#that was before i had to pause for Health Reasons

[katemoneymartinsgf]

Paige x Sick Reader

a/n: I’ve been sitting on this for a minute, hope you guys like and let me know what you want maybe???

———

*Beep*

The FaceTime call ended, and you let out a soft sigh, staring at the screen where Paige’s smiling face had just disappeared. It was the fourth day of her trip, and she was finally coming back. You tried to act like everything was fine, but your body was telling a different story. You hadn’t felt this run-down in a while, but you didn’t want Paige to worry. Not with the massive game against USC and the weight of the loss to Notre Dame sitting heavy on her. She had enough on her plate without worrying about you.

“I’m fine,” you muttered to yourself as you laid back down, pulling the blanket up tighter. Just a little cold.

The next day, as promised, Paige was finally home . You could barely sleep, your body aching, feverish, and drained. But you couldn’t show her how bad it was—not when she was needed to be focused on the game ahead. You dragged yourself out of bed just as you heard a knock on your dorm door.

“Babe?” Paige’s voice rang out, tired but excited. You opened the door to find her standing there, holding a bouquet of flowers and a bag of Scandinavian Swimmers you always get from Trader Joe’s.

The moment you saw her, the guilt hit you hard. She looked so happy to be back, but you could tell she was physically drained. And yet, there she was, grinning at you like she hadn’t just played one of the most high-pressure games of the season.

“I thought these might cheer you up,” she said, stepping inside and handing you the flowers. “I could tell you weren’t feeling well.”

You forced a smile, but the effort made your head spin. “Thank you, my love. I appreciate it.”

She set the flowers down and immediately reached out to pull you into her arms, but you stepped back before she could get too close.

“I don’t want you to get sick,” you said quickly, your voice a little weaker than you intended. “You know Geno needs you at full health for USC, and I—”

Paige didn’t seem to care. “I don’t care about the game,” she said softly, pulling you back toward her. “I care about you.”

You shook your head, trying to distance yourself just a little more. “I know, but you need to focus on the game. You’ve been working so hard, and I don’t want to be the reason you can’t give it your all. Please don’t worry about me.”

Her brow furrowed, and you saw the hurt flash across her face. “You’re my priority,” she said, her voice thick with sincerity. Your heart immediately tightened. I love this woman so much, you thought to yourself.

“I’ve missed you so much, and all I want right now is to take care of you. I don’t care if I’m tired or if I have a game coming up. You’re here, and that’s all that matters to me.”

“I know, but...” You hesitated, the words not coming easily. “Please, Paige. I’m not trying to push you away. I just—I don’t want to risk you getting sick too. You have enough on your plate right now.”

There was a long pause before Paige sighed, her shoulders drooping slightly in defeat. “Okay. If you say so.”

The moment she pulled away, you regretted it. You could see the hurt in her eyes, the way she clenched her jaw to keep from saying anything.

“I’ll just... go play some Fortnite or something,” she muttered, turning toward the living room without another word.

You stood against the wall for a moment, the weight of what had just happened sinking in. You didn’t mean to hurt her. She just wanted to take care of you, and you had rejected her in the worst way possible. You hadn’t even stopped to think about how stressed and tired she was, and the guilt clawed at you.

After a few minutes, you heard the faint sound of a game starting in the other room. Paige’s voice came through the wall, distracted and low, but there was a sadness you couldn’t ignore.

You hesitated for a moment, then finally dragged yourself to the next room. You stood there for a few seconds, taking a deep breath before you walked slowly into the room. Paige was sitting on the couch, her eyes focused on the screen in front of her, but you could tell there was something more to her—something she was trying to hide.

“Paige?” you said softly, standing in the doorway.

She didn’t look up immediately, but you saw her shoulders tense. “Yeah?” she replied, her voice flat.

“Can you... turn it off for a second?” you asked, your voice gentle but full of regret.

Paige paused, her hand hovering over the controller. Then, she set it down and turned to face you. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and you could tell she’d been trying not to cry.

“You don’t have to pretend everything’s fine,” you whispered, walking over to her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you away. I was just trying to protect you, but I hurt you, didn’t I?”

She looked away for a moment, blinking rapidly as she fought back tears. “I just missed you,” she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Four days without you was hell. I didn’t want to be away from you, and when I finally get home, you won’t let me be close? I just wanted to hold you.”

You felt your heart break. She’s hurting and you are all she needs and you pushed her way. It had never been about not wanting to be close—it was about not wanting to risk her health before the biggest games of the season. But she didn’t understand that. She just missed you

“Paige,” you said softly, kneeling in front of her. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’ve missed you more than I can say, but I just... I can’t let you risk everything for me. Not when you’ve worked so hard to get here. I want you to be at your best for USC. I don’t want anything to keep you from playing your best on that court.”

She sniffed, wiping her eyes quickly. “l just missed you”

You took her hands gently in yours, looking up at her with soft eyes. You could see the sadness and anxiety clouding her beautiful blue eyes. She was holding herself together, but just barely.

“I love you. I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Paige let out a shaky breath and nodded, her lips curling into a faint, bittersweet smile. “I just want to be with you,” she said quietly, a tear finally slipping down her cheek as he head dropped

“I know, baby. I know,” you replied, pulling her into your arms. You held her tightly, feeling the tension between you both start to melt away.

Physically she was still tense, still trying to keep herself from breaking down. You gently massaged the back of her head, whispering soothing words into her ear.

“Hey, deep breath, love. It’s okay.”

You felt her inhale deeply, and then exhale, sinking into you as her sobs slowly started to fall.

The two of you sat there for a while, the world outside forgotten. When you pulled away, Paige’s eyes were softer, her smile more real, though there was still a touch of sadness lingering in them.

“I’m so sorry for pushing you away, P. I never meant to hurt you. I just want you to be at your best,” you said softly, your voice full of regret.

Paige looked up at you, her grip tightening at your waist. “I’m at my best when I’m with you,” she whispered, her hands pulling you even closer.

Your heart melted. You brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’ll never understand what I did to deserve you.”

She leaned in, kissing you softly, and for the first time since she’d been gone, you felt at peace. The weight of the world lifted, and you knew everything would be okay.

[slashersdaddy]

Hiii! How would slashers react if their usually soft s/o ask them to kill someone for whatever reason?

OOOOHH I LOVE this idea!! give me a sec to whip something up!! (Post production edit: I'm so sorry it took so long! I had a long spell of creative rut!)

VARIOUS SLASHERS WITH SOFT S/O ASKING THEIR PARTNER TO KILL SOMEONE FOR THEM!

Includes: Jason, Micheal, Vincent Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Bo Sinclair, bubba Sawyer, Thomas Hewitt, Charles Lee Ray, Freddy Krueger

AS ALWAYS MDNI! I AM AN 18+ PAGE! THANK YOU!

Jason Voorhees:

Jason was confused to say the least- you WANTED him to kill someone? What did that bastard do?

When you first come to Jason, your usually cheerful face set in grim determination, and almost resignation- he feared the worst, that you wanted to leave him.

But when you uttered the question, when you asked him to kill someone- his already dead heart felt like it may break again- what did they do? Why did you feel the need for him to kill them?

Does he need to make them suffer? How badly did they hurt you?

It may be overwhelming how many questions he asks (signs) you.

Of course in the end he will of course kill the person- if for nothing else than because he cares for you and your mental health.

He will set you up all cozy before he leaves to do the deed, leaving you with blankets and movies and hot cocoa.

Michael Myers:

No questions asked- he is out the door.

dont even expect to be able to explain WHY you want this guy/girl dead- he will already be grabbing his weapon and heading for the door.

Of course he will make it especially painful- they hurt his S/O after all.

But once its done, he'll slink home, wrapping his arms around you from behind and burying his face in your neck, still bloodied from the asshat who DARED make you upset.

And of course he would cuddle you close, silently holding you and stroking your tummy, low growls are expected if you try to get up at all.

he probably will keep you home for the next few weeks- for your 'protection'

and he does mean it!!!

he wants you safe!!

Even in his own fucked up way <3

Vincent Sinclair:

Vincent will pause- eyes scanning you- thinking perhaps it was a joke

you HAD to be joking right?

but when he realized you weren't his stomach turned-

what the hell had this bastard done? clearly he didn't DESERVE to be immortalized- so of course Vincent wouldn't use him at all in his art

rather making Lester 'dispose' of the body quietly

he would make it painful- violent; much more than usual

Once the deed is done he will coddle you, showing you little sculptures, or if you are interested in art- draw and paint with you, his watchful gaze never leaving you- you were his messiah, his god/dess you were his everything-

he would make sure you were safe.

even though he would usually leave this to his brother, it's personal now

Lester Sinclair

Now Lester, he's taken off gaurd by this request, you his sweet lil angel cakes are asking him to off someone?

But of course he won't tell you no.

He will make sure to get his Bowie knife all ready to 'take ojt the trash'

He will ask how painful it should to be

If your crying when you ask, even more reason for him to make that bastard suffer worse than they made you suffer.

Bo Sinclair

Bo doesn't ask anymore questions.

All he needs to know is when where and who.

Of course he will make it painful

And of course he will make the fucker suffer, maybe he will even remove a few fingers to torture them.

He wants his partner happy, so hearing you ask him to kill someone sent him off the fucking rails.

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba sees red

Why would you of all people want someone dead?

Unless they hurt you real bad.

That makes him really angry

He doesn't like the idea of you being hurt, let alone someone else hurting you so bad you don't want them alive anymore.

It will be painful

And slow

He knows how to kill fast, so it stands to reason if he doesn't hit vital points he can make them suffer longer

Thomas Hewitt

Tommy sees red, very similar to bubba

Except he will put on a full on manhunt for the fucker

Using more phycological methods first, stalking them like prey

Before snatching them up and ending them brutally

Charles Lee ray

An excuse to kill some sad mother fucker? Gladly.

But when he sees the tears in your eyes, the way you are shaking, it's personal.

It isn't any longer something to waste time.

This fucker hurt his partner.

This bastard dated touch what was his.

Honestly he will probably fillet the fucker

Freddy Krueger

He won't make it easy.

He will torment the bastard for weeks in their dreams before finally striking.

And of course he won't let you forget that you asked him to kill someone

Of course he is worried, he doesn't fully grasp what the sudden change was about, but he doesn't mind killing for you.

[kikyoupdates]

Love Bite ⭑˚🩸⭑ 𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒

yandere!vampires x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, original characters, vampire!ocs x fem!reader

Desperate for money to pay off your debts, you sign up for a program that allows you to sell your blood to vampires. At first, everything is fine, and you’re finally able to make ends meet. But they soon begin craving more than just your blood.

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It doesn’t hurt as much anymore.  

You let out a quiet sigh and lean your head further back. As always, Xavier is holding you close while he drinks your blood. You can feel his lips gently sucking on the surface of your skin, and there’s the dull discomfort of his fangs being lodged in your neck, but the pain is unmistakably less intense than before. You’re not sure if it’s because you’re starting to become a bit more accustomed to this whole thing, or if Xavier really is making an effort to be as gentle as possible, but either way, it’s far more manageable now. 

He even pulls away from time to time, just to make sure that you’re doing alright.  

“Still okay?” he affirms.  

You nod. “I’m fine, thank you. You can keep going until you’ve taken the usual amount.”  

Xavier pauses for a moment, and he doesn’t smile, not quite, but there’s a subtle warmth that fills his gaze, and for some reason, it puts you at ease.  

Yeah. This is what vampires should be like. That asshole Felix could really take a page out of Xavier’s book.  

You sit there for a while longer, waiting for Xavier to be done. You haven’t been feeling too lightheaded these days, so you figure the supplements you’ve been taking must have helped somewhat. So long as you don’t run into any other clients like Felix, who drink far more blood than the allotted amount, you’ll probably be fine.  

Xavier eventually pulls back for good, making sure to wipe his blood-stained lips with a napkin. You can appreciate how put-together he is, because seeing someone with your blood smeared across their face will never be a pretty sight. Although you suppose that’s another thing you’re slowly getting used to.  

“How are you feeling?” Xavier asks.  

“I’m good,” you reassure. “Don’t worry. If something was off, or if I was feeling unwell, I would make sure to let you know. I’m not reckless with my health.”  

Ha. Okay, that was a bit of a lie, considering you just landed yourself in the hospital not long ago, but in your defense, that wasn’t entirely your fault.  

Xavier seems relieved to know that you’re feeling alright, and normally, this is the part where he would get up to leave, but today, he opts to stay seated for longer.  

After a few moments of silent deliberation, he works up the nerve to ask:  

“Do you have any other clients besides me?”  

The question catches you off guard. For one thing, he doesn’t normally engage you in conversation, other than occasionally checking in to make sure you’re not feeling sick. Unless you’re mistaken, it’s the first time he’s asked you anything remotely resembling a personal question, even if it was simple intrigue on his part.  

Before you can respond, Xavier scrunches his brows together. “Um. Actually, forget what I just said. You don’t need to answer that. Now that I’ve stopped to think about it, it’s not really any of my business, and it was perhaps a bit inappropriate to ask.”  

He looks rather flustered all of a sudden, which amuses you, because he’s normally stoic and poised—almost to a fault.  

Well. In any case, you suppose you have nothing to hide.  

“I did have another client,” you admit. “But I had to drop him because he was making me uncomfortable. So, right now, you’re the only one I’m meeting with.”  

Xavier frowns. “I’m sorry to hear that. This arrangement only works if the client and donor respect one another, so it’s unfortunate that you had to have such an unpleasant experience.” After a brief pause, his eyes widen in concern. “I’m... not making you feel the same way, am I? Because if so, I urge you to be honest with me. The last thing I want is to upset you.”  

“That isn’t the case at all,” you assure him. “I enjoy meeting with you, Xavier. You’ve even gone to the trouble to make sure it doesn’t hurt me so much anymore, and I really appreciate it.”  

Unless you’re imagining it, he looks a bit pleased all of a sudden. Then again, it’s a bit hard to tell with him, since his expression reverts to a neutral state almost immediately.  

With your session having come to an end, he finally stands up to leave, but once again, he doesn’t walk out of the room right away.  

Instead, he glances back at you, looking a touch hesitant.  

“Have... a nice day,” he eventually settles upon. It comes out sounding a bit awkward, because quite frankly, he’s a bit awkward, but it’s the thought that counts, and you can’t help but smile. 

“Thanks!” you beam. “I hope you have a nice day as well.”  

This time, he actually leaves, swapping places with the doctor that comes in to examine you after every session. The doctor pulls the door shut to conduct the examination in private, but right before it closes, Xavier steals one last glance your way.  

You don’t see it, but there’s a smile on his lips. 

“Thanks for agreeing to come with me, [Name]! I’m so glad we finally have the chance to hang out like this.”  

You’re walking down the street with Caleb, having just finished washing dishes for several hours straight. He invited you to go someplace with him after your shifts were over, and usually, you’re so tired that you head straight home, or you book it to your other part-time job depending on what your schedule’s like, but for once, you finally have some free time.  

You wouldn’t normally have taken him up on his offer. Quite frankly, you’re usually way too fucking tired, and you don’t often have the time to spare. But ever since Caleb called you his friend, you’ve been trying to open up to him more. Life is one hell of a shitshow, at least for you, but friends are supposed to make it a bit more bearable. They’re supposed to help you smile and laugh, and find joy in the little things.  

Besides, Caleb is clearly a nice guy. He’s the kind of guy anyone would want as their friend. He’s one of the few good things that ever happened to you, and you’ve decided you’ll do everything you can to keep him around. 

“Thanks for inviting me,” you say, offering a brief smile. “I’m probably not that fun to be around since I just work all the time, but I’ll do my best not to bore you.”  

Caleb blinks repeatedly. “What? There’s no way you could ever bore me! I always have fun when I’m with you. Whenever I find out we have a shift together, I always get super pumped!”  

He flashes you a huge grin for added emphasis, and you giggle, very much amused by his golden retriever-type personality.  

As it turns out, the place Caleb wanted to bring you to is an arcade. You’ve never been anywhere like this before. Even as a child, your parents never took you. Well, you grew up poor, after all, and they were usually either gambling away whatever money they had or spending it on drugs and alcohol. Taking care of their daughter wasn’t exactly at the top of their priority list.  

You suppose there’s no point in lamenting the past, though. There’s no need to waste your time thinking about the selfish assholes who abandoned you, and besides, all that matters is that Caleb brought you here. You’d like to try enjoying the moment as best you can.  

Caleb leads you inside and buys enough tokens for the both of you. He insists that it’s the least he can do, since he’s the one that invited you out, and he reassures you that it isn’t that expensive either. Part of you feels guilty about not contributing, but the other part of you is secretly relieved that he offered to pay.  

He gives you a quick run-down of the place and shows you some of his favorite machines. He must come here pretty often, by the sounds of it. You can sort of understand why, though. The arcade is loud, equipped with colorful, vibrant lights, and everyone is clearly having a great time. You spot friends laughing as they beat each other at the games, parents that are cheering their children on, and even some people that have come alone, but are still enjoying themselves. 

“Look!” Caleb beams. “They have Mario Kart. Do you like Mario Kart?”  

“I’ve never played it before,” you admit.  

“What?! Seriously?”  

His eyes bulge out of his head, as if the very notion of such a thing is beyond his comprehension. You chuckle softly in response. Again, you grew up in poverty and had a remarkably shitty childhood, so... yeah. Video games weren’t really your biggest concern.  

“I’ll teach you how to play,” Caleb offers. He gently grabs your hand and leads you towards the machine. “It’s really simple, but it’s fun. Well, for the most part. It can also get kind of frustrating when people keep spamming shells at you.”  

You bite back a grin. You never expected him to be so passionate about video games. It’s kind of cute.  

To no one’s surprise, you’re not very good at Mario Kart. Or any of the other arcade games, for that matter. Your lack of experience is woefully apparent, and you may as well be an overgrown toddler, with how you keep clumsily mashing buttons all over the place.  

“I kind of suck at this,” you remark aloud.  

Caleb laughs. “It’s okay. People come here to play for fun. No one’s keeping track of how well you’re doing.”  

“But you’ve been winning so many more tickets than me.”  

“Well, that’s because I don’t suck,” he muses, winking at you.  

You huff. What a little show-off. Fine, then. You’ll take him up on his challenge. Practice makes perfect, after all. Besides, with all these different machines, you’re bound to find at least one game that you’re better than him at. Right?  

Wrong.  

“Oh my god!” you fume. “I’m tired of losing! Can't you go a bit easier on me?”  

Caleb clamps a palm over his mouth, clearly stifling the urge to laugh, although he’s not doing a very good job of it. “Th-That wouldn’t be fair to you,” he chuckles. “Would you be satisfied with a win if I just hand it to you?”  

“At this point, yes!”  

He fully laughs out loud this time. Meanwhile, you roll your eyes in frustration. Arcades are fun. They are fun, but still. You never imagined you would suck this bad.  

“Come on,” Caleb gestures. He’s composed himself and is back to smiling gently. “There are still a few machines we haven’t tried yet. Don’t give up hope. I’ve got a good feeling you’ll pull through in the end.” 

You cross your arms and stick up your nose, pretending to snub him. He doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, it just makes his smile widen, and his cheeks flush a beautifully pink shade. He doesn’t say it so that you don’t think he’s making fun of you, but you’re ridiculously adorable right now.  

You stop in front of a new machine. It’s some type of arcade fighting game, the kind where you have to pull off combos to win. You highly doubt you’ll stand a chance against someone as skilled as Caleb, but maybe you’ll get lucky by button-mashing enough. Or at the very least, you’ll be satisfied with not having him wipe the floor with you.  

But you suppose you’ll never find out, because someone decides to rudely cut in.  

“Move,” a deep, impatient voice mutters. “I was here first.”  

There’s a young man leaning against the side of the machine. You didn’t notice him at first because he was so quiet, but it looks like he also wants to play this game.  

“Oh. Sorry,” you mumble. “Go ahead. We’ll wait until you’re done.”  

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even nod in response. He just positions himself in front of the machine, then reaches down to load a few tokens in.  

But then, Caleb steps in front of him. 

“Come on, man,” he frowns. “We clearly got here before you. You’re just trying to cut ahead. We won’t be long, so can you just let us have this?”  

The man’s eyes narrow. “What the fuck? I was the one who got here first. You were just too blind to notice me.”  

“I don’t think so. It kind of sounds like you’re making things up.”  

“Caleb, it’s fine,” you insist, grabbing him by the hand and trying to pull him away. He’s probably right about the fact that the two of you beat the other guy to it, but arguing with him doesn’t seem worth the hassle.  

Caleb smiles reassuringly. “It’s okay. I’m not trying to pick a fight, but I just think people need to respect others and wait their turn. I promise we won’t take too long. I’ll probably beat [Name] right away.”  

“Hey!” you protest.  

He chuckles and pats your head, to which you ball up your fists and shake them in his face. You’re too immersed in your banter to realize that the other man is dead silent now, and his expression is darkening faster by the second.  

“I’m using this machine,” he mutters. “So, fuck off and get out of my way.” 

Caleb stops patting your head, and just like that, his smile drops. 

He’s glaring now.  

“Dude,” he scowls. “I was trying to be polite here. I don’t know why you’re getting so hostile, but we’re all grown-ups here. Let’s not do this. It’s clear that you’re not going to budge, so fine, you can use the machine first. But for the record, talking to people like that really isn’t cool—”  

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence. You can’t even process what’s happening in time. It all happens so fast.  

One second, Caleb is perfectly fine, but when you blink, he’s lying on the ground with a bloody nose.  

The man towers over Caleb’s fallen body. There’s blood on his knuckles, but instead of wiping it off, he brings it to his lips and swipes his tongue over the crimson fluid. You shrink back in horror, and suddenly, it makes sense why he was able to knock Caleb out so easily.  

“Tastes like ass,” the vampire grimaces. “Probably ‘cause of your shit personality. This is the problem with this fucking city. Dumbass humans think they can get away with disrespecting us.”  

The arcade is deathly silent now. Everyone has turned towards the source of the commotion, and rather than calling him out for his act of violence, they all shrink away out of fear. They’re clearly worried that if they so much as breathe wrong, he’ll come after them next.  

And honestly? You can’t blame them.  

Because you’re scared shitless too.  

“Ruined my fucking night,” the vampire hisses. He kicks the machine, and if it wasn’t screwed into the ground, you get the sense that it would have flown backwards and shattered into pieces.  

He shoves his hands in his pockets and walks off. Everyone steps aside in a hurry, desperate to stay out of his way. That was a public assault, and the police will probably have to be called, but the vampire doesn’t seem the slightest bit concerned. Almost as if he’s used to getting away with this kind of thing.  

Your muscles don’t unclench until you’ve affirmed that he’s left the arcade, and the moment he does, you drop to your knees and cry out.  

“Caleb! Are you alright?!”  

It’s rather ironic. Not long ago, he was the one in this position, fretting over your unconscious body when you blacked out at work. It doesn’t look like he’s unconscious, thankfully, but his nose is almost certainly broken, and you can only imagine how much pain he’s in—on top of being incredibly scared.  

“I-I’m fine,” he winces, slowly sitting up. “Shit... I wasn’t expecting... him to hit me.”  

You wrap your arm around his shoulders and swallow nervously. He wouldn’t have gotten hurt if you hadn’t come to the arcade with him. The one time you decide to let loose and do something fun, and it ends like this.  

“Someone needs to call the police,” you insist, addressing the crowd. “What just happened is a serious crime. He broke my friend’s nose!”  

Caleb keeps trying to reassure you that he’s going to be okay, but you’re not having it. Vampires are naturally stronger than humans, which means it’s their responsibility to hold back and exert restraint. They can’t just go around doing shit like this. It’s beyond fucked up.  

And yet, the longer you stare at the crowd, the more you start to realize that something’s not right.  

A man clears his throat. “Uh... you don’t know who that is, do you?”  

“Huh? What are you talking about?”  

“That vampire. He comes here pretty often, and a lot of us regulars know to keep our distance and avoid him.”  

So? What are they trying to say? Just because he’s known for being an asshole doesn’t mean that they should let this slide. If anything, it’s all the more reason to make him own up for what he’s done.  

“He attacked my friend,” you grimace. “For no reason.”  

“Yeah. I know, and it sucks. A lot of my friends have stopped coming to this arcade because of him. Because he’s such a loose cannon. But unfortunately, there’s nothing you can do about it. He’s untouchable.”  

You narrow your eyes, still not understanding what the fuck he’s on about.  

“That’s Kai,” the man finally says. “And... he’s the Police Commissioner’s adopted son.”  

Oh.  

You blink repeatedly.  

Oh.  

"Well, shit,” you mutter.

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[cozzzynook]

Spring/Aid Therapy AU continuation

On Rung’s advice and with Springer’s support, First Aid has a therapy session with Ratchet. They’ve barely settled in before First Aid is demanding to know about Ratchet’s cross faction affair with Deadlock.

Ratchet, already tired due to carrying again, answers that First Aid exists because he and Drift wound up hiding together from the Senate—Ratchet for his role in thwarting their bomb plot and Drift for assassinating a member. By the time Ratchet realized he was sparked, Drift had joined up with the Decepticons and Ratchet decided to raise First Aid on his own. Pharma got involved because he was trying to be a good friend.

They take a moment to pause. Pharma still haunts the both of them. Ratchet for losing a close friend and Aid losing a trusted mentor he’d once hoped was his secret sire. It’s why when Ratchet broke the news to him about Deadlock, when they all thought he’d died, First Aid chose to follow Pharma to Delphi over following Ratchet to earth.

First Aid tries to get out his next big question but can’t. Rung asks the question for him.

“Ratchet, your first carriage wasn’t planned. First Aid would like to know if your current carriage is.”

“What? No! I didn’t even think it was a possibility, Drift and I aren’t as young as we used to be.” Then it clicks in Ratchet’s mind. “Aid, is that why you’ve been so distant?”

First Aid nods his head.

“Aid…” First Aid doesn’t know what upsets him more, the fact that his carrier looks so crestfallen or the heartbreak in his voice. “You know we’re not trying to replace you right?”

First Aid ex-vents the breath he’d been holding. “Why then? Why keep the sparkling? You said so yourself you’re not young anymore. You’re risking your health doing this.”

He and Rung had made the breakthrough the other day, when Rung asked him if Ratchet was the type of mech who would replace his own sparkling. That’s when Aid knew his bigger, deeper reason for why Ratchet carrying again upset him so much.

“You’re right.” Ratchet admitted. “I am. Carrying always has its risks. But it’s worth it. You were worth it.”

I changed my mind *sheds tears*

I choose you pikachu!!!! *bawls*

( i love this )

First aid thought he was a mistake that was replaceable 😭 how dare you ( i love this so much seriously, right in the feels i love it!!)

[zeawesomebirdie]

Oh my god okay hi i havent been online bc ive been reading On Writing by Stephen King and omg okay, i feel so much better about my drafts now

[loverboybrightsideghost]

they should invent a me that's good at everything i want to be good at. [thing from the addams family pokes out of a nearby box and hands me a piece of paper] thank you, thing. what's this...oh! why, it's a paper that says i have to be the one to do that for my future self! huh.

[fatuismooches]

Dottore and his segments get a taste of their own medicine after giving you a job of your own. (In other words, you ignore their need for attention in favor of your work, they get pouty, just like you did.)

As of late, a peculiar sight had made its way into the lab. Actually, peculiar wasn't even strong enough of a word for the agents to use. They had nearly tripped over their feet once they saw the new area of their working quarters in the lab.

In addition to their Lord Harbinger's desk (that was shared amongst the segments depending on the day), there was now another desk on the opposite side of the room, and the cute decorations on it were quite noticeable. Photo frames and stationery. A comfortable and plush chair with a blanket that dropped over it.

... A plushie version of the Harbinger that laid on Dottore's desk, commissioned by you to motivate him.

(A side thought - the number of desks the Doctor had was something to wonder about. One in the lab, one in the office, one in the bedroom - no wonder things were always scattered around the place. But that was something for another day...)

And most importantly, you, Dottore's spouse, standing next to their Lord, rocking back on your heels nervously as he introduced you as their new co-worker.

—

It all began when you approached your husband with a very simple request.

"Dottie, I want a job!" You said with enthusiasm, smile as wide and proud as ever. The scientist paused his work and turned to look at you with a blank expression.

"... A job, you say?" You only puffed your chest out more at his confirmation.

"Yes, a job. I mean, being your lover is already a lot of work for my poor back, but I want to actually work with you! With your research and stuff, like the old days!" Your excitement was completely serious and were it not for your health, it would have been infectious for the scholar. Rarely did he ever meet anyone who was truly interested in his work. But of course, certain restrictions have held you back for a long time now.

"We've already been over this. My work is too dangerous for you," the Doctor sighed as he turned back around to continue whatever he was doing.

"I know, I know, but I meant other kinds of stuff. I've been thinking like... a desk job! It doesn't have to be anything dangerous! I could... sort papers for you? Oh, and you have one of those fancy stamps, right? I could stamp them too! I could rewrite your notes... ah, and the best part - I could help you write reports too! You always liked my essays, didn't you?" You were doing your best to provide Dottore with a convincing case, snuggling up against his firm back. Only another sigh escaped your husband, not really that convinced.

"Come on..." you inhaled his familiar scent, tinged with that laboratory smell that never seemed to go away, but somehow brought comfort to you. "I've been so bored lately... and lonely," you muttered the last part pointedly. "I just want some work to take my mind off things!"

Indeed, there was always limited entertainment and pastimes to occupy yourself with. It was especially boring on days you couldn't get out of bed, or when no segment could afford you attention...

"And you know what, I could give those agents of yours some writing tips, too!"

Yes, there had been many times his employees were not up to his standards, despite how many of them fawned over him (for some odd reason)...

"And I'll be helping you too! It's good for everyone."

Of course, you always felt rather good about yourself if you managed to help him, being the Second Harbinger and all...

"I suppose I shall give it some thought-" Before the man could finish his sentence you started squeezing him tightly while hopping in delight.

"Oh, thank you! So, when do I start? Do I get one of your huge desks too?"

"I didn't say yes yet, darling."

"Shh... we both know what you mean!"

—

And that was how you now clocked in at "work" every day with the agents (later than normal, but you had special privileges.) It was daunting at first for the poor souls, even the ones who secretly admired you from afar (being in the fan club and all.) Even though initially you were merely sorting papers, you were the most important person in that room.

However, soon enough, going to work in this dreary lab became a lot more cheery thanks to your sweet demeanor. Somehow, the atmosphere had become a lot less tense since the last time the segments visited.

The agents had little to no problem speaking to you like a normal person, after you had graciously given them tips on impressing the Harbinger.

"Psst..." you were hovering behind an unsuspecting agent, reading the report she had for Dottore, who jumped at your whisper. "You know, he might click his tongue if you give him that." Although her mask covered her face, you could see that half surprised at how you popped out of nowhere, and half agreeing with your words. Perhaps she felt comfortable enough to spill the situation to you.

"I-I am well aware of that," she deeply sighed, "but no matter what I write, my Lord always seems to be unsatisfied..." You patted her shoulder in sympathy. Having worked with Dottore since the Akademiya days, you knew very well of his distaste for certain things.

"Well, that's why I was hired, friend! To make his and your life easier! See, look here, that's a no-no, he wouldn't appreciate those details, mhm, but this needs to be elaborated on more, uh huh..." Of course, being the good spouse and employee you were, the report was converted into the best one that had ever landed on the Doctor's desk.

On your lunch break, they provided you with some juicy gossip about anything they could get their hands on (the fan club had long reaches, apparently.) Frequently you had to debunk things about Dottore... (the handbook was swiftly revised.)

Needless to say, things seemed to be going well. You looked happier. Motivated. Having new "friends" as your company (that still watched their mouth around you after a single glance from the segments.)

However... an issue arose after a while. One that seemed entirely stupid and impossible.

Now that you were so caught up in your work, when the segments finally had some spare time to come to you, they were... rejected. Yes, they had come to you, fully expecting your devoted attention and kisses that you always gave them without hesitation, but now turned away. (Even more embarrassing, sometimes in front of the agents who kept their eyes glued to their strange chemicals.)

—

It was Omega, of all segments, who was turned away first. The most confident and charming of the bunch left uncharacteristically silent. He had come up behind you and traced his hands against your neck, always being the one who had no shame in touching you. You only softly giggled at the sensation and caught his hand in yours.

"It seems you've been busy for a while, dear." In truth, it was mostly you seeking him out and not vice versa, but the segment hadn't seen you invading his office in a while. The space had gotten too quiet without you.

"Mhm! But I can't imagine how much work you do. My desk is nowhere as cluttered as yours," you smiled as you felt the segment kiss your lashes.

"What do you say to a break with me?" Omega offered, already knowing what your eager response would be.

"Nah, I can't right now."

...

Your words took a few seconds to process through his head.

"Pardon?"

"I have all this work, 'Mega, and other people need my help," you shrugged your shoulders as you swung your legs. "But don't worry. I'm sure we can spend some time later!" You kissed him on the cheek and pulled your chair in before continuing your work.

Omega, the greatest segment, was reduced to a blankly staring man who had been deprived of his lover's attention for the first time.

He was irritable for the rest of the day.

—

Beta was next, the poor thing.

You were always the one he blew off steam to, always willing to listen about his gripes and complaints, offering him consolation in the form of kisses and soft words.

However, you hadn't come to visit in so long, the segment was all pent up and now the agents were beginning to fall victim to him.

Fine then - he'd seek you out. Not because he needed you or missed you or anything of the sort. You were just... halting his progress with the lack of your presence. Yes, that was it.

And so the scientist, donning his grand pink bow tie, swung by your desk.

"So this is where you've been? How boring." Beta was not a segment that you'd want to do paperwork. He much preferred to be hands-on.

"Ah, Beta!" You brightened in delight at seeing one of your lovers. "I missed you!" At least you were always honest about your feelings.

... But to cut a long story short, Beta faced the same conundrum that Omega did.

Someone got turned into a floating Ruin Machine that day.

—

By now all the segments had experienced being turned away from work. Alpha's signature scowl had become permanent. Zandy was pouting the whole day as he missed his parent. Foxttore kept to himself with a pathetic sopping wet eye. His segments were fighting with each other inside his mind, a great nuisance.

All because you were too absorbed with your work to pay them any attention.

... The Doctor was now realizing that it sounded like a very familiar tune sung by you. So this was what you felt for days on end? Now, it was easier for him to understand why you were always upset if you were ignored too much.

Still, it was mortifyingly embarrassing that his segments were reduced to this pitiful state just because you rejected cuddles a few times. Regardless, it was up to him to solve the issue. After all... he missed you too. He wanted you to be around him more often again.

And so the Doctor made his way to his beloved.

There you were, all cozy on your seat as you sorted through some papers. Really, he had no clue you'd be this productive, to be honest. At least it was proof that your health hadn't gotten worse, considering how well you were handling this.

"Aren't you the one who kept saying to take breaks?" His voice made you jump a bit, having not heard him walk up.

"It's you, Dottie! I was wondering when you'd come around. And of course, I take breaks, Dottore. I have lunch with the other agents!" Ah, another party that's been hogging your attention.

"You know, this job has been pretty fun, Dottore! Everyone's real nice, we make jokes, I get to write about interesting things..." You continued to go on about the research and while usually he'd be intrigued by your findings, this time he had enough.

Dottore picked you up like a long cat as you squealed from the sudden grasping.

"What are you doing?!"

"You're coming with me," was his cut and dry response as he lifted you into his arms.

"B-But I have to work on the big report for Pantalone!" Dottore's eye twitched at the mention of the banker.

"Someone else can."

"But I-"

"I'm not listening to anything you say further," he plainly said as he walked with you cuddled into his chest as you gawked at him.

Could he be... jealous? A wee bit lonely? You kept your guesses to yourself as he eventually bought you back to his room and laid you on his bed, not even saying anything to you before sitting at his desk.

Did he simply miss your presence that much? You felt a bit bad neglecting your lovers that much. But to be fair, they kinda did the same... sometimes. You got up to console your silly husband, who was just a man in your hands.

"Hey... I missed you too, dear husband... but I had to make sure no one stole the title of best assistant from me!" Dottore only sighed at your foolishness.

Of course no one could ever replace you.

"I know you'd rather die than admit it... but don't worry. You're lucky I'm sensitive to your feelings," you teased as you kissed the top of his mask. "I'll pay more attention to you and the segments, before they cause another headache for you, love. You'll give me some vacation time off, right?"

You laughed at your own joke before Dottore pulled you into his lap, biting down hard on your neck.

—

"Beloved, would you care to join me in discussing your work?"

"You fool, they're obviously coming to my lab to activate a new Ruin Machine."

"But [Name] is supposed to play with me today!!"

"As if, they're far too busy to join you all with your silly games."

"You all will stress them out with this arguing. Now, why don't you join me for a cup of coffee instead?"

"Grr, gr gr, grr!"

It was good to be loved so deeply.

[mywitchyblog]

Why i will Nver take Antis seriously

Okay, let’s talk about why I will NEVER take anti-shifters seriously. 💀 These people seriously think they’re serving some type of intellectual argument, but let’s be real—they’re just pathetic dick riders with no valid point to make. Sweetie, they think they can just hop on some anti-shifting bandwagon, pretend to be “woke,” and act like they know better than us. But we know the truth, and it's so obvious how weak and desperate they are. The only reason they’re even talking is because they can’t handle the fact that the shifting practice is real, and people are out here thriving while they’re stuck in their flop era. 🙄

I usually just scroll right past the negative content, but one day I saw this video that made me roll my eyes so hard I almost gave myself a headache. This girl is doing a makeup tutorial, all casual and cute, and then she drops the bomb: “Remember when we all used to shift in 2020? Can we admit that it was all a lie?” Like, girl, please. 💅 Immediately, the comment section is filled with people agreeing, “Yeah, it was just lucid dreaming.” “It was maladaptive daydreaming.” Sweetie, no. Just no. You’re out here acting like you have some epiphany, but it’s really just you looking for attention because, let’s face it, you’ve got nothing else going on. 💔

Here’s the thing: If you’re gonna pretend like you’re some kind of expert on shifting, at least do the work. At least try to understand what it actually means to shift, and not just repeat what everyone else says. 🧐 This girl comes out here saying she “shifted” and was “diagnosed with schizophrenia.” Girl. I had to pause and check if I was still watching the same video, because that was a whole mess. You’re throwing around terms like mental health issues just to sound edgy and relatable? Nope. Let’s be clear: schizophrenia is not something you just casually throw around to justify some half-assed clout-chasing narrative. If you really shifted, you wouldn’t be out here trying to “debunk” something you clearly never tried to understand in the first place. You pretended to shift for attention, and now that the hype died down, you decided to flip the script and start bashing shifting because it didn’t give you the clout you wanted. Pathetic. 🤭

And let’s not forget how she conveniently chose to make this video the one that blows up. 5.2 million views, girl? 😱 But the rest of your videos barely make it to 5k? Sis, we see you. We see how this is the only way you can get any traction. Your “I’m exposing shifting” video is your only shot at relevance, and it’s clear as day that you’ve jumped on this anti-shifting bandwagon just to get some views. The flop era is real, and it’s showinggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg. You had one moment where you got some attention, but the rest of your content is crickets. 🦗 I mean, honey, if you were actually serving something real, you wouldn’t have to rely on dragging people down to make a name for yourself. 🤦‍♀️

The truth is, she’s out here just riding whatever trend gets her noticed. That’s all she’s doing. When shifting was trending in 2020, she hopped on the wave pretending to be a part of it, and now that it’s not the "in" thing anymore, she’s throwing it under the bus to stay relevant. She’s the definition of a dick rider. Trying to latch onto whatever’s popular and ride the wave for as long as she can. But we see you, and it’s not cute. 🙄 You thought this was your moment to “expose” shifting and act like you’re somehow above it, but you’re just showing how desperate you are for attention. You're chasing views like a lost puppy, and it’s pathetic.

And don’t even get me started on that comment section. Why are these people agreeing with her, parroting the same old tired “shifting is just lucid dreaming” nonsense? Where are the real thinkers in this comment section? Sweetie, if you want to speak on something, at least educate yourself before you start spreading false info. 🙅‍♀️ It’s like y’all are too lazy to actually look into shifting, spiritual hygiene, and the depth of the practice. But instead, you’re just echoing a 2020 “shiftTok” narrative, regurgitating outdated and ignorant opinions like it’s fact. I’m honestly embarrassed for you. Do your research or stop talking. Simple as that. 🧠💡

The truth is, these anti-shifters don’t care about anyone’s mental health. They’re not “protecting” anyone; they’re just mad that they couldn’t get in on the trend or didn’t put in the effort to understand it. They want to act like they’re doing some grand thing by “debunking” shifting, but all they’re really doing is exposing their own ignorance. Like, sweetie, just admit you’re jealous. You couldn’t get the attention shifting gave others, and now you’re bitter about it. 😝 You couldn’t connect with the practice, so you’re going to try and tear it down. But guess what? It’s not working. 😘

Let’s talk about the bigger picture here. The real shifters—the ones who do the work, who research, who respect the practice and the boundaries it requires—we’re still out here, and we’re still shifting. We’re still growing, we’re still thriving, and we’re not letting some random, clout-chasing person get in the way of our personal journeys. The real shift doesn’t come from attention or clout; it comes from within. It comes from dedication, intention, and respect for what we’re trying to achieve. And trust me, anyone who genuinely shifts knows it’s an empowering, transformative experience—not something to be mocked. 💫👑

So to all the fellow shifters out there, don’t let these clowns get to you. Don’t let their negativity and petty arguments distract you from your journey. You are doing something real, something powerful. While they’re stuck in their flop era, we’re out here creating new realities, growing, and elevating ourselves in ways they’ll never understand. Keep going. Stay true to your path. And remember: the truth speaks for itself, and the real ones will always rise above the noise. ✨💖 Keep shifting, keep evolving, and never let anyone who doesn’t understand the practice try to dim your light. You’re not in the same lane as them—and you never will be. 👑💫

[devosin]

— LATE NIGHTS & FLASHING LIGHTS !! episode three : bittersweet wine . . .

♡. Spotify playlist | Updates, every Friday !! — Vil Schoenheit x reader | Dual pov . .

You stare at your phone, the article of Vil’s break in loaded on screen, you focus on the title almost obsessively, your hands tightening around your phone in a death grip. Maybe scheduling a meeting so soon after something that traumatic was a bad idea, but you weren’t one to check the news often, you stopped around two years back when your ex-therapist noted how it affects your mental health negatively, so you hadn’t known the news until now, when you were scrolling aimlessly through your magicam account.  

A sigh escapes you as you lean back into your chair, Amanda had reserved a table at one of these exclusive private bars, just for privacy reasons, it would've been a nice break from your usual typical dinner outings or take-out days, if it weren't for the anxiety building up in the pit of your stomach, alongside a fresh cold platter of guilt for making Vil come out during this sort of situation, despite it not being your fault in the first place. .  or maybe it’s a good thing he’s getting out of his home . .  that is under the assumption that he did spend the night at his apartment after that. 

The bar was rather empty, everything felt like a blur, but you suppose it's normal, no one really visits the bar at 9 in the morning, sounds counter-productive, who starts the day off with alcohol anyways . .  alcoholics . . right.  

Time: 9:18 am Location: Angel’s share

Vil approaches your table, "Apologies for being late, I had to take a cab this time around", he says, as he takes a seat in front of you, setting his bag aside. 

The knots in your stomach finally come undone and you find your shoulders relaxing as you hear Vil’s voice, you didn't even know you were this worried he would stand you up, it was gravely unlikely either way, this wasn't a date but more so of a work meeting. You let out a deep breath, finally looking up at Vil’s face . .  and . . 

“Why are you wearing sunglasses inside?”, you ask, staring at him. 

“Fashion statement.”, Vil says as calmly as possible, his head moved up to meet your gaze, but you couldn’t tell if he was looking at you or not. 

You stare at him and silence falls over the table “. . . “, a few moments pass before you finally ask, “You’re hungover, aren’t you . .?” 

“. . .”, Vil gulps, turning to the side, before he mumbles out a response, , “ . . . Yes, I’m.” 

You pause for a brief moment, before letting out a laugh, everyone who you know to have previously worked with Vil has always commented on his professional and cut-to-the-point behaviour, never once did you think he'd come hungover or unkept to a first meeting.  

Vil opens his mouth, about to say something only to get interrupted by the waitress, "Excuse me, are you both ready to order?", she smiled and she looked a little familiar. Vil squinted his eyes, trying to make out her face fully, he would take off the sunglasses but the bright lights would probably make him want to kill himself, and unfortunately he couldn’t tell exactly where he'd seen her before. 

“hav—”, Vil was cut off mid-sentence, this time by Y/n, “Ah—Yes, we're ready to order.”, Vil stares at Y/n, clearly taken aback by the rude interruption and Y/n doesn’t seem to notice, probably due to his tinted sunglasses. 

“I’ll have an appletini”, Y/n says and then meets Vil’s gaze . .  he chooses to remain silent, which was a bad idea since Y/n just ended up ordering for him anyways, “You can’t stay hungover if you’re still drunk”, the logic was clearly unmatched. 

Time: 9:43 am Location: Angel’s share 

Vil pours you another drink and the two of you clearly should stop drinking—he leans down over the counter, and for a split second he takes in your features—like really takes it all in—and . . you look . . tolerable, he gulps. 

Things were quiet as you tried figuring out what new conversation starter to use, the last half an hour or so the two of you had just been talking about random things, you learnt a lot, like how Vil keeps his first award under his pillow before an awards show for good luck—which seemed so unlike the man in front of you, to the point where it was even a little adorable. 

"You know—", Vil starts speaking, capturing your attention, he swings the class slightly as he makes eye contact with you, "I don't like you very much". and silence falls over the two of you . . but weirdly enough you didn't find it uncomfortable, and for a second you thought all that therapy on confrontation had finally paid off—but it didn't, a weird feeling sat in the pit of your stomach, and you asked softly, "Why?"   

Vil paused, gulping down the rest of his drink, and he could see the waiter from the corner of his eye sighing internally—he paid him no mind—"I just don't believe you can act" . . you froze.

Yes Rook is married, because it just feels in character for Rook to be married by his mid-20's to me, like he gives that golden gilded fences perfect family daydream lifestyle vibe to me.

Cater being a good friend . . I guess?

Vil momentarily being attracted to Y/n's looks because why not.

Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter . .

— LATE NIGHTS & FLASHING LIGHTS !! ♡. Synopsis : VIL SCHOENHEIT recently signed a contract under Descendant. Inc for his very own late night show, only to find out his co-star and fellow co-host is none other than Y/n L/n, someone he hates despite knowing very little about them and never having met them, previously. Y/N L/N, an actor who made their debut 3 years ago and hasn’t been able to catch a break since, recently decided to sign a deal with Descendants. Inc to host their new late night show “late nights & flashing lights”, as a break from acting . . Only to find out their favorite long-time actor will be co-hosting with them. Tune in every Friday, for a new episode of “late nights & flashing lights” to see if these two hosts can find a peaceful work-bond amidst their judgements . . and quite possibly even love? . .

♡. Want spoilers ?! . . Join my server . . !! (or to be namedropped <3)

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© devosin , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.

[deadsetobsessions]

Pt. 3

Again, the timing is icky but pretty much everything about it is icky.

——

Bruce wondered when Talia al Ghul would stop upheaving his life.

He loves Damian, but one surprise child was a lot, considering the cult deprogramming they’d had to do.

A second, older, surprise child? That was a bit overkill.

At least this time, the conception was consensual.

Bruce cradled his head in his hands, still-gloved fingers gripping onto sweat-soaked hair. The glow of the bat computer shone on his lone figure, sat huddled before endless screens of investigations and the unraveling threads of Bruce’s sanity.

How was he to cope with the knowledge that a child- his child, like Dick and Damian and Tim and Jason and- suffered so at the man he thought he had beaten so soundly?

It was his fault, Bruce thought, that Ra’s al Ghul tortured his… Bruce’s… daughter so brutally. It was no doubt, a way to assuage his anger at Bruce’s denial of being his heir.

His mistakes always came back to haunt him, but it never laid its furious eyes and hands on his own person. No, when Bruce made mistakes, his loved ones paid for it.

He tried his best, pushed harder as Batman, in penance. But this… his unknown daughter, trapped in the shadows of the league where it is cold and cruel and brutally painful…

How could he repent for the sin of letting his daughter suffer and chained at the hands of Ra’s al Ghul? How could he show her that the shadows could be kind? That he would rather break his own spine and get lost in the time stream again before he could even fathom hurting her? He found himself stuck in the same loop of thoughts that plagued him when Damian first came into his orbit.

The screens turned black, and Oracle’s call sign flashed onto the dark pixels.

“Oracle. I hadn’t finished looking at the cases.”

“Go to sleep, Bruce.”

“No, there is still work to be-” his voice, dipping into the growl, died a quick death when Barbara cut him off.

“Your daughter is coming tomorrow. So, unless you want to look like a disheveled grease racoon when you meet her, go shower and get some actual sleep.”

Bruce paused, feeling oddly offended. His eye bags weren’t that bad.

Bruce caught sight of his reflection in one of the blacked out monitors.

…Nevermind.

He sighed. “…Thank you, Barbara.”

“Anytime, Bruce. I’m always here to kick your ass into gear.”

Bruce huffed, but obligingly got up to change and shower. Alfred silently appeared at the elevators, polished shoes tapping against the stone floor as he raised an imperious eyebrow at Bruce.

“I see Miss Barbara has managed to persuade you to retire at an hour common to regular man, Master Bruce.”

“Ah, yes, she… did.” Bruce felt the urge to apologize, because if Alfred’s up because of him, it’ll wear down harsher on the older man’s health. If there was one thing he took seriously, it would be the health of his loved ones. “Sorry, Alfred. I’ll head up to bed soon.”

“See to it that you do, Master Bruce. I will warm dinner that you had missed by many hours and bring it to your room.”

Bruce lingered as the butler turned around and began making his way back to the main house.

Alfred paused and turned around once more. “If I may offer you some advice?”

“Please. Always.”

Alfred sniffed delicately, most definitely thinking of the times Bruce decided not to take his very well reasoned and seasoned advice. “You have done well with Young Master Damian.”

“Most of that was Dick,” Bruce interrupted, man enough to admit that he wasn’t a present or a particularly good father figure before his jaunt through time and space. Alfred shot him a chiding look, reprimanding him for interrupting. Bruce rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Perhaps, but you have put in effort towards all of your children in a way that I have yet to see since Master Jason had… gone.”

“I’ll never make that period of time up to Tim.” Bruce whispered. Another thing he was guilty of. Tim still avoided some spaces in the manor, even when Bruce had-

“That is because you sit here, wallowing in your guilt,” Alfred returned. He added a belated “Master Bruce,” and it sounded like ‘you utter buffoon.’

“But…”

“You must take the first step, Master Bruce.”

“What if she hates me? What if I’m not ready- what if I can’t help her?”

“You will try. She deserves that, at the very least. You must try. Even if you are not ready for the day, Master Bruce, it can not always be night.”

“… You’re right.” Bruce straightened his shoulders. Time doesn’t wait. He, of all people, knew that.

“You will find that I am hardly ever wrong.” Alfred primly rested his hands atop each other.

“Thank you, Alfred.”

“Of course. It was also meant literally, Master Bruce, for the sun shall try its best to peek out of Gotham’s smog in approximately three hours and fourteen minutes.”

“I’m going, I’m going,” Bruce grouched.

——

Her mother gave her a slow, cautious hug, akin to approaching a wild animal.

She huffed, and pulled her mother into a crushing hug. She allowed herself, for the first time in a long time, to linger and cling onto her mother’s shirt. Another tendency that Ra’s had thought he’d beaten out of her.

“Be careful,” the reincarnation whispered.

“You as well, my beloved daughter.”

‘You do not have to remind me that I am beloved, mother. I know.’

Talia al Ghul tucked a strand of the reincarnation’s curled hair behind her ear. “No, I do not believe that you do. But that is… my own fault. I will tell you and remind you that you are beloved to me as long as I can. I have two decades of it to make up to you, habibti.”

The flight attendant- a League operative- returned from placing her bags onto the private plane.

——

A sleek car made its way up Wayne Manor’s winding driveway. She’d declined the offer to pick her up from the airport. She had wanted a vehicle of her own, and some time before she met every one else. No doubt, knowing what she knew of her brother and Bruce Wayne, not to mention the little photographer, they were most likely tracing her path to Wayne manor obsessively.

She tapped her nails on the wheel as she drove towards her brother. Brothers. And… Bruce Wayne. On one hand, she’s kept them safe. On the other, she’d sacrificed years of getting to know them. It was odd, to feel this intensely awkward and nervous after years of intense hatred or apathy sprinkled by the the occasional love and fondness for Damian and her mother.

“Hmmm.” She hummed, slight smile spreading a bit more as the sound came out without pain. Two weeks, and the novelty of freedom had not worn off. She thinks that it would never wear off. She cherished it.

The gate had opened without needing a code, so they most definitely knew she was here. It’s a good thing she had prepared gifts in advance. Dodging Gothamites as they drove and jaywalked had been a rather unforeseen ordeal that she was not looking forward to repeating.

She rolled to a smooth stop at the front doors, giving the intricately carved oak doors a passing glance. She huffed a laugh as she saw Damian, flanked by Bruce Wayne and Alfred Pennyworth, staring proudly outside at the front door. They’re anticipatory of her arrival. Warmth spread through her heart, and for the first time in a long while, it wasn’t the heat of rage.

She opened the doors with a quiet click and hiss, stepping out onto the heated paved driveway, and closed the door. At the steps, the two older men had frozen but Damian had come walking quickly towards her.

“Damian,” she whispered as he came near her, suffusing as much fondness as she could into his name. Her little brother all but sprinted towards her, screeching to a stop in front of her with excited eyes.

“Welcome to Wayne Manor, ukhti.” He said formally. Her eyes softened and she pulled him into a hug.

(yā waṭawāṭī alṣṣḡīr is the phonetic spelling.) ("وطواطي الصغير" is the actual spelling. I think.)

“I have missed you, ya wat-wat alssgirr,” she whispered. The familiar endearment, “my little bat,” rung warmly like a warm crease ruffling his hair. The silks of her clothes and the ever present warm sand and candle scent wrapped around him like a hug… like the hug she was currently giving him.

(Her clothes were in blues and silvers. It suited her, she who had been forced in green and golds and cuts of black.)

“I still can not believe you all but told me who father was and I still could not figure it out until mother told me.”

She pulled back. ‘Damian, you were five.’

“I have little doubt you were smarter at my age, ukhti, so do not lie to me.” Damian grumbled. Nevertheless, he stepped back.

‘No, you were smarter.’

And to her, he was. It’s not like Damian had the edge she did, and he wasn’t the one trapped for twenty something years. She had foolishly thought that Ra’s wouldn’t dare to harm her too much, seeing as she was his blood, but Damian knew from day 1. She made sure he did. If she was half as smart as Damian, she would have bent her knee and obeyed, no matter how she felt about killing. She would have taken warning Ra’s issued and soaked in the poisonous praise to bide her time to escape. She could not- she did not- do what Damian found effortless, and paid the price for it.

“Unlikely,” Damian said, turning around fully, but she could see the tips of her brother’s ears burning. Ah, perhaps she had been to stingy with compliments if he was shy hearing a mild one, sincere as it might have been. “This is Alfred Pennyworth. He is the butler, and an integral part of the family.”

Damian glanced at her, taking in her suddenly impassive face, and nods. Good. His attitude towards Pennyworth when he first arrived was… mildly shameful. His ukhti was smart enough to know that and therefore he won the argument.

On her part, the reincarnation followed along like she hadn’t mildly stalked this family for decades. It was nice to see excitement rearing on her brother’s face. It was rare in the league and Gotham’s gloom had ironically cheered him up far more than the suns of desserts ever did. She nodded at Alfred Pennyworth, who had admirably recovered from his earlier shock.

“And this is… Bruce Wayne. Our father.”

She tucked a strand of curled hair back, impassive blue eyes meeting her… father’s.

She offered him a short nod.

——

“My word,” Alfred Pennyworth muttered as his charge’s (his son’s) daughter step out of the car. Her steps were silent, graceful, and lighter than a gazelle.

The way she moved, even as she hugged young master Damian, whispered of leashed lethality and treacherous waters. She moved like if grace had a form and Alfred was willing to bet his entire career that not an iota of air got close to her without her knowledge of it, and it reminded the aging man of the young Miss Cassandra. He knew then, that she could have pretended to be unassuming and that he would have had a hard time equating her with danger. That she showed them her potential for death was a sign of trust.

But it was not the way she claimed death as her own name that caught the former spy’s attention.

No.

It was her blue eyes and the way they ever so slightly crinkled fondly as she laid eyes upon her younger brother. It was the way her hair, curled in a nostalgic style, that curtained her face as she spoke to the young Wayne heir, though he could not hear her voice. It was the way that she tucked Damian against her side, protective but encouraging.

It was the way that she, despite Talia al Ghul’s features, resembled his dearest friend, Martha Wayne, in her every movement.

Alfred Pennyworth felt like he was decades younger, standing before Martha as she fondly tucked Bruce against her side and successfully needled Thomas into going to see Bruce’s favorite movie.

It felt like he had his best friend once more, just a little.

From the way Master Bruce stared, it seemed as though he thought the same.

Alfred straightened when young master Damian introduced him. He was the Wayne Family Butler. And she was definitely a Wayne.

Master Bruce stood there like a lout as his daughter greeted him. Alfred shot him a scathing look- he had taught Master Bruce much better manners than to gape, the nerve!- before smoothly directing the attention away. His hands moved as he spoke.

“Welcome to Wayne Manor, Miss-”

She made a sharp motion to cut him off and signed something. Alfred might be a tad rusty in Arabic sign language (like he and the rest of the family hadn’t spent the last two weeks frantically memorizing and brushing up on their sign language) but he knew a name sign when he saw one.

“al Ghul.” Damian recognized. He did not use regular Arabic Sign Language with her often, vastly preferring their own established sign, but that did not mean he slacked. “You may call her al-Ghul.”

‘Or nothing at all,’ Damian’s sister signed. She looked at him like she was waiting. A test, Alfred realized.

Alfred pushed the slight twinge of disheartening disappointment away. He had wanted to call her Miss Wayne, to perhaps indulge in a bit of nostalgia for a while longer. But he shan’t do it at the expense of his charge.

“Miss al Ghul,” he continued, not missing a beat, imitating the name sign with pin point accuracy. She lifted her chin. Alfred sighed in relief. He passed. And now, perhaps he should revive Ra’s al Ghul and have a nice, entirely civil conversation about Miss al Ghul’s expectation that her wishes would go ignored.

Alfred will bring his shotguns and most likely would abandon pretenses as soon as that old goat got into his crosshairs. Old as he might be, he was still a very good shot, and civility was reserved for those with honor.

“Please head inside. I am sure young master Damian would love to guide you on a tour,” Alfred continued like he didn’t think of violent second deaths for Ra’s al Ghul. “Perhaps Master Bruce will join you, if you are amendable, once he has managed to stop imitating the rather life like form of a smooth brained sloth.”

Alfred congratulated himself on the small crinkle of humor that graced Miss al Ghul’s otherwise expressionless face. Well, expressionless to those that did not know where to look. Fortunately, Alfred and the rest of the family were used to stoic caveman micro expressions, courtesy of Bruce, and therefore it would not be much of a problem.

“I will bring your bags up to your room.”

She scrutinized him and then dipped her head.

‘Be careful. There are dangerous things in there.’

“I assure you the utmost privacy in regards to your belongings,” Alfred said.

“Pennyworth will not peruse your belongings, ukhti. He has more honor and respect than that.”

Alfred would like to interrogate Talia al Ghul to see who he must introduce some lead to, that clearly disrespected Miss al Ghul’s privacy like so. But for now, he will bask in the warmth of young master Damian’s implicit trust.

Miss al Ghul nodded. She opened the trunk of the car- the interior of which Alfred could now perceive to be entirely customized and of extremely quality material. She handed the keys and gave him access to her luggage. Then, placing her hand at young master Damian’s shoulder, followed the young master into the halls where she ought to have been raised. Or, at the very least, ought to have taken a step in at least once before today.

Master Bruce lingered at the doorway, torn between following the siblings and helping Alfred with the luggage (read: running away.)

“The daylight is wasting, Master Bruce.”

Master Bruce skittered in behind them like a newborn colt, wobbling and anxious.

Well, it’s time for Alfred to do his job. There was only a single duffle bag.

Hm. He’ll have to tell Master Bruce to take her out for necessities. He hardly doubted that a single bag could last her very long. And Alfred Pennyworth was hellbent on convincing his granddaughter to stay, may the gods have mercy on whichever poor soul that tried to convince her otherwise for he won’t.

——

She followed Damian as he led her deeper within the walls of a home she knew by heart from afar. She was like the little photographer in that way. Bruce Wayne trailed behind them like a particularly awkward ghoul, and she found it amusing to equate this turtle necked man was the illustrious Dark Knight. How dangerous.

“This is the first parlor. It is for guests of the… regular persuasion.”

Ah, for the civilians. She nodded.

“Ah, the silverware was selected by Alfred.” Bruce interjected, gesturing to the display silverware by the door. Their cabinets were intricate without taking away from the paintings upon the delicate ceramic.

She looked at him, wondering why he was following before giving up and nodding. It was his house.

(Bruce, for his part, felt like his daughter had laid judgement upon him… and found him lacking.)

‘It is… adequate.’ She sighed to Damian. Damian tutted.

“It’s fine to say quaint, sister. It could hardly compare to the palace.”

Bruce jolted, plans for converting the manor into a palace already in the making.

No, he couldn’t. Alfred would murder him with his favorite dish.

‘I like it, even if it is smaller.’

“….you do?”

‘You are happy here. It is warm to you. I like it.’ She repeated.

Damian latched onto her sleeve. “I- I shall show you my art. And then introduce you to the rest of the bumbling fools we have for brothers-”

She tilted her head. Bruce paused as well when Damian’s words cut off.

“If… you want them as brothers. It would be… helpful, to integrate.”

She waited.

“But… I am the first. Your blood. And-”

‘I will make room in my heart for them, if you wish it. I already know some of them.’ She allowed a small smile to show. ‘But that does not mean you will ever lose your place, little bat.’

Damian felt extremely thankful that father had not managed to pick up their version of sign language yet.

“Well… as long as you’re aware.” He marched further into the manor. She followed, once more, a look of fond indulgence gleaming in her eyes.

——

She stood in front of a painting her younger brother had done.

‘I made it two weeks ago,’ he’d told her, fingers curled into her palm.

It was green. She hated green. And gold. And ominous. Rage. Harsh, bold strokes and spots where the texture of the canvas were either globbed over or painfully showing through.

Her hands traced the single stroke of blue amidst the turbulence of green.

She tucked Damian against her side and realized that perhaps he understood after all, what it felt like. Perhaps not all of it, but enough.

——

“Here is your room, ukhti.” Damian stood watch as his sister scanned the room. She quickly removed three listening devices as Damian sighed.

‘You’ve gotten better.’ She crossed the room and plucked the listening bug from its place on the door frame.

“Clearly not good enough.” Damian huffed. “But I have beaten your knife game record. What do you think of the room?”

His sister rolled her eyes and handed him a blade she pulled from somewhere on her person.

An implicit challenge.

“No cutting your fingers off, please.” Father interceded.

“Begone, father. We are doing sibling bonding, something I remember you insisting that I participate in.”

Damian shut the door on his stupefied face, matching his sister’s sharp smirk as he splayed his hand on the dresser and raised the blade.

——

Alfred walked in with a covered plate and paused at the sight of the dresser.

Then, he looked on as Damian sat at the desk, rapidly signing to his sister in their own version of the language as said sister pulled out an entire wardrobe and a half to fill in the walk-in closet.

Alfred made a note to study some more magic.

“Miss al-Ghul. I bring you a snack that young master Damian made and to inform you that the others will be arrive en masse, within an hour.” Alfred paused. “Might I interest you in a mat before the two of you decide to… take a gander at furniture redecoration in the future?”

“Of course, Pennyworth. Apologies.”

“I’ll try to make sure they won’t overwhelm you. They can be a lot, at once.” Bruce said from the doorway. Miss al Ghul glanced at him and dipped her head in thanks. Her eyes wandered right back to the dessert.

Alfred made another note.

‘You made this for me?’ She asked, switching to standard.

Damian grumbled. “Do not eat it. I could not get the spice quite right, no matter how many variations…”

‘I am sure it will be good.’ She took the plate from Alfred’s hand and uncovered it.

They all had the fortune of witnessing a true, genuine wide eyed smile from a stoic face.

Alfred inhaled sharply. He had thought Master Bruce and young master Damian had inherited Thomas’ dimples. But she had inherited his entire smile.

‘Bstilla!’ She turned to Damian. ‘My favorite! You made this?’

“I know that. I am not incompetent as to not notice when you snuck three of them from the palace kitchens. You must give me the recipe from the cooks. I could not get it to taste like the spices they used. I even imported spices!”

Miss al-Ghul, like she had forgotten he and Master Bruce were there, stabbed a fork into the pie and put it into her mouth.

“Ukhti! Don’t- do not eat that! Spit it out! The pastry is too thick and-”

She held up her hand. ‘It’s good. I know what it is missing.’

She strode to her magic bag and pulled out a bottle.

She sprinkled flakes on top and offered a forkful of b’stilla to the young master who, shockingly, did not insist on his own utensil.

His expression lightened. “This is it. What is it? You know of the chefs’ methods?”

She sprinkled the mysterious spice on the food. ‘You’ve never eaten anything the chefs have made. I made your food by hand to prevent assassinations and inoculate you against toxins. Also, this is poison.’

Alfred stiffened.

“It’s what?!” Bruce spoke up, rushing into the room, finally to try and look Damian over.

‘It is fine. He has been immune since he was three.’

Miss al Ghul placed a piece of poisoned b’stilla in her mouth and ate. Young master Damian batted his father off, saying that poison inoculation was hardly a surprise. What was a surprise, though, was something else.

“That is- you- you’re the one who made my meals?” Young Master Damian demanded, looking guilty. “But- I- why did you not tell me? I made all of those demands in the middle of the night- what about the time I sent back the knafe fifteen times?”

She nodded.

“Why would you- why did you not tell me?”

‘You knew what grandfather thought of women. And besides, it was the only time I was allowed sweets. He did not want me to ruin my figure as it would lower my marketability.’

Alfred itched for his gun.

“You are not a commodity,” Master Bruce stated, intense as he tended to be. Miss al Ghul blinked at him.

‘… I am aware. But… thank you.’

“Ah. Yes. Of course.” And there went the emotionally intelligent Master Bruce. May he rest in peace until the next time he decides to make an appearance.

“I believe today is a chocolate chip cookie day, do you not, young master Damian?”

“Yes, Pennyworth, I believe it is.”

‘I have never tried it before.’

“You will love it. Pennyworth’s cookies are the best in the world, as is expected.”

Alfred watched as young master Damian tugged his sister out and marveled. The sides of his grandson they rarely get to see was so easily pulled out by his older sister.

——

Y’all I wanted to write her meeting the siblings but Alfred came out of no where and went haha nope feel the angst of a man who lost his best friend and had to raise her vigilante child.

Alfred, seeing Bruce put on the bat cowl for the first time: martha, why have you forsaken me

——

Me: what would baby assassins play as a binding game?

Me, remembering my past as a kid: I Spy, but with trackers and bugs. oh wait… THE KNIFE GOES CHOP CHOP CHOP

——

Also, I think B’stilla was food meant only for royalty and was probably rooted in slavery, so I thought it would be a meaningful nod to her position of privilege and how she are like a king but was treated as a… bed warmer and a slave. Yeah. If anyone knowledgeable on food history wants to school me on b’stilla, feel free to do so. I did like, a cursory research at best.

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Hi I’ve been thinking about this request for poly!plastics for a while now. So basically everyone knows that Regina gets angry and when she does people just don’t part ways with her. However, y/n is worse especially when she doesn’t get her full sleep which she didn’t get bc Gretchen and Karen were up and loud. (Y/n would never fault them bc she just loves them so much and their quirks). So throughout the school day, everyone has been getting on Y/n nerves like making comments about her girls etc. at lunch time, cady decided to make a “joke” about Karen being dumb, Regina being a bitch, etc and Y/n just explodes. Maybe heavy make out sess or smut after to calm Y/n down.

Slow Boil

|| Poly!plastics x fem!reader

(I myself am poly)

|| Warnings: swearing, reader almost punches Cady, reader has an attitude, little make out session at the end but nothing overly detailed or anything

|| Summary: reader doesn't get enough sleep, the next day people get on her nerves and it pushes her to a boiling point where she snaps at Cady for insulting her girls.

Requests open!

~~~

To say you were exhausted would be an understatement. You barely got any sleep the night before with Gretchen and Karen being up all night giggling and gossiping. How Regina slept through them... you didn't know, but God you were envious of her sleeping abilities. Though you would never blame or get mad at Gretchen and Karen. You would however be frustrated at yourself for not falling asleep sooner.

The day seemed to drag on. As if seconds were really minutes and minutes were hours. Classes taking too long to complete. In Health & Fitness you just gave up and fell asleep, head rested on your desk with one arm folded around it and other stretched out in front of you. Cady glanced at you and raised an eyebrow.

The bell woke you from your sleep and you groaned, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. At least it was lunch. You'd get to see your girlfriends.

"Sleeping beauty rises." Mr. Carr comments, getting a few laughs from some kids in the back. You roll your eyes at him.

"I bet you thought that was clever. Do everyone a favour and keep your damn puns to yourself." Mr. Carr seemed taken aback by your attitude, usually you didn't have one. You were known for being kind and laid back. Not snappy and agitated. For that reason, he decides to let it go. Not without giving you a small warning lecture first. It certainly didn't make your mood any better.

You left the class, a sharp (sleep filled) glare glossing over your eyes as you walk through the halls. Some conversations catching your attention, people seemed to be talking about your girlfriends a lot lately. The things they were saying weren't always positive and that just did nothing to improve your mood. One voice in particular catches your attention. Cady.

You snapped your head in her direction, seeing her chatting with those art freaks Janis and Damien.

"Honestly, Karen's gotta be the dumbest person I've ever met. When I went to Regina's house Regina told Karen she would help her with her eyebrows and Karen asked if she could still have two." Cady talked, Damien and Janis laughed. You could feel your blood boiling," Speaking of Regina, don't even get me started on her. She is such a bi-"

"The next word out of your mouth better fucking be "bi icon" or I swear to every God that's listening..!" You yelled, taking a step towards Cady who froze in place. Damien and Janis exchanged a look.

"Y-Y/N, I didn't think-" You cut Cady off.

"Clearly! What the hell, Cady?! They've been nothing but nice- well, to your face- and this how you repay them?" You were livid. The news about you fighting with Cady quickly spread throughout the school, eventually reaching your girlfriends who sprang into action. Hoping to stop things before it escalated.

Regina got there first and put herself between you and Cady right as you had been about to strike. You pause the moment you see Regina and your arm falls to your side. Gretchen and Karen link their arms around yours and keep you back while Regina sighs.

"Baby, take a breath for me." Regina says, you ignore her and look at Cady. She snaps her fingers in your face," Don't look at her. Look at me."

You listen. Reluctantly.

"Breathe." Regina urges, hand resting on your shoulder. When that doesn't work she grabs you by your wrist and pulls you to the bathroom, Gretchen and Karen quickly following behind.

Once there, they all turn and face you.

"What was all that about?" Gretchen asks.

"Cady was being a total bitch." You mutter, arms folded across your chest.

"You mean like Cady Heron?" Karen looks confused.

"No, KD Mac and Cheese." You snap, then realize who you just snapped at. Regina narrows her eyes at you. Karen frowned and you relaxed your shoulders.

"I'm sorry... I just- didn't get any sleep last night and my patience has been pushed to the edge today because of it..." You admit in a mumble, hand covering your face as you tilted your head down. You felt bad.

Gretchen took a step towards you and wrapped her arms around your shoulders, pulling you into her side as she moves her hand away from your face. Giving you a deep, soft kiss that you immediately melt into. Hands resting gently around Gretchen to pull her closer. You could feel as your body finally relaxed. Whatever anger you had being washed away.

She broke the kiss and rested her hand to your cheek," Better?"

"I could maybe use a couple more kisses..." You smile sheepishly, looking over at Regina and Karen. Your girlfriends laugh softly and the tension in the room seems to fade.

[mysumeow]

. . . ꒰ FOUND WOUNDED

Warnings: afab genitalia, gender neutral pronouns. PIV unprotected sex, Lilia takes a dominant role throughout the smut, hair pulling (reader giving), overstimulation (reader receiving), cunnilingus. not proofread it is what it is.

Summary: Out of the kindness of your heart —and naivety mixed in— you nurse back to health the injured fae you came across with in the forest.

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: if you find a mistake just ➖➖ close your eyes like that and pretend you dont see it. my contribution for general lilia lovers (myself included💗)

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ 🌷 . . KOFI | NEXT

At first, General Lilia was like a feral cat when you tried to get close to him.

Injured and almost unconscious; that was how you had found him. A gaping wound on his abdomen. Regardless of his blurry vision, he could still make out the smell of a human.

Thus, through deep breaths and pained winces, he demanded that you not come closer. Those demands were accompanied by curses and hisses, of course.

Perhaps you were naive or had no sense of self-preservation, or both, because despite his refusal to receive aid, you carried him on your back.

Had the fae been in better condition, you wouldn't have made one step forward without some inconvenience happening.

Lilia's first instinct, when he awoke the next day, was to attempt to flee before you realized he was up. Granted, the pain from recent battle wounds sliced through his being, rendering him to fall back on the bed.

His heartbeat picked up once he saw you walking into the room, kicking the door shut, and carrying breakfast in your hands.

The fae's words were nothing short of disdainful, accompanied by threats.

You were aware of the complex human-fae relationships and weren't surprised by his outburst. Instead, you ignored his empty words, left the breakfast on the little nightstand next to the bed, and left.

Although the general wasn't pleased at the fact you dismissed his words as if he were blabbering, he himself knew he wouldn't hurt a defenseless human like yourself. He's willing to turn a blind eye to those that aren't part of the Silver Owl's; after all, you weren't an immediate threat to him.

He sighed, turning to look at the source of the appealing aroma on the nightstand.

He wasn't that hungry, right? He could just wait a while longer, just to establish a sense of power over you—he didn't need you as much as you thought he did.

The grumbling from his stomach made his thoughts pause.

By lunch time, you decided it was a reasonable idea to check back on the fae you rescued yesterday.

The plate was clean, as you expected.

Without sharing another word, you gathered the plate and the utensils to head back to the kitchen, until the fae’s low voice and dry manner of speaking interrupted you.

“You know our kind have had conflicts of interest, right?” You couldn’t identify any sort of hostility or ill-intent from him when he spoke his mind.

“I...” You stopped to wonder if you actually considered that detail when you decided to bring this stranger into the safety of your home. “I wouldn’t be able to turn my back on someone who’s about to die,”

Lilia stared at you; you couldn’t discern how he took the comment.

“Hmph,” he said, crossing his arms. “You humans underestimate faes. I’ve survived worse wounds. This is nothing in comparison.”

“Yeah, yeah. You're, oh, so dangerous, and I'm, oh, so fragile. Please don’t kill me, Mr. Fae,” you feigned a squeakier voice. You reveled in amusement at his displeased expression. Suddenly, you realized you didn’t even know his name. “By the way, I don’t know what to call you.”

For a moment, Lilia considered not telling you. He would flee this place as soon as he could, so what was the point? He reasoned. Despite that, he figured that you would be more fearful of him if he revealed his name, as everyone knew the title that was accompanied by it.

“Or do you want me to keep calling you Mr. Fae?” You kept poking fun at him.

“I’m Lilia Vanrouge. Does the name ring any bells to you?”

You stopped for a moment to think.

“To be honest, no.”

Lilia wondered how you were still alive at this point, being so detached from the current events going on. You had just enough information to know about the war that was going on.

Unbelievable. He shook his head before looking down at the bandages wrapped around his lower abdomen.

The dull pain that comes from wounds was still present, albeit less than yesterday. He made an effort to sit up on the bed and undid the bandages, wanting to check the wound. If he applied less strength than usual, the sting was bearable.

You stitched his lesion while he was unconscious. Even though your work was decent, he couldn’t help but wish there were fairies nearby who could speed up the healing process. He couldn’t stop thinking back on his troops, the princess, his kind—they needed him right now.

Lilia’s troubled pondering stopped when you came back.

“I was just about to ask how you were feeling. The stitches haven’t opened, right?” You dabbed the rag into the water, looking to use the piece of cloth to clean up any dirt or blood that might’ve been left over from the prior day.

“Halt, human,” he tried to scurry away, flustered. “I can do it myself. I managed to eat on my own. I don’t need your help. Wait outside,”

“Okay, but you still should clean the rest of your body. I thought I could help you walk to the bathroom so you can use the shower,” you said, placing a hand on your chin. “Will you be able to reach your back? Bend enough to clean your legs?”

Lilia narrowed his eyes, partly out of suspicion. “If I were you, I’d be more cautious of a stranger,” he sighed. “I’ll allow you to help me clean my back. The rest, I can manage. Try anything funny, and I’ll make sure you’ll regret it,”

“Anything funny? You mean killing you? Do you think I would go to these lengths just to murder you?”

“My point stands.”

You guided the fae towards your bathroom; you left him alone so he could undress and wash what he could without your help. Once he was done, he called to you, where he was waiting, sitting on the wooden bathroom’s stool with a towel wrapped around his hips.

He didn’t acknowledge you entering; he just sat there in silence, waiting for you to pour water on his scarred back. Some scars were new, some were old, and others were fading.

His ears flicked when he heard you sit behind him.

The session was…awkward, to say the least. You both were quiet, and you wondered what he was thinking about during his silence. You resisted the urge to trace the scars on his back. You surmised that it must be a sensitive topic for him. You knew about the hardships of war, but having a glimpse of the surface of them awakened a sense of pity for him.

You slid the rag along his back. Albeit having a thin frame, there was some tonification...

He shivered, interrupting both your train of thoughts and your languid movements.

“You done?” he asked, looking at you over his shoulder.

“Yes,” you answered curtly, ashamed of yourself for allowing your mind to wander that much.

From then on, having the general living under the same roof was...an experience. To you, he seemed to have some sort of internal conflict when speaking to you; sometimes, he would speak in a kinder way, and at other times, he would go back to his withdrawn and indifferent attitude.

Like he was afraid of getting too attached soon.

You would tease him, proclaiming that he had developed a soft spot for you. He would either roll his eyes, huff, or deny, until he stopped paying attention to your “pointless ramblings” (as he called them). You couldn’t help but find amusement at the idea of this fae getting tired of your teasing and preferring to ignore them.

Of course, the general would rather die than admit his days in relative leisure with you were quite endearing—he wouldn’t admit his true feelings to himself either—as having someone looking out for you was a change of pace for his days of solitude. Solitude comes in the form of having no one else but himself to rely on.

For a human such as yourself to be selfless enough to nurse him back to health, even if not necessary until a certain point, made you stand out over the rest of the past human interactions he’d experienced.

Avarice and thoughtlessness were, after all, the reasons why the fae clashed with humanity.

Alack, he couldn’t stay here with you for the rest of his life.

Basking in the last rays of sunlight, sitting on the fresh grass as you shared a meal, you didn’t expect Lilia to have a gloomy expression.

“You’re going back to your military camp?”

“The war isn’t over yet. I’ve wasted enough time waiting for my wounds to heal,” Absentmindedly, his hands hovered over where the gaping wound once was. “You’ve been…”

“Hm?” You directed your focus to him, expecting him to finish his sentence while you munched on a slice of bread.

“I’ll give it to you. You’ve been helpful, but also annoying. I wouldn’t have imagined someone to have the ability to both heal and damage someone at the same time,” he took a sip of the tea and turned his head away in agitation.

“Would it hurt too much to just say ‘thank you’?” You rolled your eyes.

“Thank you,” he agreed, so you would drop the topic.

The sun had long since set, the single light source coming from your home. Lilia gave one last glance at your profile, noticing you were deep in thought.

He opened his mouth to tell you he was going inside again. Then he closed it again, thinking maybe you didn’t want to be disturbed by whatever you were reflecting on.

For the past few weeks, stress over how his troops were doing has built up. The general couldn’t wait any longer to go back to them.

He departed that same night.

Lilia took a quick look at the bedroom he has been staying in, checking if there was anything he should take with him before departing.

Alongside his mask, he wielded his magical lithic with practiced ease. 

He placed a hand on the window and pulled the lower panel up to open it. With a foot already on the windowsill, he hesitated.

I haven’t said goodbye to...

Almost as if driven by instinct, he went back to the living room, where he last saw you a couple of hours before.

At first, he didn’t see you. He rationalized that you were in your bedroom now; however, a soft snore made him realize that wasn’t the case.

Sprawled on the couch. Blanket on the floor. Your head is almost falling off the edge of said furniture.

That’s how he found you sleeping.

He deadpanned, reaching down towards the blanket on the floor and draping it over your sleeping form.

Did Lilia feel at fault that he didn’t get to say goodbye? Yes. Nevertheless, the fae was set on answering the call of his obligations before letting himself realize it.

Being a proper general like him, he located the camp with ease. Every single one of his comrades celebrated his return.

Now, this was an environment he was used to. It felt right; this was what he was familiar with.

And despite that, he couldn’t shake you off his thoughts. Not even the next day.

His mind kept reeling back on the idea of heading towards your small cottage to apologize.

Lilia groaned in frustration, turning around on the makeshift bed inside his tent. He stared at the walls, asking himself if it made sense for him to have these feelings.

Humans are weak. I should check on that human. Yeah, that’s it. That human is clumsy.

While putting on his armor and tying the knots in their places, he couldn’t believe himself—he was going back just to see you.

It was past midnight. Perhaps it wasn’t the best time to go see you, but he hoped you were up. He remembered that you tend to stay up past that hour.

He found himself smiling fondly at the memory before his smile dropped at the smell of smoke and fire in the distance.

With a racing heart, Lilia hurried to where he knew your home was.

Engulfed by fire.

The orange embers reflected on Lilia’s eyes as he gawked at the unbelievable sight. Soon, his attention was brought back to unknown faces inspecting around the perimeter. He identified the silver armor, and Lilia didn’t waste any more time acting.

“The general!” One of them shouted, the others unsheathed their swords, and they prepared to attack.

By the sound of it, Lilia supposed that this was an ambush, since it appeared that they were after him and set the house on fire to have a better chance of hunting him down.

“Where’s the human?!” Lilia demanded, pushing the lithic blade against the soldier he trapped.

“Calcinated, perhaps,” he spat.

As she was about to slice him open, something stopped Lilia.

With a hand on his arm, you managed to halt his movements. Had you come any later, the soldier would’ve had his neck chopped.

You didn’t give him a chance to question you; rather, you pulled him away from the burning place and into the forest.

To say the fae was speechless was a way to put it—he was baffled. Up until a certain moment, he managed to regain his composure and grab you by the shoulders.

“Why didn’t you let me end him?!” He shook you. “You allowed those pesky pests to get away with it!”

“Lilia—”

“What?!”

“You’re digging your nails. It hurts.”

His arms dropped back to his sides, as if you were scalding hot.

“Now what’re you going to do? Your home…”

“I have no other choice other than traveling back to town.”

“Alone? In the middle of a war? You’re lucky enough I was willing to spare you, but I can’t guarantee other faes will do the same,” Again, his hands were on you. “You’re coming with me,”

Your mind stalled.

“Huh?” You followed him when he began heading in a direction only he knew where it ended. “Are you accompanying me towards the town?”

“Do I look like someone who has that much time to spare?” He squeezed your hand more. “I’ll take you to my camp,”

You stopped walking, pulling on his hand.

“You can’t be serious. Aren’t they going to kill me?”

“Dare anyone lay a hand on you, I’ll return the action tenfold.”

“How are you so sure they won’t dare hurt me?”

“Because I’m their general.”

“So, when were you planning on telling me that minuscule detail?” Your voice became increasingly louder as you spoke from shock. “That all this time, I’ve had the general in my home?!”

“You’re going to attract an enemy’s attention. Shut up,” he said, covering your mouth with his hand. “Let’s get going,”

You managed to escape unscathed from the fire but were exhausted from the stress of having to flee. You hugged yourself while you followed the general, fending off the chill of the night that was starting to seep into your being.

There was someone waiting by the camp’s entrance, and Lilia knew who that was.

“General, there you are!” The man’s green eyes fixed on you; sheer disdain reflected on them upon seeing you. “What’s that human doing here? They didn’t harm you, right?!”

“Quiet, Baur! This human is coming with me,” Lilia looked at you for a second. “This person is... who found me wounded back then,”

It seemed as if Lilia had mentioned you to this fae named Baur before your meeting.

“I trust you’ll keep this a secret. If the soldiers ask why this human is with us, tell them that they’re being held hostage to aid with manual labor,” Lilia had made up his mind. There was no way he would let you dive into danger.

“General… I trust your judgment above all, but—”

“My decision isn’t up for debate.”

Baur shifted his gaze back on you, unconvinced of the general’s judgment. Regardless, he recognized his position and didn’t object further.

You were drowsy. You didn’t notice you followed Lilia into his tent.

Lilia, too, occupied with his own musings, didn’t bat an eye at the arrangement.

"It would be a better idea if—" he turned around and saw you had already made yourself comfortable on his bed. You had shrugged your coat off in a messy manner, one sleeve still up your shoulder.

Acting out what felt natural, he kneeled on the makeshift mattress and finished pulling the sleeve off your body. Then he grabbed the blanket to place it over you, but you stopped him by putting your hand on his cheek.

"You look tired too," you noted with a whisper.

"Not more than you."

"My body's exhausted, but my mind's wide awake still," You moved your hand away from his cheek and reached behind him to slide the hair tie off. His ponytail became undone, locks of hair falling on either side of his face.

His hand snatched yours, albeit his face was flushed and his ears red. He held your gaze, bodies rising in temperature, until he couldn’t hold it anymore and leaned down to kiss you. It started as a vehement desire to demonstrate the feelings bottled up inside.

You weren’t faring any better, hugging him close to you despite how his fangs would bite down on your lip, almost drawing blood from his eagerness. Lilia rested his weight atop yours, pinning you down against the bed, hands wandering around your torso and squeezing what he could.

Breathless, Lilia pulled away, panting, his fangs peeking.

Intrigued by their shape, your thumb touched the pointy edge, feeling its puncture on the surface.

“Your fangs. They’re very sharp,” Your thumb moved away from the impressive canine teeth, preferring to graze it across his reddened bottom lip.

“Keep touching me like that, and I’ll use them to leave marks on that pretty neck of yours.”

You swiped your finger over his lip again.

His hand went straight to your head and pulled to expose your neck; a soft mewl escaped you. In no time, restless hands undid each other’s clothes in a haze. Lilia reminded you to avoid waking up the slumbering soldiers with your constant moans.

Had his mouth not been occupied slurping and sucking your clit, he would’ve had to control his voice too; Lilia had told you to get on top of him, baring your pussy in the most vulnerable way possible by placing your knees on either side of his head. You started by trying to not suffocate him, fearing that it might be too much—Lilia couldn’t care any less about that since he pulled you closer by your hips.

Sloppy—the very image of starving and making a mess between your legs. He guided your hips to move in backward and forward motions, just making it harder for you to quiet down. 

“Lilia,” you tried to warn him of your approaching orgasm.

One hand tightened on your hips when he sensed you trying to get off, while the other slid up the small of your back to push you forward, making it easier for him to reach your clit.

“I’m going to cum, Lilia. Please,” You weren’t even sure what you were asking for, but your hips trembled, and you didn't want that satisfaction to end.

You bit down on your hand to silence yourself when you reached your climax.

However, Lilia’s hunger wasn’t satiated. You felt as if he was about to pounce on you, which wasn’t far-fetched, because he proceeded to change positions and push you on your back.

You couldn’t hold back your whimpers as Lilia kept teasing your sensitive clit, trying to tell him you were still coming down from your orgasm, but your own mind betrayed you. Lilia’s grin was fiendish, adoring the way you were so responsive to him.

“That was all it took to get this pussy this drenched?” He fingered your hole, and beyond indecent sounds came from there. “Listen to that. You’re beyond soaked. Even the insides of your thighs are covered with your cum. Didn’t you enjoy that a little too much?” he teased.

“F-Fuck, shut up,” your cheeks burned from embarrassment.

He wasn’t better off himself either. Beads of precum both roll down his dick and drip on your thigh. With the same hand he masturbated you with, he used your slick to further lubricate his cock, even if it wasn’t necessary given how wet you were.

He aligned it with your entrance and pushed in, panting from how good you felt to him. The moment he was completely inside, he began thrusting with unparalleled pace. You bit your lip, along with teary eyes, making your best attempt at keeping your voice down. Lilia noticed you struggling and bent down to shut you up with his own lips. For that instance, the tempo staggered but was still thrusting hard.

Through your foggy mind, you wondered how such a slim body like his was able to muster this much force at such a rapid pace. How a fae with a pretty and charming face like his could be this debauched...

“Ah…” he moaned against your neck, hunger overriding any sense of rationality. Lilia hid his face in your neck, licking and kissing it.

Without you needing to tell him, the general busied his hand with your clit again, pushing you closer to an orgasm. At this point, he went back to that sloppy tempo, and your hands darted to his disheveled hair, tugging those lovely locks of magenta and black hair. You tugged slightly harder without you discerning as you orgasmed, your body quivering from the intensity of the climax. A small grunt left him and came shortly after you.

After a while of catching his breath, he pulled away and lied down next to you.

“You’re lucky these soldiers are heavy sleepers, and my tent isn’t close to theirs.”

You covered your face, realizing that you were basically surrounded by more faes. “I don’t want to show my face to them,”

Essentially, the soldiers were heavy sleepers thanks to the weariness of having to train early in the day, do manual work, fight, run up and down the mountain, and everything else. They didn’t hear a thing. As for Baur, however...

[gojoux]

『 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 』

· Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader

· Summary: Gojo never felt truly cared for besides from his best friend who had parted ways. In his doubtful phase, he keeps asking the question why would you care so much for him?

· CW: 5.8k // Hurt/Comfort. Fluff. Angst. Gojo in badmood. Gojo against the world, maybe. Reader's patience is as thick as Toji's biceps but also as thin as his pet worm's hair.

You're sitting with Shoko in the classroom across from each other as you eat your lunch. “Have you heard anything from Satoru?” You ask her, wondering where the talkative lanky man is. You always call him by his given name when you're talking about him with Shoko, but never in front of him.

Shoko gives you a sad smile as she shakes her head. “No, not recently. The last time we talked was just before winter break. He came to me to ask a few things, that was it.” She pauses for a moment before looking at you. “Is something wrong?”

“Winter break?” You ask quietly, your eyebrows furrowing slightly. “But, that was two weeks ago.” You frown.

“I have to assume there's a good reason for it. You know, missions? He wouldn't leave without telling anyone unless something serious came up.” She shrugs. “Then again, he never tells me anything.”

You know how things are different now, things have changed. Maybe he did change, too? You can't help but wonder, you always found him quite mysterious despite his big mouth.

Ever since Geto's departure, Gojo has been going out on more missions. After one is done, he goes for another one. No stopping, no breaks.

You let out a tired sigh, the feeling of anxiousness keeps coming back whenever you're thinking about his whereabouts. “I'm just... worried. You know how it is...”

Shoko puffs her cigarette to the side. “I'm sure he's fine. Just because he's out there hunting curses alone, doesn't mean we should be worried.” She takes another smoke from her cigarette. “Well, I have to say, I'm quite worried for his health. Too much use of his Six Eyes could burn his brain to crisp.”

“I can't believe that I'm saying this but,” you rest your head on your folded arms on the table. “I miss him, Shoko,” you say quietly, looking at the wooden surface of the table up close.

She raised her eyebrow at you. “You miss Gojo?” She pauses, her voice softer. “What could you possibly miss about that guy?” She glances across the table at you.

“Oh, come on.” You groan quietly. “He's annoying, but he's... I don't know, likable?” You say unsurely because you know damn well that everyone in school, and the higher-ups, definitely won't think Gojo is likable. Well, not in a bad way, but he's not exactly unlikeable either.

It's hard to explain because he's just, him. A complex individual. And everybody have their own thoughts about him.

“You have to be kidding.” Shoko looks at you amused. “Likable isn't the word I'd use to describe him.” She pauses. “But, I guess I know what you mean. He's not all that bad once you get used to him.”

“Maybe you missed him because he hasn't been picking on you lately,” she says with a small chuckle as she puts off her cigarette. “Pshh, why would you think that?” You roll your eyes at her suggestion, brushing off her words with a hand gesture.

Then, the table vibrates suddenly. Shoko frowns at the sound of the phone ringing, noticing it was hers. She reaches over and grabs her phone, glancing at the screen. Turns out she was called to the school's infirmary, asking her to heal another sorcerer after a mission.

Shoko sighs and stands up from the table. “Duty calls.” She pauses. “I'll see you later, alright?” She smiles at you, heading off from the classroom after you wave your hand as a farewell.

As you continue to eat your lunch alone, another vibration could be felt from the table, this time it's yours. With a small groan, you look down at your phone in your hands. A text message has appeared on your screen. It's a message from Gojo Satoru.

I'm at school. A simple text to confirm his well-being.

Your eyes light up at the text before you quickly type in, where are you?

You huff when you didn't receive any reply. You haven't seen Gojo in a while so you quickly left your lunch to search for him while you sense his cursed energy.

You found it. You can sense him on the training field. You make your way there to find Gojo. The sky is overcast when you arrive at the training field. The wind blows around you, rustling the grass. When you reach the side of the field, you see a figure standing in the distance, his head angled down. His arms are crossed, creating a shadow across his face.

He glances up as you approach. “You found me.” His voice is calm, his eyes betraying no emotions. “Gojo?” You call out his name quietly. He looks different than the last time you saw him, he looks more somber.

Gojo's eyes meet yours. “Yeah... it's me.” He looks away from you again, “Are you here to scold me? For leaving without telling anyone?” There's a faint edge of bitterness in his voice. “If you came by to scold me for running off, then don't even bother.” His eyes are cold, unreadable.

You were taken aback by the drastic change of attitude. It's not the usual cheery and playful Gojo Satoru you know. “Have you been taking more missions?” You ask carefully like you're walking on eggshells around him. “You look... tired.”

His gaze sharpens as he glances at you. “More missions than usual... yeah.” He pauses, his voice quieter. “I'm trying to keep myself busy.” There's a hint of melancholy in his voice as he talks.

“Some more difficult than others.” His voice trails off. “I don't want to be stuck in my thoughts when I'm at the dorm.” He glances away.

“Right...” You feel awkward after he's done talking. It's just the tone that he uses makes you feel unfamiliar with this ‘new’ Gojo.

“Are you... going on a mission soon?” You ask quietly, hoping he would say no or the very least, not soon. You just want him to rest.

“Yeah,” he replies simply. He glances around the field. “The old geezers keep pushing me to take on more missions, the threat of cursed spirits isn't getting any less. They want me to keep exorcising them." He looks back at you.

“I'm heading out tomorrow to deal with a colony of spirits that have been plaguing the city. It's a relatively small job for me.” His voice is nonchalant as if he were talking about any ordinary night.

“That soon? Shouldn't you be resting after all that missions?” You raise a brow at him.

Gojo turns towards you. “Resting is for the weak.” He crosses his arms, his gaze piercing. “I'm not weak.” He pauses. “I don't need a break.” He glances away from you, his eyes flicking across the training field.

You scoff to the side, shaking your head at his response. ‘He's like a child. So stubborn, too.’ You think. But you can't really blame him for feeling like this.

When he speaks again, his voice sounds more tired. “Besides... if I stop and rest, I'll just go back to thinking about him.” He pauses. “And I don't want that right now.”

“Look,” you try to find a word to convince him, “Just— take a break for a few hours, okay? You can go again later.” You try to persuade him. “The city won't fall apart if you're absent for a while, you know that's not how it works.”

“Of course, I know that.” He lets out an irritated huff. “I'm not stupid. I'm just... busy.” He glances away from you again, his gaze piercing the sky as he thinks.

“Besides, what if the curse spirits get worse while I'm gone? What if they're able to cause some serious damage while I'm sitting in my room on my ass.” He turns his attention back to you. “And you know I can't let that happen.”

“I know that." You let out an exasperated sigh. “There are other capable sorcerers who can take the mission, not just you.” You remind him. You stay quiet for a while, letting out another sigh. “Only for a few hours, please?” You offer again as you take note of how tired he looks.

He scoffs quietly, but his tone is less aggressive than before. “Fine. A few hours.” He sighs in defeat as his hands slip into his pockets.

“Did you come all the way here just to tell me that?” He tilts his head slightly at you. “Maybe.” You shrug nonchalantly, even though deep in your heart, you're worried about him. You want to care for him.

“Can I ask you a question?” His tone is more casual. “Yeah, sure.” You nod at him. Gojo's eyes shift back to the training field. “Why do you care? I thought I was annoying.” The tone of his voice is flat.

“I'm not weak and I don't need your pity. I can handle a few missions.” He tilts his head, his gaze piercing. “Why do you worry for me so much?” His voice is softer, not as cold as before.

“You actually care what I think of you?” You can't help but let out a small chuckle. “I can't deny that.” You ignore his question.

Gojo raises an eyebrow at you, his expression blank. “What's that supposed to mean?” He tilts his head to the side. “Are you trying to imply that I care about what you think of me? If so, I can assure you that isn't true.” He frown. “I don't give a damn about what other people think of me.”

“Right.” You hum casually. “You're the Gojo Satoru after all, why should you care?” You answer back with his words. “For your question, I do care, I won't deny that, too,” you answer him shortly.

His eyes shift back towards you as he listens to your answer. “You care for me?” He tilts his head in disbelief. “You always say I was nothing but annoying and a pain in the ass to you.” He tilts his head to get a better look at you. “Why?”

You smile at his response. ‘You do care what I think after all.’ You think to yourself.

“Well,” you thought of many things to say to him. Anything about him that makes you care for him so much. Anything about him that makes you like him so much. All despite his antics and shenanigans.

You hold your words behind your tongue, thinking that it's best to keep your true feeling hidden from him for now. “Just because,” you say simply, giving him a smile.

His face remains blank as he listens to you. After a moment of silence, a small smirk creeps back onto his face. “That's probably the worst excuse I've ever heard.” He pulls his hands out of his pockets.

“I can tell you're lying.” His smirk quickly turns into another frown. “At least I know you care enough to lie to me.” He narrows his eyes as he looks at you. “Don't be a coward about it. Just admit the reason you care for me. I won't judge you.”

You huff at his response. “I will tell you next time. Now come on, you agreed to take some rest.” You don't know what came after you, but without wasting more time, you grab his hand and lead him away from the training field.

He glances down at your hand as you hold onto his. He looks up at you and sighs. “Are you going to drag me back to the dorm... or something?” He sounds unamused.

However, he doesn't try to pull his hand out of your grasp. He simply follows along as you lead the way in front of him.

“Yeah, got to make sure you're actually going to rest. And what's a better place here than your own room?” You say as you both enter the dorm hall.

He doesn't say anything else as you lead him to his room. He glances up at you as you enter, still holding your hand. Gojo's face softens somewhat.

“What's this about, really? You seem awfully persistent about this.” He tilts his head in curiosity. “You want to cuddle with me or something?”

“What? Pfft, no.” You shake your head with a chuckle. “Now, go, go. Have some sleep.” You open the door of his room, and let his hand go from your hold before pushing him inside. “Just rest, okay? No hard thinking.”

Gojo grumbles with annoyance. “Alright, alright...” He enters the room and sits on his bed. “I'm not thinking too hard.” He looks up at you, crossing his arms. It's like he's a sulking child.

However, after a few seconds, he sighs. He glances down at his room floor, his body language stiff. He plops himself down on his bed and rolls on his back, closing his eyes as he relishes the soft mattress on his back.

“Fuck... I guess I do need that sleep.” He turns around to face you. “Come on, just sit in here with me. I don't think I can sleep with you outside.”

This time, you raise a brow at him. “Huh?” You look at him dumbfounded by his out of nowhere suggestion. “You want me to stay with your or something? I can leave you alone if you want.”

Gojo's eyebrow twitches slightly. “I can handle sleeping alone.” He pauses, his expression shifting once more. “But... it gets lonely at times.”

He looks away from you. “It's... stupid I know, but I don't like the quiet when I'm alone.” His voice dropped to a quiet, hushed whisper.

“So... can you stay?” He shifts on his bed uncomfortably since he knows that this is unlike his usual self. “Please?”

You look at him amused as you lean on the door, internally laughing at his drastic change of attitude. You can't believe your ears when he said ‘please’, but you stay quiet, just wanting to drag this situation longer for your amusement.

It's rare to see him like this. Especially with those eyes and his pout, how can you resist, really?

“Come on... Just stay by my side for 30 minutes. I think if I feel your presence here, I'll feel better. I promise I won't bother you or anything.” He says once more. “Just... give me some company for a while.”

“Besides, I thought you cared for me?” He tilts his head to the side, a hint of tease is evident in his tone. He sits up a bit, resting his back against the pillows, waiting for you.

“Okay, okay.” You push yourself off the door before closing it. You walk towards his bed, and his expression softens as you sit down on his bed.

When he finally speaks, his voice is calm and relaxed. His eyes stare at you, a hint of vulnerability in them. “You know you didn't have to agree right away.”

“You're right,” you answer him lightly, your eyes looking around his room. He looks at you in silence, admiring your side profile before speaking, “Can I ask you another question?”

“Shoot.” you turn your head at him, waiting for his other question.

“Why... do you suddenly care so much for me?” Gojo looks at you seriously. "I know you always thought I was annoying and I didn't care if our relationship was hostile or not, but now you're acting like I'm some sort of important person to you.”

“I don't understand what changed.” He shifts his gaze away from you, turning towards the window instead. “And I don't get why you're trying to hide it either.”

You stare at him quietly, your eyes shifting down to his bed, and then the table beside it before returning to him.

You reach your hand towards his glasses, hooking a finger onto the bridge before taking it off from him gently, revealing the vibrant blue of his eyes, before putting the glasses on the table.

“You want me to answer that?” You ask back as you think how would you answer the question he's been wondering since you meet in the training fields.

Why do you care?

Why should you care?

Why?

“Yes.” He sounds serious as he looks at you again, not blinking. “Because I need to know.”

“You're hiding behind this facade you call ‘cool and laid back’, but it's pretty obvious that you're trying to hide something from me.” He stays quiet for a moment. “Why?”

You're stunned. You glance away, thinking of what you should answer him. And you can't help but think of how lonely he actually is to the point he seems to be in disbelief that someone does genuinely care for him.

He motions for you to go on. “So? Answer the question.” He sounds impatient, his expression still hard. His gaze doesn't waver as he waits for you to explain yourself.

“I don't know how to explain it to you." You finally answer. “I just care, I really do. Shoko, too, and Yaga as well. Even Nanami who always looks so annoyed around you. Those who are close to you care about you, Gojo. You're our friend.”

He furrowed his eyebrows at your answer. “I never asked you to care about me.” He sounds blunt as he glances back down at the bed, trying to ignore you for a few moments.

He stays quiet again, thinking about your answer. “You don't know how to explain it, huh?” He sighs. “So your only response is to keep being vague and beat around the bush.” He narrows his eyes at you.

“Are you saying that you feel that you have an obligation to care about me because you know people who also do?” He's clearly annoyed by your answer. “Are you doing it out of guilt?” He sounds irritated as he gazes out of the window.

You let out another exasperated sigh at his response. It's clear that he doesn't really get this concept of care from other people.

His clan doesn't care for him as a person, let alone the elders. He grows up spoiled rotten, not out of care, but out of obligation. That's just how it is.

“That's not it!” You raise your voice in annoyance to deny his words. His bad mood starting to affect your own. “What's so hard to understand for you that I genuinely care? It's my choice to care for you because I just do!”

Gojo stays quiet as he listens to you snap at him. A slight frown comes onto his face when he hears your tone. “You just care? Just like that. There's nothing else behind it.” His voice is incredulous as he glares at you.

“Just give me a straight answer.” His eyes scan over you, looking for something. He stares at you defiantly, waiting for your response.

You look at him in disbelief before scoffing, “What else do you want me to say? ‘I like you that's why I care’ or something?” You shake your head after you said the first line mockingly.

“Yes, that's exactly what I want you to say.” His voice is sharp as he continues to glare at you. “Or at least, something along those lines.” He mumbles the finishing sentence.

“I want to know why you care for me. Tell me why.” He seems determined to get you to answer. His eyes narrow further, his gaze piercing. “You're not leaving this room until you give me an answer.”

“Fine, alright, since you're so damn stubborn about it.” You roll your eyes in annoyance. “I care for you as a friend, and I also care for you because I like you more than just a friend. There, happy?” you answer.

“You're so insufferable,” you grumble to yourself, crossing your arms and your body turning away from him.

Gojo looks at you with wide eyes as he tries to process what you just said. His shock continues to linger, making it difficult for him to speak. He looks taken aback at your response, and a smile breaks out on his face. “You like me?” His voice sounds soft, his tone completely shifting.

He scoots closer to you on the bed, almost hesitant. “Is that why you care for me?” He glances at you over your shoulder. “Am I hearing this right?”

After a moment, he leans forward and rests his head on your shoulder. “Thank you.” He sounds genuine as he continues to lean on you. You were stunned once more, but this time because of his unusual tone.

You stay quiet at his reaction, your heart beating fast as you try to process what's going on with his head resting on your shoulder. “Are you pretending to be clueless or are you just that oblivious?” You huff, not looking at him. Your face is heating up when you just realized what you said earlier.

“I'm not pretending to be clueless.” Gojo's voice is softer, almost gentle. “I've always wondered if you care for me as a friend or if there's a hidden meaning behind it. I was hoping it's the latter, but I kept denying it to myself."

He remains still in his position, comfortably leaning against you. His gaze studies your face intently. He scoots even closer to you, his arm wrapping around your waist from behind.

“I like you too,” he whispers. He closes his eyes, nuzzling his face against your shoulder. Gojo's lips curl into a smile as he takes a slow, comfortable breath. You turn your head to the side to take a look at him.

“I've been dropping hints at you since forever, but I've always told myself it must have been a mistake when you replied the same way.” His face is still buried onto your shoulder as he speaks. “I always wondered if you secretly liked me too.”

You could only listen in silence, and your body slowly turning to him from the edge of the bed. You notice his eyes flick down toward your lips. “Am I that clueless, or did I know this whole time?” He pauses and glances back over his shoulder at your face. “It's hard to tell.”

His lips curls upwards as he stares at you, and slowly leans forward towards you. He doesn't look away, watching your face with intent.

His words are quiet, a gentle whisper. “What would you do if I suddenly kissed you right now?”

You didn't expect telling him to rest would end up to this. You stayed here because he asked you to company him, not at all imagining that this would be the place and time where the feelings would flow out.

“You do realize you should be resting by now, right?" You ask back, your voice equally quiet. You admire his handsome face up close. His eyes hold power and beauty, down to the shape of his nose, and down to his plump, pink lips.

Gojo grin at your words. “I can always go to sleep after. I think I have time for this.” His eyes flicker along your jaw, your neck, your lips. His breathing speeds up with each glance.

But finally, he leans in, his lips just a single inch away from touching yours. His eyes flicker downwards one last time. “Would you kiss me back?” He whispers, his voice just barely audible as if the volume was intentionally silenced.

“I don't know, would I?” You ask back again, secretly enjoying the closeness of your faces.

“Only one way to find out...” His eyes flutter closed as he leans forward. His lips touch yours for a brief moment, just a quick taste to test the waters. It's enough to make your heart skip a beat. His lips move slowly at first, but soon he presses his lips more on yours. He keeps one of his arms wrapped tighter around your waist to press his body more against your own, and the other one goes up to hold the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

Gojo's lips are soft and tender on yours, and he slowly runs his tongue against your mouth. His eyes are closed, but he knows where you are. He's focused entirely on how your lips feel against his. You could feel the way his tongue brushing against your lips, and pushing it lightly to part them open for him. You let out a small hum of contentment, feeling the lips of the man you've liked for quite a while is definitely a dream come true.

His tongue slips into your mouth, moving slowly against yours in a slow and gentle dance, his tongue brushing against yours and exploring every corner of your mouth. His breathing quickening ever so slightly as his body leans into yours. His hands go up to the back of your head as he continues to kiss you. As he tastes you, his kisses become more intense and more passionate. 

Once you feel the lack of air in your long, you pull back from the kiss, “Gojo—” you call out to him. He lets out a soft groan at your voice, and slowly pulls away, but only a little. “Satoru.” He corrects you, his lips remain close to yours as he runs his tongue along your lower lip. He pulls away again a little bit, and stares back at you. “What is it?” 

He catches his breath and lick his lips, which are now parted slightly and slightly moist from his saliva. He's more excited than he's been in a long time, like he finally got a breath of fresh air after being stuck underground. “I've wanted to kiss you for ages,” he says quietly, his expression still soft. His eyes flicker down to your lips and he smiles. “You taste delicious.”

“Thanks, you do, too.” You chuckle before pulling away and grabbing the blanket to cover him. “Now, time for bed.” You tuck him in like you're tucking a little child to sleep.

“Hey, what are you doing?” He complains as the blanket is pulled over him and wrapped him up in it. “I thought you said you cared for me! Why am I getting tucked in like a kid?” He looks up at you, his voice full of mock outrage. “I want kiss.” He pouts at you. 

‘He even whines like a child.’ You let out a chuckle at his antics. You ignore him, not giving him the kiss just yet.

“That's why I'm tucking you to bed, Satoru.” You adjust the blanket on his body, staring at his messy hair on the bed. His heart does a small flip, but he quickly hides it as he hears what you say.

He doesn't oppose as you cover him with the blanket. In fact, he looks like a contented child, enjoying the warmth of the blanket and your closeness to him. “How are you going to get sleepy now? I just gave you a big reason to stay awake.”

“Hush, it's time to sleep.” You answer immediately, earning you another look from him.

The covers rustle as he moves around, making himself more comfortable under the blankets. He reaches his hand out to you from under the covers. “Could I pull you in? With me? I don't want you to leave just yet.”

You nod at him. “I'll hold you to my chest instead, okay? You need some comfort now.” You place a hand on his cheek before caressing the soft skin with your thumb. “I will give it to you,” you add quietly, knowing well when you once again see closely to his tired face.

“You want to hold me?” He chuckles quietly. “I wouldn't want anything else.” His eyes flutter shut again as you run your thumb across his cheek. His body begins to relax as he enjoys your touch. “You're so sweet...” He mumbles quietly.

He let out a quiet sigh, his eyes still closed. “When did I begin to be so lucky? To have someone care for me so much?” He leans more onto your hand on his cheek, enjoying your gentle touch.

Gojo waits for you to lay down and get comfortable before pulling the covers over you both. After a moment, he lets his body settle closer to your own, letting you cradle him. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close. His face is pressed against your chest. 

You brush your fingers on his soft white hair, holding him close to you. You massage his head slightly once in a while. “You deserve it, Satoru. You really do,” you whisper onto his forehead before kissing it, your lips linger there for a while.

Gojo shudders a bit at your touch. He presses himself closer to you, letting his body sink into the comfort of your embrace. His hand brushes up and down your waist lovingly. You lift your head for a bit to give him another kiss on the temple.

“Mmm...” He sighs contently as he leans into you. His body sinks into yours, becoming one with the comfort and warmth of your touch. His eyes stay closed and his body becomes even more relaxed.

After a moment of silence and you thought he has already fallen asleep, he speaks again, “Do I?” He asks quietly, not quite believing what you just said.

“What am I really good for in the first place other than fighting cursed spirits?” A shadow of doubt flickered across his face. “Am I more than just a strong sorcerer?” 

You keep caressing his hair to bring him comfort. “You're more than just ‘The Strongest Sorcerer’. You're a human. A kind one deep down,” you answer him quietly. “Despite your upbringing." You add with a hint of playfulness as your hand goes down to pinch his nose between your finger before going back up. “And yes, you do deserve it. Never doubt that.”

His ears turns red as he hears your soft answer. He tries to hide it, but you can tell from his body language that he's happy.

“You think I'm kind?” He asks again, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I thought that's something I wasn't.” He chuckles. “Does it show when I'm with you?”

“It shows to other people without you realizing it. I know because I see it myself.” You give him another kiss on the forehead.

He takes in a few breaths as you hold him close, his face inches away from your chest. “It feels so nice to just... not be alone for a while.” His voice is soft and quiet, unlike the usual Gojo Satoru who annoys others for his entertainment.

You answer with a hum. He had lost his best friend, the one that sticks with him through thin and thick on every mission and obstacle. He had lost someone who doesn't makes him feel like he was alone.

“Can I ask you something else? This is the last one, I promise,” he mumbles onto your chest. “You ask a lot of questions today. What is it?” You chuckle but let him ask anyway.

“Why do you keep defending me?” He murmurs. “Why do you care whether I think I deserve it or not?” He tilts his head up to look back at you. “All of these compliments you keep giving me... what are you getting out of this exactly?” He waits for your response, his expression serious.

‘Here we go again.’ You sigh, and this time, you smile at his other why question. There is so much he wants to know, so much he needs to know. If that is what brings him comfort, then you'd gladly give the answer to him.

“Because... I love you.” You hush him up with a kiss, not caring that you just used a strong expression of words. “There, now go to sleep.” You hope this would clear his doubts, at least for a while.

His eyes widen at your reply, his expression is completely frozen after hearing your words. “What?” He asks quietly, wanting to make sure he heard it correctly. “You... love me?” 

After taking a few moments to compose himself, he slowly leans up and kisses you again. He kisses you passionately, putting the last of his energy into kissing your lips.

As he pulls away, he looks back at you. His eyes glimmer with tears that have yet to fall. “You love me?” He whispers again.

“Yes. I do.” You nod at him with a smile. Your thumb brushes against his cheek once more, shifting a bit up to caress the skin below his eye, looking into his teary eyes.

His head sinks into the crook of your neck as a tear rolls down his cheek. “Y-You love me?” He murmurs once more, sounding overwhelmed with emotion as he looks back up at you. “What am I supposed to do when the person I like, the person I've been thinking about this entire time, actually loves me back?”

“Hmmm, I wonder.” You caress the back of his hair, your fingers brushing against his hair, as you let him hide his face in the crook of your neck again. 

He presses himself against you, his body flushes against yours. His arms around your waist tighten its hold. He buries his face against your neck as he nuzzles into your skin.

He closes his eyes and presses his lips against your neck, enjoying the comfort of the moment. “Your skin is... so much warmer than I imagined it'd be.” He whispers to you. His lips graze against your neck as he presses in.

“Can you... Can you hold me for a bit longer?” He whispers. “Could I sleep in your arms for a while more?” You kiss his forehead once again. “I can hold you for as long as you want me to.” You assure him.

His face lights up when he hears your answer. “For as long as I want you to?” He sounds surprised. His arms squeeze around your waist. “Do you promise you won't tire of me? I might not want to leave.”

“Then, don't leave. I want you here with me.” You say quietly. Now that you have him, you want him all for yourself, and you promise yourself to never let him go.

He smiles at your words and nuzzles your neck with his lips. “Well, my favorite place in the world is close to you.” He wraps himself fully around you and buries his face in your shoulder, wanting nothing more than to stay like this for a while.

“I'll never get tired of you, never.” You assure him again. A smile breaks out on his face as a soft chuckle escapes his lips. “You'll never get tired of me?” He whispers to you, his words coming out soft and sweet. He holds you tighter to him, his face still buried against your neck. “Don't make promises you can't keep. I think I'm just that easy to dislike.”

“Not me. Nothing else should matter. I like you, and I love you. I could only hope that's enough to ease you, even just a bit.” You nuzzle your nose on his forehead.

He smiles at you, his eyes slowly fluttering close. “That's more than enough to ease me.” His voice trails off as he lets himself fall asleep. His breathing deepens as he enters into a peaceful slumber.

He's truly comfortable in your arms, his body relaxed against you. He's happy to be with you, happy to be held by you, and happy to be cared for by you.

He dreams that when he wakes up, you would pamper him with the love and care he'd always wanted. A genuine feeling that has managed to warm a place in his heart that he never knew he needed, all that in you, the person he loves.

Let me just test the waters (˃ ᵕ ˂) I'm soft for him.

[aciddrattboyy]

love & war

after getting upset with your bf over him beating someone up, he decides to make it up to you. in a library....

ryusei x f! reader ☆ smut ☆ wc: 3.3k cw: fingering, public sex, exhibitionism(?), dirty talk(?) [college au!] a/n: i had sm fun writing this its prob my fav work as of rn frfr im in love with ryusei

☆

“where’re you off to,” ryusei's voice seemingly came out of nowhere as he materialized next to you. walking in pace with you as you rushed through the campus courtyard to the bus stop. 

“somewhere youre not, ryusei,” your tone was dry, not bothering to give him the satisfaction of looking at him. you heard him make a mock, exaggerated sound of hurt as he brought a hand up to his heart. 

“why so formal,” you could practically hear him pouting and under different circumstances you wouldve found it cute. but not now, while you were still upset with him over the events that happened a couple nights prior. “what happened to ryu or baby or love or honey or daddy-,” you spun on your heels, glaring at him as your face began to heat. he stood there, a dumb look of innocence on his face with his hands stuffed into his black shorts.

“shut up,” you grit through your clenched jaw, readjusting your bag as you turned back around, knowing you’d be screwed if you missed this bus. but ryusei had other plans, side stepping you and cutting you off.

“are you still mad,” he asked simply, in a way that sounded like you were the one being dramatic. you scoffed, shaking your head as you tried to move past him. but it was never that easy with him, getting stopped once more by his towering frame in front of you.

“i need to get on the bus,” you tried to reason with him, but the way his smile only grew made you realize that was a bad decision. 

“i’ll let you go if you give me a kiss,” he puckered his lips comically, pushing his face towards you. within a split second, you decided this wasnt worth it; quickly walking back the way you came in hopes of being able to find a friend or even an acquaintance willing to give you a lift. ryusei hurried after you, hands coming out of his pockets to wave them in surrender. “okay, okay, okay how ‘bout i just give you a ride,” much to ryusei’s delight, you stopped in your tracks as you seriously contemplated it. on one hand, you were still upset with him. on the other, you wouldnt have to worry about creepy men on a crowded bus or pleading with someone else to take you. 

“fine-,”

“yay!” ryusei was quick to drape his arm over your shoulder, navigating both of you to the parking lot. “so where’re you headed princess,” his overly sweet tone was annoying you. you thought about lying, having him drop you off somewhere close and walk the rest of the way. but after thinking about it for more than two seconds, you realized that wouldnt work on him. 

“the library,” you kept your hands on the strap of your bag, not wanting to play into his games. 

“oh ew,” he said quickly, detaching himself from your hip to open the passenger door for you, closing it after you got in. ryusei may piss you off more often than you wouldve maybe liked, but you couldnt deny he was still a gentleman most of the time. lightly jogging to the other side and hopping into the drivers side, he shot you a smile. “why’re we going to the library,”

you were in the middle of connecting your phone to his cars bluetooth, seeing your contact name ‘my baby’ on the small screen before you paused. ryusei's lips twitched into a smile just for a moment, seeing you be so comfortable around him despite how angry you were. 

“we?” you repeated, glancing at him in disbelief before you started scrolling through your plethora of playlists. 

“yes we,” he said quickly, turning on the car and backing out of the lot. “are you hungry?” he asked absentmindedly. for the first time since seeing you to he wasnt teasing you or trying to get even more under your skin. he was still your boyfriend after all and your health was important to him.  

“already ate,” you mumbled.

“when?” his eyes were on the rode, one hand on the steering wheel in a way he recalled you saying was attractive once before. he glanced at you, seeing you reach in his glovebox for the spare phone charger you stashed in there months prior. 

“like an hour ago,” you relaxed back into the seat, noticing how it was still reclined the way you had it last time you were in here. grabbing your phone. after ryusei nodded in response you decided to just put one of your playlists on shuffle. almost as if you were in some weird romcom, the first song to play was one of the first songs you ever recommended to ryusei when you were still in a sort of talking stage; the only way you knew how to flirt at the time being to share spotify playlists. 

ryusei who also remembered how this song was apart of your relationship origin story, smiled to himself. humming along and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat.  the two of you fell into a somewhat comfortable silence. if you could forget how ryusei broke a guys nose and gave him a concussion for simply offering you a drink and then saying he did it for you, it would almost be a normal day.

you unbuckled your seatbelt as he pulled into the parking lot, grabbing your bag and opening the door once he stopped pulled into a spot. just as you were getting ready to give him your thanks, you heard him put the car in park and watched as he got out of the car. 

“what i said i was coming,” he shrugged his shoulders as you squinted your eyes at him. “oh,” he quickly cleared his throat, putting a hand over his heart and the other up by his shoulder. “i solemnly swear i will not break someones nose if they offer you a book,” 

“youre not funny,” you said lowly, scoffing as you made your way to the entrance. ryusei quickly got into step with you, easily slipping his hand in yours. 

“i was just being truthful,” pushing the door open for you, he watched as you took a crumpled piece of paper out of your pocket, reading it from over your shoulder. “are those the books you need?” he asked after reading the list. you only nodded, looking around the building as you tried to find where you should even start your search. ryusei knew you’d rather search the shelves for hours than ask for help and and he really didnt want to watch you go through hundreds of books before you could find the ones you need, so he snatched the list out of your hand, quickly turning away before you could take it back. “i’ll get these for you go find somewhere to sit,” 

“do you even know how a library works,”  

“no but unlike you i’ll ask for help- now go find somewhere to sit,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, making his way deeper inside the building before you could even respond. letting out a heavy exhale through your nose, you went the opposite direction, towards the study rooms and tables. 

you came across a corner with a small booth. the lighting was kind of bad but you’d rather have strained eyes than be confronted by yet another person who saw your boyfriend bloody a somewhat innocent man. you placed your bag on far side of the table, sliding into the booth with your back towards the wall and pulling out your phone. 

to your surprise, ryusei came walking over with a stack of books in his arms quicker than you thought he would. his face was turned away, using his most polite smile and tone to thank the elderly lady who helped him. you almost laughed when you saw the facade drop when he turned his attention on you. 

“here are all of your old, nasty smelling books,” he dropped them on the table with a small thud, ignoring your fleeting look of alarm at the noise. “librarians are actually very helpful,” he spoke while sliding into the booth next to you, smoothly draping his arm over the back of the creaky cushion.

“well thanks for your help,” you grabbed the heavy stack of books, pulling them closer to you and reading off the titles as you mentally checked off your list. “can you hand me my-”

“here,” he was already grabbing your laptop before you could finish asking, placing it in front of you before fishing his phone out of his pocket. you were grateful that he tamed his annoying tendencies when it came time for you to actually get to work. he sat next to you quietly, his side still glued to yours as he popped an earbud in and scrolled through tiktok. you put your own headphones on, quickly connected them to your phone and turning on your study playlist before opening your laptop and getting to work. 

ryusei was able to give it about three hours before he truly got bored. it was already dark out and he was running out of things to do. when he got tired of staring at his phone, he took a nap. when he woke up to you still working, he briefly stepped out to get you guys coffee and something to snack on. when he got back from the bathroom after chugging his drink in three seconds you were still typing away on your laptop. all of the books were open to pages you had marked, taking up almost all of the table space. he groaned and was mildly disappointed when he gained no response from you since your headphones were drowning out any outside noise. 

rolling his now sore neck thanks to his nap, he tried to think of something to do before he started bouncing off the walls. then his eyes landed on your thighs and suddenly he had the perfect idea. he knew he’d have to be careful about this, coming on too strong would make you all panicky. he had to take it slow. 

unceremoniously, he moved his hand from over the booth to his lap, readjusting his now half-hard cock in his basketball shorts. he slowly moved a hand to your thigh, rubbing small circles over the bare skin. he was silently thanking the weather for making you choose to wear shorts as he grabbed his phone off of the small portion of the table you so graciously left for him. 

you werent alarmed by his initial touch, it seemed harmless. you already knew ryusei was a touchy person and if anything you were surprised he was being so tame up until this point. that was until his hand rode up a little higher. it wouldve probably been noticeable if it wasnt for the fact that his fingers were now skimming just under your shorts. your head snapped towards him, taking your headphones off as you watched him stare at his phone. unfortunately for him, the sly smile tugging on his lips gave him away,

“whatre you doing,” you whispered, suspicion laced in your tone. he then looked at you, trying to use that same polite, innocent smile that he used on the librarian. 

“im just watching youtube-”

“you know what i mean,” you cut him off, not willing to put up with his bullshit. 

“no im not sure i do,” he squeezed your thigh lightly, letting you know that he in fact did know. this didnt stop him though, massaging your exposed skin as his fingers grew closer and closer to where he wanted to be. your thighs clenched as his middle finger slid over the crotch of your shorts, humming in delight at your bodys response. 

“behave,” you whispered through your teeth, turning back to your essay. but try as you may, you were not able to focus anymore. words blurring together as ryusei continued his little stuny, cupping your covered cunt. now that his charade was up, he completely disregarded his phone, eyes solely on you to watch every micro change on your face as you tried to keep it together. 

his hand traveled up to your waistband, not wasting any time before moving past both your shorts and panties. ryusei's smile was wicked as he pressed down on your clit, sliding down your slit. 

“well it seems like youre the one who needs to behave,” he spoke lowly against your ear, his middle finger just barely pressing into your fluttering walls. ryusei knew he was being a massive hypocrite. one glance over and you’d see his dick pressing almost painfully against his own shorts. but he enjoyed seeing you get embarrassed so he really didnt care. 

“youre awful,” your voice was strained, face heating up with a mix of fear and lust. you didnt know what you’d do if you were caught but it probably would involve your funeral. your insult only spurred ryusei on, dipping a finger inside you. he cursed under his breath, feeling how tight you were around him causing blood to run straight to his dick as he thought about how you felt around him when he fucked you. 

his free hand reach for your leg, hooking it over his to give him easier access. there was something extremely hot about how you didnt stop him. how you didnt want him to stop. it was evident in the way your hand clung onto his forearm. or more so in the way your hips were now rocking against his hand playing with your pussy, clit grinding against his palm. you didnt dare look at him, scared that if you did things would escalate even further. 

“youre pretty filthy arent you?” his tone was just plain mean, pushing two fingers in you without warning. he crooked them inside you before setting a slow, tortuous pace. “you say im awful but youre the one humping my hand,”

“ryu-” you whined softly, burying your head in your arms as if trying to hide yourself. his humiliating words made you clench around his fingers, silently willing him to go faster. he was moving painfully slow and you craved more. 

“ah there it is,” he clicked his tongue before roughly pressing the heel of his palm against your throbbing clit. “i see we’ve now dropped the formalities,” his fingers fucked into you just a bit faster. if you listened closely you could here the muffled squelching behind your shorts. “if i knew it would take a couple fingers in your pussy to make you drop the attitude i wouldve done this sooner,” 

this caused you to whip your head towards him, ready to tell him he wasn’t off the hook just for making you feel good. but this was a part of ryusei's plan, immediately catching your lips with his before you could even speak a word. the kiss was messy. bullying his tongue into your mouth as he added a third finger inside of you. you got lost in the pleasure of it all, small moans muffled by his lips as your hips eagerly bucked into his hand. 

ryusei was the one to break the kiss, pulling away slowly with your bottom lip caught between his teeth for just a moment before he let go. he loved the way your lips were now glossy and puffy because of him. he was about to smash his lips against yours again until he saw something interesting in his peripheral. 

“look over there,” he cocked his head, motioning for you to look in that direction as his smile grew wider. there was the guy he beat the shit out of just a few days ago. ryusei just couldnt believe his luck, praying to any god up there that decided to smile upon him this one time. he turned his attention back to you, seeing how mortified you looked as you ogled the poor boy sitting on the other side of the room. he was just barely in view, the bandages over his nose leaving no room for doubt. ryusei slowly pulled his fingers out just enough to thrust them back in and get a reaction from you. you had to slap a hand over your mouth to keep quiet as he curled his fingers, hitting that spongy spot inside of you that would have you mewling under different circumstances. “do you think he saw,” ryusei's tone was different now, a lot less light hearted and more so possessive. his smile was downright intimidating as he saw worry paint your face. “i bet he wishes he was me,” he continued on, leaning over and whispering in your ear as you tried to hide yourself again. 

the grip you had on ryusei's arm only tightened as you neared your release, his dirty words accompanying his now brutal pace in your cunt becoming too much. ryusei had been prepared to draw this out, wanting to see you whine and beg for him to make you cum. but now he desperately needed to see you come undone while the idiot who tried to get with you was there. ryusei knew it was petty, but he didnt care. hooking a finger under your chin, he lifted your head, forcing to look at the guy who had simply offered you a drink at a party. he was typing away on his computer, most likely not even aware that the guy who sent him to the hospital was here. 

“ryu- wait-,” your whines sounded pathetic, even to your own ears as you felt the knot in your stomach only grow tighter. you shivered as he placed a wet kiss on your neck, lightly nipping at your skin.

“how do you think he’d feel if he knew what you were doing? such a dirty girl getting off on your boyfriends fingers in front of another guy,” whispering into your ear, ryusei was probably enjoying this even more than you and he wasnt even the one getting fucked. the tent in his pants had grown painfully tight but he decided it was definitely worth it. your thighs were trembling, your lips parted as you got closer to an orgasm. 

he let out a low groan, feeling the way you were clenching down on him. having had much experience with making you cum, he knew you were close. pulling his fingers out, he messily rubbed at your clit. watching with sickening pleasure as you hunched over, hands flying to grip the edge of the table as you came undone.

“atta girl thats it,” his voice was husky, dripping with pure lust as he helped you ride out your high. he only stopped when your hips started to jerk away from him because of the overstimulation. you looked beautifully fucked out as he pulled his hands out of your underwear, making sure to keep eye contact as he sucked each of his fingers clean. 

“you cant be serious,” you were in disbelief, absolutely mortified at ryusei’s display. burying your head in your hands out of embarrassment after he just shrugged his shoulders in response. 

“well,” he got out of the booth, stacking all of the now discarded books. “i think you’ve done enough work for today,” he couldnt bite back his smile even if he tried, being rather proud of himself  for all the hard work he’s done. “how about i go put these away and you go wait out in the car- or will you need help walking,” 

you flipped him off as you slid out after him, knowing you weren’t going to be able to live this down anytime soon. you followed him silently as he walked over to the return bin, not daring to look back where ryusei’s victim was sitting. 

“i hope you guys had a productive night,” the librarian said innocently, all too happy to take the books off of ryusei’s hand. with one glance at you, his smile only grew 

“we most certainly did,” 

i hope you enjoyed !! reblogs/comments are very much appreciated <3

[abiatackerman]

Sweet Banters

⚔️Levi Ackerman X Female Scout Reader⚔️

Canon universe! Comedy! Flirting! Fluff! 1.1K words!

Summary: Levi scolds you for skipping meals, for not taking care of yourself. Instead of taking his concern seriously you tease Levi by calling him "Princess" and "Pookie", flustering him to your heart's content......

Tags: @laevieee @spouseofleviackerman @levisbrat25 @itsnathateasy @violentvaleska @anti-cupid @meowmewow7 @mikabella7

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Levi walks into the medical room, with a clearly pissed expression on his face. The soldiers who he passes by look at him worriedly since it's rare he gets angry or pissed. But they don't give it too much thought since it isn't uncommon for him to visit infirmary as he gets hurt often and comes here for checkup regularly. But today, he is here for a different reason…

He pauses in the doorway, watching you work quietly, then enters without knocking.

"You know that's bad for your health...."

His voice is stern as usual as he finally speaks.

"Huh?"

You say as you look at him with confusion and suddenly remember that you skipped your meals due to the pressure of work.

"Oh that? Haha didn't think you'd know. Don't worry I'm used to it."

Levi's eyes darken at your response and crossing his arms over his chest he slowly approaches you.

"Used to it?! Being a doctor, you should realize you have to take care of yourself first. What the hell are you putting yourself to?"

He demanded, tone sharp.

"Wow wow.... Stop... Don't be a mom."

You chuckle at his sweet demands.

"Are you angry? Sorry, I didn't mean to make you angry. But I had a lot of work to do..."

Levi's already darkened expression darkens even further. He steps closer to you before he speaks again.

"Damn right I'm angry. I'm worried and annoyed you'd prioritize others above yourself even when you know you'll be no use to us if you get sick."

He growls, grabbing your chin, tilting your head up until both of your eyes meet.

"Why don't you care about your own wellbeing? Stop being an annoying brat, women!"

You chuckle at his unusual behaviour and grip his wrist which is gripping your chin. You speak in a sweet innocent tone that makes Levi more pissed.

"Careful captain, I might think you like me."

Levi scowls, his hand moves from your chin to your shoulder. His eyes are narrowed.

"Careful, brat! Wouldn't be wise to tease me right now."

He warns, his voice is low and sharp. He can almost feel his patience thinning.

"I know how to calm you down."

Levi's eyes narrow in disbelief at your words. ‘Calm him down?’ He wanted to scoof but he decided to know what you have on your sleeves since he's feeling curious. He gives you his usual stoic look.

"How exactly are you going to ‘calm me down’?"

He asks, there's a bit of curiosity in his tone.

You smile and bow as you take his wrist gently and kiss it's back.

Levi just froze.

"Forgive me princess, sorry I skipped meals. It's just a natural thing for me."

You speak in a manly tone, trying to suppress your laughter.

Levi still can't believe you just called him 'PRINCESS?!' No one ever did this before so he doesn't know how he should act.

But it's sure as hell he's feeling insulted.

"What the fuck was that?"

He muttered, eyes narrowing as the corner of his mouth twitched. He removes his hand from your grip and you can imagine his veins are jumping due to how pissed he actually is.

"You know what, captain? I believe I'm the only one in this world who has the audacity to tease you. So you better be careful and mind your own business if you don't wanna be pissed."

You say, laughing as you wink and press a kiss on his cheek and move away.

Levi freezes again, his whole body tensed as he feels the kiss. His pale cheeks flushes a little and he lifts his hand slowly, his fingers gently touching the spot where your lips had just been.

'When did she get so damn bold?!' he asks himself. He knows it's practically his own fault though... For behaving more gently and less coldly when it comes to you.... You've become more bold....

But what can he do? That damn cute face of yours.... That innocent smile... He just can't be rude facing this damn beautiful woman.

"The hell…"

He mutters, his heart pounding in his chest.

"What? Don't tell me you've never been kissed on the cheeks before."

You laugh as you sit on your chair making Levi glare at you. He does that to hide his shyness. As his cheeks flush a bit more, he quickly averts his eyes in a poor attempt to hide it. Damn it, why are you so bold? He suddenly feels like he is an inexperienced teenager again, nervous and flustered under his crush's teasing.

He shakes the thoughts, crossing his arms over his chest, trying to regain his composure.

"Well it's damn sure not something that happens often… Unlike useless you the female soldiers have much to do other than kissing my cheek."

He mutters, avoiding eye contact with you.

"I bet a lot of them want to kiss you like me, in my free time. But since they're cowards, they fear you. They should not... You're just a Pookie who deserves kisses. Our cute adorable princess."

Levi just goes stiff once again. Your words, coupled with the sweet tone, has something stirring in his chest.

He wants to snap at you again. Tell you to stop. But damn… That would mean telling you to stop calling him all these useless, embarrassing, lame, cute, affectionate names. And honestly, he can’t deny that they felt… Good. It feels nice to hear you call him those things.

He lets out an irritated huff as he pushes a hand through his hair.

"If you're gonna skip your meal next time.... I swear I'll drag your ass to the mass hall myself and will feed you in the most humiliating way possible in front of the brats. So you better not skip you meals again."

Before you can say anything he walk out of the door, shutting it behind him. A smile creeps up on his face.

He wanted to argue more with you... Maybe wanted you to flirt with him a bit more too.... But he has a lot of paperworks to do.

Sighing, he walks to his office, cursing Erwin for ruining his day with the shitty work.........

[deviantdaffodil]

lust

miguel o’hara x reader smut

im actually genuinely obsessed and deeply worried about my mental health . the grip spiderman 2099 has on me is unwavering and im afraid i will never get to escape

contains: breeding, marking/biting, office sex, spontaneous sex, stress relief sex fr, clawing, size difference, slightly jealous miguel, very dominating miguel, im obsessed with miguel, a more in character miguel this time i hope

A deep sigh escapes your throat. You really did not have to deal with O’hara right now; it’s been a long day. Sure, you were thankful he allowed you to stay in the spider society occasionally, despite just being a normal civilian, but god did he aggravate you. Often. He called you to his office for god knows what reason. You were anxious as you entered the office. Anyone in their right mind would be.

He gazes down at you, his stare is cold and his face is stoic. “Glad you could make it,” his tone is hard to read. He didn’t sound upset. But he also didn’t sound glad to see you. You keep quiet, deciding to just let him speak. His eyes are piercing through the dimly lit room; the sun was setting so the sky didn’t do much in terms of lighting the room up. Miguel continues to glare down at you, silent and judgmental. Instead of just allowing his platform to slowly make its way down to you, Miguel simply lunges down to you. He stands before you, still towering over you. His lack of communication was making you anxious as he would usually tear someone in here a new one if need be. He silently slips his arm around your waist and shoots a web up, bringing you both up to where his desk is located.

After being set down you recompose yourself with a chuckle. “I’m- I’m never gonna get used to that..” You pause for a moment, choosing your next words carefully. Heat radiated off your body and Miguel’s too. He still had his arm around you and you were too locked in place by a mix of fear and shock to move. “What is it that you wanted to see me about?” You look up at him.

He exhaled. He felt like he needed that. “This- This isn’t easy.. to admit,” Miguel mumbles. The claws of his suit had a grip on your waist, but you were still too paralyzed by shock to do anything. “I.. I want you all to myself. If I could keep you up here all to myself without seeming insane, I would, in a heartbeat.” He looks down at you, his eyes locking with yours.

This was absolutely news to you. You yourself had a thing for Miguel for the longest time. But you had no idea he wanted you this bad. Your mouth sat agape as he spoke to you. The Miguel O’hara.. wants you? All to himself? You would hang out with him while he worked sometimes, but you definitely didn’t see this kind of thing coming, especially not from someone as professional as him.

He turns to you, putting his hands on your shoulders. His gaze was fiery and he dug his claws into your shoulders. “You’re just.. such a relaxer to me. When you’re around, I don’t worry about all of.. this,” he motions to his desk. “But you.. you. You make it all better.” A growl rumbles in this throat. “I have a request- a-a suggestion maybe.”

Your jaw still hangs open. You shut your jaw and blink repeatedly. “What.. do you have in mind?”

A flash of excitement streaks across his face. “Sex,” he blatantly stated. He didn’t try to sugar coat it or anything. He wanted to fuck you more than anything. Even now, seeing you look up at him like that, in utter shock as he grips your shoulders has his cock aching. “I’m so.. so tired of seeing you with other spidermen. I need you.”

You paused, completely baffled. “Y-Yes!” You cried out, a little too eager for your liking. You hated to admit it, but you absolutely wanted him. “I-I mean, yes. Yes I’m okay with that.” Miguel did not hesitate. His claws immediately ripped open your clothes, exposing your chest. Miguel’s claws retracted and he immediately attacked your chest, latching his lips onto one of your nipples, the other being massaged by his hand. “O-Oh my god!” Your impulse cry of ecstasy caused Miguel to groan.

He peppered kisses up your neck, his big, calloused hands massaging your breasts. “I’m going to make you mine,” his lips are right next to your ear, his voice is low and husky. “Can I bite you?” You nodded, lost in the feeling of his fingers massaging your nipples. He groans as he drags his fangs across your skin before burying them into the crook of your neck. You let out a moan. His fangs sunk deep into your flesh, he was very careful not to release any venom though. He wanted to make sure you felt every bit of what he was about to do to you. The stinging sensation of the bite slowly faded to pleasure. He keeps his mouth latched onto your neck, sliding his hand down your body and letting his hand rest on your ass, squeezing gently. He pulls his fangs out of you, blood dripping from them now. You look into his eyes and bite your lip.

“Kiss me,” you whispered breathlessly as you grab his face in your hands, slamming your lips together. The taste of your blood was on his tongue, he gently bites your lower lip and tangles his hands in your hair. “Miguel,” your voice was high pitched and whiny, more so than you wanted. Miguel didn’t mind and in fact reveled in the fact he was able to do this to you. He continues peppering your skin with kisses, sliding your shorts and underwear down your body. He then rips his own suit off his skin, instantly cooling his body and setting his cock free.

He grabs a fistful of your hair and bends you over his desk, lining his cock up with your dripping cunt. “I need you,” his chest is pressed against your back and he slowly thrusts his cock in between your thighs. “So plump and warm,” he moaned in your ear, sliding his hands under your chest pinching your nipples.

“Oh, Miguel,” you moan, your face pressed against the wood of his desk. “Fuck me, please,” you cried, your lip quivering in anticipation.

Miguel slid his hands down to your hips, lightly raking his claws down your flesh, small beads of blood forming at the scratches left behind. He grabs the base of his cock, rubbing his tip in your wet folds. You whimper in anticipation, then Miguel stuffed the tip of his cock in your hole. He was so big it felt like he was ripping you in half. He was griping your hips and digging his claws into them for better leverage. “So little,” he muttered as he pounded into you, “so.. tight..” His thrusts were shallow, working his way up to filling you completely. “Can you take it all? Do you think you can handle all of my big cock?” He was babbling while he thrusted, drunk on your pussy already.

“Please Miguel,” your small frame whimpered for him. “More please..”

Miguel pulled out almost all of the way, a whimper escaped you when due to feeling empty. He spat on his cock and slowly pushed his throbbing, swollen cock into your quivering pussy. Tears pricked the corner of your eyes and the two of you moaned at the new feeling. Miguel began thrusting wildly, pounding hard in deep, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. “Wh-Where?” he asked, in reference to where you wanted him to cum.

You turned back to face him as best as you could. Looking into his eyes you say, “Inside.” This sends him into overdrive. He’s pounding deep into you at animalistic speeds. You were sure if you were on your back you’d have a bulge from his swollen head protruding out. He latches his fangs onto your other shoulder as he growls, completely feral, and cums inside of you. You cry out as he bites you again, your walls clenching around his cock as you cum. He continues thrusting sloppily, letting your tight cunt milk all of his seed. He retracts his claws and holds himself up over you, hands at either side of your head. He pulls out of you and you can feel sweat dripping from his forehead.

“Miguel.. You ruined my clothes.”

“Mierda.. Yeah I did.”