#But it means that while she's grumping right back she /likes/ the fact he's there <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[tonycries]

FIVE! - C.K.

Synopsis. Five hours - it’s all it takes for Choso’s baby fever to take over. After all, you’d look so pretty with his kid - five of them, in fact.

Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader 

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, established relationship, unprotected, bréeding, Choso with rings + a tongue piercing, creampíe, mentioned kids, cúmplay, he goes feraI, oraI (fem receiving), Itadori family shenanigans (mild spoilers for unc-kuna), overstím, fíngering, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. Will I ever write a Choso fic without the Itadori family? No absolutely not.

4:37PM.

“Ooo, Cho can we check that place out?”

And, listen, just because Choso would give you the moon right along with his heart doesn’t exactly mean he’s jumping with joy when he follows your gaze to that gaudy little shop tucked away in a corner of the mall. Flashing a loud, glittering sign reading, “FORTUNES: FIND YOUR FUTURE!”

Traitorous memories flash through his mind with each step you drag him closer. Of all those fortune shops he’d frequented years ago, trying to figure out whether you’d say yes to a date - before even thinking of actually asking you. 

He won’t ask anything, Choso reassures, stepping through the heady, curtained doorway. Probably not anything, he’s musing, pulling out his wallet to pay for your session. Well, maybe some things, he concludes, eyeing the sprightly old woman that takes a seat opposite you two, peering down at her dramatically large glass ball on the table. 

But that doesn’t mean he’ll-

“Babies.”

“Huh?”

“Yes.” the woman gives a solemn nod. “Five of them.”

Both of you let out a squawk of surprise, much to the amusement of the fortune teller. And Choso can feel his palms getting sweaty against your own as he manages to croak out a low, disbelieving, “Five?”

All but toppling out of his seat in suspense as she takes a moment to scrutinize her orb once more. And, surely glass balls can glitch, right? Mix up fortunes or something? Because while he knows you’ll be by his side in this life and every other one after - kids were a whole other responsibility that neither of you had talked about, yet.

At least, that’s what Choso was trying to convince himself right before the woman lets out a thoughtful hum, “Well, you-” pointing a wisened, accusing finger right in his flushed face. “-want more - about eight - but, of course, your future wife says no.” Gesturing to your giggling figure, “Honestly, young man, learn to keep it in your pants, the poor dear!”

Shit, he was going to run away, do something to end up on the national news - and judging by the way you squeeze his hand, you could tell, too. 

Subconsciously, Choso’s eyes scan the wall for any hidden cameras, wondering what type of strange prank this was. It had happened once four years ago - and just-so-happened to be what made him give up and finally ask you out - but, hey, it made for a pretty great first date story, right?

Finding none, he sighs, barely opening his mouth to ask before she plows on, “And of course there’s only so many your uncle can piggyback at once, right? No matter how much that grump says he doesn’t like it.”

Right.

Of course.

Oh god, he thinks he could faint. 

Choso doesn’t dare say anything for the rest of the session, nor does he look directly in your eyes. Save for that one time to admire your delighted laugh when the fortune teller prattles on about how your kids will “fight his needy self for your attention.”

Not until the two of you are stepping back out into the too-bright mall, your fingers intertwined with his, voice sweet in his ear as you continue with your forgotten mission to find the good brownie mix for the family dinner tonight. 

“Eyes like yours and hair like mine.” You sigh, repeating what you’d heard mere minutes ago. Hooking a finger subtly into his belt loop, smirking, “Sooo, five, huh? You’re this worked up over that?”

“N-no.” Choso replies hastily, but the heavy gulp he takes is a dead giveaway he can’t stop thinking about tiny combinations of the two of you running around. Face too-hot, hands jittery, brows furrowed as he decides for the second time in his life that, yeah he’s never stepping foot inside a fortune shop again. 

You notice - of course, you do. 

Especially when he pulls you into the nearest changing stall, knuckle-deep inside your drenched panties, rings cool against your cunt, lips kissing at your throat. Ignoring your teasing complaints about “getting late”, despite how you’re letting him have his way. 

He feels the vibration of your voice under his hot tongue, laughing - even when he gives your pretty clit a little pinch. “Five.”

And through it all, he can’t help but think - hypothetically, of course, that he hopes they all have your laugh.

---

7:16PM.

Honestly, the one thing that made the Itadori residence more of a home to Choso was having you there. Even when you’re standing with him outside the front door, letting out a sigh as you glare at your sad excuse for brownies.

“Ugh, Cho, we totally burnt them.” you grumble up at your boyfriend. “Your dad is gonna hate it and Sukuna’s gonna make fun of me and-”

“Sukuna can try.” Choso hits the doorbell once more, sure that the ruckus inside was too loud to even think over. “And he probably will.” Before turning back to your adorable pout, and ah he can’t stop himself from cupping your face, smoothing over that furrow in your brow. He leans in to give your lips a chaste peck, “But, he’s still gonna steal some. N’ dad’ll love it, and you already know gramps is gonna sneak in some even though his doctor told him not to.” He’s getting out through kisses, pulling your giggling face closer to his. “And we’ll be lucky to get any before Itadori inhales them.”

He ends his little speech with a slow, lingering kiss. Sliding his soft lips across your now much happier ones. Dancing a hand down to pull your hips closer, murmuring throatily, “N’ most of all, I’m gonna love ‘em, baby.”

You gasp at the feeling of his long fingers pressing just at the hem of your panties through your dress, “You’re- you’re too much.” You hiss, but it comes out more breathless than you intended. “But, the brownies really are-”

Slam!

“Yeah yeah, Jin, the brats are finally here, jus’ fucking on the porch!” 

If there’s anything Choso’s learned from all the times you’ve had dinner with his family, it’s that 1. Yes, the brownies - as burnt and questionable as they were - will always turn out to be a hit in the Itadori household. 2. You were really, really too perfect for your own good, even amidst the chaos. 

“Oh no, let me.” you flash Jin a beaming smile, taking over the well cleared-out plates to the kitchen. Only to be followed by an enthusiastic Yuji almost tripping over his own feet to help you out. 

“You got a good one there.” Choso snaps out of his soft stare to whirl around at where his grandpa was seated next to him. He tips his head over to where you were chattering animatedly with the younger boy taking your load of dishes. “Real lovely. Though, the desert I’m assuming you helped out with.”

Jin pipes up, “Bah! I thought that liquorice was great.”

“They were…brownies.” Face burning, he stammers, knowing full well that you were the one that forgot them in the oven. “And uh y-yeah, you got me…”

And, of course, because it’s a family dinner, Sukuna has to lean over to rile him up. Interjecting teasingly, “Then you best wife that cute lil’ thing up before those baking skills of yours make ‘em run off n’ find someone that can bake.” He smirks devilishly, eyes flitting to the view of the kitchen, “And…”

“And?”

“-is fuckin’ great with kids, too.”

Several things happen at once - the words are barely out of Sukuna’s mouth before he’s being swatted over the head. Hard. After all, being the nicer of the two doesn’t make Jin Itadori forget his roots as the older brother.

And Choso’s jaw is dropping into a soft oh! Not at the unusual display of strength, no, instead it was at the heavenly scene before him.

He swears, the lights grow just a bit brighter and the world becomes a little rosier at the sight of you teaching an eager Yuji the correct way to scrub strainers. Gently guiding the boy until that confused furrow between his brow disappears. “Yeah, just a bit more on the side and you’re done!”

He gives you a very soapy high-five, “You’re literally a lifesaver, Kugisaki was just making fun of me for this the other day.” Moving onto the rest of the workload, “‘Can’t do shit’ gonna show her, seriously. Thank you mom- uh-”

Yuji freezes. You freeze. And it seems that everyone in the world might’ve frozen, except for Sukuna who was still rubbing that bump on his head. 

And you, of course, promptly cutting off the flurry of apologies that looked like they were about to burst from Itadori’s lips. Smiling at the flustered boy softly, “Well…good job, Yuji.” you bump his hip. “And now onto the blender.”

“AW, MAN.”

Suddenly, everything was normal again. Except for Choso - definitely not Choso. 

Mom? 

So utterly, completely not Choso when everyone’s still talking downstairs, and he’s not. Making some cheap excuse about a ‘bathroom break’, which really didn’t explain why he covertly drags you behind him by the hand. All but shoving you into his childhood bedroom, shutting the door as quietly as he could without alerting anyone of your tryst. 

“Ch-Cho-” you squeal when he pushes you against the wall, dropping down to his knees with a fervor that makes you wince. But if it hurt, then Choso doesn’t show it - doesn’t show anything but pure need when he bunches your dress up at your waist. Soft tongue darting out to glide along your drenched slit, “What’s gotten- hngh- into you?”

The only response you get is a murmured growl of something you can’t bother deciphering. And he doesn’t give you any other, either - sluggishly nudging away your panties to admire your glistening cunt. 

So close. Just hovering over your puffy folds, smiling at the way they only get wetter at his hot breath, “Five.”

Too close. Glossy pink lips falling slack to wrap around your clit and-

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

Though, it was more of a bang. And an even louder voice from outside, “OI, you brats better be decent, gramps found some dusty old albums n’ wants you two down.”

---

9:02PM.

“Awww, this is from his first fight with Yuji- yes, Choso so what if I took a picture?” Jin excitedly points to a photo on the page, “Yuji was the one with a bruise, but Choso was the one bawling.”

You titter at the glossy picture, a confused-looking Yuji as a toddler, being smothered by his older brother in a hug - big, fat tears running down his pouty cheeks. Adorable. And somehow that encounter with the fortune teller today rings in your mind - wonder if your kids would have those same eyes?

“As cute as ever, huh?” your gaze dances across all the gems of childhood on the page. 

“Disagreed.” Sukuna leans over, no matter how much he’d like to pretend he wasn’t interested in these albums. “Look how attached the lil’ anklebiter used to be.” A painted nail pokes at one of Choso on his uncle’s shoulders, tiny fists happily gripping onto pink hair - much to his disgruntlement. “And then I look over at him now and-” He glances over at the man in question, very much unamused. “Well. That’s disappointing.”

Choso rolls his eyes, “What’s disappointing is how you’re this old but still can’t find a-” 

“Ooo look this is from when he’d run away during bath time!”

That album is snatched so fast out of Jin’s hands that you wonder whether it might just be your imagination. But you look over at a red-faced Choso, seeing him hold it way above your heads. Muttering out a hasty, “I think that’s enough photo time.”

Amidst the collective groans of disappointment - even Sukuna lets out a low huff, you hadn’t gotten to those ugly matching Halloween costume pictures yet - only Yuji speaks up, “Do you think I’d be like that, too?”

Sukuna scoffs, “What? An emo bastard? Might just work out for ya, kid, the dumbass look isn’t doing you any favors.”

Yuji juts his chin in indignance, “No- we already have Fushiguro for that.” Tilting his head over to the album still tight in Choso’s clutches. “Do you think your kids would like me? Would I be that cool favorite family member?”

“No way, brat. It’ll be me.”

Choso’s grandpa also chimes in as well, “Huh? No, I’d be the favorite.”

“Gramps-”

“Says who?”

“DISRESPECT TO YOUR ELDERS!”

“Hey!” Everything turns to Choso, startled at his sudden outburst. Tension crackling as he pokes a thumb at his chest, “I’d be their favorite. For all five of them.”

And you knew a fist or two to be thrown, hell, you half-expected the album to be used as some type of weapon. Because before you knew it, Sukuna was on Yuji, and both Yuji and Choso were on Sukuna. Falling to the floor in a tangled pile while his grandpa sat on the sidelines, chanting an elated, “Fight! Fight! Fight!”

Ah, it’s times like this that you wonder how Jin Itadori really had the patience. Because with all the grace that was lacking in the current scuffle on the living room floor, he claps his hands loudly. “Alright. Perhaps Choso’s right, that’s enough photo time for tonight.” He plucks the album out of a dazed Choso still gripping onto it, before moving to walk out. “And for the record-” Flashing you all a devious smile which suddenly had you remember that shit, him and Sukuna were twins, after all. “-I’d be the favorite.”

The arguments that followed were ones you had to record on your phone to giggle at later. And, yet, through it all, the only thing you could truly focus on were Choso’s words - all five of them.

Fuck. You were truly, irrevocably so fucked, and one sideglance at the pretty pink blush burning at the tips of Choso’s ears told you he wasn’t faring any better. 

You jolt when his hand wraps around your waist - nothing out of the ordinary - but what was was the way he strayed past their usual perch at your hip, trailing slightly above to just caress your stomach. Something so electric in those eyes when they catch yours briefly. 

All five of them, huh?

---

9:37PM. 

SLAM!

“Cho, why’d you-”

“Shut up.”

You don’t know what’s hitting you first - his lips crashing against yours, or the realization that this was Choso. Dark eyes half-lidded, skin burning, breaths heaving with the fervor he was drinking you in with. 

“What-” you yelp when he pulls away lazily to suck on your lower lip. “What got-” Only to come clashing back down again, drawing out all the air in your lungs as he blindly shoves the two of you against the nearest wall. “What got into you this- mmpf-” And again it’s like Choso didn’t want you to talk - could bare another word in your sweet voice for fear of poking some deep, visceral part of himself awake. 

This time, not even daring to break the kiss, he pants into your open mouth, “Shut up.” So bruisingly sloppy, “Please.”

And oh he was so very determined to have it that way, because all you can do is let out breathless gasps when his hands dance down your body. Handling you so rough with the way he snaps the neckline of your cute lil’ dress, kneading your breasts, your hips. Everywhere and anywhere he could reach until he makes his way down to cup your already-damp cunt through your panties. “-because tonight m’gonna have her talking.”

Choso pushes his hips against yours with a strained grunt. Lips curling into a sinful leer when all you can do is gasp at the outline of his thick erection through his pants. Grinding down onto his palm subconsciously, dragging your sloppy pussy. 

“Shit.” Choso immediately brings his hand up to admire - now all glistening with a sheen of your syrupy slick. Looking you right in your glassy eyes as he pops a wet finger into his mouth. His own rolling to the back of his head, “Oh shit.”

Oh, he was going to enjoy this. So very, very much.

“Turns out…” he trails off, cutting himself off by dropping to his knees. Hard. Large hands groping your ass closer to his greedy mouth, “-she says we got some unfinished business.”

You whine when Choso hooks an index underneath the mound of your drenched panties sliding it along your puffy folds. All the way up until he was nudging at your pretty clit, then down, down, down until you were just coating his fingers. 

“Ngh- Cho-” your knees weaken, when his hot breath hits your pussy. And he notices - of course he does. Circling his muscled arms around your legs to hold you up, “Oh my god s’too much.”

Too much? He’s barely even getting started. And he tells you that - slurs it between his sharp canines biting down on the thin fabric of your panties. He tugs with his teeth, “M’gonna- fuck you smell so heavenly- m’gonna ruin you.” 

You whimper in disbelief. Knowing he was too entranced with your cunt to tease you again, you mewl, “Wh-what’s got you this- fuck- worked up, Cho?”

The only response you get is a throaty growl - like the mere idea of the answer to that has Choso losing his sanity. 

And, honestly he feels like he’s lost it already. Instead, taking his time to watch the way your slick beads through the see-through fabric with each passing second. Breaths coming out in little puffs as he pulls your panties back every-so-slightly and-

“Fuck!”

And then he’s pulling - ripping your poor panties to shreds. Cock twitching wildly at the strings of slick connecting your pussy to the fabric. Mouthwatering. 

Your panties lay in tatters on the floor. The cold air hitting you right along with his steady stream of saliva. Once. Twice. Smearing it across your folds with his thumbs as Choso repeats a single, jagged whisper, “Five.”

But you barely even have the time to register his response before he’s diving nose-deep into your dripping cunt. You don’t even know if he took the time to breathe - hell, he was kissing your puffy folds like he didn’t need to breathe. 

“Shouldn’t have taken me to ngh- that fortune shop.” his lips mesh sloppily with yours. “Shouldn’t have gone to dinner, too.” Licking down your folds, the cold metal of his piercing making your head spin. “Fuckkk we shouldn’t have. Ohhh we shouldn’t have- ”

He can’t help but let out a guttural, fucked-out little grunt at the sight. Looking right up into your glassy eyes as the tip of his nose bumps against your throbbing clit. On purpose. 

You buck your hips deeper into his pretty face, mewling. “O-oh. Fuck- fuck fuck fuck-” Letting him lick so filthily all over your clit - your folds - just barely dipping into your hole like he couldn’t decide. And it finally sets in that just maybe you weren’t getting off easy this time. “Five?”

And fuck you can feel the way Choso grins against your pussy, wrapping his now-glossy lips around your clit to suck so harshly.

“Mhmmm.” he moans, cheeks hollowing as he tugs on your poor, ravaged clit. Rolling his tongue - the ball of his piercing - right across the sensitive bud in just the way he knew you liked. “Shouldn’t have put those thoughts in my head, baby.”

Oh.

Oh, shit. Five. 

You definitely weren’t making it out alive today.

The same sentiment seems to ring in Choso’s pussydrunk head as he pulls away with a lewd squelch to grin up at you. So fucking pretty with his eyes miles away, hair messily framing his smudged eyeliner. Lips all puffy and glistening, your slick covering the lower half of his face, his chin - some even on his jaw like Choso was trying to get messy on purpose. “Ya finally got it, baby? I could feel her gettin’ wetter.”

You did. How could you not?

You jump when Choso reattaches his lips, this time bullying his tongue past your folds, into that first, feeble ring of resistance. Stretching out your sopping entrance on his tongue in persistent, rough pushes. “Seems she hngh- really likes the idea, hm? Of me breeding this lil’ cunt?” he moans, muffled with the way he was thrusting his tongue deeper and deeper with each second. Roaming for those cute sensitive spots he knew so well, “N’ who am I to say no to the fuck- mother of my kids?”

“There! Oh my god there-” you cry when his piercing just hits at your g-spot. “I-I thought you ngh- didn’t want kids, Cho–”

As if to prove you wrong, Choso’s only curling his tongue deeper into your walls. Squeezing past your walls to fuck you exactly the way he wanted to with his aching cock right now. Hitting that magic spot again and again and-

“Oh yeah? Seems-” Like he was fucking addicted, Choso surges forward again. And again. And again and again so deep that you could feel the curve of his chin, each and every movement of his jaw. “Seems the last five hours were a bit- eye-opening. Fuck- you’re squeezin’ me s’fucking- mmf- tight”

And it was true - your walls were milking Choso’s tongue so hard you half-lucidly wondered whether it didn’t hurt. Whether his tongue wasn’t cramping up at this point, lips aching. 

But if they did, then Choso acted the exact opposite. Nails leaving neat little patterns on the plush of your hips as he makes you ride his face harder. 

“Cho!” you buck your hips wildly when that wasn’t enough for your needy boyfriend either. Big, fat tears of overstimulation rising up to your eyes when he swipes his thumb across your pulsing clit. Rings cold against your cunt when he starts to draw urgent, messy little circles in time with his tongue.“Oh fuck-” 

“Five.” he’s spitting into your cunt when your thighs start trembling beside his head. Jaw sagging open so lewdly as he gets faster - sloppier. Fuck any rhythm or reason. “Five.” he moans, sounding as strained as you felt - as taut as a tightrope right now with each drag of your sloppy cunt over Choso’s ravenous mouth. Greedier - letting your slick run all the way down his wrist now with how messy he was getting. “Five.” he whispers, when you finally cum. 

And shit, you’re such a vision when you do. Tears springing to your eyes, fingers tightening on Choso’s hair. Letting out such cute sobs of his name, hips moving out of control all over his mouth while he still pulls and pushes his tongue into your gummy walls. Fucking you so obscenely through your high. 

“Yeah? You all done with the first one, baby?” he rasps, giving your sensitive cunt one, last peck at your delirious nod - and another extra, just to watch you squirm. “Then-” Choso does the same up your body, pressing his lips to your stomach, “-you can-” the valley of your breasts. “-take responsibility.”

That’s all it takes for Choso to easily throw you onto his sculpted shoulders like some ragdoll. Taking long, urgent steps towards the nearest flat surface - that just so happened to be your couch. 

“Cho- slow-” you squeal when he throws you onto the cushions. “-down.”

And he does anything but. Barely paying attention to your zipper when he pulls off whatever’s left of your dress, throwing it god-knows-where behind him. “I’ll buy you a new one when we go pregnancy shopping.”

Choso lets out a long, strained groan when he unbuckles your bra. “Gonna be so pretty as a mama.” Large, soft hands coming to knead and guide your pretty nipples into his mouth, “Gonna be- fuck- so pretty with these all full.” 

And you can only watch, jaw-dropped, as Choso sucks on your tits. Eyes rolling to the back of his head with how harsh he was - as if he was trying to get out milk. Needing to feel it - to taste it on his tongue. 

“And this- oh this-” A hand sneaks its way down to splay out over your stomach. Pressing down, hard. “So round and full with my kid.” He manages to grit out over the metal clinking of his belt, “They’ll look at you and all they’ll see is me.” He pauses, feeling something crinkle in his pocket - a shiny condom. One that Choso chucks along with your dress, “Fuck, they’ll see me. Know how I ruined you. Me me me me-”

Fuck- 

You’re so caught up in Choso’s sinful little mutters that you barely even noticed he’d pull down his pants - just enough for his rock-hard erection to spring free. And he looked so painfully hard, such an angry red at his weeping tip, leaking all the way down, down, down those prominent veins. 

Twitching upwards at the mere sound of your voice, “Why don’t you p-prove it then, Cho?”

You broke him. You were sure you broke him. 

The words have barely left your lips before Choso’s fist is squeezing at the drenched base of his cock. Angry. Desperate. 

All but cumming on the spot when he glides his fat head along your slit - letting your cunt drool all over him before-

“F-fuck-”

“Shhh baby, I know I know.” his mouth crashes against yours in a messy, open-mouthed kiss. Sucking on your tongue while he bullies his massive cock into your snug cunt. Inch by fucking inch. And whatever’s remaining of Choso’s sanity knows he should slow down, let you breathe, maybe stretch you out more - but how could he when he physically can’t. “Fuck- too- too good. God, I have t-to do this more often.”

Your raw cunt too heavenly that he genuinely can’t stop his hips from splitting you apart deeper, from spreading your thrashing legs so far apart it burned.

From feeling the way you’re torn between taking more and flattening your feet to push away- Letting out a strangled groan, “No no no no no- don’t you take this pussy away. How else will I breed her?” He runs his delirious mouth, strong arms just dragging you across the couch back onto his mean cock. “Need this- need this so bad. Fuck-” Choso throws his head back as your cunt sucks up his leaky tip. “-oh god think m’gonna die if I don’t get to breed this pretty pussy. To give her my kid.”

Pushing in small, sharp jabs to bully himself inside, having your puffy folds bulge so obscenely around his cock. Quivering and struggling to take him all. Not even a quarter of the way in yet he was pushing in and out in and out in and-

“Oh- please-” you claw down his toned back, his waist, onto the biceps that were pushing your knees up for easier access, all the way until they were at your tits. Folding you into a tight mating press, “Cho–”

Ah, that little nickname always did things to him. And Choso nuzzles the crook of your neck gently - the exact opposite of his hips, leaving faint, dark streaks of eyeliner on your skin. “What is it? What do you hngh- want, baby? I’ll give ya anything.”

And maybe you were a mastermind. Maybe you were an idiot. Because you hum into his ear, sending goosebumps rising down your boyfriend’s spine, “Wan’ five of them.”

If you thought you broke him before then you fucking ruined him now.

Because in one, harsh thrust he’s bottoming out - feeling like he was pushing all the way into your lungs, your hazy brain. And the stretch - fuck. You could feel each and every dip and curve of Choso’s girth, thrumming against your plushy walls. Still pushing inside you despite bottoming out, stretching you out like such a slut. 

It was all Choso could do to echo, over and over like some type of mantra. “Finally- Five, huh? Five- Fuck!” Leaving little bruises on your thighs from spreading them apart so hard. “Gonna give you five- fuck- five.”

Each word was punctuated by a long, mean thrust, not daring to reel back until Choso could feel his fat head kiss your poor cervix, and his heavy balls smack against your ass. 

It was starting to take a toll on your ability to speak in coherent sentences - as expected, of course. 

“Oh- ngh- Cho, s’too deep. Too- ah-” you blubber tearily, heels digging into his shoulders. And he only fucks you harder into the couch. Bouncing you so rough on his swollen cock. 

“Too deep?” Choso mutters, sounding genuinely surprised. As if to confirm for himself, he trails up a hand to feel for where he knew he was leaving loving little marks on your cervix. Pressing down. “How are ya- hah- how are ya gonna let me breed this cute cunt if even this is too deep, huh?”

You don’t have the ability to answer even if you wanted to - because Choso starts to toy with your still-sensitive clit. Sending flashes of white-hot pleasure with each roll of his ringed thumb over it. Tiny, incessant circles.

He coos over your lewd ah! ah! ah! “Awww. My baby can’t s-speak anymore?”. The curve of his dick fucking you so dumb, massaging your tight walls, hitting sweet spots you didn’t even know you had. “S’alright, jus’ let me hah- take care of it, okay? Jus’ let me paint this oh- heavenly pussy white.” Choso’s knees dig into the cushion as he angles his hips ever-so-slightly to hit that one-

“Fuck! Oh fuck- Cho–”

Found it.

“C’mon, baby.” Choso moans into the valley of your breasts, hips out of control now. Free hand coming up to squish your cheeks together, forcing you to peer into his dark gaze. “L-look at me. Fuck- look at the future father to your kids.”

All while his thick tip hit your g-spot over and over and- 

And oh how he loved how fucked-out you looked already. Capable of only giving him bleary, cockdrunk heart-eyes as he milks himself on your sloppy cunt. He couldn’t think straight - doesn’t think he’s been able to since five hours ago. 

Since he’s been wrecked with thoughts of how he’d do their hair and you’d pick them up from school. And how Yuji would be the best uncle and- Fuck, how he wanted those five kids with you - maybe even more- 

“More?” you gasp. And Choso lets out a guttural groan when you clench so sinfully around him in surprise. Fucking you so filthy, “M-more kids?”

Choso only drawls out a low, “Mhmmmm.” Pinching your clit faster between two fingers to shut up those cute whines because shit- he could cum from just how tight you were squeezing him. But refuses to before the mother of his kids. “Ya don’ ngh- wan’ me to? Don’ want me to fuck a baby into you?” 

You’re crying out harder when he speeds up. Rocking your sloppy cunt so harshly, making sure your poor pussy will remember him for a long, long time. Just trying - needing - to make himself cum. To fill you up with his seed till you can’t take it anymore. “I- ngh- do!”

And it takes everything in Choso to pull away from your ravaged tits, connecting his sweaty forehead with yours. Whispering, “How many?”

“As- fuck-”

“Mhm?”

“As many as you want- hngh-”

That’s all it takes for Choso’s body to bow, teeth digging in right above that rapid pulse on your neck so hard you wondered whether it drew blood. Hips stuttering, giving your sensitive spot one last, harsh kiss.

This time, when you cum you see white flashes behind your eyes - or maybe that was just Choso. Because the sight of you falling apart on his dick was all it takes for him to as well. Hard. Almost painfully so. 

Eyeliner running down his cheeks now with each thick, hot rope of seed he was filling your snug cunt up with. Those cushions below the two of you the last thing on his mind right now as he holds your trembling hips still, fucking his cum deeper and deeper.

The hand on your stomach pushes down, watching awe-struck at how your bloated cunt just coats him in cum. Dribbling down the side of your puffy folds, forming a creamy ring at his base.

“Oh!“ your jaw falls slack at how animalistic it felt. At how slutty your overfilled pussy felt, drooling all down your legs - and his. Onto Choso’s painfully squeezing balls as he fucks you like an animal. Again. And again and-

Again. He was speeding his hips up again. 

Then it’s like something snaps - Choso’s restraint, your sanity, and the couch. Fuck, his hips were so harsh that the couch was sagging entirely too much on your end.

This time, wrangling your legs around Choso’s waist, lifting your limp body up into Choso’s arms before you can react - squirming at the way he still doesn’t bother to pull out. Letting your cum gush all the way down his still-hard dick. 

Hands spreading your puffy folds apart, making such a mess of cum down below as he drags himself across your walls. Like he was marking you from the inside out - and he was.

“Didn’t think we were ngh- done, did you?” Choso’s lips graze your swollen ones. “After all, I did promise five.” Softly pooling a stray tear onto his tongue, piercing burning into your heated skin. “N’ we gotta practice for that, too, right?”

---

“The photo albums, really? Honestly, dad, you might as well have just gone and just outright told them.”

The older man only waves a hand dismissively, turning back to his favorite late-night show, “I’m not getting any younger here. N’ I’d like to see some grandkids before I see the pearly gates.”

Jin only sighs, but doesn’t disagree - after all, he couldn’t deny his father what he himself has been dreaming about ever since Choso finally plucked up the courage to actually ask you out. Yet he persists, “But honestly, Sukuna - you were teasing him a bit too much.”

Sukuna grunts, “Teasing? What teasing?” Crossing two big arms across his chest, “From the way they ran outta here, I suspect he should be thanking me.”

“Well, the true MVP - as the kids say - is this one-” Grandpa Itadori points at a rather oblivious Yuji. ‘Real nice improv to the plan, kid.“

Who only shakes his head before looking around the room for any answers, “Huh, wait. What plan? Did I miss some plan?”

“Ahem- no. Nothing.” Jin coughs, swiftly moving along the conversation above Yuji’s confused protests about what secret plan there was and why. “But, really, it should be that fortune teller you hired, Sukuna. Bit over-the-top honestly, but Choso was telling me all about her and you must’ve gotten a real convincing actress.”

Rolling his eyes, “Huh, I didn’t hire her, I thought that was the ol’ man’s work?”

“Now why would I go looking for actresses, my wife would just haunt me from the grave.”

The silence that follows is a heavy one as it slowly dawns upon everyone in the room - except for a still-floundering Yuji - that this was in no way a creative improvisation to the aforementioned plan. Not at all, really.

Oh. 

Wow. Five…really?!

“GUYS WHAT WAS THE PLAN?”

A/N. This got wayyyyyy longer than I expected lmao.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[ryukatters]

swipe right — k. bakugo x fem! reader

✮ a/n: i remember seeing a post on here a long time ago about a character making a fake tinder profile for their gf and realizing how many people want her. (if someone knows the OG post please lmk so i can link it!) so now i present to you: bakugo falling to his knees in the middle of your apartment bedroom for the exact same reason.

✮ content/warnings: dubcon, quirkless/college! au, jealousy, possessiveness, breeding, creampie, unprotected sex, cum eating, cunnilingus, overstimulation, praise, biting, bkg gets a little rough with you, and bkg's also a fucking simp but when do I ever write him as being otherwise??

✮ summary: your boyfriend decides to make a fake tinder profile for you just to see how many matches you get. he comes to a realization just how many other people want what’s already his.

✮ word count: 4.2k (i'm so sick)

Bakugo can remember how this all started. In very vivid detail, actually. He remembers because Kaminari had pissed him off so much to the extent that it took him a very substantial amount of effort to refrain from bashing his friend’s face in.

It all started during the last monthly hangout amongst Bakugo and his friends— one day out of the month designated to make sure that they all had time to catch up with one another despite their busy schedules.

Everything was normal, with all of them getting more than enough of their fill of food and alcohol while idly playing video games and talking about random topics to fill in the silence in Kaminari’s living room. 

Perfectly normal, until Denki decided to open his stupid mouth, at least. 

He goes off on a tangent about a trend he saw on social media where someone makes a fake Tinder profile for their partner to see how many matches they’d get. He proceeds to tell Bakugo that he should try doing it, for “funsies,”— to which Bakugo scoffs at. 

“Aren’t you curious, Kacchan?” Kaminari smiles cheekily, wrapping an arm around his blond friend’s shoulders, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Bakugo’s becoming visibly more upset with every passing moment. 

“Your girlfriend is really pretty,” Mina chimes in, sticking her tongue out when Katsuki whips his head to glare at her. “I’m still surprised she’s with a grump like you.” 

Kaminari butts in, “I bet there’s a whole line of guys around the block just waiting for a chance to get with her. I mean, just look at her! Hell, I’d even let her peg m—”

For a moment, Bakugo swears he wants to bash Kaminari’s face into his flatscreen. And for a moment, he lets that impulsive thought win— getting up and grabbing two fistfuls of Denki’s shirt before promptly getting cut off by Kirishima.

“Alright alright,” Kirishima forcibly pries Bakugo off of the other blond, pushing him off to the side. “That’s enough, you two. Kaminari was just messing around. I’ll admit, it wasn’t a good joke, but no need to hurt the guy, okay Bakugo?” 

Kirishima knows that Kaminari wasn’t being that serious, but Kirishima can also admit that what he had to say held some ounce of truth. And Kirishima knows Bakugo well enough to see how your boyfriend tends to be rather skittish and protective with matters concerning you— which is exactly why Eijiro had to stop him before it was too late. He really didn’t feel like preparing for Denki’s funeral or helping hide Katsuki escape from a homicide charge.

And that was that…up until a few minutes ago.

Katsuki’s tried to forget that conversation. But try as he might, his mind betrays him and can’t help but wander back to what Denki said that night.

He trusts you of course, and has complete faith in your relationship. However, he’s curious to a fault, just about perhaps too curious for his own good. 

How badly could this end?

As it turns out, this whole scheme seems to be playing out very poorly. 

Dozens of photos of you— screenshotted from your social media accounts— fill Katsuki’s screen. He had to choose photos you uploaded yourself, because most of his photos of you were either too…suggestive or too domestic (and he wants to be the only one to see you in those moments).

He swipes through “your” profile one last time before clicking “done” to officially put you on the market. And just like that, Bakugo’s met with the faces of men who are nowhere near your level. He goes through the batch of profiles, scrutinizing each one he comes across. He’s (un)surprisingly selective with the ones he chooses to swipe right on— making sure that they’re at least somewhat conventionally attractive. To his surprise (or dread, rather), his phone pings right away with a notification from someone who swiped back. Another ping. A message. 

You free tonight? 

Bakugo scoffs. He looks through the guy’s profile— a picture of him at a party with his arms around some girls, another with him doing a victory pose presumably after hiking, and one with him holding a fish. He feels his mouth curl in disgust, about to give into the urge to reply and give this guy a piece of his mind, before he realizes he’s pretending to be you. He takes a deep breath, closes out of the app, and puts down his phone. 

He’s starting to regret this.

Bakugo’s phone has gone off 15 times in the last hour. Bakugo has also felt the need to strangle some stranger through the phone 15 times in the last hour. Your (read: his) profile has existed for less than 60 minutes, and you already have a whole address book of nobodies trying to link with you and get a quick fuck. 

He feels the familiar beginnings of a headache creeping up the back of his skull. He thinks he might need a drink. Why did he decide to do this again?

In hindsight, he probably should have known this is exactly how it was going to go down. 

What was that saying? Curiosity killed the cat?

Yeah.

He was never great at self-preservation in the first place. So this, the feeling of overwhelming jealousy, frustration, possessiveness brewing up a storm threatening to pour out of every single fiber of Bakugo’s being— was no surprise.

He watches as the numbers at the bottom of his screen increase steadily, before tapping on the star icon. 

‘99+ likes!’ it reads. Over 99 people who saw your profile and thought you were beautiful. Bakugo pales, and he can feel the cold sweat building on the nape of his neck. He grips his phone, knuckles turning white. Is he shaking from anger or nervousness?

Anger because all these guys think they even have the slightest chance with someone as amazing as you. Nervousness because what if you decide that they do? You wouldn’t actually leave him for one of these guys, right? Right?

None of these men would walk through hell and back for you. They don’t know how you like your coffee, the details of your skin care routine, how you like to binge watch shows and talk Katsuki’s ear off about them (not that he ever minded, of course). They don’t know you, not like he does. Katsuki looks at you like you hung the moon. In fact, he’s pretty convinced that you did. Everything good in his life— the warmth, the color, the joy,— is encompassed by you. He’d be damned if he lets some greasy little nobody take that from him. Because the moment Bakugo fell in love with you, you became a part of him— inextricably and indefinitely. Loving you has become so intrinsic to him, that even the mere thought of another person loving you or looking at you the same way he does has him going insane. Not that anyone could love you like he did, though. That thought brings him some comfort, but not for long. 

One last notification he sees sends him spiraling. Bakugo swears that he can see red. That’s when he deletes the app, and throws his poor phone in some random corner of the living room, which is markedly one of the smarter choices he’s made as of late. He marches to your bedroom with a fire burning in his chest. 

He stops short of the door and finds you sitting at the edge of your shared bed, fresh out of the shower. You’re applying lotion, and he watches the cream absorb into your skin wordlessly, in awe at how overwhelmingly beautiful you manage to look in the most prosaic of tasks. For a second, he almost forgets the reason he was upset in the first place.  

Your hair is still damp, water droplets accumulating at the tips, and Katsuki feels his mouth run dry the minute he watches a stray bead fall and make its way down your neck and stop perfectly in the dip of your collarbone. Your very existence is forever etched into his heart, every inch of you carved into his memory, but even still he can never get tired of looking at you. At every angle, in every lighting, he needs to see you in it. You could call him obsessed, but he’d simply laugh and agree, because what’s so wrong with that? Especially if it’s you. 

You’re one to be studied— to be adored, Katsuki thinks, to the greatest capacity. It’s what you deserve. And what better person for that task to fall upon than him?

He finds himself naturally gravitating towards you, his finger tracing the same exact path the water had carved just moments before, wordlessly. You try to pay no mind, but it’s difficult as you realize just how close Bakugo was and how your towel barely manages to cover up your most intimate parts. One wrong move and you’d be exposed. With how things were playing out, and the predatory glint in the blond’s eyes, you don’t think your boyfriend would be too perturbed with your current predicament. 

Katsuki presses a delicate kiss to your forehead before he crouches down. Suddenly, you’re at eye level with one another, his hot breath tickling your lips. You think for a moment he’s going to kiss you so you lean forward, lips waiting. But he merely grazes them before he sucks a deep bruise into the juncture of your neck, biting slightly. 

You’re barely given any time to react before he’s grabbing the hand that’s securing your towel and ripping it away, the offending garment falling off your body. Your flesh prickles with goosebumps as its exposed to the sudden chill.  It’s quickly replaced by the heat of Bakugo’s body as he pushes you lightly, your back hitting the mattress. He crawls on top of you, muscular thighs on either side of your hips, your head placed conveniently between his forearms. He’s trapped you, a nonverbal challenge for you to try and escape. 

You’re a work of art, he thinks, but much more valuable than any pièce de résistance framed in any museum. 

Beautiful, yes, but far too blank for his liking. He wants to ruin you, make you his own personal magnum opus. And so he does. 

He presses a clothed knee against your bare cunt, pressing firmly. His lips continue their assault on your neck, leaving angry purpling bruises in their wake. Rough hands find your breast, and you moan in surprise when he gives both of them a harsh squeeze as he shoves his tongue into your mouth. Katsuki kisses you like a man dying of thirst, hungry for everything you can offer him and more. It’s all too much already, the way he’s kissing you has your mind reeling, and you have to turn your head away for a moment to catch your breath. Katsuki thinks it’s a moment too long without you, so he coaxes you into locking lips with him once more. A wave of mischievousness washes over you, prompting you to take your boyfriend’s lower lip in between your teeth, biting down lightly. 

You feel his breath hitch, before he lets out a low groan as he grinds his clothed dick against your bare wetness. He returns the favor, sucking on your bottom lip before letting it go with a wet pop. He pulls back with a lazy smirk, his lips pursing together to scatter messy kisses down the base of your throat and down your chest, alternating between sucking and biting at the flesh. 

He gives you a good once-over, scanning every surface, committing them to memory. You feel the need to curl into yourself with how intensely those vermillion eyes are piercing into you, memorizing every single curve, scar, freckle like he’s done time and time again. 

He drops down to his knees, broad shoulders bullying their way in between your legs, forcibly prying them open. He grips your hips, fingertips digging into the soft flesh, and drags you down the mattress until your legs are dangling off the bed.

“Jesus, Kats, be more gentle.”

“Shhh. I know you like it when I’m not gentle,” he chuckles. As if to prove a point, he pulls you down even further, giving a harsh bite to your inner thigh. He smiles deviously when you yelp. You try to pull at his hair but his reflexes are too quick, pinning both of your wrists down on either side of you easily. “Besides, this is the perfect height for me to eat you out, dontcha think baby?” 

You want to chastise him for being so crass, so Katsuki, but the words die on the tip of your tongue the minute he gives a sweet, loving kiss to your clit, sucking lightly. 

“You’re mine. I don’t want anyone else seeing you like this except for me.” 

You’re not entirely sure what brought this on, but you find it hard to complain when Bakugo drags his tongue from your throbbing clit to inside your pussy, drinking everything you have to offer. 

Your hands automatically try to find purchase in his blond locks, struggling against the vice grip Katsuki has on your wrists. He decides to take pity on you, loosening his hold so you can slip your hands into his hair, moaning appreciatively when he feels you tug. He rewards you by flicking his tongue on your clit over and over again, just the way you like it. He does it until your moans begin to pitch higher and higher, the same way that they do when you’re close. He doesn’t stop his ministrations even after you cum, riding out your orgasm until your thighs are shaking from overstimulation. He pulls away from you with a loud pop, taking in the sight before him. 

He runs a hand up and down your thigh soothingly. “So fucked out already and we’re barely getting started, baby.”

Your mind is barely processing his words before you feel Katsuki’s erection brush against your stomach, his clothing haphazardly discarded on the floor. He taps the head of his dick against your clit to tease you, a feeling of satisfaction swelling when you cry out from under him.  

He watches in fascination as strings of your arousal cling to him. He positions his length at your entrance, locking eyes with you as you hold your breath in anticipation. Katsuki likes you like this. Needy for him. 

 “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world, you know that?” He slips into you with a stuttered groan. 

Katsuki’s always been big. You never get used to the initial stretch, no matter how many times you two fuck. Still, that doesn’t stop him from sliding in with ease from the slick of your last orgasm. It easily coats his cock as he gives a few experimental thrusts. He groans in rapture. How do you manage to feel so good every time? It’s enough to drive him insane. Perhaps he already is. 

“So fucking perfect, no wonder why all those losers want you.” He mutters out the last part, and you’re not sure if you caught that right. 

“What?” He chooses not to respond, and you aren’t given the opportunity to think any further before your legs are thrown over his shoulders, Katsuki’s weight effectively pinning you in place. The stretch knocks all the wind out of your lungs, and all you can do is cling to Katsuki, nails leaving red, angry lines on his well-defined back.

He wastes no time before he starts drilling into you, hips slotting in between your legs perfectly. The position has him pressed against your clit, and your entire body feels like it’s been set ablaze, with Katsuki holding both the power to have it burn even brighter and the ability to extinguish it. And you’re almost there, you can feel your soul slowly ascending, your room filled with hymns of pleasure, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter, threatening to unravel along with your sanity. Katsuki can feel it too— the way you’re squeezing him tighter, how your gasps and moans have climbed just a note higher, how absolutely ruined you look, how he’s responsible for your current state. Which is exactly why he wants to push it even further, he wants to see how much you’ll break for him— and only him. 

Katsuki cuts you off right before you can reach your peak, pulling out but making sure just his tip is inserted. You come to and take a look at your lover and marvel at the sight. He has a crazed look in his eyes. The way he smirks is absolutely wicked. 

You feel distraught— having been so close but having it ripped away from you. You give your boyfriend a petulant pout.

“Katsuki,” you whine, slapping a hand against his sweaty chest, “Why’d you stop? I was so close!”

“Because I didn’t want you to cum yet,” he says simply. “You’ll be good for me, yeah? I’ll give my baby what she deserves, as long as she’s good.” 

You roll your eyes, huffing. That won’t do for him.

As much as he loves seeing you indulge, he feels a need to punish you— at least a little bit to even begin to atone for being the wicked temptress you are. 

“Don’t be a fuckin’ brat,” Bakugo growls, gripping your face with one hand, squishing your cheeks, causing your lips to purse slightly. “I said be good, okay? Wanna take my time with you.” 

There’s a moment of respite, until you sigh in defeat, knowing better than to argue with him lest you wanted to dig your own grave. “‘Kay, ‘ki.”

He flashes you a smile. Obedient, just how he likes you. “Good girl.”

Katsuki draws his hips back, thrusting just enough to fuck his tip into you. He’s teasing. The amount of willpower on his end it takes not to cum is nauseating. 

“You’re so pretty, aren’t you?” he rasps, one hand finding their way around your neck, squeezing just enough to make your head spin. Your hands reflexively grab his wrist. 

All you can manage is a fucked out moan. Katsuki has to resist the urge to coo, about how he’s managed to turn you into a cockdrunk mess in such a short matter of time. The wave of possessiveness that’s been gnawing at the depths of his soul begins to seep out, and he’s reminded of the reason why the two of you are in this position in the first place. 

He gives your throat another squeeze and a rough slap to your clit. “C’mon princess, answer me. Say it.” He slowly adds more and more pressure until your ears grow hot and air feels like a precious commodity. 

“I-i’m pretty,” you manage to gasp out, tears spilling from your lash line as you begin to lose yourself between the space of pleasure and pain. 

Good. Always so pliant for him.

“That’s right, baby,” he concedes. “So fuckin’ beautiful.” He punctuates the last word with a deep thrust, right against that spongy spot that feels so good. You’re so sensitive that it’s enough to send you spiraling into your second orgasm, walls spasming around him uncontrollably. 

Katsuki stills, staving off his own release with all the restraint he can summon. He silently thanks whatever divine forces are out there that he didn’t cum the minute he felt the first clench of your orgasm. 

He grits his teeth as he wills himself to move, trying not to get lost in the wetness that envelops him. You’re babbling now, senseless moans filling Katsuki’s ears like a sweet melody. 

“Kats, please, I’m too sensitive—” You’re shaking now, muscles trembling with every thrust. 

“But I’m not done with you yet,” he says simply, drawing his hips back with a particularly rough thrust. You choke back whatever you were going to say with a loud cry. “What’s your color, baby?”

You take a moment to answer, brain trying to comprehend the words just uttered to you. You look at Katsuki firmly, “Green.”

“Atta girl,” he praises, the drive of his hips beginning to shallow. He’s close, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out. But for you, he tries. “You’re mine, right?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, shivering as goosebumps dance across your skin. 

“Say it,” Katsuki pleads, thrusts growing sloppy by the second. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m all yours, ‘ki.” 

With that, Katsuki’s fate is sealed. He’s left groaning as a flash of pleasure shakes his very soul, filling you up with so much cum that it dribbles onto the mattress even while he’s still inside you. You follow suit, an embarrassingly obscene rhythm of squelching noises fill the silence as you spasm around his dick. He collapses on top of you, but he’s still coherent enough to not dump all his weight on you. 

Your labored breaths fill the room as the two of you come to. Katsuki pulls out of you with a wince, still a bit sensitive. He gives you a peck on the lips before he drags himself down, settling in between your legs much like he was earlier. 

You tense up, “Kats, wait—”

Any and all protests cease the moment Bakugo works his tongue inside of you, slurping lewdly as he drags out the mixture of your cum and his, swallowing. He tries not to stimulate your puffy clit in an attempt to be merciful, but you still feel yourself steadily climbing to what would be your fourth orgasm this session. While the past three have been intense and drowning, this one comes to you in waves, dull pleasure invading your senses as Katsuki continues to eat you out to clean you up. 

He pulls away when you finish, your slick and his saliva coating his chin before he wipes it off on the back of his hand. You stare at his half-hard erection with a half concerned, half quizzical look. “Do you…” you lick your lips, “need help with that? I’m a little sensitive down there  but I could use my mout—”

“Nah, I’m good babe,” he says earnestly, flashing you a smile that he only ever shows around you. “I’ll be back.” With that, your boyfriend leaves the room only to come back with a bottle of water. 

“Drink.” You comply, finishing half the bottle graciously before handing it to him. He downs the rest before he settles next to you on the bed, laying on his side. You mirror him, shifting your body so that you’re both facing each other. 

Katsuki reaches out, finger idly tracing random shapes and lines onto the bare skin on your hip. He has a pensive look on his face, one that he usually doesn’t hold after stolen moments like this; it’s an expression he wears when he’s in deep thought. 

“Baby,” you call out. His eyes snap to yours, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah?”

“Whatcha thinking about?” You watch as a hesitant look flashes across your boyfriend’s face before he shakes his head.

“S’nothin’. Just thinkin’ about us two.” He speaks lightly. It’s always been difficult for him to voice his inner thoughts and feelings, so he tends to beat around the bush. You’ve learned that if you ever want something out of him, you’d have to pry a little. Katsuki always indulges you though. 

“What about us?”

“Do you- do you think you’ll ever get tired of this?” He repeats himself, clearing his throat. The question is followed by a weaker, “...of me?”

You think it’s the most ridiculous question he’s ever asked, because the answer should be obvious. “I’d never get tired of you, Katsuki. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” he replies automatically, “but if I ever do anything that upsets you, or if I get too much for you, or if I—” he’s rambling now. Yes, it’s difficult for Katsuki to talk about his feelings, but once you manage to get him to open up, all the walls of his self-made fortress come crashing down and it’s up to you to pick up the pieces. 

“Baby,” you giggle, pressing a kiss to his lips, cupping his sharp jaw with one hand. “Look at me.” And he does— ruby eyes meeting yours. “I love you because you’re you. And I choose to be with you everyday. It’s not always gonna be perfect, no relationship is. But I know that I will always wake up and choose you.” 

You can see the anxiety melt away from Katsuki’s body, shoulders slumping as he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Love you too, sap,” is all he says before he’s pulling you against his chest, squeezing you into a bearhug. You two stay that way until both of you are lulled to sleep. 

You’re laying in bed with Katsuki, both of you dozing off when you hear a slight buzz from your phone on the nightstand. You squint as you try to read the notification, and make out that it’s from your friend.

Denki Kaminari: So did it work?

You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing, giving a quick glance over your shoulder to check on your boyfriend— fast asleep. You turn back to your phone, your thumbs making quick work at your keyboard. 

You: Just like I said it would. Thanks Denki :)

Writing belongs to @ryukatters. Please do not share my work on Tiktok.

[lay-z]

🕊 Day 10 – Santa Soap and his most dangerous mission

A continuation to 🌨 Day 2 – Quaint, which means it’s set in the same universe!

Synopsis: At the annual Christmas party on base, you’re torn between making a quick escape and holding out to get a glimpse of someone special.

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x fem!Reader

Warnings/Info: No smut. | military!Reader; cussing; nicotine addiction; friendship; mutual pining; medical inaccuracies; humour; fluff; friends/teammates to lovers

Word count: 2.5k

↳ back to 🎅🏼 Masterlist ☃️

You’ve made the internal decision that you’ll clock the next bloody bastard who dares to approach you only to comment on your appearance tonight. The fact that you’re wearing a dress and heels and some makeup for a rare change, has definitely gained too much attention from the wrong crowd. 

Standing in a corner of the adapted and decorated event location, close to the ceiling-to-floor windows that lead to the equally decorated large balcony, you pick at the sleeve of your dress with one hand while holding an empty wine glass in the other, feeling yourself getting terribly antsy as the night progresses. 

Hell, it has already slipped your mind at this point in the evening, why you even decided to get all dolled up. You hate the attention from male soldiers here on base, especially superiors who might take it the wrong way, though you could care less about the rookies. You stand above their opinions and the rumours about you. 

You’re at a point where you’d kill for a ciggy right about now, but you’re trying to quit the dirty habit to start the New Year a better person than last. So, cold turkey, because you’re that determined and petty to quit after both Gaz and Soap taunted you about never being able to do it. On top of that, more alcohol is also not an option, because it would only worsen the need for a beloved cancer stick. 

Glancing at the watch on the wall, you see that it’s been barely an hour since you showed up here, and you’re already mentally debating if it’s appropriate to make an early escape back to your quarters. Perhaps you can dodge Captain Price on your way out, the man who’d secretly ordered you to socialize and mingle.  

However, in the back of your mind, there’s also that nagging voice that keeps making your stomach twist and knot with questionable words and thoughts, and desires, about your Lieutenant. 

You haven’t seen him yet… and most importantly, he hasn’t seen you!  

No, you didn’t dress up for Ghost, of course not. That would be so silly and frankly, also pathetic. 

“Oh, look at ye!” 

Once Soap’s voice reaches your ears over the noise of the surrounding crowd, you fear your eyes might roll back so far into your skull that they might get stuck this time.

You cross your arms over your chest awkwardly, still holding the empty wine glass, “Will you leave me alone already? No, I don’t wanna kiss under your fucking mistletoe and I’m not gonna call you ‘Santa Soap’, either.” 

Gaz practically spawns next to Soap, wearing a matching Santa hat like the goofy Scotsman, a drink in his hand, pearly whites gleaming in the dim light as he grins mischievously, “Now, why would you be such a grump on this fine evening, Sergeant? Our Santa here’s simply trying his best to spread the Christmas spirit.” 

Meanwhile, Soap nods enthusiastically while fetching another mistletoe from the inside pocket of his dark grey lumber jacket, just like the one you’d previously thrown away when he tried to make you kiss him earlier. 

“Did you seriously bring more than one?” 

Soap nods innocently, bright blue eyes shining with mirth and liquor, “Aye, ‘course. Cannae show up unprepared, my wee she-elf.” 

Gaz snorts, “Always pack enough ammo.” He nods approvingly and takes a sip of his drink. 

You roll your eyes again, “Ugh, shut up you two.” 

“Aw, are we a bit narky, eh? Need a ciggy that bad already, lassie?” Soap coos tauntingly, grinning boyishly when you scoff and turn your back to them dismissively, a clear pout on your red-painted lips. 

“I think she’s just vexed, because our Lt. didn’t show up yet.” Gaz mumbles into his glass, peeking over the rim as he gauges your reaction. 

That makes your breath falter momentarily, because have you been that obvious lately? 

After you spent that night on guard duty with Ghost a few weeks ago, you felt like you’d made progress with him. He’d opened up a bit about his childhood and past, though he always kept things sort of vague, and in return, you were soaking up each tiny bit of intel you could gather about him, eager to solve the puzzle – or get a glance of the display picture of the puzzles' carton, at least. 

The mystery about him didn’t stop your rapidly cementing crush on him, either. And it’s an odd feeling, falling in love, after so many years of successfully throwing yourself into your career instead of focusing on a possible romantic relationship. 

Who knew you’d find the latter at your bloody job of all places. 

You look down into your wine glass, swirling the last ruby droplet around as you bite your tongue, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. Here you are, thinking you were being sneaky with your growing – and much forbidden – infatuation with your superior.  

Soap nudges Gaz’ side while you’re not looking, shaking his head at his friend and teammate with his thick brows furrowed chidingly, making Gaz shrug in return, his expression apologetic before he lifts his drink up to his lips again. 

“Think I saw him head out on the balcony, lassie,” Soap remarks, his voice surprisingly serious and soft for a change, “If ye’re stealthy enough ye might catch him.” 

“We both know that’d be impossible, Johnny,” you retort languidly as you lift up the wine glass to slurp up the tiny droplet, “No one can sneak up on Simon. Plus, he’s not here, so stop lying.” 

“Simon?!” The men bark in unison, eyebrows shooting up as if you’d just insulted their mothers. 

“Oooh, since when are you two on first name basis?” Gaz inquires curiously, his warm brown eyes getting that familiar spark whenever he smells potential new gossip – gossip you won’t provide this time. 

“We’re not,” you lie, smacking your lips as you crave another drink – and a cigarette along with it, “– and if we were, I wouldn’t tell you, Garrick.” 

Soap snickers, stepping around you and giving your shoulders a few squeezes. He rubs them obnoxiously until you shrug him off with an annoyed click of your tongue and a glare over your shoulder. 

“Could you stop? You’re so annoying.” 

Gaz laughs as he watches you and Soap act like cat and dog, his eyebrow quirking with a knowing smile when Soap pries the wine glass out of your hand next, giving your back a soft shove towards the balcony doors.  

“Yeah, yeah, and I’ll keep bein’ annoyin’, so ye better take a breather now, sweetheart.” 

“Muppets,” you mutter under your breath, getting more agitated by their behaviour, “Both of you!” 

Gaz lifts his hands in surrender, chuckling as he takes a side step to let you walk past while you keep mumbling to yourself under your breath. 

“Risky,” Gaz remarks, flashing a grin at Soap once you’re out of ear shot, “This might be your best work so far… or a guaranteed arse kicking, MacTavish. You don’t think she’ll notice?” 

“Nah,” Soap sighs dreamily, looking in the direction you left in before he perks up again, “Let’s get another drink, eh?” 

As you step outside onto the balcony, you take a swift glance around before you immediately regret not bringing your jacket as the icy winds swirl about. 

Hugging your arms around yourself, you take a few sauntering steps farther out on the spacious balcony, admiring the fairy lights wrapped around the long railing and the clear night sky as you tip your head back to look at  the moon and stars. 

It’s still a wonder to you, how unique the sky looks in different countries; have you spent some of your time on deployments simply stargazing whenever you found yourself on guard duty and whenever you felt safe enough to do so. 

And suddenly, as the noises from inside, all the chatter and boisterous laughter and music, are simply muffled into the background, you feel utterly lonely and… strangely defeated. 

“What the hell am I even doing here?” You groan quietly and sigh deeply, warm breath puffing and fogging up in the cold. 

“That’s what ‘m askin’ myself.” 

Nearly jumping out of your skin with a gasp, you almost turn your ankle in your pumps as you flinch away from the dark corner to your right.  

You can only see the flickering flame of a lighter first, followd by the amber glow of a cigarette tip, blue smoke curling in the darkness and evaporating into nothingness, before the behemoth of a man steps out of the shadows towards you, like the grim reaper himself, living up to his name as Ghost. 

“Fucking hell, Simon,” you chide, still breathing heavily as you clutch your rapidly beating heart, though now it’s beating for a whole different reason, “You need to stop scaring people like that!” 

“Not my problem you’re jumpy like a little bunny.” He retorts gruffly, though you can clearly hear the smile in his voice before you can see it. 

His simple, black balaclava is rucked up over his nose again as he takes another lazy drag of his cigarette while his dark eyes give you an agonizingly slow once over, one that has your heart flutter and your cheeks burn. He keeps the smoke in his lungs as he speaks, “You look nice. Different.” He exhales.

Needless to say, you don’t clock him for that. 

“Different,” you repeat under your breath as you look at him; drinking in the exposed, pale skin of his neck, his cheeks, his mouth, as always. You notice that he shaved. He’s wearing a pair of jeans that clings to his muscular thighs nicely, a dark hoodie and black leather jacket along with boots. 

He looks nice. Hot, actually. God... he’s so hot... 

“Aye, different as in nice. Want me to tell ya that you’re beautiful?” He asks bluntly, taking another drag, “Would feel wrong to tell ya that now, lass. You were already beautiful without all –“ He makes a vague gesture to your face and dress, “– ‘o that.” 

“Okay, thanks.” You squeak; your throat now terribly dry. There is nothing you would love more than snatch the cigarette from his thick fingers to take a greedy drag and calm your jangled nerves. 

“Mhmm,” he hums, then and doesn’t stop staring; his onyx eyes flickering over your form as if he’s assessing you. 

“Why are you out here anyway?” He makes another gesture at your outfit, “Dressed like that. It’s too cold, ya dafty.” 

You could ask him the same, but you feel like you know the answer to that. He hates crowds and avoids social gatherings if he can help it, but Price has ordered him to attend just like he did you. 

“I just... needed some air,” you shrug and Ghost nods as he fetches a pack of smokes from his chest pocket, flicking the lid open with his thumb before holding it out to you. 

Your fingers twitch against your arms, nails clawing into the fabric of your dress while your nostrils flare as you get a whiff of sweet, sweet tobacco. But then, the nagging voices of Gaz and Soap echo in your mind, and if they would catch you smoking out here, you’d never hear the end of it – and frankly, that’s not worth your nerves. 

“Can’t,” you croak out, refusing reluctantly. Your eyes flit from his offer up to his eyes while he raises an eyebrow under his mask questioningly, “I quit.” 

Ghost snorts, flicking the lid closed again, “Why?” The small pack disappears back into his pocket. 

“Someone told me it’s unhealthy,” you jest with a small shrug, hugging your arms tighter around yourself as the cold starts seeping into your bones. 

“Hmpf,” he hums again and pauses before he takes another slow drag, “What an arsehole.” He exhales through his nose, smoke curling into the air as he smiles bemusedly. 

And then, there is a tense pause as you watch how the golden glow of the surrounding fairy lights reflect in his dark brown eyes, adding a sudden soft warmth to his lingering gaze. 

“Can you blow some smoke in my face?” You ask, biting your inner cheek before adding, “I read that’s what pregnant ladies do when they struggle to quit smoking at once.” 

“Bollocks.” He barks out a laugh, flashing his slightly crooked teeth you’ve come to adore so much. Teeth who’ve been broken violently and been fixed too many times. 

“It’s true!” You whine playfully, chuckling along with him, and then he gives you an odd look, his lips tighten into a line before he speaks, “Close yer eyes.” 

Your stomach does a flip at his soft-spoken command, your heart flutters violently as he takes a step closer, taking a long drag. And then, you do as he says and close your eyes, tilting your head back expectantly. 

A few seconds later, the warm caress of his breath and thick cigarette smoke brush over your cold skin, making your skin pebble underneath your dress. You inhale greedily, lips parting slightly as you try to catch the taste of it discreetly. 

“More?” He rasps and you nod slowly, keeping your eyes closed, “Yes, please.” You utter softly. 

Another few seconds later, you hear the crunch of boots on concrete, and then you suddenly feel the tentative press of chapped lips on yours. 

Your eyes squeeze together, and you nearly pull back in shock, but his hand is already cupping the back of your head gently, his other warm mammoth hand resting on your waist; his body heat seeping through your dress as he closes the distance between your bodies. The fabric of his balaclava brushes against your face as your noses nudge together before makes you tilt your head. 

He kisses you slowly, somewhat clumsily, as if he’s calculating and overthinking each move of his lips, but by God, it’s good. So good, and so much better than you always imagined, because it’s real.  

Your hands slip to the front of his broad, buff chest, fingers clutching his open leather jacket and holding on for dear life as your brain starts to shut off. The tip of his tongue brushes against the seam of your mouth and your lips part wider on instinct. His tongue dives in, seeking and rolling against yours almost timidly, and you can taste the nicotine, the whiskey, and the remnant minty taste of his toothpaste. 

When a soft moan is torn from your throat, his hand squeezes your hip and his fingers brush through your hair before he grips the nape of your neck, holding you in place when he pulls back, breaking the first kiss you shared.

Your breaths mingle, hot and panting, as you gaze at each other with half-lidded eyes. His heart is thudding harshly against his chest, feeling it clearly beneath your palm, though it matches your own rapid heartbeat. 

“...’m sorry, bunny,” Ghost says eventually, his voice rough and husky, his lips still brushing yours as he speaks, “I just... couldn’t keep ignoring that bloody mistletoe.” 

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 41 all chapters

WARNINGS FOR THIS FIC: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, VIOLENCE, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

41. reprieve

John is inscrutable as a rock, up until the moment you return to your room, and the door shuts behind you. You don’t get a moment to process what just happened in private, because he grabs you up in those strong arms and devours you. His relief is palpable–you feel it in his kisses, in the tremor that runs through his powerful frame, and the desperation with which he holds on to you. 

“That was—so fucking–sexy,” he tells you between pressing his mouth to yours. 

You cling to him, trying to think back. It all happened so fast. You realize a part of you has been wondering this whole time if your quick actions had in fact been a fuck up–there are rules upon rules and nuances upon nuances governing this strange and forbidden world–you are but a baby here. A mere cell. A gob of primordial ooze–and you have learned to fear a great deal that which you do not know. 

“I didn’t–get us–into more trouble?” you ask, stunted by voracious kisses and his big hands squeezing the breath from you. 

“No more than I did,” he assures you with his forehead pressed to yours. “I think…” He laughs, a rare and ragged sound, after your ordeal, “That we really are free to go.” 

“Is that what Winston said?” The hotelier and your intended had exchanged hushed and private words together on the roof, while you looked out over Manhattan, you hoped, for the last time for a while to come. 

It isn’t that you don’t trust John. But you have come to understand that Winston was right, when he said the subtler machinations of this shadowed world sometimes escape the blunt instrument that is your beloved John Wick.

“Yeah.”

You hug him then, holding him to you, your nose buried in the warmth of his hair behind his ear. You don’t want to, or mean to, but the magnitude of it all comes crashing down, and you begin to cry. Quietly, not for attention or even comfort, but because you just can’t hold it in anymore. You are so stealthy that some men might have ignored it, pretended it never happened, but not John. He is attuned to your every tell, and he kisses your cheek and holds you, knowing exactly what you need. 

After your tremors have subsided he sweeps back your hair to kiss your forehead, his soft lips such a soothing balm. “Do you want to stay one more night, just for fun?” he asks, and you offer a watery smile in return. The opulence of this place has been like a trip to faeryland for you, or an extended stay down the rabbit hole. Glittery and exotic and goddamn if you haven’t had your fill of it, maybe for a lifetime. 

“Honestly? I just want to go home.” 

He nods, understanding all too well. “Ok. Let’s pack up.” 

“Thank you.” You kiss him, a lingering taste, which leads to another, and then his hands are under your shirt, finding the warm hollow of your spine, and then lower, and he is walking you backwards until his weight is pressing you down into the cloud of a mattress, and you are all too willing to let this man have his way with you, to give him shelter in your body, in your arms. Maybe to everyone outside these walls he is A Killer, The Baba Yaga, The Boogeyman, a tool, a legend, a nightmare, a vengeful ghost…but to you, he will always be the man who loved you beyond reason, or measure.

And you, him. 

It takes you a while, to finally get to putting things in bags, but when you are finally settled into the passenger seat of the Rover with Dog in the back and John at the wheel, it is with the warm glow of a woman who is pleasantly surprised she is getting everything in life she’s ever really wanted.  

[newtthetranswriter]

Hello so uhm.... 0w0

Could I ask for a Aziraphale x reader / crowley x reader (seperated when possible) where the reader is sick and they both hug them and wrap their wings around them?

I'm just thinking their feathers would be so soft >~<

Have a nice day/evening!

Word count: Crowley’s Part 1187 / Aziraphale’s part 1579

A/n: this was nice to write. I hope it lives up to expectations. Enjoy and have a great day/ evening as well.

Crowley

    It was just a normal Tuesday, well as normal as it can get when going to work at Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death, while feeling like someone hit me with a car. My head was pounding and it felt like my small breakfast of plain toast was trying to come back up. I would have called in, but I know Nina would need the help as we were the only to set to work today. I also didn’t tell a certain snake eyed demon about being sick because I know he would have made me stay home. 

    All of this leads us to where we are right now. I’m currently taking orders while Nina works on making the coffees and teas that are requested. It’s about two in the afternoon which means it’s time for our afternoon rush of people trying to get an extra boost of energy before they end their day. Trying to keep a smile on my face as my migraine gets worse from the loud customers, and the normally enticing smell of coffee which is currently making me more nauseous, is like hell on earth. 

    I was in the middle of explaining to an older lady that decaf does not in fact contain caffeine, when I noticed a familiar pair leaving the bookshop across the street. Trying to end this conversation quickly so my friends wouldn’t have to wait too long, I offered the lady a solution. “If you are nervous about the decaf having any caffeine I can recommend a warm cup of peppermint tea. It’s relaxing and contains no caffeine at all.” I said hoping to end this back and forth. Luckily she agreed right as the demon and angel pair walked in.

    Offering the two a kind wave and forced smile, I entered the lady’s order and proceeded to enter the pairs usual order before they even reached the counter. Normally I would let them place their order like everyone else but today I didn’t want Crowley near me for too long knowing he would quickly realize I was unwell. “Hello Love, Aziraphale. I already entered your order so you can go take a seat, it’s on the house today.” I said trying to avoid conversation with the pair.

    Aziraphale just nodded in thanks before going to find a seat. While Crowley on the other hand only stepped to the side so I could continue to assist customers, while he processed my strange behavior. “You never comp our order. Something about it being bad for business. What’s going on with you?” He asked, and even though he wore such dark glasses I could tell he was squinting at me trying to figure me out.

    “Nothing is going on. Can’t I be nice to my boyfriend and friend every once in a while.” I responded mindlessly, entering orders trying to avoid my demon’s scrutiny. “I have to help these customers, Crowley go sit down with Zira and Nina will bring it out when it’s done.” I heard a slight scoff before he walked away.

    I knew he figured something out but I also knew that he wouldn’t risk making a scene at my job just because he thinks I’m hiding something. Knowing Crowley he would keep quiet about it until I was off work and that’s exactly what he did.

    After another four hours of helping customers and cleaning the shop I was finally able to go home and relax. It was a bonus that Nina had figured out that I wasn’t feeling well and told me to take the next day off to get better. So ready for an extra day to recover from this stupid migraine, I left the coffee shop and headed over to A.Z. Fell and Co. to retrieve my grump of a boyfriend knowing he tended to hangout there until I was off work so he could drive me home.

    “Hey Aziraphale, Have you seen Crowley? I just got off work and thought he’d be here like normal.” I asked the angel, who was currently reading a book at his desk, upon noticing the demon was nowhere to be seen.

     Aziraphale jumped in his seat not having heard me come in. “Oh Y/n, yes Crowley went to the pharmacy around the corner, something about picking up medicine.” He said turning slightly to look at me before turning back to his book. “Though I’m not sure what medicine he would need, it’s not like he can get sick or anything.” He continued obviously oblivious to why a demon such as Crowley would need human medicine.

     I just rolled my eyes and took a seat in an armchair. “You don’t mind if I wait for him here do you?” I asked, relaxing for the first time all day, not registering the angel's response as I fell asleep in the chair.

     “They’re sleeping Crowley, don’t wake them up. They have obviously had a long day.” I heard my angel friend address my Boyfriend. It was obvious he was trying to keep quiet but was failing as began to slowly awaken from my nap.

     I heard a groan before feeling Crowley slip one arm behind my back and the other under my legs, gently lifting me out of the arm chair. “They wouldn’t have had a long day if they told me they were sick.” I heard him grumble as he walked out of the book shop and gently placed me in his bentley. I tried to wake up fully to greet him but the gentle rumble of the car starting lulled me back to sleep as Crowley obeyed traffic laws for once.

    The next time I woke up, I was being placed on mine and Crowley’s shared bed. He had brought me home driving far too slow for his liking and then carried me all the way into our apartment. It warmed my heart to know I had such an effect on the snake-eyed demon.

    After processing where I was I finally spoke up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to worry about me, it’s just a headache.” I said, trying to calm the demon.

    I watched as he set his sunglasses on his nightstand before laying down and wrapping his arms around me. “I will always worry about you, Love. I just wish you had told me. Now go back to sleep, in the morning you can take the medicine I got for you. And we will rest all day.” He said, kissing my forehead.

    “Okay” I said snuggling into his warm embrace before a thought came to mind. “Hey Crow, could you wrap your wings around me too? They’re just so soft and they help block out the light.” I asked half asleep, hoping he would agree. I didn’t have to wait long as he rolled on to his back with me laying on his chest. I heard feathers ruffle as he opened his wings before wrapping them around me.

    I cuddled closer to his chest as he whispered “anything for you, darling.” and then we both drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

Aziraphale 

    Dating an angel was a blessing and a curse. While he appreciated things like books, food, and drinks, he didn’t fully understand what it was like for humans when they got sick. Sure he’s been on earth for 6000 years and seen numerous people get sick, but it was never someone close to him. He tried to avoid sickness, he knew he couldn’t get any of the human diseases but he didn’t want to risk getting someone else sick because he came in contact with someone who was sick. He just didn’t want to risk it. 

    That’s why when I woke up this morning feeling like world war 3 was happening in my stomach, I decided to just tell my sweet boyfriend that I wouldn’t be able to come by today as work had called me in to cover for a coworker. I know it’s wrong to lie to him about it but I didn’t want him to tell me not to come over because I’m sick. It was easier on me if I canceled our plans instead of him being grossed out by my sickness. So, I’ve resigned myself to trying to nap on my couch as my bed just wasn’t comfortable right now.

     I just wanted to sleep through this, so I took some over the counter stomach medicine that I had laying around and turned on some anime to relax. 

     After about four hours of watching Demon Slayer, I decided to scroll on social media because maybe that would put me to sleep. Watching Tanjiro get his ass kicked wasn’t exactly relaxing right now. I opened up tiktok and started watching videos of different cosplayers and people making art for their small businesses. I would occasionally see one that reminded me of my demon friend Crowley and would send it to him, completely forgetting he typically hangs out with Aziraphale and would probably say something about it.

P.o.V change to Aziraphale’s bookshop

     Little did Y/n know that was exactly what was happening. Crowley was currently scrolling through his phone listening to the angel complain about his partner canceling their plans because they had to go into work. Not completely paying attention to the angle Crowley watched as a tiktok notification flashed across his screen. He opened it wondering if Y/n was at work why would they be sending him tiktok.

     “What time does Y/n typically get off work?” The demon asked, trying to process what was happening. He wondered if it was maybe something they had sent before going to work and it just took a while to come through, but then again the chat did say you were currently active in the app.

     The angel paused thinking for a moment, “I believe they get off around five, so they should still be there now. Why do you ask?” He asked curious as to what his companion was getting at.

      Crowely took a second to decide if he was going to tell the truth or try to protect the innocent man's feelings from the fact his partner had lied. Sighing, he decided it was probably best to tell the truth even if it would hurt the angel. “Well they just sent me a tiktok and it says they are active.” He said turning his Phone for his friend to see.

      The angel’s eyes went wide seeing that his partner was active on the social media app while they were supposedly at work. He tried to deny it, “Maybe they are just on break.” He really didn’t want to believe that you would lie to him about having to work. Why would lie about that, if you just needed a day to rest he would understand.

      “Well looking here it seems they have been sending me tiktoks for the past hour so unless their lunch is over an hour long, they aren’t at work.” Crowley responded, scrolling up in the conversation to see when the first one was sent to him. Even though he was a demon he didn’t want to believe that his friend would lie to the angel. Y/n just wasn’t that kind of person. “The only way to get an answer would be to go over to their apartment, cause if you call them they will probably try to play it off somehow.” He said not trying to concern the angel but also trying to voice the truth.

      Aziraphale nodded and grabbed his coat, bidding his friend goodbye and heading out. He really hoped it was just that y/n had gotten off work early for covering and it wasn’t them lying to him. The angel couldn’t help but overthink things as he approached the familiar apartment gently knocking on the door.

P.o.V back to reader

      I had almost fallen asleep when I heard a quiet knock at my front door, not thinking anything of it I got up and walked to the door. Opening the door I was shocked to see the face of my angelic boyfriend with worry written across his features.

      “Zira, what are you doing here?” I was confused as to why he showed up here after I told him I was working an extra shift. “My boss let me leave early because it was slow and turns out they didn’t need me after all, I just got home. Why don’t you come in?” I said trying to cover the fact I in fact did not go into work. Aziraphale slowly walked into my home and sat down on the couch looking around. I could tell there was something on his mind before I watched him freeze, as his eyes landed on the cold medicine sitting on the table.

      “Why didn’t you just tell me you were ill? I would have understood.” He said, sounding dejected. “I know, you lie down and I’ll make you some tea.” He started getting up from the couch. It was crazy to see how fast he could go from hurt to caring in only a few seconds. I stoof there frozen, He just figured out I lied to me, I’m guessing he knew before he came here, but he is ready to take care of me just like that. I felt a tear roll down my cheeks as I took in how truly kind Aziraphale is. “Love, what’s wrong? It’s ok, just relax, I’ll take care of you.” He noticed I was still standing by the door.

      I gently shook my head, I can’t just let him take care of me after I lied to him. “But I lied to you. I said I was going to work and canceled our plans, when in reality I’m sick. You don’t like sick people. You’ve said so yourself. You avoid them even though you can’t get sick. I thought you wouldn’t want to be near me till I get better. You don’t have to take care of me just because we are dating, I understand.” I said as more tears rolled down my face. I was too busy trying to tell him to go back to the bookshop to notice he had walked up to me.

      I was startled out of my ranting by the feeling of being wrapped in his warm embrace. He had pulled me into his chest and placed a kiss on the top of my head. I completely relaxed into him, it was the most comfortable I had felt all day. “It’s alright Darling, I’m here because I love you. I want to take care of you. I avoid sick people so I don’t get you sick, I may not get sick but I could still pass the germs to you. I will always take care of you when you don’t feel well.” He said, face still rating against my hair. I just cuddled deeper into his embrace.

      After a moment I lifted my head to break the hug so I could lie down when I noticed it wasn’t just his arms wrapped around me. I stared at the beautiful white feather that trapped me in a warm embrace. I looked at my boyfriend’s face shocked as he had never shown me his wings before. “Are those?” I asked, completely stunned. “Can I touch them?” I also asked turning in his hold reaching towards the soft feathers.

      He just responded with a hum and a nod letting me run my fingers through his feathers. They were the softest thing I had ever felt. I giggled as I felt him nuzzle his face into the back of my neck, the feathers ruffling slightly at the contact. “Are they sensitive?” I asked, noticing his reaction.

      “They can be yes. It’s been a while since I have let them out so a little more so at the moment.” I felt him speak into the back of my neck. 

      “Well thank you for showing them to me. They truly are extremely soft.” I said praising the angel wrapped around me. I completely forgot about being sick enjoying his embrace.

      He slowly let me go and guided me to the couch, folding his wings back slightly so as to not knock anything over. “Of course dear. Now lay down, I’ll be back in a moment with soup.” He said before walking off towards the kitchen leaving me to relax into the couch. It was nice knowing I had such an angel of a boyfriend to take care of me.

[y13evie]

I had an idea for a James Wilson fic and saw ur requests were open.

U don't have to do it ofc uts just an idea :]

So ig it's a kinda enemies to lovers thing where the reader constantly pisses off Wilson and she's absolutely convinced she annoys him sm there's no chance of him liking her.

Then smt happens (dunno what) and the reader is upset abt smt and is hiding from everyone as she has a breakdown and Wilson somehow finds her and.... ye

Again u don't have to do it but ye

anon this is so cutesy wutesy. i tried my best n i hope you like it!! also i’m sosos sorry for the wait.

tags: no mentions of y/n, slight angst, mentions of cancer and dead people and heart attacks, otherwise just fluffy

“do you always have that stupid smile plastered across your face?”, james wilson asked. you’re pretty damn sure he would erase you off the face of this planet if given the chance.

“only for you”, and you were proud of it.

because the both of you were in the oncology department together, it gave you plenty of opportunity to bug him. at first you truly didn’t mean to, small things like bumping into him at the wrong time. but instead of letting your feelings become shot due to his scolding, you embraced it. you make it your goal to do something that you know will annoy james.

today was friday and the two of you had been assigned the same case. the patient at hand had stage 3 soft tissue sarcoma. their condition wasn’t great, but vitals were fine. you were talking with a nurse about what steps to take moving forward with his treatment. out of the corner of your eye you saw that familiar face. the two of you beckon the other doctor over. it seems as if he was trying to ignore you, the way he hesitantly made his way over to you two.

“please, make it quick.” he huffed. the nurse explained the case while you stood there for a moment deciding on whether taking his stethoscope was a good idea. you decided it was and quickly took the device from off his neck and onto yours. you put your hands on your hips and contorted your face to look angry. james was not having it as he quickly tried to get it back. but you were faster than him and was able to keep it.

“you might think that’s funny but it’s unprofessional. i don’t understand how you’re allowed to work with adults when you act like a child.”. his comment seemed to kill the mood as the other nurse walked off, leaving just the two of you. deciding that he’d had enough you unwrapped the equipment from your neck and handed it back. james snatched it from you, looking you up and down in distaste.

“do your job. it’s doctors like you that kill patients”. his tone was harsh. it pierced your heart a little bit. ever since you had first joined the hospital crew, you always sort of looked up to him. he was so intelligent and seemed to always know what he was doing. and you hated the fact he implied that you were killing patients. the people you work so hard to save.

you tried to brush his words off, telling yourself he’s just a grump and didn’t mean anything by it. you continued your day as usual. you only had a couple patients today so it was a relaxed day. that was until the patient from earlier had a rapid decline in health. he suffered a massive heart attack and the team was not able to save him. you stood there as the doctors repeated his time of death. you’ve lost many lives before and you know it was just apart of your job, but something stuck to you.

“it’s doctors like you that kill patients”. his words rang throughout your mind like a gunshot. you made your way to the break room and curled up on the couch with your head in your hands. quiet sobs left your mouth. maybe he was right. maybe all this time you weren’t good enough. at this point you had fully convinced yourself that it was your fault. if only you had payed more attention to his history. if only you had searched deeper into his files, then maybe. just maybe, you could’ve found something to prevent this from happening.

the screech of the door opening had pulled you from your thoughts. you looked up to see him. james wilson. james was able to read the hurt expression on your face. he stared for a moment, taking in the situation.

“it’s not your fault”

you got up and started your way to the door with tears threatening to fall once again. james moved so you were unable to exit.

“dr. wilson, please-“ you practically begged him to move. but he wouldn’t budge. instead, his eyes softened and face relaxed. he looked worried. you tried once more to leave the room but jus as expected, you failed.

“i’m sorry.” he took a deep breath before continuing. “you’re an amazing doctor. you love your patients. i know you do. and you’re a good person. i want you to know that. every time you bother me i secretly enjoy it because i’m able to see you happy.”. he paused for a moment, waiting for your response.

shocked at the fact he doesn’t hate you, you ask him, “you..like me?. almost laughing at the thought of him enjoying your company. but he’s not laughing. his eyes are gentle and he puts a hand on your shoulder.

“of course i like you. and the fact that you’re..” he motions to your current state of sadness, “..like this because of something i said is awful. i hate the idea that i made you feel unworthy.”. you stopped for a second to let his words absorb into your head. as if someone else was controlling your body, you hugged him. he froze for a moment with his hands dangling above your back, before relaxing into the hug. james gently rubbed your hair and back while whispering kind words.

you were the first to pull away. slightly laughing at yourself for being so sensitive. you awkwardly look at him before shuffling your way to the door. just as your hand reaches the handle he stops you.

“hey, wait. after this is all sorted, would you want to have dinner with me tonight?” he cursed himself for asking at a bad moment, but knew he would never ask if he didn’t now. you looked at him, and then back at the door.

“yeah! i would love that. just uhm- let me know whenever. okay?thankyoubyeeee” you smooshed the last words together in an attempt to leave and

cover up your now rose tinted cheeks. on the other side of the door james pumped his fist in the air like a little kid. maybe he needed some sweetness in his life.

[eqt-95]

I'm here to bring fluff and happiness back with this ♥️

ok so get this: my phone showed your ask as a red heart. so here I was, typing away about deep-throating popsicles and fingering milkshakes when I opened your ask on my laptop and saw a... white heart?! absolute witchcraft!

and since now i don't know what's right-side up from upside down, i offer a mash up: ❤️+🤍 or 'first kiss / realization' + 'kiss at the wedding / milestone'

p.s. thanks for the fluff and happiness injection. i needed it

- - - - - -

Kara loved going to weddings. What wasn’t there to love? There were flowers, delicious foods, endless dancing, and, best of all, that excuse to confess your deepest feelings in front of friends and family to the love of your life. 

She’d watched her sister and Kelly share their vows, commit to each other, and look darn good while doing it. She danced with Nia and Brainy to Bye-Bye-Bye which was technically of Alex’s no-play list, but Nia bribed the DJ. She stuffed her face with cake alongside Esme who was stubbornly fighting off the sleepies. She even had the most amazing pep-talk slash hug slash reveal with Lena.

The very best kind.

The kind that left her warm and seen and cherished.

The kind that left her wanting that same feeling for forever. 

The kind that felt like a Red Sun: held and understood and home. 

So why did she feel so… heavy and twisted inside?

Stumped. She was stumped. She was also in a slump. Her lower lip was quite close to a grump. But how to overcome this hump?

She shook her head. Now was definitely not the time for Dr. Seuss rhymes. Though silently she argued there was always time for Dr. Seuss rhymes.

Serious Kara won out. So instead of rhymes she stewed. She stewed and brewed and searched for a clue(d) -

“What’s up homie?” Nia asked, sliding across the bench and tipsily colliding into Kara’s side. “You missed REO Speedwagon. Even J’onn gave it his all; might’ve thrown out his back though. Poor guy. I am parched.”

Kara bit her lip and scowled and really really wanted a rhyme scheme to get her through this. “You love Brainy, right?”

“Woa, left field there swinger,” Nia smirked. Her attention was on the array of glasses with colorful drinks littering the table behind them. “Sure do.”

Kara slouched and let her chin find the palm of her hand. “So how did-”

“You think this is sour raspberry?” Nia interrupted, a cup of bright blue liquid appearing under Kara’s nose. “Or tropical punch,” she said.

Kara sniffed the cup. “Tropical punch.”

“Bonus,” Nia exclaimed and took a long drag. “You were saying?”

“Um,” Kara began without an ounce of heroic chutzpah. “How did you know?”

The question made the ‘heavy’ feeling morph into butterflies. It did nothing for the twisting. In fact, it exacerbated the twisting. It wrangled around her heart and made her breaths shallow with nerves. Definitely no chutzpah.

“Easy: He’s my person. My ride or die. To infinity and beyond. The Clyde to my Bonnie.”

“Are you sure that’s who you want to compare-”

“Look, it doesn’t matter. They went out with a bang,” Nia scoffed. “But fine, point taken,” Nia conceded then pulled another deep swig. “He’s the Orpheus to my Persephone.”

“I think you mean Eurydice.”

“Sure.” Her lips were now a faint shade of blue.

“But also, didn’t Orpheus fail-?”

“He did no such thing!” Nia proclaimed with rather unfounded enthusiasm. Juice sloshed onto the grass. “He went to the depths of hell for the woman he loved. He descended through souls and ghouls and fools-”

Kara wondered if this was the rhyme she needed. Maybe it was, because it propelled her up and across the lawn and so focused was she that Nia’s parting words of ‘Go get her, champ!’ fell of deaf ears.

She stumbled over lawn darts and accidentally destroyed a life-size jenga game. She nearly walked straight through the barn wall and into a decorative trough. She walked straight past the cake without grabbing a slice. 

Kara Zor El was on a mission.

And that mission was less than ten feet away, laughing and radiating like the sun rose and shone only for her. Her nose scrunched as the smile spread wider when Kara approached. It faded only slightly when the palpable look of fear on Kara’s face was noticed.

“Kara? Is everything ok?” she asked, stepping away from the group and brushing a reassuring thumb over Kara’s arm.

They stepped more steps until the steps led them to crickets and tree frogs and only the white noise of people. And ever the Pulitzer winning wordsmith, these were the words that managed to trip out of her mouth:

“I want to be your Orpheus.”

Lena’s mouth parted and eyes narrowed. “You… what?”

“I want to… shoot, no I mean…”

“You want to trap me in hell?” Lena asked. And bless the straight face she was trying to keep, but between Kara’s fish mouthing and absolutely butchering of whatever heartfelt words she had hoped would appear out of thin air, Lena’s face was doing some serious gymnastics to keep from smirking.

“He didn’t fail! He… he…”

Straws. Those were the things Kara was grasping for. Humiliatingly limp, paper straws.

“I want to fight off souls and ghouls and fools for you. I want the chance. I want you and the world to know that you are the person I’d move heaven and hell for you, because you make me feel whole. You make me feel seen and wanted and loved and I just… I just want you. And I don’t know why it’s taken me so long to realize it but I-”

Lips.

Soft lips.

Soft lips and deep sighs and the flutter of long dark hair tickling her cheeks.

And then a sigh.

And then a ‘wowzers’.

And then a laugh.

And then again.

- - - - -

ask game

[ronearoundblindly]

Valentines day with Ari before they started "dating" each other

Alone Together, a Bedrock and Blueprints tale

Final of the Valentine's Fics of 2023. Thank you for the ask, Princess! Wishing everyone a loving day of friends, family, and healing. 💙 No warnings except for mild language (it me) and some bad behavior from a jerk that Ari steps in for! Oh, big shock, it's 1.8k...like they all are 😒 (so lightly edited, you'd never know)

He’ll forever be known as Dickhead Darren. He talked a good game. You commiserated over shitty exes. He wanted all the same things long-term. He was open and affectionate, always holding your hand or walking with an arm over your shoulder. After only a dozen or so dates, you were on cloud nine with high, high hopes.

Then came Valentine’s Day.

What is it about this damn day that just upends whole lives every flipping year?

Your best friend, Ari, genuinely doesn’t leave his apartment all day for this very reason, and you chided him this time, full force, saying he was paranoid to strategically be single on February 14th every year.

Ari…might be right.

Darren, however, turns out to be big on the V-Day planning. He’s made reservations at the priciest place in the city, something you insisted was unnecessary but were told ‘you’re worth it.’ So you stopped arguing, tried to take the compliment, and started to get pretty excited about the big day. 

You hurry home to dress up after work and make it to the restaurant on time. Darren lives in a swanky apartment downtown. It’s easier for him to meet you there. His last text said he was excited to see you and he was heading home from work.

You have to pull hard on the heavy glass door before the hostess politely seats four other couples in front of you. You give Darren’s name, and she smiles. They can seat you immediately. Since there are already people filing in behind you, you let her weave you through a sea of two-tops, texting Darren the approximate location so he can find you when he arrives.

No response comes. If he’s driving there, he probably can’t text back.

You wait.

By the second check-in by the waiter, you order a drink and then you sip and sip and sip. You shoot another text to Darren asking if he thinks he’ll be a bit late after all. Maybe he’s afraid to admit that. Maybe he picked up flowers last minute, or simply hit traffic.

Ari would hate this place. The decor is so fancy it pushes gaudy and sparkles with metals and facets a little too much, but you can’t deny it is a sight to experience. As discreetly as you can, you send your friend photos of the beautiful but highly overdone decorations and the needlessly romantic petals on the tabletop.

Ari’s question is why the seat at the edge of the picture is empty. You say it’s not even the exact time of your reservation yet, so it’s fine. Darren is on his way, you’re pretty sure. Ari drops it and asks about the food.

There’s a set, sharing menu for the evening, and your stomach starts to growl while you pine for an appetizer.

Still, nothing from Darren but you’ve only been seated for fifteen minutes. Darren has never been late without messaging you though.

Since Ari is the only one responding, you keep texting him. You express a little concern that no text has arrived from your date. Darren probably looked at the prices, Ari jokes. The man got scared of what that kinda cost commitment would mean, and you fire back that not all guys are as afraid of love as Levinson is.

After a few more quips concerning Ari’s lack of romantic stability, he’s gathered that Darren has, in fact, still not arrived or called. It is three minutes past the reservation time.

:Want me to come pick you up?

Ari is melodramatic sometimes.

:No. It’s only just time now.

:Okay, how long you gonna give him?

:He’s coming, you grump! He probably just primped enough for Versailles.

:One more drink then?

To prove your point you do order another and Darren’s preferred style of beer from the list. It’s thoughtful, and you have every faith he’s coming. Your nerves are just making you overreact.

Those aren’t nerves; they are instincts. They scream at you for the whole other half hour you wait.

You can sense Ari wanting to gloat so you stop answering while you watch a beer go flat across the table and see red petals brown at the edges in real-time.

Finally, a text from Darren pops up.

His ex was waiting at his place when he got home.

He’s sorry.

He’s fucking sorry.

You’re trying not to have a very public meltdown, and he’s sorry?

All you text Ari is a bunch of exclamations, and he calls immediately.

You answer but don’t speak, afraid your voice will shake and break. 

“Kid, what’s wrong?” Ari waits through very rough background noise. “Please tell me he showed up and I don’t have to do this.”

You cover your nose and mouth to sniffle as inconspicuously as possible. “Do what?”

“Is he there?”

“No.” The word is watery and pathetic.

“You wanna go home?”

Tears are starting to escape despite your best efforts. “I’ve had two drinks on an empty stomach. I don’t think I’m in any shape to get on a bus.”

“Ok,” he says before hanging up the phone, and it’s a good thirty seconds of you hyperventilating in an attempt to dial Ari back before you see steel-toed boots align with your heels over the side of the chair.

Your hazy gaze rakes up a very tall man in dark jeans and a dress shirt—well, as dressy of a shirt as Ari Levinson owns.

“Hey,” he mutters with a smile.

The tension in your chest boils over, face cracking into an ugly sob because he’s here. The perpetual anti-Valentine hauled ass across town for you…and you’ve had no food with alcohol.

“Okay, alright,” Ari hushes, kneeling down so you can bury your face in his (thankfully dark) shirt. The hug masks that you are not happy from other patrons, and his position seems to give a few onlookers the wrong idea.

A few people start clapping. Others join in and start ‘aww’ing you. They think Ari’s just proposed to you, and he stiffens in your arms.

“For the record, this is why I don’t do this shit,” he says in your ear, making to pull away until you grip tighter.

“Just one more second,” you blubber. You’re not quite ready to be seen, and there are still people watching.

He rubs your back for as long as it takes. By the time you release him and Ari can slide into the seat he pulls to be beside you, not across from you, the waiter returns with a tight but genuine smile.

“Let me refresh this drink for you, sir. One moment.”

Ari’s brows go up when he realizes the man means to get him a completely new glass of beer. That’s way better service than either of you is used to.

When the waiter sets down the replacement, he asks if you are ready to order, and Ari tilts his head in your direction.

“Lady’s choice. She’s been staring at the menu long enough.” He sweeps a large thumb over your wet cheek once then takes a swig of beer while you pick apps and entreés.

“Damn,” he mutters once the waiter’s gone. “That’s really fucking good.” Ari takes another refreshing gulp. “Don’t ever tell Dickhead I said that.”

“I don’t think I’ll be saying much of anything to Darren…” Your joke doesn’t ring so true when your voice wavers like that, but Ari nods in understanding.

He runs his hand through his long hair and leans back in the chair before someone bumps right into him.

“Sorry,” the shocked patron says.

Ari smirks, looking around. “I guess I messed up the seating arrangement by being the only one to want to sit close to their date, huh?”

He drags the chair back to the opposite side from you but reaches out his hand.

“You okay, kid?”

His palm is warm, his fingers strong and comforting when they give yours a squeeze.

Wiping your other cheek, you nod and mumble that you just need to freshen up in the bathroom.

He still smirks. “Don’t take too long, they’ll find out I don’t belong and body-snatch me.”

Ari doesn’t just make dinner tolerable; he turns it into a laugh-riot you have to smother cackling over the entire time. He plays this game, a game where he finds a couple and makes up elaborate stories of their relationships and what they’re saying. Of course, it’s all horrible, but it’s what you need to hear right now. You need the failed holiday cheer.

After he loses your fork battle for the last tiny bite of an overly tiny dessert, Ari set his open palm on the table again.

“Baby,” he rumbles in a desperately sexy voice, eyes turned up at you through his lashes.

He waits for you to take his hand, biting his lower lip, clearly trying not to laugh, but the picture is still your hairy, weird, wonderful best friend.

“Will you…split the check with me?”

You can’t help it. You snort-laugh right in his face, slapping your free hand down on the tablecloth before racing to cover your mouth.

You nod furiously.

He’s just so honest and so stupid and so, so perfect. He salvaged everything about this night—hell, about this whole relationship—and the least you can do is lift some burden from him, too.

“Let me buy you dinner, old man. My treat.”

Ari stands up slightly from his chair, lifting your hand to his lips and kissing your knuckles. His beard tickles. You squirm in your seat at the sensation.

“My hero,” he preens, and you jerk your hand away.

“Oh, stop,” you flash back, “you’re buying the pizza on our way home though. I know you’re still hungry, Ari.”

It’s his turn to cover his laugh. You know him too well.

He starts to roll his shirt sleeves back down in preparation for walking out into the chillier night. He’s overly adoring while you handle the bill, playing the damsel to your Green Knight, but it only makes you laugh harder. At least he saves the joke about having to 'put out' for after the door closes and the hostess can’t overhear.

Ari tosses his arm over your shoulder and rubs some warmth into your under-layered skin. “I think we might have ruined me for cheap beer now though.” 

Your head snaps up to see sparkling blue eyes, shoving him in the ribs lightly. “That’s a you problem! I’m not your sugar mama.”

He gives a cheeky scratch to his beard before petting it smooth. “Aww, honey, just let an old man have his delusions, huh?”

You two jostle and joke all the way to his truck and then continue, as you always have, all the way to a late-night snack.

Again, apologies for really screwing up my taglists. Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!

[Next Part]

@supraveng @patzammit

[Light Masterlist; Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[princess-of-purple-prose]

HIII writing prompt “monster” and 7? 💕

Giggling the teensiest bit, I love you <3 No, really, I love you, because 7 was, amusingly, the wildcard number, so randomly picking landed me on TIM STOKER, and I don’t think I’ve ever written in his pov before but this CONSUMED ME?? I haven’t written this much in one go in weeks, forget this fast?? This also, uh, turned into full-out jontim, which was a complete accident because this was SUPPOSED to be a meditation on him mid-Research era. Aha. Enjoy!!!!

“—and that,” Jon declares, “is why it’s so vital to continue establishing Hope Spots, not just in spots ripe for ecotourism, but across the world.” He takes what must be his first breath in ten full minutes, and it’s only then that he seems to register Tim and Sasha’s twin gleeful expressions. His own expression goes a little funny. “Tim, Sasha, please tell me you weren’t—”

Sasha is already stabbing at her phone, fumbling a little before she actually hits the right button. “Twelve minutes and forty-six seconds! A new record!”

“The man’s a monster!” Tim toasts Jon with a whoop, and Jon—there’s really no other word for it: he fully pouts at Tim, wrinkling his nose so primly it makes Tim want to bear-hug him right then and there. He sublimates the urge by being even more over-the-top, trying to see if he can make Jon’s nose scrunch up even more. “Attenborough who! I want all my documentaries voiced by this man!” Opposite him, Sasha dissolves into tiny giggles, sweet and delicate as a spray of mayflowers.

“Sasha missed the ‘stop’ button about five times, you can’t call that—” Jon snorts, but his cheeks have turned the rich cherry of his desk back at Research, so he can’t be that mad about their subpar timekeeping of his latest incredibly disorganized, incredibly endearing overview of the last documentary he watched.

“Jonnnnnn, take the win!” Tim cries, and he gives in and slings an arm around Jon’s shoulder like it belongs there. God, the man’s teeny, they need to make sure he gets some carbs in him. On that note— “Take some chips, too, you’re built like a bird!”

“And you’re built like,” Jon grumps, “a—a—” He scowls and takes a chip, presumably only to cover the fact that he’s too drunk to come up with a simile. Contrary little bastard, he is. “Get off me, you arse.”

Tim makes a complaining sound even as he immediately pulls away—only for Jon to jolt and then practically butt up into Tim’s hovering arm, far more housecat than bird. Tim freezes, not putting any pressure against Jon even though they’re skin-to-cardigan again.

“Jon…?”

Oh, there it is, there’s that wrinkled nose. Tim loses his breath, a little bit. “I didn’t mean it,” Jon says, scowling even harder than he’d been before and refusing to look Tim’s way. “It’s—It’s cold in here, alright?”

As a matter of fact, it is a comfortable degree of stifling in here, and Jon is in a cardigan that’s more than enough to ward off the mild autumnal chill and drunk besides. Jon seems well aware of this, or maybe not aware at all, because as Tim settles tentatively against him again, he grabs for his long-forgotten glass and downs the rest of it. Tim gives Sasha a wide-eyed look, only for her—traitor! Disloyal turncoat!— to smirk back, propping her chin up with a hand and arching her perfect eyebrows at him.

“Oh, shut up,” he snips, cheeks warming, just as Jon sets down his now-empty glass. Jon turns to him curiously, having entirely missed the exchange, and Tim turns his brightest beam on him and coos, “Not you, you’re a delight and I’m glad you’re sitting next to me and not”—he aims another scowl her way, and Sasha sticks her tongue out at him—“Sasha over there, because she gives me a hard enough time without you there to egg her on worse.”

Sasha smirks harder. Tim wishes he could kick her under the table without Jon noticing.

“I’m perfectly capable of siding with her even while sitting practically on top of you,” Jon sniffs, drier than anyone should be capable of being with that quantity of liquor in them, and Tim gapes in outrage even as delight fills him up to the tips of his ears to match Jon’s still-red cheeks.

“That’s what I like to hear, Jon!” Sasha cheers, raising her own empty glass to him. Jon quirks a wicked little grin and does the same.

Tim emits a high-pitched squawk of disbelief. “With friends like you, who needs enemies?” He sags dramatically against Jon, relishing in his little grumble of annoyance as he gets crushed. “What’s a guy to do?”

“Buy us more drinks?” Sasha suggests innocently to the tune of Jon’s sniggering, and Tim groans theatrically even as he flags down the waiter for another round. Monsters, the both of them! he laments to himself. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

[the-cat-chat]

May 6, 2023

Lou (2022)

A storm rages and a young girl is kidnapped. Her mother teams up with the mysterious woman next door to pursue the kidnapper. Together they embark on a journey that tests their limits and exposes shocking secrets from their pasts.

JayBell: From pretty early on, we predicted a lot of the plot and even the major twist, but that’s okay. I love the loner, hermit, retired spy/assassin trope. Allison Janey plays a gruff, no nonsense, and closed off woman.

I like the way the movie emphasizes how her physical inabilities in her older age prevents her from accomplishing the same actions she would have when she was younger, and how much this upsets her. Not that she would admit it though. You get the sense that she would never have retired unless she was forced to. She definitely got her meaning from her job and would have preferred to die on the job too.

The film was also very upfront with the fact that Lou never meant to be a mother and didn’t want to be a mother. While Hannah was initially very angry about Lou’s actions as a mother, Hannah understood in the end and felt empathy for Lou as well as the little boy her husband once was.

Speaking of the psychotic husband, wow did he have so many issues. Mommy issues to the extreme. Which I get, his childhood was pretty messed up but yikes. Also once Anzie pointed out how much Logan Marshall-Green looks like Tom Hardy I couldn’t unsee it.

In the end, a solid John Wick/Rambo type movie. Enjoyable, but in the end, not mind blowing.

Rating: 6/10 cats 🐈

Anzie: The only info you really get about this movie is an old lady with arthritis helps get a kidnapped girl back. Now we all know that screams spy. Right??

I was pleasantly surprised with the story even though you can totally plot out what is going to happen- it still happens in an entertaining and different way than you would expect.

All the actors performed really well and made the whole scenario believable. Allison Janney was such a grump and so super spy. And Logan Marshall- Green was such a freaaaak.

The end has so many twists that the movie really gets your attention at every point- and even though it the end and you’d think it would wind down- NO it ramps UPPPPPPP!! It’s hard to explain without totallly spoiling the whole thing but it’s a really good time and suspenseful watch. - the soup can dealio was insannne in the membrane - very John Wick.

Rating: 6/10 Kitty Cats 🐈

[pulisicsgirl]

HELLOOOO I’M LATE WITH THIS🫣

You had done your best to bring the festive holiday spirit into your home—even into Mason’s as you forced him to join you in decorating his house on the very first day of December, dragging him into a few shops to buy extra decorations to fill his house. He had only pretended to be a little bit annoyed, his aversion to shopping completely overcome by getting to watch the joy on your face while decorating for the holidays. You had spread lights, tinsel, ornaments, and little snowman figurines all over the rooms of his home while you shuffled your Christmas playlist in the background. I WANT TO DO THIS WITH HIM🥹

However, Mason still couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment each time he remembered that you wouldn’t been spending Christmas morning with his family. He tried his best not to show it— he knew how much it meant to you that your family would be traveling to see you this year. WE AND MASON DON’T LIKE HER FAMILY😌🙁

But all of that seemed to come crumbling down in the matter of a few days. HERE WE GO😭

Your brother had unexpectedly received the news that his work schedule had changed, and he would be expected to work on Christmas Eve—meaning he, his wife, and your 2-month-old niece would be unable to travel to visit you. But your father and mother couldn’t possibly bear to miss the little one’s very first Christmas, so instead they would remain at home and your brother (who lived nearby) would host Christmas instead. FUCK THEM🥺

The news felt like a sharp object had been driven into your heart and you spent the rest of your evening curled up on your bed, wallowing in your feelings and ignoring the calls and texts from your mother after you had unexpectedly ended your conversation. I NEED TO GIVE HER AN HUG

When you awoke the next morning, your first thought was of talking to Mason about the previous night's events—a conversation that would unfortunately have to wait as he had a big game to play today: the highly anticipated Manchester derby. It was a huge game, not only because of the longstanding rivalry between the two teams, but because Mason was expected to be in the starting eleven. OH NO🥺

So then, you decided, you would have to tell him tomorrow… or maybe the next day. OH GIRLY

But for the second time in less than 24 hours, your stomach sank as, 14 minutes into the game, you watched Mason wave the physios over as he sat on the grass. He was too far away for you to be able to make out his facial expression, but there was no mistaking the posture of the rest of his body. As he spoke with the physios and they looked him over, his shoulders slumped, a resigned look taking over him. NOW I’M SAD

UGH SHE NEEDS TO TELL HIM OR SHE’LL EXPLODE😭😭

And though he always expressed his appreciation for your efforts, the smile he gave you was all too forced, and you knew he was still hurting inside. He had apologized to you a few times now for “being a right grump,” afraid he would ruin your excitement for Christmas time— and after that, you just didn’t have the heart to tell him that someone had already beat him to it. UGH I FEEL BAD FOR HIM, BABY BOY

It was only 2 days before Christmas, when Mason had decided to stay at yours for the night and you slid under the covers behind him, pressing your chest up against his back ad tangling your bare legs with his. Many months ago, Mason had confessed that he liked to be the little spoon when he was feeling a bit more vulnerable. And after his most recent injury a couple weeks ago, it had become a staple in your nighttime routine with him. You loved the feeling of cuddling up close to his warm skin, and you couldn’t help from pressing a barely-there kiss to the base of his neck, sending a gentle shiver down his spine. I AM MELTING, I WANT THIS

“Good, good,” he breathed, and you could tell he was enjoying the attention you were giving him. “Your parents get in tomorrow, right? Are you excited to see them?” OH SHIT🫣

THE FACT HE IMMEDIATELY KNEW SOMETHING WAS WRONG🥺🤏🏻

“They’re not coming?” Another nod. You watched Mason’s face fall in genuine hurt for you. “Again?” It was barely a whisper when he said it. EXACTLY MASON

“So you’ve been carrying this around for the last couple weeks all alone?” Mason finished for you. You shrugged in response. He could only hold you a little bit tighter, heart clenching in his chest at the thought of you being so weighed down by these emotions without him even knowing. HE IS A GOOD MAN SAVANNAH😌

“Tomorrow morning, I’ll help you pack a bag so you can stay at mine for a few days,” Mason stated matter-of-factly. “My family will all be arriving in the evening and they’ll be so happy to see you—Mum and Jazz especially, they were so disappointed when I told them you wouldn’t be spending Christmas morning with us.” THE FACT HE DIDN’T ASK, HE JUST TOLD HER WHAT THEY ARE DOING

“You didn’t spring anything on me last year,” Mason shushed you softly. “I invited you. And better yet this year, you already know just how stubborn I am, so you know this conversation isn’t ending in any way other than you agreeing to go home with me tomorrow.” I LOVE HIM😌🤭

A beat more of silence passed before you replied with a soft “okay,” and Mason burried his face in your neck, squeezing you tightly in excitement and you couldn’t help but giggle at him, your mood instantly lifted. The hurt and disappointment was still there, but it was significantly dimmed by the knowledge that you would get to be a part of the Mount Christmas for the second year in a row. HE IS SO HAPPY, AND SHE IS SO HAPPY TOO, I LOVE THEM

“You have no idea how excited I am to spend Christmas with you again,” he whispered, his nose brushing yours. HE IS A HAPPY BABY

Once everyone was in bed, you and Mason got to work setting out all of the presents that had been carefully hidden in Mason’s large closet. Mason watched with admiration as you carefully arranged the gifts and filled everyone’s stockings with the little bits and treats you had picked up over the last few weeks. The care with which you sorted everything left him feeling warm inside, thinking once again how thankful he was to have you with him on Christmas Eve. IMAGINE THEM DOING THIS FOR THEIR FUTURE KIDS🥹

OMG? SHE IS SO GOOD WITH SUMMER? AHHH CUTE😭

Mason’s heart swelled with affection for seemingly the hundredth time in the last few days as you bent forward to press a proper kiss to his lips. For a moment, he got lost in the feel of you, hoping the two of you could spend just a few minutes more together in bed. However you, painfully aware of the open door behind you, pulled back and dropped one last kiss to his forehead. Slipping quietly out of bed, you popped to the bathroom to brush your teeth before you and Mason went downstairs to join the rest of his family.HE IS SO IN LOVE

Much to your surprise, yours was no longer hanging on the mantel empty, as you had left it the night before. Instead, as you took it from Tony, you pulled out a variety of face masks, bath salts, and pleasantly scented soaps. You looked over at Mason, whose face held a satisfied smirk—he must have snuck back down last night after you had gone up and filled your stocking without you knowing.I MIGHT CRY, THE CARE HE HAS🥹🥹🥹

She approached you with a small box in her hands, mumbling a soft, “here you go, Auntie Y/N,” before spinning on her heel and returning to the tree. You froze in shock for a moment— it was the very first time Summer had ever called you that. You cared deeply for the little girl and her sister, and her clear acceptance of you as a part of the family meant a great deal to you. Mason, sitting with one arm behind you on the couch and on resting on your leg, squeezed your thigh as he saw your eyes go misty at Summer’s words. BYE BYE, YOU COMPLETELY LOST ME HERE

THE NECKLACE???AHHHHH CUTIE🫠

“Huh, would you look at that…” Mason spoke with an air of mischief. “Mistletoe.” CHEEKY

“I’m so in love with you,” you breathed, nudging his nose with yours.

Mason beamed, eyes sparkling as he looked down at you. “I’m so in love with you,” he repeated your words. “And even though it isn’t how you planned your Christmas to go, I’m glad you’re here today.” I AM MELTING GIRLLLLL

Mason pressed his lips to your forehead, holding your body close to his. “You don’t have to thank me, angel. I love getting to love you. It’s as easy as breathing for me.” OMG BESTIE THIS WAS SO SWEET

BESTIE

WOW

WOW WOW

AS I SAID IN THE REBLOG PT.1 OF THIS WAS WHAT MADE ME START FOLLOWING YOU AND OMG I’VE BEEN DREAMING OF A PART 2

THIS WAS SO CUTE AND SOFT

MASON IS A SWEETHEART 

HER FAMILY IS PROPER SHIT AND WE DON’T LIKE THEM AT ALL

SUMMER IS A CUTIE, WHEN SHE CALLED HER AUNTIE I MELTED COMPLETELY

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS, THIS WAS PERFECTION

CAN’T WAIT TO READ MORE WORKS OF RT FROM YOU NEXT YEAR🩷🩷

i forgot to post this a couple weeks ago but THANK YOU ANGEL!!!!!! this was so so sweet 🥹 your feedback means the absolute world to me!!!

[alisbackalleybbq]

Hands Chapter 4

@bravosierra6

A/N: Dr. Jack Nicoletti's face claim is Milo Ventimiglia. This is probably a really bad chapter but I got stuck with where to go with this chapter. Plus, I've been super sick with either Covid or Influenza A but I feel like ya'll have been waiting long enough for something to be put out on this story. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE let me know if there's something you want to see next chapter.

TW: Language and inaccurate medical stuff

“Mija,” Manny sighed as he followed the ambulance to the hospital in his truck.  “What the hell was that back there?”

Gabriela matched her father’s sigh.  “How was I supposed to know she’s a doctor?”  She crossed her arms over her chest.

“It was more than that.  You were acting irrationally.  It’s not like you.  What is going on?” Manny implored.

Gabriela rubbed her forehead.  “I don’t know what happened.  My mind just stopped working and the only thing I could focus on was getting that woman out of the way.”

“You know who you sound like right now?”  Manny glanced at her.

“Who?”  Gabriela asked quietly, tears welling in her eyes.

“Before I was sent to prison, that’s exactly what would happen to me.  I couldn’t think straight, I couldn’t stop myself.  All I could do was hurt whoever had made me mad.  You need to get control of this, Gabriela.  I don’t want you ending up like me.”  Manny put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. 

“I’m not going to end up like you, Dad.”  Gabriela snapped.  “I had one, one, moment of anger.  Like I said, I didn’t know she was a doctor.  I was focused on the patient.”

“Is that all you were focused on?”  Manny questioned.

“What does that mean?”  Gabriela challenged.

“I’m not blind, you’ve been hanging around Three Rock a lot more.  Especially with Bode.  Is there something going on between the two of you?”  Manny was done playing games; he wanted answers.

“No, there’s not.”  Gabriela snapped.

“But you want there to be.”  Manny sighed.  Gabby nodded silently.  “It can never be, Gabs.  He’s a married man.”

Gabriela nodded as thoughts swirled in her head.  Bode never mentioned his wife before.  Arizona had never been to Three Rock before a few weeks ago.  How much of a marriage could they really have?

---------------------------------------------------------------------

“Lil,” Arizona answered her ringing phone as she paced the ER waiting room.

“Dean said you’re back in Wastewater.”  Lilith grumped.

Arizona pinched the bridge of her nose.  “Not right now, Lil.  I’m in the middle of something.”

“It better not be him.”  Lilith snapped.

“Jesus Christ,” Arizona sighed.  “You think I’d fall back into bed with him so quickly after all the pain he’s caused me?”

“Yes,” Lilith answered simply.

“Fair,” Arizona agreed.  “But no, it’s not that.”  Arizona listened to the overhead system as a doctor was paged to the emergency room.

“What the fuck was that?  Why does it sound like you’re in a hospital?”  Lilith was immediately on edge.

“...I am.”  Arizona hesitated.

“Why?”  Lilith demanded.

“One of the inmates had a heart attack while I was at Three Rock visiting Bode.  I want to make sure he’s okay.”  

“I’m surprised you didn’t perform open heart surgery with a sharp rock and twine.”  Lilith sighed a laugh.

“Too many witnesses.”  Arizona smiled to herself.

“When are you coming home?”  Lilith asked.

“I don’t know.”  Arizona said honestly.  “I don’t know if I know where home is anymore.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.”  

“Lilith, nothing is the same.  I don’t have a place to live-”

“Who’s fault is that?”  Lilith interjected.  “You could easily find a new place to live here.”

“I don’t even know if I’ll have a job when I get back.  I’m still on suspension for putting my hands on Doctor Knowles when I was working on Jesse.”

“That’ll get all cleared up.  All they have to do is talk to the nurses who’ll tell them that Doctor Knowles didn’t have control of the situation.  She was out of her depth and you saved her ass.  The fact that she even reported you is fucking ridiculous.”  Lilith said.

“I don’t know.  She’s an attending and I’m still just a resident.”  Arizona worried her thumbnail between her teeth.  

“What does Bode think of you being suspended?”  Lilith questioned.

Arizona sighed.  “He doesn’t know.”

“So much for starting off the reunion with the truth.”  Lilith rolled her eyes to herself.

“I know.  But so much has happened that I haven’t really had time.  I met his parents this morning and then the inmate had a heart attack…”

“Whoa!  You met his parents?  Is his dad still alive?”

Arizona laughed.  “Yes, asshole.”

“You can’t blame me for asking.  You always said if you met him, they’d never find his body.”  Lilith answered.

“They seem to have worked things out.  Vince seems genuinely sorry for what he put Bode through.  And if Bode’s forgiven him, maybe I should too.  Look, I gotta go.  The doctor is coming with an update.  I’ll call you back later.”  Arizona said.  “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Lilith sighed before disconnecting the call.

“How is he?”  Arizona asked the doctor.

“He’s in critical but stable condition.  They’re prepping him for surgery now.  He’s lucky you were there.”  The doctor clapped a hand on her shoulder.

“Thank you,”  Arizona sighed.

“You’re the one we should be thanking.”  The doctor flashed her a lop-sided smile.  

Arizona gave him a small smile back.  “Well, it’s what we do right?”

“What ‘we’ who do?”  He asked, confused.

“Doctors.  We save lives, right?”  Arizona shrugged.

“I’m Doctor Jack Nicoletti.”  He introduced himself.

“Doctor Arizona Telford.”  Arizona shook his hand.  She couldn’t help but blush.  The doctor was pretty cute.

Manny and Gabriela rounded the corner just in time to see the two doctors shaking hands and exchanging smiles.  Gabriela smiled to herself.  This might be the leverage she needed to finally get Bode to see that Arizona wasn’t right for him.

[soundsandnoises]

Like riding a bike or the best is yet to come: Kids In Glass Houses. 'Smart Casual' 15th Anniversary Tour. Review.

Kids In Glass Houses with The Nightmares.

O2 KENTISH TOWN FORUM, LONDON.

O2 ACADEMY BRISTOL

GREAT HALL, CARDIFF

It's been a week since Kids In Glass Houses shows and it's been truly 'a bitch of a week'. Double dose kind of one. Almost like it had to balance out the truly great one I had when I went to see KIGH in London, Bristol and Cardiff. Because THAT week, every time I screamed those words, especially on Saturday, they simply were not true. For the first time, in a very long time. Like magic. I guess three time's a charm.

To say it was an emotional week, it would be an understatement. It's been a whirlwind of emotions: from bawling my eyes like a idiot while singing 'Sunshine' (which was followed by 'The Best Is Yet to Come', which didn't help at all) on a very rainy Wednesday to tears of joy as I was going back home on Saturday and reading KIGH's after-show's photo caption 'BRB... MAKING A NEW ALBUM!' [spoilers!].

Nine years ago I thought I was singing some of those songs at their show for the last time. It was gloomy, it seemed their hearts were not in it anymore. The KIGH chapter came to an end. 'Well, we lied!' Aled seemed to be having the time of his life, back at it, going through 'Smart Casual' like hurricane. The joy, the electricity was back up and running on high voltage, sparkling between the band in their eyes, smiles and little comments. The “aged like fine wine” applied absolutely, the band seemed to be better than ever, their form sizzling, their performance on fire...

Funny how things tend to go full circle, or go yin/yang: an experience that made my year/extremely mentally exhausting work week, a very naïve relation from 2008 show, when KIGH supported Simple Plan in Poland, when I barely knew one song and wished I could know more/ singing every single one of the songs from 'Smart Casual' amazed how they have weathered the time and are still fresh, on point. The burnt-out and tired last shows v. rebirth celebrating the album that started it all. Magic.

15 years ago 'Smart Casual' came to be in a room at the estate, filled with fax machines... or something like that. And 15 years later it means so much to so many... Nothing's changed, yet everything is different (including the fact that Cardiff was 'the first PG Kids's show' [as in there were kids in the audience] so Aled had to mind his tongue, so he couldn't swear, which resulted in 'Flip' instead of 'Fuck' and one hashed out, I guess “Damn!” passed somehow, but hey, it was hard to hide the excitement. Can't blame him. It was sight to see, or hear, I guess, when the room was filled with the choir of voices carrying the tune. And cheering, constant, happy cheering, with every first note of every song (“they're cheering like they don't know what song comes next?!” said the girl next to me at the Bristol gig and I couldn't help but laugh, she was obviously right since it was 'Smart Casual' track listing, yet, I understood the cheering, it's nice to be excited every now and then, also: it seemed for once I wasn't the biggest grump – even though I wasn't at my best that night, all the bad went into that sad, sad poem I wrote that afternoon and so the only thing that was left for me to do was to fully immerse into the happiness of the live show). As much as I enjoyed Bristol gig, it seemed a bit off with, let's call them: technical issues. The sound at times was a bit off, especially during The Nighmares' show. The confetti seemed to misfire and half of it blew on the stage rather than spill at the crowd (not that I mind). Aled dropped his microphone, landed in the crowd, recovered the piece of equipment and mocked himself mercilessly for it (since he went against everyone's advice and got himself cordless mic he said he should have known better that he would do something like this and until Bristol it worked just fine). Hey, as long as it wasn't Cardi B/ 50 Cent sort of thing (and it wasn't) I bet fans were rather happy to have Aled jump onto the barrier.

To add to the 'off' vibe – a girl smacked me in the face, right after the show ended and KIGH were taking after show photo, she went through the crowd like a battering ram, just to be in the photo, since I showed fim resistance that was my reward. There was no black eye, just a crappy feeling, so it wasn't as bad. And the show kind of seemed rushed. 'Lilli Rose' was cut from the setlist. But, but it was still absolutely wonderful and emotional and crazy good.

And on Saturday, their homecoming gig their smiles were brighter than at the shows before, and even though again 'Lilli Rose' got the boot from the setlist it was still a perfect night. With all the gratitude (and Aled thanking their loved ones for putting up with them this past year), cheeky spelling (instead of 'play D.E.AD' crowd was supposed to chant 'A.L.E.D.' which seemed to work especially in Cardiff) and fun it made the 'Smart Casual' 15th anniversary shows fill to the brim with great memories.

I must say I'm impressed they managed to keep the 'making new album' surprise under the wraps and revealed it they way they did. Well played.

Setlist:

'Smart Casual'

Fisticuffs

Easy Tiger

Give Me What I Want

Saturday

Lovely Bones

Shameless

Girls

Good Boys Gone Rad

Dance All Night

Pillow Talk

Raise Hell

Church Tongue

Encore:

Sunshine

The Best Is Yet to Come

Lilli Rose

Peace

Youngblood (Let It Out)

Matters at All

Few words about the opening band: The Nightmares.

Black roses and candles darkened the stage and set the mood for the support act – The Nightmares. Noir and goth aesthetic was laced and bound with synth filled indie rock that roared through the venue. Was it emo? New wave? Dark pop? Punk? Well, it was a mix of everything, packed with twisted, dark lyrics. Not something I expected, but something that was a great start of the evening.

I enjoyed it very much. They've just released their debut album 'Séance' and you can listen to it here.

[sworntolight-a]

‘Haunt Me’ for Mako and pre-canon Takeru where he keeps an eye on her so she wouldn’t get into trouble?

~~~Drabble Call! 

~~Haunt me: a drabble about my character watching over yours Takeru watching over Mako pre-canon

Mako sighed, fingers tapping against her thighs.. This was ridiculous; how long was he going to stand there? And for that matter, did he really think she hadn't noticed him following her in the first place? He wasn't exactly stealthy, and the yellow-detailed white of his outfit made him stand out like a sore thumb amongst a sea of teens in uniform for most of the day. On top of that, he'd been silent the entire time – He had to know how creepy that was!

But on some level, she was finding, she actually appreciated the fact he was there. The local bullies and gangs had taken to punching first and asking questions later where she was involved, though given she often snapped at them and put herself between them and their targets... She honestly wasn't sure she could say she was surprised. What else could they do when they had a stubborn girl in their faces, letting their victims escape and calling them out on how ridiculous and jerkish they were being? Besides, it wasn't like she wasn't used to fighting when she'd been doing it for years!

And yet, having Takeru nearby meant the fights were, thankfully, short and quick. Nobody wanted to get into things once they saw him, and it meant she could both help out and avoid getting herself punched into the hospital... Though not without a disapproving look from the taller boy, present still on his face when she glanced in his direction. He didn't like her. Thought she was stupid and annoying. And he was still there.

“If Kiku asked you to watch out for me, I'll be fine,” she called out, fully aware of the irritation practically dripping off his form, even with the distance between them. If given the choice, he'd probably throw her into the sea and leave her there, of this she was certain, so what other reason could he have for hovering about the other end of the bridge?

Or for giving her a glare that would freeze just about anyone in their tracks, her included. Annoying Takeru was the last thing she'd wanted to do, especially when she was keeping an eye on him for Kiku and refused to put their mutual friend in the middle, but that was easier said than done when calling out to him seemed to make him wish he could shove her off the pier. Er... Again. What did he have against talking to people, anyway? “Homura-san?

“Kiku told me to.”

Wasn't that what she'd just asked- Bah, there was no point in arguing with him. Takeru was even more stubborn than she was, after all, and any argument in reply would just turn into another fight she didn't care to have at the moment, so what was the point in trying? “Kiku worries too much.”

On the other end of the bridge, Takeru shrugged his shoulders, the gesture slow but more than enough to give her a good look at how he moved. As much as she hated to admit it, that was something she liked about him; the way he moved his body, almost like he'd had training in... Something, she couldn't quite figure out what. Talking with Takeru normally was out of the question and she didn't dare pry into his life through Kiku, which meant simply trying to figure it out on her own. Whatever it was, it was something that had her loving how he fought, how he moved, the spark it brought to his eyes... And she hated herself for feeling any of it to begin with.

Burying her urge to ask, Mako slipped her hands behind her back, casting him a small smile. “You can go home. I'll be fine, I promise. We'll just tell Kiku I went right home after school.”

“....I don't listen to you.”

He didn't listen to anyone, a chirp she kept in her head rather than speaking it aloud and all but asking him to punch her. “So you're just going to follow me around?”

“....”

“That's a bit...”

“Shut up and go home. It's almost dark.”

You shouldn't be on this side of the pier after dark.

If she didn't know any better, she'd think him concerned.

Heaving another sigh, the caramel-haired teen turned on her heel, heading in the direction of her apartment building. No more than a moment later, the familiar sound of her 'guardian's' sneakers on the cement picked up once more; he fully planned on following her until she was home, she realized, smile softening. Good... Despite her complaints and attempts to get him to go home, she appreciated having him close by. Takeru, for all his faults and stubbornness, was still warmth and safety, and she refused to tell him how much better she felt having him there.

Instead, she laced her fingers together behind her back, keeping her gaze on the path ahead. Just keep moving forward... How ironic that she felt like she could with him so close. “Hey... Thanks.”

“Hn.”

Good, he didn't want her to explain... She wasn't sure she could, on any front. Still... Did he have to be so quiet...?

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Three’s A Crowd

Summary: The reader and Jensen accidentally forget Jared’s first anniversary with them. It’s not a huge deal but Jared reveals something that leads to a fight and threatens to break up everyone for good...

Pairing: Jared x reader x Jensen

Square: Miscommunication

Word Count: 3,300ish

Warnings: language, angst, eventual fluff

A/N: Written for @supernatural-jackles​ Tell Me A Story Bingo!

______

“Good morning,” said Jared, bright and chipper as he wandered into the bedroom. Jensen groaned beside you as you pulled your pillow over your head. “Aren’t you two all adorable when you’re grumpy.”

“I am always adorable,” mumbled Jensen.

“Jare. Shh,” you said. Your pillow was ripped away and you rolled into Jensen’s back to hide. It was quiet for a while, the sound of a door slamming jump making both you and Jensen flinch.

“We’re the grumpy ones. Right,” he said.

“Jensen. Isn’t today the eighth?” you asked, laying back and staring at the ceiling. 

“Something was today…” he said. He rolled in bed and turned to face you. “I have no idea what.”

“I know,” you said. He poked your cheek with his finger, playing for a moment before you sat up. “Jens. Anniversary.”

“Hm?”

“It’s our anniversary. A year ago we got together with Jared,” you said. Jensen stared at you before he groaned. “Oh shit.”

“I could have sworn it was the eighteenth,” said Jensen.

“Shit,” you said. You climbed out of bed and walked downstairs, Jared watching the morning news. You walked over and gave him a hug from behind, Jared stiff underneath it. “Morning. Sorry for being grumps.”

“It’s fine,” he said, grabbing your hand. You rested your head on his back for a few moments, hearing Jensen come out to the kitchen and make himself a cup of coffee. “So. I guess you two didn’t actually remember, did you.”

“I’m the one that forgot the anniversary,” said Jensen, sipping on his coffee. 

“She did too,” said Jared.

“Sorry,” you said. 

“It’s okay. I um, I did want to talk to you guys about something though,” he said.

“What’s that?” you asked.

“Y/N,” said Jensen, climbing up onto the balcony half an hour later. You wiped off your face, Jensen pulling himself over the railing.

“Don’t do that you idiot. Do you know how dangerous that is?” you said, your back to him.

“Well you kinda ran out here and locked the door behind you so,” said Jensen, taking a seat on the lounge chair beside you. “Honey, Jared-”

“Hates me. This morning was the last straw apparently,” you said. 

“Hey. He forgot our anniversary a few months ago. It doesn’t matter. What does matter is the fact that he never said he wanted to breakup,” said Jensen.

“You aren’t dating him. I am dating both of you. You two are just best friends. It’s different and you both know it.”

“All he said was he maybe likes a girl.”

“Yeah. In case your dumbass doesn’t understand that, it means he wants to breakup,” you snapped. Jensen narrowed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Do not yell at me,” he said. “You love two people. Maybe Jared loves two people too.”

“No, Jensen. No. You know what happens when that happens? He goes off into a new relationship and I get upset and that will bug you so you’ll find a new girl that you love and then I’m alone in the middle and you both break up…” you said, cocking your head. “Why were you not surprised when he brought it up? This Gen girl?”

“I thought they were just friends,” said Jensen. “They are just friends right now.”

“So you didn’t tell me your best friend had a crush on someone else,” you said.

“I am not his keeper and I don’t tattletale on-”

“What other secrets are there that I don’t know about?” you asked. “What about this De girl that introduced them?”

“Are you trying to start a fight because you’re doing a hell of job,” said Jensen as he stood up.

“Who is De?” you asked.

“My friend. I worked with her years ago. I bumped into her recently,” he said. You stared at him and saw his hard face up. His lying face. You scowled and he sighed. “Maybe I used to have a crush on her.”

“Do you still have one?”

“Seriously?”

“I can’t believe this is happening,” you said, putting your head in your hands. “I have dated you for two years and Jared for one and that’s it. It’s done, just like that.”

“Y/N, no one said-”

“Am I just not enough anymore?” you asked. Jensen stared at you and let out a dry laugh.

“You know I thought that a lot when you told me how you felt about Jared but I never said it to your face because I was afraid of the answer. I think I always knew the answer. If I was enough, he never would have come into this. The fact you are turning around and saying I potentially can’t have, Jared and I both, can’t have what you get everyday for the past year? I never realized how selfish you are.”

“The only reason I let Jared in was because you love him too. It’s a different love but it’s love. It wasn’t a stranger. I never would have let someone like that in and forced you into that. But it sounds like I did force you into something,” you said. “I just never knew how you actually felt.”

You went past him and inside, storming over to the bedroom closet and grabbing a duffel bag, shoving some clothes inside. The fact Jensen was dead silent as he followed you in was more than enough of an answer.

“What is going on?” asked Jared as he came inside. You brushed past and went to the bathroom, grabbing some of your things and tossing them in the bag. “Y/N.”

“I think our girlfriend is breaking up with us,” said Jensen, his voice cold. “Fine. That’s her choice. I’m on board with it. I was never good enough so I’d rather have only wasted two years of my life instead of more.”

“Guys. Y/N,” said Jared as you dragged the zipper along the corners of the bag. “You like two people. How-”

“Because you two are best friends you idiot. You were not strangers. You’re both idiots,” you said, slinging the bag over your shoulder. “I will come back for the rest of my stuff later. We’re done. Jensen’s right. This was obviously a mistake and I obviously hurt you both and wasn’t what either of you needed. Please, just don’t talk to me anymore.”

Ten minutes later you were on the road with no idea where you were driving to.

“Well hey, shortie,” you heard at the hotel bar a few hours later. You turned around and saw Alex, groaning when you remembered there was a convention in town this weekend. “Hitting the booze a little early, don’t you think?”

“Life is shit, Alex. I’m gonna drink,” you said, ordering another.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on?” he asked.

“Why? Jensen and Jared are your friends, not me. I’m just the slutty girlfriend that wanted them both,” you said, knocking back your nearly empty drink, taking the other one when it was handed over.

“Uh...you are my friend and I’m assuming something happened,” he said.

“Ya think,” you said, taking another sip.

“Okay. Considering it’s like not even noon and you’re very close to getting plastered, why don’t we stop drinking and go talk, okay?” he said.

An hour later you were perfectly sober, staring at the ceiling as you lay on Alex’s hotel bed.

“Hey,” he said, popping back in the room. “I got you some tacos.”

“Thanks. Not really hungry,” you said. He sat down next to you and started to eat from one of the containers before you rolled and put your back to him.

“From what you said, it sounds like you’re all just being stupid,” said Alex. “No offense.”

“Yeah but can you see my point?” you asked.

“Yes. But I can also see theirs. If you have a problem with them dating someone else too, which it doesn’t sound like they are even, but if you do, you have to tell them that,” said Alex.

“I do,” you said quietly, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m a hypocrite.”

“That’s not true. You dated two people that care a lot about each other, probably as much about each other as they do you,” he said. “It is a little different.”

“I can’t go back. It’s done, Alex,” you said. He shifted and you felt his hand run over your head. “Jensen was insecure about it the whole time but kept his mouth shut. I can’t put him through that or Jared for that matter. It doesn’t matter. I was never fair to either one of them. It’s not fair to love two people at the same time.”

“People do it, Y/N. I really think you should talk-”

“No Alex,” you said quietly. “It’s over. They like other people. They both deserve better than me.”

“I’m only in town a few days but you can crash in my room if you want,” he said.

“Thanks, Alex.”

Three Months Later

You hadn’t heard a word from either one of them since that weekend and had finally felt like maybe you were moving on. Your new apartment was pretty decent. There was no more flying all the time or staying up late for someone to get home. You weren’t angry with yourself all the time anymore.

You even started to run again, find a healthy outlet for your pent up emotions.

Until you were running at the park and saw Jensen with a redhead, the pair all smiles and laughing. You pulled your hat down and sprinted past them on the path. You heard him pause but you kept running, far too fast and before you knew it you had to pause and slow down.

“Y/N,” he called behind you.

“Athletic motherfucker,” you mumbled under your breath, panting as you tried to walk away but got a stitch in your side.

“Hey,” he said as he caught up.

“What,” you said, your back to him, brim pulled down over your eyes. Your side hurt and you winced.

“Are you okay?” he said, walking in front of you.

“I’m fine,” you said, keeping your head down, forcing yourself forward. He grabbed your chin and lifted your head up.

“Why are you crying?” he asked quietly.

“Because apparently I’m not as over you or Jared as I thought I was five minutes ago,” you said. You pushed past him and sniffled, hand on your side as you walked.

“You broke up with us in case you forgot.”

“You never wanted to be in that kind of relationship in the first place!” you said, glad no one was around to hear you. “You said you were afraid-”

“I was afraid to ask the question. It didn’t mean I didn’t very quickly figure out the answer. If I had a problem, I would have ended it,” he said. You stared at him and swallowed. “Is that why you broke up with me? Because I was bitchy in a fight?”

“Maybe you and Jared have the capacity to love someone while someone else loves them and I’m very happy you do but I don’t. I just don’t. I can’t be happy knowing...I’m happy you knew that you were more than enough, Jensen. WIth or without Jared, you were more than enough. You never made me feel like I was missing something. But no matter what you tell me, I would never believe that I was enough for you, either of you, if you loved someone else too. Some days I didn’t even think I was enough when it was just us three. You both deserve to be with someone that makes you happy,” you said, spotting the red head start to catch up. “I’m sorry for interrupting your date.”

“That’s my cousin. She dyed her hair. You guys met at Thanksgiving once,” he said. You looked past and she gave a concerned wave towards you that you returned. “I’m not dating anyone. Me or Jared.”

“You said-”

“I said I maybe had a crush and that’s all Jared’s turned out to be too. He never even went on a date. Neither one of us have,” he said.

“You still had a crush.”

“So did you,” he said. “On Jared.”

“I know I did. I’m sorry I’m not okay with doing that for you,” you said. You tried to leave again but his hand caught your arm. 

“Jared and I aren’t the only ones that deserve to be happy you know,” he said. “I know you. I know when you’re struggling.”

“Your point?”

“If you don’t want to talk to me, if you don’t like me anymore, that’s your decision. But there’s no self-punishment anymore. Before we were even a thing we decided on that. Please stop doing that to yourself,” he said.

“Why do you care?”

“Because I still love you, dumbass,” he said with a smile. “Take care of yourself for me.”

“I need to go,” you said quietly. He dropped your arm and you took a deep breath. “Take care of yourself too, Jensen.”

“What am I doing,” you mumbled to yourself later that afternoon. There was movement behind the door before you could leave and soon it was opening. “Hi Jare.”

“Hey,” he said, staring for a second before he moved the door back to let you in. “Come in.”

“Thanks,” you said. “How’s the old house?”

“It’s good. Jensen’s got his space again. I got mine,” said Jared, forcing a smile.

“I bumped into him at the park earlier. I uh…” you said, closing your eyes.

“I’m sorry. I was the one that brought it up with Gen and...I understand why it was different,” he said.

“You seem ironically more okay with the way things ended than Jensen,” you said. Jared smirked and shook his head.

“I wasn’t okay with it but you two were together before I came in. I’ve always understood sharing you with someone was part of the deal,” he said. 

“You doing okay?” you asked.

“Some days are better than others. Busy with Walker quite a bit,” he said. “Training for another marathon. Trying to keep myself occupied. What about you? You look like you’re running again.”

“I am,” you said, giving him a smile.

“You’re looking a little thin,” he said. You dropped it and he scowled. “We both know how you can get. You don’t eat enough and you workout like crazy.”

“I was sad. I’m fine,” you said. 

“Even if we aren’t dating anymore, I still care about you,” he said.

“You both still care,” you said, shaking your head. “Of course you do.”

“I never stopped loving you for a second,” he said. You bit your bottom lip and he looked over your head. “I never should have said a word about Gen.”

“Then why did you?”

“Because I had a crush and I felt guilty and I thought maybe I’m like you and I would want more than one person at once too. But I’m not. I know I’m not,” he said.

“Jared. You’re allowed to fall out of love with someone.”

“I didn’t fall out of love with you,” he said. He went past and into his kitchen, grabbing a beer from his fridge. “It didn’t take very long at all to figure out why I had a crush, Y/N. Not once you left. It wasn’t because I didn’t love you anymore. It’s because I thought you loved him more than me. I got scared. So I thought maybe if I could have two people too, I would forget about the fact you-”

“If I loved either one of you more than the other, we would have never started this. If I loved you more than Jensen or Jensen more than you, I would only love that person, only date that person. I dated you both because I love you both equally. But we’re all too insecure to go back to it. It’s okay. We tried and it didn’t work. I’m sorry I hurt you,” you said. You headed out the front door and popped into your car before he could speak again.

Three days later you were coming back from a run again, through a different part of the park, only to find Jared and Jensen leaned against your car in the parking lot.

“How the hell did you two-”

“We still have that GPS app on all our phones, remember?” said Jared. You sighed and crossed your arms, kicking at the ground. “Us three need to talk.”

“I thought I made it clear-”

“You still love us and we still love you. Jared and I talked. We talked a lot before this but especially since a few days ago. We both kept our mouths shut when we shouldn’t have. It was our mistake. We won’t do that in the future,” said Jensen.

“We were both afraid of losing you so we started to push you away when that’s not what either of us want. There’s no more you and Jensen or you and me. It’s all three of us. One anniversary. One date night. If someone wants their space, they can take their space. We don’t want to lose you. We already have for a few months and it’s really sucked,” said Jared.

“What do you want Jensen?” you asked. He was quiet, staring at the ground.

“I miss getting shoved to the edge of the bed and having you two steal my covers,” he said, giving you a small smile. “I miss you. I miss us. I want us three to be how we were.”

“It can’t be how it was,” you said.

“It’ll be better,” said Jared.

“What do you say?” asked Jensen. 

“Alright,” you said with a smile. “But let’s take it slow, okay?”

Six Months Later

“Good morning Jared!” you said, both you and Jensen causing Jared to pop up in bed, his hair all over the place. Jensen laughed as you pulled Jared to his feet, pushing him out towards the kitchen.

“Wha?” he mumbled.

“It’s our six month anniversary today, cutie,” you said, giving him a kiss. “I made breakfast.”

“Oh, you did?” said Jared, glancing to Jensen.

“I helped,” he chuckled.

“Oh, thank God,” said Jared. You whacked his arm, waving for Jensen to take a seat at the counter. “So I didn’t realize we would be celebrating today.”

“Neither did I until I heard her struggling out here to make breakfast,” said Jensen.

“Well I wanted to do something nice for my boys,” you said, giving them each a kiss before you took your own seat. 

“Thank you,” said Jared.

“You’re welcome,” said Jensen, smirking before he started to eat. You toyed with your food a moment, feeling both of their gazes on you. “You okay?”

“I love both of you a lot is all,” you said.

“Us too, honey. Us too.”

_________

[bellamyblake]

If Christmas is Bellamy’s holiday, then Halloween is Clarke’s because she goes absolutely nuts about it.

She starts planning for it on September 1st and Bellamy calls her crazy but she just sticks her tongue out at him and says “We’re going to have the best costumes this year, you’ll see!”

“We always do. Our friends are dumb. Jasper and Monty dress as salt and pepper or the H20 formula. It’s not like we’re in a real competition here, princess.” he says rolling his eyes and sitting on bed with her while she stabs the keyboards of her PC angrily, looking for the best out of the best for this year.

“Oh, shush!  You know how much the kids love our Halloween party.”

“If by the kids you mean Monty, Jasper, Harper, Miller and the rest of our 20 year old friends then sure...call them kids.”

“Your grumpy 70 year old man attitude just confirms my statement.” Clarke says again as she continues staring at the screen “So does you constantly taking care of them and checking if they’re alright.”

“I don’t do that.” he opposes as he lays down and stretches out his tired legs. It’s been a hard day and his back really hurt “Also, I may be old fashioned but I’m right.”

“You’re just an old sofite. You’re...the old man sitting on his porch waving at the kids with his cane when they stomp over his perfectly green grass.”

“Hey, it’s not easy keeping up a garden!” he protests and she strokes his curly head. She knew how hard he worked-a construction job, a gardening one in the rich mansions in the Sanctum district and substituting in the local school when he could. All because of her, Octavia and his sick mom who needed treatment.”Those kids should know better.”

“Maybe we can dress you as an old man, give you a cane and all-”

“Oh, shush it, princess.” she smiles and lets him roll over, feeling his hand move over the ever so growing bump that had their little baby boy kicking inside, making his presence known. Bellamy smiles and talks to him in Tagalog, his dad’s tongue which Clarke always loved. “Brace yourself, son...your mom’s gonna put you in a silly costume a year from now and you’re going to have to take it, just like me.”

“He’ll love it. And he’ll look cute!” Clarke opposes but smiles fondly at the way Bellamy’s rubbing her bump, all happy and mesmerized as if it was the greatest thing he’s ever seen. She could only imagine how he’d look like when he actually held the baby in his arms. “Plus, you love Halloween, you just pretend you don’t.”

“I would like it...if I could just wear my own costume.”

“No, no way! That Ceaser-Neron-whatever Roman emperor piece of sheet won’t do now or any year from now.”

“It’s a tunic.”

“It’s your old teenage bedroom bed spread and god knows how much sex you’ve had on it already.” he scoffs and rolls on his back but keeps his hand on her bump.

“Accusing me like this...in front of our son.” he pretends to be mad.

“Oh, please, you know I’m right. You look good in everything but that. I’d even take you naked.”

“That I know you will.” she slaps his chest and he ouches from it.”Fine, fine...you pick the costumes, princess.”

“And I will...old man.” he smiles and closes his eyes as he falls asleep next to her with his hand still wrapped over her belly. The sweetest thing is their son doesn’t kick too much when he feels his father’s presense there, it’s like he’s calmer and that helps Clarke too. 

They end up rocking their suits even with Clarke’s bump which in fact gains them more points because she just looks so cute. A year from now Gus, their son is dressed in a sweet pumpkin suit, curiously staring at himself and the bright orange color while Bellamy grumps for looking ridiculous. Five years from that and Gus’ little sister Cassie joins in and they’re rocking Frozen with Clarke as Anna, Bellamy as Christoph, Gus as Olaf and Cassie as Anna by her choice. 

It becomes clear then that Bellamy and Gus may not enjoy Helloween but the Griffin-Blake girls did and they were the ones who were going to set the rules for this.