#Can't help what he feels - and it's generally harmless :)

[sysig]

Something old and borrowed (Patreon)

[chuluoyi]

✎ rivals... in love?

- gojo satoru x reader

gojo is in shambles—so suguru might have a crush on you too?

genre: high school!gojo being a menace but pls spare him he just can't take losing, you see... crack, totally jealous!gojo, justice for geto, enemies to lovers, fluff

note: people have been asking for this so this is up next! i'm writing this while listening to bigbang's bang bang bang and fantastic baby so if gojo is a bit unhinged... you know why

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

No way. There is just no way.

Satoru felt his eyes itch and twitch uncomfortably. Despite the opaque black tint of his sunglasses, he could still distinctly see you happily giggling.

“Geto-san, that’s so funny!”

With Suguru. His ride or die. Your massive crush.

Your crisp laughter rang in his ears, scorching his ego and igniting it in flames—that was precisely the reaction he had hoped to receive from you too!

"Aren't they just cute?" Yaga was suddenly beside him with a wistful smile, looking at you and his other student a few feet away. "What do the television say again... a perfect match? In this case, a perfect match made in jujutsu school, then."

And responding to your bubbly self, creating the very picture of perfect match made in jujutsu school indeed, Suguru was every bit as enthusiastic. “Nah, wait until you see this—”

"Perfect match my ass," Satoru grumbled outwardly, rolling his eyes, but he immediately dashed away before his teacher could bonk him in the head for cussing.

It was harmless conversation, or jokes, or whatever. Because Suguru couldn't possibly reciprocate your feelings. His type is women of gravure magazines—Satoru had deemed it as such.

…Right?

At this point, he wasn't in enough denial to say that he didn't like you, because he had made it so clear that he was, in fact, obsessed. He wasn’t shying away from the things he did, which included annoying you constantly, asking you out after school, helping you in missions, and sending you few pick up lines here and there.

And he thought he was certain he could whisk you off your feet. After all, who else could measure up to him and win?

Heh, no one.

(or basically that's just him ignoring the intrusive little voice in his mind that whispered, “Suguru!”)

“So what's with the nice act, huh?” Satoru blew his bangs in a huff as he questioned his best friend with a twinge of dissatisfaction. “Do you like her or something?”

Suguru quirked his eyebrow at him. “What?”

“Don’t play dumb. I have noticed how you two have been joined at the hip lately,” and with deliberate intention to spite his best friend, he made the sourest face as he mockingly recited, “Wait till you see this~”

Instantly realizing what he meant, Suguru burst into a loud snicker. “Come on, Satoru, really? Surely you aren't that petty. We were just chatting—”

“Not that. I know. What I'm asking now is that do you like her or not?”

It wasn't a rare sight to see Satoru with a pout and a frown, and usually he'd humor him. But this time, even Suguru could see that there was something different in the way he asked this. And should he say something that irked him then—

“Heh, so what if I am?”

That's the wrong answer.

Satoru halted abruptly, whipping his head around in sheer shock. "What the heck?"

“She’s a nice junior, kind, easy on the eyes,” Suguru shrugged, flashing him a dauntless smile. “Only a fool would let the chance pass up. Satoru, if you keep dawdling, one of these days, I just might—”

“Wha—hey!? That’s totally foul—!”

“Nah, they do say all is fair in love and war now, isn’t it?”

By a mind-boggling twist of events, apparently his best friend was also a guy after his dream girl. Satoru was irked, challenged, and he would never admit it, but a tiny part of him recoiled because Suguru clearly had an early start and a boost—you favored him first.

This was unexpected, and now he was conjuring up various scenarios of what he should do. He must act fast or else...

Little did he know that Suguru was thoroughly relishing his restlessness.

Everyone around you said that your relationship with Gojo Satoru... is intriguing to say the least. And especially ever since that one botched mission you two went, you also felt there was a shift in your dynamics.

And if by intriguing they mean him constantly blocking your way and invading your space, then yes, it definitely is.

"Okay, okay, but wait, just hear me out!"

You halted your steps and faced him with an annoyed frown. You really had no time for this. You were about to be sent on a mission. "Gojo, really, can't you just—"

"Okay, I know he's dashing, or whatever," he huffed, the last word he said with a hint of disdain. "But hear me out, and I'm sure you'll reconsider."

"Who are you talki—"

"Who else!? Suguru, of course!"

You couldn't possibly arch your eyebrow even higher, and before you could say anything, he somehow took it as his cue to keep going.

“First, he eats curses. Cursed spirits! He eats them like rice balls! Can you imagine just how foul the taste is?”

"Gojo, I don't have the time—"

"Then! Going from that, just imagine kissing him," he stressed, eyeing you intensely as your own eyes felt like popping out by the sheer suggestion. "What if you taste the cursed spirits rice ball?"

"You're unbeliev—"

"Wait! Can you even kiss him? What if his cursed spirits suddenly pop out of him? Are you willing to kiss his little friends—"

"He's your best friend!" you finally interjected, obviously and utterly in shock by his unhinged rambling. "How could you say all of that?"

"No, you're getting me wrong." Satoru's clicked his tongue. "I'm just listing facts why it's better for you not to end up with him."

You barked a dry laugh. "And? Better with you, you mean? That's awfully biased."

"Why yes of course! Self-promo is never bad," he blatantly retorted. "Let me just tell you aallll you need to know about me!"

He audibly cracked his knuckles and puffed out his chest. "You know already, I'm strong. I can protect you well. My cursed technique doesn't involve eating curses, so you don't have to worry about tasting the said curses on my lips."

How could he blurt all of this with that perpetually playful expression? A chuckle escaped you unwittingly and that only spurred him to go on.

"And I'm handsome!" he boldly claimed, pointing at his face with pride. "And obviously I don't need to say this, but I'm filthy rich—"

At that, you burst into hearty laughter, unable to hold it in any longer.

Satoru's eyes sparkled, lit as if someone had just made his day. "All in all, you know what I mean. Everything with me, all of it is going to be fantastic!"

Even you couldn't deny that all of this exchange had been so amusing. Hilariously so. "You're down bad, huh?" you tried to taunt, although it seemed like a burst of snicker. Yet, you were caught off-guard when he said:

"For you?" his little smirk made your insides suddenly all jumbled up. "Yes."

Huh? What is this? Your bravado faltered a bit as your heart did a somersault inside.

It wasn't supposed to thump this hard. You weren't supposed to feel this overwhelming urge to squeal too. And your face wasn't supposed to grow this hot...

Seeing that, Satoru celebrated his little win, a wicked smile on his glistening lips—that somehow looked rather attractive to you now. "How? Thinking twice now, are we?"

But he couldn't believe that after all this, you would still cunningly retort with, "Ha! You wish, Gojo Satoru."

His stunned face was so comical that you chuckled once again. You wanted to rebuff him more, but before you could, Haibara's voice called you from a distance. "Heeey! Let's go! Or we're gonna be late!"

"I suppose that's my cue," you lightly shrugged, and before you left him in a dust, you could've sworn you saw a flicker of brewing tantrum behind those glasses, which brought a smirk on your face. "See ya, try harder, and I might look at your way."

Satoru was at his wit's end as he saw you sauntering away. What more that he could do so that you could be his? To keep your eyes on him and him only?

And yet, little did he know, in that beginning of summer in 2006, even before you realized it yourself, you had already did.

Epilogue

In another corner of the school, eagerly spying on you were...

"Wait! Can you even kiss him? What if his cursed spirits suddenly pop out of him? Are you willing to kiss his little friends—"

"Did he just..." Suguru gaped, utterly in disbelief at what his own best friend said of him. "Did he just say that?"

Shoko let out a satisfied guffaw. "Oh, he definitely did."

"I can't believe he's tarnishing my name over a girl."

"Well, you know very well he could do way worse than that just to get what he wants," she threw him a thin smile, while exhaling a puff of smoke. "And hey, you lose. You gotta pay me."

Suguru turned to her in surprise. "Huh? Oh—oh, darn it. Shoko, can't you be less stingy?"

"Well, whose bright idea was it to pull that stunt on him and bet on whether Gojo would approach her in less than a day?"

-> continue to extended cut !

[violenteconomics]

twst first-years that unconsciously pick up their upperclassmen's toxic character traits.

ace starts to act more temperamental and confrontational whenever something happens outside of his control. he's more anxious than anything, but it comes out in the form of sharp words.

(after so many overblots and life-threatening situations, he feels as if he could maybe put a stop to it if he had just a bit more control over other people.)

deuce lets other people mistreat him and order him around without putting up a fuss. he hates conflict and arguments more than anything, and is willing to do anything to keep things calm for a few more minutes. on the flip-side, he's not afraid to beat someone into submission if he has to, even if they're not wronging him on purpose.

(that's how trey and cater did it. riddle didn't overblot back when it was just the three of them, so clearly, things would've continued to be just fine if ace and deuce hadn't set them off, if they'd just been more like their juniors--)

whenever jack helps someone out, he starts expecting things in return, and the same logic applies whenever someone helps him out. it can never be a genuine thing. he's always standing with bated breath, waiting until the moment somebody tries to get leverage over him, or until he needs to cash in a favor.

(leona and ruggie are never genuine-- with themselves, with each other, or with him. with them, there's always, always a catch.)

epel starts getting really snide and sarcastic whenever someone doesn't meet up to his standards or says anything he disagrees with. but vil doesn't believe anybody who complains about it to him, because epel acts perfectly normal otherwise.

(why should epel be the only one targeted? why shouldn't other people feel that shame? why does he have to cater to other people? why can't people ever try to please him?)

ortho, who begins to think the worst of people all the time, even before ever meeting them. you have to do quite a lot to convince him that you mean well, and you better do it fast, or he might actually laser you for saying the wrong thing.

(people in this school are so mean sometimes. they don't try to understand idia. they don't try to understand him. even idia doesn't understand him, sometimes. awful, awful, it's all so awful.)

sebek becomes intensely vengeful over anybody who wrongs him, with his payback ranging from harmless things, like putting a frog in someone's bag, to dangerous endeavors, like setting someone's broom on fire mid-air.

(lilia lied. silver cried in his arms. if even malleus can do his most loyal companions wrong, anyone can. it's only fair that he gets a bit even every now and then. they deserve it, all of them.)

yuu is so disinterested in anything that's going on. they'll pretend to help, only to leave or disassociate or make excuses after excuses or just flat-out turn out to be completely unhelpful, with almost no attempt to prove the contrary.

(so many pretenders in this school. nobody's ever helped them out, so why shouldn't they return the favor?)

it's generational trauma that continues to be perpetuated throughout the years at night raven college, that's what i'm getting at.

[incognit0slut]

Much Ado About Nothing (Act III, Scene V: The Temporary Bliss)

Your fleeting moment of happiness is quickly overshadowed as old wounds from the past resurface.

Part warning: (18+) fingering, protected sex (because helping him roll down a condom is hot), and, unfortunately, angst Words: 4.8k A/n: so this is the last part of Act III: The Deception, you might want to prepare yourself as we get closer to the truth

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

You were a coward. A fool. A mess. You didn’t know what to label yourself anymore, or if there were even words to describe the way you felt. But you did know one thing—you didn't have the strength to confront Spencer, you couldn't even see his face without feeling sick. So you did what you did best.

You avoided him. Plain and simple.

It was actually easier than you had expected. After that dreadful weekend, there seemed to be enough cases to distract you. You traveled across the state, one week in a new place, and another in a different city. By the end of the month, you hardly thought about him at all. Your friends seemed to be unaware of the underlying tension between you, and even if they did notice, they surprisingly kept their thoughts to themselves—everyone except Derek who teasingly pointed out that you seemed more focused on your work than usual.

You had shrugged off his comment with a forced laugh, brushing it off as if it was just a harmless observation. You told yourself that you were fine, that you had everything under control. But despite your efforts to stay distracted, the reality was different. The moment the plane landed back in Quantico, you knew you would have to face him again, especially when Emily suggested to hit the bar.

Her reason was to blow off steam after a gruesome few weeks, which was followed by a chorus of agreements from the team. Now you were left with no more excuses. Your eyes drifted toward him, his gaze slowly met yours, and that was how you found yourself in the same dingy, low-lit bar the team always gravitated to an hour later.

The familiar murmur of conversation and clinking of glasses greeted you as you entered the place. While the others settled to their usual spot in the corner, you quickly made a bee-line towards the bar. The bartender, a tall man with a slightly overgrown beard and sharp blue eyes, looked up as you approached.

He was cute, in a rugged, rough-around-the-edges kind of way. You would normally find yourself attracted to these types of men—confident, approachable, and with a certain easygoing charm. But apparently, your heart had other ideas, preferring a certain someone with a genius-level IQ with warm brown eyes.

“Hey, you're back," he greeted you, nodding his head. "Haven’t seen you in a while."

You leaned over the bar. "It's been a busy month."

"Where did you go off to this time?"

"Chicago."

He whistled softly. "Chicago, huh? Must have been a big one to send you all the way there." He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “What did the bad guy do this time?”

You gave a small, secretive smile. "You know I can't talk about that. That's classified information."

The corner of his lips turned into a wide grin. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” He picked up a glass and began wiping it down. “So, what’ll it be tonight? Your usual Margarita?”

You hesitated, shaking your head.

"Sex on the beach?"

Normally, you'd ask for either—you preferred something light and tangy, a drink that was strong enough to take the edge off without overwhelming you. But tonight was different. Tonight, you needed something with more kick.

“Give me a shot of tequila—no, make it two.”

A frown briefly crossed his face. “Are you sure?”

No.

“Yes,” you insisted. “I need something stronger tonight.”

The man studied your face for a moment before he nodded, pouring two generous shots in front of you. He turned to grab lime wedges from the small fridge under the counter but stopped abruptly when he noticed you’d already downed one of the shots.

"Wow, you weren't kidding.”

The strong liquor burned your throat. “That is disgusting.”

“That’s why you need this to chase it,” he said, sliding the lime wedge and a pinch of salt towards you. “Here.”

You purposely ignored him and brought the second glass to your lips, feeling the burn even before you swallowed.

“Here, take it.”

“No, I’m fine.” You pushed the now empty glass toward him, making a face. “Pour me another one.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Oh, come on! I’m here with the gang!” You gestured toward the corner where the team was sitting. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

He hesitated, glancing over your shoulder and then back at you. “Fine, but this is the last one,” he said, reluctantly pouring another shot.

You gave him a quick nod, grabbing the shot and lifting it to your lips, steeling yourself for the burn. Just as you were about to drink, you felt a firm hand on your wrist. Your body tensed, not because of the sudden interruption, but because you felt another hand resting at your back before it slowly slid across, settling just at the soft curve of your waist.

You didn’t have to turn your head to know who it was. His smell was unmistakable—clean, with a hint of soap and the faintest trace of coffee.

“I think you’ve had enough.”

You watched as Spencer took the glass from your grip, settling it on the counter. Your brows knit together in confusion. “What are you doing?”

But instead of answering you, his eyes were focused intently on the bartender. “You shouldn’t have given her another glass.”

The bartender’s eyes widened slightly, and he held up his hands. “Hey, she asked for it.”

You nodded along. “To be fair, he did offer me Sex on the Beach.”

That didn’t seem to help. Spencer’s grip tightened on your waist, and you could feel him pulling you slightly closer to him. “That’s not funny. We need to get you some water.”

“Reid, it’s just two shots—”

He cut you off, turning back to the bartender. “Can she get a glass of water?”

The bartender nodded, quickly grabbing a glass and filling it with water. He handed it to Spencer, who then turned his attention back to you. “Drink this, please.”

“Seriously, I’m fine,” you protested.

He placed the glass in your hand. “Drink it.”

“Two shots,” you argued, finally facing him. “It’s not a big deal. I’ve drunk a lot worse than this.”

“I'm aware.”

“Then why does it bother you so much?”

He went quiet for a moment, his eyes drifting between you, the glass of water, then back to you.

“Because I don’t like being the reason you’re drinking something you hate in the first place.”

You quickly downed the cool water. How could you even answer that? Your skin suddenly felt hot, and your palms grew clammy as he kept his hand on your waist. You looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

“It’s not because of you,” you said, shrugging as you set the glass down.

"Isn't it, though? Why else would you be reacting this way?"

“Maybe I just like tequila now. Did you ever think of that?”

“You hate tequila," he replied as if it was common knowledge.

“Yeah, well, maybe I’ve developed a taste for it.”

“So you’ve suddenly decided you like something you’ve been avoiding for years?”

“Maybe I’m trying new things,” you shot back, your tone sharp. “Maybe you should try it too.”

There was a moment of silence as he considered your words. "I am trying new things."

You felt him tug you slightly, letting your body fall against his. Your heart sped up as you stared up at him. Even in the dim light of the bar, his brown eyes seemed to catch the faint glow, looking lighter and more intense than usual. You watched as his gaze drifted slowly to your lips.

"Reid..."

"Hmm?"

"What are you doing?"

His expression softened as he looked back at you, his hand still resting lightly on your waist. "I'm trying to play the perfect boyfriend."

"So this is all an act?"

This was it, the moment of truth, the point where everything could change. He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. “No,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing against your hip.

Your hand fell to his chest, fingers pressing lightly to feel the rapid beat of his heart. It was pounding, just as fast as yours.

"Spencer..."

He let out a sigh—a sound that seemed to carry both relief and a touch of disbelief as it left his lips. "I thought I'd never hear you call me that again."

He was right. Ever since you drifted apart, calling him Reid felt safer, like a barrier that kept things distant and professional. Spencer was too personal, too intimate for the walls you had built around yourself. But now, standing so close, it felt like the past and present were colliding, making everything more confusing.

Your finger played with the knot of his tie, absentmindedly tracing the pattern. "You're making this more complicated."

He nodded. "I know."

"We're supposed to break this off."

"I know."

"We're supposed to stick to the plan."

He opened his mouth, then closed it, struggling for a moment before replying, “If that's what you want, then we'll go through it. But...”

You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. "But what?"

"But I need to know if it’s really what you want." His voice faltered slightly. "If you want me to leave, I will."

His question hung in the air like a thick fog, making it hard for you to think clearly. It was a simple choice, wasn't it? Stick to the plan, keep up the fake dating, and finally break it off. No mess, no complications. But why, then, did the thought of him leaving feel like a heavy weight in your chest?

You caught him nervously trailing his bottom lip with his tongue—a habit of his when he was deep in thought. The simple gesture made you feel an unexpected pull, and before you knew it, you found yourself pressing closer to him.

“Spence,” you murmured. “You’re making this really hard.”

“I don’t want to make it hard,” he said quietly. “I-I just I need to know where we stand.”

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. The words felt heavy on your tongue, but you knew you needed to say them.

"I want you to leave," you started, watching as his expression shifted, a hint of pain flickering in his eyes as he slowly pulled away. But before he could step back, you tugged on his tie, pulling him back towards you. "But I'm leaving with you."

His eyes widened slightly. "What do you mean?"

And suddenly, a wave of embarrassment washed over you, and you looked away. "What I'm trying to say is... that—well..."

"Well?"

Your gaze focused somewhere beyond his shoulder, finding it easier to speak without meeting his eyes. "I want to finish what we started that morning."

He blinked, processing your words. "You mean... when we..."

"Yeah."

You noticed his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard. "Oh." He leaned in slightly, his hand moving to rest on the small of your back. "How drunk are you right now?"

You couldn't help but let a laugh escape your lips, finally looking back at him. "I had two shots!"

His expression softened, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You know what this means, right?"

"What?"

"If we…" He trailed off, clearing his throat before continuing, "If we do this, it'll change everything."

You smoothed down his shirt, your fingers lingering on the fabric. "I know."

"And you still want that?"

"I do."

He took a deep breath, searching your eyes for any hesitation. "And you want to leave... right now?"

"Look, if you don't want to—"

He quickly cut you off, shaking his head with a slight, nervous chuckle. “No, I do. I just… I want to make sure you do too.”

"I wouldn't be saying this if I didn't mean it."

His eyes softened. “You’re right,” he said, the corners of his mouth lifting in a hesitant smile that looked almost like a grimace. “Okay. Okay. We’re doing this.”

Seeing him easily flustered was always amusing for you, and this time was no different. "Come on," you urged him, taking his hand in yours. "Let's get out of here."

"Wait, shouldn't we tell them we're leaving?"

You glanced back at your friends. "And tell them what? That we're going to have sex?"

He almost tripped over his own feet. "Well, when you put it that way…"

You squeezed his hand and flashed him a smile over your shoulder as you started toward the exit. With a quick, eager step, he followed behind.

Spencer’s apartment was just as you remembered—deep green walls, warm lighting, bookshelves lining every corner. But you barely had a moment to register your surroundings before he had his face buried in your neck.

His lips found the sensitive spot below your ear. Your fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt as his mouth trailed a wet path down your throat, and you had to push against his chest slightly because he was pressing you too hard against the door. For a man who spent most of his time buried in books, he seemed to have an unexpected strength that took you by surprise.

“Hey, hey,” you murmured, a soft giggle escaping as you tilted your head to look at him. “Slow down.”

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes before leaning down again, his hands coming up to cup your face as he kissed you.

His lips were hot against yours, moving with an eager, almost desperate need. He sucked gently on your lower lip, pulling it into his mouth before releasing it with a soft, audible pop. The sudden absence of his mouth left your skin tingling, only to be followed by the gentle graze of his teeth, a playful nip that made you gasp and clutch his shirt tighter.

You felt lightheaded, melting under his touch as his tongue teased the seam of your lips, coaxing them open as his tongue teased the seam of your lips, coaxing them open. You let him in willingly, your tongue meeting his eagerly. The sensation left you feeling hot and dizzy, your entire body craving for more of his taste. It was as if his kiss was an intoxicating drug, leaving you utterly addicted. Even when he pulled away slightly to catch his breath, you grabbed him again, pressing your lips firmly against his.

Spencer sighed with pleasure as he held the back of your head, his fingers splaying against your scalp. You weren't sure how long you stayed like that, lost in the way his lips moved against yours, but the instant you felt his growing bulge brush your hip, you gently pushed him away.

A thin, glistening string of saliva followed you, and you reached up to wipe it from his mouth with a quick, almost embarrassed swipe. His breath came in ragged gasps as he looked down at you, his eyes wide in surprise.

"Sorry, I-I got carried away," he mumbled, letting his hand trail down your spine. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to."

You looked up at him, your eyes searching his. "You thought I pushed you away because I want us to stop?"

"Uh... maybe? I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"No, Spencer," you said softly, reaching up to loosen the knot of his tie. "I pushed you away because I need you to take me to your bed."

He watched intently as you pulled off his tie, and when you pushed his suit jacket off his shoulders, his hands fell to his sides.

"Are you going to watch me undress you, or are you going to help?"

A slow smile spread across his face as he shrugged off the jacket completely, his hands moving to the buttons of his shirt. "I think I can manage that."

He started to unbutton his shirt, his fingers brushing against yours. The moment the last button was undone, he let the shirt fall to the floor with a soft rustle. Your palm glided over his chest as you took in his bare skin. You expected his body to be lean—he had long limbs, after all—but you didn't expect the subtle, defined muscles beneath your touch.

"Spencer, have you been working out?"

You could tell he was embarrassed by the way he shifted his gaze from you. "Morgan convinced me to stay in shape," he admitted with a shy smile. "He insists it's part of the job."

You plant a kiss right above his heart. "Well, it's definitely working."

The warmth of your lips seemed to ease his embarrassment, and he let out a soft sigh, his hands coming up to caress your back. You glanced up at him again. "Will you take me to your bed now?"

He quickly nodded and guided you towards his bedroom. Once inside, you pushed him down onto the edge of his bed. His hands roamed across your body as you slipped between his legs, slowly unbuttoning your blouse. The front of the fabric fell away and his gaze followed every movement, his hands eagerly helping you slide it off your shoulders.

Your bra came off next, the straps sliding down your arms as you tossed it aside. His eyes swept over you with admiration as he licked his lips, his gaze lingering on the exposed curve of your body. He pulled you closer, his hands gripping your waist as he pressed a series of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone and down to the swell of your breasts.

When he wrapped his lips around your nipple, a sharp, electrifying pleasure shot through you. His tongue flicked and teased, alternating between gentle suckles and soft nibbles that made you gasp and arch into his touch. You tangled your fingers in his hair, holding him to you as he continued his ministrations, moving from one breast to the other.

The hand on your back slid lower, his fingers finding the waistband of your pants. You felt him unbutton them, the fabric loosening around your hips. With a firm but gentle tug, he slipped your pants down your legs, followed closely by your panties, until both garments pooled around your feet.

His hand began running up your leg, fingers slipping between your thighs. He let go of your nipple and looked up at you with those brown eyes that seemed to gleam under the light. “Can I touch you?”

You brushed his hair back gently from his forehead. “You’ve touched me before.”

“I want to hear you say it.” 

You felt his fingertips brush so lightly over your clit and you nodded. “Yes,” you breathed out, “You can touch me.”

All you could do was sigh as his fingers moved again. He was so gentle, so careful, sliding his fingers up and down your folds, spreading your arousal with each teasing stroke. His eyes never left your face, watching every flicker of pleasure that crossed your features, drinking in the way your lips parted and your breath hitched with each touch.

"Th—That feels good," you cooed, your eyes fluttering low but not completely shut, wanting to see him as he worked over you. He followed your gaze where his fingers continued their exploration, gently pulling back the soft flesh to expose your clit. He traced light, feathery strokes over the sensitive skin and the motion left your legs shaking, nearly losing balance if he weren't holding you against him.

He grabbed the back of your thigh. “Put your leg up here.”

You complied and rested your feet on the bed, giving more access. The new position allowed him to press his fingers more deeply against your clit, his fingers moving in a steady rhythm. You were trembling, mind numb from the way he was touching you, and you almost couldn’t take it when he dipped his middle finger inside your cunt.

"God, Spencer,” you gasped, dropping a hand to the wrist that was nestled between your legs, nails digging into his skin. He slipped another finger inside you, and your eyes screwed shut this time. You could feel his fingers curling inside you, seeking, then finding, the tender spot that made you cry out in pleasure.

Everything became a blur after that. His fingers continued to thrust into you, and with each movement, you grew wetter, the slick sounds of your arousal echoing throughout his room. You clung to his shoulders for support, your breath coming in ragged gasps as he pressed soft kisses across your chest. His thumb then brushed against your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure in gentle circles.

"I'm…” Your eyes fluttered open when his mouth latched onto your hard nipple. “I'm gonna come... if you... keep doing that..." 

You weren't even sure why you were warning him, but you couldn’t stop yourself as your hips rolled against his hands. His thumb circled your clit faster in response, and the world around you began to spin. You gasped his name, the sound escaping your lips in a desperate, breathless moan.

When his teeth softly grazed your sensitive nipple, you finally snapped. Wave after wave of orgasm bliss rolled through your body, the pulse of pleasure sending your thighs trembling as he held you through all of it. It's all too much, too intense, and you were left completely spent, shaking, breathless, and needing to lay down immediately.

Spencer caught you as you collapsed on top of him, the force of your weight pushing him onto his back. You stayed like that for a moment, trying to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly against his. But it didn't last long when you felt his bulge press right between your thighs. Without thinking, you found yourself rolling your hips.

He let out a sharp gasp, his hands gripping your hips tightly as you moved against him. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the hardness of his erection pressing against you through the fabric of his pants as your face hovered above his, lips barely touching.

"So when are you going to fuck me?"

He bucked his hips against you. "I-I... I have a condom in my drawer."

His words made you falter. Why does he have a condom?

It was stupid, really, you knew why contraception was necessary. But the thought of him having an active sexual life with someone else after you had drifted apart stung deeply. It wasn’t technically your business, but knowing that he might have been with others hurt, especially when the last man you had been close to was him.

"Spence... why do you have a condom?"

You hated how small your voice sounded.

He gently brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, his eyes searching yours as he weighed his words before letting out a sigh. "After… after that night, when we—almost… I just wanted to be prepared. I didn't know if… if we'd ever…"

You slowly relaxed. "So you haven't used any?"

He shook his head. "No, I haven't."

Your heart swelled at his words. You leaned in and kissed him softly, a sudden rush of affection washing over you. "Well, I think it's time we put it to use," you whispered against his lips, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of your mouth. "Where did you put it?"

"Bottom drawer, on the left."

You pulled away to reach over to his drawer, hearing the sound of his belt buckle unlatching behind you. Your eyes briefly flashed towards the book sitting on the nightstand, a glimpse of its cover catching your attention. But you didn’t dwell on it, you were too focused on rummaging through his things until your fingers brushed against the familiar texture of the wrapper.

He was completely naked as you turned to face him again, your eyes catching his cock resting perfectly against his stomach as he leaned back against the pillows. You crawled over to him and leaned down, placing a soft kiss on his bulging tip.

He let out a sharp hiss. "I-I don't think I can last long if you do that."

You smiled and straightened yourself, your fingers delicately tearing open the wrapper. You could feel his eyes on you, half-lidded with desire, his focus narrowing to the way your fingers brushed against his skin. His body tensed, and his breathing grew heavier, as you slowly slid the condom down his length.

The thin latex felt almost invisible under your fingertips, allowing the heat radiating from his body to seep through. He couldn't take his eyes off you, mesmerized by the way your fingers glided over him so effortlessly. Your touch was firm yet gentle, and when you finally reached the base, you gave him a final, possessive squeeze.

Spencer let out a shaky breath, his hands finding your hips as you positioned yourself over him. You hovered above his tip, teasingly brushing it against your entrance before slowly sinking down. You paused halfway, adjusting to his size, feeling lightheaded as he stretched you regardless of how wet you were. It was overwhelming, but the numbness was exactly the kind of rush you were seeking.

And finally, with a deep breath, you let gravity pull you down, taking him all the way in.

You both gasped at the sensation, the intense fullness causing your muscles to clench around him. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he steadied you. Then, slowly, you began to move, lifting yourself slightly before sinking back down.

Your breaths synchronized, shallow and quick, as you found a steady rhythm. Spencer’s hands guided you, his palms pressing firmly on your hips before trailing back to your ass, squeezing the soft flesh. You held onto his jaw as you leaned in, your lips meeting in a heated, breathless kiss. His tongue slid into your mouth and your brain turned to mush.

He kissed you hungrily while your hips continued to rise and fall, each movement driving him deeper inside you. You felt his hands roam your body, one sliding up your back to pull you closer, while the other remained on your ass, encouraging you. You moaned into his mouth, the sensation of his lips and his cock brushing your tight, inner walls making you tremble with pleasure.

You pulled back slightly, resting your forehead against his. "S-Spence..."

He nipped at your bottom lip, casually biting and pulling it between his teeth. "Mhm?"

You didn’t know why you had called out his name, only that you needed to. It was more of a reflex than anything else, a desperate need to connect as your pace quickened. He let out a low, throaty sound of pleasure as your walls clenched around him. And that was when you heard your name on his lips. It was soft, but it was enough to drive you to the edge. You rolled your hips urgently, trying to chase that familiar, blissful sensation but your thighs started to burn, your movements slowing down a little. He sensed your struggle and tightened his hands on your waist.

His fingers dug harshly into the tender skin of your sides, his hips bucking up to meet yours with force. His thrusts suddenly became more relentless, each powerful push driving him deeper inside you. The slick, wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of your cunt filled the air, the squelch of your joined body punctuating with each thrust.

The pleasure built within you, coiling tighter and tighter until it was all-consuming. Finally, with one last, powerful thrust, you were both pushed over the edge. Your body convulsed with the force of your orgasm at the same time he spilled into you. His head fell back against the pillows, his eyes squeezed shut as your fingers dug into his shoulders, riding out every wave of your climax.

It took a few more minutes before you felt his body relax. You did the same, collapsing on top of him as he is hands softened their grip on you, gently caressing your back.

"Are you… okay?" You simply nodded, too tired to find your own voice. His thumb brushed your side. “Are you sure?”

You nodded again, snuggling yourself closer, feeling the weight of your body pressing down on him. He kissed the top of your head.

“I know you’re making yourself comfortable, but I really need to go to the bathroom.”

You lifted your head, meeting his eyes. “Would it bother you if I peed at the same time you clean yourself?”

The smile that spread across his face lit up his features. “Of course not.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his chest before reluctantly rolling off him. Spencer slid off the bed and reached for your hand, helping you up. You both moved to the bathroom, where Spencer headed for the sink to wash up while you made your way to the toilet.

As you sat there, you thought about how surprisingly natural this felt—almost as if you had done this before. The way he naturally kissed your cheek before exiting the bathroom didn’t feel awkward or out of place, it was oddly comforting. When you finally finished, he was already waiting for you in comfortable clothes. He stretched out his hand, and when you took it, he pulled you close. “Are you hungry?”

You found yourself nodding. “I could eat something.”

He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’ll make us some sandwiches, I think I have enough stuff in the fridge,” he suggested, and then added somewhat sheepishly, “I also, um, put some fresh clothes out for you to use. I hope that’s okay.”

Your heart might burst at how adorable he was. “Thank you, Spence. That’s really sweet.”

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze before heading to the kitchen. You picked up the clothes he had laid out for you—a soft t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, but as you held them, your gaze drifted back to the book sitting on his nightstand. Curiosity got the better of you, and you picked up the book, studying the cover.

The Narrative of John Smith.

You opened it, noticing the handwritten quote on the first page.

“Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone, we find it with another.” —Thomas Merton—

A sudden feeling of nausea hit you, as if you’d been punched in the gut. You flipped through the pages, trying to steady your breathing. It wasn’t the softness of the paper that greeted you as you slipped onto the next page, but the sharp edges of something hard brushing against your fingertips. You carefully pulled out what seemed to be a photograph, your heart sinking as you realized whose it was… Because right in your hand, Maeve was smiling back at you.

Maeve.

Maeve. Donovan.

Everything suddenly came crashing back, the past shooting straight to your heart. The memories, the pain, the confusion—it all flooded your mind in an instant. You remembered why you and Spencer had drifted apart, why that night had changed everything. The woman staring back at you was the reason you had shut yourself off from him in the first place.

No, it wasn’t all her fault—you’d be a heartless fool to blame a dead woman for something she couldn’t control. But she had consumed his mind. The presence she held in his life was enough to end the friendship you once had. And now, holding the photograph, you felt an overwhelming tightness in your chest that made it hard to breathe. The walls seemed to close in, the room feeling too small.

You needed to get out of here.

You quickly pulled on your clothes, the fabric feeling suffocating as you hurriedly dressed. Your movements were frantic, driven by a need to escape. You dashed out of his room, but Spencer was already standing by the bedroom door.

"I was just about to call you, the food is—hey, what's wrong?"

You walked past him, the pain constricting your chest so tightly that you could barely breathe, let alone speak. “I… I need to go,” you stammered out over your shoulder.

Spencer's face fell as he saw the distress in your eyes, his hands reaching out to stop you as you headed for the front door. He turned you to face him, and the moment he saw the tears threatening to spill, his own expression crumpled in worry.

"What happened?" he asked softly, his hands gently cupping your face. You flinched and shoved him away.

“Don’t touch me.”

You noticed the hurt in his eyes, but you barely looked at him, trying to control your own emotions. Your mind was a whirlwind of confusion. You felt the lingering warmth from the post-orgasmic rush, the serotonin still buzzing in your veins, but at the same time, the gut-wrenching pain was consuming you. The fleeting sensation you’d felt moments ago seemed like a cruel mockery now, as your heart twisted with every beat.

“You’re really leaving?”

You slowly nodded, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Just like that, after tonight?”

You remained silent, your mouth shut tight. Then you heard him mutter something under his breath, barely audible but unmistakable.

“That’s what you always do, isn’t it?”

Your eyes snapped to him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

There was a heavy silence, a beat of rising tension as his eyes narrowed at you. “You run away when things get hard.”

You stared back at him in surprise. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”

“Yes,” he said sharply. “Every time we get to a point where we might actually resolve something, you disappear.”

Was that really how he saw you? Someone who ran away at the first sign of trouble? The thought was a bitter pill, one that left a heavy, sour taste in your mouth.

“That’s not fair,” you protested, shaking your head as you felt the sting of tears at the corner of your eyes.

“Well, you know what’s not fair?” His voice suddenly turned a pitch higher, each word cutting through the air. “Pulling me into this—this whole fake relationship thing and then running away when it starts to mean something real.”

“What?” The accusation stung, a sharp jab to your already fragile heart. “You think this was easy for me? You think I didn’t have doubts?”

"I think you dragged me into this and now you’re scared because it’s not just a game anymore," he pressed, his eyes flashing with frustration as he stepped closer. “Every time l show that l actually care, you run away.”

“I don’t run away.”

“Yes, you do. You always bail on me,” he argued, his tone growing sharper with each word. “Just like that morning, just like now, and just like that night—”

You finally had enough.

"Don’t you dare bring that up!” You snapped. “You don’t get to use that against me. You know exactly why I had to leave!”

Spencer flinched as if he was struck. The impact of your words hit him hard, and you could see the hurt and realization dawning in his eyes. His posture sagged, the tension in his shoulders melting away as the anger drained from his face. “I know, I know,” he whispered, the regret clear in his voice. “I-I’m sorry.”

Your heart ached, the pain of old wounds reopening. The memories of that night, the way you felt invisible and helpless—it all came crashing back. You shook your head, taking a step back, needing to put distance between you. “No, I can’t do this right now.”

You turned away, desperate to escape. The walls felt like they were closing in, your chest tightening with every breath.

“Wait,” he called after you. “I’m sorry. Please… I don’t… stay, please.”

You paused slightly, but you couldn’t let yourself give in. Not when every painful memory from that night seemed to claw its way back to the surface. Not when the fear of getting hurt again loomed so large. Not when you knew if you turned back now, you might never find the strength to walk away again.

“We should end this whole thing,” you said quietly, each word feeling like a knife twisting in your heart. “I’ll tell Hotch first thing in the morning.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and final. The reality of what you had said sank in, and for a moment, it felt like time itself had frozen. His face fell, a look of utter devastation crossed his features as his eyes searched yours, trying to grasp at the fragments of what was left. He opened his mouth to speak, but you couldn’t bear to face him any longer.

You slowly reached for the door, wrenching it open before stepping into the cold night. You left him standing there, watching helplessly as you walked away for what felt like the hundredth time.

[generalsmemories]

Unwanted reunion

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ prompts: “catching the other one crying shortly after an argument and immediately feeling an overwhelming wave of guilt crash onto you.” + "it's okay, we can fix this..." + “playing with their hair until they fall asleep”|| 1k event

✧ contents: hurt/comfort, angst, established relationship, implied character death

✧ a/n: if u wonder how in the world i came up with the scenario below. i genuinely don't know either it's a mystery to even me. CREATIVE LIBERTY WINS AGAIN THE PROMPTS WERE LITERALLY INSPO AND NOT WRITTEN DIRECTLY INTO THE SCENARIO. also implied that this took place after the battle with phantylia so keep that in mind.

NOT BETA-READ AS USUAL FELLAS I WANTED TO HAND THIS OVER TO YA'LL ASAP AS AN APOLOGY FOR STARVING YOU ALL FOR SO LONG!! it's mild angst though, so sorry.

Jing Yuan's can feel a familiar heaviness weigh on his body as well as the feeling of someone wrapping a roll of gauze on his arm. However opening his eyes proved to be a challenge in itself and it's only with great struggle that he can manage to force them slightly open to the bright light.

The first thing he notices is the familiar ceiling of your shared home. A bit weird since whenever he did get injured he would immediately be rushed towards a private room by the Seat of Divine Foresight - which was the safest place for him to stay. Perhaps you had gotten your will again to take care of him - seeing as you're a high ranking healer yourself and quite a stubborn soul.

But his eyes still widen a tiny bit when he sees you sitting by the edge of the bed, one hand gripping his gauzed wound while your other hand is busy trying to find something to keep your hard work in place. You're humming a soft tune again, he never knows what sort of melody you're humming, only that it had become a habit for you after the amount of years you had spent by his side bandaging his battle wounds. Something about helping your mood and staying positive.

"Your recklessness knows no bounds, Jing Yuan." the sternness of your voice snaps him out of the daze he's in, immediately rising up from the bed only to groan in pain when the wounds that you had just wrapped up react to his body folding, "... And still don't know when to rest - even when I'm in the middle of treating you."

"...How much time has passed?" he asks, voice hoarse after having slept for who knows how long. You only hum, setting the bandages aside - the gesture causing Jing Yuan to follow your hand movements which makes him notice the bloodied bandages inside the trash by your legs.

"A couple of days, I was just finishing changing your bandages when you finally woke up. Here, some water." you inform, raising a glass towards his lips, patiently waiting for him to move closer.

You only start to speak again after he's taken several gulps, placing the cup of water back on the nightstand beside his bed. "Why are you so willing to throw your life away?" you ask after a moment of silence, helping Jing Yuan rest against the headboard, eyes never leaving his own that don't dare to even look into your own.

"It's my duty-"

"Your duty is to make sure as many of the Cloud Knights survive a battle. Not gamble your life on a piece that you weren't sure had the capabilities to help."

Jing Yuan bites his tongue at your immediate rebuttal, you were right after all. "The Master Diviner was right there by you. A troop was enough to guard the entrance, you didn't need to leave the master diviner with them to go on this-"

"... Can't you be happy for once whenever we meet like this?" he asks quietly, effectively stopped you from saying anything more. His gaze is cast downwards whenever he mutters the same question to you whilst shrinking a bit after asking. There's no sign of the proud general in your presence - in front of you is just Jing Yuan asking a supposedly harmless question.

Perhaps that's the reason why you can never shove him away immediately.

"... You know what my answer is."

Jing Yuan was no crier. In fact, you think he stopped crying or showing any visible sign of discomfort or uneasiness the day he got the title as General. You're pretty sure you can count the amount of times you've seen Jing Yuan cry on one hand.

Perhaps his ability to hide his own needs and wants so often day by day for the past centuries makes your dismissal of his simple wishes that more gut-wrenching for you. You try to ignore the overwhelming guilt that washes over you every time you have to say the same thing to him.

"... You have a lot of things that you want to get done on the Luofu, Jing Yuan." you murmur softly, extending a hand to run your fingers through his locks, breaking apart any knots that may have formed in his sleep.

"You know we can meet again, but now is not the time - especially now," you gently remind with a sombre smile, your hand moving from his hair to rest against his chin to make him face you.

"It's gonna be alright, okay?" he scoffs at your reassurance, finally coming to terms with your conditions once again like always, wrapping his arms around your waist to fall down back on the bed with you on top.

"Remember the last time you said those words to me?" he says, almost sounding offended at your choice of words to which you only smile against his skin in guilt.

"It was the first time I saw you cry so hard," you try to joke, pressing your hands against the mattress to push yourself off of Jing Yuan, choosing to hover above him instead.

"... I'm sorry," you decide to say in the end after a moment of silence, once again threading your fingers through his hair - an act you knew used to calm him before. At this moment though, you're not so sure.

"Why? Shouldn't I be sorry?" he asks in return, a small yawn leaving his lips as his eyes struggle to stay open. You smile bitterly as you shake your head, still threading your fingers through his hair.

"No, none of it was your fault - what happened back then was out of your control. But this time it isn't. I can wait for a long time, Jing Yuan. I know you're aware of that so don't try to rush anything to meet me again." you tell him, leaning down to press your lips against his forehead.

"So it's time to wake up, dear. Luofu is waiting for you."

[aventoru]

falling

character : itoshi rin

warning(s) : childish behavior lmao, idiots in love ig, pretty rushed but like-

a/n : not really a repost from my old blog because i was shadow banned when i posted this=))

The bell rings, signaling the end of your class and the start of lunchtime. You and your best friend walk to your locker to put away your textbooks before heading to the cafeteria. Most of the students are already getting their lunch and there was not a single soul in the hallway. Or so you both thought.

After placing the textbooks in your lockers and shutting the doors, you two happen to catch sight of none other than Itoshi Rin as you were heading to get lunch yourselves. Usually, during lunchtime, Rin would be practicing soccer on the field outside but he seems to be idly scrolling through his phone today. (Well, it’s not like that’s any of your business.)

Itoshi Rin, as far as you're concerned, is a soccer superstar with…a cold demeanor. To put it bluntly, he has no friends. You wish you were kidding when you say so, but it’s common knowledge amongst the student body at this point. Sure, he was popular and many people admire him for his talents, but it was so difficult to get him to even speak that others just gave up trying to befriend him in general.

That didn’t stop you from having a massive crush on him, though. He’s been your table mate for the past 2 years of high school and it’s hard not to take notice of his stupidly pretty face everyday. Sometimes, you envy RIn for not only having a perfect physique but also beauty as well. How do his bangs fall so naturally over his eyes? Why are his eyelashes so long? Why are his cheeks so puffy? You can't help but blush every time his features come into your field of vision.

Your friend, upon obtaining this precious piece of information, teases you every chance they get. And today is no exception.

Your friend suddenly stops you and mischievously wraps their arm around yours, pulling you in Rin’s direction. “Uhh…why are we heading towards him?” you pause in your tracks, turning to your friend in confusion. “I’m gonna help you confess your feelings to him!” your friend beams, eyes twinkling. “WHAT??” you whisper-shout, not wanting to catch Rin’s attention.

You pull your friend in the opposite direction, trying to stall the impending doom settling on you. But you were no match for their unearthed strength and will to get you to confess. After all, they've been your #1 shipper for as long as you could remember. Once you got close enough to him, you friend pushes you in Rin’s direction, causing you to collide directly with his body. His head shoots up at the sudden contact and he quickly catches you in his arms with his godly athlete reflexes.

In that moment, you don’t know what to feel. You are flustered that your crush was holding you in his arms yet mad at your friend for putting you in this situation. Rin surely isn't making it easier for you to think straight with his firm grip on your body. As a spontaneous decision, you’ve decided to deal with your friend first then explain the situation to Rin later in class. You quickly realize that if you don’t escape from Rin’s grasp and the awkward tension building up in the air, you actually might explode.

Unfortunately, when you turn your head back to shout at your friend, they’ve already rushed down the hallway, their echoes reverberating against the floor. “Thank me later!” is all that echoed from the hallway as your friend escapes your seething wrath. You try to remove yourself from Rin’s arms to chase after them only to be tugged back into his chest.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s not your fault they played dirty” he chuckles and you can feel the deep vibrations through his toned chest. You smile politely and successfully back away this time. “Oh- right, I’m sorry,” you bow your head in apology. “I’m glad you’re okay but why did your friend do that...?” Rin hesitantly inquired. “Uhmm it’s nothing, just a harmless prank, that’s all,” you murmur quickly, hoping to gloss over the topic.

Rin already knows about your crush on him. It’s pretty obvious considering the way you stare at him in class everyday. You’re not a subtle as you think when your attention is on him instead of on the teacher. He knows you pretend to be stupid to get him to help you on those practice questions (and he plays along). He knows you’re the one who keeps leaving snacks and drinks on his desk with a cute little sticky note. Long story short, he knows everything. He just wants to see how far he can go before the dam bursts and you admit your feelings to him. Surprisingly for him, he doesn't have to go that far.

“It doesn’t seem like nothing, considering I'm the only person in this entire area? And what’s with the ‘thank me later'? Just tell me what’s wrong y/n,” Rin pretends to get mad at you as he stares at you coldly.

You make the mistake of glancing into his eyes and immediately fold under his intense gaze. You're pretty certain of the inevitable outcome of getting rejected so, there’s nothing for you to be afraid of at this point. “I-it’s because I have a crush on you and my friend was trying to tease me, sorry for disturbing you bye—” you cut yourself off and start backing up away from him. But before you can get too far, Rin tugs on your arm and you fall into his body again. Your face comes in direct contact with his built chest and now you’re really confused. Why is Rin pulling you against him every chance he gets?

A beat of silence passes as you wait for him to say something. “Thank god,” he sighs as he wraps his arms around you and practically encases you against his body. “Huh?” you mumble, your voice muffled by his shirt. You lift your face up to look at him, your chin coming in contact with his shoulder. Rin holds you in his grasp and looks down at you with absolute adoration in his eyes. “I like you too, silly,” he whispers. Your eyes widen in initial surprise but wrap your arms around him nonetheless. You think your heart is about to burst at how gentle he is with you. Your last straw comes in the form of the gentle kiss that he places on your head. Blood rushes up to your cheeks and you nuzzle your face into his chest out of sheepishness, to which he chuckles at in amusement. You two stay in each others arms for a long time.

You definitely have your friend to thank for.

…

“You know, you aren’t really slick when you stare at me in class right?” he teases you as you two walk to lunch together hand in hand.

“Hey!!!”

[zoeykallus]

The Bad Batch/ Mayday/Rex x Reader Prompts – Confessions

Part 3/7 - Crosshair

Warnings: Hurt/Angst/Comfort/Fluff/Love Confessions

Masterlist

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

This is a continuation of this request :

The Bad Batch/ Mayday/Rex x Reader Prompts – Confessions

Crosshair

You don't really know how to talk to him. As soon as his intense eyes look at you, your voice crawls and a horde of butterflies flutter wildly in your stomach.

In the beginning it was okay, but at some point, Crosshair just had to look at you to make your voice fail.

He doesn't know that he has this effect on you, he doesn't know that his voice sends little shivers down your spine, making everything inside you go crazy, pulse, heartbeat, temperature, hormones, thoughts… everything.

Wrecker likes to play practical jokes on the Sniper. Out of an impulse to have more contact with Crosshair, you join in these pranks at some point. You sometimes feel a little immature about it, but this simple contact with Crosshair is worth it.

He usually reacts grumpily, but he's never really that angry, and your pranks are usually quite harmless. The only time he was really a bit sour was when Wrecker and you stuck all the toothpicks Crosshair had in stock to his helmet. Of course, you insisted on water-soluble glue when Wrecker told you the idea, a prank shouldn't cause permanent damage in any way.

One evening, you're all sitting together, having a good time, eating well, telling jokes, unpacking card games. Music is playing on the radio in the background, and occasionally one or two people hum along to one of the songs. In general, everyone is in a good mood, including the sniper. The evening is going great, and you even talk to Crosshair a little, you joke with each other, and you're beaming the whole time, totally happy about his attention.

He gently nudges you with his elbow as you play cards and says with a smirk, “You're holding your cards too low, hold them a little higher, almost everyone can see what's in your hand”

“Oh”, you say in surprise and comply with his suggestion, “Thanks”

Today is the day, you think, today you finally tell him how you feel. It doesn't matter that you lose almost every game. The boys are too good, and you can hardly concentrate on the game. You pay much more attention to every sound and every movement of your crush, Crosshair, who is sitting quite close to you. Sometimes, when your eyes meet during the game, he smirks mischievously at you, and you feel yourself melting inside.

You are still waiting for a good opportunity. During a break in the game, when Crosshair wants to get drinks, you offer to help him and accompany him. On the way to get the drinks, your heart races as you gently but firmly grab his arm.

“Can we talk for a minute?”

Crosshair stops and turns to you. He looks at you intently, and you feel yourself growing nervous under his serious gaze.

“Hmm, sure. What's this about?”

You take a deep breath, causing Crosshair to furrow his brows.

“Honestly, I don't even know how to start,” you say with a nervous laugh.

He remains silent, patiently, but he crosses his arms in front of his chest, which makes you even more nervous. His gaze is scrutinizing, almost critical. Your voice threatens to crawl out once again, and you try with all your might to stop it.

You say quite directly, “I have a crush on you”

For a very brief moment, Crosshair's posture wavers, his eyebrows shoot up, but in the same second, he pulls them back together, sternly.

“Was that your idea, or did Wrecker put you up to it?” he growls softly.

You look at him, perplexed. He thinks you're playing a trick on him again. At first, you don't know how to react, your thoughts are in a panic, and you can't organize them quickly enough. In the long pause that has arisen, he suddenly says, “Seriously? Did you think I would fall for this? You and me? As if that was even remotely realistic”

A helpless, “Uh,” escapes your lips.

Crosshair rolls his eyes, “Come up with something better”

He wants to turn away and keep walking, but you say much braver than you feel, loud and clear, “I wasn't kidding”

Crosshair sighs, stops and turns back to you, a few steps away from you.

“Really? You insist on going through with this gag? Come on, let it go, surely you can think of something better”

You clench your hands into fists in frustration. But your gaze lowers dejectedly as you ask, “Why would you and I be an unrealistic thing?”

Crosshair listens up.

He asks lurking, “Does it matter?”

You answer quietly, “It does to me”

You hear his footsteps, finally see his boots and hear him say, “Look up, at me”

As you comply with his request, his eyes bore into yours.

“You really weren't joking, were you?” he asks seriously.

You swallow, but finally nod.

“I wouldn't joke about that”

His gaze is still scrutinizing as he asks, “Really?”

“Never”

Crosshair suddenly smirks, leaning towards you. Your heart doesn't quite know whether to jump out of your chest or stop, as his face comes closer. You hold your breath, your eyes close. First you feel his hand on the back of your neck, his arm wrapping around your middle, then you feel his lips on yours, warm, softer than expected, lingering gently for a long moment. Fireworks explode in your chest, everything tingles, hums, dances. Your entire body seems to be celebrating a feast of sensations and perceptions. You smell him, his aftershave, feel the warmth of his body, so close...

Then suddenly everything is as if wrapped in absorbent cotton, dull, numb. When you open your eyes, it feels a little like you've just woken up from a dream. Surprised, you realize that you are no longer standing, but hanging in Crosshair's arms, who is kneeling on the floor. “How did that happen?” you ask, perplexed, looking up into his worried face. “You don't know?” You think for a moment before answering, “We talked, then you kissed me”

Crosshair nods and says, “And you just passed out during the kiss”

“I was unconscious?”

Crosshair sighs, his features relaxing a little as he replies, “hmm, looked like it”

“How long?”

“Just a few seconds, maybe half a minute”

You laugh softly, shyly and confess to him, “I was so nervous, I was holding my breath and my pulse was so fast…. I think that must have been it”

You realize that you are still lying in his arms, but you don't really want to get up. You could get used to being held by him like this.

Crosshair smirks, “I make you that nervous?”

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

“Well, yes.”

His smirk widens.

“I kind of like that, Kitten”

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaw

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

@jediknightjana

@pb-jellybeans

@antishadow2021

@sleepycreativewriter

@projectdreamwalker

@1vlouds

@clonelovr

@ivyyyyy

[jpitha]

Allergies

This is a rewrite of one of my oldest shorts. As a writer - especially one who posts online - never worry about redoing some old work and posting the new one. Artists often will show their old work against their new right? No reason writers can't do the same either. Be proud of all your work, but feel free to show your improvement too!

The small station was in a popular shipping lane, so it had high amounts of traffic. Even though the humans had brought their wormhole generator drives, many people were still used to using the Gate system. Retrofitting every starship would be too costly, take too much time, and (some worried) would shift the power balance towards the humans too much. One didn't have to be human to be set in one's ways.

Because of the high amounts of traffic, most of the people on the station worked in the service industry. Providing meals, entertainment, refreshments, repairs and other such things, the population was quite diverse. In their off hours, they mingled and socialized.

Generi stood there awkwardly, still wearing the uniform of the trinket shop he worked in, his tail drooped and his ears low, trying to make sense of it. “Explain allergies to me one more time?”

Meg sniffed and wiped her eyes, but she smiled softly. She was sitting at a table in the resident's lounge. At her feet was a bouquet of flowers “Our bodies have this compound, called histamine. It's released in response to an attack - an internal attack - on our bodies. It's meant to help our bodies expel an invader. You know about itching? I've seen K'laxi do it. It's one of the regulators of our itching response. Mind, you, Histamine does way more than that, but we're talking about allergies right now."

"Wait, what do you mean by attack?" One of his ears perked up. This went from embarrassing to interesting very quckly.

"I know you have bacteria Generi, I also know your bodies digest food for energy. What happens when you get an infection?" Meg said, raising an eyebrow. Her sniffles and tears had subsided now that the bouquet was away from her face.

"Oh, I've never heard it called an 'attack.' Uh, our body temperature lowers, and we go into a kind of torpor. We lay down somewhere safe and stay still. Since the bacteria only can thrive in a narrow range of temperatures our bodies cool until our immune systems can take care of it." Generi puts his paw on the chair opposite Meg and looks at her, questioningly. She nods and he takes a seat.

"Really? Cools? But wouldn't that have put your ancestors at risk for predation- wait you didn't have predators, you were apex in your niche, weren't you?"

"I'm... not really sure. I'm not an anthropologist."

"Me neither, but I think I remember reading something like that. Our bodies are different. They raise their temperature to fight infections. It's more dangerous than your torpor because we can... well, die from it." Meg shrugs. "It doesn't happen too much anymore, but it used to be more of a thing."

"That sounds like a human, yes. In a race between killing your infection and killing yourself." Generi's tail flicks - a grin.

"We're getting off topic." Meg gestures towards the flowers, "in the case of an allergic reaction, our bodies call for histamine to be released when a harmless-" She glanced over and saw Generi's face "Fine, harmless - for us - substance enters our body, but we treat it like an invader."

"And this happens to everyone?" Generi was amazed at this impromptu biology lesson. It certainly seemed like humans were nearly constantly at war with something. Their own bodies, themselves, their neighbors, no wonder they were so good at it.

"No, not everyone, but a lot of people. It's fairly common. Anyway, in some people the body overreacts to the substance and produces histamine which causes the allergic reaction. Sneezing, runny nose, itchy eyes and body, congestion, things like that."

Generi flicked his ears and nodded, combing the two species gestures for assent. "Okay, I understand now. So the flowers...."

"Yes, I'm allergic to Roses." Meg blew her nose.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Generi was despondent. "I read about giving humans flowers as a sign of affection and I...I wanted..."

"Oh, I understand the intent Generi, I'm touched, really!" Meg reached over and patted his paw. She noticed his fur rise just a little bit. "I'm just allergic to Roses. Next time, try a different flower." She stood. "Wherever did you get them?"

"One of the humans over in Little Earth is growing them. He has a whole garden." He voice was filled with wonder.

"I had no idea. I can't believe the station authorities allowed it, some human plants are downright... prolific." Meg stared at Generi for a second. "How about you take me down to see them? I'll take an allergy pill first, and we can look at them together before it's shut down and it has to all go into the incinerator."

"You mean, like a date?" Generi's ears stood straight up, and his fur rippled once.

Meg started to laugh but held it back so as to not hurt his feelings. "Sure, just like a date. It'll be fun."

[diazsdimples]

"You're the only person I could even fathom doing this for" + Buddie

"You're the only person I could even fathom doing this for," Eddie grouses as he and Buck weave their way through the crowd, heading towards the meetup point near the starting line.

There are ten other teams (couples? Eddie's never entirely sure what to call them) also milling around, waiting to be called up. Among them are what feels like hundreds of crew members, camera people, health and safety coordinators, you name it.

Buck nudges Eddie's shoulder with his as they walk. "And can I just once again reiterate how grateful I am that you agreed to come. I could have asked Hen or Chim, but I don't think they would have been so keen."

Eddie snorts. "Hen and Chim would have walked off before you even finished the first leg." He hoists the overly large backpack up his shoulders, swinging it around to do a last-minute check that they've got everything they need.

"They just can't keep up with my boundless enthusiasm," Buck replies airily. He grins down at Eddie. "It's not their fault, I suppose. You're just the only person I know who's got a chance at keeping up with me."

"Yeah well, I did say I'd have your back." Eddie puts on a show of sighing loudly, but there's no hiding the grin that's pulling at the corners of his mouth. "I probably should have seen this coming."

Buck stops, causing a crew member to dodge him and shoot him a dirty look. He remains oblivious to this as he regards Eddie with amusement.

"You should have anticipated 7 years ago, when you said you'd have my back, that I'd sweet talk you into coming onto a reality TV show with me?"

"Yep. Exactly that. Silly of me, really."

Buck laughs, a bright sound that makes something in Eddie's chest warm. Buck's smile is a beautiful thing to behold and Eddie can't help but grin right back.

"You're ridiculous," Buck chuckles, falling into step beside Eddie once again as they make their way over to the tent where the other racers are waiting.

When Buck had approached Eddie with the idea of applying for the Amazing Race USA, it had initially seemed like a harmless joke, a "yeah we should totally do that," without any real intention of actually applying.

And then Buck had shown up at his house with a tape recorder and a grin, and had begged and begged and begged for them to record a clip to send in. Had it not been for Christopher's puppy eyes ("please Dad, I'll be the coolest kid in school!") Eddie probably wouldn't have gone through with it. But Buck knew Eddie's weakness (his son) and boy had he weaponised him.

They sent in the tape the next day within a week had received a callback, and now here they were, several weeks and one somewhat awkward conversation with Bobby about why he'd be losing two of his firefighters for a month later, wondering how exactly they managed to push past all the other people applying.

Eddie wasn't one to turn down the opportunity to win a million dollars, not that that amount of money went particularly far in this economy. As he'd joked to Buck, if they won he'd use his share of the money to pay off Christopher's student loans, and then buy himself an ice cream with the leftover cash.

Also, he'd get to travel the world with Buck, which was a huge selling point. Eddie knows he's whipped when it comes to Buck. The idea of travelling with him, seeing the world, competing against others, being at their peak BuckandEddie, it would have been too good to pass up.

They finally reach the tent where the rest of the racers are, and are immediately swooped on by a hoard of crew members, checking over them, making sure they're mic'd up, general TV show admin, Eddie assumes.

"No turning back now, huh," Buck comments, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible. Eddie, however, can see right through him. He hears the slight quaver in Buck's voice, notices the way Buck doesn't quite meet his eye, how Buck's eyes are flickering around him as though on high alert.

"Hey," he says as he places a hand on Buck's shoulder, his thumb brushing against Buck's pulse point. "We're going to be okay. It's going to be fun! Just breathe, okay?"

Buck takes in a deep breath, his shoulders rising and pressing against Eddie's hand before releasing it. Eddie rubs his thumb back and forth over Buck's neck, giving him the smallest of squeezes.

"Right," Buck nods, his mouth quirking into a half smile. "Just us versus the world, huh?"

Eddie returns his smile with an easy grin, and he has to resist the urge to lean over and press a gentle kiss to Buck's cheek. "You and me, and 11 countries. We've got this."

There's a loud foghorn noise, signalling the teams to line up at the starting line, facing the host. Eddie's hand moves to cup Buck's cheek, patting him once, twice, before dropping down to his side. Buck flushes a beautiful pink and together they make their way to the line, ready to begin the adventure of a lifetime.

Gonna tag some friends who might be interested.

@theotherbuckley @hippolotamus @daffi-990 @bidisasterevankinard @neverevan

@spotsandsocks @aroeddiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @watchyourbuck

[itsaurriebaby]

Scaramouche had always been known for his sharp tongue and sarcastic wit, and while his lover understood his personality, there were moments when his words could cut deeper than intended. One evening, as they were strolling through the moonlit streets of Inazuma, a playful argument took a turn for the worse.

"You're so clingy," Scaramouche remarked with a smirk, not realizing the pain it would cause.

His lover, who had always been by his side and cherished every moment with him, felt a pang in her heart at those words. They had shared countless adventures, and she had given her heart to him completely. Her voice trembled as she replied, "Clingy? Is that what you think of me?"

Scaramouche, in the heat of the moment, didn't fully grasp the weight of his words until he saw the hurt in her eyes. He tried to backtrack, but his pride kept him from immediately apologizing.

"I mean, it's not a bad thing, I just need some space once in a while," he said, trying to salvage the situation.

His lover, however, couldn't shake off the hurt she felt. She had been nothing but supportive and devoted to him. She turned away, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, and whispered, "Maybe I should give you the space you need."

Scaramouche immediately regretted his thoughtless comment as he saw her start to walk away. He grabbed her hand and pulled her back gently. "Wait, don't go. I didn't mean it like that."

Tears finally spilled from her eyes, and she looked up at him, her vulnerability on full display. "Then how did you mean it?"

Scaramouche took a deep breath and looked into her eyes, his voice softened. "I... I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I just thought it was a harmless tease, but I see now how much it affected you. I'm sorry, truly."

His lover couldn't help but let a small smile tug at her lips. "You're not one to apologize often, are you?"

He sighed, his hand reaching up to cup her cheek gently. "No, I'm not. But you mean the world to me, and I hate seeing you upset. I don't want to push you away."

She leaned into his touch, feeling the warmth of his hand on her skin. "I don't want to be clingy, but I can't help it. I love you so much, Scaramouche."

He smiled, his eyes filled with love and sincerity. "I love you too, more than anything. I was wrong to say what I did. I promise I'll be more considerate in the future."

They hugged tightly, making amends under the moonlight. The night was still, and in that quiet moment, they found solace in each other's arms. Scaramouche realized that his lover's affection wasn't a weakness but a strength, a testament to the depth of her love for him. From that night on, he made sure to show her just how much she meant to him, and their relationship grew stronger because of it.

~~~~~

this was ai generated btw

[bottledkriegmen]

ZERO DAY HEADCANONS!! >O<

xoxo @calcyum helped me write some of these go look at his art its so yummy!! literally the loml MWAH

☆ Cal tells white little harmless lies like, all the time. He doesn't mean to, it just happens

⋆ Example, he says he doesn't like ice cream but he can and will absolutely destroy an entire tub of chocolate icecream in a heartbeat

☆ Andre burned the shirt he got called a faggot in the bonfire before Zero Day.

☆ Cal's half Russian, his bio dad lives in the European half of Russia.

☆ They both call Mel, "Mel Bell" or "Melanie Bellanie"

☆ Andre played softball when he was little.

⋆ He quit because he got hit really hard in the head by a bat.

☆ Cal's a total metalhead. He has a ton of diff band tee's, but he's never gone to a concert.

☆ Andre has especially sharp canines!! (Feeding into Dogdre propaganda/j)

☆ Cal is a chronic doodler. If he and Andre are sitting next to eachother and Cal has a pen or sharpie in his grasp, Andres getting a whole SLEEVE of silly little doodles all over his arm.

⋆ he's also a stick n poke master, he's got little tatoos littering his ankles.

☆ Andre is a left handed shooter, right handed writer..... Cal is the opposite.

☆ Andre is a polyglot!! He forgets words in English and has to try to convey what he's trying to say to Cal in literally any other language he can think of. (Never works.)

⋆ This makes him so unbelievably mad.

☆ Cal watched Duckman growing up.

⋆ He introduced it to his siblings and they used to all watch it together!! TRUST!!

☆ Andre watched M*A*S*H growing up...

☆ Cal knows how to play a few diff instruments, other than a guitar and sitar.

⋆ Violin, piano, trumpet, all that good stuff.

☆ There's definitely a few holes in the basement walls of Andre’s house. He'll swear it wasn't him. (It was.)

☆ Cal is very awkward with love in general. He'd be an... okay boyfriend, but he would NOT pay enough attention to his partner because he'd be too busy hanging out with Andre.

☆ Andre 100% grew up on older fashioned values with new fashioned eyes iykwim. He'd treat his partner with the utmost respect, but he'd also have the same problem as Cal. He wouldn't pay much attention to them.

☆ (A personal fave) Cal and Andre have matching dog tags!

⋆ Before their final scene in Zero Day, Cal and Andre decided to switch dog tags with eachother. (fags..)

☆ Andre got a little teddy bear as a birthday present when he was itty bitty, and kept it. He's wayy to embarrassed to show anybody.

⋆ Cal found it one day and Andre nearly lost his shit.

☆ Cal often meows or hums in response when talking to Rachel or Andre when he doesn't feel like actually speaking.

☆ Stealing this from another post (I can't find creds rn i am SO sorry), Cal's siblings absolutely love Andre. He's like their other older brother.

⋆ Andre loves them just the same, he's such a good big brother. :(

☆ Cal's sister paints both Cal's and Andre’s nails, and makes them attend her tea parties with her stuffed animals.

☆ Mel follows Andre around the house wherever he goes. There's literally not a second when she's not behind him.

⋆ She gets jealous of Cal whenever he's too close to Andre.

☆ Andre and Cal share a bed everytime they spend the night with eachother.

⋆ They totally spoon but like hell they'd ever admit that.

these were so fun to write guys ty again ml MWAUGHH

[sepublic]

I kinda wish Matoro had a solid moment, or moments, to be with his teammates and just recuperate after dealing with Makuta's bullshit for so long. That must've been so nightmarish and traumatizing; Being forced so close to this horrible evil who is maliciously responsible for every bad thing that's happened to you. And you can't speak up about it, you have to play along with him, cooperate even.

Your loved ones are right there in front of you, but you have to hide it for the sake of protecting them from this monster that threatens their lives, while having the audacity to present this absurd facade of being totally normal and harmless. This monster will look them in the eye and you just have to smile through gritted teeth and say everything is okay, when all you want to do is scream and shout; At him for how awful he is, at everyone for how they need to run away. All the while the monster does everything to get under your skin and push every boundary because he knows he can get away with it.

You're just having it hammered into your head that you're an awful person for keeping secrets and in general, that's why he chose you, and you're stuck between a rock and a hard place where any action you take is cruel and selfish; Tell them and they get hurt because you wanted relief. Don't tell them and you've once again lied, hurting them emotionally, breaking their trust because you didn't believe they could help.

I'd really love it if Matoro could just... vent and collapse and cry about the repression he had to deal with, and all of his friends hug and reassure him, telling him Makuta was wrong. They still care, what happened to him was wrong. It's alright now. Makuta's gaslighting last words about how he's "proud" of Matoro mean nothing; Don't let him get to you, he's gone and you've cut him out of your life. We love you, we forgive you. And you can forgive and love yourself, too.

Alas, he had no time for that; Instead he had to worry about the Barraki and saving Mata Nui's life. And once again Matoro gave up everything, quietly and nobly suffering for everyone, while they had to mourn and grieve and feel that they took him for granted. If only it was them for once instead of him. If only they could've helped or done more, and he could let them in. But they asked too much of him and it killed Matoro. The most Matoro ever got to ask for help was when he discreetly communicated to Hahli once that something was wrong, but he deserved so much more.

[yanderes-galore]

Is it possible to ask for a romantic concept of Miguel + Peter B Parker sharing a darling???

I'll try! It may be short but I hope it comes out okay :) I wasn't sure what to add without repeating myself.

Miguel O'Hara Concept

Peter B. Parker Concept

Yandere! Miguel O'Hara + Peter B. Parker Sharing

(General Thoughts)

Pairing: Romantic - Sharing

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Poly/Sharing, Manipulation, Overprotective behavior, Isolation, Implied kidnapping, Violence, Clingy behavior, Marking mention, Stockholm syndrome implication, Possessive behavior, Forced relationship.

We can assume based on how I portray the two that they're both the protective type.

As a result they'd tolerate sharing you.

Peter no doubt would be the one to fall for you first.

But first he'd try to get Miguel used to you, the start of breaking down his friend's walls.

The two have very different intensities but overall have the same goal: keeping you safe, like heroes (and lovers) should.

Peter is softer and more delusional, he clings to you with the hostility of a teddy bear.

Then there's Miguel who is rougher and more possessive, clinging to you with the possessiveness of a beast.

Peter is the faster obsession while Miguel takes longer.

If they're sharing then Peter would make Miguel's obsession develop faster by having you three get to know each other.

You can bet your home quickly becomes Miguel's office the moment the two obsessions start.

Peter is relatively lax in his obsession.

Such a thing frustrates Miguel since he hates how carefree/lazy Peter is at times.

How are they supposed to protect you if he acts like this!?

Miguel as a result is much more serious and strict.

Peter would be the one to drag you into cuddles and praises.

While Miguel would be one to enforce things, such as punishments and isolation. He's the driving force once he's on board.

The two of them have a craving for a sense of family.

In this AU Peter is still divorced, so he's chasing the feeling he had before with you.

Meanwhile Miguel has his own backstory with family, even replacing an alternate version of himself to have one.

The two Spider-Men feel they have a chance to have a family if they both have you.

Between the two of them there would be a lot of manipulation and isolation.

Miguel is adamant that keeping you away from others and in the sight of Peter and him will keep you safe and happy.

Obviously Miguel can be more intimidating with his methods... so Peter comes in to comfort and reassure you.

I imagine Peter would remind Miguel to be nicer around you.

Neither of them would kill but may get violent if they felt they were threatened by an anomaly or another Spider-Person.

Miguel comes off as scary but he's really just trying to do the right thing like any Spider-Person.

And Peter? ... for the most part very harmless.

Miguel is more possessive with affection, he'd be the one to mark/bite, bruise your lips with kisses, leave marks, etc.

Meanwhile Peter is soothing with his affection yet starved, he'd give you softer kisses and gentle touches yet at times never leave your side for hours.

Really once you're brought to the Spider Society, even as a Spider-Person, like in the Miguel concept you can't escape.

Miguel will drag you back, scold you, perhaps even suggest punishment... before Peter comes in.

Peter would calm everyone down even though you did worry him.

Peter can help you at times unless you upset him.

After that he lets Miguel deal with things.

Honestly, if they had to, they have ways of keeping you trapped.

Many ways....

You see, it would be better if you accept the fact they're protecting you.

Freedom right now may be too dangerous for their sweetheart.

That's okay, your boyfriends will show you that they do this out of love for you...

You may even forget about freedom the more they're around if they're lucky.

[crypticjackal13]

How about a prompt (one shot or head canon, your choice) for wukong and Macaque with a S/O (platonic) who is an introverted pacifist (most of the time) but if provoked can show a display of power rivaling the monkey king.

Funky!

SWK and Macaque x Introverted but scary!GN!reader (Platonic Headcanons!)

SWK - At first he's like "aw sweet person who likes hanging out with me :)" and he's absolutely adoring how nice you are. He's convinced you can do no wrong! But then you get provoked and it's a whole different story. He sees your abilities and he can't help but be a bit intimidated. He hesitates to ask you about it. If you talk to him about it first, he'll be more calm and probably more openly curious. But if he has to come to you, he'll be a little more cautious. He doesn't want another Macaque situation in any capacity, so he treats you as well as he's able to....he still thinks you're fun to be around though!

Macaque - he likes hanging out with you! You just get it. He's introverted too, but even on days where he's a little low on energy he's happy to make some time for you. He likes enjoying some quiet time with you, reading or listening to music. He's generally much nicer to you than others since he feels you two understand each other. When he has an opportunity to see what you're like when provoked, he can't help being a little fearful. After all he thought you were relatively harmless. This new side is a bit intriguing to him, but he knows now to keep himself in your good graces.

[clairewritesandrambles]

LOVED all your scott alphabet prompts , not sure if you’re still taking them and if you aren’t please ignore this, but if you are me s,t, and u from the general prompt list?? thank you so much!!

Hi anon! Yes, I am still taking prompts for both the alphabet game as well as the kissing prompts so please feel free to send in as many prompts as you'd like! I have done S and T in this post here, but here is U for you!

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Where do I even begin? Obviously, he's that Scott-itude that needs to be handled from time to time, because he has a tendency to lash out even when everyone, including him, knows he shouldn't.

He also has a bad habit of working too late, if you don't remind him to go home he'd easily be there between 9 and 10 every night. This does lead to him forgetting about occasionally, but he would definitely do his best for his partner. If it's something really important, he literally sets alarms to go off when he needs to leave just so he can be there for you.

His most harmless bad habit, though, is that he spoils himself for every movie you two have ever watched. He just can't help himself, he immediately goes to Wikipedia and reads the entire plot section. He defends it until the day he dies though, because it means he can warn you during horror movies if there is about to be something he knows you won't want to watch.

[writeforfandoms]

Warrior Song 13

Find the series masterlist

Okay guys, we're approaching the end! I think we've got two chapters left in this story. And remember, if you kill me, I can't finish the story.

Medic learns more about Atriox's plan, and has a difficult decision to make.

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical plots against humanity, nobody likes humanity I guess, playing fast and loose with canon, canon is my sandbox. Mention of injuries.

Word count: 2k

Master chief/John-117 x f!reader

“Humanity has been more opposition than I first imagined,” Atriox growled. He’d left you on the ground, for which you were grateful. It was easier to hide the shaking when you were already seated. “But you will not be for much longer.” 

You couldn’t see exactly what he was doing. You were a medic, not an engineer. But you knew it was bad. 

You wished you did know what he was doing, so you could find some way to stop him. 

Not that you really thought you could. You were, after all, the third most harmless person on this ring. 

“Why did you not break when you lost your Master Chief?” 

It took you a solid two seconds to realize that Atriox was not speaking to you, but speaking of humanity in general. You swallowed hard.

“Well, he died before, so.” You almost immediately winced at yourself. Oh yeah, great plan, snark at the maniac with the weapons and hands as big as your head. Good job. 

Atriox huffed. “Then I will see to his death permanently this time,” he growled. “He will be the first, but not the last.” He looked down at you over his shoulder, the blue lighting only making him more intimidating, somehow. 

You swallowed hard. That was very much a threat. One he apparently intended to see through. 

This was so bad. 

Two of the Endless floated nearer to him, and Atriox once again elected to ignore you, back to you. You took the chance to look around, carefully. You were far from alone, after all. 

There were weapons and supplies stacked neatly. More than you were comfortable seeing. 

It looked like war preparations. 

Which was terrifying, of course, but also rather useless here. Sure, Atriox could lead the Endless and whatever of his forces remained against the humans here on the Halo, but that was far from all of humanity. 

Fernando had told you the Halo was non-operational, John had dismantled whatever it was that made it a weapon. 

So what was Atriox’s plan? 

Not that it really mattered, so long as someone thwarted his plan. You doubted you could do much, but you could try. 

Very carefully, you scooted back away from the control panel and Atriox. Nobody even looked at you, clearly deeming you harmless. 

Maybe you could use that to your advantage? Somehow? 

You could feel the Halo humming under you, gentle vibrations that would have been soothing if you weren’t absolutely terrified. Nobody else seemed to pay it any attention, but you leaned into it a bit. 

Look, you could really use anything to help you calm down a bit just about now. 

Okay, so you couldn’t tell what they were planning, and they were currently ignoring you, correctly deciding that you were not someone they needed to worry about. Okay. What else could you do? 

There were tons of weapons, of course. Most of which you didn’t know how to use. And which you had no chance of doing any real damage with. Okay, yeah, not your best idea. Moving on. 

The Endless seemed to be doing their own thing - only a few were around Atriox. You didn’t know where the rest had gone, because when Chief had been chasing them there had been many, many more. Possibly they were around the rest of the Halo? But for what purpose?

Maybe they knew how to repair it.

The thought stirred dread in your chest, cold seeping into your bones and your mind. That… was horrifying. And terrible. That would end so poorly. 

But you had to consider it.

From what you remembered, the Endless had been around with the Forerunners, so there was a possibility they knew how to work this tech. 

Which was honestly pretty terrifying. But this whole situation was pretty terrifying, so you weren’t sure how to qualify the actual level of terrifying anymore. 

Okay. So. Atriox and the Endless were definitely up to something. You couldn’t do a lot from here. But you could watch, observe, try to piece together their plan.

And that’s exactly what you did. You sat there, thigh aching, gaze fixed on Atriox and the Endless around him. Maybe if you watched you’d get some hint, some clue as to their plan. Maybe. 

It was the least you could do, anyway. 

For the large part, they all ignored you. Atriox, the Endless, the Sangheili. All of them. You were beneath their focus, not worthy of watching more than to make sure you didn’t grab a weapon and start shooting. 

Not that you were offended by this. They were pretty much right about that. 

You had no idea how long you sat there. Time was meaningless and impossible to track. You just stayed exactly where you were, watching everything.

So when the Sangheili approached you again, you flinched. But he just sneered down at you and hauled you to your feet, grip uncaringly tight around your upper arm. You winced but kept quiet. 

You were moved through a doorway, though your thigh ached and threatened to give out from under you. A walkway went around the circular room, with a single walkway stretching out over nothingness to a central point. 

“Move,” Atriox growled from to the side of you. You chanced a quick look, but he was just watching you. So you stepped forward carefully, slowly. 

“What am I doing?” You kept your voice low - it felt wrong to speak at full volume here. 

“Ensuring my victory.” Atriox stepped up behind you, too close, looming over you. Then again, being on the same damn Halo as him was too close. Two of the Endless floated near you, watching with open curiosity. 

So. They needed you to do something. Some way to interact with the Halo, or activate it, or something. But they needed you to do it. Or else why bother grabbing a human at all? Why bother keeping you alive? 

Too many questions, not enough answers, and no way to get them. You blew out a slow breath, looking down at the interface in front of you. You could probably throw yourself off the walkway, which would at least slow down his plans. Give Blue Team a chance to catch up and stop him. 

But you didn’t want to. You really didn’t want to. 

Apparently tired of waiting for you, Atriox grabbed your arm, pulling your hand forward to slap against the interface. It lit up vibrant blue, sending chills down your spine. 

“The Forerunners thought they were being so clever,” he growled, watching various statuses show up, flicking through them. “Leaving their technology to humans.” 

The two Endless moved closer, and you stepped away. Carefully. Slowly. Your arm ached and throbbed where you’d been grabbed twice now, but nobody stopped you. They were focused on the displays. 

Okay. Maybe you could back up, grab a weapon, and… do something. 

You didn’t have a chance to plan more than that, though, as the sound of gunfire echoed down into the open room. Atriox started barking orders, his remaining soldiers gearing up quickly. 

You used the distraction to scuttle away as fast as you could, trying to remain out of the way. Partially because you didn’t want to get shot, and partially because you didn’t want to get grabbed as a shield. It was easy for you to hide in the growing chaos, looking around almost desperately for some way to defend yourself. 

The sounds of fighting grew louder, the shots getting closer. You had just turned to look back at the weapons stash, so you had a perfect view of Blue Team advancing into the room. Your breath stuttered out of you. They were okay. They were all okay. 

“Master Chief,” Atriox rumbled, taking one step forward. “We meet again.”

Chief didn’t respond, just shifting his grip on his gun, helmet fixed on Atriox. 

“You will not be so lucky again.” Atriox started forward, the floor shaking under his steps as he ran towards Chief. 

You didn’t watch. You couldn’t watch. Two of the Endless were still working at the terminal, completely avoiding the fighting. Whatever they were working on was bad, clearly. They were trying to get it done. 

You’d just have to disrupt their work. 

A shotgun slid towards you, bumping into your shoe. You picked it up quickly and then looked at Blue Team. Fred nodded to you once before he threw a whole Unggoy into the pit, the high-pitched squeals fading quickly.

You didn’t hear it hit the bottom. 

You knew the basics of gun safety, at least, so you were able to point and shoot. Which you did. Your first shot was a little wide, but the second hit both Endless. One of them turned on you with a furious sound while the other continued working. 

Well. Damn. 

You pressed your back into the wall, eyes wide. That had not gone according to plan! 

But the Endless didn’t have a chance to attack. Two more shots hit it in the back, and it turned and… teleported? It did something and moved away from you. 

Giving you a chance to focus on the remaining one. You needed to stop it. Somehow. You had no ammo, no convenient ally to help. 

So you did what you could. You threw the entire shotgun at the Endless. 

The Endless turned, energy crackling at its fingertips. Oh shit. It floated towards you slowly, seemingly just to enjoy the panic on your face as you scrambled backwards, away from it. 

Kelly dropped down out of seemingly nowhere, pinning the Endless beneath her and shooting it in the face three times. “Stop taunting them,” she scolded you, sparing you one look before she leapt off to deal with something else. 

You breathed out slowly, shakily. Yeah. Right. Good idea. You’d accomplished your goal, anyway. 

Back still pressed against the wall, you hunkered down a little, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. The fight around you was loud and far too close, but there was nowhere else to go. 

You had the perfect vantage point to see Atriox look back at the control panel. You saw two Sangheili descend on Chief to distract him. You saw Atriox leap back to the control panel. 

You looked down when you felt something bump into your shoe. Another weapon. But this time it was a grenade. You had no idea what kind it was, or what it did, but you recognized the shape. 

You picked up the grenade. Blue Team was scattered across the room, dealing with the veritable flood of Endless. 

Could you make that throw? Maybe. 

A sharp clang jerked your head to the side as Fred hit the wall across from you, getting back to his feet quickly, in time to block a shot from an Unggoy. 

Your Spartans were doing well, but they hadn’t known the extent of what they faced. They didn’t know Atriox’s full plan.

Neither did you, of course, but you knew more than they did. You knew that he couldn’t succeed. 

You knew what you had to do.

It took all your courage to take that first step forward. Then another. You moved slowly, softly. You didn’t even register to the combatants - the Endless were focused on Blue Team, and Blue Team was focused on eliminating the actual threats with extreme prejudice. 

You nearly wobbled the last step you dared, your instincts screaming at you to run away from Atriox. But you didn’t. You held your ground, facing his back, shaking. You pulled the pin on the grenade, crouching a little. Okay. You could do this. 

You rolled the grenade right between Atriox’s feet until it hit the bottom of the control panel and stopped. 

Your gaze met John’s across the room, his visor impenetrable as ever, but still comforting. He shouted, and it took you a moment to realize he’d called your name. 

Atriox made a triumphant noise. 

John lunged.

The grenade went off.