#they're attempting to get it all fixed up again so they can get around the mojave faster (my little headcanon for fast travelling

[heavyhitterheaux]

No Judgments

See Me Through You Blurb

Synopsis: You and Joe do the 'We listen and don't judge' TikTok challenge 🤭

Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: a few gorgeous anons 💕

Series Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

After wiping your mouth and rinsing it out with mouthwash from your sudden episode of morning sickness, you made your way back into the bedroom where your husband was still peacefully sleeping.

You attempted to climb back into the bed without waking him up, but feeling the weight shift made him flutter his eyes open. Joe had never been a really deep sleeper, but since he found out you were pregnant, usually he wakes up at the smallest noise and it left you surprised this morning when he didn’t feel you get out of bed the first time.

“Baby, you okay?” He asked as he pulled you towards him so he could wrap his arms around you and kissed the top of your head.

“Your children won't let me be great and made me throw up again.” You quietly answered and you had now grown frustrated since it seemed like the morning sickness wasn't only happening in the morning, but throughout the day.

“You want me to make you some tea?”

“Yes, please. I'm miserable.”

Joe then placed his hand on your belly and began to rub small circles on it as he noticed that your bump was actually starting to show.

“Babies, stop making mommy sick so she can sleep. Daddy’s orders.”

“Hopefully they'll listen to you because clearly they pay me no attention.”

“When they hear ‘the voice’ for the first time, they're going to be running for their lives.” Joe said, referring to the first time he heard it and made sure to stay out of your way for the rest of the day.

“I still to this day have no idea what you are talking about when you say that.”

“It's a voice you make when you get really annoyed. Ask Ja'Marr, he'll back me up.”

“I just think you two are being dramatic.”

“Says the most dramatic person in the room….”

“Husband! Take it back!”

“Nope, it's facts and I'm not going to lie to you.”

All you did was roll your eyes in response as Joe raised his eyebrows at you.

“Don't catch an attitude with me because it's something you didn't want to hear. Fix your face.”

“I'll fix mine if you let me ride yours.”

“I… These pregnancy hormones are giving me a run for my money and got me fighting for my damn life. One thing at a time and let's get your nausea under control first.”

Later on in the day, when Joe was sitting at the island in the kitchen, you went and sat next to him while setting up your phone. He quickly noticed and looked over at you.

“Whatever it is, no.”

“But baby! Pleaseeee?!”

You knew Joe hated being in front of a camera, but you loved doing TikTok challenges with him from time to time.

Sighing and finally giving in, he put his phone down to give you his undivided attention.

“Okay, what are we doing?”

“We listen and we don't judge challenge. I sent you a few so you would have an example to know what to do.”

“Only because it's you. Let's get this over with.”

“Yay! And I want you to go first.” You told him as you pressed record.

“We listen and we don't judge.”

“When I feel like I'm getting sick, I act like I'm so drained so I can't do anything so you'll baby me.” Joe was the first one up and smiled at you when he was finished.

“What the? I baby you anyway! Like 98% of the time.”

“AHT! No judging. You just take it to a different level. Moving on.”

“You are literally MY baby though. My 6’4 baby and I'm 4'11, but who's to say anything about that? I love you bad and I see you're using it to your advantage.”

“To get endless cuddles from my wife? Hell yeah I'm taking advantage of it.”

“Okay, next.”

“We listen and we don't judge.”

“So after you fall asleep since your bedtime is like 6 pm.. like a grandpa…” You started to say, but was immediately interrupted.

“9 during the season!”

“Stop interrupting me, husband! After you fall asleep, I go and buy things on your phone and make sure to delete the notifications so you don't find out.”

“BABY!”

“HEY! I BUY YOU THINGS TOO!”

“And you hide the packages too because I literally never see any of them.”

“Hmm, maybe.”

“Fine. Keep your secrets.”

“We listen and we don't judge.”

“When we were at LSU and we were just friends, I memorized your schedule and knew you had a lot of late classes and I would purposely wait for you if it was dark outside to walk you to your car to make sure you were safe. And it gave me a chance to spend more time with you.”

“So, that's why it seemed like you were always around? Aww, you love me!” You told him as you pinched his cheek.

“And don't you ever forget it.”

“We listen and we don't judge.”

“During last season when I saw you wore THOSE PANTS, yes you know the ones I'm talking about, after I specifically told you not to because they looked crazy and you wore them anyway, you kept asking if I've seen them but I hid them somewhere in our house and they have been hidden for so long that I forgot their location.”

“I LOVE THOSE PANTS, BABE!”

“THEY ARE HIDEOUS, BABY. NO!”

“I'm making it my mission later to find my pants.”

“I know Ja'Marr probably bought you those ugly ass pants.”

“AHT! You're judging!”

“We listen and we don't judge.”

“When you're mad at me, I purposely go into the cabinet and make all of the jar lids tighter so you have to come and talk to me.” Joe confessed and you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms at the same time.

“SERIOUSLY? And here I am thinking I'm a weak bitch! I can lift almost as heavy as you can! And a jar lid is what does me in?!?”

“Works every time.”

“I'm going to have to do it myself next time.”

“Like that will ever happen…” Joe said and you playfully rolled your eyes.

“We listen and we don't judge.”

“Okay, so….” You started to say as you glanced at Joe and he sighed knowing that something crazy and out of pocket was about to come out of your mouth.

“Oh shit, here we go.”

“Sometimes, I purposely piss you off and I don't know that you know you do this but your voice gets deeper and it turns me on so bad. Like your voice by itself turns me on, but when you get mad, whew. Sign me up for EVERY position. It's happening now and I'm just thinking about it. Gets your girl all hot and bothered.” You quietly said as Joe stared at you since you were now squirming in your chair and trying to keep your legs as tight as possible.

“Are you seriously squirming over there? And I’m not surprised by this in the slightest. Just wait until we're finished with this, I'm about to turn you every way but loose. And hold on! I thought we were keeping this PG!?” He asked as he leaned over and kissed you.

“Don't threaten me with a good time and when are the videos we do ever PG? Especially when it's something like this? And don't get me started because I will literally rip off your clothes at this very moment.”

“Good point and see? And that's why you're pregnant now.”

“Because my husband is fine as hell and I'll fu-” Joe's eyes went wide as he promptly covered your mouth with his hand and in protest, you licked it, making him look at you dumbfounded.

“No! Do not finish that sentence. This is really about to turn into something else if you don't stop. And did you just lick my hand!?”

“I wanna lick something else too, but I'll save that for when we turn the camera off.” You tried to whisper, but failed miserably.

“BABY QUIT IT!” Joe pleaded and all you did was shrug.

“I was like this before you married me and you should have known that once this ring was on my finger, I was about to be ten times worse.”

“Hmm, that's putting it lightly.”

“We listen and we don't judge.”

“I hide some of your perfumes so that you'll only use my favorite ones that I've bought for you.”

“Babe! How many have you hidden!? And here I am thinking that I've lost them!”

“Hmm, not telling.”

“You're annoying.”

“I'm cute and you love me.”

“Survey says that both of those responses are correct.”

“We listen and we don't judge.”

“So, when you got hurt during your rookie year, I was watching the game and saw it happen and my heart immediately dropped. Because we literally had an argument hours before that game and we weren't talking and now I think back on it, I had no idea what the argument was about. But, I low-key felt that you getting hurt was somehow my fault. I remember packing my things and getting on a plane and crying the entire way there and I honestly didn't know if you wanted to see me at that point. Because I had sent you a text right before the game and you didn't respond. And to this day, I still feel like that.”

It was quiet for a few seconds before Joe said anything.

“That… baby that wasn't your fault. It was a bad hit. And of course I wanted to see you. You were actually the first person I asked for. I never knew you felt like that.”

“I hate seeing you in pain and I…. I'm about to cry again.”

“I can tell, hormones.” Joe replied as he wiped your eyes for you.

“But I came back from it because of you and how you helped me. You being there was enough. You love me bad, don't you?” He asked as he was trying to get you to smile.

“So much, and you know it.”

“We listen and we don't judge.”

“Ever since you told me you were pregnant, I watch you until you fall asleep to make sure you’re okay. Doesn't matter how long it takes or if I have to get up early. You're my priority.”

“And, I'm about to cry again. Damn these hormones.”

“You are literally MY person and I don't know what I'd do without you.”

“Ladies, get you a husband who treats you like the queen you are every day because….. shoutout to Jimmy and Robin because the two of them gave me one of the best things that ever happened to me.”

“Wait… ONE of the best things? I'm not THE best thing!?”

“Hmm, you're top five.” You replied as you shrugged.

“Uh? You mean number one?”

“If it makes you feel better, the top five things all have to do with you.”

“That sounds suspicious, but I'll let it slide for now.”

“I love you Joseph Lee Burrow!” You exclaimed as you kissed his cheek and wrapped your arms around him.

“Stop trying to change the subject and I know for a damn fact you didn't just call me by my full name. I get anxious when you do that.”

“Wait, huh?”

“We've gone over this a million times. My name is BABY to you. When it comes to you I don't know who Joseph is.”

“And he calls me the dramatic one.”

[vault81]

Had the geck reinstalled for 5 minutes, and I'm already making the twins a player home in goodsprings lmao

[sukunasteeth]

Sukuna has never said no to you.

It didn’t matter what the request was, simple or complicated, easy to fix or a days-long job, Sukuna was always at your side, completing the task as fast as he needed to to keep you satisfied. He would love to deny it, you’re sure, but evidence proves time and time again that he puts your needs and wants at the top of his priority list. 

And you were curious how far you could go with it.

The two of you are sitting in your underwear at the breakfast nook, warming yourselves in the bay window while the morning sun starts on the leftover night time chill. It wasn't quite time for breakfast, still too early for the both of you. In the meantime, you sip on your morning brews, preserving the comfortable silence. Sukuna is flipping through the day's newspaper, his eyes are groggy with sleep and he hasn't said more than a handful of words to you yet. He wasn't a morning person.

You were starting to change that.

"Kuna," You call to him, nudging him with your foot from your corner of the window bench.

"Hmm?" He doesn't look up from the paper, but his hand reaches down and grabs your foot, pulling it into his lap. His thumbs start to subconsciously knead at your muscles.

"I want these." You hold up your phone, which you had previously been scrolling through in an attempt to find something ridiculous for this exact moment. You were sure you had found it, something even Sukuna would find unnecessary. 

And yet, he merely glances at your screen, takes in the sight for all of two seconds, and then returns his attention to whatever news article he was in the middle of.

"My wallet's on the counter." He clears the sleep from his throat not sparing a second look. 

You blink at him in surprise.

"D-Did you even see what it is?" You flip your phone around to make sure you were displaying the correct thing. 

Sukuna is frowning before he looks up again, curious at your persistence. He gently cups your hand, bringing it only a minuscule amount closer to examine your screen a second time. 

You were on one of the most luxurious brand’s websites, showing him an incredibly regular pair of panties, no straps, no details, all black- with one of the most outrageous price tags you had ever seen for something so ordinary. 

Sukuna cocks a brow at you over your phone, "Can't imagine you need more panties when you're constantly stealing my boxers. But whatever, hand it over. I know my card number-"

"Kuna," You interrupt him with a surprised laugh, holding fast to your phone when he tries to pluck it out of your hands, "they're a thousand dollars."

He glances back, his eyes focusing lower on the screen where you know the price tag to be. The newspaper in his hands drops down, momentarily forgotten by what he sees. For a moment, you think you've found his limit.

"Wait, are those red one's assless?" He points just below the price, where the recommended products are depicted. "Get those too."

You drop the phone down so that he meets your eyes, which are wide with shock.

Sukuna always took care of you. Always insisted on being the provider of any single thing that you may need; a warm meal, a soft bed, anything your eyes twinkled at that was available for purchase- even if you would never think of buying or owning it. Granted, you never wanted much in terms of material possessions, so you didn't realize the true extent of Sukuna's leniency until now.

It was slightly intimidating, and part of it felt wrong. Sukuna had money, plenty of it, but that didn’t mean he should feel the need to spend copious amounts of it on you just because you could ask him to. He was giving you too much power, it felt like.

You huff through your nose, frowning at him, which only has him tilting his head further to the side in question.

You ignore it, setting your phone onto the window seat and crawling your way closer to him, until you can gather up his face in your hands and lock his gaze into yours.

He glares at you past smushed cheeks, but doesn't make a move to break free of your hold, humoring you. "The hell are you doing-"

"You know you don't always have to say yes to me?"

Now that has him taken aback. His mouth automatically opens for a witty response, but your question seems to have effectively taken the words from his mouth. You can see the cogs in his head turning, and what you wouldn't give to peer inside his mind and hear his thoughts.

It takes him a moment, but eventually that familiar confident smile stretches across his sleepy face. His hands seem to instinctively slide their way up your bare legs until his fingers grip your hip bones, pressing into you. 

He hums, "When have you ever said no to me?"

You scoff, ready to give him a prime example, but end up coming up short. The two of you loved to tease each other with disobedience, but in the end you were eager to give Sukuna anything his heart desired. You loved to please him, it was one of your favorite things to do, in fact.

"You never ask anything ridiculous of me." You remind him, smiling as one of his warm hands slides back down your waist and dips into the pair of his boxers you were sporting that day. 

"You know what's ridiculous?” His voice wraps around your throat, and suddenly has you swallowing past the delicious grip. You're folding into him before you even realize it, at the mercy of his calloused hands. "The implication that I wouldn't do just about anything for you."

You can't help but sigh hopelessly, although it comes out as a desperate noise that pleads him for more. You really were all his, just like he loved to tell you.

"Now hand me your phone." It's a whisper, coaxing you. "I wanna see you in red."

You can’t say no. 

At least it was mutual.

[pinkanonwrites]

"Oh! That's What That Does?!"

All art by @archie-sunshine

G1 Rumble/ Mechanic Reader - 2400+ Words NSFW, Valveplug, Plug 'N Play, Mild Sparkplay, Accidental Stimulation, Edging, Human Reader, GN Pronouns

Ahh, the inherent eroticism of repairing your machine.~ I've had this one cooking for a while, so I hope you all enjoy! I've also gotten pretty attached to this mechanic Reader, so they'll likely pop up again with other cassettes (and maybe even some other Decepticons!)

NSFW WRITING AND IMAGERY BELOW THE CUT!

“Ey… EY! Careful wit’ dat! It’s touchy!”

“Rumble,” You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You're making this way more difficult than it needs to be.”

“I wouldn't be complainin’ if you'd stop touchin’ all up on bits that don't gotta be touched! Rootin’ around in there like I'm one’a your crappy organic machines!”

Removing your hands from Rumble’s open chest, you tossed them roughly into the air. “Y'know what? Fine. Do it yourself. Better yet, get Frenzy to pull the shrapnel out of your chest. That'll go great.”

You would have slid off of Rumble’s lap and stormed off, if not for his massive servos closing around your wrists with an unexpected delicacy. Your efforts to remove your hands only reinforced his grip, using just enough force to keep you from leaving without crushing your wrists entirely.

“H-Hey, no need ta be so hasty! Look, I’m just steamed cause'a the battle, dat’s all. Frenz’ can't do dis, it's gotta be someone more… dainty. Y’know. Little human hands and all dat.” The harsh glow of his visor had dulled slightly as his gaze cast down to your hands. You rolled your eyes, wrists finally slipping from his grip as you settled back in. 

Dangling wires and sparking shrapnel dotted his open chest cavity, illuminated by the light of his spark chamber. Rumble had staggered off-balance into your workshop whining about the prodding pieces of broken metal keeping him from transforming properly, yet you’d barely managed to get two wires back in place before he started squirming and whingeing and slinging verbal abuse at you.

 Not that you weren't used to it, any interactions with Rumble and Frenzy usually involved some level of bullying. Fortunately, the two cassettes are also incredibly predictable. As soon as you would threaten to take away or withhold what they're asking for, they’d start falling all over themselves with apologies and placations. After all, you may not have been the only mechanic in the area, but you were certainly their favorite.

“Are you going to actually let me work? Or are you going to start yelling at me again?”

“Yellin’? Who's yellin’? Yer the mechanic here, my spark is in your squishy little hands. Do your magic, doc.” He sat back again, servos clutching the edges of your workbench in a show of effort, a genuine attempt to keep them still (or however genuine any show of rule-following from Rumble could be.)

“That's what I thought. Now let me actually fix a few things before you start whining again.” Your gloved hands dipped back into his chest cavity, skirting the edges of his spark chamber to pick away at the bits of loose shrapnel stuck in some of the wires. His frame shuddered, a hiss of steam escaping through his dentae as your knuckles brushed the underside of the spark casing.

“C-Careful,” He said again, with significantly less bite to his tone.

“Does it hurt?”

“Somethin’ like dat.”

“I'll be careful, so let me know if it gets to be too much.” You smoothed a palm down the armor covering his stomach, flinching back when you heard another sharp hiss of steam.

“I’m fine! It's fine! Just… do ya gotta be all on top’a me like dis?”

“I can't reach properly if you're laying down. If you're standing you might keel over on me, and I really don't feel like being squished to death today.” He let out a low grumble as you jacked another cable back into its proper port. “I'll try to be quick, that way you won't have to worry about my ‘human germs’ and you can get outta here. Deal?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just-”

“Be careful. I know.”

And with that you went to work, separating and organizing cables, taping off leaky tubing and removing pieces of scrap metal as gently as you could. Every once in a while Rumble would jerk or twitch beneath your touch, letting out a muffled curse or huff but sparing you from his usual complaints. It was… uncharacteristically quiet, for sure. This was the most extensive repair you'd ever done on him, though, so maybe he was just having surgery jitters.

“Okay, I've gotten most of the shrapnel out. But there's a piece right behind your spark casing.”

“Well? Get it outta there!”

“I'm going to, but I need to get my whole hand in there. I'm warning you now because it's going to be bumping up against your spark casing a lot. I'm going to do my best but you have to tell me if it hurts too much.”

Rumble let out a long, pathetic groan. “Actually doc, maybe you can just leave dat one in there? F-For funsies?”

“Eh?! Rumble, I’m not gonna just ‘leave it in there’! It's gotta come out.”

“Something's gonna come out if you keep proddin’ around in there like dat…”

“What was that?”

“Gh! Nothin’! Don't worry ‘bout it!”

“...Okay. I’m gonna start now. Are you ready?” Rumble only responded with gritted dentae and a tense nod. Working your gloved hand under his spark chamber, you could feel the ambient energy making the hairs on your arm stand on end as you felt for the jagged edge of broken metal. Your glove blocked your view entirely, so you were left blindly groping your way up the metal surface, feeling for anything bent or out of place. When your fingers could no longer reach any further while still avoiding the casing, you slid forward and ducked slightly into Rumble’s open chest, the back of your hand pressing up against the underside of his spark chamber.

CLANG!

You jumped, and if it weren't for Rumble’s arm wrapping around you and almost crushing you into his open chest you may have jostled the sensitive chamber even further. You slid your hand back again, easing off of the reinforced glass, and his grip receded.

“What the hell was that? And what was that clang?”

“I said don't worry ‘bout it!” He hissed, voice glitchy with static. “Everythin’s totally normal, I dunno why you're getting all jumpy ‘bout- MMNGH?!” You moved your hand up again into the same position, and Rumble let out an embarrassingly high whimper. You glanced up at his face, a flush of pink behind the usual grey and beading with coolant… and something clicked.

“Oh my God are you getting off on this?”

“N-No!”

Behind you you heard a sharp snikt, and the sound of pressurizing hydraulics.

“...Maybe?”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

“H-Hey, don't go gettin’ a big head or nothin’! A bot’s spark chamber is sensitive! Don't go thinkin’ this is cause of your squishy frame or your soft little digits or nothin’!” He seemed to almost shrink in on himself, face plate practically glowing as his shoulders pulled up around his helm. You'd never say it to his face, but he looked surprisingly… small, at this moment. You heaved an exhausted sigh.

“Okay. Okay. I'm going to get this last piece out, alright? It's the last one. And whatever happens while I'm doing that..? It just happens. We won't bring it up again, no need to be embarrassed. Deal?”

“‘Deal?!?’” He squawked, positively scandalized. “How do I know yer not gonna gossip with Frenz’ the next time he's in for a tune-up?”

“Well Frenzy usually never lets me get a word in edgewise, first of all.” You huffed. This was way more than you'd signed up for. “I'm not going to make fun of you, Rumble. Let’s just get you patched up, then you can head home. Okay?”

His mouth was pulled into a tight, wobbly frown as he glanced down at you, choking out a single word. “...Promise?”

“I promise.”

“...Slag. alright, let's get dis over with.” He lolled his head back against the table with a clank, resigning himself to his fate. This time, when your knuckles brushed his spark casing, he couldn’t stifle his soft moan. Your fingers felt further and further up, until almost your entire hand was behind the glass bubble containing his pulsing spark. Finally, you could feel the jagged piece of metal. You wrapped your fingers around it and gave it an experimental tug. It stuck fast, and your hand bumping against Rumble's spark only pulled another surprised moan from him.

“W-Watch it!” He yelped, sounding too fucked-out to come across as actually threatening.

“It's really stuck in there. I'm going to start working it out, so let me know if you need me to stop.”

“Wh… workin’ it out? Whadda ya- ohhh…~” 

With your thumb and forefinger gripping the edge of the broken metal, you began to wiggle it gently back and forth to ease it from the plating and wires around it. Each time you moved the back of your hand rubbed up against the far side of his spark chamber, warmth radiating through your glove as Rumble started to vent more harshly.

“Slag… slag! Don't think it's ever been touched back there before. Feels… feels crazy.” He moaned. The metal of your work table shrieked and crumpled like cardboard under his iron grip, desperate to keep his servos off of himself or, Primus forbid, you. The piece stuck firm, and as you braced your other hand against the outside paneling of his chest to readjust your balance he let out a sharp, staticky yelp. “S-STOP!”

You froze immediately. “Are you okay? What's wrong?”

A few shuddering vents were your only response for a moment, Rumble’s visor lights flickering frantically as he tried to steady himself. “Whooo… Almost blew my top for a second there.”

“Seriously?”

“Hey! Yer the one that told me to tell ya if I need ya to stop! I'll be slagged to the Pit before I let some ‘squishy’ run my charge like dat.”

“...Can I start again? I’m making some progress here.”

“...Y-Yeah. Yeah. Yer good.”

You let out another soft sigh, trying to focus on the rhythmic sktch sktch sktch of metal on metal rather than Rumble’s shivering whines. His vocalizer pitched and warbled with static, attempts to stifle his own words slowly giving way to a deluge of fucked-out babbles.

“Ah! Gh! Ohh, mmnh, stupid little hands feelin’ all- nnh!~ Jus’ get it outta there! Please?”

I’m working on it. You’re doing good, just hang in there.” Your placations only resulted in another desperate moan. After what couldn’t have been more than another thirty seconds or so, he blurted out again.

“Ah! Stop!”

You retracted your hand for a moment, letting Rumble gasp for breath above you in a futile attempt to cool his core. You rubbed at his chest paneling as he shivered beneath you hard enough that you thought bolts were going to start coming undone. Even the paneling you were seated upon was burning up, heat seeping through the fabric of your coveralls. His glowing face plate was slick with coolant. Without thinking, you reached up and swept away a bead of it with your thumb, making him jump.

“H-Hey, quit dat…” He groaned, all bite lost from his tone.

“Rumble… The more you keep stopping me the longer this is going to take.”

“You think I don’t know dat?!” One of his arms draped dramatically over his face. “I’m tryin’! But you just keep pokin’ around in there and it’s all touchy and it’s makin’ me feel like my spike’s gonna burst and I can’t take it anymore!” He sniffled. Could Cybertronians even sniffle? You weren’t sure, but he sounded close to tears.

“Rumble… Have you ever actually edged yourself before?”

“Whu- Whuh? How’s dat any of yer business?”

“I’m just thinking…” You ran a placating hand down his shivering plating. “If you haven’t it can be really overwhelming, and-”

“I can handle it! I-I can!”

“Let me finish. It can be really overwhelming, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself further. Just… take a deep breath for me, okay?” You took a slow, steadying breath, and after a second he mimicked it. “Good. Just think about letting go, okay? I’m not going to judge you. Just think about it.”

He let out a low, pitying grumble, peeking at you from behind his arm plating. “...You can start again.”

Once again, your hands dipped into his chest cavity. Only this time you slid both hands up behind his spark casing, gripping as much of the broken metal as you could reach. As you rocked it back and forth Rumble’s moans returned with a fervor, one servo finally flying to cup your lower back.

“Ah! Ah! Slag, oh slag please! Please don’t stop I’m so fraggin’ close.” He fisted the back of your uniform, crumpling the cheap fabric between his digits. “C’mon, c’mon c’mon c’mon I need it!”

“Shh, I’ve got you baby. Just let it happen.”

With a metallic shriek and a gush of brackish oil the shrapnel popped free, the force enough to send you sprawling if not for Rumble’s servo in the small of your back. Of course, said unexpected force also slammed the backs of both your hands right into the underside of his spark chamber, and Rumble’s voice box screeched into a wail of radio static. Something hot and sticky splattered up the back of your coveralls; said something you decidedly were not going to look at until later. His frame rattled and shivered beneath you, steam venting and joints glitching and spark pulsating a near-blinding glow.  Finally, after a burst of noise and sparks and twitching, he went slack beneath you, helm clanking against the workbench as his optics flickered.

As delicately as you could, you removed the oil-slick shrapnel and let it clatter onto the floor before shedding your gloves and dabbing at his face plate with the cuff of your sleeve. With the whir of an old monitor blipping back to life, his visor blinked back up to its standard brightness.

“Whuh… Wheh?” He garbled.

“How you feeling, hun?”

“Like I got struck by lightnin’... but in like a nasty way.”

You choked back a snort. “Well, I’ve got all the worst of it over with. Feel free to rest for a while if you need it. I’m gonna go change my jumpsuit.” 

He let you slide off his lap without a fight, not even commenting until you’d turned around to make your way over to your office. Only then did he let out a low, salacious whistle when he’d finally caught sight of the back of your uniform.

“Comm me next time yer free, doc. Then I can repay da favor.”

[variousqueerthings]

the doctor being a part of the noble family has the energy of an addams family cousin -- imagines rose being in a school play and the doctor fixing up some gizmo to open up a tiny gap to some part of the universe where stars shine particularly brightly for midsummer night's dream, and accidentally almost levels the school by misjudging how close they are to this one very dense planet (people in the audience confusedly waving at aliens who are just as confusedly waving their tentacles back from a thousand years in the future a million light years away. everybody afterwards talks about the great special effects, but they're not sure what it has to do with the story)

people trying to figure out who this "the doctor" person is and why he's living with the nobles, and always trying to catch out that there's something going on, but the doctor's answers to all their inquiries are so lowkey bonkers as to bamboozle any further attempts (so where are you from again? oh just this place, well, I say place, planet, well, I say planet I don't actually know these days, but somewhere certainly... is Ipswich a place? how do you know mrs noble again? we travelled together for a bit, and then, well you know how it is when you get hit with a face full of radiation, ey *snort-laughs at his own joke* and what's your name again? doctor, the "the" is a pronoun, it can get confusing I know, but people on this planet choose their names all the time, you'll catch up)

just this house gremlin in a setup that nobody from the outside understands, toddling about, showing up at every event that rose has going for her, wearing little pride pins that might be partially for himself as well as for rose (gay??? one of those trans ones????), always seems to be talking about strange places that nobody has heard of but doesn't want to admit to, occasionally goes eerily still and unnerving around people who are cruel and mean, knows a lot about history, but peppers it with facts that can't possibly be true, gets on very well with shaun who always answers questions with "the doctor's part of the family, youknow?" they do not know, but at this point it's too rude to keep asking

[moonbeamwritings]

“Nanamiiiinn,” Gojo croons, dragging out the end of that stupid nickname with a knowing smirk. Nanami heaves a sigh at the sound. It's tolerable enough coming from Itadori, sure, but it's insufferable when Nanami knows Gojo is using it to goad him on.

“I didn’t take you for that kind of guy,” Gojo continues when Nanami doesn't answer. He bends at the waist to speak into Nanami’s ear, a hand curling around the back of his chair to trap him in the seat. “Comin’ into work with lipstick smeared all over your face.”

Nanami can't help but roll his eyes. "Ha ha. I'm not whipping out my phone just so you'll say 'HA! Made you look!'" Gojo's attempted the same juvenile prank one too many times for Nanami to have any sort of faith in this new line of teasing.

"Oh?" Gojo's stepped around the table to drop into the seat across from him, a smirk evident on his features. "Don't believe me, huh?"

Before Nanami can stop him, Gojo is pulling out his phone and taking a picture with an audible click. Smugly, he turns the screen so Nanami can see for himself.

The photo reveals a shiny pink smudge across the high point of his cheek and dotted on the corner of his lips. Nanami's nose wasn't spared in the onslaught either it seems, one mark crossing the bridge while the other is perfectly placed on the tip.

"It's a good look for you!" Gojo assures him, smiling down at the photo. "It's not every day I get to see you look so..." He thinks for a moment. "Soft."

Nanami rolls his eyes, again, and rubs the pad of his thumb at the corner of his mouth. "You're insufferable."

Gojo's mouth is agape. "I won't take credit for such a masterpiece, Nanamin. You know me better than that!" The comment seems to spark something in the other sorcerer's mind, and Nanami does not like the look that crosses his face. Not one bit. "But I have my suspicions as to who our little lipstick owner may be."

When Gojo starts marking the possible suspects by counting on his fingers, Nanami decides to quit while he's ahead and see himself out, his quiet time thoroughly ruined. He moves to stand, but Kugisaki and Itadori enter the room before he can get too far.

The teens greet the pair, and Nanami has one foot out the door when Kugisaki's eyes narrow in on him. He feels stuck beneath it, like he's suddenly trapped in quicksand.

She gestures to his nose. "You've got something there." A pause. "And there."

"I'm aware, thank you."

"Is it-" Itadori leans closer to inspect the situation, too. This is nightmarish, Nanami thinks, embarrassed at being so scrutinized. "Is it lipstick?"

Gojo's response is snide. Immediate. "It is."

Nanami shoots him a glare over Kugisaki's shoulder. Oh, if looks could kill.

"I've seen this shade before." Kugisaki says, fixing Itadori with a puzzled expression. "Do you think it's-"

The whole interaction is innocent, Nanami knows. The teens aren't trying to rake him over the coals. They're not intending to prolong his suffering. But with every second of debate, Gojo's grin only grows, the answer to the mystery coming closer and closer to his grasp.

Kugisaki's face alights with excitement when she finally puts a face and name to her thought. "Oh, I know!"

Oh no.

Your name falls from Kugisaki's lips as if in slow motion. Every letter, every agonizing second drawn out in near comedic fashion.

The look on Nanami's face must give him away because Gojo is up out of his chair in record time, an accusatory finger pointing in his direction. "I knew it! I knew you two were a thing!"

Nanami ignores the display entirely, nodding politely at the students. "Have a nice afternoon, you two."

He retreats down the hallway to the echoing sounds of Gojo's elation, making his way towards the nearest bathroom to rid himself of the pink marks. Nanami had noticed your lipstick this morning, had even complimented it, and he was clearly so wrapped up in your kisses that he hadn't thought to check for any evidence of them as he made his way out the door.

You're partially to blame, Nanami decides as his phone starts to vibrate with messages from you – no doubt having already seen the picture Gojo took. You could've, should've, warned him before he left the apartment looking like this.

He reluctantly opens his phone to half a dozen texts from you, ranging from telling him how funny it all was to how cute he looked with little kiss marks all over his face.

This is all your fault.

The three dots pop up, and then: You weren't complaining this morning!

He wasn't, that much he can't deny. Nanami would've stood there all morning accepting kisses if you'd let him.

My reputation is ruined.

It adds to your charm!

Nanami starts to remove the lipstick as best he can, but he knows it won't make much difference. Gojo will still tease him for it, and you'll still pepper his face with kisses every time you see him — lipstick or not.

[spiriteddreams]

nanami kento likes to be on time to everything. but when you're pressing kisses to his lips, his nose, his cheeks, he finds that he doesn't quite mind running late this time. after all, it's to meet gojo, so for all he cares, the white haired sorcerer can wait for an eternity as he indulges in your love. his hands rest on your waist as you stand between his legs, humming to yourself as you help to straighten his tie and press another kiss to his lips.

"i'm going to be late," he murmurs, but you don't miss the way he chases after your lips, searching for another.

your hands run up his chest until they're resting on his shoulders and you roll your eyes fondly and say, "you don't seem to be in a rush." it's the truth, but really, how can he be in a rush when you're looking at him so sweetly, holding his gaze as if daring him to be the first to look away. he pulls you closer instead, curling his fingers around you as he hums nonchalantly.

"i'd much rather be here with you," nanami admits. you feel your face warm at his words, so simple and yet said in that signature low voice of his, laced with all the love and adoration he holds for you. he's never been the best with his words, and you know this. without having to say it, you know exactly what he's saying.

nanami kento expresses his love through his actions. he swears to love you in the flowers he brings home everyday after work, and in the morning coffee that he brews as you sluggishly climb out of bed after him. he seals his promises with the slow kisses that you share in empty classrooms of tokyo jujutsu tech, as if you were both still in school, young and chasing after one another but too afraid to make the first move.

"you know i have to get to work too," and yet you don't make an attempt to pull away form him either. "i promised shoko i'd buy her a coffee." nanami hums and you can feel the way his fingers start to gently press into your clothes, subtly pushing you towards him. he doesn't have to say it, but you know that he wants you to indulge him just a bit longer. a glance at the clock in your room has you sighing softly.

"kento," you say softly. he savors the way you say his name, searing it into his memory as he fixes you with a knowing look, a smile tugging up on his lips as he tilts his head just barely.

"one more, for good luck?" he teases. you huff out a sigh, knowing that he'll ask for another, and then another, and before you know it, both your lips will be swollen and eyes glassy as you're rushing to leave home.

he chuckles, as if reading your thoughts. "i'll need all the luck i can get if i'm meeting with gojo." you hate to admit that this time, he has a point. in the back of your mind, you wonder how long it'll take for nanami to pull out his phone and send you a text, asking you to come save him from the sugary eccentric sorcerer who's roped him into training one of his new students.

"for good luck then," the kiss you give is chaste, far too quick for his liking and he doesn't care if you laugh at the way he sharply pulls you back in. the kiss he presses to your lips is searing and you nearly stumble forward had it not been for your hands immediately moving to grip his shoulders. you lose yourself in the moment, hands wandering just as his do.

it's only when the sharp ringing of your phone cuts through the room that you pull away to reach over to see shoko's name on screen. she doesn't even give you the chance to greet her when you pick up, instead opting to say, "i hope you're not sucking faces right now."

"if you're upset about your coffee running a bit late, i'll buy you another one tomorrow," you reply fondly. nanami huffs next to you, eyeing your phone as if contemplating grabbing it and tossing it across the room so he could pick up where you left off.

"i'll hold you to that," shoko sighs. it's silent for a beat before she speaks up again, "hey nanami, gojo's been texting me nonstop. he said you're not answering your phone." the sorcerer in front of you mumbles something under his breath as you bid shoko goodbye, promising to bring her coffee soon.

"i suppose that's our sign to go," you step out of his grasp and nanami nods as he tucks away his phone in his pocket. already, he's thinking about coming home and making dinner this time. he's thinking about what flowers the corner store might have today when you pat his chest and go to cup his cheek.

"have a good day my love," you smile at him. and in every silly cliche way possible, nanami's breath catches in his throat. this is what it must feel like to be in love, the kind of love that the books you ask him to read try to describe, but never fully capture.

"i'll see you later," he says softly, already leaning towards you, "text me if you need anything." you both hesitate, go to pull away, but fall back into one another for one last kiss before you go, your giggles still echoing in nanami's mind as he turns to go meet gojo.

nanami's always liked to be on time, but for you, he'll make every exception.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! <3 a/n: this is me coping and trying to emotionally prepare to watch the episode later

[indulgentdaydream]

Bliss and Misery

Dad!Jason Todd x Fem!Mom!Reader || Angst; Hurt/No Comfort || Word Count: 1,643

Warnings: dead dove.

i know how much you guys love my domestic!jason fics :3 so here's this one that's been bouncing around in my mind:

The morning sun stretched its fingers, slowly finding its way centimetre by centimetre in order to reach into the small apartment bedroom. The soft warmth spread over Jason's face, giving him a slow and subtle wake-up call.

Jason almost doesn't want to wake up. The plush covers are pulled up to his shoulders. One arm lays over his stomach, resting against the cotton fabric. The other stuffed underneath the pillow, beside his head. He hasn't even opened his eyes yet, but he can feel your presence beside him.

Slowly, he blinks, adjusting to the daylight. He pulls his hand out from under the pillow and runs it across his face. He vaguely remembered something about needing to be up for something. Something about helping Dick with something or another.

He turned his head to the left and all possible worries about sleeping vanished when his eyes found you.

Jason couldn't help but smile. The sight of his girl curled up in the sheets beside him making him feel warmer than the sun ever could. You looked as completely at peace as he felt in the moment. The sunlight stretched over you, as well, illuminating every feature of yours. All of which he loved without a second thought.

Loved as if it was second nature.

As if it was breathing itself.

Here, with the comforter pulled up to your chin, face squished against the pillow, and a small pile of dried drool forming on it, you were safe. He was safe.

You were safe and he was safe and this was everything he had ever wanted to give you.

Peace. Safety. Comfortability.

Love.

He takes the hand resting across his stomach and reaches out to you. There was a stray lock that had fallen out of place. He wanted to fix it for you before it could wake you out of annoyance.

Then he heard the quick padding of feet coming down the hallway.

It filters in through the bedroom door, left open a crack, getting louder with each little slap of a bare foot rushing down the hall. Jason smiles at the sound.

Obviously, he's not the only one awake.

From where he's laying, Jason can only see the top of the door. He listens as the padding feet stop right outside of it, before it begins to slowly creak open. Jason pushes up onto his elbows to get a better look.

There's a small face poking their head around the door, a curious look on their face as they peer up at the bed, trying to determine if their parents are awake. As soon as Jason's head comes up into their view, a large, bright, slightly toothy smile spreads across their whole face.

Jason holds a finger to his lips as your shared toddler pushes the door open the rest of the way. Luckily, it doesn't bang loud enough to wake you up.

"Come to my side," Jason whispers.

The sound of quick padding feet picks up again. Jason lays his head back against his pillow. He gets a second more of peace before there's a small head, covered with dense, black curls, that's appearing next to him, barely visible over the edge of the bed. Next, there's tiny hands. They're reaching up and gripping at the blanket, attempting to pull themself up, only to no avail.

Jason turns and reaches down. He lifts them up with no effort, sitting them onto his chest. His voice is groggy, still full of sleep, as he whispers "Hiya, baby."

A fit of giggles rings throughout the room. His baby leans forward. Two hands settle on either side of Jason's cheeks. His baby grins at him still, two eyes staring into his own, matching ones, and matches his whisper, "Daddy."

Jason chuckles to himself. He gently grabs his toddler's hands, pressing kisses and pretending to nibble on the little, pudgy fingers.

Another round of giggles sound out, a bit louder than before.

You shuffle in your sleep, a small puff of air leaving your lips. The movement grabs the attention of both your baby and your husband.

Your baby flops down, suddenly, off of Jason's chest. They land between you two, on the mattress. One pudgy hand is pushing themself up, the other reaching out to your face, instead. Their whispering voice calls out, "Mommy!"

Jason turns onto his side, facing you, and pulls them back. He gently holds them to his chest with an arm around them, “Shhh," He whispers into their ear, "Mommy’s sleeping.”

"Mommy s'eeping.”

Jason laughs quietly smiling as their baby looks back up at him with that same, bright grin. They look up at him with your eyes, before looking back at you.

...

Your eyes?

Jason shuffles lower in the bed, putting his face next to his baby’s. All four of their eyes are focused on you.

“Isn’t she so pretty?" He whispers, "Look at how pretty Mommy is.”

You look so peaceful. So cozy. So beautiful. With the blanket wrapped around you, your limbs comfortably spread out. Your entire life right in front of you, yet you were blissfully unaware.

“Pretty,” Their baby whispers.

Jason grins, patting their stomach, “Yes. She’s very pretty isn’t she?” Jason lets go of their baby, “Go wake her up.”

Their baby squeals out a fit of giggles again. They immediately crawl forward between the small space. Their hands come down quick, making Jason flinch in preparation for the accidental blow, but they land gently on your face. Their lips come down to messily kiss your closed eyelid.

“Mommy,” they whisper loudly.

You let out a small groan. Your baby grins, gently patting your cheek. You peer one eye open, "What is it?"

Jason grins wide, his hand coming over to smooth over your upper arm through the blanket, “The wake up call came in.”

Their baby sat back on the mattress as you lifted your head, “So you were the first victim," your eyes squinted at the morning light coming in through the window behind Jason, "and you just let ‘em continue their rampage?”

Their baby scoots down to lay between their parents, their face level between theirs, still smiling and happy as could be.

“I was already awake,” Jason smiles, “I let you have five more minutes before the attack began.”

You hum, closing your eyes again, "What a gentleman."

“Mommmmy,” your baby dragged out the word, their little hand reaching out and touching your cheek.

You hum and peak an eye open again, “I’m awake, darling.”

Jason chuckles and leans over, “You better be. We’ve obviously slept in enough according to the little one."

You let out a small laugh. He presses a light kiss to your lips.

A small squeal sounds.

Jason looks down at the look of betrayal on their toddler’s face. Their little hands raise up in question. It makes him laugh wholeheartedly.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he leans back down to the toddler instead. You're laughing with him, “Are you feeling left out?”

Jason kisses their cheek. You lean in and kiss their other cheek.

Jason looks back at you, a warm smile on his face. He begins to reach his hand out to cup your face.

His phone starts to ring.

He frowns. You aren't reacting. Neither is your toddler.

His hand hits the pillow where your head should be.

The sheets are cold.

The room is dark. It’s the middle of the night.

There’s no one in front of him. It’s just him in his empty, cold, uncomfortable bed.

There's no warmth. No sunlight. No comfortable blanket. No padding little feet.

No you.

He sits up, throwing his feet over the side of the bed, tossing the covers off of himself. He rubs a hand over his face. One glance at his phone shows that it’s Dick calling. No chance he’s picking up.

Not now.

Jason holds his head in his hands.

Why did he ever break up with you?

To protect you from himself, of course. All he had wanted to give you.

Peace. Safety. Comfortability.

and...

Love.

The phone stopped ringing. A moment later, it started up again.

His life is dangerous. He was dragging you down. You were better off without him. You had the chance to choose a different path than he had.

A path that lowered your chance of sudden death just by association.

But… if that’s the life that he could’ve had with you… a life he hadn’t fully considered himself ever being able to have…

God.

Why did he ever leave?

The sight of that little smile, held in his arms, lit up by the morning light, made his stomach churn so violently he almost darted to the bathroom.

What would their name have been? He didn't know the gender in the dream.

He would have let you name them. He was never good with names.

He thought back on their eyes. He would have wanted them to have your eyes. He would have wanted them to have every single one of your features. It was always easier to those who were as gorgeous as you. Even if you rarely believed him when he tried to convince you that you are.

The phone stopped ringing again.

A text came through. You promised.

Yeah, The image of you laying in the bed, your toddler laying beside you, both smiling up at him, flashed through Jason's mind, I did promise her, didn't I?

Jason lifts his head, shaking it a little to clear his thoughts.

He had made his bed, and now he was laying in it. And it wasn't the one that had you and your shared child in it.

He picked up the phone, cleared his throat, and redialed.

He ignored the tears still falling down his face.

And the sight of your contact that was still favourited.

my bad guys I was in a mood...

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Could we get the Claymore Queens (and anyone else of your choice) reacting to their SO trying to be tough for their sake, not saying anything, not wincing (or trying not to), not complaining, although they're not in the best condition?

(Genshin Impact) Clorinde, Eula, Dehya, Beidou, Navia, Noelle, Furina and Xinyan's S/O trying to tough out their injuries

"Nah, I'd win." - Me at 1hp to my friends after getting hit by a boss's move dead on.

Clorinde has been in so many duels to the point where she can tell someone is bluffing, simply by their body language alone.

S/O was heavily injured: their legs were slightly trembling, breathing heavy, and weapon shaking.

And she's only glanced at them for a few seconds. They were in no condition to keep going, even if they insisted otherwise.

(Clorinde) "You need to rest, S/O. If we get into another fight, you've already lost."

She rests a firm but affectionate hand onto their shoulders in an attempt to get them to relax.

(Clorinde) "Getting yourself killed will not prove to me that you are strong."

Eula frowns the moment she hears her S/O say they're fine.

She doesn't even need to look at them, Eula immediately turns around and tells them what they need to hear.

(Eula) "You are not fine. Tend to your wounds, I won't be the one dragging your unconscious body back to Mondstadt."

Though her words are harsh, it comes from a place of concern and love.

She'd prefer not to have S/O injured at all and be the one in their shoes instead, but it'd at least make her heart rest easier knowing they were out of harm's way and recovering.

(Eula) "At the very least, just wrap the bandages around yourself."

Dehya scoffs and crosses her arms, shoulders sagging as she raises a single eyebrow.

(Dehya) "Psh, yeah right. I'm sure that blood dripping down your arms means you're completely rarin' to go, right?"

She shakes her head as she forces them to sit down, and with her arm strength and S/O's injuries, it is very easy to do.

(Dehya) "Sit still for a sec, you're not fooling anyone."

Dehya knows they weren't trying to worry her, but if anything this was doing the opposite.

...Then again, she can't exactly blame them. She'd probably do the same right now.

Beidou lightly punches their arm, and when S/O yelps out, that solidifies her decision.

(Beidou) "Thought so. You're sitting this one out for now."

Beidou's top priority is always the safety of her crew, S/O was no exception.

She doesn't take no for an answer easily, and Beidou does not care how much S/O tries to convince her otherwise.

(Beidou) "You'd convince me a lot more if you weren't hissing every single time my hand brushed against you, y'know."

Navia isn't even listening to S/O try to insist that they're fine.

Navia, along with some bodyguards that appeared out of nowhere, are already tending to their injuries.

(Navia) "We'll get you fixed up in no time, you leave everything to me!"

Her heart is pounding when she's looking at their injuries, trying her best to block the unpleasant thoughts out of her head.

What matters the most right now is that S/O not push themselves anymore for her sake.

Navia needed them to be okay.

(Navia) "No more of that talk, S/O! You're resting here and that's final! Gentlemen, S/O does not move an inch from this spot, understood?"

(Bodguards) "Yes. ma'am!"

Noelle pouts when she sees S/O trying to walk beside her.

Absolutely not! They weren't even in the condition to help her clean.

Granted, not a lot of people can clean an entire wagon just by lifting it with one arm, S/O included, but her point still stands.

(Noelle) "I do not think so! S/O, I ask you leave this work to me! You sit here and rest, I'll clean the rest of this mess up!"

Noelle is twice as determined to ensure not a single enemy gets through her. Her goal was to make S/O not worry, not the other way around!

As a dutiful maid should!

Plus, S/O knows if they try to protest, Noelle is using that superhuman strength to make them stay put.

Furina's fists clench when she sees S/O try to smile despite the heavy hits on their body.

...No. Enough was enough.

S/O would not get themselves hurt anymore for someone like her.

(Furina) "Do you take me for a fool, S/O?! I demand that you take a seat this instant!"

Her expression is angry, angrier than S/O had ever seen Furina.

But it quickly simmers down once her voice starts shaking.

(Furina) "I'd never forgive myself if you tried to keep going simply to not make me worry...Just be honest and tell me you have to rest!"

The irony of being honest was not lost on her, but they already knew the truth about her.

It's only fair that they didn't lie about how they were either.

Xinyan walks in front of S/O, hands on her hips.

(Xinyan) "Heck no, ya ain't fine! Ya look like yer about to keel over!"

She rushes to them and ushers for them to sit on the ground, while getting a few bandages out.

(Xinyan) "'Fine' my butt! You're lookin awful! Please just take a rest!"

A sigh of relief leaves her body once S/O complies, allowing her to tend to all their bruises.

It pained her to even see them this injured, but if anything, they won't strain themselves any further for her.

[ifyoucandaniel]

I want to thank you for making your list of recommended long batfam fics. I have been making my way through it and I am really enjoying them! ESPECIALLY cards on the table (I also love Dark Matter but I had already read it). Please let us know if you ever get more long batfam fic recs 🥺

okay so ive been waiting to answer this until i had gathered a good chunk of new long fics and ive been getting a lot of similar messages asking for recommendations, so here is another list of my fav long batman fics!

Jason and the Three Terrors by @cdelphiki, 220k, ongoing, T. if i can get you to read one thing, let it be this. ohhh my god where to even begin, this is a fic where jason stays with the league after his dip in the lazarus pit for a little while and winds up being charged with getting damian, his cousin, and his sister out of the league safely. this fic is just so fucking good, cdelphiki always writes such seamless relationship growth and watching jason go from "im dropping these brats off first chance i get" to "im a single mother of three and i need to provide for my kids" is phenomenal. 1000/10, the writing, the kids, the relationships, please do yourself a favor and read this.

A Collision of Masks by Movaz, 169k, completed, T. !! guys. this is such a good dick grayson-centric fic. this is set in an AU where batman never joined the justice league so the justice league knows very little about batman inc. and consequently dick never joins YJ so the YJ team is tasked with checking out a new hero called nightwing in bludhaven and police officer grayson is tasked with helping the team in their investigation :) really good fic exploring dick juggling all his identities and finally gaining people he can rely on! i actually did a bind of it so you know i love this story so much

Life Happens by @cdelphiki, 176k, complete, G. ok so this fic is probably one of the most beautiful stories of growth and love i've read. its about tim and damian being transported from their world into ours where they're only comic book characters and they start to build a life for themselves here. cdelphiki is one of the most amazing authors, im currently going through all of their works, but this one has just stayed with me and i dont think anyone should pass it up. watching tim and damian grow together and seeing damian have a real childhood and just the whole concept of life happening wether you want it to or not is so beautifully done. cannot recommend enough.

Honoring Promises by LananiA3O, completed, 14k, T. okay this isnt actually a long fic, but its one of my favorite fics ever and i need it on this list. if you're like me and you love UTRH aus where instead of sticking around as red hood after bruce threw a batarang at his throat jason fucks off and disappears to live a normal life, this is for you. from dick's pov, he realizes jasons last letter was a last attempt at reaching out and stalks him until he finds out what really happened to his little brother. i think about this every day and wish it was 10000 words long

The Time Before by @cdelphiki, 80k, completed, G. at this point this is basically just a cdelphiki fic rec lmao when i said everything by them was good, i meant that shit. this is a fic where jason is sent back into time when he was 9 years old but still has all his memories from the future. he goes to bruce for help despite wanting to do literally anything else and is surprised to realize maybe everything isn't how he remembers it 10 years in the future and maybe theres a chance he can go home when hes older again. once again cdelphiki hitting me in the feels with this one, really amazing study on how time and pain can change how you perceive and remember things and also just forgiveness and fixing mistakes and accepting mistakes were made. very good, highly recommend

Good Fences Make Good Neighbors by Sophene, 80k, completed, batlantern, T. I have no excuse for this, this is such a fun and funny fic i love it so much. basically HOA president single dad bruce with his 10 million adopted kids and then hal jordan moves in next door and plays his music too loud at 10pm on a school night and throws parties and bruce has a stick up his ass about it. i really really love the shift in hal when kyle comes to live with him as his ward (? i cant actually remember if hes adopted or just a ward) and seeing him finally understand why bruce acts the way he does when it comes to his kids. also seeing bruce just being a tired dad 90% of the fic when he isnt glaring at hal is so good.

Option C by CasualGeek, 78k, completed, T. this has, in my opinion, a very unique and interesting premise. basically, what if instead of becoming red hood, jason comes back to gotham and manages to get Joker put on trial for the murder of sheila haywood and get the insanity plea thrown out. really interesting approach to batman and joker and jason technically doing things through the legal justice system and what that means for him and the people around him. very good, read it all in one sitting

butcherbird, fly away home by e_va, 41k, completed, M. lost days jason todd loml! basically what if when jason was off on his world tour one of his tutors kidnapped bruce wayne and jason has feelings about it against his will. "what if lost days jason was stuck in the same room as a sick bruce for more than 10 minutes and actually had to talk to him without punching him" AU and i throughly enjoyed it. @darlingatlas recommended this one and she never misses with the jason recs

this kind of weather by r_astra, 55k, completed, T. this is the fic something in the static was originally inspired by and if you know me, i love that series, and i love this fic too. another what if jasons mom didnt die until later and social services gets involved before he can bolt and bruce seeks him out with some very interesting news. i love fics that display jason’s relationship with crime alley and him being one of them. very good, i love jason so much

ok now these aren't actually long fics but i need to get them out here because i love them so much and highly recommend!

To My Brother by a_silly_gander, 7k, completed, T. Lost days jason au where he starts sending post cards from his travels to dick on a whim while we follow his time away and the people he meets. i love this one so much, please read it if you love jason and dick, its so special to me.

Enhanced Fashion Sense is a Perk of Being a Cat by 12pt_timesnewromanfont, 23k, complete, G. selina breaks into drake manor to steal a cat artifact and accidentally meets the drakes ten year old son they left home alone. then she starts keeping tabs on him and eventually adopts him and makes him stray. i really love selina finding tim before bruce and taking care of him <3 10/10 i wish selina would adopt me

[ephemeral--dreams]

Making you cry during a fight (2) - Scaramouche, Yae, Kaeya

Okay guys here you go never ask me for anything ever again /j

(part 1)

☆ ☾ ☆ ──────────────────

Scaramouche

There's a sort of deep, instinctive fear that takes root inside the place where a heart would be, as he watches tears fall after a few too-harsh words. 

He's hurt you. He's been careless, he's been too difficult, too much - and it's going to drive you away. You're going to abandon him because of this incident, surely. Why would you stay with someone who makes you cry? 

It's… it's not a feeling he's dealt with for many years. The fear of being left. He has not allowed anyone to get close enough to him to have any concern over whether they're around or not. Scaramouche had learned his lesson about getting attached and having emotion, after all. He had spat out whatever  bitter words he pleased and felt nothing when he upset anyone he spoke to.

But those days are past, and while that's a good thing in many ways, right now it feels anything but. 

"I-"

"Sorry. I shouldn't be crying," the way you apologize as if you're the one in the wrong stabs right through him. You're the one crying, yet he is being wounded just as much. It's an awful thing, caring. "Just. Just give me a moment…"

Scaramouche hesitates. He's paralyzed, caught up in the idea that anything he does or says may make things worse. But what wins out is the idea of fixing it, fixing things before you give up on him—

"Stop it. You shouldn't be the one saying sorry here. I shouldn't have said that to you, alright? You should know better than to take everything I say so seriously, honestly, I-" he sighs, irritated with himself more than you, before pulling you into his embrace. You don't pull away. Good. Maybe he hasn't entirely fucked things up. "...I didn't mean it. Sorry."

Yae

Yae Miko is not the sort of person who yells during a fight. Or at any time, really. So that hadn't been at all what had happened during your little conflict. 

Rather, her words were pointed to hit where it hurt, an attempt to shut down whatever silly human nonsense you thought was worth causing a riot over. Problems came and went, and most weren't nearly as important as they may seem in the moment. Living many years had led her to this conclusion. She was a busy woman who had little interest in wasting her time arguing. 

...Calculating and perhaps dismissive she may be, but she isn't cold. Yae still very much has a heart, and it skips a beat when she realizes you're nowhere to be found at the usual time she would meet with you after finishing her shrine duties. Surely you weren't that upset over it all, right? 

No, you couldn't be still lingering on the issue hours later… 

Well, you could. Others were far more sensitive to these things, a fact she often forgot. Yae should know better. Isn't she used to highly emotional people, after all? At least your tantrums weren't going to practically destroy the nation…

She finds you at the foot of the mountain, sitting and idly staring into the distance. The tear tracks on your face are all too telling. 

Yae is not above realizing when she has done something wrong. Though she's also not one to openly apologize. She doesn't do much of anything openly. 

"You don't listen to me," you tell her. 

"Well, I'll try to listen more, then. Is that satisfactory?" She offers a hand to you. You wait a moment before taking it, allowing her to pull you up. "Just remember to consider my side of things as well. We can work on it… But let's not linger on this too long. Time is fleeting for mortals like you, hm?"

Kaeya

Kaeya is excellent at one thing - avoidance. In fact, he's been successfully avoiding you ever since your fight a couple of days ago. It's easier to simply wait until you've both cooled off. 

That's what he tells himself. It's certainly not  that the fight made him feel anxious. He's not running away from his problems, of course not.

(He's lying to himself. One wrong word and you'll leave. He knows that. It's bad enough that you had an argument, archons forbid he confronts you and it's the last straw.)

So Kaeya carefully stays out of your way, doesn't speak to you, doesn't let you catch sight of him. He'll have to deal with things eventually, he knows, but… Until then, he's content to keep things this way. Four days in you finally seek him out yourself, looking exhausted and absolutely miserable. 

"Can we- can we stop fighting? You're right, I'm wrong, all that-" He can only watch as you start breaking down in front of him, a cold, sinking feeling of guilt settling in. "...Just stop ignoring me, please?"

His life has been filled with bad decisions - it seems that he's made yet another, by avoiding you so long. Now Kaeya is faced with your tears as you practically beg for his attention. It's quite the opposite of what he intended. He reaches a careful hand to brush them away. "Shh, shh. No more, alright?"

You sniffle, looking up at him. "You're not mad at me?"

"Of course not, sweetheart. I never was. We can talk about it later, okay? Let me make you feel better."

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Ok but what if

What if Ghost was a knight (again) and then there's a spoiled, presumptuous lady who's bored (again)

She's the kind of princess who was dearly loved because she was a girl. No one knows why, because everyone knows girls are a liability. But she has been treasured and sheltered all her life, she always got everything she wanted, and now she's stupid enough to fall for Simon who has lived a life full of war and torment and who is not the kind of stray dog you would want to feed.

Our poor lady doesn't know she's playing with fire when she's toying with her father's (Price?) most loyal soldier: a brooding, tall, broad man who got his knighthood after this campaign or that. This outlander, Simon, catches her attention because he rarely speaks and never smiles, but makes her smallclothes wet because he has an ill look about him: a broken nose and a thin lipped, downturned mouth. This sir is looking everyone from under his brow like they're mere children in his eyes. The only time she's heard him speak is when he's barking orders in the courtyard.

She teases and teases and teases him: flirting every chance she can get, giving him soft brushes that barely remain within the bounds of propriety. She bestows heated stares that linger a little too long, she licks and parts her lips when they walk past each other in the cold, dimly lit corridors of the castle. He never returns any of her flirts.

Except the stares.

She can feel his eyes on her even when she's not looking. That coal-like stare is fixed on her wherever she goes: it's hot and cold at the same time, like embers that are kindling under long-forgotten ashes.

He's interested… But only in a way that a hungry, beaten, suspicious dog is interested when it's staring at a meaty bone, trying to decode if it's a treat or a trap.

He finally has enough one day when she dares to smile at him: softly, knowingly, like a whore in a tavern.

The gauntlet closes around her neck like an iron collar. She can smell the horses and the sweat and the dirty leather as the man she has dreamed of seizes her and pushes her back against a wall.

"Is this what you want? Hm?"

She finally hears him speak: dark, gravelly, and borderline exhausted from all the games she plays. Were he to hold her a little more tightly, she would call it a choke, a soft and slow strangling. The intensity is enough to make her heart flutter and her stare escape somewhere to the grey stone wall. There's no way she can meet that heated stare, now filled with flames and lust.

The knight she used to fantasize about is about to snap. The stoic, cold man is about to lose control at any given moment, and she's about to lose her maidenhood along with that shattered self-control.

He presses his whole body against her: leather and steel and hardened muscle, all that rough, well fed, thick flesh forged in countless battles is pressed against her frame like she is nothing but a flower. Her woolen dress is a poor shield against all the hard ridges of his armour, the pommel of his sword digs into her side painfully, but she pays it no mind. There's something equally as hard and demanding pressed against the apex between her legs. She's forced to rise to her toes from the way he drives his swollen cock up her cunt, and even if there's layers and layers of clothing between them, she can feel the heat of him.

"'S not a good idea to tease a starved dog," he snarls while watching her lose her confidence. All of it, because it was only ever a charade. A silly daydream of a silly young woman, just an attempt to distract herself, a pastime game that happened to turn into a dangerous obsession.

And he growls. He actually growls like a hound when she's suddenly so weak she can't even provide him with an answer. It's a dark rumble that meets her chest, a hot, slow breath that passes across her frightened skin. She feels like floating: his cock raises her from the ground as he tries to fuck into her through their clothes. The ironclad hand has never even seen mercy as it turns her head to the side for him to have a good sniff of her neck and hair.

"Sir," her lips tremble; her whole jaw is making it clear that she's about to cry soon. There's not enough stones on the wall for her to count if he decides to take her here. "Simon…? Please, sir. I'm a virgin…"

[recreationalfanfics]

Yandere Bachira/ Yandere Shidou + Obsessing Over Their Agent

Giving into their egos at the end of Blue Lock, they're used to getting everything they wanted and what they wanted next...was their cute little agent who handled their public relations and contracts♡

Characters: Bachira Meguru, Shidou Ryusei

Bachira:

"You're staring again."

Bachira blinks at your words, dazed as he slowly was brought back to reality. Huh, he must've zoned out staring at your face again. Your sharp (e/c) eyes focused on your phone, your stoic expression making his heart beat a bit more quickly in his chest, and your hair which was all fixed up and neat was just begging for his fingers to come through it with how it looked. He tilted his head to the side cutely and closed his eyes, flashing you his most charming smile.

"Can you blame me?" He chuckled, moving his way over to you. With lightning fast reflexes, you stuck your foot up in the air to stop him while still focusing on your task at hand as he whined and tried to pinch your cheek. He pouted after a few unsuccessful minutes and frowned, "Aw! You're no fun, (Y/n)-chan!"

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes but you did respond to him.

"Sir, don't be misinformed; this relationship is purely professional. I am your agent, you are my client. That is all." You spoke sternly to him as if he were a child, "Now, let's get you ready for that commercial shoot."

Just a client, huh?

Bachira sighs and holds his chest where his heart would be and looks at you with his big yellow puppy dog eyes: "That hurts, (Y/n)! After everything we've been through!"

Again, his attempts were met with silence and he frowned, seeing that you were still focused on your phone. That's not fair, (Y/n), so many people would've absolutely killed to be in your shoes in this moment and you have the audacity to brush him off? Fine, he'll just have to make it clear that there was no one else but you.

- He makes everything difficult for everyone if it doesn't involve you, he's still likeable, but everyone just talks about how he's a bit too energetic to stay still. You can't tell how many times make up crews, directors, and training coaches or even other players had to shyly come up to you and make Bachira comply with their wishes because "he behaves when you're around".

- Many times Bachira tries to make it appear you two are a couple; telling you that he loves you as you do his foundation for his upcoming interviews, excitedly running at you in between commercial breaks to ask you if he did well, and often wanting to take you out for casual outings as celebration but you declined. You didn't want to feed into whatever delusion he had in his head about you two.

- You tried to be a bit personal and suggest he try out some sports modeling, casually mentioning how a current model heart throb was interested in collaborating with him in hopes that it'd be enough to get him to move on but he frowned and shook his head. NO! He's not posing for pictures with anyone, especially not for some random model, if its not you!

- Even though you're in charge of his social media; he will still post pictures of you to his own account, admiring how cute you are when you're in the zone, or just captioning the photo with a simple: "Mine♥️💕" and even though you tell him to delete those photos everytime, you feel a bit uneasy when you realize you didn't even notice him pulling out his phone and getting these photos until he tagged you in them. You just hope he doesn't have anymore photos of you that you didn't know about.

- Bachira is without a doubt obsessive, he gets giddy when you call him because he believes one of these days you'll wake up and realize you love him back just as much, only to be slightly dissapointed when you are merely calling him to discuss contract details. That's fine, though! One of these days you're going to have to face the reality that you two were meant to be together♡

- You're just like him after all! It's just that you want to dominate a different field than him. Your goals are similar, be the best that Japan has to offer, making sure that Bachira succeeds on and off the field helps ensure your own success, and while you didn't want to deal with his annoying behavior all the time; it'd be a foolish choice to quit working for him. You think that he knows that too because he'll always try to test the waters of your relationship, never really believing your threats of switching to a different player.

- Because even if you didn't love him, you needed him, just as he needed you. Surely you'll end up loving him back, though, after all: there was no one else in his eyes besides you. So he'll work hard to be the best, not just for Japan, but for you. Each goal he makes, he looks at you and sees the briefest smile on your face and it drives him wild the rest of the game to keep scoring and scoring.

- Don't think you've tamed the monster inside of him, though. Because it'll never be truly satisfied until it finally has you. All of you.

Shidou:

"Why're you buying flowers for that asshole?"

You felt a shiver go up your spine, feeling Shidou's sharp chin resting on your shoulder and feeling his warm breath on the back of your right ear, he was still a little sweaty from his daily drills and workouts...technically, he should've been working out still but his fitness coaches knew the moment you stepped into the room that he wouldn't be able to focus on anything but you.

"Technically, you're buying him flowers," You corrected, moving away from him. He raised an eyebrow but kept a deadpan face as you turned around to explain to him, "Shido, you're already controversial. You played way too hard and broke that man's ankle. Sending flowers is the least you could do."

Aw, give him some credit...he could've done a lot worse if he wanted too but he managed to restrain himself from doing that, all for you. Plus, it was entirely the other guy's fault anyways. That asshole was eyeing you up and down when you weren't looking and jokingly told Ryusei that he wished he had an agent that was as hot as you were instead of his current old and grumpy one. Shido knew he had the best things: the best cars, the best shoes, the best career a soccer player could ask for...but you were different. You were one of the things he had that made him the best, flipping his controversies into picturing him as this passionate player whose just motivated to represent his country, but you were meant for only him to admire. Everyone else is allowed to stare at you two with envy and jealously but that's ALL.

"I'm not sending him no damn flowers and neither are you." He scoffed, taking your phone from your hand and canceling the order. You frowned and tried to grab it back from him, he raised it above his head am to force you to reach for it and when you raised one arm and stood on both your tippy toes, he used his free arm to hook it around your waist and pull you close to him. Pining you against the wall, his pink eyes focused on you in a way that a predator would eye its prey.

"Quit thinkin' about some nobody player. You're MY agent."

- Before you, Shidou went through a lot of agents. Agents who quit on the spot because he was impossible to work with, agents who just stormed out of the doors because they couldn't take anymore, agents who still badmouth him to the public and feeding into his reputation.

- Then you walked in through those doors. Steely gazed, chin up and proud. You were cute, that's for sure, but you weren't gonna be any different then the rest of them. At least, thats what he had originally thought. You never lost your mind over the way he played, you never complained about how he was making your job impossible, and you never lost your cool.

- You were a professional at your job, you knew how to make him appeal to the audience and frame him in a better light while also making sure he didn't have to change too much...because he would never change. So you would work with what you had, how did the saying go? There's no such thing as bad publicity.

- Unlike Bachira, you just being there isn't gonna make him behave. If you're gonna make him do some lame ass photoshoot then he better be getting something out of it. At first it was just things like arranging a deal with a brand he liked, setting up a soccer match with some good players only for him to absolutely ruin them. He started to like you because of those things.

- However it escalated one day when he asked for something that took you off gaurd. A kiss. It was for an interview and he refused to let anyone touch him so they all ran crying to you, he instantly looked at you as you put a gentle hand on his shoulder and asked him what he wanted this time so you both could get through this.

- He didn't even really think about it either, he was a little shocked when he said it himself but he was just mesmerized by your lips that he wondered what it'd be like to kiss them. So he wanted to find out. You were flustered, rightfully so and tried to bargain with him but he was dead set on that kiss...oh well...it was one measly kiss. So you kissed his cheek and he frowned, not exactly what he wanted but you did give him what he wanted technically.

- But yeah, that just kinda sparked his obsession with you and his obsession isn't what you should be concerned about. It's his possessive nature, you work for him so you belong to him. He doesn't like you talking to other people most of the time, constantly grabbing your phone and hanging up important calls when the conversation goes somewhere he doesn't like or deems isn't as important as him.

- Shidou knows he doesn't love you but love isn't exactly on either of your radars since your focused on your career, which only does well as long as Shido's does well. It doesn't stop him from looking at you tying his tie for him, imagining you doing something more intimate than a mere kiss on the cheek, to take you out on fancy dates and buy you nice things and all the crap (he's tried before but you always refuse) and when he wakes up in the morning, he wonders how different it would be if you were next to him. He might love you but overall, it's a matter of possession. You belong to him. No one else.

[florenceafternoon]

━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━

These fics are set in the wizarding world but aren’t necessarily canon complaints.

For reference, anything in italics is taken from the summaries on ao3.

Gilded by @charmingwillow

Beneath her jumper, her heart was fluttering fast. Her free hand rubbed at the spot, willing it to calm. Her eyes ached from all the nights she spent awake, unable to sleep because it hadn’t calmed in days. Weeks.

She knew why; beneath her fingertips, under the soft cotton of her sweater, her skin tingled. She knew without seeing that the spot above her heart sparkled faintly with gold, like stars spinning in the cosmos. Scattered and dancing around a name that wouldn't quite focus. It was as beautiful as it was terrifying.

Someone, somewhere, was falling in love with her. They were close enough that Lily could feel a tug of alignment if she concentrated enough.

Or, Lily and James go on a walk in the forest.

Sunshine in My Eyes (requires an ao3 account) by monroeslittle

Mr. and Mrs. Evans are killed when Lily's only a girl, and she's supposed to go to a home with her sister. Instead, a relative they didn't know they had comes to collect them, and introduces Lily to manners, magic, and a life that's just the slightest bit different from the life she was supposed to live.

Or, an AU in which Minerva McGonagall raises Lily.

Dying Fires by @jamesunderwater

In fifth year, James attempts to comfort Lily by a dying fire - but finds this will require restraint on his part in a number of ways.

Their tentative, developing friendship is something so special to me

basic maths by @gigglesandfreckles-hp

Euphemia cuts Sirius off sharply. “I was simply verifying whether this is indeed the same Lily Evans whose name is written under my dining room table with a heart around it.”

or Lily meets the parents and James tries not to hyperventilate. over and over and over again.

Blue Jay by @neurowriter14

In a world with magic, the only thing that really took Lily by surprise, and trepidation, was the fact that she had a soulmate.

All That's Known by @women-inthe-sequel

Wizards view nearly everything as a problem for magic to fix. Other people might view him that way, but James has never felt broken. He doesn’t need to be wound like an old-fashion toy and programmed to do what everyone else does.

I am in desperate need of more deaf!James (or deaf!Lily). Please can someone recommend me fics

just like a tattoo by sleepygirl0305 (on ao3)

Shortly after he witnesses Remus and Sirius realize that they're soulmates, James gets his own soulmate tattoo. A fairly inconvenient time, given that there is a war going on. And N.E.W.Ts. But no matter, he was going to try anyway.

A Happy Thought by @thelighthousestale

The 7th year Defense Against the Dark Arts Class learns the Patronus Charm.

James is shocked to learn what Lily's Patronus is.

I know that this is a very cliché trope but I'm a sucker for patronus fics.

The Boy (in the bedroom) Next Door by @eastwindmlk

Lily Evans has to move in with her new potion's teacher to finish her apprenticeship. There is one small issue, said teacher? Fleamont Potter, father of infinitely annoying and frustratingly fit former rival James Potter. Who she has not seen after leaving Hogwarts after her third year.

Put on Bed Rest also by @/ eastwindmlk

Hogwarts is covered in snow and James Potter is sick. Who better than Lily to nurse him back to health.

May Moon by Elynn (on ao3)

May Moon- also known as the Flower Moon or Blooming Moon, due to the abundance of flowers that occur as spring arrives.

She glanced up, catching sight of Mary and Marlene in the crowd of unsorted first years, the both of them bouncing on their toes as a new student was called up. She’d already made two friends (she hoped) and Lily was always a bit of an overachiever. “Hiya,” she said, doing her best to sound upbeat. The boy—Lupin—looked up at her, face a bit shocked. “I’m Lily.”

or sixth year, a bad pick-up line, and a secret.

Not really a jily fic (it's pre-relationship) but I really wanted to include it in this rec list

Accidental Magic by @missgryffin

What else is there to do after confessing feelings in the middle of the night than spend a lazy Saturday in bed?

Hell Is Empty (And All The Devils Are Here) by @nodirectionhome-ao3

When an Order mission takes an unexpected turn, James and Lily find themselves stranded together. In the aftermath of the chaos, sheltering together through the storm, a fire catches between them.

Ignore the fact that I can't remember if I've recommended this fic or not. Regardless, the back-and-forth between James and Lily is so good in this fic.

Starlight by @suzyq31

Under the cover of stars, Lily and James go out in search of an elusive flower. The northern lights make Lily contemplate how plans change.

The next few fics are all by @apalapucian because I may or may not have been stalking her ao3 page. Everything, and I mean everything, Jayne writes is incredible.

maybe it was egos swinging (maybe it was her)

James starts rolling his shoulders, wincing. "Jesus, Evans." "back at ya," says Lily, testing her wrists. "ever heard of taking it easy?" "with you? never." "can’t believe you’d use confringo on me." "knew you'd block it," he says. "can’t believe you’d use depulso." she shrugs, grinning. "knew you'd block it."

(or: seventh-year, auror-aspirant, academic rivals, head boy and head girl James and Lily.)

I still can't get over the fact that Jayne wrote me over 11 thousand words of academic rivals jily. ELEVEN THOUSAND WORDS OF ACADEMIC RIVALS TO LOVERS JILY!! The banter, the stakes, I love everything about this fic

calliope calling

in which:

James wields a wand for the first time; Lily giggles, tracing an impossible dancing deer in the sky; Sirius slams the door; Peter sighs; and Remus screams, raw and screeching and piercingly young.

(or: the marauders and lily evans as children, and something about invisible strings glinting in the moonlight.)

green light

There are yellow roses on the kitchen table. a cup of coffee charmed to keep warm for a time. a scrawled "morning! :) –James & Harry" on a scrap of paper, the torn bottom of a receipt for... milk, she finds. and strawberries. harry was signed by Harry himself, and Lily wants to cry at the shaky strokes, the crooked lines. she can hear them in the other room where James' window seat project is almost finished. harry is laughing. he asks questions, mocks his dad's shabby handiwork, drops the things he's asked to hand.

roses and handwritten notes and coffee and giggles nearby. this is her life now. she skims the flowers, the sun itself in her heart.

or: the war is over. everybody lives AU. (well, not everybody everybody, but the potter family + sirius + remus + even peter* live.) old fic rewrite.

* = you'll see.

bad day wall

Lily calls it the bad day wall. it's like this weird communal one-liner diary thing.

every time i think i'm over her something happens and it hits me just as stupidly intense as all the other times. i'm SICK of it

why can't people just LIKE by default the people they LOVE? why do they have to be separate feelings? it would make things so much less complicated

or: in sixth year, Lily starts talking to a stranger(?) through messages on a wall. she also befriends James Potter. These two things are completely not related.

I haven't read this one but it on my marked for later

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Bad Latin

Fandom: My Lady Jane Pairing: Jane x Guildford Rating: E Word Count: 3285

Summary: The night the guards raid the tavern in search of Archer and his Ethian pack, Jane accepts the rude man's offer (and Susannah's advice), fleeing out the side door. If they're caught, they'll have to be convincing. Good thing Jane's lust is no act.

They stare at one another through the treads of the staircase, Jane and Susannah. The man—the rude, attractive man secreted in here with her—tugs Jane back by her upper arm and Susannah lurches forward. Jane recalls a turned ankle, a day years ago when Susannah came to her sheepishly, limping after she’d put her foot wrong dismounting from a horse. It’s the same motion.

And then Susannah is leaning on the steps, candlelit face growing shadowy as she peers into Jane’s darkened alcove. Jane wrenches free of the man’s uncertain grip; who is he to hold her back? She thrusts her hands between the treads to grip Susannah’s fiercely.

“Come with me,” she blurts. Seeing Susannah now, alive and apparently unhurt, is almost as startling as watching her transfigure into a hawk and take flight. Jane’s concern for her friend’s life is far greater than the confusing sense of betrayal she experienced the moment she learned Susannah is Ethian, so she repeats her plea, “Come. Please, Susannah.”

Susannah’s expression of surprise at the sight of Jane deadens and she shakes her head.

The guards continue their rampage, smacking tankards off tables and smiles off the faces of the tavern’s unprepared patrons. The man at Jane’s back clearly decides the guards are coming a little too near, because he places an urgent hand on her waist and attempts to draw her deeper into the shadows. Jane shoves him off without looking in his direction. Her eyes are fixed on Susannah’s face, and she sees her glance between the two of them. Her expression briefly re-enlivens with the ghost of former times. There’s a faint smirk.

“Go on,” she says. “For me.”

Jane sighs impatiently. She is not going to abandon Susannah in order to mess around with that man. The thought of such a thing—of feelings that might make a woman like Esther find it impossible to keep to her own bed even with an inflamed vagina—may have been on Jane’s mind before, but guards and Ethians and the accompanying uproar make that all a bit complicated.

But there’s something more in Susannah’s eyes than a dare for Jane to go off and fuck a stranger. She means survive, Jane realizes. She means be smart and adaptable. While these aren’t exactly weaknesses for Jane, it’s true that her attempts at spontaneity usually fail. Her and Susannah’s short-lived escape proved that. Projects like her book of medicines testify to the opposite: with time, effort, and careful study, Jane is capable of incredible discoveries and achievements. Then again, it took so very little time for the whole thing to burn to ashes. Maybe meticulousness isn’t her strong suit either.

As Jane’s thoughts flow frantically, Susannah untangles their fingers.

“Get out of here,” she says. And, probably because Jane’s eyes continue to beg, she adds, “I’ll be fine,” before shoving away from the steps. She’s just glanced away from Jane when a guard claps his hand on her shoulder, spinning Susannah towards him for questioning.

Jane staggers back with a gasp caught somewhere in her throat. This time, when the man catches hold of her, taking up the hand Susannah so lately released, Jane doesn’t push him away. She matches his grip. When he throws the door open, she flees with him into the night.

There are more guards out here, guards carrying torches they swish around corners, scanning every likely hiding place.

“Can you run?” the man asks her, which is so insulting a question that Jane can only answer it with a look of disdain.

Wordlessly, they wait for the same thing, and when it comes—an opening where the path between their position and the woods clears—they sprint together across the hardpacked dirt, stumbling into the trees.

They crash through the undergrowth, but the ground is uneven and, away from the tavern, the light quickly fades. Their passage is clumsy enough to ensure they’ll be easily tracked, should they be pursued. And how far can they get, really? In darkness, with nothing, not even each other’s name?

The man seems to be coming to the same conclusion; he turns to Jane wearing a look of determination.

“We should hide in plain sight,” he suggests. More than suggests—he speaks the words like an edict (tosser). Lucky for him, Jane has already weighed the options and is ready to agree.

He keeps staring at her, dark eyes annoyingly compelling and distracting. As if there weren’t enough on her mind.

“Do you understand?” he checks.

Solemnly, she nods. She blinks to focus her thoughts. She remembers Susannah taking to the sky when escape over land became unviable.

“We have to climb a tree,” she says. Thick, sturdy branches. Concealing foliage. The perfect hiding place.

The man’s expression distorts as he openly scoffs at her.

“No,” he says. “It means kissing.”

“Kissing?”

He cocks an eyebrow.

“And then some, if we’re to be convincing as two people who wandered away from the tavern before all the excitement and became too caught up in one another to hear the commotion.”

The way he glances at her mouth makes it clear he will not find this a difficult role to play. With this look, and the dark, and the relative isolation, Jane is thinking, Why not? What harm? It seems as good a plan as any for waiting out the guards’ terrorization of the tavern, when she’ll be able to ditch this man and go looking for any trace of Susannah, any hint that tells Jane she is safe, or where Jane might find her. When she does, they’ll greet each other properly, then smile conspiratorially over the memory of that man in that tavern, and Jane will divulge her tale of sexual exploration and empowerment—

Until the man absolutely ruins it, snapping her out of her reunion fantasy with the words, “Wonderful. Get on your knees.”

“I beg your pardon,” Jane grits out. Her fists clench, and either because of that or the fire in her eyes, the man pauses in the middle of unbuckling his belt.

She feels just as affronted as she knows she must look—at his easy assumption, at the memory of the shape of the stable boy’s head beneath Susannah’s skirts back home.

Gallingly, the man seems to be able to read her mind. He spreads his hands defensively, even stomps his heel in what could be the reflexive way he summons attention (she is reminded of his lithe mounting of a tavern table). Or it’s simply petulance.

“I can’t very well get on mine,” he argues. “A woman caught receiving the sort of pleasure I could give would be highly suspicious. An unsuspicious woman gets on her knees.”

With a flick of his wrists, he points at the ground with both hands.

Before Jane can dispute his self-serving statements (which she would have to do blushing, helplessly curious), there is the crackle of sticks being trodden upon, underbrush brushed aside by the thudding passage of a person in heavy boots. A person who moves without hesitation, as though searching the forest around the tavern for fleeing Ethians. A guard.

Jane meets the man’s eyes with alarm. It’s clear he shares it. For perhaps the first time in her life, she takes a conscious step backward. Actually, a literal step backward, until her back is pressed against a wide trunk. The man steps forward, bows his face to hers. She expects him to move quickly, claim her mouth with rough, thoughtless passion. His unhurried intention surprises her.

In the chilling air, Jane feels their warm, mingled breath on her face. It’s as if there are bubbles in her blood, fizzing, making her light. Again, his eyes are on her mouth. She feels her own lids lower as her cheeks flush with desire. Their lips just meet in a first, teasing graze when the guard stomps into their hiding place.

Jane’s companion leans away from her with genuine reluctance, shifting his gaze to the intruder.

The scowling guard swiftly takes them in and gets right to it: “What’re you two doing?”

“What does it look like?” the man replies, his tone so lacking in sarcasm that the question comes across even more condescending. So, Jane thinks, he’s rude to everyone. She hopes it won’t cost them their lives, regretting that she threw her lot in with his by following him through the door.

“You know an Archer?” the guard demands, ignoring the response.

“Afraid I’m more familiar with knives.”

“You meet anyone unusual at the tavern tonight?”

“We weren’t even in the tavern.”

The guard narrows his eyes. This response disturbs his stream of questions. Hands down at her sides, Jane clutches nervously at tree bark.

“Really,” the guard says, the word hard and accusing, “because we’ve been interrogating people who say there was a poet who disappeared in the confusion.”

“Ah! He was drunk.” The man nods in apparent comprehension.

“Not his confusion, our confusion.”

“If you’re that confused, maybe you shouldn’t be interrogating people.”

Before this piece of wit can infuriate the guard, Jane interrupts.

“The general confusion,” she interprets. Her hands now itch to throttle the man, so she grips harder at the gritty bark. “We quite understand.”

But she is entirely ignored. Story of her fucking life.

“The poet was speaking Latin.” The guard squints distrustfully at the man. “Do you speak Latin?”

“Believe me,” Jane says brightly, “he cannot speak Latin.”

She covers the man’s mouth when he seems poised to try. There’s a mumble as he protests from behind her hand.

“What was that?” the guard asks sharply.

Jane beams. “I didn’t say anything.”

The man—bane of her existence that he has rapidly become—licks her palm and she instinctively lets go of his face.

“I said,” he says, “I’m better with tongues.” He has the nerve to shoot Jane a sultry, significant look. Her body has the nerve to respond to it. She feels the blooming heat, the racing heart. Almost instantly, the air between them is clouded by lust.

The guard breaks the spell with the blunt repetition of “Tongues?”

The man redirects his attention with obvious frustration.

“Speaking in tongues,” he clarifies. “Rather than Latin.”

“Though he rarely does as he’s enough of an idiot in English,” Jane jumps in helpfully.

The guard studies them with unguarded hostility.

“Anyone who’s being uncooperative will be dunked.”

The man swings his head to face Jane again.

“Fancy getting wet?”

Before she can quit trying to manage his unpredictable responses and take her turn at pure, unadulterated, incautious rudeness that could very well end with her drowning, the guard seems to decide he’s wasted enough time on the two of them.

“Never mind,” he says. “She’s no Ethian.” A jerk of his chin indicates Jane. “Such a state of agitation as she’s in now surely would’ve triggered the transformation.”

Jane scoffs at his total contempt for her, but he turns and walks off, back towards the tavern.

“You don’t suspect me of being Ethian?” the object of her combined lust and aggravation calls after him.

Too late, Jane elbows him hard to be quiet, but of course the guard turns.

“No,” he says.

“Might I ask why?”

“Some people’s evil. Some’s just irritating.”

With that succinct sentiment, the guard takes permanent leave of them.

“You’re a fool,” Jane says when they’re alone. Her voice is almost awed at his baffling recklessness. She slumps back against the tree with her arms crossed. “You could’ve gotten us killed.”

“You know an Ethian,” he counters, and his point is clear.

“You didn’t turn me in.”

“I still could.” A blatant lie, accompanied by a teasing look that holds no malice. She hates that she smiles. Hates how it encourages him—for he edges back towards her and tilts his chin invitingly. “Buy my silence?”

“How dare you.” Jane aims for severe and gets breathy. “I will not be blackmailed.”

In the time it takes her to blink once, she decides that, between the way he successfully (however foolhardy were his methods) got rid of the guard and the way he looks wrapped in shadows, the man is too alluring to merit her further resistance. Her smile widens as she declares, “I’m doing this for fun.”

His approach may be unexpectedly deliberate, but Jane left finesse back home with her finely chopped and gently ground herbs; in every sense, she throws herself at him, sealing their lips.

Following the force of their collision, the man winds his arms around her waist and returns her ardour. Then this is kissing, she thinks. Nice. The act addresses two urges at once: her lust and her need for him to shut up. It’s actually so nice that the sanctimoniousness of preserving her virginity up to this point falls away with near-physical relief. Why not? she thinks, over and over and over, changing the angle of her head, feeling the tongue that licked her palm steal enticingly behind her lower lip. The heat of his hands on her is a defence against the cooling night, their pressure a promise of the study he would like to make of her. What a change to experience something new that she doesn’t want to run from.

Jane grasps the back of his neck. When she kneads her strong fingers into his skin, he groans. A tingle races up her back because the look on his face when he draws slightly away from her says the noise surprised them both. It’s tempting, as he closes the distance again, nose delicately nudging hers, to take hold of that belt of his and bring his hips forward. Her skirts will flatten to make room. But she knows—from the experience of seeing if not doing—once a man’s member is involved, a woman’s pleasure is too often forgotten. If he’s going to respond like that to her fingers on his neck, stimulation of more private areas could cause the total collapse of his senses. And unless he has enough presence of mind to attend to her satisfaction, she’s not interested in getting senselessly fucked against a tree.

So, before their lips can meet, she gives his chest a shove, propelling him backward. Sweeping her hair aside, Jane crouches. She’s unlacing her boots when she thinks to glance up and check his reaction (she, perhaps, does not have all her wits about her either). He’s looking down at her, grinning expectantly.

“Oh, I’m not staying down here,” she explains. “Just don’t want to get dirt on your back.”

He doesn’t seem unhappy to have his expectations overturned, waiting while Jane lobs her boots aside. When she stands, he sinks, and she understands the look he gave her because it is quite something to see the knife-hurling, guard-abusing, tavern bard on his knees at her stocking feet. Lightly, he touches her ankle. Jane swallows and raises her foot to his shoulder, lightheaded when she presses down a little and he tenses to take the pressure, eyes locked on hers. His hand strokes up her calf, guiding her leg forward, and by the time he’s gripping the underside of her thigh, her foot indeed rests against his back.

With a wink and no further ado, he ducks under her skirts. Jane’s heart pounds, gallops, over the mystery of where his next touch might fall. It comes as his lips trailing up her thigh—light, over her stocking, but impossibly arousing with the barrier of her skirts between them, watched from above by naked stars.

Will it be worth not trying to stick with Susannah? Worth slinking away in the night rather than attempting to stand up for the people too drunk or belligerent to run from the guards? Stop it, Jane tells herself, squeezing her eyes shut. Survive so you can treat sickness and disease in the future. Survive so you can help people then.

The man’s mouth inches up to the crook of her hip, and then to another place no man has ever touched, certainly not with his lips. The tongue that licked her palm and teased inside her mouth delves into the cleft of her and Jane releases a shuddering cry. He bragged about the pleasure he could give her like this, did he not? What a tremendously arrogant thing to boast—and how tremendously elated she is to discover it wasn’t unfounded.

Gripping her thigh, he pulls her close and thrusts his face between her legs, his head completing a slow nod with every pass he gives her with his tongue. A mix of his saliva and her slick release soon seems to coat everything, everything that matters, everything he traces again and again while Jane trembles on one foot, her other leg clamped around him. She can hear the sounds he’s making, the muffled sounds of his own pleasure. She has a manic craving to clutch his hair (those lush, dark curls), but fears it would be too intimate. Instead, she grabs the back of his head through her skirts—for balance, for leverage, inexactly positioning him to rock herself across his tongue.

Apparently unwilling to submit entirely to her control, he makes her feel the edge of his teeth. Which only makes her emit a ragged moan. She doesn’t hear words, but his lips move and reshape themselves against her, and she wonders if she’s being spoken against, spoken into. She wonders—absently, as even these strange caresses of his mouth heighten her pleasure—if it’s Latin.

The back of Jane’s head is thrashing back and forth against the tree, her hair snagging on the bark, when the man takes her nude hips firmly in his grasp and laps at her mercilessly. His tongue burrows inside her, undulating there, before withdrawing so he can close his lips around the nub with which she has played on nights she had herself convinced a man would be of no use to her. Well. It appears that, like the winter a fleeting but highly contagious illness descended upon Bradgate House, she is not immune.

Jane’s back arches, her head scraping against the tree, as she cries out to the heavens. The blissful sensations begin where his mouth touches and streak through her like the shooting stars her dazed vision may only be imagining. It’s possible that she shivers into starlight herself. Her hips hitch and hitch against his face as her hands cradle the swathed base of his skull. This happens involuntarily and she doesn’t try to stop it.

When stars quit falling and the feeling ebbs and her hips finally slow, she’s gasping, feeling loose and tired like she’s been swimming or knocked over the head. With his help, her leg slides limply from the man’s shoulder. He emerges from beneath her skirts lingeringly wiping his mouth. He looks proud of himself. In Jane’s estimation, he should be.

Though the light cast by the tavern is very dim, it’s enough that the swelling in his breeches does not go unobserved once he stands before her. She stares at him for a minute in contemplation, but no, not her problem.

“Thanks,” Jane says simply, stepping back into her boots.

The man exhales a noise of disbelief.

“Thanks?” he echoes, hands on his hips.

Not wanting to give him false hope, she lifts her feet one at a time to tie her laces rather than crouching again. It nearly unbalances her to shrug while her fingers work, but she manages before planting her boots on the forest floor once more.

“Veni, vidi, vici,” she says. She cocks her head flirtatiously and adds, “Maybe we can do it again sometime.”

[rhadamanthes]

The chosen one. demon!Toji x reader

word count : 3,5k

warnings: reader is kinda dumb, oral f receiving, face sitting, choking (very light), mention of spanking, horns tails and inhuman attributes, breeding, biting, obsessive behavior, clueless reader kinda, scent kink, soft toji, fluff,

You close the door behind you, happy to be finally home. You quickly take off your shoes making your way to the bedroom you stop in your tracks seeing a man looking out the window. At first you freeze and take the nearest weapon type of object you could find. But then you remember that you made a complaint about the window not properly closing in your bedroom so that must be the handyman that came to fix it! Odd that he's already inside before you but whatever if it means that you wouldn't feel the cold air seeping through at night you don't care.

"Hello! Are you here to fix the window? Did you find the problem?" you say in a cheerful way.

"Get out" the man answers in a stone cold voice not even facing you.

You freeze at his tone but don't take it personally. Some people hate presence around them when they work and you understand that 

" Sure i'll leave you to it but can you just tell me if you find the-" "Get out of my house" he repeats louder not even letting you finish your sentence. 

He's facing you now and the color of his eyes strike you, a deep green that reminds you of emeralds. Analyzing the rest of his face you notice the scar on his lips and his slightly tanned skin. He sure is handsome but his rudeness puts you off. And then his words hit you "his house" what did he mean by that you moved in a couple of weeks ago to get closer from your workplace. Looking around you recognized your personal items, so you didn't enter the wrong door. What the hell is happening?

"Huh i think you're mistaken I live here" you laugh nervously. One of his hands goes to your neck applying light pressure on it. You close your eyes shut, scared of what's coming next. But nothing happens and his hand is so warm it almost makes you want to moan. When you open your eyes again you gasp in surprise, the man before you have changed in a blink of an eye. Horns are now adorning his scalp and a grey veil has fallen upon his eyes but you still clearly distinguish the rich color of his orbs. This doesn't even feel real , is it a prank ? Standing on your tippy toes you touch his horns with your index finger to make your mind up. It feels like wood under your skin they're as black as his hair but glossy "Oh my god real horns". He dashes backward at your touch  if you weren't so close you would have missed it. He is so fast. He looks surprised from your act, his eyes are wide.

"Sorry did that hurt, I was just curious I'm sorry" you blurt in embarrassment.

 "Just get out." He growls. 

You see something moving agitatedly behind his back, focusing you realize it's a tail  as jet black and glossy as his horns.You don't have the time to make another observation that he is pushing you to the door. You dig your feet in the ground balancing your body weight back to stop him as best as you can. He growls still pushing you. Damn he's strong as hell. in a last attempt to reason him, You turn around looking him in the eyes.

"How can this be your house? I've been here two weeks and it's the first time I'm seeing you!" you say trying to sound menacing. 

If you believe your eyes this guy is most likely a demon or another cursed celestial being that you are not aware of and he is clearly overpowering you so you better start to put your game on.

"You think i'd show myself with all these stupid movers going back and forth?" he tones angrily "No one has ever stayed this long" he says diverting his gaze from yours. 

"Wait so the water damage was you?" he nods "and the power outage?" another nod "the window?" you ask defeated slumping your shoulders. He almost looks guilty nodding once more. 

"Why did you stay through all of this?" he asks genuinely curious. 

You let out a long sigh " This is working for me. It's close to work and the neighbourhood is nice. It's the best apartment I've ever lived in by far so a few technical difficulties doesn't seem like a lot compared to what I had before."  You take his hands in yours shivering at the warmth again "Look I'm sure we can make this work, I'll arrange a bed for you and I'll leave you to your occupations whatever they are" you say hopeful, not being sure what demons do in their free time. 

"And what makes you think that I want this ? I've been living here for more than 20 years" he scoff

This makes you wonder how old he is, his kind sure not age the same as human "Wow that's a lot of sabotage" you say, still not fully grasping what's happening. A smirk crosses his lips at your words. 

"Fine I give you one week if I'm not satisfied by then you'll be out." 

You squeal in excitement hugging his large body. The heat that emane from it is surreal but once again horns and tail so you don't mind. He is quick to push you away hissing in a cat manner before disappearing down the corridor.

 ✿      ۪⋆

You passed your trial week with flying colors ! Living with a demon was not as terrible as you thought it would be. He's calm and mostly roams around the house at night. You tried to see what he's doing when he's up but he always senses your presence and stops when he knows you're around.  It  took him 8 days to reveal his name : Toji. A beautiful name and yet he always seems surprised when you call it. Through the course of your roomating you learned that his demon attributes are most of the time present, You asked him once if it hurts when he hides them and he just gave you one of his dead stares that constitute an answer on their own. The  difference is his eyes, they're not always in "dark mode" as you like to call it, the veil only appears when he has strong emotions. You find it cute but will never tell him he'll kick you out for sure or worse. Having him around made your day significantly less gloomy, sure he is not talkative and doesn't contribute a lot to the chores of the house but knowing that he'll be here when you cross the door makes you feel lighter. It's like having a pet. You chuckle at that thought locking the door behind you. Time has passed now and it's been almost three month since you first moved in. You could say that he warmed up to you, a routine installed itself. As soon as he hears the door click he comes to greet you in his own way. He takes the coat from your shoulder and sniffs it in various spots. The first time he did this you didn't know how to react just staring dumbfounded. Then he told you that he could smell another demon on your clothes and ever since you've been trying to figure out who could be one at your workplace. Today is no exception. 

"Have you found it yet?" he asks, hanging your coat, you shake your head negatively. He then proceeds to dip his nose in your clothed collarbone. He goes down to your chest under your arms  and down to your rump. 

"Toji!" you squeal pushing his head out of your body "Stop doing this, seriously" you say trying to sound strict but you're all frustrated from his proximity. 

"Your period is coming" he says with a sly smirk, his tail swishing slowly behind him. 

Heat rises to your cheeks and you rush past him to hide in your room.Sitting on your bed and saying to yourself that you need to sit down with Toji, set boundaries and be firm with him. He actually listens to you, sometimes you go on and on  about your days. He sits attentively making witful comments. The only problem is that he distaste being told what to do. You let your back hit the mattress, a sigh escaping your lips, maybe you need a bath first to relax before confronting him. 

Robe in hand you enter the bathroom, you gasp upon seeing Toji in all his devilish glory lounging in the warm water. His head is laying back, his large body hidden in the water while his tail rests on the side of the tub. His eyes are closed but you distinguish a smirk playing on his features. The anger bubbles up in your chest, you stomp your feet on the floor.

"Toji! I told you to warn me when you use the bathroom!"  you yell losing any ounce of patience you had left. His tail taps against the tub showing his annoyance, he always does this he even spanks you with it when he's mad at you for something you did or said. 

"You're very unpleasant today, did something happen at work?" he says, yawning.

"I had a long day and I just want to relax so get out."

"Uh uh I just got in you better join if you want to get cleaned up" he states rolling his head your way to look at you. 

In defeat you put your hands over your eyes, when did he become sassy ? The colocation was great this far, you're too tired to argue and you'll never earn his respect if you bend to every of his whims. Making a quick work of your clothes you throw it in his face to blind him while you get into the tub. The warm water engulfes your naked  body, you're able to relax, still holding your knees close to your chest, hiding your breasts. You close your eyes unwinding at the soft sound of the water hitting the sides of the tube.A swirl of waves tickle your body, you open your eyes. Toji's back is now facing in your direct eyesight, you never noticed how many scars litter his body, you kind of feel bad, even if he's a demon he never hurted you, and even appears friendly from time to time. Did people of his kind do this ? or was he mistreated amongst humans ? Is it the reason he isolates himself ?  Before you can ask your questions he shakes his head left to right like a wet dog. You understand his silent request, applying shampoo on his scalp mindful of the horns on top. The more you rub circles motion the more you hear a faint vibrating noise coming from him, is he purring ? You accentuate the pressure and it gets louder. You stop your movement, shocked at your discovery, that's so cute! His tail wraps around your wrist urging you to continue. You oblige, going for a few more minutes before you let your head rest on his back, tired of holding your hand in the air, he is so much taller than you ! Sticking your ear to his skin , from this close the sound you heard earlier is more like a fire crackling. That would explain the body temperature.  

Washed and dried you tend to your skincare routine while toji lingers in the bathroom. His towel hangs low on his hips, you can't help but wonder if his devil attributes apply down there. Heat rises to your cheeks. You try to focus on which product goes to your face next but you only think about seeing him naked now. you close your eyes, biting your lips.  A familiar churn grows in your belly you haven't got laid in so long you're about to act up. When you open your eyes again, Toji is right behind you, the veil has fallen upon his eyes, you turn to face him concerned as to why it appears now. 

"Are you o-"  "I can smell it" he cut you off. You gaze at your hand "The cream ? yeah it's a botanica-'' He cut you off again but this time it's because his head is crooked in your neck he takes a big sniff out of it like he's scared you would disappear. He tries to go down again "Toji! i already told you to-" "You're excited, i can fucking smell it" he reply looking in your eyes. 

You're mortified just standing in front of him exposed, at your depravity. Of course he would smell your arousal, he smells other people on your clothes, so your own scent won't go unnoticed.  He's bent over you, eyes wide, tail buzzing behind him like he's ready to pounce on you. And he does, locking firm arms around your back you're engulfed in his chest as he breathes in your scent  from your temple down to your shoulder groaning in the process. Suddenly he lifts you on his shoulder rushing through the door. He crosses the corridor fast and drags you to his bedroom. He dumps you on his bed and you look around, he never allowed you in his space before. It looks like a nest, it's dark, the bed is in the middle of the room. Clothes are laying on the ground and they're forming a spiral around the mattress. You recognize some of yours that you haven't seen in a long time. You furrow your brows not sure about what's happening here. 

"Toji what's all of that" you say in a meek voice. He closes the door and rushes to join you on the bed "It doesn't matter hm it's just you and me" he says caressing your sides. 

You nod your head hypnotise by his behavior, his voice so deep and calm he's touching you with care he almost looks high, is it his state when he's horny ? He must really want you, but you want him to so you don't care. Placing your hands on his cheeks you initiate a kiss. You go slow at first testing the waters, and he follows. His lips are softer than you expected, you move against them in a soft waltz before you let your tongue enter his wet cavity. You lap at his muscle but freeze when you notice that there are two you break the kiss parting his lips with your thumb. He sticks it out revealing a forked tongue. You gasp incredulously, touching the tips with your index. There's so many things that you still don't know about him, but for now you need to find out how it feel against your clit 

You untie your robe in a hurry, a devilish smile spreads on his face as he admires your naked body, he lodges his head between your tits licking at the skin, his hands busy themselves kneading your breast. Your head falls back at the sensation his skin is so hot against your own, a content moan escapes your lips. Straightening his back he lay on the mattress ushering you you straddle his face, you waste no time encasing his face with your thighs slowly putting more and more weight on him. When your pussy lands on his face you moan in relief, he nuzzles against it, licking at your fold never touching your sweet spot. Starting to feel impatient you grab on his horns pulling lightly. He groans, letting the tips of his tongue tickle your clitoris, you exhale loudly, his muscle feels rough against your sensitive part, his tongue doesn't glide on your folds, it sticks like scratch tape in your most sensitive area, the repeated motion builds tension in your belly. If you weren't so desperate you'd be ashamed to be ready to cum this fast but you need  it so bad, you start grinding on his face holding on his horns. You close your eyes feeling your orgasm on the edge of a release.

"Toji don't stop" you breathe erratically

He lays his tongue flat against your clit as you keep humping it until your orgasm crashes over you. You're shaking uncontrollably and you feel like the air has been taken out of your lungs. you slowly regain your breath while toji bites at your inner thighs. You pet his hair and he pins you against the mattress extending his tongue to lick your cheek. He can do that too ? you grunt in both amusement and disgust. Positioning himself on top of you, he free his cock from the towel and your jaw drops. Not only is he big but the sides of his penis are rigged with bumps. You swallow hard not knowing if he is going to fit inside of you. Toji laughs at your reaction.

"Want me to go down again?" he coos, patting your thighs with his tail.

You shake your head standing on your elbows. Is it weird if you want it to hurt a bit? You want to feel the stretch and every rig. You've already cum once and you're so excited it should be okay.

"Then relax i don't want to mate with a wood board" 

Hurt at his words you're about to snap back at him but he captures your lips with his. Laying your back on the cover he licks and kisses your  temple, his hands kneading your shoulders you feel like a trapped mouse.

"Relax, hm not going to hurt you on purpose" he murmurs against your skin. 

Tired of his banters you lock your arms behind his neck and bite on his shoulder as hard as you can. He moans loudly letting his weight rest on your body, you feel his cock against your tummy as he starts to rut against it, your teeth sink deeper on his hard skin. You push on his shoulders looking at him in the eyes. 

"I want it please" you beg shamelessly. 

"I know it, you smell like a depraved minx" he smiles. You cringe at the nickname looking away 

He sits back on his feet, positioning your legs on his shoulders. He caresses them a few times nibbling on the skin of your ankle. He takes his length in his hand slowly entering your hole, your mouth opens at the sheer size. You extend your hand begging for support. Toji intertwinds his fingers with yours and you relax when he's all inside of you. The tears in your eyes are ready to fall at any given moment. He pins your other and next to your head crooking his nose in your neck folding you in half as your legs rest on his shoulders. The demon starts slow movements grunting in the comfort of your walls, the wetness allows him to glide easily. Your mouth is open letting out  pained noises that turn into moans when he hits your soft spot. the rigs of his dick kiss perfectly your gummy walls. you let lewd moans escaping your mouth not caring about the neighbor when you feel so good. 

"Better than your toys ?" he rasp looking at you through veiled eyes.

The humiliation settles in and you turn your head to avoid his gaze. You indeed have a drawer full of toys but he wasn't supposed to know. his tails prod at your chin to redirect you his way. You look at him through teary eyes.

"I- I've never been fucked like that before" you stammer 

He grunt in response going impossibly faster, weakening your spot with every thrust. The familiar sensation builds in your lower part again and you cry desperate to earn it again. You kiss and nip on his cheek as a silent plea, his tail snake between your bodies to massage your clit. Your back arches off the bed at the double stimulation. You chant his name over and over until your vision blurs and your legs spasms around his head. Toji hiss as your walls clench around him through your climax. You lay limp on the bed squeezing your demon's hands encouraging him to finish. When he does you gasp once more, at the amount of cum he is tainting your insides with.  You're both catching your breath and he lays next to you. 

"So you wanted to talk ? Or you just needed to be stuffed to stop being moody"? he purrs.

You don't have the strength to answer, you hit his chest lightly. He catches your hand grazing his teeth softly against it. You fall in a deep slumber with a satisfied smile on your lips. On his side Toji can't keep his eyes off you. All of those times he heard you pleasuring yourself he wanted to burst in and take you there and then; But he couldn't it was too early instead he would dig through your hamper and collect your dirty clothes. Now that he has you, covered in his scent filled with his seed, he has all intentions to make you the centerpiece of his nest.