the two of you about the cute sounds your baby makes. Whether it’s the random babbling or their adorable squeals, always brings a smile and laugh to the both of you.

Xavier loves hearing and seeing your child laugh and will do absolutely anything to make them smile whether it’s through tickling, playing peekaboo, pulling silly faces, or using a high pitched voice

Lots of snuggles with you and your baby. You’d have your little one nestled safely right in the middle of the two of you as you all fall into deep slumber. He especially loves having his child rest on his chest while you snuggle up beside him.

Zayne:

Whenever your baby girl starts walking or crawling, he’ll consistently clean the floors of the house multiple times to keep the floor clean for his baby girl and to also have a clean house in general.

Your daughter has her own little kitchen playset because she loves watching either of you cook. Sometimes, while Zayne’s busy with his patients reports, she’ll run up to him with a plate of her plastic food to share her ‘cooking’ with him. He loves to play along to see her adorable smile, pretending to savor it and tell her how delicious it is.

Whenever it’s a quiet time between the two of you, enjoying each other’s company and doing your own thing, Zayne often reaches over to gently rub his thumb against your wedding ring, often reminiscing about the day you two got married and a small smile curling on his lips.

Anytime you ask him to grab something for you while he’s out, he always goes the extra mile and adds a little something extra for you- and for him as well especially if it’s something sweet. If you ask for the next series of your favorite book you love, he’ll just get the entire collection so you can binge-read it right away. He’ll even pick up a copy of the book you’re currently reading so he can talk about it with you.

Rafayel:

Everyday being married to you feels like a blessing from the gods. He wakes up in the morning to see your beautiful sleeping figure right beside him, wearing the wedding ring on your finger that ties you both together forever. Rafayel always greets you with something cheesy when you wake up like, “Hello my beautiful wife.” with a big smile on his face.

Rafayel flirts with you as if you haven’t been married for a couple years now and often says “I love you” with any chance he gets. “Heyy my lovely gorgeous wife, before you come home, do ya think you can pick me up some extra brushes? I think our little glub glubs hid them again...oh and by the way I love you!”

He always wears his ring. He can’t help but fidget with the ring whenever he starts to miss you, smiling as thinks about the day you both exchanged your vows.

After a long day at work, you can always find your lemurian children running up to greet you with your husband. Sometimes they like to show off their artwork they’ve all made together and most of the time it’s all just for you.

However he can always tell when you’re exhausted and drained, so he’ll gently excuse the kids, assuring them you’ll spend time with them later. For now he’s happy to entertain the children so you can get your rest. He’ll make up a random activity to keep the children busy so he can do small things for you like running a bath or preparing some meals for you

Sylus:

Anytime Sylus and his baby girl are shopping, he’ll always ask her what she wants or what she prefers. He treats her like a princess just like her mommy.

“hmm....pink! no, red!...pink!”

“how about....we get both dear?”

and there’s something so adorable seeing her so happy that makes him feel so warm and fuzzy inside.

Sylus does not mind in any timeline or universe if you’re comfortable being provided for. He can afford it and nothing can hurt his card even if you tried.

As years go by, he’ll make sure your wedding ring isn’t getting worn out or has any chips in it. Not that it would ever get worn off from its high quality. If it does have any problems, he’s quick to get it fixed, making sure that your ring will always shine with you.

Before you both unwind for the night, he’ll gently kiss the back of your hand where your wedding ring rests, before slowly slipping it off for the night.

Anytime you’re home from a long day of work, he’s already outside waiting for you to take out things in your car so you don’t have to carry anything.

After a long shift, you can always come home to find a warm dinner waiting for you with your favorite drink. The house would be clean and your baby girl is already tucked in. He’ll sit by you at the dining table, a glass in his hand, sharing stories about his day or simply listening as you tell him about yours.

Caleb:

Caleb absolutely treasures being a father. He became the father that he wished he had, present and involved in every moment. Whether it’s cheering from the sidelines at their games or helping with their homework ( without yelling and making them cry at the kitchen table ), or just listening when they need to talk, he’s always there for his kids. He’s just as devoted to you, always making sure you feel as supported and loved.

Caleb is the type of husband that would wake up early or stay up late to make sure your lunch is ready for work the next day. He knows exactly how you like your meals, carefully preparing each dish and packing it with everything you need. He does the same for his kids, packing their lunch boxes the night before with their favorite snacks and an apple.

Playtime is a must with his kids. He believes in letting his kids experience the joy of childhood to its fullest. The living room is always filled with the sound of his laughter as he lifts them high into the air, making airplane noises or chasing them around the house from their made-up games. He would also make sure to keep track of their growth, marking their heights on the wall.

Once all the kids are tucked in bed and actually asleep, he’ll swoop you in with a kiss. His kisses were always so hungry and sweet and he seriously cannot get enough of you, always wanting more.

“We have food at home” type of father but your kids never mind because he always cooks them whatever they’re craving. His home cooked meals always HIT. The house would be filled with delicious smells that make everyone feel right at home. His love is always served in each and every dish that makes his cooking way more special than going out to eat.

Your home is filled with many memories of your marriage but Caleb has a special place for his favorites. He keeps them up in your shared bedroom so when he wakes up beside you with the cool metal ring around his finger is a reminder that brings him back into reality that he’s married to the love of his life and there is always an escape from his nightmares.

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gloomwitchwrites · 2 months ago

Note

GOOD MORNING POPPIE!, what if the reader decides to do the TikTok prank on 141 men where S/O snatched their phone wether at the car while hiding a camera to record their reaction (will the guys get worried because they're hiding something from their s/o? Who knows?

Not gonna lie, I originally read that as Poopie and I laughed about it for a solid fifteen minutes. Now, I love a good prank, especially if it’s one done with good intentions and no animosity or with ill-temperedness. So, while I love this idea, I am going to wiggle toward the more wholesome route for this one. Do I think they’re hiding something? Possibly, but not something bad.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, established relationship, domestic fluff

Word Count: 800

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

John is relaxing in bed, phone in hand, earbuds in as he watches something intently. You jump in beside him, rolling over as a distraction, snagging his phone away as he turns in your direction.

“What are you doing?” he asks, brow furrowed in confusion as you roll away and to the very edge of the bed.

“Checking to see if you’re hiding something,” you reply, giving the cord a little tug, the wired earbuds launching at you. You hop up and onto your feet.

“Wouldn’t do that if I were you,” mumbles John.

“Oh yeah? Why? What are you—” You stare down at the screen for several solid seconds. Tapping it, you exit out of the episode John’s watching. “Why are you three episodes ahead on The Great British Bake Off?”

John shrugs. “Told you not to look.”

“John,” you say in your most mockingly serious tone. “This is grounds for divorce.”

He ignores you and continues on. “Want to know who they’ve eliminated so far?”

“Divorce, John.”

“You’ll be devasted. It’s—"

You toss the phone and earbuds back at him. “You’re really crushing my dreams of going on the show.”

“Dove,” he laughs. “You burn toast.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon stands in the kitchen, leaning against the counter. He’s looking through the mail, and his cellphone is next to him.

Circling behind him, you dart forward, snatching the phone off the counter.

Simon glances behind him. “Give that back,” he mutters, snatching the phone right out of your hands with such swiftness you jump.

“What?” you ask, adding a bit of attitude in your voice. “Have something to hide? Something you don’t want me to see?”

With the biggest sigh you’ve ever heard, Simon places his phone down next to him on the kitchen counter. He stands up straight, arms crossed over his chest. Leaning in slightly, Simon towers over you, staring down at you like he’s about to chastise a child that’s been caught sticking their hand in the cookie jar before dinner.

“That last time I gave you my phone,” he says slowly. “You ordered nearly three hundred pounds in Chinese takeaway.”

You purse your lips and conveniently glance over Simon’s shoulder so you don’t have to look him in the face. “To be fair, I was really hungry and wanted crab rangoon.”

Simon shakes his head and offers you the phone. “Stay off of fucking DoorDash.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle lounges in the living room on the sofa. You casually prowl over, plopping down next to him. He ignores you, tapping away on his phone. You wait a beat, and then reach over to snap the phone up.

“Excuse me,” says Kyle. “I was in the middle of something.”

“Checking to see if you’re hiding something from me.”

Kyle nods, playing along, foot tapping like he’s following a beat. “I have plenty to hide.”

Your head tilts slightly as you start opening apps. “Hm? Like what?”

“Cheating,” he says, deadpan.

You snort. “Okay. Sure. You—” Pausing, you gaze down at his screen, and then look up. “You sly dog.” You turn the phone around to show him the screen. “You are cheating.”

He shrugs, grinning. “Caught me.”

“Is this why you always beat me at Wordle?” you exclaim. “Because you’re using hints?”

Kyle covers his mouth with his hand, but he’s unable to hide the smile.

“You asshole!” you laugh, grabbing a nearby pillow and bringing it down on his head.

Kyle laughs too, arms raising to defend himself. A few more strikes and he wrestles the pillow from your hands, turning it around to use against you.

John "Soap" MacTavish

There’s a rugby match on the television. You and Johnny are reclined in bed, relaxing against the nest of pillows. Johnny is shirtless, wearing nothing but grey sweatpants. On his stomach, he balances his phone and an open bag of potato chips.

Glancing between him and your book, you conjure up a little idea. It’s harmless, really. Nothing all that significant.

With as much casualness as you can muster, you reach for Johnny’s cellphone. He jumps as your hand makes contact with his stomach. Johnny leans away from you, leaving the phone behind but snatching up the bag of crisps like it’s a life preserver.

“What are you doing?” asks Johnny, incredulous.

You shrug. “I wanted your phone. Take a look.”

Johnny shoves his hand inside the crisp bag. Digging around, he brings out a handful and shoves them into his mouth. Chewing for a moment, he shakes his head, tossing the phone into your lap. “Here. You can have it.”

“Johnny. You need to unlock it.”

With a grumble, he grabs it back, holds it up to his face, and then hands it to you.

“Thought you were going for my crisps,” he mutters, gaze returning to the television.

taglist:

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@iloveslasher @ravenpoe67 @sadlonelybagel @nishim @arrozyfrijoles23

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@fern-reads @waves-against-a-cliff @beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx

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@katerinaval @morguethemagpie @galactict3a @sarah-the-bird-nerd @mikachu-bitez

@unclearblur @kurochan3

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chuluoyi · 1 year ago

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࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 10:00 A.M 」

SUMMERRR @ohimsummer you’re so responsible for this infinitely adorable idea omg🤧 based on this ask & this video !

a part of gojo's love entries

“papa. come on. pa-pa~ say it after me!”

sunday morning. the first sight you saw after getting up was another shenanigan staged by your husband—

in the form of him shoving your humongous wedding photo in front of your one-year old boy’s face.

“this is pa-pa~” satoru’s singsong voice echoed through the baby room, full of enthusiasm, pointing at his face in the photo. “pa-pa~ easy right? now…”

your baby merely blinked though, chewing his pacifier in pure ignorance. his eyes—a pair blue marbles—glancing between his desperate papa and the wedding picture with little interest.

“hmph,” satoru clicked his tongue, and then he pointed at your beaming figure in the photo, voice visibly flat. “this is… mother.”

you quirked an eyebrow, totally snorting.

but he succeeded in grabbing your baby’s attention this time, as his crystal blue eyes widened a bit in wonder, staring at you in the picture.

“mother is pa-pa’s wife. she makes your food, nice on some days, but be careful! she can put a ban on our supply of mochi if she is in a bad mood!”

“oh, do i?” you walked over to him with a bark of a laugh, crossing your arms.

satoru made an exaggerated spooked look, mouth curving into an ‘O’. “uh-oh, mama dragon is here.”

“look, you big bully. why are you bothering our baby first thing in the morning?”

“i’m not bullying him! it’s education! he has to see that his papa is the gallant sorcerer—”

“—ma!”

. . .

silence. both of you stiffly turned towards your little munchkin when you heard that little, feeble sound.

your baby and his clear, watery eyes made a grabby motions towards you from his bouncer chair, lips wobbling with effort. “ma—ma!”

...another silence before you snapped—

“my baby!!” you squealed, immediately plucking him, giving and smothering him with the tightest hug and kisses, whereas satoru’s jaw dropped to the depths of soil behind you. “kyaaaa~! i love you soooo much!”

“h-how—!”

“i definitely didn’t go through the pain of giving birth to you so you can call your deadbeat papa first!”

“—?! hey! i’m fully responsible for child support!”

and so you left him in his sorrows, walking out while cooing at your bundle of joy, leaving trails of your baby son’s happy giggles along the way as your defeated husband, who felt so betrayed, sulked in the background.

epilogue

“come on… just once, please? say papa.”

this time, satoru has his baby son open a book beside him, as he points at the father figure in that storybook, still urging his mini-him to call him.

but contrary to his expectations, his little boy just aggressively turned the pages over, only seemingly interested in seeing the illustrations on each page.

“papa. come on, buddy, hmm?” he prodded his chubby arms and tickled his tummy, and once again, his prickly baby retorted with—

“ma! ma!”

satoru sighed in defeat, but this time he relented, as the way his son was all energetic while calling you somehow wormed its way to his heart too.

he was still babbling incoherently, and yet this time satoru only pinched his cheeks together. “you sure adore your mama, huh?”

“mwa!”

“yeah, me too, kiddo. me too.”

#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #satoru x reader #jjk imagines #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen x reader #dad!gojo #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru fluff #jjk fluff #gojo x you #satoru gojo fluff #jjk x reader fluff

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velaenam · 17 days ago

Text

𝟏𝟎-𝟒

◦ ♡

𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐛 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 – non!mc. t minus 36 hours before captain caleb would be stationed overseas for war. he wanted to make his couple hours matter. with you. 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 / 𝐭𝐰 – NSFW!! (18+) NASTY.. DIRTY..SMUT!!! . wartime setting/era, swearing, overstimulation, cunnilingus, blow jobs, missionary, lots of touching, creampie, groping, penetration, fingering, clit stimulation, fluff (i guess....LOL) notes – not proofread. haha.. idk im loving this. was gonna make it a one off, buut... i have plans.. if u want to be on taglist lmk! likes n reblogs are greatly appreciated! 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 1 of 3 | next chapter

you smack your lips together, your red velvety lips kissing the mirror. it was friday night, and even more so, it was ‘thank you troops!’ night . you were excited. more customers, more tips, more sexy men in uniforms. your favorite part of the job. you were almost done with the last year of your college, then it was off your own country of choosing to continue your studies! you were so excited. spring break was right around the corner– and by right around, it started today because it was friday freaking night, and the bar was going to be crazy!

as you walk out of the employee room the bell in the middle of the bar rings. it indicates that a unlucky someone had to pay the round for everybody in there. there were screams and cheering as an unlucky pilot shook his head, laughing in disbelief.

“ha! captain caleb got the bell!”

“yeah yeah enjoy the drink.” he laughs, as you approach the men, getting behind the bar, you watch as darts flew, and listen to glasses clink. you pick up the sound of someone grumbling over a lost bet. but most importantly your eyes land on him. he’s sitting there, leaning over the counter, quiet in the middle of all the noise, fingers grasping his drink like it was the only thing tethering him here.

you dip towards him, cleaning the counter with your rag as you lean towards him, a grin on your face. “is this your brooding war hero face, captain caleb?” he snaps from his thoughts, caleb looks you over, “you think i’m a war hero?” you nod, like a child in awe, “ya got the jawline for it.” he gives you a silent stare, before a chuckle escapes his lips, dragging his glass towards you. “is that why you’re talking to me? for the jawline?” you pick his cup up, and raise in an angle towards the spout, meticulously watching as the ale fills up, making sure there were no bubbles– or as best as you could, “well..for one, i work the bar… for two..” you slide the beverage towards him, placing a towel below it, “i had a feeling you were about to leave without giving me your name.”

“seems like you already had it.” he states matter-o-factly, as he tips the glass onto his lips, you chuckle, leaning into his view. he sets the drink down, elbows on the bar, and his smile playing somewhere between charm and challenge. “well..” your slender fingers go to tap the name on his jacket, “captain caleb… wasn’t that hard, huh.”

“what makes you think i wasn’t waiting for you to ask hm?” you rolled your eyes, cheeks puffed up, sliding a drink to a patron near him, “ that sounds like something a pilot would say.” you say smartly, turning your attention to him. his eyebrow raises, very clearly entertained, “oh? and what do pilots sound like to you?”

you lean in, giggles escaping your lips, as you take your pinky finger and thumb, fixed as a phone, pulling it towards your lips and ear. you make a static sound as if you were mimicking a walkie talkie, “this is captain caleb, over.” you burst into fits of laughter afterwards. caleb couldn’t figure if it was the alcoholic warmth or your infections beauty, and laugh.. he’d chalk it up to being both. he clears his throat, and mimicking your fingers, and placing it upon his lips and ear as well before going, “it’s actually: 10-4, captain caleb out.” you bit your lip smiling as he continued to talk to you in his pilot voice. you stare at him, deadpan, then burst into a fit, “yknow, i don’t even know what that means. but it sounds good. you sound good.” you flirt, obnoxiously so. you were young, naive, probably not gonna see this sexy man for a year or whatever, you only live once, right?

“you are so funny. if i’m being honest, i’m kind of sad you’re leaving so soon. you seem sweet.” you mutter, as you touch his shoulder. the bar was quiet now, the liveliness was dead– everyone was gone for the night, and you were the designated closer. caleb offered to keep you company as you finished cleaning the bar, restocking and getting everything ready for the next shift.

he went ahead to tell you about his mission. he was a pilot being deployed with the men that he had taken to the bar with him tonight. you listen, as he explained what he did, without giving you the nitty gritty, nor exposing any confidential information. he figured, you probably weren’t going to remember this shit by the next couple months.

to him, you were a young, beautiful woman. a vixen, with a sharp tongue, but you laughed so soft– so sweet, tender, like an apple pie– his favorite. if he could just jump ships– literally, and ask you out on a date, he would. but unfortunately, his life lives harshly, and he couldn’t do it.

you finish locking the front door as you turn to see him waiting for you. the moonlight played into this man. his features luminated. kept brown hair, purple eyes tinted as it stares into you, and his white service uniform, brightening him, as if he was an angel sent down from heaven.

you walk towards him, and he places his hat in his non-dominant hand, and the other raises to meet your manicured ones. he lifts them, placing a soft kiss on your knuckle as he takes the lead, walking you towards the parking lot. you felt serene, but you also felt gut wrenched. why did the one man you were actually interested in, had to leave so soon already? fate is such a cruel mistress.

you both stop at your vehicle, and he chuckles, his hands gliding up to your door, and opening it for you. the bar wasn’t low, but you loved a man who was chivalrous. you gave him such a bittersweet smile, “you’re leaving tomorrow?” you ask once again, and he gives you a pained smile, before nodding.

as you think of what to say next, calebs eye twinkle, he leans down, lips near your ear as he speaks low, “our night doesn’t have to end right now.” he mutters, just barely above a whisper. your knees buckle, feeling the knot in your stomach burst into butterflies. as he pulls away, you stare up at him, biting your lip.

without saying much he leads you to his own car, his hands never leaving yours, as he opens the passenger side for you. you quickly get in, and he leans in, gripping the seatbelt, and connecting it across your body, and a kiss on your cheek. you didn’t even have time to react, you were just awestruck by his sweetness.

you quietly listen to the tap of his credit card as you stand next to him, his hands intertwined with yours. the soft spoken woman behind the counter slides the keycard in front of you both, “your room is 304. please enjoy, and call us if you need anything!” he nods for you to take the keycard, as his other hand was preoccupied with a bag of stuff you and him had bought spontaneously.

you felt like a stupid giddy girl as you both rush to the elevator. he wanted you bad, but he had to restrain himself. public stunts were not his forte, and well– you were worth the wait, to him. he guides you, and lets go of your hand. his finger swipes the card from you–gently, as he tugs the door knob down and opening the door.

the room is soft, warm, a lamp already turned on, and he walks in first, gently dropping the bag on the mini kitchen counter. he turns back to you, silhouetted by the light, “you coming in, or were you just here for the walk?” he mutters, as he starts to tug on his suit. you nod quietly practically flying in, and locking the door.

he undoes his tie, followed by his shirt. you ogle like an idiot, as you slowly made your way towards him. you stare at how absolutely divine his body was. 6 pack? check. you could do some laundry on that thang. his chiseled muscular godly body? check. he was a stocky man. you were in physical love. his gorgeous eyes? check check. a smile to die for? abso-fucking-lutely.

“might wanna close your mouth, sweetheart.” caleb laughs as he places his finger tips on your chin, craning your head upwards to stare at him. you close your mouth, muffling an apology as he leans down and shakes his head, giving your forehead a kiss. it surprised you how tender of a pace he was going. you tilt your head as your lips brush against each other, “why are you being so… sweet?” you say breathlessly, fingers trailing his torso. he hums, taking your other hand into his, intertwining, his eyes closing as he took in your scent, “hmm.. i’m attracted to you.. i want to take my time….” he mumbles, planting slow and soft kisses on your temple.

caleb was a lover boy. he knew how to be sweet, tender, and gentle. he didn’t want you to feel like a one off, even if his case isn’t really helping him.

his hands snake to your waist, not daring to let you go. you felt like a cloud in the air as he easily lifted you up, planting kisses on your neck. he tugged the top of your shirt your breasts filling over your shirt. he leans away to stare at you, as you turn your head in embarrassment. he kisses your cheek where your blush crept, “you’re so gorgeous when you blush, sweetheart.. you are..beautiful..” he mumbles, as he dipped down, kissing the valley of your breast. he lays you down softly, treating you as if you were a dainty porcelain doll, not to be messed with.

“mm.. caleb..” you mumble, hands tangled in his brown locks. he relished you, kissed every inch of your chest, his hands pinning both your wrists above your head. with a free hand he explores your exposed skin– as if you were a map to be charted. pressure soft, just enough to press into your skin, but not heavy. the clash of warmth traces and the cold air leave your nipples hard. caleb watches as your nipple harden with ever hot and cold you feel, and he laughs, his voice going thick, “i love turning you on, sweetheart.” he drags his tongue on one of your nipples, pressing both lips on it, and softly tugging. this elicits a moan from your lips, arching your back as you felt his teeth bite down– just enough to cause a reaction.

his thumbs brush the sides of your thigh, the slow of your back, and eventually to the hem of your shorts. he looks up at you, disheveled and undone. he was tipsy, with alcohol and lust. you were his drink to be consumed. “you are the most gorgeous woman i have ever laid my eyes on.” caleb says, like it’s the first and last truth he’s ever known.

you couldn’t take it anymore. you tap on his shoulder, and in one swift motion, you’re on top. you give him that sweet giggle that he loved to hear, as you climbed off of him. he was on the edge of the bed, still laying down but staring at you from below. you tease him, your hands creeping to the belt of his pants. as he watches you slowly, you tug it off, and with quite an alarming strength, you pull his pants off him, only leaving him with his boxers. his eyes widen at your random display of strength. servicemen work hard, and horny women work harder.

you drape the pants on the chair nearby, and your gaze lands back on him. you start to undress, slipping your bra and shirt off, then as you place your hands on the button of your shorts, caleb’s large hands drag over your hands, his nose on your sternum, as he lazily tugs your shorts down with ease. he kisses your chest once more, mumbling words you couldn’t make out. you stand between his knees, as his hands find your hips, thumbs pressing onto your pelvic region. he stares at your pretty red panties, frilly, cute. imaginative. “permission to take this as a souvenir?” he plays with the band, slowly tugging it down as he stares into your eyes, a haphazard smile taking form on his face.

you don’t give him an answer, you just nod, feeling ethereal. as if you were on a different plane. he took this opportunity to tease you. his eyes scan the room and find a mirror behind you, and he turns you to face the mirror, with his massive hands and legs on the side of your frame. one arm wraps around your waist, as the other go down to your inner thighs, caressing you. you start to crane your head to another location, but by gods will, caleb moves his hand to your chin, kindly, but forcefully turning your head to look back at the mirror. he plants a kiss on your side as his fingers make contact with your clit, “don’t look away baby.. i want to watch your face when you come for me.” he’d mumble as he started to rub soft, circular, circles on your clit. you felt a jolt from how delicious it felt. you cry out– pussy aching in pleasure. your lips form an ‘o’ as he takes in your messy appearance. your beautiful lips smeared by your lipstick, your eyes half closed, and your body quivering, almost as if you were becking him. caleb couldn’t get enough of you. his fingers would slip further, feeling your slick wet cunt. “oh sweetheart you’re so wet for me.” he coos softly fingers pushing past your sweet folds and inserting them inside you. you whimpered eyes lazily closing and opening as you felt him pump you slowly. “mmmgggg— caleb…mmmm b-baby p-please..” you mewl, saliva threatening to slip down the corners of your lips.

calebs arm latch comfortably around your waist as his hand grasp your breast. his lips linger on your side, as his free finger pinch your nipples, his other fingers thrusting a little faster this time. your knees buckle as his fingers work, slowly giving out, and he catches you on his lap. you were a panting mess, catching your breath as best as you can. caleb kisses the crook of your neck lifting your legs onto each of his. he spreads your legs apart, so he has an even better view of you in the mirror. your head leaned back onto his shoulder as your eyes roll back to heaven. he watches as you writhe in his arms, pussy squelching in his hand, your juices dripping down on the floor.

“so gorgeous” kiss “you’re such a lovely woman” kiss "i cant get enough of you." kiss “you drive me crazy” kiss

“c…calebbb— fuck it feels so…good” you mutter as coherent as you possibly fan. you felt that itch hit you so suddenly, like a truck. your eyes widen, head snapping to the mirror. his fingers intensify as you shake your head, pleading, “please baby please please please calebcalebcaleb im going to cum pleaseee baby mmmmhhhgh—“ you squeal, twitching forward your body convulsing as your head limps backwards. you unravel in his fingers, “such a good girl.” he’d coo into your ears.

you mumble lowly, as you slide down on the floor. you get on your knees as you slowly pull his dick out of his boxers. to say he was large was an understatement. you gaze lovingly at his cock, eyes full of lust, mouth full of drool. before he could get a word out your lips touch the tip. his eyes flutter closed, head falling backwards as his hands make their way to your hair, fingertips curling on your crown. as you swirl your tongue around the bottom of his shaft he stifles a moan, holding this moment as his own— burning it into his memory. you attune to each hitched breath. quicken when his chest slowed down, slobbering on it. your saliva travels down to his balls, and each inch you pull into your throat, your eyes water. his hands are gentle, but commanding, not forcing you down but begging— pleading, for you to take all of it. his tip hits the back of your throat, and you gag. calebs jaw tightens, as he closes his eyes- almost cumming. this was so goddamn dangerous. you were milking him like your life depended on it. there were tears running down your eyes, your pretty eyeliner smudged. your lipstick smeared. you look like a perfect woman. taking his cock so generously whilst your make up ran. a beautiful sight to behold. if only he could take a photo of you slurping his dick so obediently.

you continuously ram his tip into the back of your throat, and he fought every time not to cum, until he had enough. he pulls his dick out of your throat, and you cough profusely. he didn’t want to cum in your throat, he wanted to cum inside of you.

his face littered in sweat as he pulls you up, your lips connecting. he leads you up on the bed and lays you on your back, his face burying in the crook of your neck. he whines, almost pathetically, “please sweetheart… let me fuck you” you wrap your arms around his shoulder, nodding, as if he could see you. he couldn’t but he could feel the repeated tug. he was already aligning his tip to your entrance. he pulls his face away from your neck and plants another kiss on your lips, “im going to make you remember me.” he thrusts in, tightness almost overtaking him. both facial expressions twist into pure bliss. pure divinity. you let out a slutty sultry moan. caleb closes his eyes as he burns that audio in his head, his hand framed on your hips as the other place their spot on your cheek. he thrusts slow— but hard.. intensely.. passionate. you were locking eyes with him, eyes brimming with tears at how well he was tearing you. he was clouded with constant thoughts of cumming. you felt so goddamn good around him. “fuck, baby.. you’re milking my dick.” he cries out, arm moving to your legs as he forces you to wrap them around him. you can only give a nod as he pounds you into the soft bedsheets, your fingers tangling themselves into his hair and the pillow beneath you.

“so good..”

“you’re taking my cock so well baby, just like that.. just like that, baby. keep taking my dick like a… mm- good fucking girl..”

“ohh baby—-nnmm.. you’re so goddamn beautiful.. fuck im— ahh- in love..” he slurs out, head lightheaded from just how fucked you were making him. he’d already cum twice now, but didn’t wanna tell you due to him enjoying this moment. your pussy was full of his cum, and you couldn’t get enough.

you were so fucked out of your mind— your pussy clenched with each thrust, his tip hitting your spot over and over until you collapse around him, cumming harder and harder with each orgasm. neither of you talked much in this exchange. the evident love and affection between you two was enough words.

he was rubbing your cheeks as he thrusted harder, and you were taking it, slack jaw, tongue out, a messy messy slut for him, and he worshipped you, like a devout of his goddess.

he was overstimulating himself— he could feel it. he was losing feelings from his dick. it had been the 5th nut he’d experienced— if he could even count how many goddamn times he’d pump you full of his load, and you were gone. he kept going, crying out “i can’t stop baby.. im sorry you—just— mm— feel so fuckinggg good.” he kept going, until his body started to feel light.

“baby- im going to cum—“ you couldnt react. he twitched once more, drilling you full of his kids one more time before he takes your face, planting a passionate and hard kiss. you wrap your arms and pull his head in closer, as best as you possibly could, wrapping your legs around him and pulling his body deep inside you as he shot inside.

needless to say, you both passed the fuck out— there was no after care. neither of you had the fucking capacity.

it was time. the carrier sits on the dock, ready to receive its troops. caleb held your hand as he drove you two to the marina. among you were wives, girlfriends and families crying and holding their loved ones one last time for a while. you took comfort from having to not be the only one dealing with this pain. caleb held you the entire way, only ever breaking contact when he went to open your door for you.

you bite your lip, trying your damnedest to not cry. his fingers trail your lower lip, pushing it down at the slightest, “don’t do that. makes it harder for me to leave.” your lips quiver, hands intertwining with his, as your foreheads connect. his eyes bore into yours, as he lifts you up, making sure your skirt wasn’t hiked up. he pulls away from you and flags down a photographer.

“sir! can you please get two pictures for us?” he’d scream towards the man, amongst the screaming loved ones. he nods, preparing his camera. caleb grabs the back of your head and in a swift motion, kisses you— with so much passion— so much invigorating love, it made your head spin.

click!

he pulls away, unwillingly— and the next pose, his cheeks collide with yours softly, as he gives you the sweetest smile you’d ever seen from him. you sniffle and smile as best as you possibly could.

click!

he smooches you before gently setting you down. he goes over to the photographer and takes the polaroids, handing him some money and walking over to you.

“here baby, which one do you want?” you point to the photo of you kissing each other and he grins as he takes the other one. “ill put this in my helmet— and everywhere i go.”

you both relish the little time you had until you hear the bell from the deck. you were in fucking tears by now, and caleb was fighting his. he turns to you before he walks,

“i promise ill be back for you. i owe you that date, remember?” he winks at you before he puts the photo in the fold of his hat, then putting it on, adjusting it, and waving at you before he made his way to the entrance.

your tears flow freely, as you waved at him.

it was the last time you saw him.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ! - @leannathespacewerewolf , @rcvcgers

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beloveds-embrace · 7 days ago

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(p3 fae poly 141 x cursed human reader) || Masterlist || cw: angst

When it came, it did so in layers; not all at once like fire razing down a forest, but like snowfall. Gentle and inevitable, each melting flake a small forgetting.

First, it was names.

You would look at Kyle, his familiar grin flashing like sunlight through trees, and call him by a title from a kingdom long swallowed by moss and time. You would laugh at his expression, uncertain why the sound tasted strange in your mouth, and the room would grow unbearably heavy, as if the walls themselves could sense the fracture forming inside you.

You’d ask Johnny to bring you tea, then wonder aloud- like a child startled awake- if you even liked tea anymore.

You stopped calling Simon by anything at all, not out of cruelty, but because your mind could no longer find the thread of him. As if the loom of your memories had begun unraveling, one golden thread at a time.

You even forgot Simon’s face one day.

He finds you curled in the hollow beside the singing well, where fae voices forever hummed through the mist. The stones were slick with memory, the air heavy with time and sorrow. You were wrapped around yourself, a trembling creature of light and loss.

“I didn’t know who you were.” You whispered when he sat down beside you.

He nodded, his eyes dark wells of unspoken grief. “That’s all right.”

“I thought you were going to take me.” You looked down at your trembling hands. “I thought… you were here to end it.”

“You’ve never been anything but safe with me.” He said. His voice was steady like old oaks, but he didn’t speak again for a long time, and neither did you.

The castle then watched it continue.

its stones bones shivered in mourning as it saw the way your footsteps faltered in the mornings now, how you stood at the edge of the corridor with your hand against the wall, trying to remember which direction leads to the garden and which leads to the throne room. It murmured gentle guidance beneath your feet, shifted the stones so you always turned the right way. But you still hesitates. Still frowned, still murmur apologies under your breath.

“Sorry, sorry… I knew this. I knew this.”

The will-o'-wisps that once flickered mischievous in the shadows now clustered around you like living stars, their tiny bodies pulsing gently as they guided you step by step, glowing a mournful silver instead of their usual playful blue.

You asked John one evening- while he read to you from a worn book in your shared chamber, his voice a steady beacon in your fogging world- if the stars had always looked like that. The question was so soft, so simple, and yet it cracked something in him, because you used to name the constellations like old friends.

You were afraid of shadows that weren’t there yesterday. Of reflections that looked a second too slow in catching up. Of voices you knew, but couldn’t name.

Next, it was time itself.

Not hours or days- years. You’d call for your parents in the twilight, confused and teary when they didn’t come, not remembering they’d passed so long ago not even the tree spirits remembered their faces. You'd clutch letters to your chest like they'd just arrived, unaware they'd been yellowing on your shelf for decades.

You’d forget your own mirror image.

You’d wake screaming from dreams you couldn’t describe. You’d shrink from your reflection, pressing trembling hands over your face and whispering, “That’s not me. That can’t be me. I was- I never- John, John? John, please-“

One night, you stood in the courtyard barefoot in the snow, robe fluttering like moonlight. You stared at the moon and asked no one in particular: “… Am I a prisoner here?”

Thrain was with you, as he always was. He nuzzled your shoulder in response, trying to soothe the fear rising within you. You gripped his fur and leaned against him like a child lost in a storm.

And gods, the way they ached.

Johnny laughed louder now, louder and wilder like the summer storms of the old world, trying to cover the shattering silence your confusion left behind. He called you "lass" in every sentence so you'd feel anchored to something. He walked a step behind you everywhere, pretending it wasn’t because he was worried you might forget where you were.

Ghost began carrying tokens- little things. Ribbons, dried flowers, silver buttons and tinkling bells. Each one had a story of you, and each time you forgot one, he’d hand it to you gently and say, “Yours, love. You gave it to me.” He’d say, like it was a cherished secret between the two of you.

Gaz took to humming your favorite tunes beneath his breath as he worked, even though you no longer sang with him. When you looked at him in confusion, he just smiled and said, “You always liked this one, remember?”

They stayed with you, every hour they could. But John- John suffered.

He sat with you for hours even when you didn’t speak- when words were too difficult and you forgot what clouds were called and what shapes they were. He kissed your hands when they trembled. When you woke in the night and begged to go home, not knowing what "home" meant anymore, he held you close and whispered: “You’re already there, darling. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

But, still you were slipping like mist through their fingers.

And the castle mourned with them. The walls dimmed, the corridors wept condensation like tears. Will-o-wisps flickered low and quiet, guiding you slowly even when you no longer asked. They stuck to your clothes and your palms, and did not have the heart to leave you alone.

And Thrain watched with the most solemn of gazes.

When you grew too afraid of your own chambers, he stood beneath your window all night. When you refused to eat because you thought the food was poisoned- memories of old war resurfacing from broken pathways- he let you feed him first, licking berries from your hand until you giggled faintly and took a bite yourself. He walked the castle grounds with you in silence, letting you lean against his massive shoulder when your steps faltered.

But none of it stopped the slow unraveling.

One morning, you looked into a mirror and didn’t recognize the face staring back. You reached out and touchd the glass, brows furrowed. “Who is she?”

Kyle was behind you, hands full of ribbons meant for your hair, and he hesitated. “That’s… you, love.”

You blinked, tilting your head. Slowly, a strange expression on your face, you pulled back. “She looks sad.”

He swallowed hard. “You’ve been hurting. But we’re going to fix it.”

“You promise?”

He knelt, took your hand, and kissed your knuckles. “All of us. Every damn one.”

Another day, you looked at John- his beard newly trimmed, his eyes soft and hopeful- and asked him quietly, your hands twisting the soft fabric of your dress. “Are you my husband?”

His face broke, the way cliffs crumble slowly into the sea.

You don’t remember the look he gave you. But you remember that night’s dream- a whisper of a man in a blue cloak with hands like warmth and a voice like thunder saying: “Yes, love. Always.”

And somewhere in your heart, you think you believed it. Even if you didn’t understand why, even if you didnt remember when.

“Will you still love me when I forget what love is?”

“Yes, love. Always.”

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oceantornadoo · 19 days ago

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idiots doctors in love

dr. michael robinavitch x resident f!reader

smut. oblivious reader. down bad robby. jazz obssessions.

based on the vibe of the music robby was listening to in ep1 and 15, i headcanon he's a jazz man. SORRY NOT SORRY.

"what do you mean you can't go?"

you frown at dr. mohan, your pain-in-the-ass best R3 friend who's currently breaking your heart. "you're telling me you'd rather stay here than go out?" you gesture to the ER, workers fluttering around as day shift turns to night. out of the corner of your eye you catch a head of almost-silver hair and smirk. "so that's why you want to stay?" she finds the man in your line of sight and immediately shakes her head. samira unclips her clip, shakes her head, and reclips it -- something she never does in the ER. it's a sure sign of her crush on dr. abbot, even if she won't admit it.

"it's not even a crazy club, samira." you hook your arm through hers and drag her away from the board that she was scanning with a single-minded ferocity. "it's r&b night at this new jazz club. we can sit and still have fun! you don't even need to wear heels." she's already dragging you back to the board and shaking her head. "i came in late today. i need to finish my 12 hours." by late, she means the two hours she spent throwing up from food poisoning. even robby told her she could go home and here she is, staying. "fine. but you better text me, i expect you to leave here by 9pm sharp. no more than what you were supposed to work." you squeeze her arm and only let go when she smiles at you. what a liar. you know she'll work way into the night. "sure thing, mom. i'll text you what i eat and when i go to bed, too." she shoots back, smiling. you nudge her side before locating your water bottle and gathering yourself, mentally, to leave the chart board. "i expect nothing less. see you sunday!"

when you turn, your water bottle smacks into your attending.

"shit, i'm sorry." you look up and there he is, crow's feet crinkling as he smiles. rounded black eyeglasses compliment the black ipad he holds, likely updating someone's chart before you whacked his hand with your sturdy bottle. "what's that thing made of?" he lowers his head like he's examining the pink steel of your bottle, and it's hard not to feel giddy under his full attention. stupid, stupid crush.

"confidential weapon materials. it's indestructible." you grin as he shakes his head, clearly done with your antics. "get out of here, doctor. there's only room for so many dad jokes." you roll your eyes, untwisting the cap of your water bottle and drinking just so you can have a few more seconds with him before you really have to go. today was one of those days where you still feel human when you leave work -- no soul-crushing experiences. you're sure one will come on your sunday shift, but the rest of friday night and all of saturday scream freedom to you. a drop of water escapes your mouth and trails down from the corner of your lips to your chin. a lapse in control, something you usually have in spades, but never around robby. how embarrassing, not being able to drink water with more etiquette than a child-

a warm finger brushes the skin of your chin, wiping away the droplet.

you lock eyes. his are brown and a little out of it, his nose flaring and immediately condensing when he retracts his hand. he tucks it in his cargo pants and it's like you've imagined the whole thing.

must be ER-induced delirium.

"any weekend plans, robby?" absolute insane, to ask that question after you just displayed your lack-of-drinking skills. fortunately, all robby does is shake his head. his veiny hand swipes his glasses off his face and tucks them in the front chest pocket of his scrubs. unfortunately, the fluidity of it does a lot for you. must be the competency? "don't call me old, but the record store i like is having a sale on all their duke ellington records tomorrow. might stop by, pretend i have a life." he laughs in that self-deprecating way of his, like he's embarrassed to admit he's human and not just an attending.

your heart melts.

"i love jazz." you murmur, a little self-consciously, as you set your eyes on his stethoscope instead of his face. "i know." you pick your head up immediately, brows furrowed. when did you tell him that? "i mean, i heard you talking to dr. mohan." he clarifies. you nod, a kernel of hope growing when you realize he was eavesdropping. maybe this obsession is more than one-sided. maybe.

"you goin' to that thing you mentioned?" he asks, rolling his shoulders and looking away before looking back at you. "maybe. samira, i mean, dr. mohan can't go, so i might see if my roommate wants to go. she's really into rock though, like die-hard metal fan, so i'm not too sure if she'll want to..." you trail off, a bit saddened. you do want to go, and if it was daytime you would, it's just being alone at night in the city can still be scary. especially after a long shift, even if you're sober. your senses are dulled, worn out from all-day usage. the idea of a long bath and playing a favorite playlist sounds equally appealing and way less work.

"i'm free."

you gape at him, then quickly recover before he can notice how wide open your mouth is. "really?" he looks shocked at himself for even offering, so all he does at first is nod. robby looks off-kilter, far from the confident attending you've spent your last two years with. "you don't have anyone- i mean, any plans tonight? i don't want to take up too much of your time, it starts at 8:30 and it'll probably be at least an hour, maybe two." he barks out a laugh, swiping a hand down his face before answering. "no one's waiting on me. plus, i'm not that old, doctor. my bedtime is 12 anyway." he winks, recovered from whatever shock he was experiencing. you laugh, covering it with your hand before it becomes a full-force giggle. he's not even that funny, but he's just so endearing with those soulful brown eyes and terrible humor and warmth. on hour 12 of your shift, you simply can't take it.

"let me talk to dr. abbot and then i can walk out with you. it's kind of a speakesy so there's this password and this back door and," you realize you're waving your hands around, priming him for another water bottle attack, and quickly fix them to your sides, "and, i'll be right back. don't take another case or i'll go without you." his eyebrows crinkle a little at your mention of dr. abbot but you write it off as tiredness. he nods his affirmation and you bolt through the ER, desperate to finally get out of here.

"dr. abbot!" thankfully he's charting and not gut-deep in a poor patient. he looks up and nods you over, clearly expecting an interesting case. "i need you to do me a favor. dr. mohan is abandoning our jazz club plans to work her full shift and i need you to promise me she leaves here by 9pm. she already had food poisoning this morning, she does not need to work longer than necessary." he's smiling by the end of your demand, clearly amused than angry you're making demands. "you'll make a perfect chief resident, doctor. she won't be here past 9 or i'll walk her out myself." that's what you're hoping for, but you don't mention that. "sorry about your plans." he adds. you shrug, rocking back on your feet as you try not to give away your excitement. "it's okay. robby's coming, of all people."

an odd thing happens to the attending you thought was unflappable. he looks past your shoulder, clearly searching for robby, before quickly pulling back to look you up and down. his mouth opens slightly, then closes shut immediately. "fucking finally." he mutters under his breath, underestimating how good your hearing is. "sorry?" you ask, a little off guard. he shakes his head, resetting. "nothing. have a good night, doctor. have fun." when has he ever told you to have fun? you nod, extremely confused with whatever oddness has affected the Pitt attendings. you wish him a goodnight and beeline back to Robby, who's trying not to involve himself in two GSW's that just burst through the doors.

it's intimate, walking out with him. he holds the door for you but with his hand up high, making you almost duck under it to exit. you talk all the way to the parking lot, only realizing he doesn't even drive when you arrive at your car. you explain how to get into the club, the password being "April 29th" for the NYC Duke Ellington Day in 2009. he takes all of it in stride, nodding precisely at the right points like he's actually listening. "you need a ride home?" you offer, hoping he says no. this past hour has been too much of a whirlwind and you need a moment to contemplate, but the people pleaser in you demands hospitality. thankfully, he shakes his head. "i like walking home. not too far and clears the head." you nod, completely understanding. usually when you drive home, you keep the windows down and the music low to decompress. unsurprisingly, it's jazz or more modern r&b that clears your head.

"i'll see you there, then. text me if something comes up or you'll be late." you tack on, trying not to seem desperate. not to seem like this is a date, of course, which it is not. he's just being friendly, eavesdropping on your personal conversations and connecting over hobbies and offering his time outside of work when he could be, for one, sleeping. "i'll see you at 8:30, doctor."

you splurge for a cab, figuring the moment allows for it. plus, your feet ache from hours on your feet and the kitten heels you're wearing don't exactly help. after paying the fee, you step out onto the sidewalk and smooth out the creases in the dress you chose. it's the original outfit you were going to wear: a little black dress that hits above the knee paired with black heels that have bows on them, a small purse around your shoulder. except, you did your makeup instead of going bare face like you originally would've. it's armor to face multiple hours with the man you've been crushing on for months. sure, you've shared beer in parks and much-needed coffee on the roof, but nothing outside of the confines of work. nothing like how he looks now, waving at you awkwardly as he walks down the street in dark pants and a button-down paired with a jacket to stave off the chill. it shocks you for a second -- the first time you've seen him out of his scrubs. he comes to stand in front of you and beams a little, his cheeks pulling up. he's more relaxed without the weight of the ER on him and you yearn to see him like this a thousand times more.

"hi."

you stare for a second before reminding yourself that you are not a teenager and can have adult conversations. except this is your boss, a fact you keep forgetting. "i honestly imagined you showing up in scrubs." you tease, gesturing at him to follow as you make your way to the entrance. he chuckles, a low tone that hits like a shower after a long shift, needed and soothing. "i like your dress, too, doctor." he replies. your skin heats at his compliment, glad you're not facing his direction. you wander through the side hallway that accompanies the front of the restaurant, pausing a little before the secret door. before you approach, you turn to him. "you don't have to call me doctor, robby." you remind him, tilting your head a little. he takes the moment to scan the length of your dress, the sheer tights that feed into your heels, before landing back on your face and saying your name. your first name.

it's the first time he's said it, you think. like a shock of epi to the veins, waking you up. his eyes darken and it must be a trick of the light, but you see his pupils expand. you grin shyly before turning and approaching the door. a gold-embossed slit in the door slides open and a pair of blue eyes blink at you. "password?" there's a sudden presence behind you as robby hovers, a touch away from your back. not the closest he's ever stood but you feel practically naked without your scrubs, like he's seeing your bare skin. "april 29th." you supply, clearing your throat as you remind yourself he's just being courteous.

the door swings open and you stifle a gasp. it's all mahagony wood and low lights, candles on every table with velvet-covered chairs and clinking bar glasses. an acoustic version of a leon bridges song plays as you make your way inside, robby only a step behind you. "isn't it pretty?" you turn your face up and there he is, staring down at you. "very pretty." he refers to the room, but his eyes stay on you, warm pools of chocolate in the lamplight. you find a table far enough away from the band where you can talk, even though your tongue is currently tied. robby murmurs something about getting drinks and you sit gladly, your feet straining from being put through even more walking. you set your purse on the table and close your eyes, letting your body finally relax as you take in the music. your head sways a little, the rhythm soothing you after another long-but-worth-it day in medicine.

"i wasn't sure what you wanted, so i got the specialty drink they were serving." he sets down what looks like a fancy dirty shirley with edible gold glitter swirling around. it catches the light and reminds you of the gold flecks in robby's eyes, illuminated by the candles. he sits down in the chair next to you, the table small enough for your knees to brush as you both face the stage. neither of you pulls away.

"they must have upcharged an extra $10 for the glitter." you take a sip and close your eyes, loving the fruitiness. a look left reveals his own drink, dark liquid in a glass tumbler. "part of the experience." he shrugs, nudging you with his knee. "plus, i know mohan wouldn't comp your drinks like i will." you giggle at that, keeping it at a low volume as the band continues. you take another sip for courage before putting the glass back down. "thank you, robby. for the drink and for coming." he takes a sip of his drink and sets it down. the table must be too small or his eyes really that bad, because he sets it so close to you that your knuckles brush. these accidental touches keep sending ill-advised sparks to your core, making you shift in your spot and press your thighs together.

when you gather the courage to look in his eyes, they seem to be on your thighs. a trick of the light, as they flick up and catch yours, no apology on his lips. "i wanted to-"

"hello everyone!" the saxophone player has the mic, greeting everyone with a bright smile. "thank you for coming to our little gathering tonight. it'll be a mix of jazz, r&b, and anything that sits right in the soul. we've got our singer coming on in about an hour but for now, enjoy the music." the bassist plucks a few strings and they start, launching into a louis armstrong song.

it's something close to peace that you feel. taking in the music silently, robby closes his eyes and leans back in his chair. you make small talk occasionally, learning more about him than you ever knew. how he used to live in chicago, how he's the older sibling of a much younger brother and sister off doing Great Things. you tell him about your favorite bagel spot that you stop by when you have the time and how sometimes, you think your roommate might hate you and not actually tolerate your late-night taco cravings. it's addicting, every smile he gives you, each one more endearing than the one before it. you like that he barely drinks, only sipping after a long conversation. you want to remember this, so you let your drink slowly lessen but don't ask for a second.

his knee stays against yours the whole time, a tender anchor to the moment.

after an hour, the singer graces the stage. her voice is raspy and low, perfect for the songs she picks. "these next few are perfect slow songs, in my opinion. and would you look at that, we've got some empty room on the dance floor." she launches into an etta james song about sundays and you can't help but gather your courage. "dance with me? if your feet aren't too tired, of course." you add, suddenly worried you overstepped. he shakes his head, stepping out of his seat and gesturing you forward. when you look back, you watch robby tuck your purse under his coat and your heart aches. just a little.

at first, you feel like a kid at her first dance. there's too much space between you, his hand so high on your back that it almost reaches your neck. it's hard to move together this far apart, so you take a deep breath and step closer. "this okay?" you whisper, face inches from his. he nods a little sharply, but steps closer until your cheek is flush to his chest. "it's perfect." you smile to yourself and lose yourself to the music.

as more people join the dance floor, robby pulls you snug to his chest. "having fun?" he asks, lips grazing your ear. his hand slides lower, still on the small of your back. it's the most you've ever touched him, felt the woodsy scent of his cologne and the hardness of his torso. "yeah." you mumble, drunk on the music and his presence. he seems to understand, tucking your head under his chin as you sway, his other hand tightening in yours as you grip his shoulder lightly. the singer croons about love and loss and you feel it, right under you.

after a few more songs, the band takes a break. when you pull back from robby, something has changed. he has to have felt this pull in your chest, the one tethered to your heart strings. "take a break with me?" you nod to the quiet hallway that leads to the bathrooms, perfect for a break from the crowd. he follows you loyally, hand hovering at your back as you walk down the hall. voices fall away until it's just you two in some alcove between the bar and the bathroom.

he puts his hands in his pockets and leans against the wall. you take a deep breath and one step forward.

"robby."

his eyes squint when you don't follow with a question and widen when he realizes what you're asking, or not asking.

robby swipes a hand down his face before it falls to his side, tapping the top of his thigh. "we can't." he reasons. your toes touch his shoes, shiny ones you didn't even imagine him owning. "says who?" you murmur, standing your ground. both of his hands are at his sides now, flexing and unflexing. if he wasn't wearing long-sleeves, you'd be tracing the veins. "the pittsburg medical board. gloria." he answers, not doing anything to move from where you stand. this time, it's him who straightens, bringing him closer to your heaving chest.

"i'm not going to tell them." you murmur. there's an instant sense of a mistake as he leans back into the wall. "it's not like that for me. it's- i'm not a casual person." the confession is more than you were hoping for, a long-forgotten dream that lay buried in your heart. "it's not like that for me either, robby. i really liked tonight. i want to do it again."

strong, capable hands cup your face. his thumbs swipe under your eyes, probably ruining your makeup, as he tilts you into his eyesight. "you have no fucking idea how long i've waited for this." he confirms, the tips of his fingers brushing your jaw. "really?" you plead, off-kilter from his sudden admission. "since you found me on that roof, still soaked in blood from two child GSW's." a year and a half ago. your heart pounds and you smile.

"can't deny you anything when you look like that." you're not entirely sure what he means -- when you're covered in blood or when you're in this dress? doesn't matter.

"won't you kiss me, then?"

and he does.

robby kisses like a man possessed. his hands on your face stay there, keeping you open even as you gasp into his mouth. it's not sloppy but toes the line as he keeps himself restrained, only allowing his tongue to peek out when you moan in delight. robby leaves little bites and licks with every sound you make, letting you melt into his arms with your arms around his shoulders.

"i don't want our first time to be tonight. i want to do it right." he demands into the wet heat of your mouth, covering the burn of his words with a solid kiss. you agree but still hitch your leg up around his waist as far as your dress will allow. "these fucking tights." he nips your jaw and you giggle, melding yourself further into him. "c'mere."

you lead him to a one room bathroom, locking the door behind you. instead of the perfectly good countertop, he corners you against the wall, hands sliding up and under your dress. "this okay?" he asks and you whine, pushing your hips further into his grasp. your dress gathers at your waist as he finds the band of your tights digging into your skin. "you gonna let me taste?" you nod, practically begging.

he yanks down your tights and you ignore the sure sound of them ripping, glad they were a sale purchase. "i'll buy you new ones." he promises your inner thighs, kissing gently upwards. with your demolished tights, you're able to swing one leg over his shoulder as he lowers himself onto his knees. you've been wet all night from his touches and it doesn't surprise you when he has to peel your lace underwear off, slick clinging in strings as he works them to the side.

"so wet for me. i know, baby, i know." he hums as you whine impatiently, moving forward until his words land on your empty cunt. he works you like an expert, splitting your folds open as he licks a stripe up and down. almost all the way down.

robby isn't like the college boys who treated this like a task. he lavishes you with kisses, small sucks to your clit that end when you start bucking. the tip of his tongue teases your hole but doesn't go in, seemlingly leaving it for another time. his nose, that strong nose you always catch yourself admiring, presses against your clit and you jolt from the pleasure of it. you fuck yourself a bit on it, encouraged by his moan that pulses through your core. the friction switches between his nose and his tongue and you can't get enough, that tell-tale pressure building in your lower stomach.

"robby, i'm close." you admit, gasping when he sucks your clit even harder. waves build and tense in your core as you chase the feeling, moving your hips without thought. "c'mon, honey. come." he mumbles, muffled by your thighs. like you do everyday in the ER, you follow his command, moaning as you tense and flutter around him. he guides you through it with sloppy licks until you're pushing him away, overstimulation creeping over your shoulders.

his beard is sopping with your slick, something he doesn't seem to care about as he emerges after fixing your underwear. deft fingers guide your feet out and into your heels as he fully frees you of the ripped tights, little brushes to your ankle bone going straight to your heart. it's only after he throws away your tights does he stand, eyes glittering.

you look down at his cock clearly straining against his trousers. when you reach for it, his hand stops you, stroking the soft skin of your wrist. "tonight's not about me." one part of you is disappointed but the other is dreadfully tired, needing rest after all of this excitement. "thank you, robby." you say, unsure of how to feel the silence. his hands grip your waist and he kisses your forehead before he pulls back, thumb swiping over your bitten lips. "call me michael, honey. you want to stay or you done for the night?" you shake your head instantly, exhaustion deep in your bones. "take me home, michael."

when you wake in the late morning, he's still in your bed. if he hadn't been, you would have thought last night was a jazz-induced dream. instead, he's murmuring to someone on the phone sternly. your eyes trace his bare chest down to his boxers, the same chest you fell asleep against last night. you lay a hand on his chest and he covers it with his own, seemingly done with his phone call. "who was that?" you ask, too curious to hold back. "HR." he grins. "haven't even asked me out properly and you're already calling HR." you grumble, inching closer until he gathers you in his arms, kissing the top of your nose.

"will you go out with me, doctor?"

writing this was a fever dream.

if you haven't seen noah wyle dressed up, i highly encourage you to.

#the pitt #michael robinavitch #dr robby #michael robinavitch x female reader #michael robinavitch x reader #female reader #the pitt spoilers #the pitt x reader #dr robby x reader #tornadothoughts #the pitt episode 14 #the pitt finale

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harunayuuka2060 · 15 days ago

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*Leona, Kalim, and Deuce continued to observe Child MC. They noticed how they kept doing their best, yet no longer expected anything in return.*

Deuce: Leona-senpai, why aren’t we doing anything?

Kalim: MC is becoming more and more sad...

Leona: What? You think it's a good idea to swoop in and cheer them up?

Deuce: Isn't that why we're here?

Leona: You’re both missing the point. The issue isn’t Herbivore’s doubt about their father’s care—it’s their heightened awareness of family dynamics. We need a strategic plan; superficial solutions won’t help here.

Kalim: Um, guys?

Child MC: *entered the toy shop, searching for something in particular*

The shop owner: Is there something I can help you with, little one?

Child MC: Um... Do you still sell that teddy bear that looks like this? *shows her a drawing*

The shop owner: ...

The shop owner: *smiles apologetically* I'm sorry. We don't have those anymore.

Child MC: O-Oh...

The shop owner: B-But we have a new arrival! *waves the Leona plush excitedly*

Leona: ...

Leona: What the hell—

Kalim: Isn't that our chance?

Deuce: Yeah! Let's watch a bit more!

Child MC: ...

Child MC: *hesitates* That looks expensive... I can't afford it...

The shop owner: How much money do you have?

Child MC: *hands her their small purse*

The shop owner: *proceeds to count the money inside* *smiles* Well, you're short a few coins, but never mind. I'll give this to you.

Child MC: *their eyes widened* Really?!

The shop owner: *chuckles* Yes. Now cheer up, okay?

Child MC: *beams* Thank you, sister!

Leona: ...

Leona: *sigh*

Kalim: ...Does MC find you adorable?

Leona: Why do you ask?

Kalim: *laughs* It's just— there's no way this is just a coincidence!

Leona: Whatever.

*The scene transitioned to the MC curled up in bed, clutching their Leona stuffed toy.*

Child MC: *staring at it*

Leona, Kalim, and Deuce: ...

Child MC: Are you not gonna scold me?

Leona: !!!

Deuce: Why did they ask that?

Kalim: Could it be...

Child MC: ... I'll give you what you want. You don't have to waste your time like this. But can you convince the others to go back?

Deuce: What are you saying?! We're here to save you!

Leona: ...

Kalim: You don't have to worry about anything!

Leona: ...

Leona: Herbivore, do you know how to escape this place?

Child MC: Hm-hm. Me. Kill me.

Deuce and Kalim: What?!

Leona: ...

Child MC: I'm your easiest way out—you won't get this chance from the others.

Leona: ...

Leona: Is this a trick?

Child MC: Nope. So I hope you'll trust me and leave this place.

Leona: ...

Leona: *smirks* I'm hurt. Is that what we are to you—cowards?

Kalim: Leona—

Child MC: ...

Child MC: No... I highly respect each and every one of you—even if some of you are crooked.

Leona: Ha, then blindly trust us—as you always do.

Child MC: ...

Child MC: *tears up* *smiles* Hm!

Vil: What's taking them so long?

Epel: Don't tell me something happened to them—

Leona, Kalim, and Deuce: *have returned*

Jack and Ruggie: Leona!

Leona: Hush.

Malleus: Did you succeed?

Leona: Ha! Who do you take me for? *waves the mirror shard*

Leona: Six more to go.

Ace: What was it like?

Deuce: We met the child version of the Prefect.

Kalim: ...

Jamil: Kalim? Is there something wrong?

Kalim: ...They tried to offer us an easy way out.

Deuce: ...

Leona: I won’t go into details, but... their younger self had the purest intentions. That means we can’t be as sure about the others.

Everyone: ...

Malleus: I see. Thank you for your insight, Kingscholar.

Professor Trein: Is there no possible way to release the students?

Maleficia: ...

Maleficia: You shouldn't worry about the students; they'll only be captive for a short while.

Professor Trein: ...

Professor Trein: What do you mean?

Maleficia: The demon’s attention is devoted solely to one individual... The others are beneath his notice.

Baul: Your Majesty...

Maleficia: Baul... three days. If they’re still not back by then, you know what I must do. The demon’s realm... MC... it will fall to me.

Professor Trein: ...

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst leona #twst kalim #twst deuce #twst maleficia #twst trein #twst baul #twst book 8 fic

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elllisaaa · 8 months ago

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ateez when their s/o gives them cutness aggression

-> words count : 963 words

-> genre : fluff

-> sorry if I made any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !

-> author's note : @mjilv gave me the idea of doing an ateez version so here it is ! hope you'll like it !

-> masterlist | ateez masterlist

svt version | ateez version

KIM HONGJOONG

cause of the aggression : hongjoong coming home very sleepy after a long day working at the studio.

actually, it’s more the way he latches on you as soon as he spots you that melts your heart.

you immediately wrap your arms around him and bury your nose in his hair, then you leave a string of kisses on the crown of his head.

even after so many hours working, he still smells so good and you’re a little jealous.

and hongjoong is too tired to try and stop you from doing your thing, on the contrary, he relaxes even more in your embrace, quietly humming in satisfaction.

“how was your day joongie ?”

“so much better now that I’m with you.”

PARK SEONGHWA

cause of the aggression : seonghwa proudly showing off the new lego set he just built.

you had always thought that your boyfriend’s passion for lego was endearing, but the way he always seeks out your approval on everything he adds to his collection makes you want to keep him with you forever.

so instead of paying attention to the piece in his hands, you squish his cheeks and kiss his lips repeatedly instead.

seonghwa whines a few times, asking you what you are doing but honestly, he loves the affection so he quickly shuts up.

“now, what were you saying, baby ?”

“i’m not sure i wanna talk about legos now. can you kiss me again instead ?”

JEONG YUNHO

cause of the aggression : you know the golden retriever energy he has ? yeah, that is enough.

because why does his whole face light up when he finds you in the cereal aisle at the grocery store, showing off the new ice cream flavors he’s been wanting to try.

and you don’t care that you’re in public because you just need to show him that you love him.

so you grab his arm and stand on your tippy toes to be able to kiss his cheeks as many times as you want.

and yunho’s giggles as you do it don’t help calm you down.

“what was that for ?”

“don’t act like you don’t know how cute you are, jeong yunho.”

KANG YEOSANG

cause of the aggression : you know the way he’s looking above himself sometimes ? that is literally the cutest thing ever wtf ???

so when you pass behind the couch and your boyfriend does that, you cannot help the urge to bend down and leave a trail of kisses along his forehead.

yeosang sometimes doesn’t understand you, but he loves your kisses so he lets you do your thing.

when you finally let him go, you notice his red ears, and you chuckle lightly before giving him a real kiss on the lips.

“i’m never getting used to this.”

“good, i want you to be surprised everytime i come out of nowhere to give you affection.”

CHOI SAN

cause of the aggression : san pouting at you because you don’t want to sleep with him due to the unbearable heat of the summer.

you were already sweating like crazy, and you didn’t want to wake up in the middle of the night all sticky because your boyfriend wasn’t able to keep his hands off of you.

but the way he was pleading you with his whole face was too cute to ignore.

so you simply sighed as you settled in his arms again and went to kiss his pouty lips. and as soon as you were done with your attack, san was all smiley again.

“you’re such a child.”

“maybe, but you love me.”

SONG MINGI

cause of the aggression : his big smile, the one that makes me want to kill myself because he’s too fucking pretty for this world.

when he’s smiling like that, it’s already hard to manage, but when that smile is directed at you, it’s impossible to pass on the opportunity to kiss his whole face.

so you don’t hesitate to cup his face in your hands and press your lips against every inch of his skin.

and his smile doesn’t leave him as you go on, his own hands going down to grab your waist.

as soon as you’re done, he’s pressing a kiss to your own lips, and his eyes are filled with love.

“i really don’t deserve you.”

“you do mingi, you deserve the world.”

JUNG WOOYOUNG

cause of the aggression : we all know how cute he is when he’s taking care of kids so seeing him be all lovey dovey with your little cousins makes your heart flutter.

as soon as wooyoung said his goodbyes to the little girl because you had to go, you’re all over him.

he doesn’t understand what’s happening, and he’s whiny at the beginning, trying to push you off of him.

but he progressively gives up on his plan and simply lets you do your thing.

and when you finally let him go - and breathe some fresh air - he cannot hide his cheeky smile.

“something’s wrong with you, i swear.”

“as if you’re not just as crazy !”

CHOI JONGHO

cause of the aggression : once again, the smile. like, his big gummy smile… killing myself again.

no but how can you resist him when he’s smiling at you like that ?? you can’t !

so even if he didn’t ask for this, you kiss his face as many times as you can before jongho starts to protest.

but both of you know that it’s only to try and keep his composure, because he loves it when you’re showering him with your love like that.

but he has a reputation to hold (he has none but you let him believe it because he’s cute).

“all of that just because of my smile ?”

“don’t play dumb ! you know very well how weak i am !”

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

ateez taglist (fill in this to added) :

@sharonxdevi @hann1bee @lil-kpopstan @heevllog @lichyuu @foxinnie8 @lovelyuyu

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