#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.

[jinx-xxed]

Happy Holidays

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A/N; I’m 2 days late (I’m so sorry) BUT I have returned to do a Christmas fic woohoo ^_^!!! Take this as my gift to you all because thank you so much for the constant support on the fics I’ve posted, I never expected all this and I’m very happy that people like them! It motivates me to keep going :) I hope to be able to post more soon/in the new year! Anyway, I hope you all enjoy and happy holidays to everyone!

Part of Written in the Stars

Summary; It’s nice to not spend Christmas alone.

Content; NSFW 18+, modern AU, Christmas fic, original characters, you and Kylo are in college, early 20s, childhood friends to strangers to lovers vibe, shared loneliness, you have a kitten, you’re an aspiring NASCAR driver, family issues, mention of abusive parents, mention of you smoking, Kylo cooks for you, very domestic, admission of feelings, reconciliation, Kylo is down bad sorry not sorry, Kylo wants to care for you, he’d do anything, desperate Kylo (my fav), first time together, eating out, fingering, marking, praise, piv sex, soft sex, aftercare, showering together, cuddles

Wc; 6.5k

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

Someone is knocking on your door.

It’s 4:38 PM on Christmas Eve and someone is knocking on the door to your college apartment.

“What in the fuck?” You snap, having to pause the video you’d been watching on your phone. Your only companion is BB, the little black and silver kitten you’d found a few weeks ago who’s thankfully no longer sickly and has been putting on good weight. His head is now raised, eyes squinted from sleep. You’re about to go back to what you were doing when the knocking comes once more. You loudly groan this time, ripping off the stack of covers and blankets and swinging your legs over the side of the bed.

You stomp through the apartment in your ratty t-shirt and sweatpants combo, more than ready to punch whoever’s on the other side of the door. You undo the double lock and swing it open, a brutal, anti-Christmas glare on your face. It’s wiped away in a second and replaced by shock when you see who’s waiting there, hand half raised as if to knock again.

“Kylo?” You say incredulously.

The wall of a man is dressed in his full winter attire—a long black peacoat over a black turtleneck and pants, with a scarf undone around his neck and black leather gloves covering his hands. Snow dusts his shoulders and the silky black strands of his hair, his scar stands out starkly along the left side of his face. His expression mirrors yours, seeming surprised you even opened the door.

His sticks his hands in the pockets of his coat. “Are you doing anything?”

You arch a brow and look backwards into your apartment, as if checking to make sure there’s no Christmas party going on. It’s dead silent and empty. “What do you think?” You ask dryly. You even told him how sad your Christmas was going to be when he was helping you with BB; Chief—your white haired best friend—is traveling, you’re banned from family gatherings by your mother, you have nowhere to go and nothing to do.

“Then come over to my place.” Kylo says simply, halfway between a question and a demand.

Your head tilts, brows furrowing. “For what?” You didn’t think you were on those kinds of terms. The terms of inviting each other over for fun rather than just in moments of reluctant alliance—which in recent cases was a sick kitten who’d been buried in snow on the street.

Kylo huffs as his eyes roll. “For Christmas. Unless you want to spend it in your barely heated apartment by yourself, then by all means, go ahead.”

You glare at him and hold it as you mull the idea over in your mind. You hate to admit it would be nice to get out of the apartment where you huddle under ten layers, plus Kylo’s house is really fancy… and it would be like when you were kids, your two families spending every holiday together before… everything happened. You sigh, briefly hanging your head and staring at his shiny shoes. “Fine.” You meet his eyes again. “But I’m bringing BB.”

He shrugs like it makes absolutely no difference. You tell him to give you a few minutes before you shut the door on him, hurrying back inside to get changed. You throw on simple black jeans, a white button up you only got for job interviews, and sleek black boots. BB doesn’t make a fuss when you put him in his carrier, and you put some of his food in a backpack. You put on your heavy duty jacket and you’re ready to go.

You find Kylo where you left him, except he took to leaning against a wall. He straightens when he sees you, briefly looking you over with something in his eyes that you can’t place. Your outfit is so simple and unassuming that you just take it as him judging you. “Let’s go.” You bite out.

Kylo leads the way without a word, the both of you sharing a silent elevator ride down to the ground floor. The only reason you live in a nice, on campus apartment building is because of Chief. Unlike you, she didn’t get cut off by her abusive mother and left to flounder with nothing, so Chief is able to get some of the finer things in life. You’re lucky she splits them with you.

You hiss and retract into your jacket as soon as that below freezing air hits you right in the face. There’s roughly seven inches of snow on the ground with more on the way and more being spat out by the gray clouds that obscure the setting sun. Winters up here have always been hell, and it makes you want to turn right around and forget you ever agreed to join Kylo for Christmas. BB agrees with a pitiful meow as the cold gets him through the mesh of his carrier, despite the extra blanket you stuffed in there.

You make it a quick walk to the small parking garage, Kylo’s new, black Honda Civic Type R waiting inside. You give yourself only a second to admire the car—astonished at what mommy and daddy’s money can buy—before you slip into the leather seats with teeth chattering, clutching BB’s carrier in your lap. Kylo follows, blasting the heat as soon as the keys hit the ignition. “This better be good if you’re dragging me out of my apartment into this.” You can’t help but snap.

“It’s not like your apartment is much warmer.” He retorts. You grumble over the fact he’s not entirely incorrect.

The drive from your building to his house is about twenty minutes, his home sitting in a nice neighborhood far enough from campus that they don’t run the risk of vandalism from party kids. It makes your lip upturn, looking at all the fancy houses with fancy decorations, cars lined up in the driveways and warm lights filtering through windows. It reminds you of how it’d be when you were younger, with you and Kylo’s families coming together to celebrate, parents gathering around to talk while you two ran off to play games or do something stupid. Thinking about it creates a pit in your stomach, one that’s full of something like regret and longing.

Kylo’s home is nice, to put it lightly. His mother gave it to him despite his estrangement when he decided to go to the college in the area. It has a lovely dark wooden exterior with multi-color wooden accents to match. It’s not small by any means with two floors, a basement, and an attic, everything spacious and well furnished—it’s far more than any college kid would probably need. Han used to teach a class or two on campus during special events, just so students could get some lessons from a real pro in the racing scene. Your own father would do the same before his accident ruined it all.

You’re torn from your thoughts when the car comes to a stop in the safety of the garage. You’re reluctant to leave the warmth of the Honda but you manage to get yourself up and follow Kylo. When he unlocks the door and lets you inside, your eyes widen with the sight that greets you.

“Woah-kay.” You say with a sort of awe, your head tilted back to look at all the decorations. There’s garlands wrapped along the stair banister and strewn across parts of the high-arching ceiling, mixing with the chandelier hanging above. Soft golden lights are embedded into each strand of pine. There’s smaller pieces like little trees and deer placed methodically on the small server table near the door and on the mini shelves along the walls. The wooden floor is fitted with a red carpet that leads into the massive kitchen and adjoining living room, more pretty lights and decorations filling the way.

When you enter into the living room, you can’t help but gasp at the large tree filling the back wall near the fireplace. It’s so reminiscent of the one from your childhood, Leia never liking the hassle of real trees and so always bringing out the same trusty fake one each year. The white lights reflect nicely off the windows, the dark green branches void of any ornaments. All together it’s very homey and warm, the occasional candle lit amongst the rooms. It’s the exact opposite of Kylo.

While you were walking through the house taking it all in, he took off his winter gear and stuffed it in a closet somewhere, leaving him in the turtleneck, pants, and black socks. “I’m shocked you did all this.” You manage to say when he joins you in the living room, you still spinning in circles to look at everything.

“There were some old decorations in the basement.” He says. He rolls up his sleeves and crouches by the fireplace which you notice is already loaded with fresh logs and crumpled newspaper. He throws in a match and watches it burn, stoking it a few times to make sure it catches. The sound of crackling fire along with soft Christmas music playing from a speaker filters into the room and you can’t help but feel you walked into a Hallmark movie.

You look at Kylo skeptically. “What’s all this for?”

He shrugs as he walks by into the kitchen. “We can’t celebrate how we used to?”

You scoff. “Did you do this just for me?” You know the answer to your own question considering there’s no one else here and the fact he won’t reply. “What if I had said no?”

“I knew you wouldn’t.” He says, and it annoys you how sure of himself he is.

You ignore him and instead decide to let BB loose. You pick him up out of the carrier, holding him in front of you with his back feet dangling. “Do not go tearing up all the decorations, you hear me? And don’t eat any either, I don’t need that emergency vet visit tonight.” You scold, even as your kitten just gives you his usual dumb wide-eyed look. You sigh and set him down, watching him trot off like this is his second home. It’s not far off considering Kylo still has a litter box here for him.

You shrug off your jacket and shoes, then following a delicious scent into the kitchen. Kylo’s taking two small dishes from the oven as you settle yourself into one of the barstools at the counter, a roaster with what smells like ham inside sitting nearby. You watch Kylo’s methodical movements, double checking all of his dishes and putting everything in the right spot. The food makes your mouth water and stomach grumble, reminding you that you haven’t had a decent meal in the week that Chief has been gone.

“Honey glazed ham, mashed potatoes, and green bean casserole with cheese. Does that sound good for you?” Kylo asks with a raised brow.

You almost laugh. “Are you kidding? That sounds good as fuck.”

Kylo nods and gets down two plates. “Do you want wine?”

“Absolutely.”

“I’m restricting you to one glass.”

You roll your eyes. “Bastard.” Leia’s family always had the best wine you’ve ever tasted, full of rich, strong flavors and a very fine texture. It always surprises you with how good it is, and that’s why you could easily take a whole bottle. One glass won’t do much for you.

Kylo prepares a plate for you and for himself while you dump some of BB’s dry food in his bowl, just so he feels included. And so maybe he’s less inclined to try and get to the ham.

Since the dining table got moved, you and Kylo decide to sit at the counter, just the few inches of space between the chairs separating you. You take a sip of the wine first, that beautiful taste the same as you remembered it. Kylo can’t help watching you from the corner of his eye as you try the food. You give every dish its turn, and each one is just as good as the last. Bursting flavors and cooked to perfection, it’s like heaven.

“God damn.” You mumble around a mouthful, happily digging in. “I didn’t know you could cook this well.”

“I’m glad you like it.” Kylo says, finally diverting his gaze from you and focusing on his own plate.

You both sit in silence for a while, neither really knowing what to say or if you should say anything at all. You instead listen to the Christmas music coming through the speaker, the warmth of the fire on your backs. You try to ignore the type of emotion that wells inside you, some weird kind of nostalgia mixing with melancholy. You hate missing the old days, you hate missing when your family wasn’t a fractured mess, when your mother wasn’t cruel. And you hate missing a man who’s sitting right next to you on top of it all. There’s so much that has changed, both in your lives and yourselves. Hell, you hadn’t seen him in eight years until about seven months ago when you spotted him in a random bar your band had been playing at.

You drown out the thoughts by emptying your wine glass, the slight burn going down a welcome distraction.

When you’re finished with a second plate, you’re so full you can barely muster any kind of energy to move from your seat. You manage to slide out of your chair and then promptly flop onto the soft couch, the fire hot against your face. Kylo cleans up behind you, more than pleased with himself and his cooking skills.

You easily doze off with the sounds of Christmas music and dishes lightly clattering in the background. You’re not sure how long you lay there on the couch with your eyes closed, finally content with a full belly and some proper warmth—until something hits you in the face.

“Ow- fucker.” You snap, propping yourself up on your elbows and squinting against the light. You look down to find a rectangle nicely wrapped in dark blue paper, a little white bow sitting in the left corner. You’re confused while Kylo sits on the couch next to you, jostling you on the cushions.

“Open it.” Kylo says, watching you expectantly as you sit up.

You look at him skeptically, not sure how to proceed with the gift in your hands. You decide to oblige him, tentatively ripping at the crisp paper and finding what’s underneath. Your eyes widen, breath catching in your throat. It’s the video game you’ve been wanting, the one you’ve been pining after since its release a year and a half ago—you just never had the sixty dollars to cough up for it. You’d mentioned it in passing in some random conversation with Kylo that you can’t even remember and so you never expected that it would end up in your hands in this moment.

“What- I… I didn’t get you anything.” You mumble, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.

Kylo leans forward, his hands clasped between his open legs. You can feel his gaze burning into you. “I didn’t want you to.”

“Thank you.” You manage to say. “For all of tonight. It was nice.” It was nice to not spend a holiday alone, to feel like a normal person again and not someone just trying to get through this day and then the next. It was… nice to spend some time with him again, without the hostility and bad memories between you.

Kylo nods, looking down at the floor as he goes quiet for a moment. His fingers twitch, his thumb tapping against the back of his other hand. He blows a sigh through his nose, clearly debating something, struggling with himself until- “I want you.”

Your head snaps up, your mouth falling open, brows furrowed. “What do you-“

“I want you, I’ve wanted you so fucking bad all this time. I’ve spent the last eight years agonizing over what I did, wishing I could just- just undo it because I’m so sick of you pushing me away. Every fucking time I think we get better and then you just shut me out again.” His words come out in a rush and he gets to his feet, one hand on his hip while the other goes into his hair as he paces. “I wish you would just let me in, let me- let me help you, fuck, so you’re not sitting in a freezing apartment all winter and living off shitty food and cigarettes.”

You stand abruptly, matching him. “You think I don’t want that?” You demand. “You think I don’t fucking miss you? You think I don’t wish I could talk to you like I used to, to come to you with anything? I miss you, Kylo, I miss you so fucking bad. I have for years. But you fucked up and I am scared of that happening again.”

He steps up to you, grabbing your hand, looking at you with such conviction it makes your breath stutter. His voice is quieter when he speaks. “Then let me show you it won’t. Give me a fucking chance and just let me try.”

You can tell he means every word he says, that’s always been a trait of his. He’s blunt and straightforward and he needs you to know exactly what he means, exactly what he wants from you. There’s a million emotions swirling inside of you, two sides going to war in your mind. There’s that part of you that wants to shove him off again, just like every other time, and forget any of this happened so you don’t have to bother but then… there’s the part that simply wants to melt into his embrace because you’re just so tired. Tired of longing, of wanting, of resisting.

You know what side won when you’re reaching up, your hand caressing his cheek and watching as he shudders in a way only you could notice, bringing him down to finally kiss him. It feels like the world stops in that moment, like something has at last been righted after all this time, like an axis is no longer tilted. It’s akin to remembering the thing you’d forgotten, to finding something you’d lost so long ago, to putting in that final puzzle piece. Kylo’s mouth is warm and plush against yours, his hands immediately finding your hips and pulling you into him. You instantly relax against his touch and you realize how bad you’d wanted it, how much you craved the comfort of him.

He’s eager and hungry, chasing your tongue and taking everything that you give him. He explores every inch, he makes sure he’s thorough. He’s waited so long for this and he’s not going to waste it, just in case this is his only chance. He makes his way down, abandoning your lips to kiss the corner of your mouth, then along your jaw, following the path to your neck. Your breath is coming fast, your chest pushing against his as you both pant with need. You yelp when you’re suddenly lifted off the ground, Kylo’s hands on your ass and making your legs wrap around his middle.

You cling to his strong shoulders as he carries you upstairs, moving quickly into his bedroom. You barely get to look around at it before you’re being laid roughly on the bed, Kylo immediately following you, practically enveloping your body with his. His room is decorated simply, with a desk and dresser and bookshelves lining the walls, a closet to the left, and the occasional simplistic painting on an empty space. Everything is darkly colored including the black comforter you’re currently on, the material soft and briefly cooling against your burning skin.

You let out a sharp moan when his teeth graze the skin of your neck and Kylo groans in tandem, the sound music to his ears. Before you know it, your shirt is unbuttoned and exposing your chest to the chilling air, goosebumps raising along your flesh. Kylo is fast to remedy this, one of his warm hands coming up and massaging a breast through your bra, his eyes briefly trained on the motion.

“Fuck, I’ve thought about this so many times.” He whispers, his lips soft against your collarbone and sternum.

You hum, your fingers carding through the silky strands of his hair. “Me too.”

He lifts you up to get rid of your shirt and your bra, unclipping it with ease and throwing both pieces across the room. He doesn’t hesitate to take one of your perked nipples into his mouth, the wet sensation making you whimper and writhe beneath him. His hand gives attention to the other side, squeezing and pinching and eliciting as many sounds from you as he wants. You can feel the tent in his pants rubbing against you through the fabric, something like heat pooling in your stomach as a result. He kisses your other nipple, bringing it into his mouth and swirling and flicking it against his tongue, making sure to give it the same attention as the first. He’s meticulous, wanting to get all of you, leaving his mark with spit and little nips of his teeth.

When he thinks he’s done enough, he steadily kisses his way down, multitasking with undoing the buttons on your jeans before those are also tossed to some place on the floor. “I don’t think this is very fair.” You pant, referencing the fact he’s still fully clothed.

Kylo smirks against your belly before straightening himself. He pulls his turtleneck up and over his head, revealing his perfectly toned abdomen. His muscles are well defined and splattered with freckles and light scars, the one on his face going down past his collarbone. You still have yet to find out how he got it, but you know it’ll come with time. It seems you’ll have all the time in the world now.

He’s on you again in a second, this time your hands coming forward to explore the smooth planes of his chest and back. You can feel his strength beneath your fingertips and it makes you shiver, sending it right down to your cunt. It’s then that he pulls off your underwear in a quick motion, his mouth parted in anticipation. His palm sits on your knee, moving it aside to look at your center that’s already glistening with your arousal.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He says with a low rumble to his words, his eyes barely leaving your pussy. All you can do is whimper in response. His chest heaves. “I’m going to eat you out. Okay?” You nearly choke on your saliva but you manage to nod.

That’s all he needs.

Kylo begins his descent at your breasts, lightly kissing each one and steadily moving down your front, his big hands rubbing soothing lines along your thighs with the occasional self indulgent squeeze. He can feel your tension beneath him, the way your muscles are bunched from your nerves. “Relax, baby. I’ll take care of you.” He murmurs against your skin like a promise, just as he’s lowering himself between your legs. His eyes are level with your cunt, nothing but pure desire filling his blown out irises. There’s a puff of air against your wetness that makes you quiver. “I’ll take care of you.” It’s quieter this time, full of reverence as he secures his arms around your thighs, resting your calves on his shoulders.

He licks a fat stripe up your pussy, collecting all of the initial slick that was gathered there. You nearly squeal but hold it back last second, it instead sounding like a strangled whine. It’s been so long since someone ate you out you’ve nearly forgotten what it felt like, but Kylo is quick to make you remember. He takes every inch that you’ve given to him, his uses his tongue’s full potential. He uses languid movements, licking from your hole and up to your clit where he circles it before sucking it into his mouth. It sends bolts of pleasure shooting through your body, causing you to moan and buck into his face. He likes that reaction, so he takes it upon himself to do that a couple times, watching as you writhe with your mouth dropped open and eyes squeezed shut.

“Can’t wait to see how you act when you cum, sweet thing.” He says through his breaths. He dives back down, sticking his tongue into your hole and swiping up all the fresh arousal you’ve dripped for him, spreading it across your pussy as he eats you like a man starved.

Kylo lets go of one of your legs to drag two fingers through the lips of your cunt, collecting the wetness before stuffing you full. You let out a sharp whimper at the new feeling, his thick fingers easily filling your still-tight hole. He does a few exploratory pumps, pressing against your plush walls, scissoring to stretch you wider. He curses as he watches, his cock aching in his pants at the thought of sinking into you as deep as you’ll take him.

He returns his mouth to your clit, sucking it against his tongue and occasionally scraping his teeth along the bud, listening as your moans grow in pitch and speed, your heels digging into his back. It’s better than anything he imagined before—your taste, your sounds… it’s like his own personal heaven. He never thought he’d get the chance to have you before him like this and he couldn’t be more grateful to have your pussy on his tongue.

“Fuck, Kylo, fuckfuckfuck-“ You gasp, and he groans at the way you say his name with ecstasy on your lips. He feels a certain pride that he’s making you like this, making you a soaked, moaning mess on his bed. Your back comes off the mattress with the way it arches, your fingers digging sharply into his comforter as you feel that familiar pressure building in your gut. It’s hot and burning and so close to being released. He realizes this, deciding to swirl your clit harsher, pump his fingers faster and deeper, even being able to squeeze a third one into your throbbing cunt.

With all of that, with your senses overloaded, you scream as you cum all over his hand. Your body heaves as you try to breathe, your mind buzzing while trying to regain any semblance of rational thought. Kylo dips his head down, gathering up every drop of your cum and licking his fingers clean while your legs twitch on his shoulders. It’s been years since you came that hard and you realize now how much you missed it.

You come back to when Kylo shifts, raising from between your legs. You reach for him, feeling such a desperate need for him and to draw him closer. “C’mere.” You whisper, still barely able to think straight. He obliges, returning to you and your lips. He kisses you deeply and sensually, residue from your cum still on his tongue, the entire bottom half of his face wet and shiny with your arousal. Your arms sling across his shoulders, your legs wrap around his hips, drawing him in and rubbing his erection against your sensitive pussy, making you moan into his mouth.

You hear the buckle of his belt come undone, the zipper of his pants a second later. You can feel yourself start to drip again despite the fact you just came, excitement bubbling inside you. There’s movement next to you as Kylo rifles through a drawer, pulling out a condom and parting from you for just a second to rip it open with his teeth. He rolls it on with a practiced ease, finally drawing your eyes down to his cock. It’s almost painfully hard, making you startle from his size. He takes your chin and averts your focus, your eyes meeting his. You’ve always loved his eyes—how pretty they are, how kind they can look. How angry too.

He kisses you when his tip prods at your cunt, your breath catching as he slowly enters you. Kylo rumbles low in his throat, something that reverberates through your whole body and makes your pussy clench around him. He nearly chokes, his hands coming down to brace himself on either side of you. “Shit.” He hisses, pushing himself in further. You can’t help your little whines and moans as he keeps going, making sure you take him. Just when you think another inch will make you burst, he sheaths himself to the hilt, both of you groaning.

“Fuck!” He snaps in a half whisper. “You’re so fucking good, sweetheart. So good to me.”

You nod along, trying to keep your gaze focused on him rather than looking away. You want to see him, his reactions, just like you know he wants to see yours. He takes another second to get used to the bliss of your warm, gummy walls before he finally moves his hips. Just a simple thrust, an experiment of sorts. Kylo nearly comes undone right then before he gets ahold of himself, inwardly cursing the way he’s acting like some high school boy. He’s never been good at controlling himself around you, especially now with his cock buried so deep in your hot pussy.

He draws all the way out before snapping his hips and sheathing himself again, feeling the way you suck him back in and refuse to let go. He does it once and then twice, quickly finding his rhythm and fucking into you properly. Your moans have more volume now, each one punctuated by his thrusts. He leans down, his lips sucking and biting at your neck, so eager to leave his mark on you, to at last take what’s his. He’s wanted you for so fucking long and he’s not going to lose you again. He’s going to do everything for you, he’s going to take care of you like you deserve because god knows no one else has.

Those thoughts have Kylo moving with more determination, hitting that spot in your cunt time and again—you make it obvious with the way your moans will turn into whines when he gets it. Your pleasure is one of the best sounds he’s heard, he never wants to stop hearing it. Your nails dig into his back as you scrabble for purchase, already teetering on the edge of another orgasm from him pounding into you. He can feel the way your walls flutter, your stomach tensing in preparation.

Kylo reaches a hand down and rubs harshly on your aching clit with his thumb, making you screech while he smirks in satisfaction. That knot in your stomach releases soon after and you cum all over his cock, your pussy squeezing him in such a delicious way he moans and tosses his head back. “Fucking Christ.” He pants. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

He never imagined it could be this good. He’s never stopped thinking of you, even when he was fucking other girls to try and distract himself from how badly he needed you. It never worked of course, because none of those girls could ever compare to the excellence that is you. You are all he needs, all he’s ever needed. He curls himself over you again, his face burying into your neck, inhaling your scent and sucking at your sweat slicked skin. “Say it. Say you’ll be with me, that you’ll be mine. Say this won’t be over after tonight.” He demands, straightening to look you in the eyes, continuing to thrust into you all the while. “Say it.”

You swallow thickly and he watches your throat as it bobs, your lips slightly parted. You hesitate for just a second, just a moment of thinking about what could go wrong, of those past grievances. You find that you don’t really care, that you don’t have the energy to keep up those same walls anymore. So you nod. “I will be yours. I will be with you.” You say and watch as relief flashes over Kylo’s face and disappears just as quickly, his emotions never lingering for too long. Something in your chest eases, like someone finally stopped squeezing your heart in a cold fist.

He kisses you again as his thrusts grow erratic, his hips stuttering in their rhythm. You feel the way his cock twitches inside of you, the telltale sign that he’s close. You pull him in, wanting him pressed against you when he finally cums. He releases with a loud, guttural groan and a multitude of curses, his movements slowing as he gives a few more halfhearted pumps, emptying his spend. And then you both lay there for a moment, with his forehead resting against your sternum and you looking up at the ceiling, neither able to move nor wanting to.

You’re in a state of disbelief that that actually happened, that you just had the best sex of your life with your old childhood best friend who you had still hated earlier this same afternoon. On Christmas Eve no fucking less. You can’t say you regret it at all.

You’re tugged from your thoughts when Kylo moves. You wince as he begins to pull out, your cunt unbearably sensitive from two powerful orgasms and a very thorough fucking. He flops down next to you, bringing you into his side before throwing an arm over his eyes, trying to catch his breath. You’re both exhausted, but you both couldn’t be happier.

It takes him a few minutes before he’s finally able to take off the condom, tie it, and toss it into a garbage bin near the bed. You lay there as your sweat and shared arousal cools, as your breathing calms, as you just enjoy each other’s presence. You wish you could fall asleep like that, but all the drying liquids on you is making your skin itch and you need some proper clothes so you don’t freeze.

Kylo seems to be on the same wavelength, because he sits up with a groan and pushes his sweat soaked hair out of his face. “Shower?”

You can’t help your gentle smile. “Yes please.”

He kisses you before swinging over the side of the bed and standing, holding out a hand to you and helping you up as well. Your legs shake uneasily and everything already feels sore, but Kylo is there to support you on the way to the bathroom. The bright lights burn your eyes, making you grunt and squint when he turns them on. You stand there holding yourself for warmth as he gets the shower on, holding his hand under the stream until the water finally gets hot.

“I’ll join you in a minute. I’m going to change the sheets.” He says, kissing you on your hairline before he leaves.

You don’t hesitate on that, quickly using the bathroom first before getting under the blissfully hot water. You hum as it runs over your hair and skin, already making you feel significantly better. You just let it wash over you for a minute before deciding to get the soap, grabbing one of Kylo’s manly smelling shampoos and beginning to dig it into your scalp. You were just about to get the body wash before he finally joins you, his shower more than big enough for the two of you.

“Hey.” You say with another little smile.

“Hi.” He replies, a small tilt to the corner of his mouth. It shows one his dimples and you decide it’s one of your new favorite things.

You smack his hand away when he’s about to reach for the shampoo and he looks at you curiously while you squirt some in your hands. You reach up to run your fingers through his hair and smile wider when his eyes close in satisfaction; it reminds you of a cat. You help each other wash your bodies of all the grime, standing under that hot water until it starts to go cold.

Stepping out of the shower, you feel more relaxed than you have in a while and also incredibly sleepy. Kylo wraps a fluffy black towel around you. “I put some clothes on the bed for you.” He says, wrapping his own towel around himself.

“Mkay, thanks.” You mumble tiredly, your eyes squinted against the light once more. You shuffle back into his bedroom, his sheets replaced with ones that look identical but just without a big wet spot on them. There’s a folded t-shirt, sweats, and boxers on the end so you quickly pull them on. They’re big on you since they’re Kylo’s, but you don’t mind—they’re comfortable and smell like him.

You decide to get in bed while you wait for him since he went downstairs to turn off all the lights and music, and you find it feels like you laid on a pile of clouds. Compared to your lumpy, shitty old mattress at the apartment, Kylo’s mattress feels like literal heaven. That mixed with the fresh, comfy sheets and blankets… you could stay here for the rest of your life. You curl up and pull the blankets around you, humming to yourself in satisfaction.

Kylo finally comes back upstairs just as you were about to doze off, plopping something on the bed and disturbing you. “What the-“ You begin to say before BB is nuzzling into your face. You smile, scratching the kitten behind the ears the way he likes and making him purr. “Hey buddy.”

“He was in the Christmas tree.” Kylo says, pulling the covers back to join you in bed.

“That’s not surprising.” You reply. BB has always liked to explore everything he can. Though it seems right now he shares your sleepiness because he walks over you in order to curl up by your head on your pillow.

Kylo wraps a strong arm around you and pulls you in, your head resting nicely against his chest, just under his chin. You drape your own arm across his ribs, his warm body beneath you a solid comfort.

He lets out a relaxed sigh, tickling the hair on top of your head. “Stay with me until Chief gets back.”

“Planned on it.” You manage to say despite being half asleep already. The last thing you wanted after tonight was to go back to that cold, miserable apartment where you’d be by yourself for another two weeks.

His grip on you tightens for a second. “Good. I’ll take you by the apartment tomorrow to get your things.”

“Sssounds good.” You mutter, words slurring together. You can feel Kylo’s light chuckle before there’s a kiss placed on your head.

Falling asleep with Kylo holding you and BB next to you, in a big soft bed, warm and perfectly content for the first time in a while, makes it feel like a Christmas wish you didn’t even know you had finally came true.

[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.

[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. 

[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.”

[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 !

[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.

[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

[regrettablewritings]

Hi!😁 I'll give you another ship with my dear Lucifer morningstar from Lucifer cuz as it turns out I'm a hoe for a lot of characters but what can ya do? Thank you!

Aw hell yii, somebody's talkin' my lingo! 😎

Who the fuck put the Peeps in the microwave?: Lucifer. And no, it's not because he actually likes them or is curious about what would happen; he's seen plenty of Youtube videos enough to know exactly what happens. No . . . It's far more malicious . . . Generally speaking, you don't like the constant comparison of cats to the devil. But after getting to actually meet The Devil, you think that those believers might be on to something. Lucifer's whorey ways bleeds into his need for attention like red bleeds into white in the wash, and he's completely shameless about it. For example, if he feels like you may be focusing too much on work or, gasp, other people besides him, you run the risk of encountering a very . . . mischievous Luci. Not that he's not already a prankster, but he somehow becomes a bit more childish. Catlike in some respects. He puts your mugs up higher than what you can normally reach without having to climb on the countertop. He joins you at your kitchen table while you're reading over files for work and puts on his most angelic face, insisting he just wants to keep you company and will be as quiet as vermin in Dear Old Dad's house . . . then proceed to obnoxiously click a pen while pretending to solve a word problem, or eat cheese puffs obnoxiously loud. And then . . . the Peeps: The absolute prettyboy bastard used your microwave as a casualty of war, plopping the unplated, mutant-colored marshmallows directly on the glass and letting them go. To be fair, it technically didn't ruin anything. But at least he had your attention now -- because after fussing at him for making a mess, you were currently supervising him scrubbing not only the effected areas of the glass dish, but the rest of the microwave as well. Unfortunately, you can't say a lesson was really learned because now Luci knows that if he wants to get a rise out of you, what he needs is a bunch of candies from the bargain bin.

Who forgot to put the cat out before sex?: It's not that either of you forgot the cat was there -- it was that Lucifer wanted the bloody animal to give the both of you some privacy. And because Lucifer forgot the cat was there. He was simply too busy embracing you in a liplock and laying you down on the couch to notice the glaring eyes of the cat you had rescued from the shelter. Thankfully, you two didn't get very far before the lovingly-named Lucipurr released a meow, indicating that he had become flesh and bone in the few hours it had been since you'd last fed him. Suffice to say, after a startled Lucifer flung himself off of you and onto the floor, nearly breaking his ass on the coffee table (and the laughing fit that had induced on your end), the mood was killed. For the next fifteen minutes, that is. The next time he tried anything, Lucifer made sure that his efforts would be continued in the bedroom (but not before he did a complete check of every nook and cranny in there to make sure the furry bastard wasn't trying anything).

Who posts Vines/TikToks of the other doing embarrassing shit?: Lucifer absolutely lacks boundaries. The moment he discovered smartphones, social media, and all their potential, he was all in and recording as many videos of friends and coworkers as he could in as many awkward or unideal situations as they came. You felt bad for Dan being his constant target, but you were somewhat sure that Dan felt bad for you in a way: After all, you were dating the freaking guy and yet Lucifer had few qualms about posting a video of you, drunkenly singing karaoke in what was supposed to be a private room? Harsh.

Who breaks the most phones?: Lucifer does. He's not necessarily careless, but his part-time occupation does lead him to circumstances that tend to put his phone in danger. You, Chloe, Dan, literally everyone has told him to just leave his phone in the car if he's going to get it broken that often while on the job, but the dumbass never learns. Not that he really seems to care all that much: With his wealth, he can always buy a new one. Though, the only times he gets frustrated is when photos or videos don't quite make it to the transfer and things get lost along the way. Funny photos, suggestive videos, photos and videos of you . . . Photos and videos of you being funny or suggestive . . . Downright pornographic videos he had recorded of you -- Though don't worry: He's sure you'll be more than happy to help recreate the latter. He'd gladly help you . . .

Who dies first?: It should go without saying. It really should. But that doesn't make it hurt any less. Lucifer was always one to get caught up in his indulgences, after all: Somewhere along the way, he must've gotten too swept up in the thrill, the feeling of adoration. He tells himself this but it's really just denial. Closer to the truth is that it all really was just denial: He denied the idea that you would ever leave him, that you would ever die. Luci was never good with his own thoughts and feelings, but the way you made him feel was nearly enough to convince him that, in some way, you would just plain live forever. But of course, this was not the case: It didn't matter that you were fantastical enough to love and be loved by the Devil; you were still very much a human. Very much mortal. So susceptible to things like time and illness and injury. Lucifer was the King of Indulgences. It was extremely rare for him to experience regret. But when your time inevitably ran out, remorse filled him like smoke filled his lungs with every cigarette he ran through from the moment your funeral arrangements were decided. He could never regret knowing you, as much as part of him thought doing so would spare him this pain. He tried to think of how much better he might've been had he never met you, and it always felt like he was stuck in his own personal Hell Loop with everything going wrong over and over no matter how hard he tried to change it. He regretted that for as much time as he lived up with you, he felt like he didn't use nearly enough of that time to just . . . enjoy you. You in your mortality, your fleeting beauty and love that would nonetheless haunt him for however long he might go on for. So maybe . . . for eternity? This didn't feel like his own personal Hell Loop: This was his own personal Hell Loop. And until he learned to forgive himself, it would never end. So he'd be stuck here for maybe . . . eternity.

Which one I could see as being lactose intolerant: Neither. Unless they get brought down to mortal enough, Celestials generally don't suffer ailments, let alone from things like food allergies.

Who thinks they can do something really well even though they can't?: Lucifer . . . It's not that he's not smart. But by Dad, he is lacking in so much self-awareness that it can be maddening. He thinks he's pretty good at following Dr. Linda's advice (and, to an extent, he's progressing). But the fact of the matter is, he's incredibly troubling at best. Not nearly as bad as some patients, mind you, but when Linda admitted to you that one or two sessions of Lucifer completely misinterpreting her advice nearly drove her to consider adding a secret bar into her desk, you believed her and didn't blame her for one bit.

Who is more likely to get kicked out of bed?: Lucifer is a changed devil. But it's a very slow change. You're more than happy to understand and accept this, but that doesn't mean you have to let him and his issues walk all over you. Sometimes, the big dummy just says or does things without thinking -- or because he thought too hard and thought this was the best decision to avoid further strife. And you try to be patient with him about these tendencies, you really do. But that doesn’t erase your ability to be upset by these habits, or your right to be. And no amount of him buttering you up is going to be acceptable, even when he comes by your place, armed with a dish he so thoughtfully prepared for you. Nope, he can literally go to Hell with that (really, you’re sure the demons there would appreciate a nice beef wellington); you just need some space. Ironically, this may create a cycle wherein his need to make you happy again and have your attention on him drives him to constantly hover around you and attempt to win you over, which in turn just further frustrates you. It’ll likely keep going until you either snap or a loved one pulls Luci to the side and gives him a heads up that maybe he should respect your boundaries. After all, intention isn’t the problem here: It’s the actions taken. And as much as it hurts him knowing that he accidentally hurt you, he has to respect your need for time to cool off. He forces himself to go back to his place and tries to think less about how he feels and more about how you might feel, and try to work out ways to avoid similar incidents in the future. And even though the conclusions he comes to may not be perfect, you at least respect the effort -- particularly when he next sees you, no longer armed with snacks from your favorite bakery or bouquet-carrying teddy bears. Instead, all he has is an apology. It’s sheepish, and it feels foreign to someone who rarely experiences shame or regret, but you know his whole heart is in it even if he himself doesn’t understand entirely why that is. Which is good because that’s just part one of the process; part two involves him warming up that spot in your bed that’s reserved for him!

Who uses the computer the most?: You, absolutely. Lucifer's adorably but altogether completely crap when it comes to technology. Besides, he can easily find other things with which to amuse himself, and doing the paperwork is for other people anyway.

Thank you sooooo much for participating again!!! It really means a lot!!! ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

[the-witches-you-couldnt-burn]

It started with a whisper

I originally wrote ‘Like I did with you’ as a one-shot but people wanted a sequel. This turned out to be waaaaay longer than expected (4.7k word count). Inspired by Everybody Talks by Neon Trees. I hope you lot enjoy!

Ao3

(Also this is Mari’s new outfit, all credits go to the original artist)

————

Two teens stood upon the balcony of a large banquet hall, exposed to the midsummer night air. The sky was a lilac blanket that hung over the Parisian buildings, speckled with glowing stars. The moon, with it’s crescent smile, beamed down of the young couple.

Hey, baby, won't you look my way?

Marinette’s eyes were closed as she rested her head upon his shoulder, relaxing after the night’s rapid escalation. Tonight she had arrived at the ball with the intent to be there for her friends, but somehow she found herself within the arms of Gotham’s (and probably Paris’) Ice Prince. She had overheard his nickname from the Gotham students, one of which being Jon, who was in the middle of mocking the young Wayne. She had never considered that nickname as suitable; sure he was temperamental & had a tendency to snap, but icey to the core? No.

I can be your new addiction

Damian was calm. For the first time in his life he felt like he could take a breath. His exhale was carried off by a small gust of wind, the bush over hanging the stone railing rustled. With his inhale, the scent of Marinette’s perfume became present once more. Mixed with the crisp night’s air, her usual scent of pastries was mixed with what could only be described as ambrosia. His phone vibrated within his pocket, it was never on volume due to the potential risk it caused during his heroic activities.

“Shit.” Notifications covered his screen, multiple tweets, Instagrams and Tiktoks in which he had been tagged in. But the alert came from his family’s private messaging chat. The whole thread was a shit storm, Grayson and Todd’s messages were completely capitalised (he learnt years ago this meant ‘to yell’ in writing form) and both had multiple ‘keyboard spasms’. Drake, like the thorough detective he is, had combed through the images and videos, investigating their validity. His honorary sisters had replied with ‘awwwww’(s) and ‘Omg we MUST meet this girl! I need to know how she tamed the demon!’. He could practically hear Brown’s shrill voice from across the ocean.

Hey, baby, what you gotta say?

No reply from his father or Alfred. The two of them were the only semblance of ‘normal’ paternal figures he had within his life, after the sham of a relationship he had previously held with his grandfather. Their silence unnerved him.

Marinette had noticed his attention had shifted to his phone, her own mobile was buzzing away within her baby pink purse. Messages, notifications of account tagging and comments galore. A sigh left her lips when she saw her parents seemed to be none the wiser. Good, she didn’t need to deal with future adoration for ‘The boy who swept our daughter off of her feet’ (or something along those lines).

Her cheeks regained some of the warmth they held before as she thought of her parent’s reaction. Scrolling through her Twitter she saw her friends had posted multiple images of the night’s events, majority being her shared dance.

Chloé Bourgeois @TheBestBourgeois

what kind of Disney shit is this? (Insert video of two teens dancing around an mostly empty dance floor.)

Alix Kubdel @Sk8trGirl

Replying to @TheBestBourgeois

I KNOW RIGHT?! THEY WERE FUCKING FLOATING!!!

All you're giving me is fiction

She was thankful that they hadn’t tagged her but she hadn’t been spared by others in attendance. Her post thread had blown up, thousands had commented and even more had viewed the evidence. There was no way she would come out of this unscathed.

“Has anyone been on Twitter today?” The blonde of the family asked as she walked into the dining room. Her eyes focused on her scrolling screen, brows furrowed in confusion. “Actually has anyone seen what’s happening on any of our socials?”

It was early in the afternoon and the family had recently returned home after a straining stakeout. The Joker had broken out of Arkham and the Batfam had to deal with his minions. Dick’s arm was in a sling (sprained from a grapple gone wrong), Jason was icing his hand, Alfred was stitching Bruce’s chest wounds while Tim and the girls escaped without severe injuries. All were still recuperating and finally able to recharge.

Alfred always enforced a strict ‘no devices at the dinner table’ rule; no matter how urgent it was, it could wait until after sustenance was consumed. Tim strongly opposed this, but there was no arguing with Agent A. This all surmises that probably no one had seen the crap storm on social media.

I'm a sorry sucker and this happens all the time

Bruce sighed, bringing his free arm up to rub his eyes. Tilting his head back to look at Steph, “Who was it this time?” Barbara quickly took out her phone to see what Stephanie was talking about, all the while glancing accusingly at Dick and Jason. Both of whom held up their arms (or in Dick’s case arm), declaring their innocence.

“It wasn’t fucking me!”

“Jason! Language!” Dick shot a glare at Jason and was met with one in return. “It wasn’t me either.”

“Then who-“ Bruce started before being cut off by his most rambunctious daughter.

I found out that everybody talks

Stephanie with a squeal, exclaimed that it was Damian. Visions of what the Wayne brat could have done flashed through the heads of everyone in the room. He had been sent overseas before the quarantines and lockdowns hit. During Damian’s first month in France he had been forced into online schooling and then finally when he got to go to in-person classes he hated it. Described the class as a kindergarten with petty and vindictive toddlers.

Had he broken someone’s arm? Was that person of such importance that it had spread over multiple social media platforms? France’s government had announced on June 15th, that teens were now being inoculated so him having COVID-19 was doubtful. Had he insulted the wrong person? Had he taken over the government? He certainly had the potential.

Everybody talks, everybody talks

What they saw stunned them, even Steph as she watched it for the 7th time. Damian Wayne was dancing. But not only that, he was dancing with a girl.

It started with a whisper

“What is this shit?”

No one verbally objected to Jason’s outburst but he was sent a harsh glare from Alfred, Dick and Bruce. Their focus soon returned to the images and videos before them. Babs’ and Steph’s phones were returned to them as the others ran to grab their own devices. They all met back at the table, comparing the posts and comparing their notes.

I can hear the chitchat

“There’s no way this can be real.”

“Jesus Tim,” Barbara rolls her eyes, “have you seen the amount of posts there are? You’d be an idiot to think otherwise.”

Take me to your love shack

“I’m with Tim, how do we know this isn’t some skit. I mean, Demon Spawn almost looks normal. That’s a matter of concern.” He almost dry heaved when he agreed with Tim. Damian couldn’t be capable of naturally exuding that amount of humanity unless there was something in it for him.

Mamas always gotta backtrack

“I was just saying Babs, that we should check the credibility of these images. For all we know they could be gorilla glued together and trying to get unstuck.” Tim cringed at his own reasoning, he really needed to either sleep (probably not going to happen anytime soon) or find his favourite coffee brand (which had been one of the first to vanish after the covid hoarders appeared).

When everybody talks back

Dick was too busy freaking out and spam messaging the youngest Wayne, to defend Damian’s humanity. The family saw this and followed suit, wanting to get information from the source.

Chat name: Alfred supremacy

BigBird: AHHHHHH DAMIAN!

BigBird: YOU LOOK SO CUTE!!!

BigBird: HAIFJDNDNFI

LittleWing: WTF HAPPENED DEMON SPAWN YOU LOOK ALMOST HUMAN

Babs: who knew the city of love would influence the brat

Blondie: they are so cuteeeeeee!

Blondie: We HAVE to meet her!

Silent-but-deadly: agreed.

Timbo: YO DEMON

Timbo: Apparently the videos are legit

Timbo: are you being blackmailed?

And it just devolved into more chaos from there, fueled by the fact that they saw Damian’s ‘Blood Son’ account appear online before vanishing once more. Dick shrieked, “I FOUND HER ACCOUNT!”

The family gathered around the eldest son, peering over his shoulder to view his iPhone 12max screen. They saw a young girl’s Instagram account. It was locked but they could see her profile pic, the girl had black hair and looked to be if Asian decent. They compared it to the videos but it was hard to see due to the hall’s lighting and the minimised facial features of the pfp. Alfred suggested that they search up her username and see who has tagged her, some might have other photos of her.

After research for awhile, the family began to get frustrated with lack of results.

Hey honey you could be my drug

You could be my new prescription

“Come on!” Jason complained, “What kind of teenage girl doesn’t post her life online?” He ignored the girls glares and went back to researching. How had the account by the name of ‘mariiiiinette’ to managed to prevent the entire Wayne clan from accessing it? Damn Instagram privacy settings. He groaned, dragging a hand down his face, “We are fucking stupid. Why don’t we just use the Bat-computer? It would be so much fucking easier.”

“It shouldn’t be used for civilian issues-“

Too much could be an overdose

“The girl could be a meta for all we know! We aren’t safe until we know who she is.” Jason points a finger at Tim, his paranoia flared up and even though he would never admit it, Jason would do anything to protect each member of his family (although Bruce is still debatable).

All this trash talk make me itching

Barbara and Tim took their usual positions as Oracle and Red Robin (who had been banned from patrol due to lack of sleep). The rest of the Batfam stood behind them either with arms crossed or still failing at researching.

Oh my my shit

“The account is owned by a girl called Marinette Dupian-Cheng. She is French-Chinese and her parents own a popular bakery. Also if it wasn’t already obvious, she goes to Collège Françoise Dupont, aka Damian’s French school.” Tim begun informing his nosy family, “But this account has been inactive for the past 6 months, which is strange due to her frequent posting schedule before hand. It seems she probably has a second account and this is her old one.”

Everybody talks, everybody talks

“Not only that,” Barbara interrupted. “There are unopened messages from other accounts that accuse her of being a bully. There is a whole Facebook page about this girl and how she has been hurting her old friends, but neither side seems reliable. The so called victims seem to be twisting the truth but there is barely any information about Marinette so we can’t disprove it either.”

“Read out some of the messages.” Bruce took a cup of coffee from Alfred and sipped it.

The main screen of the bat computer displayed a Facebook group with the banner picture being a photo of Marinette. “They are mostly complaints expected of teen girls when there is a girl they don’t like; ‘Marinette is such a know-it-all’, ‘She is constantly insulting Lila’s intelligence’. They go on to talk about how Marinette was briefly expelled from the Collège before being reinstated by the principle for a reason unknown to them.”

Everybody talks too much

“Her school reports up until this year were good. The newest one states, ‘While Marinette is a wonderful and bright student, I encourage her to settle her disagreements outside of class. This seems to only be a recent occurrence and I implore her to go to the guidance council if she is in need of help.’” A beat of silence echoes through the cave, Tim sighed. “Jason’s meta theory could be correct. She could have just recently started exhibiting her abilities and using them to get what she wants.”

“Bruce what do you want to do?”

“We’re going to Paris.”

She opened her eyes to the blaring morning light that streamed through the blinds. Her lashes still painted with mascara that refused to leave. She felt a pang of sorrow when she was removing her makeup and dress last night, she never wanted the night to end. She shuffled down the stairs to the kitchen, covering her mouth when she yawned. She greeted her mother as she entered the kitchen to get breakfast.

She glanced at her phone and there was the chaos that was started hours ago and it was still occurring. It was the weekend, she wouldn’t need to deal with her classmates until Monday. But she would still have to survive her parent’s interrogation. Out of the corner of her eye she caught her mother smirking at her.

Everybody talks

“Nadja told me some interesting news about last night.” Marinette held her breath, glaring at the toaster, willing it to hurry up so she could escape. “Well,” Sabine patted her shoulder before rubbing Mari’s back. “I know you didn’t want to go but I hope you had fun.”

With that she exited the kitchen, probably going to help her father in the bakery. The ravenette stared after her, eye widened in shock, jumping when the toaster went off. Buttering her toast she went over the conversation, her brows furrowed in confusion. She had expected a ‘When do I get to meet the oh so famous prince?’ or ‘Should I be expecting a new guest sometime in the near future?’ or at least a ‘Who was that young man, Bǎozàng (宝藏 it means treasure)?’ But she said nothing.

A small smile was plastered upon her face as she changed and went down to help her parents in the bakery. Her father didn’t say anything either, he gave her a knowing smile before continuing to kneed the dough. She sat at the the store front as the cashier whilst her parents were busy making ‘Paris’s Finest Pastries’.

Her musings slowly faded as she was brought back to reality by badly hushed whispers. Two young preteens were by the bread roll casing near the door. She had seen them come in before with their parents, the girls went to the prestigious international school over in the 16th arrondissement. The one with purple hair kept whispering to the brunette, both ‘subtly’ glancing towards her. Using her enhanced hearing she listened in on their conversation.

“That’s her, I swear that’s her in the video.”

The blonde’s face soured likes she sucked on a lemon. “No, it wasn’t good lighting there is no way he would dance with someone like her.”

Everybody talks

Marinette had tough skin but their words had an impact, only a small one due to her defence mechanism of repressing emotions. She stopped listening and went back to drawing in her sketchpad, she was in desperate need of a new school outfit.

The two girls eventually came up to the counter, goods in hand. Marinette rung up and bagged their items (paper because save the turtles sksksk) in a tired daze. A phone was shoved into her face, her eyes barely adjusted to view the screen before the blonde spoke.

“Is this your instagram?” She asked in a tone so snobbish that it should be illegal from a person her age. Marinette finally was able to view the screen that was barely an inch from her face. Her old Instagram ‘mariiiiinette’ was displayed on screen, she hesitantly nodded, gaze flicking back to the two in front of her.

The blonde’s nose scrunched up and the purple goth girl squealed in delight. They soon after left the store, their conversation had devolved into ‘See! I told you’ and ‘Yeah, yeah. You were right.’

Walking to school on Monday, she had finally come down from cloud nine. She still rode the tail end of her high as she rushed along her path to her campus, she wasn’t going to be late but she sure wasn’t going to be early. She had spent the better part of the weekend designing and sewing a brand new outfit. Her new look was composed of a black cropped singlet (L'amour gagne hemmed into it and it’s straps), paired matching peach plaid cropped overshirt and a-line miniskirt. Her hair was down, ballet flats were worn and her makeup was the usual with the added edition of a rose gold eyeshadow.

Even though her face was covered in a black and gold mask, she looked hot.

She reached the campus and the whispers started again, people were still buzzing from Friday night. Her classmates, the majority of her grade and the younger years seemed to gossiping before class about the formal’s events. She couldn’t spot any of her friends or the two Gotham transfers, so she was stuck listening the the chitchat. Why couldn’t she have been late like usual?

Damian had a fowl disposition and it showed in multiple icey glares (and that was before he even reached the collège). His family had made their appearance known in Paris at 1am Sunday morning. He could have used his dorm to escape but his family didn’t have the word ‘privacy’ within their vocabulary. He didn’t want to have to pay for a lock replacement due to his brothers’ (most likely Todd with Drake & Grayson laughing at him) lock picking habit.

The Ice Prince was back with full force. He had just been... influenced by all the other couples. Yes he did respect Dupain-Cheng and he appreciated her company & pleasant conversations. He would struggle to hide a small smile at the memory of the dance, even if he denied himself the happiness of normality, he felt content when reminiscing.

“Ooo the Ice Prince is here, did he have a fight with his princess or something?” The voice seemed to mock him.

“The Disney Magic is gone. The demon is back.”

Everybody talks

At the second jeer he shot a glare at the perpetrator. Jon held his hands up in an ‘I surrender manner’, laughing as he joined Damian at his side. The two entered the school’s large foyer and looked to see if any of the classes were open yet. Sadly they weren’t, before he was wrong and the his class was plain torture but this was truely hell.

He saw Dupain-Cheng sitting alone on the stairs, drawing within her sketchpad. He wondered how a girl like her, who always seemed to be involved in other’s lives (for the better) was ignoring all of the comments about her. She felt his focus centre on her, eyes flicking up to meet his, she provided him with a small wave before continuing to draw.

Jon nudged him with an elbow to his ribs and dragged him off to the side, into the boy’s locker rooms. Jon scowled at the door, “It’s a mad house out there. You’ve heard what some people are saying right?”

“Why would I care about these imbeciles?”

Jon jabbed Damian in the chest, causing the demon to stumble. Green eyes darted from blue eyes to the tan finger. “You care when lies hurt people you care about.”

The day began to rapidly decline once the two dance partners took their seats, next to each other. They had both been placed up the back of the class and them sitting together hadn’t been a problem until now apparently. She wasn’t even safe when the teacher started their lecture, whispers and glances were cast towards them. Once the two got to biology it was better, Ms Mendeleiev was a strict teacher and was able to control the class.

Everybody talks

But the recess came. When the bell rang she slowly started packing up her equipment, Alix and Max (who she shared biology with) waited for her; she watched as the Ice Prince left through the door. She knew she didn’t need to be concerned about her friends joining in with the gossiping, if anything they would dispel people and tell them to ‘Mind their own fucking business’ because this whole situations is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous.

She did receive some slight teasing from Alix about being a Disney princess, but Marinette quipped back about the skater’s fairytale story being ‘Pinknette, the Geek and the Beast’. The three met up with the other two of their group, they had just come from geography. Kim was complaining that Argentina was a state in America.

“That’s Arkansas you idiot!” Chloe shrieked, lightly hitting his arm with her white handbag. Max held his head in his hand as he approached, how had his tutoring sessions failed so badly?

Chloe turned to Marinette, a smile forming from her glare. The blonde examined the designer’s clothing, nodding. “You look like you are about to have a hot girl summer.”

Marinette’s face burned, the tips of her ears coated in red. Alix chuckled and nudged her shoulder.

Everybody talks

“Look at her, she is so desperate for his attention that she probably copied those designs.”

“Why do you think he danced with her anyways? Maybe she has something on him? I mean, she forces him to sit next to her in class, who knows what else she has done.”

What. The. Fuck.

Chloe glowered towards Lila’s posy. “We have a fucking seating plan, those cretins-“ She made a motion to storm over but was caught by the ravenette, looking back to Mari, her rage decreased from a boil to a simmer.

“No Chlo. It’s fine, it’s not worth it.”

Everybody talks... back

The group walked out to the school’s front steps, it was a mad house... a mad courtyard? Students sitting on the stairs, on the grass and standing around mingling, all of them now were staring at her. She held her backpack close to her chest (she had swapped her signature coin-bag purse for the pastel pink bag), pretending its a shield. Her friends circled around her becoming an obstacle to prevent their stares. If people were afraid of a scowling Kim then they don’t know the scorn of Chloe or Alix’s bite. And Max, sweet quiet Max.... you better hope he doesn’t have blackmail on you (he probably does), he can dismantle your life with a single anonymous post.

Rushed footsteps approached them. The group was broken apart by a rude Wayne boy, he swept Mari away from the school and the gossip crowds within. Her four friends shouted at him and he kept walking, shooting a glare at them in response. He kept pushing Marinette forward with a hand placed on the small of her back, her backpack was now swung over his other shoulder.

They ended up in her favourite alcove. She had brought him here with the other Gotham transfers for a native’s tour of Paris. It had always been her safe place to be creative.

It started with a whisper (everybody talks, everybody talks)

“My apologises for our rushed departure but you seemed to want to get out of their anyhow.” His gruff tone danced through the silence, his head still peaking around the corner; watching for any unwelcome guests.

“Thank you.” She whispered, her voice almost being carried off by the gentle wind. A genuine smile illustrated upon her face.

“We weren’t able to converse after the events of the other night. I would like to formally apologise once more for my actions causing this adverse reaction. If I had kn-“

“You don’t need to apologise!” She squeaked, hiding her eyes behind her fisted hand. Her shoulders curled inwards as she tried to make herself seem as small as possible, a side effect of her common use of her secondary miraculous form: Multimouse.

“I chose to dance with you, you don’t need to apologise for my own actions.” He stared at her with confusion. He had taken the blame so she wouldn’t need to do so herself; but she had taken it anyways. He had given her an out. Why does she always take the blame, even for things out of her control?

“But if I hadn’t danced with you then you wouldn’t have been the focus of the entire school.”

Marinette stepped forward, her eyes hardened and blazing. “Damian Friday night I went there out of obligation to my friends, I didn’t want to be there. But dancing with you? That was the highlight of my week, probably my month too. I enjoyed our time together.” Her face softened, lips twitched downwards ever so slightly. “I don’t regret anything about that night, but do you?”

He was bad at comfort. Everyone in his family avoided him when they were in need, he plainly didn’t know what to do. She wasn’t visibly upset but he sensed that she is disappointed that he apparently didn’t share the same opinion of the night. The only thing he regretted about that night was letting Jon call him a coward, but then again if he didn’t he never would have danced with Dupa- Marinette.

He picked up her clenched hand, the tension in her body alleviated at his embrace. He remembered how Grayson would apologise to Kor’i or how his father interacted with Ms Kyle. He brought their hands up and placed a kiss upon her knuckles.

And that was when I kissed her (everybody talks, everybody talks)

“I do not regret anything either—“ he cleared his throat, “In fact, I’d appreciate if we would be able to interact more, especially outside of that cesspit.”

Was he...?

It didn’t matter.

She smiled the same dazzling smile she gave him at the dance. She nodded while laughing, “I’d love that.”

Everybody talks

The two stay talking, hidden within their secret alcove for the rest of the day. She texted her parents to say she was with a friend and would be back later that night. Damian didn’t bother texting his family, Marinette knew he had to be back soon due to his dorm’s curfew.

The sun was setting at they walked back together, he did the gentlemanly thing and dropped her off at her bakery door. She could see her mother behind the register inconspicuously looking over at the two of them. Damian’s lips quirked upwards, she was satisfied with his kinda-smile.

He walked back, hands in pockets and a neutral expression upon his face instead of a scowl. He reached his door and took his keys, he found that it was already open. Damn.

His family was splayed out within his two roomed dorm. Todd and Drake were fighting over a place to sit on his bed, whilst his father sat at his desk, watching the commotion. The three of them turned to him as he enter the room, they were the only family members able to attend on short notice; Cain had a ballet audition, Gordon & Brown had concert tickets for tomorrow, Grayson had to take care of Mar’i while Kor’i was on Tamaran and Alfred stayed to ensure no one died during their night time activities.

“We need to talk Damian.” His father stood, leaning onto the desk chair. “The school called and said you had an unexcused absence for half the day. Where were you Damian?”

Damian stared into his father’s eyes. He was fifteen, almost an adult, but was treated like he was ten again.

“I was with a friend.”

“Probably the girl from the dance. Marinette, right?” Todd mocked him. Damian snapped his head in the direction of his bed, glaring at both his brothers.

“That’s what I want to talk about with you Damian. Now I don’t know her personally but from what we’ve discovered through our investigation we have some concerns. What’s happened Damian?”

The youngest Wayne’s glare shifted off of his brothers to the floor, and then finally to his father; his family sitting in wait for his answer. Straightening his posture, his shoulders clicked as he rolled then back. His statement’s tone was sure and steady, “Everybody talks father.”

Everybody talks... back