#Unless someones glaring at my posts now in that case hi! What do you think 🌪️ means??

[obnoxiousarcade]

I have so many weird bonds with Tumblr users lol But it's all one sided

[lalunanymph]

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋, 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄 — g. satoru

; 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 a strange man whisks you away to safety only to disappear when you least expected it

cw sugar daddy!gojo, smut (lots of it), minors shoo, 18+, barely proofread, 5.8k+ words, based on this post

; today i offer you the sugar daddy!gojo au no one asked for tomorrow who knows

You met Gojo Satoru on the last day of November. 

The streets were echoing with the sound of boots and winter shoes, a light layer of frost covering the sidewalks and naked branches above.

It had been a slow day at your izakaya, the patrons still enmeshed in their daily workload that you were forced to tick your eyes towards the old clock behind you to count down the minutes to happy hour. 

At least with some people around, you could dull the lonely throb in the middle of your chest; the one which hoped that someone would at least make some time to tell you about their day today.

As you muddled with your mundane task of wiping down some silverware, your eyes caught the faintest movement from the doorway. 

Tall, impossibly handsome and with a presence that would draw every eye on him, it wasn’t hard to figure out that he lavished in attention. You had deciphered his motive the second he swaggered to you, a cheeky smile on his pouting lips.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” 

You scoffed, wiping down the counter. Fate had thrown you a curveball where instead of a sweet patron you could chat with, you were faced with yet another customer who couldn't keep it in his pants. Strangely enough, it was way too early in the day for them to be this bold and the man before you didn’t look the slightest bit drunk. Maybe he was a special case. 

“Is that the best you can come up with?”

“Cut me some slack, sweetheart. It’s four in the afternoon.”

“Very astute. And yet here you are, trying to disturb a woman working an honest job.” 

His eyes behind those stupid sunglasses raked up and down your figure. "Honest job? Yes. Honest woman? Not much."

You stopped your motions, fixing him with an icy glare. "And what's that supposed to mean?" 

"It means I know you're messing with someone you shouldn't, little girl."

Your blood froze over, though you didn't let him get the upper hand with your perfected poker face. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

His annoying cheery smile never faltered. "Let me walk you back home."

“No thanks.”

The smile he wore was edged with a glint of something darker, a smug uptick of his jaw. “It wasn’t a request. Unless you want to wake up in another life, then be my guest!” 

He turned around, one hand in his pocket, another raised in a mockery of a wave. 

The ice in your veins solidified and you didn’t know what compelled you to falter in your resolution to trust another man when you said: “Wait.”

A soft thud of his footfall on the sticky lacquered floor seemed to echo through your blaring mind. He turned his head back slightly, and through the peek of his glasses and sharp cheekbone, you noticed how bright and blue his eyes were.

Something about the brilliant hue and the look on his face melted through the defences you held fast for the better part of your life. 

“I am… I think I am in danger. What do you know?” 

The man tilted his head to the side. It was ridiculous to trust a stranger. But, for the sake of your curiosity, you had to try. 

“Satoru,” he gave you his name with a childish wink. “Gojo Satoru. Now, about that offer to walk you home…”

Gojo’s palm was warm on your lower back, melting through the layers of your work dress and trench coat. Every hair on your body was standing on end from his touch, your throat swallowing the dryness gathering like a eulogy waiting to be expelled into the frosty thin air. 

Silently, you snuck a glance at him, bowed down by his blatant good looks. Keeping your eyes latched onto the ground, you missed the twitch in the corner of his lip, his eyelids fluttering shut, as if he could walk with his eyes closed.

“You said I was in danger?”

Even the words were hard to solidify into the real world. You cleared your throat, forcing the hoarseness through the tight pinprick of fear which clamped around your soundless despair.

“I would say it’s more than that. You’re just caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Kiyosaki Kyouta. That name ring a bell?”

In the hazy recesses of your mind, you distinctly remembered a gust of hot breath on your neck, the press of a pinstripe tie against a strip of tattooed skin. 

“Vaguely,” you hummed. “What about him?” 

“Well… you really don’t know how to pick your clients, I’ll give you that,” his attempt at humour was amusing only to himself. “But, I do understand the streets of Kyoto must be dry of bastards, and you had rent to pay… wait, where was I going with this?” 

“Kiyosaki Kyouta,” you muttered impatiently. “You said that bastard’s bad news?” 

“Ah, yes!” he snapped his long fingers, and you were drawn to the clean nail beds and neat edges. 

A man who cared about his outward appearance a little too much. “Evil man. Horrible. I have a bone to pick with him, and it kinda leads to you. Might have tipped off some important people on your location. I would apologise but this is actually good news for you!

"Anyway, what do you think about moving in with me for a week?” 

Unpacking your bags as Tokyo’s skyline greeted you was not how you expected to spend your Wednesday morning. 

After your little confusing chat with Gojo, you reckoned it was safer to put your life in the hands of a man who knew the ins and outs of your client’s mysterious life than to risk it all in your cramped, unguarded apartment. 

Gojo had left you with a salute and a shit-eating grin to adjust yourself in one of his many penthouses. Emphasis on ‘many’. 

You had no idea he was this loaded, and truth be told, the idea of many yen signs attached to his name sounded intriguing. You wanted to know more about this mysterious Gojo Satoru. 

A quick Google image search gave nothing away, and even Facebook was no help in understanding the enigma who had invited you into his home to protect your life. 

One night he came back, after leaving you for two days to your own vices, and you had had enough.

“Well?” you asked with an arch of your brow, hands crossed over your chest. “Can I go home now?” 

Gojo’s lanky figure was a source of frustration for you when you had to crane your neck to look up at him. His effervescent grin at your expense was back. “Why? Missed your bed? Not as comfy as mine?” 

You knew he was taunting you—could feel it in your bones—but what you did next was irrational as anything that came before that. 

Your hand flew towards his chest, about to hit it when it stopped. Completely. In mid-air. No matter how hard you tried to push towards the broad expanse of muscle, it wouldn’t budge. 

“What the hell—?”

“It’s my cursed technique—sorry. Superpower. Do you believe in sorcerers?” 

Your mouth fell open in a disbelieving ‘O’. 

For the next hour or so, Gojo sat you down to explain about a world hidden from yours. A world of curses, secrets and jujutsu. Energy and manifestations. Fears and delusions. 

It all created what he called Curses and he was one of the strongest ones tasked to exorcise them. 

After he finished, you sat back, in a complete daze from what you had just heard.

“H-how does this link back to Kiyosaki Kyouta?” 

Your voice was hoarse, like you were on the verge of tears. Gojo offered no sympathy when he shrugged and snickered. “Kyouta is one of the bad sorcerers. I was sent to hunt him but somehow, his traces landed on you. Some whore or another who latches onto men for their money. Naturally, his co-workers want to find out where he disappeared to and the last place he ever visited was your shitty izakaya.” 

You blinked, and your chest caved in. 

“So, that’s why it’s dangerous for me to be in public?” 

“Technically speaking, you’re not even supposed to be alive. People like you—non sorcerers—aren’t allowed to know about our world. But, it’s fine. I won’t kill you and neither will the higher ups in my community. You’re just a would-be casualty that I have to keep out of harm’s way until the dust clears.”

Gojo grinned. “In the meantime, how about we get to know a little bit about each other? I know you take off clothes for a living—”

“Shut up,” you glowered hotly. “You have no idea what choices pushed me to be here.” 

“Ah, but it must be a horrible life you lived to push you into these ideals—”

“My family were religious nutjobs.” 

For the first time since you met him, Gojo Satoru was rendered speechless. The truth you held back for a good few years spilled from your lax lips, unburdened to this relative stranger who you knew nothing about. 

After you were done remembering a past tainted by a psychopathic mother, repentant father and a small town you were forced to escape from, Gojo slumped back onto the sofa, a telltale purse of concentration puckering his lips. 

“Shit,” he punctuated his succinct observation with a low whistle. You thought he would offer you sympathy, or at least a sneer of disbelief. Not— “You wanna have a drink?” 

Drinking with Gojo was an unexpected occurrence, but you figured that when it came to a man like Satoru, it was best to go with the flow rather than resist it. He could barely handle his liquor, and you were no better. Years in this seedy industry hadn’t hardened your resilience to alcohol as much as you wanted to believe, and when you slumped against his broad shoulder, he didn’t fight you off.

Gojo smelled good. Your hazy mind detected notes of citrus and the sea from his frosty white locks. 

“If I kissed you right now, would you fight me off?” 

His voice, low and a hum, pierced through your mind like a ringing gunshot. You sat up, trying to focus your glassy eyes on him.

Emboldened by the liquor, you mumbled, “Depends on how you kiss me.” 

His soft lips were on yours in a heartbeat. 

Kissing Gojo was a sensation you could not describe. Imagine riding a rollercoaster, but instead of freefalling, you were shooting straight up to the atmosphere. You kept on climbing higher and higher, until your lungs ached and your heartbeat stuttered behind your eyelids. 

Even his lanky, large frame pressing you onto the carpeted floor could not bring you down from hurtling head first into his devouring kisses. Gojo mouthed hungrily at your lower lip, the slip of his warm tongue gliding along the seam of your mouth, parting it easily like water does to sugar paper. 

Nothing could keep him from coaxing you to intertwine deeper with him, but the slide of that damning tongue against yours, and the messy clash of teeth was close enough to convince you. The hot press of those large palms on the small sliver of skin exposed from your shirt riding up drove you dizzy with lust, the ache between your thighs thrumming hotly. 

Gojo was steadily leading you down a path you could not come back from. There was more at stake than your safety; your future was figuratively held in those nimble, knobbly fingers that were pale like snow and long like a talented pianist. 

He could decide when you were safe. Only he was the one you would trust with your life. 

After all, he hadn’t given you reason to doubt him.

Spreading your thighs wider to accommodate him in between them, you let him grasp your hips, tugging the elastic waistband of your shorts down. Once you were fully exposed, your cheeks warmed, and a sliver of sobriety started to encroach your consciousness. 

Those icy blue eyes were alight with a fire you had never seen before. The smooth pads of his fingers glided up your ribcage, skimming the hardness of your bra cup, implicitly asking for permission. 

Despite not knowing anything about him but his name and his terrible secret, you lifted yourself up, perching on your elbows. Gojo’s dark shades slipped down the bridge of his shapely nose, and you ignored the voice in your head to be careful when you gently pinched the wireframe of the expensive Ray Bans, carefully removing it and placing it on his coffee table. 

Finally unveiled to you with no barriers, his brilliant eyes render you speechless. You had stolen glances of them behind the dark glass, but nothing could prepare you for the brilliance of looking at them without them. 

You felt like you could drown in those baby blue depths, those thick white lashes framing his beautiful eyes tickling your bare neck. His soft kisses followed next, full of a strange restricted passion you could feel thrumming from his fingertips over your ribs as they slowly ascended up the column of your neck and towards your jaw. 

Gojo hummed, the tip of his tongue tracing your jawline with precise teasing. 

Splotches of red adorned his cheeks, giving him a certain humanness you had never noticed from this sculpture of a strange man. Something about that little blip gave way to his vulnerability, and it made your heart sing. 

Strong fingers snapped your bra off, and then your panties, and finally, you had nothing to hide yourself from his piercing blue eyes. They shone with an effervescent emotion you could not name, and your heartbeat doubled when you peered down the length of your body, noticing his cheek pressed to your pelvis. 

Gojo was a large man, though you hadn’t noticed it in the beginning. Hidden by his button down shirt, you feasted on the visual carnival of muscles rippled across his nimble body, biceps pulsing and abs undulating when he scooted down to your pelvis level. A smug grin adorned his peachy lips, and you flushed with want at the sight of him kissing your hip bone softly. 

“Cat got your tongue,” he teased. 

You pursed your lips, darting your eyes to land on a painting beside you rather than the man poised in between your thighs to pleasure you. 

“Shut up.” 

“Feisty,” Gojo drawled. “But, no matter. They’re always stubborn until they’re begging for more.”

You were about to snap that you weren’t going to stoop low enough to plead for him when you felt his mouth brushing your honeyed folds. 

There was something electrifying about Gojo Satoru. 

His movements burned through you, seared your protests off your kiss-bruised lips. You could do nothing but let him have his way with you. 

Gojo sampled you like you were a foreign dessert, taking his time to memorise your taste. 

Your fingers twisted in his silky, white locks, and he moaned deeply in appreciation when you started to tug on them. The vibrations edged your core towards a release you felt welling inside of you like a violent wave. 

No man had ever taken his time to eat you out this thoroughly—like you were worth the decadent lust you were denied from a life of selfish lovers.

Gojo Satoru was anything but selfish with you. 

Every curl of his tongue and soft moan got you higher towards that sacred spot. He was leading you straight into heaven, sparks flying off behind your tightly squeezed eyes. 

You felt his hand on your hip, massaging it lightly. 

“Don’t keep me waiting… cum for me, princess.” 

That nickname and his sultry command set off a series of fireworks down your spine. You arched your back, a scream of his name released into this echoing hall of his penthouse. 

“Gojo!” 

He laced his fingers with yours, prolonging your high by sucking hard on your clit, hard enough to leave a mark behind. 

Strong arms wrapped you to his side, and Gojo laid next to you, the stretch of his toned body melting with yours. 

“Fuck,” you whispered, eyes crossing from the pleasure holding you in its thrumming hostage. “That was…” 

He hummed, lifting you to straddle his lap. The thick nudge of his cock brought you back to the ground, the pleasure singing in your veins rising to a crescendo. 

“So tight,” he whispered, more to himself. “I’m going to ruin you.” 

You hoped he did. You hoped he would keep that promise—forever. 

The expanse of his chest was the terrain which your hands ran over, memorising every dip and sharp jut from his defined collarbone to his washboard abs. You couldn’t keep your touch from roaming down the fine smattering of white hair leading straight to the throbbing length currently nudging past your tight opening. 

Once he settled in, a wince of pleasure overtook both your features. Gojo lolled his head to the side, cursing softly, his hair bleeding across the floor like the first fall of snow. 

In this position, he left the control entirely up to you—a first you would never expect from such a self-possessed man.

You moved in tandem to his controlled grinding. One thing led to another, and you were somehow pressed to the wall, legs wrapped around his slim waist. 

This close, you had no idea how blind you had been to his sheer size. Towering over you and easily hooking your thighs around his body, Gojo bounced you up and down his cock like you were a rag doll, drawing out your sweet moans which were like music to his ears. 

“That’s it,” he coaxed, his hoarse voice drawing you to the edge like a wave to the shore. “I feel you squeezing down on me.” 

Those prettiest blue eyes pinned your full attention onto him, and you couldn’t resist leaning forward, smushing your mouth with his in a messy attempt at a kiss. Gojo kissed you back with equal fervour, and the fever pitch lust he incited and you reacted to was reaching its peak. 

Both your bodies trembled from the onslaught of a release that shook your cores. 

Gojo slid to his knees with a low groan bringing you along with him—the strongest sorcerer in the world weakened by your perfect pussy squeezing down on him. 

You nuzzled his cheek, panting his name softly. “Gojo…”

“Satoru,” he mumbled, almost inaudibly. 

You felt his fingers twist the hair at the nape of your neck, feathering soft caresses on the sensitive strip of skin with the pad of his thumb. 

“Call me Satoru.” 

Your relationship with Gojo Satoru was strange, to say the least.

After rocking your entire world that night, he disappeared the morning after. No calls, no notes.

All he left behind was his black card, and later during the afternoon, an unknown number texted you: ‘Go crazy <3’ 

So, you did. 

You bought yourself clothes, makeup, and skincare which you couldn’t previously afford with your salary as a waitress. You reasoned that if you were going to live with this unknown man for an extended period of time, you were going to make your stay as comfortable as possible.

The other sugar daddies who had treated you to a taste of luxury were faint shadows in your mind. Your entire world was consumed fully by Satoru. He was easily richer than any man who had tried to woo you. It was as if his bank account was bottomless. 

Though he had never explicitly asked you to be his sugar baby, his true intention was seen when he returned three days later, bending you over the couch until you squirted all over his picture-perfect abs. 

Later, he left yet another credit card on his flawless mahogany dining table, and this time, you had no qualms in getting yourself sets of lingerie, which you sent to that unknown number in hopes that he would see it. 

You never expected him to turn up at the door an hour later, an easy grin on his plush lips even as the veins were bulging in his forearm from his tightly clenched fists.

“Wrong number, sweetheart,” he chortled, removing the strange purple uniform he wore to reveal the white button down underneath. The material fell to the floor with a heavy thud. “That was Ijichi you were trying to seduce, but I’ll forgive you.” 

“Ijich—” 

You barely had time to utter another man’s name, not when your words were swallowed completely by his smothering kiss. 

Gojo guided you towards the table, and you realised a second too late what he was doing until your head was hanging from the edge, your mouth wide open and waiting. He removed his pants, and palmed your heavy tit with one hand. 

“Are you wearing it underneath this stupid shirt?” 

His voice was edged with something dark and demanding. You nodded, glassy eyes catching his blown-wide ones. 

Satoru didn’t waste time in removing the bothersome t-shirt you wore, revealing the silky white set you bought which matched his hair. 

“Like an angel,” he whispered, and gave you no time to reply, not when his cock was slowly easing down your throat.

You would’ve thought that sucking Satoru off like this would be demeaning, but Gojo never once made you feel like a whore for falling into your deeper instincts. You wanted to please him, and he wanted you to please him. 

It was an equal give and take that left you both shaking and slick with sweat. 

Satoru eyed your writhing body and thought that the world’s best art instalments would never do justice to the piece of poetry unfurling before him. He had seen Monet, DaVinci and Van Gogh in real life, but none of them could quite capture the euphoria of your flushed cheeks and swollen lips wrapping around his cock like a love offering. 

Without warning, he withdrew his length from your mouth, and you were straddling his lap in a blink of an eye. Satoru’s superpowers—as you liked to call them—made him faster and more nimble than any man you had ever slept with. 

Sinking you down on his cock, Gojo set a pace that rattled your teeth, leaving you like putty to his ministrations. His face was buried in the crook of your neck, muffled whines of “fuck… feel so good” bruising your skin like the marks he left on the same spot. 

You were growing delirious from the high, every sensory overload screaming out his name like a siren. 

Gojo had this uncanny ability to know your body better than you did, and you almost hated how easily it was for him to get you crumbling. As if your walls never existed in the first place, you fell for his lopsided grin and the tender way he cupped your face as he kissed you senseless. 

Your heart was a puddle right under your spread thighs, obvious for the world to see. 

Gojo Satoru had wormed himself under your skin, and he was never going to leave. 

You had to make sure of it.

“Stay tonight,” you whispered against his lips while he continued to piston his slick cock in and out of you. 

Gojo hoped you didn’t feel the tremble of his lower lip against yours. Prayed that the hitch in his breath would be taken as his orgasm quickly approaching and not as a nameless, terrifying feeling he was fighting hard to not succumb to. 

Your eyes were closed, like you were praying, though realistically, Gojo knew it was because of your impending orgasm about to drag you under. 

“Hmm,” he murmured in what he hoped was a noncommittal hum. 

Leaving you without an answer, Satoru chose to play with your clit as a means to distract you from his torn thoughts. He thumbed the greasy bud until you gasped and your back bowed, a look of painful reprieve overtaking your entire expression. 

“Satoru…” 

A sharp inhale and one quick tremble. Gojo felt you cum all over his cock. 

Your eyes drooped close, the hormones and oxytocin leaving you floating on a cloud of satisfaction that you didn’t feel him carrying you into his bedroom. 

The sensation of a warm blanket engulfing you filled your woozy mind with more cotton, and you briefly registered the feeling of someone sliding under the covers together with you. 

More warmth wrapped around you, and in a simple instant, you were fast asleep, completely unaware of Gojo’s tightening embrace as he held you close to his heart—like you would disappear the second he opened his eyes. 

You never thought Satoru would leave you, but he did. 

Where you both would frequently text and exchange memes throughout the day, everything went radio silent on an unexpected note. 

The messages you sent him wouldn’t go through, green bubbles of confusion on the screen leaving you laced with nausea for his safety. On the second day of no contact, you decided to venture out on your own. 

Satoru had never explicitly kept you under lock and key, but when he was around, you found that you didn’t want to escape his clutches. 

The outside world seemed different without him. The sun was bleached of its colour, and the trees felt fake. It was like a rendered movie your eyes were not used to. 

Everywhere you went, you hoped you would stumble into him. Down a corner of the street, past a restaurant he once told you about which served the best ramen. Your heart hummed with Gojo’s name, and yet, this empty world could not answer your wishes.

Two days turned into four, and by the fifth, a man from your past reached back to you. 

You had lived long enough in this sinful life to know when someone was done with you. Gojo Satoru had probably chewed on you long enough till your presence was tasteless to him, and had left to cleanse his palette with someone else. It wouldn’t be the first time a man has done this. 

I thought he was different. 

But, he was like every other man you had been with. They all eventually got tired of you.

A dull thrum took up space where your heart once pulsed with life. You went through the motions—fucking your ex-fling, Mori, taking his money, spending it on little niceties that brightened your day for a nanosecond before it went back to grey. 

You would never have expected the call that came exactly nineteen days after you had left Gojo’s penthouse. 

It was seven in the morning, too early for you to be awake unless you had work. The weekend was today, and you were hoping to get in your much needed eight hours of sleep, but the shrill tone of your phone would not leave you alone.

You answered it in your half-grogginess. 

“Hello?” 

“Sweetheart?” 

Just like that, the colours of the world came back to life. 

Your eyes shot wide open, a thrill of excitement and disbelief forcing you from the bed.

With your heart in your throat, you uttered the shades of a name you missed the most on your tongue. 

“S-Satoru?” 

“It’s me, gorgeous. Where are you? Why’re you not home?” 

Home. The word throbbed like a tender wound in your soul. Gojo thought you belonged in his home. 

“I’m—”

Before you could speak, the man next to you yawned loudly and pawed your ass. Ignoring your tiny yelp, he rubbed his spiky cheek against your shoulder. “Who’s that, baby?” 

Loud enough for Satoru to hear from his end. 

You held your breath the moment Gojo expelled his noisily. 

“Baby?” His voice was saccharine sweet. Deceptive. “Are you with another man?” 

“I—” 

“No, no. I understand,” you could picture his glossy lips stuck in a pout and ached to kiss him thoroughly. “I left without an explanation. I’m on my way.” 

The second his call ended, you heard a loud crack coming from the foot of your bed. Mori jerked back like a dog scalded with hot water at the sight of your previous lover’s mischievous grin. 

“Aha. Knew I would find you here,” he crowed triumphantly to you. As for the man who had warmed your bed while he was gone, Satoru faked a pout. “Aw. I think you stayed way past your welcome. You should skedaddle, don’t you think?” 

“Wait,” Mori gruffly got up from the bed, his bloodshot eyes narrowed. “Who the fuck are you—”

One second, he was right next to you, and the next, he was gone.

Your scream was cut short when Gojo materialised next to you, palm over your mouth to muffle your sobs. 

“Relax,” he crooned. “I just sent him to the train station… in his underwear.” You hiccuped, fixing your wide, glossy onto his smiling face, suddenly afraid. You had no idea of the extent of Satoru’s powers and you were too scared to find out. But, he never gave you any more reason to be alarmed, his genial smile never faltering. 

“I think it’s time we both went home, don’t you?” 

He lifted you into his arms like you weighed next to nothing. You blinked and your room seemed to shimmer, a creeping heat crawling all over your body. 

“Satoru—”

You barely had time to yell out his name in warning when you opened your eyes and found yourself in his living room. 

Dumbfounded, your mind pinged around like a lost signal, unable to wrap around the fact that you had basically teleported halfway across from Tokyo. Satoru set you down on your wobbly feet, and you lurched forward, palms pressed to his sturdy chest.

“Careful, pumpkin.” 

The black tee he wore stretched gloriously over his muscles, and for a split second, you took a minute to rake your eyes up and down his broader frame. 

Did Satoru start to workout while he was gone?

His biceps were thicker, and the widened frame of his body left you tethering in shock. 

There was no way a person could get this buff in such a short time. 

The Satoru before had a good amount of muscle, but the Satoru now was practically god-like. It struck a note of fear in you, one which he noticed.

“Sweetheart?” he gently coaxed, using two fingers to tip your face up to look at him. His blue eyes—shifting like the ocean—welcomed you into his waves. “It’s still me. Don’t be scared.”

Your words lodged in the back of your throat like a cough which you could never release. They itched and ached to tell him how much you missed him, but you were so very scared he would never reciprocate those feelings.

“Where did you go?” you bleated pathetically instead. “You were gone for so long.”

“It’s quite a story,” he drawled, and those blue eyes sparkled with mischief though they were tempered by something else. A certain loss you could feel on the tips of your fingers when you caressed his cheeks. “I think I’ll tell you later—after I’m done fucking you.” 

He kept true to his word. 

Gojo spent the entire morning in between your legs, eating you out while you shook and moaned his name over and over again. The walls were starting to spin, the drool had long dried on your chin and he was still tonguing your folds with the precision of a master. 

Hazy-eyed and weak, you mewed his name, and Gojo allowed your fingers to tug on the roots of his hair. 

“Feeling good, baby?” 

You were too fucked out to speak, nodding instead. 

Gojo chuckled quietly to himself and removed the last article of his clothing—his black pants—to reveal his pale, beautiful cock already throbbing with anticipation. Your breath hitched when he circled the blushing tip against your needy clit, and your whine was pleasure personified the second he slid into your tight heat.

The man you so desperately wanted to belong to held you close to his chest while his large palms grasped your fleshy thighs, using them to guide you up and down his length. 

All the while your mouth was latched onto his, your whispers of his name melting into a deluge of more, more, more. Those whines would be the death of him—if Satoru had not perished in the Prison Realm, he was sure he would’ve lost his soul right in the lock-up of your arms. 

You were kissing him like your life depended on it, and maybe, just maybe, Satoru was deluded enough to believe you loved him.

It was worth a shot when he asked: “Are you mine?” 

Your answer was a teary little nod and a hiccup of his name. “Y-yours.” 

That was all the confirmation he needed. 

Satoru doubled down on his thrusts, trying to get you to that sacred place in between pleasure and overstimulation. Your legs trembled around him, and your whimpers fueled him to catch his breath, his eyes fluttering shut.

The both of you exploded in complete ecstasy, your bodies writhing on the large couch as pleasure burned through the late morning light. 

His arms were leadened weights around you, and your breath was caught in your throat when you came about to find him smiling down at you.

“What?” you tried to scowl. 

Satoru smirked, using the pad of his index finger to smoothen out the crinkle in between your brow. 

“Nothing.”

“It’s something.” 

“I told you—it’s nothing.”

You thinned your lips together to avoid a silly grin from spreading. “You are such a horrible liar.”

“Me?” he pretended to gasp, putting a hand on his pale, sweaty chest. “Ugh. You’re soooo wrong, sweetie.”

“Am I?” you challenged. 

Satoru’s grin was infectious, and you found yourself smiling dopily in response. 

“You know what, you may be right,” he admitted.

“About what?” you hummed, drawing his hand close to your lips and kissing his knuckles.

“That you’re mine.” 

You paused, and the morning sunlight twinkled in his ocean-blue eyes, skittering across the surface of your shocked expression like a ripple over crystal water. 

Here goes nothing. “And I’m yours.”

Your silence was nerve-wrecking and Satoru wished your cheek wasn’t pressed onto his chest where you could hear the maddening beat of his heart.

His thoughts came to a futile halt when you laughed—a sweet, chiming melody that was delicious than any treat he ever had in his life. Your wide and honest expression made something deep in his soul cave, and the next words you whispered kindled in him a flame for life he thought had long extinguished.

“I never got the chance to say this… but, welcome home, Satoru.” 

— feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated <33

© all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.

[9toji]

could i please request some kind of hc/drabble of what character/s you think would be good at being publicly protective of reader? coming from someone paranoid of men in public, what characters do you think would take a fear like that seriously and make you feel safe?

thank you 💗🙏🏽

‧₊˚✩彡 KEEP YOU SAFE ! — jjk & bllk boys

characters ; gojo, megumi, kunigami (post-wildcard), rin

rina's comments ; i hope you're okay anon! i made this extra fluffy for you <3 i didnt know whether to write for jjk or bllk so i did both! hope you enjoy!! <3

tags ; established relationship, they keep you safe wherever you go

gojo was always the type to make you feel safe and to protect you, there are lots of things he'd like to shield you from but he lets you do what makes you happy, he doesn't want to feel like he's suffocating you. satoru always wants to see you safe and happy after all.

always the type to squeeze your hand in crowds, to make sure you two pass through with ease. being that tall had its advantages, he looks back at you a few times to make sure you're okay and that you're still beside him before leading you out of the sea of people on the streets.

assuring you that you were safe, in case you felt a little worried. “i'm here pretty thing, you're okay.” he whispers into your ear before proceeding to walk to wherever he wants to take you, you two always go out just because gojo loves trying new restaurants that he spots whenever he's away at work but he brings you so you don't feel left out and you get to eat the food he also wants to eat.

satoru spoils you with gifts whenever you two go out, even if you insist that you don't need such things. now, you have keychains dangling from your purse than matches his, keychains of little sushi figures that you two bought from a restaurant that sells them. “now we match!” he exclaims with a cheeky grin and a kiss to your forehead.

megumi isn't protective unless you two are outside, asking you to cling on to his arm while you two walk. and for both your pleasure, he holds your hand which he rarely does at home because his hands get all sweaty but during dates he insists to, so he can keep you close.

even when his hands get sweaty, he grips on to your hand tight. “i'll keep you close, let's wipe my hand off later.” megumi is shy about it, the fact that his hand gets sweaty because even though he's been with you for a while, he still gets a little nervous and shaky about physical touch.

on dates, he takes you to art galleries and small underground cafes. and when you ask about how he knows about such places since they're pretty unknown, he murmurs gojo's name which makes you laugh. knowing that gojo offers him advice too. even when the places you go to have few people inside, megumi is cautious.

“let's go look around, hold on to me.. okay?” your boyfriend asks with a soft tone, placing a soft kiss on your forehead as you two walk around. your hand and his own sweaty hand keeping you two close to each other, wiping his hand down with tissues whenever you two rest and sit down on benches.

kunigami is very protective of you, even when his demeanor doesn't really show it. “stay close.” he huffs indignantly, but there's a faint blush tainting his cheeks as you wrap you arm around him. always the one to give accidental resting bitch faces as he walks down the sidewalk, making him look scarier than he actually is.

he's the type to bring you to cutesy cafes, just because you want to. even to plushie stores where he examines each and every one, keeping you close by with a slight grin. kunigami loves seeing you happy, and so he squeezes your hand, and when you make a little ow! sound, he apologizes. not meaning to hurt you in his little moment of having butterflies.

every person or more specifically men that approach you whenever he goes off to the restroom receives a dirty look or a glare, the severity depending on the situation. his muscular arm placed on the man's shoulder as he gives a very simple, but scary-sounding, warning. “back off, they're mine.”

and when the man leaves, kunigami blinks at him with a confused look. not meaning to make the man extremely afraid of him, he looks to you and smiles. “at least you're safe, let's go?” rensuke asks as he lets you drag him away, inspecting more cute trinkets that caught your eye.

as a soccer celebrity, which rin hated being called by the way.. came with its advantages. not that he gets swarmed by loads of soccer fans but he does ask his bodyguards to accompany you on dates, which is a little awkward but he insists, because it means it'll give you two more room to breathe and it'll mean you'll be safe a lot more.

the go-to dating spots between you two are always expensive restaurants, that serve good food but in miniscule portions. so one day, you ask rin if you two could eat out to somewhere where you can eat more without missing out on good food, and rin contemplates before agreeing. immediately calling his bodyguards to accompany you two.

even with them around, rin always had a hand snaked around your waist to keep you closer. “you're alright babe, we'll be safe.” he looks behind him and sees his guards coughing as if they weren't used to seeing rin display affection, which was true.. since he always has a frown on his face while training or when he's alone. rin scowls and goes a little red, looking down at his shoes before smiling slyly at you.

rin actually enjoys the food at the local restaurant much more than the expensive, really expensive gourmet that serves only little, almost drop like sizes. your boyfriend sighs as he eats with gusto and when he turns to you and grins a little, he says slowly “let's come here more often, love.” wiping away the small spill at the side of your cheek. putting him in a good mood and even smiling at his fans that wait for him outside the small restaurant.

[arainaizevran]

Not sure if anyone has mentioned this re: the Wyll feedback post but I imagine the main issue with using his old EA dialogue assets is that the majority of them are from when they still had Wyll's old VA who couldn't come back for the rework. So it's not like they could just pull it out and plop it back in like they could with someone like...Karlach who was also completed late in EA, but was always Samantha Beart.

Yeah the existing script might work, but actually adding it back to the game it would still involve Theo having to come in and record the majority of them as the Wyll we now know. And assuming he's not going to perfectly mimic the original reading just in his voice, the devs would need to adjust the animations so they fit Theo's reading of it. And imo, at that point you might as well just make new dialogue/animations to best suit his current form rather than trying to build off of what's leftover from before.

I think it's a matter of - "this should've been done in the first place" - considering we have stuff like the Wyll/Lae'zel flirt banter that was also in Early Access. Theo Solomon re-recorded those lines for full release, only for Larian to remove it later. (Presumably because it doesn't fit his current romance route, but I digress.)

A lot of his EA dialogue still carried over to release, which means lines were deliberately picked to be re-recorded. However, this work seems inconsistent because we still have aspects of EA Wyll that are in release.

A glaring example of this is Wyll approving of Sazza getting executed. This was left over from when he still had a grudge on goblins in Early Access; now, he doesn't. Why would current Wyll approve of a defenseless prisoner getting killed?

My point with taking lines from EA Wyll for current Wyll is that there are lines that still fit him. Current Wyll has funny lines - but those lines are locked behind specific trigger conditions that aren't always easily encountered. Like his line: "It's like I always sometimes say..." - that line is only triggered if 1) the ogres in Act 1 are dead, 2) the player has Lump's War Horn, 3) Wyll specifically tries to blow the horn (which would be unlikely unless the player is doing a Wyll origin, or they had companion Wyll do it - more likely, it's a Tav/Durge doing this action.)

EA Wyll, on the other hand, had his funny lines in his regular dialogue ("spill the whole jug", "there's a saying I just made up"). In this case, are the funny lines that current Wyll have supposed to be there? If they are, why did they remove his other funny lines from Early Access, especially if it still fits his current character?

More to the point, are there still lines from current Wyll that aren't supposed to be there? How much effort was actually put into rewriting his character if there's still stuff from Early Access that don't fit him now (ie, the Sazza approval)?

In the end, I agree that we're probably better off to have brand new written stuff for Wyll, but I can't ignore the sloppy work that was done in rewriting him if he still has apparently leftover dialogue from EA that may be in danger of getting removed. And if they can't even do this properly, it doesn't bode well for any new content for Wyll.

As an aside: I think Karlach's VA wasn't always Samantha Beart, at least in the first few versions of it. She also did not look the same way she does now.

[hiddenwritingsintheworld]

Man After Midnight Ch. 3

Rich Mans World Series | Chapter 2 | Donations | Thoughts & Feelings

Weeks had passed and you’d finally got into physical therapy, which you were doing well in, two broken legs weren’t the easiest things to learn how to walk again on. Chris would watch you from afar, but it never went past that. He would always be on his phone, talking to someone, about what was something you weren’t privileged to know, unless it had to do with the house. After discussing things with Chris, he told you he had a surprise planned for you. 

Chris always made sure you had fresh flowers, the most comfortable pajamas or lounge wear, whichever you preferred and there were always two men, whom you’d never met before, posted within 10 feet of you at all times. You’d tried to ask Chris about it but he would nod to you and mumble something about ‘give him a minute’ then he’d disappear. 

You had one final surgery to go through, you’d told Chris about it but he’d left that morning, stating he’d be back before you went back. But he didn’t come back. In fact, you’d asked the nurses to wait an extra five minutes for him, and when the five minutes was up, he still hadn’t shown up, the nurse didn’t miss the tear that slipped from your eye as they wheeled you to the operating room. 

When Chris did show back up, your room was empty. He sighed rubbing his face, he felt bad, he had tried to get away from the meeting he’d called back truth be told without Sebastian around, things were falling apart a little. “How’s Y/N?” a soft voice called out from behind him. Turning, Chris laid eyes on Jamie, one of your friends, the only one to ever hit on him and give him her number. “She’s in surgery, I was about to go check with the nurses and see how it was going.” Chris said, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Okay, well, afterwards do you want to go get some lunch in the cafeteria? I’m sure it’ll be a while before she gets out.” Jamie said with a soft smile. 

Chris was leery of her; what was her ultimate goal here? Was she trying to seduce him? She was too happy to be around him, most people coward away from him due to his body language but, to Jamie, it only seemed to draw her in more. “Jamie, listen, that’s nice of you, but I don’t think that’ll be necessary. I really need to stay close in case something happens with Y/N,” he told her. 

Jamie nodded and walked closer, putting a hand on his bicep. “I get it, but you still need to take care of yourself, in order to take care of her.” she said softly. “Come on, just lunch, maybe we can talk about what happened with her,” Jamie went to wrap an arm around his waist but Chris shoved her back. “Enough. Stay away from me, and more importantly, Stay away from my wife.” he snapped glaring at her. Jamie watched him walk away unknowing that she had just possibly exposed herself to him. She sighed, pulling out her cell phone as she turned walking away. “Hey, it’s me, I couldn’t get him away. What do you want me to do now?” 

Chris walked over to one of his men and looked at him before looking around. “You find out every piece of information you can on Jamie Walker, I want to know everything about her and what she’s up to.” he headed to the nurses station afterwards and tried to speak to several of them. “I’m trying to find out about my wife!” he raised his voice, causing a nurse to stop and look up at him. “Im sorry sir we have an emergency in the OR at the moment, someone will come find you whenever we can.” she said before she rushed off. 

Chris stared toward the doors leading to the operating rooms with a deep rooted fear in his chest. He just might lose you after all. 

As the day dragged on, no one was able to tell Chris anything, which had him climbing the walls. He was walking toward the nurses station, ready to tell them all off and demand to know what was going on with you. Just as he approached the nurses desk, a man called out your name. “Y/N Evans, is there someone here for Y/N Evans?” It was your doctor. “I'm her husband, is she okay?” he asked, walking over quickly. “Let’s step in here and discuss the surgery Mr. Evans,” the doctor led him into a room closed off from the waiting room. Stale air and depression filled the room. Was this it? Was he going to tell Chris the old line “I'm sorry Mr. Evans we did everything we could to save her,” or maybe he’ll give it straight, “I hate to tell you she passed away on the table.” Chris dug his nails into his palms while anxiously waiting.

Finally the doctor stepped back into the room and nodded at Chris. “Sorry about that, I had some things printed for you in regards to Y/N,” he laid out some images from your surgery. “These are some of the things we fixed in her arm, we added these screws, this plate, she’ll need another surgery to remove all that once she’s completely healed though.” he said as Chris examined each image. He looked up at the doctor and sat back, “So my wife is fine? I’ve been trying to find out information on her all day and was told there was an emergency and that no one could tell me anything!  When can I see her?” he asked with irritation all over his face. 

Your surgeon looked at him and sighed, “I’m sorry for the day long of worry Mr. Evans, We had another patient unfortunately pass away on another operating table today. a 24 week pregnant girl was in a car wreck, while trying to save her life, she passed away. Your wife is fine, you can follow me back to recovery and you can see her.” he said standing up. Chris stood up and towered over him. “Thank you for being straightforward with me. I appreciate that, I know where recovery is though, but thank you again.” he took the folder from the doctor and walked out of the room, down to recovery, and didn’t stop until he saw you. 

You were still sound asleep, your vitals looked great, and Chris couldn’t help but to smile a little seeing the black overlay on your cast. He sat beside you, gently holding your hand with a smile on his face. 

-Flashback-  

“Why black? I mean, sure it's timeless, but you’re so beautiful in pinks, blues, and reds, and literally almost any other color.” Maries voice came from your office as Chris walked past. The door was cracked and he didn’t, nor was he willing to admit it, but he desperately wanted to know what was going on. Your voice stopped him in his tracks. “I know, but Chris loves the color black, plus it goes with anything. Plus, the day I finally get to wear this for him, maybe he’ll love me….” 

It seemed he was only good at one thing anymore, and that’s breaking your heart. But that’s all going to change, he would make sure of it. Chris wanted to make sure you had the best life, for his best girl. He leaned down and gently kissed your fingers, “I promise you life will be so much better,” he whispered. “Yeah?” your voice croaked out. Your eyes were barely open, and you kept lazily blinking them, no doubt the effect of the medications you had been given. “Hey baby girl, how are you feeling?” he whispered, reaching up to brush some hair back behind your ear. “I’m thirsty, and hungry,” you whispered as he smiled and nodded. “I bet, here,” he pushed the call button for a nurse to come help you. 

Chris watched as the nurse came in and checked your vitals, talked to you for a few moments before she went and brought you some ice water. “I’ll be back to check on her shortly, once she wakes up more, we’ll put some applesauce or puddy in her belly and see how we do with that before we do any heavy foods? Sounds good?” she smiled down at you before looking over at Chris who nodded. “Sounds great, Thank you,” he helped you get a drink of water before he covered you up a little better and smiled down at you brushing the hair out of your face. “I’m so glad you’re okay sweetheart.” 

As more weeks passed by you were finally released from the hospital, and after voicing your opinion to Chris about what the house should look like you were very surprised when Anthony pulled up on your street, driving toward what would have been your home. “Chris, where are we going?” He just smiled at you, bringing your fingers to his lips and kissing them gently. “It’s a surprise for you,” he said grinning. You felt yourself smiling back at him as he grinned. 

When Anthony turned the corner, there at the end of the street, was a beautiful gated house. Your eyes widened slightly and you looked over at Chris. “Welcome home baby,” he kissed your hand.

[kkotda]

J K L AND OR P FOR THE ASK GAME SENDING SEVERAL IN CASE U ALREADY DID ONE

MI AMORE I LOVE YOU (so i'm gonna do both kenma and sylus >:3)

j - jealousy: do they get jealous easily? what do they do when jealous?

the thought of jealous kenma........ is doing things to me............ but he'd be so cool about it. like. something about that guy looking at me rubs him the wrong way so he casually just blocks his view by stepping into his line of sight. isn't very confrontational unless they cross a line and he def doesn't take it out on me either but oh he will make sure it's known that koi is already called for :3

and sylus, oh god sylus, he is so blatant with his jealousy but he also doesn't take it out on me and also makes sure to make it known that i am called for alsdkfasldf. if he notices someone staring at me a little too long he'll just walk up and put his entire body weight on me and i'm like struggling trying to keep the both of us up. or he'll like (biting my fist) wrap an arm around my waist and just make the other person VERY uncomfortable alsdfasldkfajf

oh but when I'M jealous... oh god... i'm glaring daggers but also i know he (both kenma and sylus) won't even give them a chance (kenma literally doesn't give them the time of day and sylus will HUMILIATE them i would almost feel bad alsdkfasdlkfj) but i'm being so fr i would be so childish about it (sticking my tongue out at them IN MY HEAD, etc) i also don't take it out on kenma/sylus and putting them on the defensive but i do think i would be a little bit (just a tad bit) more whine-y and demanding of physical affection aslfkasklfjas (AS EMBARRASSING AS IT IS TO ADMIT SLDKFJSDFLKJF)

k - kissing: what is it like kissing them?

if i think about this for too long i will short-circuit SO UH kissing kenma is very sweet and sensual :3 like apple pie topped with vanilla ice cream :D (did you see what i did there HAHAHHAHAHA <- kenma loves apple pie) and kissing sylus is very heated but also strangely gentle with a sprinkle of desperation :3 OKAY I CANNOT THINK ON THIS ANYMORE SLDFKSDLFJSDF I'M SO SORRY

l - love: when did they realize they were in love?

omg i get to talk about koizume au again :D realistically speaking, i don't think kenma even realizes it until like kuroo or yamamoto says something, maybe by pointing out how often they catch him stealing glimpses of me, or noticing how some other boy has been trying to get my attention (feat. jealous kenma!!!! >:D) and now all of a sudden he's more aware that i'm all he can think about, every waking moment, hours into the night before he ultimately falls asleep. like he genuinely did not notice until one or both of them points it out :,3

syloi au debut i think but i think he's really intrigued by me. and it wasn't anything serious before. but he's been seeing me everywhere, findings bits of me in everything. he finds himself thinking about me more frequently, often sending mephisto (his mechanical crow!!) to check in on me, offering to do more things with me, finding more excuses to be near me, etc etc etc (>////<) in other words, it was a 'well damn' moment for him HHAHAHAHAH

me on the other hand... ooh boy i think i can confidently say koi no yokan, i knew i was going to like them and... yeah. okay not-so-secret, but i first started liking kenma because of his voice, i was sold when i heard it (BRINGING BACK HAIKYUU MOVIE MEMORIES LSDKFSDLFJSDF) and it just snowballed from there. similarly, i saw the trailer posted on l&ds twt and was like yeah. it's him. i want him. (for context: i was very hesitant to choose a fav and i felt very unsure but then i saw sylus and that was the most sure i've ever felt in my entire life asldfkasjdflakjds)

p - phone: how often do they talk to each other on the phone or other means of communication?

clearing throat, ALL THE TIMEEEEEEE!!!! if kenma and i aren't physically together, we're on a discord video call. we text too when calling is too difficult, but discord call with him alwayssss <333 sylus i think is always vigilant for notifications from me, and we text fairly often (i like to send him stickers asldkfasdfj) but he prefers video calls

selfship alphabet ask game!

[house-of-slayterr]

Mad Tea Party:

Tag: @keffirinne @howl-fantasies @flaysthings @myers-meadow

Tw: Suicide fake out.

Today was boring. That’s saying something when it comes to Gotham. It was quiet… a little too quiet. Y/N and Victor were off doing god knows what, Basil was back in National City visiting his sister. And Little V was probably following Selena around like a lost puppy. Her little crush was cute, I had to admit. But I was a little worried, there’s more of her father in her than she lets on. Thank god I’m here to be the only voice of reason.

I sighed heavily as I got up from the couch, leaving to get a glass of water. Fuck it, perhaps even some wine. Who cares that it’s three pm in the middle of the week? Just as I debated pouring myself a glass, there was a knock at the door. I was quick to answer, people in Gotham get snippy if you leave them waiting too long.

“Hello?”

“Package for one Miss Blossom.” The post man said.

I raised a brow. I wasn’t expecting any packages from anyone. Unless this was Oliver’s lame excuse to say he was sorry. I wouldn’t put it past him to think gifts could change how I feel.

“Does it say who it’s from?” I asked.

The mail man shrugged.

“Was just told to deliver it ma’am, sign here please.”

I took the pen from his hand and signed off on his pad of paper. I took the box from him and politely closed the door. I placed the box down on the coffee table. It wasn’t all that heavy. And it didn’t smell of anything in particular. I scrunched my brows, glaring at the box as if it would sprout legs and leave from the discomfort.

“This is a stupid idea.” I said out loud, despite no one being around to hear.

You never open mystery packages with no return address. Let alone in a city like this. But the longer I sat there, the more my curiosity took over. I grabbed the blade I kept hidden in my boot, and cut open the tape. On the top of the box sat a bouquet of white roses, with red speckled here and there. This certainly wasn’t one of my works, and I didn’t want to know where the red came from.

I gently picked them up, avoiding the thorns that were still protruding wildly from the plant. Who on earth would send me flowers? There was fabric in the box… a dress. I picked it up to inspect it, and it wasn’t hard to piece together who this gift came from now. The pocket watch that feel from the dress pocket was a dead giveaway. I couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto my face. Nobody had ever sent me flowers before. I picked up the bouquet again, breathing in the sweet scent. My second mistake today.

Jervis’s POV:

I watched from the building across the street, a perfect view. My sweet little Alice looked different from the last time I saw her. She must have gotten a new hair cut, I was certain of it. And she looked just as lovely as ever, even from this far away.

My heart hammered in my chest as I saw her hesitate to open my gift. What was she waiting for? I was getting antsy. Would she even open it? But my prayers were answered when she finally took out a knife to open the box. Even front his far away I could see her eyes light up. She looked around the apartment as if to ask if the gifts were really meant to her. My eyes widened as I watched her pull the dress out of the box. She would look oh so pretty in her dress.

I knew my little florist well, she could never resist the temptation that were roses. I smiled as she took a deep breath from the bouquet. Everything was going according to plan. I excitedly sprinted to the stair case, getting off the room as quickly as I could. It wouldn’t be hard to get into her apartment. I fiddled with the lock for a second, using a Bobby pin to try and manurer around the pins the lock. A soft click sounded and I knew I was in. I quietly made my way across the room, admiring her sleeping form. She was so pretty when she slept, almost like an Angel.

I gently brushed a hair out of her face, and smiled down at her. My sweet little Alice. The world was too dangerous for someone like her. The sedative should last for a few hours, which gave me more than enough time to get everything ready. I picked her up, cradling her in my arms. I swore my heart almost stopped when she sleepily leaned her head against my chest. I was sure it was hammering by now.

I made it back to my warehouse no problem. The citizens of Gotham never even bat an eye. Everything was going perfect, for my tea party. And the other guests would be brought in soon. I giggled joyously, excitement shivering through every muscle in my body. I watched as my henchmen brought in the other three party guests. I frowned when it seemed the detective was very much away, and struggling against his fate.

His eyes landed on the chair Maggie was currently tied down too. I didn’t want her falling by accident. I couldn’t stand to ruin her sweet face. I found myself zoning out and daydreaming again, but Jim’s sickening voice brought me back down to Earth.

“What do you want from us Tetch?” He gritted.

“We’ll I can’t possibly go and spoil the surprise, patients is a key Detective. Something you think you would have learned by now.”

Jim scoffed as one of the guards sat him forcefully down in his chair. They were quick to arrange Miss Tompkins and Mr Pepper in their seats at the table. Both still very much unconscious, but it seemed the man was only the brink of waking up.

“Jervis, your problem is with me, let them go.” Jim suggested.

“No can do Jimbo, we don’t want to go spoiling our fun now.” I gave him a tight lipped smile.

I watched as Miss Tompkins began to stir as well.

“Greeting and welcome!” I greeted the two.

The look on her face when she realises where she was, was priceless. I wish Maggie was awake to see it. I watched as her eyes moved between her ex and her new lover.

“Love, are you alright? Are you hurt?” The man asked in an overly sweet tone.

It nearly made me nauseous.

“I’m alright,” she assured him, “are you ok?”

He gave her a curt nod. Her attention finally was back on me.

“What’s this about Jervis?” She asked.

Her tone was demanding and I didn’t appreciate it. They were all lucky I gave the order to get them to me in one piece. It would be no fun if someone got hurt before afternoon tea even started. I chose to ignore her, a few more minutes passed as I prepared tea and began to set the table. I could see Jim’s eyes trained on Maggie, from the side of my own. I hated the way he looked at her. He wasn’t good enough for someone like my Alice.

I placed a cup in front of her sleeping form.

“Perhaps I gave you too much.” I pondered out loud.

I didn’t want her to wake up before her surprise, but perhaps I went a little overboard.

“What did you give us?” Lee asked again.

“Sevoflurane, my dear. It’s a fast acting anaesthetic.”

I watched a look of distress flood her features. Before the others had gotten here, I changed Maggie into her costume. She looked better than I could have ever imagined.

I couldn’t hide the smile on my face as she finally decided to join us. I watched as her sleepy eyes scanned the room, taking in her surroundings. I expected to see fear, but that wasn’t it. There was a glint of something different in her eyes, and I wanted to know what it was.

“Ah, Sleeping Beauty is finally awake!” I announced cheerfully.

The first words out of her mouth nearly startled me.

“Where the hell have you been?” She asked incredulously.

How quaint, she noticed my absence. Jim raised a brow at the young woman. I blinked at her for a moment. Not so certain I was comfortable with her sweating. Ladies should never cuss.

“Really Maggie, that’s your question?” Jim asked.

She shrugged the best she could with the restraints tying her down.

“Don’t worry my little Dove, I’ve been around. I’ve been quite busy recently.”

She looked around at her fellow tea mates.

“Yeah, I can see that.”

She let out a heavy sigh.

“Well, now that we’re all here, the show can begin.” I announced.

“What show?” Jim asked.

“We’ll the tea party of course! And now we shall commence. You see Jimbo, a little birdie told me you were having girl problems. And I feel for you, truly, it’s hard to find a good women out there.”

“That doenst make any sense.” Jim quipped back.

“We’ll of course it does Silly. Here’s how this is going to work. You, dear Detective, have to choose. You have the evening,” I placed a gun on the table, sliding it to Jim. “There’s no way out of this building that I won’t be watching. So no cheating. Either you shoot him, and take Dr Tompkins for yourself, or, you shoot her, and choose Maggie.”

I gave a pleased smirk at the end of my little speech.

“I’ll have them untie you all, and remember, there’s no way out.”

I turned my attention to Maggie, her expression was practically unreadable. Of course, I knew I would never let her get hurt. Not truly anyway. She was certainly not as timid as when we first met. But I suppose you can’t expect innocence in Gotham.

My goons moved forward to remove the shackles from the others. But not Maggie, none of them had permission to touch her. I made my way around the table, squatting down next to her as I fiddled with the restraints. Her eyes were practically trained on my fingers. It made me blush slightly, a little tremor in my hand from the way my heart skipped a beat. Her now free hand reached out to mine as she had my complete and total attention. I swore I stopped breath.

“Mi Corazon, you look lovely in your party dress,” I completed. Lovely wasn’t even the right word, it didn’t capture enough of her beauty. “Te ves positivamente radiante.”

I was close enough to see the flush of her cheeks.

“Flattery isn’t going to work this time, Quierdo. Fair warning, Y/N not going to be very happy when she finds out I skipped family spa day for this.”

I took no interest in her threat, my brain simply replaying that pet name over and over again.

“Puedes hablarme español todos los días, mi amor.” A purr rose in the back of my throat.

She rolled her eyes. Jim reached for the gun as expected, and trained it on me.

“Let is go Tetch.” He demanded.

I laughed, not bother to get up from my spot beside her.

“Go ahead, shoot me Gordon.” I taunted.

I heard the soft click of the gun… it was empty. The look on his face was priceless. It’s what he deserved for being a dick to my sweet little Alice.

“Did you honestly think I’d give you a loaded weapon?” I mused. “No, if you want your bullets, you’ll just have to beg little Alice here nicely.”

I pet her head, and she looked up at me with confusion in her eyes. I could easily get lost in them forever. They were far my hypnotic than any of my little trinkets. I wondered if I could harvest it, the way she could make anyone do anything for her with just a bat of her eyelashes. It was captivating.

“Las balas están en tu bolsillo, palomita.” I gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead, right where her hairline started.

She smelled strongly of peaches and lemon grass. It was heavenly.

“Si elige mal, dispárale, nos duele.”

I instructed before departing the scene. Truth be told, I didn’t want Jim to have her. But I didn’t want him to choose Lee either, that would just break Maggie’s fragile heart.

Maggie’s POV:

My face flushed when Jervis leaned in to kiss my forehead. It was such a simple gesture, but it made me melt. I knew it shouldn’t, that it was wrong, the man just kidnapped me for fucks sake. But Jervis had never given me any reason to believe he’d hurt me. I watched as he left the room, presumably dead bolting us inside.

“Did he just call you Alice?” Jim was the first to break the silence.

“Don’t read too much into Jim, this is Gotham, you’ve seen worse.” I dismissed him.

“Do you have any idea what happened to his last Alice?” His tone seemed angry now.

“She would have been fine if you didn’t have an incessant urge to stick your nose into everyone business.” I snapped.

“You’re hanging out with too many villains Maggie, that’s the problem.”

“Ha!” I spat out a laugh, throwing my head back. “You want to tell me what my problem is, that’s rich coming from you. Mr I’m afraid of commitment! We wouldn’t even be here right now if it wasn’t for you, so shut it!”

Lee cleared her throat to try to break the tension, but it just made me more agitated.

“Fighting amonsut each other isn’t going to help anything, we have to find a way out of here.” She said.

Mario was already up on his feet, pacing the drab concrete room. I smoothed out my dress with my hands, adjusting my apron. I reached across the table and poured myself a cup of tea. This was going to be a long day, but hey, at least I wasn’t bored anymore. And I was right about what I said earlier, Oswald would probably freak out with me being missing, and send her to come fetch me.

“Me my guest.” I suggested, pointing at the door Jervis left out of. “If you get shot, don’t blame me pretty boy.”

I brought the beautifully decorated tea cup to my mouth. We were drinking from a red glass set, my favourite colour. Jervis had planned an entire tea party for me, and in his own fucked up way it was sort of cute. Suddenly my hand was slapped away from my face.

“What is your damage Jim?!” I exclaimed!

“Don’t drink that, it could be poisoned.” He said.

“Cet idiot ne peut pas être sérieux.” I mumbled under my breath. “You don’t get it, Jervis is not going to poison me.” I said flatly.

“He did use an illegal anesthetiser to knock you out and kidnap you, or did that part just get lost on you?” Mario spoke directly to me for the first time.

“Yet I don’t have a single scratch on me.” I held my arms out for proof. “If Jervis wanted me dead, my brains would be splattered on the concrete by now. But they aren’t, wanna know why? Cause he’s not going to hurt me. He’s already lost one Alice, I don’t think he could handle another.”

“And you’re just ok with that?” Lee asked bewildered.

“You learn to be ok with a lot of things real quick when you don’t have many other options. Why do you think so many people stranded on islands convert to cannibalism? Life goes a lot easier when you stop trying to change things outside of your control. This, is not my tea party, I’m just playing the game.”

I glared down at the broken glass now on the floor. I reached across and stole Jim’s cup, pouring myself yet another cup of tea. This time he didn’t try to stop me. The only smart thing he’d done all night. How could you love someone so much that you hated them? I wish my heart would stop competing with my brain for two seconds so I could think. Lee sighed.

“We’ll it’s clear to me Jim, that this Jervis guy seems to think you’re still in love with my fiancé.” Mario stated.

Jim immediately got defensive. And I had to say, it hurt. I mean I knew he still had feelings for Lee, she was pretty and smart, a dangerous combo in Gotham. I balled my hand into a fist under the table, squeezing the bullets in my pocket. I zoned out most of the conversation, I didn’t want to hear his lame excuses as he tries to deny it. As much as I hated her, if Lee made Jim genuinely happy, then he could have her. Who am I to stand in the way of that?

“Wait, are you related to Sofia?” I asked out of the blue.

Everyone had been up and around, trying to find any week-spot in this fortress. I lazily sap at the table, enjoying my tea.

“Yes, why?” Mario asked.

“No reason.” I quickly countered.

What was I supposed to tell the man, that his sister didn’t die how he thinks she did? That I shot her point blank in the head because she kissed Jim. Well she did a lot more than that, but the point still stands. It wouldn’t vote in my favour if I made an enemy of him at this moment. I didn’t need a Falcone hating me. He glared at me questionably but decided to drop it.

“This really doesn’t concern you in the slightest does it?” He asked.

“We’re not in any immediate danger, I’m actually quite enjoying the quiet.”

“Not in immediate danger?” Jim scoffed. “Wow, they really did a number on you.”

My glare was trained on him within seconds.

“Good strategy, keep shit talking my family Jim, see where that gets you.”

“Was that a theart?” He narrowed his eyes at me.

“Trust me, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now if that was supposed to be a threat.”

“Are you really just going to sit there and pout all night?”

“What do you think?”

After a few hours I could tell they were all going stir crazy. There was not an ounce of sunlight in this drab little box. I’d taken note of the various cameras littered around the place. Jervis was watching, that much was clear. He wouldn’t let us get away without making a choice. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the bullets, lazily tossing them in the air and then catching them again.

“Give up yet?” I asked, shaking a bullet for emphasis.

“What do you think?” He spit out my earlier comment with equally as much venom.

Funny how I should hate him, but seeing him angry like this just made me want to take him right here, right now. Make Lee watch so she’d understand his choice completely. But that was cruel, a thought I would never entertain.

I finally stood up from my seat, frustration making it too hard to sit still.

“Christ Jim, everyone with eyes can see your still in love with her! Stop being such a fucking pussy and just say it already!” I snipped. “I want to go home.” I said a little softer.

“Of course, cause you have no stake in this, either way you win. Right, Maggie?”

I starred at him with eyes wide. The audacity of this bitch.

“Oh for fucks sake, you think I want to be here right now Jim? Stuck in this room with you and her? Is quite literally rather you just shoot me and get this over with! Because if I have to listen to your agitating sexy, grating angelic voice for one more second, I’m going to pull a Van Gogh and cut off my fucking ears! You know I’m supposed to be at the airport in a few hours to welcome Basil home right? And I promised little V I’d take her, Selena and Bruce out for Ice cream to give Alfred a break. I’m already going to get my ass beat when I go home for fucking up Y/N pristine schedule, and Oswald is going to scream his head off and not let me leave that dreaded mansion for a whole month! So if you could kindly just make a god damn choice for once in your miserable life, now is the time!” I ranted.

I threw the bullets down at his feet.

“Do you what you fucking want with them, I don’t care. But don’t you dare try to blame all this on me. Loves a two way street Gordon, and you seem to always place yourself smack dab in the middle of traffic.”

“My apologises for not being enthused that some psycho is trying to force my hand and make me kill someone.”

I froze. By the gods is he dumb. What is it about Himbos that just makes my heart swell?

“Les dieux me donnent la force!” I turned my attention back to him “Shoot someone!”

“What?” Mario asked.

“Jervis said you had to shoot someone, not that you had to kill them. Did Dent never explain loopholes to you Jim?” I sighed.

“Just shoot someone in the foot or something so we can leave?”

He seemed to contemplate my words for second. I could tell he was still hesitant about it, any other moment I would have found it endearing. But right now it was getting on my last nerve.

“Jim, listen to me, Y/N is probably already on her way here now. If she makes it here before we get out, she’s going to shoot all of us, for fun. She tolerates you but she has no qualms with killing those two. So if you want to play hero, fine, just give me the damn gun.”

“No.” He said after a long pause.

“No?” I asked.

“Nobody’s getting shot, I’ll find us another way out of this.”

I ran a hand through my hair in frustration.

“It’s not his fault he’s not like you.” Lee commented.

“Yeah and what do you know about me little miss perfect? Hmmm? You get to walk out of here and get married, and have Jim follow you around like a love sock puppy. So what are you complaining about? You win Tompkins! You don’t need to rub it in my face.” I said.

She cringed a bit at that. It was comforting to know she felt the least bit guilty. I sat back down, sipping my now cold tea.

“Maggie-“ Jim started, but I was quick to cut him off.

“Don’t!” I warned. “Don’t you dare talk right now, cause I know every word about to come out of that pretty little mouth of yours is going to be a lie. I’m always going to love you like you’re going to love her. Don’t make this any more painful that it already is.”

My voice lost any bitterness and spite. Frankly I was exhausted. He sighed. I did my best to bite back any tears that were threading to fall. I wasn’t going to cry in front of her of all people.

“What if I give Jervis the ending he actually wants?” Jim tired.

This piqued my interest.

“Jim you don’t have to do this, we can find another way out.” Lee begged.

One thing I appreciated about Mario was he didn’t talk much. He knew when to keep quiet, and honestly, he seemed too good for Leslie. He was a hell of a lot better than his sister, that’s for sure. It seemed I’d gotten lost because before I knew it Jim was standing in front of me. He held the gun out to me. I raised a brow, but took it none the less.

“Do what you have to do.” He said.

“Are you insane Jim?” Lee asked. “Sure, give the mentally unstable girl a gun!”

Even Mario seemed taken aback by her statement. All this time I thought my hatred for her was one sided, but it seemed to be mutual. I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction. Jim stood there, not attempting to be a moving target. It seems some part of him still trusted me, and that was refreshing. There was one bullet left in my pocket. I pulled it out, examining it for a second. I popped it in the chamber of the revolver and spun the clip.

I stood up and walked to the centre of the room, glaring at the camera.

“I know you can here me J,” I challenged, “let them go, or I swear to god I will splatter my brains all of this costume!”

I held the gun to my temple, looking right down the barrel of the security camera. Jim looked at me like I was insane. He meant for me to shoot him. Mario shuffled on his feet awkwardly, and Leslie just stood there dumbfounded.

“Jervis.” I warned.

When he didn’t respond I pulled the trigger. I heard the familiar click of the empty chamber and flinched slightly. I pulled back the hammer, spinning the clip.

“Stop ignoring me Jervis.” I tried once more.

Still… nothing. I put my faith into that shot and pulled the trigger once more. Again met with a deafening silence.

“Hatter!” I finally tested.

Ready to go one more time, when I heard the screech of the PA system roaring to life.

“No aprietes ese gatillo, mi princesa!” He pled.

“Then open the fucking door!”

My finger ghosted over the trigger once more.

“Ok, ok. Just put the gun down.”

I smiled, satisfied that it had worked. Not my brightest moment, it certainly was a risky plan. But if living with Oswald has taught me anything, is that it dangerous to mess with someone’s illusion of you. And I just sent Jervis’s crashing down. My head snapped to the door when I heard the creak of the steel lock. I held the gun down by my side and made eye contact with Jim. I nodded my head to the door.

“Go.” I said. “You can try to catch him another time. But you won’t find him Jim.”

I knew what he was thinking. When it came to crime at least, he was pretty cut and dry. The only thing he loved more than Leslie Tompkins, was his job. She’s smart to get out while she can. Marry someone reasonable like Mario Falcone. He looked hesitant but left none the less, escorting the two “civilians” out of the building.

“Oh, and for what it’s worth Leslie, I hope the two of you have a good wedding.” I said.

The room was early silent now. I placed the gun down on the table and sat back in my chair. After a few minuets the door cheeked open again with a guilty looking Mad Hatter peeking his head through.

“You can come in Jervis.” I sighed.

He was quick to cross the room and kneel down before me. His eyes looked red, almost as if he’d be crying. Had he?

“I’m sorry Princesa,” he said, grabbing my hand in his. “I was just trying to help, please forgive me?” He begged.

I let out a groan, rolling my shoulders to release any previous tension they were holding. He looked like a child who’d just gotten yelled to by his mother.

“I’m not mad at you J.”

His eyes lit up at that.

“Really?”

“Yes, now get off the floor.”

He quickly scrambled to his feet, sitting in the chair that Jim had been previously sat in.

“I really just wanted to help. He’s your- he’s your Alice.” He said sheepishly.

Most people never got to see this side of Jervis Tetch, the furious Mad Hatter. But I enjoyed this side of him. This was the Jervis I’d first met that day in the cemetery. No villains, no hero’s, no bullshit. But I’d be delusional to ever wish for those times back. I wasn’t the same girl I was that day, and she would be horrified to see what Gotham turned us into. But that Girl wouldn’t have survived Gotham, so perhaps she’d give me leniency. It was survival of the fittest. I cracked a small smile at Jervis’s words.

“He is my Alice, huh.” I laughed. “But more importantly, I am yours. Alice and Hatter, friends forever.” I said.

He looked positively giddy, and I would be a liar if I said it wasn’t adorable.

“Where were you?” I asked again.

“I had to deal with some stuff about my Sister. I couldn’t stand to look at Gotham anymore. The only thing that drew me back was you.”

“Well, I still have a few hours before I have to go pick up B and little V. Would you, Jervis Tetch like to accompany me to the airport? I have Through the Looking Glass on audio book in my car.”

He grinned like the Cheshire Cat.

“I couldn’t think of a more perfect way to spend my evening, Mi Princesa.”

He held out his hand to help me up from my chair. Always the gentlemen.

“Do me a favour and lay low for a while yeah? Jim’s not going to stop looking for you. Not after you made him confront his emotions. That man is emotionally constipated, I swear.” I joked.

“Y eres un tonto por amarlo.” He cracked.

I rolled my eyes.

“Alice didn’t need a man, maybe I can learn to live without on too. I like my friends better anyway.”

I winked at him, before running out the door.

“Whoever makes it to the car last has to steal Victors favourite knife!” I called back to him, laughing and giggling all the way to the car as he chased me.

An: I went with Madness Returns Alice for this one, because it makes more sense for Maggie’s character. I headcannon that Jervis can speak Spanish. The vibe just seems right. Is Maggie totally just rage flirting with Jim at this point, yes, yes she is. Being nice didn’t get her anywhere 😂 also my apologises if I accidentally called him Mario Pepper instead of Falcone, my brain was being dumb. I tried to fix all the ones I could find.

[theharrowing]

MOTHER I AM TORN! For the WIP game I definitely want Collateral 22, but I am also so curious about the POV chapters! My gut says Jungkook, but I don't know if I want to settle on that, so just Collateral 22 (unless you are feeling generous...) -🗡️

OMG HELLO DAGGERRRR!!!! AHHHH HOW ARE YOUUU!!!!!!!!!?!?!

sorry for the delayed response, i scheduled the wip game for this morning and then woke up hours later 😅😅😅 but i am here now, let's get it!!!

i am actually going to be posting the JK POV today (within the hour if all goes well) so how about i give you a snip from 22, and if you want another member pov, just lmk!!! you're the only one who has played so far, so you're welcome to do whatever you want honestly! 💜💜💜 thanks for playinggg!!!

cw: mention of a gun. this is a bit of a climactic scene for this entire fic, so i am going to put it under a read more!!! just in case people don't want spoilers. a certain someone's name has been redacted.

send me an ask about one of my WIPs! 💌

Yoongi sighs, then scoots forward, pushing the plates of food that rest just in front of him off to the side. He sits up even higher and plants his elbows on the table. "You can see that we are busy, so please just tell me what you want." [Redacted]'s eyes drop to the table as he turns to one of the men behind him and grabs onto a black briefcase. Fear spikes as you imagine a number of terrible things happening as he sets it on the edge of the table and opens it. You even notice from the corner of your eye as Namjoon's hand begins to reach behind his back, making you wonder whether he is carrying a gun.  But when [Redacted] spins the case, it contains stacks of notes, neatly organized in rows and columns with colorful rubber bands. His eyes lift to you and he smiles for a split moment.  Then he says, "I've come to pay off my debt," and his face turns stone cold serious.  At this, you scoff. To your right, Yoongi begins to laugh, and to your left, Namjoon scoots forward, sitting up straight. [Redacted] hardly blinks.  "It's all there," [Redacted] drawls slowly, staring daggers into Yoongi. "I even added some interest." You turn to Yoongi in time to see him roll his eyes. His hair is tucked behind his ears, and his glare is just as piercing as that of his adversary.  "You didn't really think she would just go back to you, did you?" he asks. 

[in-my-feels-probably]

Hello congrats on 600! I'm kinda new here but I'd like to partake in the celebration of that okay haha I'd like option 2, pretty much anyone from Game Of Thrones would be great.

My name's Shyann, I'm a bisexual ace with she/they pronouns. My personality type is infj and my love language is gifts. I'm also a Libra! I'm so super duper tall with a very tall height of 4'11. I got a brown wolf cut (my hair needs cut again lmao) and hazel eyes that I can't see too good out of. My vision sucks, but my glasses look cute at least I think.

I'm a rather shy and quiet person, I don't really talk too much unless I'm with my friends or family or if someone mentions something I'm interested in, in that case I will not shut up. (Said interests include: Skyrim, Marvel, GOT, The Witcher, Red Dead Redemption, and a handful of YouTubers) I spend a lot of my time playing video games and cosplaying. My music taste is mostly rock (Shinedown being my favorite band) but I'll also listen to anything for Cupcakke to Taylor Swift to Minecraft songs.

I would consider myself to be a pretty caring person. I guess you could say I'm bit of a people pleaser. In school I mostly kept to myself but my grades were always great. I was one of those kids that teachers were like "Oh! She's a pleasure to have in class!" Outside of school though? I'm surprised my dumbass is managing to live on her own.

I'm a chaotic mess, with a horrendous sleep schedule but I'm here. Thanks for reading this and doing these. They've been really nice to read. I like your writing! The 600 is very well deserved! :) 💕

hi! thank you so much for participating :)

i’ve actually closed my request for these ships, so i’m not doing them anymore until i hit 700.

i posted a message about it last night. i know not many people have seen it, so don’t worry if you haven’t. don’t worry about sending this in, i still enjoyed reading it.

i feel bad about you typing all of this out, so i’m still gonna ship you with someone and write you a little blurb. i’m sorry if this isn’t what you were looking for, maybe my next follower’s celebration i can do something you’d like more.

anyways, i ship you with jon!

i think he’d find it adorable that you’re so chaotic, he’d get a kick out of you being a mess. it takes a lot for him to smile and be less serious, but you’d do or say something that would make him laugh and forget about whatever was bothering him, even if it was just for a moment.

you’d stumble out of bed in the morning, tired from going to bed too late. you’d rush to get ready, and jon would find you in courtyard or something, while you were hurrying to get wherever you were going.

he’d bite his tongue to keep himself from laughing. he’d take a breathe, willing himself not to grin too hard. “for a well educated and well brought up person, my lady, you really do know how to make it look like you’ve never lived a routine day in your life.”

you’d roll your eyes, waving him away. “it’s a real talent of mine. now hush, im tired and im late.”

he’d smile, holding out his arm for you to take. “i’ll walk with you, my lady. make sure you get where you’re going without further incident. i have a feeling you may need the assistance.”

he’d laugh even harder as you glared at him, grudgingly taking his arm. but you’d know he wasn’t trying to be mean, and that he actually very much enjoyed your company. him teasing you brought a smile too his face, and you were willing to accept it if it meant you got to see him smile more.

[fakeosirian]

WIP wednesday!

THANK YOUUU @ammoniteflesh for tagging me!! i've been waist-deep in this chapter for wayyy too long and i need OUT! i keep forgetting that the earlier parts of this chapter are still unposted content despite how familiar/old news they feel to me LOL so getting to post a little bit is. nice T_T

i tag @lovelyamneris @incorrectsibunaquotes @joysmercer @soupforsoup @sableghost and anyone else who wants to do it :3

a bit of flat on your face ch9 under the cut :0

“So, this is fake.” Nina was still unimpressed.

“I wouldn’t say that, necessarily. I don’t think someone would go to all that effort to knowingly hide a fake.”

“That’s true.” Nina tapped her bottom lip as she thought. “It looks too much like the real stuff, anyway. But there’s only so much of it floating around. There was the one Victor took off us during the mouse infestation, the fake one, the juice bottle Alfie drank…”

“Was that not all of them?” Alfie asked.

“That’s what I thought. The mouse infestation one must be used up by now, and we gave the juice bottle to the hospital for testing, so unless anybody has another one waiting in the wings, we’re still in need of an explanation.”

“Ah, but the juice bottle elixir wasn’t always in the juice bottle. We transferred it there from a different container,” Fabian said, and Nina’s eyes went so large they all but rolled out of her head.

“Oh my God, you’re right.”

“Right, well, it’s probably in there somewhere. Nothing to worry about, right? Case closed,” Patricia announced, a bit louder than necessary.

“Did we…put all of it in that one bottle? We did, right?” Nina muttered. Fabian kept his mouth shut; Patricia had upgraded her glare to Open Your Mouth and Die. “…Right?”

Losing patience, Nina examined Fabian, Amber, and Patricia in that order; since Eddie, Alfie, and KT were either unconscious or in another country when the crime in question was committed, they got to bear silent witness to the standoff.

Finally, something hit Nina over the head like a sack of bricks.

“Wait—"

“Alright, fine. It was me. I put it in there and forgot about it, okay? Jesus Christ.” If Patricia blurting it out all by herself counted as ‘a sack of bricks,’ anyway. “You can stop laughing now.”

“Sorry!!” KT put both hands over her mouth. Patricia’s eyes locked on to her like a primed missile guidance system.

“Wait, you. How did you even know? You weren’t there. You didn’t even know what elixir was until this afternoon!”

“I told her. Over text.” Fabian’s ‘reassuring’ smile clung to his lips like off-brand saran wrap. (Read: not well.) With this much mounting evidence (and recent personal experience), Eddie could sense this eavesdrop-cover-up in his sleep. “She let us and Amber know what was going on, and I suspected there may have been one we forgot about hidden somewhere.”

“Totally.” And thanks to Amber, everyone else knew about the cover-up, too. It was Fabian’s turn to grimace and move on like that didn’t just ruin the whole game; maybe it was nothing more than wishful thinking (or an overactive guilty conscience), but Eddie got the odd impression that he’d just gotten even with someone, in a cosmic sense if nothing else.

“So…there’s no problem, then? All’s well that ends well?” Alfie glanced at the door in the least subtle way possible, which Eddie couldn’t help but find a little odd. This was a bit tedious, but it wasn’t that bad, dude. …Nevermind; it’s gotta be those worms, and I still don't want to know.

“I…guess it is, if that’s the only one we missed. I can’t believe we forgot about that. Would have saved us a lot of going down to the cellar over and over.”

“Yeah, yeah, I messed up.” Eddie moved to Patricia’s defense, but Nina beat him to it.

“Don’t worry about it. At all. Water under the bridge, especially since we all forgot. Clearly it was a good enough hiding place that no one found it this whole time, so if anything, good job?”

“Oh. Right. Thanks.”

“Sooo…what are we going to do with it? Put it back?” Amber asked, much to Nina’s chagrin.

“Uh, no. No offense Patricia, great hiding spot for now, but clearly its time has come.”

“Dump it?” Eddie suggested.

“I dunno man, don’t they recycle water? That’s why you can’t just dump any old chemicals from the lab down the sink; ol’ Sweetie wouldn’t let me forget that after that one time. So what I mean to say is: if it put me in the hospital, I’m not sure if it’s a good idea to put it back in the water supply.” Amber stared at Alfie in horror.

“They recycle water?”

“You know what? I’ll just hold onto it for a bit. We’ll figure this out later.” Nina dropped it back in her shoulder bag.

Eddie swept the room as the meeting wound down; the tension bled out following Patricia’s admission, and while it hadn’t erased every shoulder of chips, even Nina and Fabian were able to have a productive exchange within the greater conversation. So long as nothing spontaneously burst into flames, this would go down as a relative success.

Very successful in the Nina and Fabian department, in fact. They shared a lingering glance as Nina made for the door; Fabian was the first to look off to the side self-consciously, but he held out longer than Eddie would have expected. Very good thing.

Then why was there a minor chord ringing in the back of his mind?

KT pulled Fabian aside, distracting Eddie from whatever that red flag was, and a moment later they were gone before he could get a read on them. She’d looked pleased, so he was hoping it wasn’t anything he needed to worry about. Alfie and Amber filtered out one after another not long after.

But not Patricia; she hung back, still sort of sour looking, but considerably less disturbed. She’d just passed her first test; this was his.

“Proud of you for owning up to it.”

“Only once I had no option, but thanks, I guess. If Fabian knew, why didn’t he say something?”

“I have a theory about that. I don’t think he did.”

“What?”

“I think we may have had an eavesdropper he was covering for.” He crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows while she puzzled it out. The moment it clicked, she shrank back from the anticlimax.

“She didn’t rat me out. She probably should have.”

“Nah, KT’s not like that. It wasn’t that big of a deal, anyway.”

“No. She isn’t. And it wasn’t.” Her brow furrowed, but her silence was considerably less uncomfortable as she chewed on that. Eddie wasn’t so lucky – the break in the conversation made for the perfect conditions to trigger a mid-projection realization that he was, in fact, projecting right now.

“It wasn’t? It wasn’t. Yeah. Happens all the time, overhearing things. Probably wasn’t even on purpose. That happens a lot to uh, a lot of people. Bet she felt bad,” Eddie rattled off, letting something else in the driver's seat a moment too long. Just because he knew he was projecting and wished he wasn’t didn’t mean that it was easy to change directions mid-stream.

“…Right. You know you’re acting weird.” Statement, not a question.

“Oh, totally. Win-loss ratio against my foot-in-mouth disease is brutal today.”

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Coming back to write this top bit after finishing a post that really got away from me - this one probably doesn’t make a lot of sense. I found two articles about Daniel Kitson from 2002. I’m going to put a link here so that I don’t feel bad about filling everyone’s Tumblr feed with that - if you get lost in my pointless post about comedy reviews/interviews/articles that’s based around a couple of articles about Daniel Kitson from 2002, that’s your own fault for clicking on the link. I haven’t inflicted that to anyone.

So, I’m back into old Kitson things this week, and was looking up things about it because that’s, you know, something I do sometimes. I used to read all the Daniel Kitson articles I could find because I loved the shows of his I’d heard, and in absence of being able to hear his other ones, I at least wanted to know what happened in them. So I’d look them all up and memorize what he’d done in each year. Now that I have heard most of his shows, I don’t need to do that anymore (I mean, there’s an argument that I never needed to do that and could have done something much more productive and/or, just, normal, with my time, but anyway), but I sometimes like to do that anyway.

I like reading comedy reviews/articles about comedians in general. Because some of them are very good, give me good insight into a comedian I already know, or tell me enough about a comedian I don’t know to pique my interest. But many of them are not very good, and that’s interesting to me in a whole other way. I’ll often read a review of a show I’ve seen and see very little connection between the words on the screen and the actual performance. That could have to do with it being different to see a filmed version of a show than it is to be there, but I’ve read a few reviews of shows I’ve seen live, and those also tend to feel off. If anything, those tend to feel even more “off”.

That’s presumably caused by a combination of two different things, both of which I find interesting: every person’s experience is subjective so even the same show can feel very different for different people, and the business of writing articles about comedy is weird. The former thing interests me just as a psychological phenomenon, the sort of thing that I guess we all know is the case but I tend to not always remember. And the latter thing interests me as a nerd who is interested in this sort of thing that’s of interest to almost no one else, and that’s the bit I want to focus on.

I think comedy might just be really hard to write about (if you do it properly, I mean, not just stick every thought from your head into a Word document and then post it on Tumblr while normally not even bothering to read it back and edit out the most glaring errors). It’s such a subjective thing, and we don’t even really know why some things make us laugh so much, and no one’s really going to understand what something’s like unless they see it themselves.

If there’s a way to write about comedy and have the writing bear any resemblance to reality, I think finding that is severely hampered by anyone trying to do it in the “newspaper style”. Does that make sense? Probably not, because everyone’s experience is subjective and I can describe something that makes sense to me but anyone reading it will get something completely different from it. But what I mean is that thing where when someone’s reading it, they can tell the writer has studied journalism. Crucial context is missing, and in its place are pointless details in there that the writer has been told add “texture”. Language is used that no one actually uses. You can feel their awareness of word count in every sentence. And it’s all informed by all kinds of shit that’s not just a desire to tell the readers about a comedy show and/or comedian. The reviewer thinking of their personal reputation, as well as the reputation of the publication for which they write – wanting to be seen as tough, insightful, knowledgeable, not too easily impressed.

I think the context and details thing is the crux of it. Adding details that they think might be interesting to people who don’t know a lot about the thing they’re reviewing, and leaving out context that actually would be interesting to people who do know about it. Trying to appeal to many different types of potential reader at once, but defaulting to the largest group, which will be people who start by not knowing what you’re talking about.

I don’t know. I find all those things interesting in general, about any comedian. I think I didn’t realize just how emotionally attached I’d gotten to Andy Zaltzman until I read the Times calling him the “left-behind sidekick” after John Oliver left The Bugle and I got genuinely furious about it. But of all the reviews I’ve read, the ones about Kitson are always the weirdest. Because those combine the usual weirdness of comedy articles with the fact that everyone (and I do not claim to be any exception to this) is at least a bit weird when they talk or write about or around Daniel Kitson. Everyone. I guess he just throws people off. Some people are fully caught up in his mystique, and it leads them to use language that makes no sense. Some people are self-aware about this phenomenon so scramble to seem like they’re not caught up in his mystique, but the fact that they’re consciously doing that just makes it weirder (I may be projecting a bit as I describe that category of person). I suppose someone could talk/write about him normally if they were genuinely not caught up in his mystique, but there are maybe about ten people in the world who both know anything about him and can say they’re not caught up in it, and those people don’t write for The Guardian. They definitely don’t write for The Guardian, I’ve checked.

Do you want to see an example of what I mean? Specifically two examples to show the spectrum of what I mean, from 2002? I was looking up this sort of thing today, and I wondered how much of this phenomenon is his many years of building up that mystique, and how much is just what he’s like. So I went looking for articles from a long time ago, before he’d built so much up. Which doesn’t really work because as far as I can tell Daniel Kitson’s had everyone’s attention pretty much since he walked off a Blockbusters set sometime in the 90s, but there was a time when he had slightly less attention than he’d build up later. Anyway, I found two articles from 2002 that I think hit different sides of a spectrum.

Here's one from 2002 that I think does a very good job of being quite normal about him, in, of all places, The Metro. There’s an acknowledgement in there of how weird it is that articles about Daniel Kitson are often so focused on his appearance, so I guess the writer was intentionally avoiding making the same mistake, and it worked out well. It isn’t completely free of references to his appearance – I could have lived without reading the phrase “flowing locks” to describe Daniel Kitson’s Phoenix Nights-era hair – but to be fair they were describing his own jokes about it so they had to mention it somehow. There were quotes from him, presented without a sense of either reverence or judgement for his avoidance of fame. They managed to not once make his stutter sound like a bigger deal than it actually is, or find creative, flowery ways to call him a fucking nerd. They tell us what sort of things he talks about and what he said in an interview and what show he’s doing. That’s useful information, if you’re a comedy fan in 2002, or some sort of weird comedy archeologist in 2023.

Do you want to see the opposite of that? Presented as a contrast here is the other 2002 article I found today, from this Australian publication, The Age. To be fair, they’re obviously different types of articles. I can’t say the writer from The Metro did a better job than this other person, partly because I don’t think a writer from The Metro has ever done anything better than anyone, but partly because they were going for different things. The Metro one was trying to give us information, the Age one was trying to do one of those weird sort of profile things, I guess. I don’t like those things, as a rule.

To be fair, I did find that article from The Age really interesting. I didn’t like it, but I found it interesting. Mainly because 2002 was just before the era from which I’ve heard almost any recordings of Daniel Kitson, so I’m interested in an article that’ll tell me what he was doing then, as something else to put on the map of what directions his comedy has come from. A description of his 2002 Edinburgh show is particularly interesting, given that for many years after that, he enjoyed sort of ironically referring to his 2002 winning of the Perrier Award as his quintessential achievement.

So the information is interesting. I just hate that style of conveying it. It always reads as really awkwardly contrived, and I wish they’d just ask the person questions and tell me what the answer was. Or if you haven’t got an interview, tell me what actually happened during the comedy show that you watched. In this particular article, there are some awkward transitions between describing the gig and describing the interview, where sometimes it’s confusing what happened where, and I think that is down to bad writing, rather than just a style I dislike.

I did not mean to get so into any of that in this post. I started because I wanted to copy one quote I really liked from that Australian article that I did not like. A few things Kitson said in that 2002 interview have not held up, and are notable as things he no longer believed in recent years (which is fine, you cannot hold people to everything they said in 2002), so that’s interesting, as a comedy archeologist. A few obvious ones stayed the same, like saying he didn’t want to do TV. A few bits of the described interview that just had me a bit:

But here’s one quote that I think was enduringly true of his work, and also not incredibly obvious – I mean, it’s sort of obvious, but I’d never seen him explain it like this elsewhere: “Because basically I’m far more interested in stuff that is introspective, because that’s how you become truly universal, I think, by making it absolutely specific.”

I really like that quote, as a way to capture a little of whatever quality makes his work so captivating that no one is able to even talk like a normal person when describing him. It’s something Daniel Kitson does really well. Looking at twenty years of his work that comes in wildly different styles and formats and approaches, that quality I think is one of the few consistencies that ties it all together.

I think it might be very good advice, too. I think there’s sort of a scale – something that’s not great is better off being more general, so it appeals a bit to lots of people. Something that has the potential to be really great needs to be fairly specific, so it can really appeal to people who like it. And I don’t even think that means it will only ever appeal to the small pool of people who’d relate to that specific thing, though you will strike gold if that occasionally happens. I think it’s more that something can resonate even if it isn’t exactly relatable, and if it’s specific enough to feel meaningful, then people will connect with it either way. But it’s a risk, because if you go to specific and it’s not great, then that’ll just fall flat with everyone. While if you write something really general then you have a better chance at hitting something at least a bit relatable to lots of people so it’ll come out okay.

I don’t know. Occasionally I try to write things – not the bullshit error-ridden streams of consciousness I put on this blog, but, you know, actual things – and the advice in that quote is something I’ve thought about a lot as I try to do that. I’ve thought about how to get that scale right for years, but since starting to listen to Daniel Kitson, I do feel like I’ve encountered a new standard for how to do it amazingly well. Which is something I hadn’t seen him put into words before I read that article. I think I might be trying to say that listening to so much Kitson has made me a slightly better writer as I see whole new ways to get things right, but I’d like to not be saying that, because that’s the sort of thing people say that makes me say “Why does no one sound like a normal person when writing about Daniel Kitson?”

Anyway. This post got a bit out of hand. There’s actually a whole other thing I wanted to write about, another article but going off on a different subject from it, but I’ve gone so long about this one now that I think I’ll make that another post. Or possibly not write it at all. It’s possible that the world does not need any more incoherent ramblings inspired by Daniel Kitson.

[pumpkin-stars]

Warmin’ Up

Joel Miller/AFAB!Reader. Smut.

Joel takes a bath in a stream while you watch, then he needs warming up.

This has been in my drafts for so long (mid-December whoops) and I finally looked it over again and managed to finish it! (thanks to @honestly-shite​ for making this post ages ago that I obviously saved in the doc at some point bc that prompted me to finish it mwah 💕💕) (and also more thanks to Maia for drawing joel in a stream way back when I first yelled about the idea)

I watched a walkthrough of TLOU1 last year (just before I wrote most of this) so anything that’s not quite in character is my bad oops, I tried.

Warnings/Content: Joel is naked from the get go, lack of shampoo, grey hair appreciation, swearing, teasing, fucking on the forest floor, praise, vaginal fingering, p-in-v, tiddy sucking, his hand over your mouth, temperature play (if you squint), reader is called darlin’ a lot

Word Count: 2.8k

Masterlist

🚨😡 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 😡🚨 

The sun warms his skin as he steps into the stream, clothes folded neatly on the bank, still within reach - his gun on top for easy access just in case someone unexpected shows up and disturbs him. The water’s cold, biting, even with the warmth of midsummer in the air, his skin prickles with goosebumps as soon as his feet are submerged, the hairs on the back of his neck sticking up the way they do when he senses nearby danger, hunter and prey - like all humans have been reduced to these days.

There’s no danger now, though. Unless the fish suddenly decide to nibble his skin.

His nose scrunches as he wades in, a quiet grunt escaping him as his fingertips graze the water, one hand out to keep his balance as he steps over slick rocks, the other cradling his cock and balls against a direct onslaught of chill. He goes up to his belly button, barely able to see his feet - the water’s mostly clear, the rocks beneath darkening the depths, the surface marred by rushing white ripples leftover from the waterfall a short swim upstream.

The trees surrounding this part of the river offer seclusion, the old bridge downstream is impassable, overgrown with moss and weighed down by a fallen tree that makes this the only viable place for a bath: no metal contaminants, a strong but not too powerful current, plenty of places to duck and hide if an animal (or a hunter) comes along.

Not you, though. He won’t hide from you.

“You forgot the soap.” You smirk at him from the bank, lobbing the bar at his head, testing his reflexes as he catches it one-handed with a smile.

“Y’ever stop and think it was on purpose?” He drawls, “Drawing you out for some time alone?”

You shrug and sit on the rock beside his clothes, legs dangling down over the side, feet just above the water. “And what if I’d sent Ellie?”

“She wouldn’t’ve come out here just for soap.” He grins, “Knew I could count on you, though.”

You laugh, leaning back, head tilted away from him, grass in the sky and clouds on the ground as you relax as much as is possible, keeping an eye out for movement through half-closed eyes, listening to Joel as he moves through the water for a minute or two, squeaking indignantly as he splashes you. You sit up to glare at him, the world righted as he smiles at you.

You make no attempt to hide the way your eyes rake over him, watching as he ducks beneath the surface to wet his hair, coming back up like some scarred and dangerous sea-god, the water running over his face, beading in his eyelashes and funnelling off his bearded chin, catching the light and making the greys in his hair stand out all the more against the dark brown tresses.

He reaches up, lathering the soap, chucking the bar back to you as he raises his arms to wash his hair, remiss to use it there, but your supplies of shampoo had run down, left you with bar-soap and nothing else. The nearest store (ten miles east) had run out of almost everything, just four bars left that hadn’t been raided by others… some people are still picky even twenty years after the start of the end. He hates the smell, and so do you - some synthetically sweet, supposedly-strawberry concoction. Throwing it back to you avoids it being washed away downstream, as much as he’d rather not have to use it again. Still, it’s better than blood and sweat.

Nothing beats feeling clean these days, and while you long for daily hot showers, a quick dip in a stream every few weeks is the best you can hope for when you’re on the road. In the woods.

He ducks below the surface again, taking a little time to rub at his scalp, removing all the soap and grime before he emerges, facing downstream. He cups the water, splashing it up to rinse anything he’d missed from his face, giving you the perfect view of water running down his back, over those broad shoulders, tracing patterns over the natural grooves of his form, and chasing each other down, back to their rapid-running home… over the divots at the small of his back, down over the cleft of his ass that just peeks out over the water.

He turns around, and a smile grows on your face as the water drips over his chest. The strength he has is obvious, even with the softness he carries. Greys litter his chest, a light dusting over his sternum, the curls plastered against his skin by the water, nipples pebbled from the temperature. You wet your lips as water travels over his tummy, snakes around and over the scar tissue - new and old, and continues into the depths, some drops getting caught in the hairs below his belly button, but what you want to see most stays hidden in the small waves and ripples caused by backsplash from his presence.

He laughs, hands on his hips, and your eyes snap up to his face.

“Gotcha,” he smirks.

“As if you wouldn’t look if we swapped places.” You scoff, brushing off the heat that curls up your neck and into your cheeks, throwing the soap back as he gestures for it.

“Course not,” he rubs the bar directly on his skin now, over his chest and under each arm, “But I wouldn’t be embarrassed about it.”

“No?” You smirk as he balances, washing his feet before straightening again, “Your cheeks are looking a little pink there, Miller.”

“It’s cold.” He excuses, and turns his attention from you, focusing on cleaning his dick properly as you examine the spreading silver on his scalp.

The soap flies through the air again, landing beside you with a well-aimed splat, and he walks slowly back to the bank, grinning at you all the while as your eyes are drawn to every inch of skin that gets exposed, watching the rivulets navigate his thick thighs and muscled calves.

He likes the air on his skin, takes a moment to feel the grass between his toes and stretch all the tense muscles, his back protesting from age and carrying several guns and half your supplies around all the time. The water keeps him cold, the slight breeze chilling him further as the sun tries its best to warm him up, its efforts paling in comparison to the heat in your gaze.

“Forgot a towel too.” He tells you as he walks to your side, “You didn’t-?”

“Fuck, no, sorry.” You frown, looking around you, even though you know there’s not one there.

“S’alright.” He smiles, “Have to get dry another way, hm?”

You nod, eagerly anticipating as he leans down towards you, tilting your head just-so as his face nears yours… pouting when he continues past you to grab his clothes.

His chest rumbles as he laughs, kissing your cheek before stepping back, stopping where the trees are a little thinner, where the ground is mostly flat enough for two. “You gonna help get me dry or what?”

“Sweetie you gotta get wetter first,” you grin, scrambling from your place on the rock, t-shirt halfway up your torso by the time you stop in front of him. He gives you enough time to peel it off the rest of the way before he kisses you, holding you with a cold hand, fingers starting to prune, against your bare waist.

You break from him first, “I’m not lying on the ground.”

His eyebrows quirk up.

“Not naked.” You amend, grabbing the shirt from his hands and kneeling to lay it out quickly on the grass, feeling for any rocks or roots beneath it.

No use ruining a good fuck with a damaged spine.

You look back at him over your shoulder, eyebrows raising when you catch him looking at your ass.

“Get naked, darlin’. I need warmin’ up.” He smiles, setting his clothes within reach, gun on top just in case.

You grin, throwing a little twig at him as you turn over, sitting on his shirt as you contort, pushing your jeans down your legs, cursing at your own enthusiasm when they get caught on the top of your boots.

He waits, teeth gnawing his lip, watching as the pile of clothes beside you gets bigger, your nipples turning to stiff peaks against the cool air.

“You’re somethin’ else.” He drawls, one hand on his hip as the other brushes his bottom lip, looking down at you hungrily as you pull your underwear off, flinging it at him with a smirk.

He catches it, his smirk only growing when he feels the little wet patch you’ve left on them, “Well, look at this. I’m not the only one who got wet today.”

“Can you blame me?” You shift, leaning back on your elbows and spreading your legs for him, “I had a wonderful view.”

“And now so do I.” He almost growls and kneels quickly between your legs, half-hard as he guides you to lie flat, a large hand skimming your side as droplets break free from his beard and sprinkle your skin.

The cold water doesn’t bother you for long, Joel’s body looms over yours, and while it’s meant to be your role to warm him up, he’s doing a damn good job of getting you all hot and bothered.

“You really gonna let me fuck you out here in the forest, huh?” He grins.

“You can fuck me wherever you want to.”

He likes that, ducking his head to kiss you as his fingers trail over your stomach, leaving goosebumps in their wake, down and down, over that crop of curls, investigating your wetness.

“Fuck, you’re so good to me.” He breathes into your mouth, using your slick to coat his fingers before he presses one inside.

“Joel-“

“Shh, darlin’, can’t make too much noise in case o’hunters.” He smiles.

You know as well as he does that you’ve cleared the area, that the only people around are Ellie, safe and sound in a little cabin upriver, and a couple of disarmed corpses who’ll only disturb you if the infection suddenly helps them stand back up (in which case everyone still walking is well and truly fucked).

Still, you’re willing to try and stay quiet if he wants you to.

Your hands trail his torso and back, using the opportunity to feel as much as you can, checking for stiffness and hidden aches he won’t tell you about. You’ll need to work his shoulders once you get where you’re going, help him release all the tension he holds there, smooth out the knots as best you can.

He presses deeper, curling the finger up to brush your spot, and you abandon your exploration of him, eyes rolling back, sensitive from so many days untouched.

He grins as you gasp, tilts his head to kiss across your jaw and down your throat, sucking a mark into your neck as he adds a second finger, pumping them in and out in a steady rhythm, scissoring them to open you up for him.

“Joel…”

“I gotcha,” he smiles, “So wet already, darlin’… all because’a me?”

“Mhmm,” you nod, clenching around his fingers.

He adds a third, his thumb swiping over your clit, “gonna make you cum ‘fore I fuck you.”

“Get to it then,” you grin, gasping moments later as he withdraws, “Joel?”

“If you’re gonna be like that, I ain’t gonna do anythin’.”

“Please?” You wiggle your hips a little, enticing him back, “I’m sorry, I won’t talk back, you’re in control.”

“That’s right, darlin’.” He nods, “I am in control.”

Your eyes roll back as he slips two fingers in again, pumping them a few times before the third rejoins.

“Oh, Joel!”

“Shhh,” he whispers, “What’d I tell ya?”

“Sorry,” you match his volume, “So good…”

He grins, leaning down to kiss over your chest as his thumb rubs your clit once more, his teeth grazing lightly over your flesh before he sucks a nipple between his lips, eyes on yours.

He’s so good… it‘s so much… Those three fingers so thick inside you, meticulously providing pleasure with the same skill he handles a gun, trigger finger curling and applying just the right amount of pressure for the best results… The scratch of his beard on your skin, the drops of water that run from his body to yours, their temperature warmed between you as you fight off the cold together. 

He swaps nipples, leaving a trail of kisses between, flicking over it with his tongue rather than sucking it into the heat of his mouth, his warm tongue contrasting with the cool air. Your cunt clenches hard, hips bucking up into his hand as he strokes over your spot, and laughs warmly around your nipple.

You cling to his shoulders, leaving little half-moon imprints in his skin as the pressure builds, his fingers working you up and up, higher and higher. Your lips part in a silent cry, breath stuck in your throat as you cum hard, Joel smiling against your chest as you lock up tight and turn to jelly moments later.

“So good,” He repeats your words, keeping his fingers inside you as you come down, catching your breath, “So tight when you clamp down.”

You smile at him, a little dazed from the pleasure, moaning quietly as he pulls out of you, resituates himself, hard cock warm, ruddy, and throbbing against your slit.

“Ready for it, darlin?”

“Always,” you breathe, pulling his lips to yours, coaxing him closer, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull him inside.

He goes easy, the familiar path, sliding home in one motion until his hips meet yours, grunting as you gasp, both grateful for this moment of relative calm - relative safety - and the privacy of your surroundings.

“So fuckin’ wet.”

“All for you, Joel,” you smile, “So hot.”

He smirks, “Yeah I am,” and ducks to kiss you again, starting a steady pace, too slow to make anything build except your impatience.

“Joel-!”

“I got you, pretty thing,” he grins, speeding up slowly, making sure to angle his hips just right.

His hands roam over you, rhythm never faltering, fingers drawing patterns in the water that clings to your skin, tracing JOEL through the droplets on your stomach. It tickles, and you squirm beneath him, until he thrusts harder, setting his forearms either side of your head, his face hovering above yours, broad shoulders blocking your view of the trees around you.

“You gonna let me have my way with your pretty pussy?” He wonders, “Let me fill y’up so ridin Callus makes ya squirm?”

“R-riding with you always makes me squirm.” You point out, breaking out into a loud moan moments later.

He grins, adjusting his weight again, moving to cover your mouth with his hand, “What’d I tell you about keepin hush?”

“Mmmf!” You whimper beneath his palm, clenching hard around his cock.

He laughs, speeding up yet again, knocking your breath from you, “Touch your clit, darlin… Wanna feel you cum around me.”

Your hand moves down, doing as he asks, more noises muffled as his own grunts and gasps are free to permeate around you. You can’t help glaring when he kisses the back of his hand, teasing you yet again as he denies you kisses just because you moaned. His smirk is insufferable, and you know, next time, you’ll get your own back somehow… whenever and however that may be.

“Fuck, darlin…” Joel grunts, “Takin me so well…”

He’s been riling you up for days, even when you haven’t been pressed close on the horse he’s found every excuse to touch you. A hand on your back as he moves past you, his thigh brushing your leg as you eat in whatever shelter you’ve been able to find, his touches lingering as you switch over night watch duty, waking you with a breath in your ear and a hand on your hip.

The only solace you’ve had from it is knowing he’s just as desperate for a fuck as you are. Proven by the way he pounds into you now, both of you desperate to claim a release, a moment of relief from everything in the world.

Your thighs shake, and Joel’s hand over your mouth tightens a little, knowing your close, that you’ll need his grip to hide your cries of pleasure from the birds twittering overhead.

“Mm-!” you whine, “Mmm-!”

“Come on, darlin, that’s it, cum for me, go on, yes… yes, that’s it, that’s it-!” His words are cut off as you orgasm, choking his cock as you clench hard, pussy pulsing around him desperately.

It’s only a few thrusts before he follows you, teeth bared, turning his cry into a strangled groan.

The two of you stay in position as you get your breath back, though your legs slip from around his waist and to the floor. He releases your mouth once his jellified body will cooperate, smiling as his forehead meets yours.

“Think I need another bath.”

[tetsvhoe]

MISCOMMUNICATIONS

ask

character/s: suna rintaro, miya atsumu x gn!reader

genre/s: just a smidge of angst to fluff

warning/s: suna thinks you’re cheating (ofc that’s not the case)

gwen’s notes 🤍: i’m trying to finish as many suggestions as i can, couldn’t will myself to finish tendou’s part so i’ll post another part (hopefully i don’t forget)

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

suna rintaro’s lack in expressiveness he makes up for with his perception, not that it makes the situation any better. he tends to overanalyze things, though he’s right most of the time, he would never try and communicate about what’s bothering him.

you’ve been on your phone a lot lately, your number’s always busy when he tries to call you, you say it’s because you’re on call with your friends and you’re playing a game, but he could have sworn you knew next to nothing about gaming unless he had to teach you, you take longer to reply than usual, and his mind just goes to the worst.

he finally snaps when his head is laying on your lap and instead of you gingerly running your fingers through his hair while you ramble about your day and he hums “mhm” and “ahuh, then what happened,”, your nose is shoved into your phone, too distracted to even notice him staring at you in disbelief.

he sits himself up, shoving your arms out of the way and turns his back on you.

“rin, what’s wrong?” you finally speak up, locking your phone and placing it on your lap screen down.

“nothing, just go back to whatever it is you’re doing.”

“it doesn’t seem like nothing. come on, rin. talk to me?” you plead, reaching for his arm which he jerks away from you all too quickly.

“talk is a big word for you, y/n. i’ve been here for over an hour and you only wanna talk now?” he sneers, throwing you a brief but sharp glare before he stands and makes his way out the door.

“rin—”

he turns on his heel before reaching for the knob, “you know what, save us both the time and effort and just tell me right now if you’re talking to someone else.”

your face contorts to a frown, in hurt and confusion, tears burn at the back of your eyes and threaten to spill. “what even are you ta—”

“well i don’t know what else to think! who are you on call with at ungodly hours in the night, why are you always so busy on your phone!?”

your mouth falls slack at the realization, a strangled laugh escaping as your head dips. suna seethes at the sight of you, what’s so funny?

“you absolute dimwit!” it comes out a cross between a chuckle and a sob and you wipe your tears with the back of your hand. “well i guess i don’t have a choice but to tell you now, huh?” he raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “i bought you this new game you kept talking about, i had some of my friends teach me how to play so we can play it together.”

suna’s face drains of color as he feels his stomach drop. he feels terrible but you open your arms right as he starts blabbering for a frantic apology and he all but runs into your arms. you feel his tense body relax against your touch when you return his tight hug.

“shit, i’m such an idiot. i’m sorry.”

“you ruined the surprise.”

“that’s the least you should be worrying about right now, i literally accused you of cheating,” he lifts his head to look you in the eyes, distraught evident in his features. you let out an empathetic smile, fixating on the little hairs sticking out of his head.

“which is why i tell you it’s so important for you to tell me what you’re feeling.”

“i know, i’m sorry. i’ll keep that in mind.” he buries his face to your side again, letting the silence calm both of you. “so, can we play the game right now? i bet you’re still shit at it after all those hours you spent practicing.”

miya atsumu will bottle his emotions up until they explode, and this time is no different. he admits it’s something he needs to work on, but he can only take so much when there’s so much pressure on his shoulders, especially as an important game quickly approaches. he feels like the world is closing in on him and he needs you, but you feel so far away always tucked away with piles of textbooks and paperwork without so much as a “good morning” or a “welcome home” day in and day out.

he pokes his head through your bedroom door and finds you slouched over your desk in front of your computer like the usual, you don’t even hear him come in until he calls out your name.

“didn’t see you there, love. how was practice?”

he huffs sarcastically through his nose, making his way straight to the closet to get a change of clothes without looking at you. “you never seem to see me these days, don’t you think?”

you twirl your chair around to his direction, eyebrows knitted together. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i don’t know,” he mumbles rummaging through his clothes.

“well why would you say something like that, then? i’m over here busy with—”

“yeah, yeah i know you’re busy. you think i don’t notice how busy you are that you can’t even give me the time of day?” he finally turns to you, harshly clutching at the fabric in his hands until his knuckles turn white.

you gasp incredulously, mirroring the glare he gives you. “you inconsiderate idiot. do you have any idea why i’m working myself to death with these requirements?”

“oh, now i’m the inconsiderate one? come on, y/n i know we’re both busy but how can you be so busy that you don’t see how much i need you right now?” his voice fades to a mere whisper towards the end and your heart tugs in your chest. you slowly walk over to him, taking his face into your palms to lift his head and look him in his teary eyes. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to. i-it’s just that this upcoming game, a-and i miss you so much, and i’m tired,” he sighs, head falling onto your shoulder.

“oh, my love. i’m sorry if i wasn’t there for you. i was trying to finish my work early so i could be there for your game,” you soothe him, drawing circles on his back.

“really?” he sniffles, puppy eyes gazing up at you.

“really.”

“great, now i feel even worse,” he grumbles lightheartedly before he straightens himself up. “i really shouldn’t have talked to you that way, i know this is important to you.”

you gently wipe a stray tear away from his face with a gentle smile. “you’re important to me.” he rolls his eyes jokingly before he wraps his arms around your waist, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck, his tears warm against your skin. “but we have to work on your communication with me, hm?”

he nods almost immediately. “yes, i promise. i’m sorry but can you please take a short break for me now, i just need you.”

“of course.”

reblogs appreciated !

[deceitfuldevil]

Truth Serum

Pietro Maximoff X Reader

Summary: While working with Tony and Bruce in the lab you accidentally drink some very experimental truth serum, leading to some unwanted confessions with your coworkers.

Warnings: use of y/n, swearing, lots of dialogue, barely proofread, etc.

Word Count: 1.7K

—

You were busy working with Tony and Bruce in the lab and jokingly Tony placed his latest concoction next to your drink but you didn’t realize until it was too late and you drank Bruce’s experimental truth serum.

“Jesus Tony can you turn down that obnoxious music? I’m so sick of that stupid 70s rock music you’re always playing.”

Tony stopped what he was doing are looked over at you in shock.

“L/n, what the hell are you talking about? You told me you loved my music.”

“Well I lied, I lie to you a lot actually.” You looked up eyes blown wide with dear as you covered your mouth after saying that.

“I did NOT mean to say that.”

“Y/n… did you just take a sip of that beaker Tony so stupidly placed right next to your drink?” Bruce asked pinching the small space in between his eyebrows

You looked down as remorse filled your gut, noticing a small dribble of blue liquid slowly falling down the side of the beaker you obviously just took a drink from. Your eyes life to meet Bruce’s as you slowly nodded a small yes.

“Well, no thanks to Tony now we get to find out if my very experimental truth serum actually works.”

“TRUTH SERUM?!” You shouted, the last thing you wanted was for your team to have unrestricted access to your secrets.

“No thanks to me? Are you kidding Banner? This might be the most fun we have with Y/n all year!” Tony said with a cheeky grin

Your groaned and let your head fall onto the desk you were sitting at. “How long will this last?” You asked muffled

“Best case scenario for you? It could wear off within the next 30 minutes. Worst case scenario? You could be highly responsive and overly truthful for the two days.”

Tony broke out with a loud cackle as he got up from his desk and exited the lab “Good luck kid!”

“And theres no antidote?” You pleaded

“Sorry, but we were barely in the trial phases of creating this and we don’t try to make an antidote unless we know for sure that it works.”

“So how the hell am I supposed to deal with this in the meantime?”

“My best advice? Lock yourself away in your quarters for the next day or so to avoid saying anything unsavory to the rest of the team. Because I don’t have a doubt in my mind Tony left to go and tell the whole team about your little predicament.”

But before you could reply Sam, Rhodey, and Bucky all came running into the lab practically running over each other.

“Okay, I’ve wanted wanted to know. How do you feel really about Redwing?” Sam asked pushing Rhodey and Bucky aside.

“I think you should find a girlfriend so you stop obsessing over a high tech piece of metal.” You said with an unholy amount of sass, already sick of this treatment. Bucky burst out laughing but you sent a pissed off glare his way.

“Don’t think you’re safe either beefcake. You’re 106 years old and still can’t take a joke, not to mention that you’re forgetful as fuck. I mean who the hell just forgets that they have a vibrium arm? I’m not even going to get started on that staring problem you have that you think is so intimidating.” You snapped, shutting everyone in the room up. Before leaving you locked eyes with Rhodey.

“Oh hi Ego Machine! Don’t worry, I didn’t forget about you. I mean who could when you tell that story of how you dropped a tank at the generals feet every single party? I mean, BOOM were you looking to be interesting?”

After shutting every one in that room down you stormed out and locked yourself in your room. You really could tell if you had taken truth serum or just a liquid curse. You never left your room for the rest of the night, not wanting to risk dinner with the team. But you woke up around 5:30 in the morning to. Very strong feeling of hunger, and prayed no one else would be up this early as you snaked down into the kitchen. You walked past Wanda sleeping quietly on the couch as Vision floated peacefully in the corner.

“Creepy motherfucker…” you whispered as you stepped into the kitchen

“What was that you said about my husband?” Wanda said, suddenly on the other side of the counter looking at you with a tilted head. You jumped almost spilling your cereal

“Jesus Christ Wanda! A warning!” You said clutching your head with one hand and the cereal box with the other. But she only looked at you and smiled mischievously

“You can ask anything you want but you’re not allowed to be upset by the answer” you stated plaining, pouring some milk into your bowl.

“Are you talking about the truth serum you took yesterday?” Wanda asked, tilting her head at you.

“Yeah, it might not wear off for another 24 hours. Everyones been dying to find how I ‘really’ feel about them since Tony ran his big mouth and told everyone about this stupid serum I drank.”

“You do remember I can read minds, right? I always know when someone’s telling the truth or lying, I just don’t always call them on it.”

“Right.” You said quietly as you stuffed your face with cereal so you could go back to your quarters as soon as possible.

You sat alone in your room unbothered for the next few hours, until you heard a rock at your door.

“Don’t come in! Go away!” You shouted turning the page of your book assuming whoever was on the other side of your door would kindly fuck off. But as a tall man with a mop of silver hair entered your room you sighed dramatically and threw your book at him, missing spectacularly.

“I could’ve sworn I said to NOT come in.” you said as you crossed your arms over your chest, looking at the ever so muscular man making his way over to your bed.

“And when’s the last time I took orders from you?” Pietro said with a smile.

“You never take orders from anyone, I’m surprised you haven’t been kicked off the team yet honestly.” You spat, bitter that he wasn’t respecting your wishes to be left alone. A pit of nerves also started to grow in your stomach the closer he came to you knowing how you really felt about him, and that if he asked there’d be nothing stopping you from telling him the truth.

“Ah, you wound me dragâ.” Pietro says as he mockingly clasps his hands over his heart as if you’d shot him. You just rolled your eyes in response.

“The team tells me you’ve become somewhat of a bitch since yesterday, is that true?” He asked, sitting down at the foot of your bed.

“I’m not a bitch, Tony just tricked me into drinking some of Banner’s experimental truth serum. But you already knew that didn’t you? Either way, spoiler alert. The stupid serum works and probably won’t wear off for another 12 hours. Besides, I’m only a bitch to the team members I don’t like.” Your eyes widened realizing what you just admitted to Pietro

“I suppose that’s true, Wanda did tell me you weren’t too bad when she ran into you this morning.” Pietro said scooting up next to you in bed, normally you’d tell him to fuck off before he got too close so he would know how much you loved being in his arms but when he asked

“Is this okay?” As he stretched his arms over your shoulders pulling you into his chest

“Yeah, I love it when you hold me. Or just touch me in general, always makes me feel like I’m on cloud nine.” The confession just spilled right out of your mouth, causing you to once again to clasp a hand over your lips to prevent you from saying anything else.

Pietro looked down at you with a shocked eyes but a smug smile, deciding to push his luck he asked “Then why do you always push me away and tell me to fuck off anytime I hug you?”

“Becwagh wi dwomt vhmnf to nmfh…” you said, keeping your hand over your mouth to muffle your answer. Pietro shook his head light at you as he took your hand off your lips and held it, gently caressing your knuckles with his thumb

“What was that darling?” He said as he cobalt blue eyes poured into yours. It’s like he already knew how you felt but just needed to hear you say it to confirm his suspicions. Months of pinning after you, and now here was his chance. He had no other choice but to act on it. You swallowed the last bit of pride and fear held in your chest and said

“Because I don’t want you to know how I really feel about you.” The last of your walls came crashing down as you smiled gently at the handsome man before you, he gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as his faced inched closer to yours.

“And how do you feel about me dragosté?”

“Like you’re the only person in the world I could ever fall in love with.” That was all Pietro needed to push aside his ego hearing how you really felt about him as he leaned down and closed the gap in between the two of you pressing his soft lips to yours. Moving gently with you as his lips slotted perfectly over yours, you breathe in his musky scent as you ran your hand across his chest pulling him closer to you. Sadly it wasn’t long before you both ran out of air and had to pull away

“So how do you feel now?” Pietro asked with a cheeky grin plastered on his lovestruck face

“Like I could kiss your stupid face all day.” You said grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him back in for a much more heated kiss.

The rest of your afternoon and week into the evening was spent in Pietros arms sharing soft kisses and fleeting touches. Although admittedly he was sad when the truth serum wore off and he couldn’t ask you any and everything under the sun about how you felt about him.

But you’d end up showing him how you felt in other ways later on ;)

—

A/N

Ahhh here’s my 4th post that will be published while I’m away at camp! Found this little bit in my notes as well and just fleshed it out enough to post! Hope this was enjoyable!

Much Love,

—Skyler

[queen-rainy-love]

The Pure Lily Family invites the Custard Family to dinner. Its very awkward. Custard Cookie says nothing as the family tries to have small talk or something. Its dessert time and Custard III and Clotted Cream want some, but Custard rudely tells them that they shouldn’t eat sweets. Plus he tells Clotted Cream that he should be going on a diet. The Pure Lily parents says that its okay for them to eat sweets. (The two siblings secretly eat it lol)

Hmmmmm. Interesting idea. I will edit one thing, just cause I did state something in an earlier post.

So let's go.

*One night, after a long, long, LONG three months, the Pure Lily family invites the Custard Family and Vanilla Sugar Cookie for dinner. It's going as well as you think.*

Clotted Cream: So Red Velvet Cookie, how are the Cake Pups doing?

Red Velvet: They're well. Almost old enough to find new homes.

Madeleine: That's too bad. I will miss Knight cuddling with them after a hard mission.

Knight: *trying not to kick Madeleine* Ha ha. Funny.

*silence*

Clotted Cream: My. Wouldn't that be a sight to see. And how about is Ser Espresso Cookie?

Madeleine: He's doing fine. Still a struggle for him to take a break but we're still working on it.

*silence*

Clover: Um... what is the Republic like? I've heard stories about it but I'm curious if that's true.

Clotted Cream: Oh! It's a very beautiful place with amazing views of the sea. Unfortunately, there's not much forest in the Republic but we make it up with our wild sea life.

Madeleine: I can confirm and you have not live until a Jelly Dolphin swam next to you.

Pure Vanilla: That would be amazing. Maybe we should visit one day.

Clotted Cream: That would be amazing. I do hope we can plan it when I come back.

Madeleine: Oh, are you traveling back to the Créme Republic soon?

Clotted Cream: Yes, tomorrow night. I've been gone for just a bit too long.

*Custard III frowns a bit but Clotted Cream pats his head*

White Lily: Well in that case, let me get dessert. We might not see each other for a while, so why not end tonight on a high note? I made my famous chocolate covered jellies.

Custard: That is quite alright. We should be heading to bed for a busy day tomorrow. *Stands up*

Custard III: But dad! Can't we try some?

Custard: No. I don't want you two bouncing off the walls tonight. We need to up bright and early to get things ready.

Vanilla Sugar: Not to mention that we shouldn't really take something from someone with...a past. *Glares at White Lily*

*Red Velvet starts to growl but everyone keeps him at bay*

Clotted Cream: Come now. It would be rude to decline our hosts' generosity. One piece shouldn't hurt.

Custard: After you eating not enough protein for the past few days, I don't thing you need it.

Clotted Cream: But father-

Custard: Unless you can beat me in a fight without your cape, I suggest to stand down.

White Lily: That's enough! *Everyone turns toward her* These two have every right to enjoy what they do. They've done more for Earthbread than you've done in your whole life. And I will not hear another rude thing out of your mouth.

Custard: Bold worlds from the one who started this whole mess.

*White Lily clamps up as Custard and Vanilla Sugar start to leave. Clotted Cream and Custard III follow suit.*

Custard: And don't even think about giving it to them. Financier Cookie will be guarding the door.

*later that night*

*Custard III and Clotted Cream are sitting in their shared guest bedroom, sad/annoyed.*

Custard III: Are you sure we can't go get any? Dad won't know.

Clotted Cream: He might. Financier Cookie is more loyal to him than to me. She will tell him we snuck out. But, *pats Custard III's head* we can get something before I leave for the Crème Republic.

Custard III: That would be nice. *Notices someone outside the window* Hey Clotted Cream. There's someone outside.

*Clotted Cream turns around to see Red Velvet hanging from a ledge with his cake arm while holding something in his cookie arm. He also looks like he's in pain*

Clotted Cream: *quickly opens the windows* *whispers* Are you insane!? You know you could hurt yourself!

Red Velvet: *whispers* I know, but mother couldn't stand knowing that you two didn't try this dessert.

*Red Velvet hands the box of chocolate-covered jellies. Custard III is about to grab one but Clotted Cream stops him*

Clotted Cream: *Whispers* But what if father finds out?

Red Velvet: *whispers* I doubt he would go into the kitchen to check.

*Clotted Cream smiles and the rest of the night is spent the three eating the dessert*

[reidgraygubler]

Spoonful of Sugar (spencer reid/reader)

Title: spoonful of sugar

Request: yes! (a super fluffy spence x reader one shot in which she's sick with the flu, a high fever or something similiar, so he has to take care of her. Usually i'm not that super whiny and wouldn't request things like that buuut i'm in a desperate need for spence to take care of me while i'm ill and home alone.)

Couple: Spencer Reid/gen-neutral!reader

Category: fluff

Content Warning: spencer’s pov, anxiety about an ill partner, none that I can think of. If something does need to be tagged, please message me

Word Count: 1,638

Summary: Spencer stays home from work to take care of his partner, who’s sick with the flu

A/N: sorry this took so long to get posted. i forgot I had it written and it was just sitting in my drafts. it is a little on the shorter side... thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

The person who usually slept beside me did not sleep last night. I only know that because whenever they tossed and turned, it’d wake me up. But also, they kept stealing all the blankets from me. Whenever I tried to take them back, they’d wake up and steal them again. Or they’d be suddenly up in a coughing fit. And then, they finally fell asleep around the time I had to get out of bed for work. Leaving me with another restless night of sleep. I was used to it at this point, but not because of them.

When I left the bedroom, I made sure to be as quiet as possible. I didn’t want to be the reason why they woke up for the day. Clearly something was on their mind and keeping them up. I also made sure they had all of the blankets on their body. While I did that, I sneakily rested my hand on their forehead, and the back of their neck, just to check their temperature.

They were on fire. I’d never felt someone as hot as that in a very long time. It would explain why they got no sleep and kept waking up, and stealing the blankets. They’d need to get medicine and fluids in them, and quickly. But I’ll do that when I’m finished getting ready. They just fell asleep and I’d rather them sleep off their fever.

So that’s what I did. I quickly got ready for work, doing all the necessary things I had to do. I wanted to make sure my person had everything they needed before I left for work.

Which meant a quick stop at the market down the street. The market had their favorite soup, juice, and snacks. If I was going to go into work today, I needed to make sure they had everything they needed before I left for the day. And if they wanted me to stay, I’d do that for them.

“Hey Emily, I’m going to be late to the office today,” I said into my phone as I grabbed a basket. The store had several people, just enough for me to be cautious of where I was going. And it pressured me to be even quicker inside.

“Oh! Of course! Is everything okay?” Emily asked, the concern in her tone sounding genuine. I sighed before nodding.

“Yeah, just... Just need to take care of someone who’s sick,” I explained as I grabbed a bottle of orange juice.

“Take all the time you need! We got everything covered here.”

“Thank you so much.”

“Of course, call me if you need anything!” She proclaimed before bidding farewell. I sighed deeply before pocketing my phone and headed towards the deli to get some soup. They always gave me chicken noodle, with the good thick egg noodles. Since they also enjoyed White Chicken Chill, I got that for them, too. Anything to make them feel better sooner.

Once I got both soups, enough juice for a small household, and plenty of healthy snacks, I made the trek back home. Whether they enjoyed the things I got them or not, I knew they’d enjoy the thought. Because that’s all that matters, right? The thought?

When I got home, I prepared the chicken noodle in a bowl, and grabbed a bottle of juice with electrolytes, and brought it to the bedroom. They were still asleep, however slightly stirring. Instead of just leaving right away, I waited a moment for them to wake up.

“My head is pounding,” they groaned as they brought a hand to rest on their forehead. “Like I drank a fifth of whiskey,” they added. I held back my chuckle and sat on the edge of the bed.

“You’re hot.”

“Thanks so are you,” they blew me a kiss. I rolled my eyes before shaking my head.

“You have a fever, Dear,” I corrected as I handed them the bottle of juice. “I got you soup, juice, and healthy snacks.”

“You’re too kind, Spencer,” they hummed as they struggled to open the bottle. I watched as they sighed and handed the bottle over to me. I smiled as I cracked the bottle open.

“I have to go in, but if you want me to stay I can.” I handed the bottle back to them. They smiled brightly before taking a big sip of the juice.

“No, no, you’re the breadmaker here. You’d be no use to me here.”

“I can help you,” I breathed out a laugh. They lazily smiled before shrugging. “I’m gonna get you medicine.”

“If you don’t come back with Day and Nyquil, don’t come back at all,” they teased. I laughed as I looked back at them.

“Eat your soup, I’m getting you medicine,” I repeated as I pointed at the bowl of chicken noodle on the nightstand. They glared at me before picking up the bowl. I was quick, grabbing the medicine they asked for and a bottle of Aleve.

“Do you need anything else?” I looked down at them as I placed the bottles on the nightstand. They shook their head as they looked back at me, watching as I sat back down beside them.

“I’m all good here.”

“I can stay if you need me to,” I whispered as I looked over at them. They looked away from the bowl of soup with wide eyes. “Surely Emily won’t care. Family first.”

“As much as I’d love for you to stay, Spence, they need you just as badly there,” my person slurred their words. I could only imagine just how congested their sinuses and how blocked their nasal passages were. Which would only cause a migraine. “Besides, I don’t want to get you sick. You’re a baby when you’re sick.” They smirked at me.

“Am not!” I exclaimed as I looked at them. They shrugged before rubbing the underside of their nose. Should have grabbed them tissues while I was at the store. “Seriously, I’ll stay.”

“Seriously, go to work.”

“If I didn’t know any better it sounds to me like you’re trying to get rid of me.”

“I am,” they mumbled as they blew softly onto their spoonful of soup. I rolled my eyes before standing up off the bed.

“Okay, okay, I’ll go.” I lifted my hands as a sign of surrender. They looked up at me with a soft smile. “Good to know you can get rid of me so easily.”

“I’ll call you if I need anything.” They placed the soup back on the nightstand before shifting down the bed.

“And I’ll let Emily know I’ll be on desk duty.”

“Spencer,” they warned.

“I’m going! I’m going! Gone! See! Gone!”

“Love you!”

“Love you, too!”

I should have stayed home.

{***}{***}{***}

Okay, maybe Spencer should have stayed home because… I really miss him. I thought I’d be fine if he went in, and I’d get by… But I really want him. God I’m never whiny and asking for things, and the only thing I want… I sent it away.

I could call him… He’d drop everything and come right over. But… He should work. There is a reason why I sent him to work. That was where he was most needed. What if I was wrong though? What if he was most needed here, with me? No, no he’s the brain of the BAU.

But it’d be really nice if he stayed home with me.

Yeah, I made a mistake sending him to work. I’ve never felt so clingy in my entire life. Damn my stupid clinginess.

Did he know I was thinking about him? I must’ve, because he was calling me. Probably just checking in on me. I could ask him to come home. Unless he’s in the middle of helping a case and can’t come home.

“How are you feeling?” Yep, just calling to see how I was doing. It was probably a good thing that he was calling me. He probably just knew I wasn’t feeling any better.

“Could be better,” I paused as I looked over at his side of the bed. It was made but a little tousled around because of my sleeping. “Kinda wish you stayed here,” I whispered, mostly to myself.

“Already on the way home,” he stated like it was no big deal.

“Really?” I asked, feeling a little bit of excitement in my tone. Surely it just sounded like I was stuffy to Spencer. He laughed.

“Finished early. And… Emily noticed I was too distracted thinking about you. I’m about halfway there, do you need anything?”

“You… To get here quickly and give me all the cuddles in the world,” I dramatically sighed as I curled in on my side. “But… Safely!” I quickly added.

“I will be there soon, Dear,” Spencer mused before chuckling lightly. “Do you need anything?”

“No, I should be okay.”

“I’ll be home soon."

“Okay, bye,” I whispered before hanging up. I tossed my phone into the empty space beside me before curling back onto my side. Now that I knew Spencer would be home any minute, maybe I could sleep. Or maybe I should stay awake and wait for him.

Whatever, it didn’t matter. I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, Spencer was crawling into bed beside me and I was slowly waking up.

“Shh, go back to sleep,” he whispered as he pulled the blanket back over me. Although it felt like I was on fire, the blanket felt safe over me. Or maybe that was Spencer’s arms wrapped around me that made me feel safe.

“No, no,” I mumbled as I moved as close as possible to him. Spencer laughed lightly before pressing his lips to my forehead. “Don’t leave me again,” I whispered into his chest.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

{***}{***}{***}

if you have any comments/questions about this part, let me know here! please consider reblogging or leaving a comment if you’re a part of the taglist. it’s so much work tagging everyone.

not able to tag: @isabellasimps

@thebluetint @mggsprettygirl @muffin-cup @misshale21 @spenciegoob @reidspoet @ash19871962 @babebenhardy @flipperpenguins @kuolonsyoja

@broken-stardust @beepbooptoop @ray-lia