#do you think he ever thought any of those things would happen to him?

[vrystalius]

Not saying “I love you“ back to the Squid game men.

How will they react if you don‘t say it back? In what scenario would they not say it back to you?

Pairing: The Recruiter, Thanos, Nam-gyu, Dae-ho, Gi-hun, In-ho x gn!reader

Summary: Them not saying “I love you“, their reaction to you not saying “I love you“

Genre: fluff, a lil bit of angst sprinkled on top

(Pre-Squid game)

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

Gong Yoo // The Recruiter // The Salesman

♡— Him not saying I love you…

It barely ever happens, really. He adores everything about you, from your face, voice, body and the ground you walk on; that man is ready to worship you like a devoted follower would to the most merciful goddess. Therefor he would always be aware of how to make your day a little better, even if it‘s just a small “I love you” or a gentle kiss here and there.

The first thing you hear from him in the morning is a groggy voice mumbling a small “Good morning love...” into your ear while warm kisses were trailed down your back.

While standing in the kitchen and searching the fridge for any signs of a tasty breakfast, a small “I love you, I‘ll be back later!“ would echo slightly through the apartment as the front door closed.

Once, he did forget to say his usual I love you on the way out. He thought about how he possibly could forget? You‘re probably overthinking everything now and think what you might‘ve done wrong or do to offend him. You didn‘t, though! He was just too caught up in perfecting his appearance because his damn hair refused to obey and submit to his meticulous styling.

The poor man was almost scared to come home. As some sort of peace offering, he bought some of your favorite take-out food alongside some dessert, flowers and a new bracelet he thought you might like. Anything to try and make you know that he does really love you.

“Apologies, it completely slipped my mind. It will never happen again my sunshine. I love you.”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you back…

His face may be neutral and his expressions calculated but his features soften up immensely when you show even an ounce of affection. His smirk shifts into a dreamy smile, the crinkles around his mouth shifting and becoming bigger, his eyes twinkling just a little. He just can’t suppress when you even look at him.

Your kisses and words energise him, gift him life, so whenever you don’t give him that little boost of dopamine, he gets visibly more tense in a way.

The silence that followed after his usual “I love you my darling, I’ll be back later!” was almost eerie to him. He stuck his head back into the kitchen to check if you even heard him. You glanced back at him for a moment and gave your husband a dismissive head nod. So you did hear him?

Silently, he left the apartment and went on with his usual day during that time of the year. For some reason, today he is especially looking forward to slap his elders for loosing a damn children’s game. His face remained neutral and had his usual smirk on his face, but deep inside, he’s offended, confused, worried, stressed; all the negative emotions someone can feel after their spouse doesn’t reincorporate ones affection.

Do you want a divorce? Because hell no, he’d never let you go no matter how hard you

But once he got a little text message on his phone that read a simple: “Need cuddles in bed later pls. Got some snacks too. Love you.”, all of his worries washed away in an instant. You probably were still too sleepy to answer this morning.

A smile spread over his face as he thought about slipping into your arms tonight. Isn’t it ridiculous how he melt like putty in your hands?

“You forgot something this morning and it did worry me a lot. But it doesn’t matter, it’s silly anyway.”

Thanos // Su-bong // Player 230

♡— Him not saying I love you…

It’s actually quite rare to hear Thanos say “I love you” word for word. He still feels awkward committing himself to the relationship you have and those three magic words feel so heavy on his tongue, so he’ll rephrase them to suit his level of comfort. “Love ya”, “Thanos loves you” and “Me too” are his ways to dodge the action to reincorporate those sweets words you shower him with.

Thanos only really says “I love you” if you two are alone, sober and you holding him in your arms. To be cradled by someone he admires, cares and loves so much makes him want to cry for some reason, but he suppresses those emotions and instead buries his face in your shoulder as your hand soothingly runs up and down his back.

Those are the times you hear a small “I love you…” being mumbled against your warm skin.

So quiet it’s almost unnoticeable, yet it was there. You know Su-bong needs time to get used to everything, so you’ll settle with a small audio message-rap in reply to your usual “I love you” text message.

“Back to the kitty ‘cause she kinda pretty, I can’t stop looking at her ti- ti- ti-face.. Anyways, thinking of you babygirl. Iloveyatoo.” (You barely caught him saying this the way how quietly he mumbled it into the mic)

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you back…

It’s fine. It’s cool. You don’t have to reassure him every day that you love him, it’s totally fine. You still love him like you did the day before.

It causes a deep panic inside of Thanos when you don’t give him his usual “I love you” text in the morning after he had woken up. He kept checking his phone like a madman, while he was brushing his teeth, peeking his arm and head out of the shower in the middle of shampooing, staring at his text messages while microwaving himself an convenience store meal. Nothing.

Not wanting to reach out first and appear clingy, he decided to write you like he is not having a full blown eternal panic attack. A small voice message here, a picture of his food there, a selfie from the bottom to show off his double chin, anything really.

You replied like normal but still, his eyes searched for the three key words. I. Love. You.

Thanos doesn’t want to admit to himself or to anyone for that matter that your calls, texts, hell, you coming over is like the most addictive drug to him. And he had his share of all kinds of colourful drugs.

His foot was nervously tapping the ground while his finger kept ringing your poor doorbell until you were forced to answer. He gave you a close look up and down, his lips formed into a pout of sorts.

“You okay? You didn’t text me you love me this morning. It’s totally cool and all but like… do you want to break up with me or something?”

Nam-gyu // Player 124

♡— Him not saying I love you…

Similar to Thanos, at first, Nam-gyu barely ever told you how much he loved you, liked you even. He just assumed you already knew and his actions were enough. A small side hug there and ruffling your hair here had to be enough for the rest of the week anyway.

He is guarded, afraid of commitment and to be frank in belief that you’re using him for the longest of time. Maybe you’re just “dating” him to get access to high-end drugs, all kinds of clubs or whatever else reason there is there to date him but for love.

You had to say those three magic words first for him to get comfortable with the thought that you are actually just want to date and love him. It came to him in the middle of a night shift at a random club he was supposed to promote. A moment of enlightenment.

Nam-gyu hid in a bathroom stall with his phone and ignored whatever the couple was doing next door, writing you a whole paragraph about what he was thinking, feeling, before deleting everything again because he thought he’d come off as some kind of pussy if he’d sent that.

His first time telling you how much he loved you was at your place. A casual evening watching some random movie you picked out while being arms deep in a bag of chips and dressed like a homeless person, Nam-gyu was staring up at you as if you were the most beautiful person in the universe even during this ungraceful moment of yours, admiring you in silence until finally…

“I love you.”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you…

Did he fuck up again? Do or say something wrong? Don’t you love him anymore? Was there someone else?? His thoughts go ballistic as he stared at the screen of his phone with a deadpan-expression, trying to shake the crippling fear and nervousness off while looking nonchalant.

Nam-gyu’s finger kept hovering over the call button to check on you in case something happened because there could be a whole other person talking to him by how there were no affirmations at all.

He doesn’t want to appear clingy or too attached to you as that may scare you off or even disgust you, so Nam-gyu’s casually mention that one time you didn’t say “I love you” while fidgeting with his ring, trying to appear indifferent about it while intensely watching your facial expression shift to try and detect if you’re lying about your reasoning or not.

Your boyfriend is afraid to not be good enough, too much, too little. Your little affirmations give him reassurance, every day a little more until he’s full convinced that you do really, really love him.

“Hey, uhhh. Did you forget anything today?… No? You sure? Mkay.”

Dae-ho // Player 388

♡— Him not saying I love you…

Never happens. Either he is dead and not able to reply to you or already said it multiple times throughout the day. Dae-ho has separation anxiety and gets nervous when he doesn’t have you in line of his sight or not around him in general, that’s why he always tells you how much he loves you whenever he can.

Off to the bathroom? I love you. Bringing the trash out? I love you. Getting dressed? You’re gorgeous and I love you. You could be simply existing and Dae-ho would bury his face in your neck and mumble a soft I love you into your warm skin, his lips planting a soft kiss here and there.

Dae-ho is just a little scared about saying his usual affirmation in front of his family, mostly his father. He’s a very affectionate and physical man but he still wants to look like the tough-marine-son his dad wants to see.

His sisters know better though, they see how their brother’s eyes twinkle in delight when you help his mom out in the kitchen with the dinner.

He does make it up to you after coming home though. Your boyfriend will stuff the leftovers his mom gave him into the microwave and usher to you made yourself comfortable on the couch while he makes some preparations to completely pamper you for the rest of the evening.

Sometimes Dae-ho’ll even try to flirt a little but he’s still a little awkward in that department.

“Hey, do you want some snacks with that? A drink? O-Or am I enough of a snack…?”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you…

Every time Dae-ho tells you that he loves you, you always reply with equal enthusiasm. How could you not? That golden retriever of a man gets that almost childish smile of his whenever you kiss his cheek or just tell him that he looks handsome today.

Once, you tested how he’d react when you don’t give him his hourly dose of dopamine by deflecting or ignoring his touches.

As his arms securely snaked around your waist and gently pulled you against his torso, you paid him no mind and continued to stir the ramen in the food container. He watched the noodles move in circles and gave your waist a gentle poke, trying to pull your attention to him. Dae-ho’s eyes slowly dimmed and the edges of his smile turned downwards.

The silence made him seriously nervous. You could feel his rapidly increasing heartbeat drum against your back.

“Hey… is everything okay? Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry. Can you talk to me?…”

Gi-hun // Player 456 (post s1)

♡— Him not saying I love you…

Gi-hun always reassures you of his love, even during arguments. He wants you to know that he cherishes and loves you for the rest of his life and that you are his everything. Whenever he doesn’t say I love you, something must’ve happened.

He has been missing for a whole week and you had no idea where your boyfriend went. Gi-hun didn’t leave a note, a voice mail, no nothing!

And after he returned and suddenly began giving you expensive gifts, the same boyfriend that used to ask you for money to get himself an convenience store dinner, now began buying you new headphones, bracelet and whatever else you even eyed.

It was nice, sure, but you were more worried about his mental state. He was paranoid and quiet, kept checking his whole body for some kind of tracker and barely ever spoke what was on his mind. Gi-hun began having panic attacks and you were barely able to leave his side because of how terrified he was to leave you alone.

He barely touched you, gave you kisses or affection. He changed after whatever happened during that week he went missing.

While running your fingers through his hair, trying to make him fall asleep after being awake for two days straight, he sleepily stared up at you through his dyed-red hair. His voice was quiet, broken almost.

“I’m sorry. Please… know that I love you. I love you so much.. Don’t leave me, please… please...”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you back…

Your boyfriend called out to you but you didn’t quite hear what he said, so you replied with an “yeah!” and just hoped that that’s an appropriate response to whatever he tried to tell or ask you. It wasn’t.

Gi-hun stood there for a couple of moments, waiting on your reply to yelling “I love you!” across the whole apartment. When nothing came, he didn’t call out to you again. You were probably busy with something or don’t want him with your right now, he gets that.

Later though, thoughts of self-doubt began to cook up inside his mind. As he bit all his nails to shreds he overthought about how you had enough of him now. Maybe you are falling out of love now after how the death games fucked up his mind and body. You’re surely fed up with his paranoia and secretive behaviour, how much he has been obsession over finding a weird salesman. Surely.

The metallic taste that spread inside his mouth after biting the skin surrounding his nails began to open and bleed finally pulled Gi-hun out of his self-destructive thoughts that continued to circle like a toy train. Picking up his throwaway phone and choosing the one contact he saved on every single burner phone he had as “Reason to smile ❤️” and pressing the call button.

“Gi-hun? What’s wrong?” Your voice forced a small smile to form on his face. He hesitated

“Hey. Just wanted to ask if I should bring some take out home tonight. That’s all.”

In-ho // The Frontman // Player 001

♡— Him not saying I love you…

It’s purely just to tease you. When bored, In-ho will make you his greatest entertainment.

He likes making you annoyed and flustered, so he’ll intentionally ignore you just to make you react and pout at him adorably while he was trying so hard to keep his stone cold face and not break into a shit-eating grin and maybe even pull on your cheek to make you whine even more.

In-ho adores your whole being and cherishes all of your affections, so he’ll let himself get showered in them any tome he can.

Expect you to he cuddled up on his lap while he was leaning back in the leather chair, mumbling a complaint about how you covered his whole face in kisses but managed to miss the bridge of his nose. He will not allow you to move off his lap until you covered his whole face in kisses again as compensation for that mistake of yours.

So, In-ho’ll intentionally not give you affection so you pay even more attention to him. He is like a cat in that way weirdly enough.

Once you finally break his facade, the flood gates will open and you will be showered, bathed, drowned in his affection, physical and verbal.

“Fine. I’ll say it just because you’ve been so good to me today. I love you, my dearest, lovely darling.”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you back…

In-ho has a dedicated frequency on his walkie-talkie for you, so he can call in and ask you to come to his office for a kiss that cannot wait, to inform you that he is in the bedroom and retiring for the day or just to tell you that he loves you randomly throughout the day.

Of course, you’d always reply back with your own gadget, but to pay back his infinite teasing he has done to you, you decided to ignore him the way he sometimes does to you. Payback.

Your husband called into your frequency. “Dove, are you free right now? Come to my office, I miss you.” and so your game begins. You simply ignored his request and continued getting comfortable in your bed and all the sheets surrounding you, grinning to yourself as you awaited the next time In-ho calls in again, for which you don’t have to wait long for.

“Darling, I am waiting. Do you want me to send someone to pick you up?” Your grin widened as you heard how impatient he was slowly getting with the lack of your response. “I can see you in the bedroom.” That one caught you off guard. Did he install cameras in your shared bedroom??

Almost on cue, your bedroom door opened, revealing the masked Frontman. His shoulders were tense and you could feel his intense state through the mask. You stared back, not expecting how quickly your husband would cave in and visit you himself. Innocently, you batted your lashes at him.

In-ho slipped his mask off and carelessly tossed it on the nightstand. “Why are you ignoring me? Are you upset or just moody?” Unimpressed, you silently glared at him. He gave you an equally uninterested look and leaned down to your face to give you a small peck on your cheek. “Not enough. More.”

A chuckle escaped his lips as his lips cracked into a smile.

“Demanding, aren’t we? Fine. As you wish.”

💠

Author’s note. Thank you for reading <3

Watch me announce that I’m going to post In-ho’s yandere profile and proceed to get hit with the most ungodly group-assignment in Chemistry. Anyways, take this as an apology! Had to write a little fluff for them since the only thing I’m finding is smut 🙏😭 I’m not complaining but this fluff prompt came to me like a truck during a class of mine. It was originally inspired by this post and I made a similar one before for the Demon Slayer hashira. Check it out if you’re interested!!

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <33

[nanenna]

Some headcanons I didn't manage to fit in, for those curious.

Vlad was also in the facility in just as bad shape, I know I forgot him during that and edited it a little for AO3 so he's also there getting rescued. Just... all the halfas living and recovering together. Since this is post Glitch (even if we have no idea what's going to happen after that cliffhanger yet as of writing this) Vlad had actually been well on his redemption arc when this happened.

Dan and Danny are twins (what with the cloning), and were in their early 20s when they got captured. Dani, being 4 years younger, was near the end of high school. But everyone's ghost forms still look the age they were when they died (and I HC that halfas only age when they're not ghosts so everyone looks younger than they are legally). So Plasmius looks 20, Dan Phasmius (not his actual name) looks 18-ish (half way between his two ghost "parents"), Danny Phantom looks 14, and Dani Phantom looks 10. Forever. It certainly makes for better secret identities once they got older (more on that later). After they start their recovery and get new IDs the kids instead become triplets because why not?

For Jazz to be there and get shot with the Drs Fenton I'm thinking everyone was home for probably the holidays so... you know... more holiday trauma for the Fenton boys! 8D

The halfas are healing, but it's a slow process. Most of the healing actually happens in ghost form, but they need to be in human form to get all the nutrients they need to literally rebuild parts of their bodies. It's kind of a hack, actually. Their ghost and physical bodies do mirror each other... kinda (see age HC above). So as ghosts they gather ecto and build back their bodies, but when they turn human there's only so much protein and calcium to go around so they gotta eat while humans because the normal human body doesn't regrow nerves. Like I said: relatively slow process.

Obviously laying around regrowing missing body parts is really boring, and since going ghost is part of the healing process all four spend time hanging out in ghost form and just... getting out and spending time with anyone else. So even before their human bodies are up for leaving bed the Phantoms and Plasmius are already sparring and getting to know their rescuers and meeting other JL members. The moment someone even hints at talking to them about taking up cape work Clark punches that person right in the face. Gently (for a Kryptonian). These people lived his nightmare, the one J'onn barely escaped, he's so very protective of these children. He doesn't care if they only look like children, no one is going to pressure them into cape work. They've more than earned retirement.

I do think after they fully recover probably everyone would go on the "reserve" list for when world ending threats happen, and the kids would probably step in for anything they see happening near them where ever they live, but I don't think any of them would do well out in the trenches with all that ✨CPTSD✨

But those are just my thoughts, I'm not planning on writing more. Anyone else who's inspired is more than welcome to do their own thing with this. I know I left their recovery pretty open in the epilogue.

DP x DC Prompt/Plotbunny #6

After days? weeks? months? years? in this mercy-forsaken lab, Danny finds himself slipping; his core straining under the weight of what he's been subjected to. In a last ditch effort to save his fracturing soul, his brain simply stops processing the pain and allows his mind to escape into a waking dream.

Danny knows it's a dream. If he thinks about it; he can still hear, see, feel the scientists at work. He doesn't think about it; instead embraces whatever false world his mind decides to concoct for him.

.

Several states away, a young boy opens his eyes to the inside of a strange pod in an abandoned lab. Though he cannot see it yet, a strange metal tag dangles from his ear, stamped on one side with the word 'CADMUS' and on the other with 'R-13'.

[annabelle--cane]

do you think there are any flaws with interpreting jon’s statement dependence as an addiction metaphor, i.e. it’s closer to food and not something he could ever realistically stop or recover from? wondering because while i find the similarities to addiction with his need for statements interesting, it doesn’t quite seem fully comparable when it’s closer to his lifeblood. it’s like the type of vampires that’ll die without blood- that dependence isn’t something they can ever break. stopping would be a for-the-greater-good starvation suicide requiring the viewer to weigh the death of one person against the suffering of multiple people. which is interesting, but as withdrawal is horrific but survivable, and addiction doesn’t automatically have inflicting suffering on others as a prerequisite, i feel the metaphor falters a little bit there. idk i’d be interested in any thoughts you have on the subject

sniles so sneetly. I do have Thoughts about the subject.

(first, as a quick aside, this isn't super relevant to this ask, but: some types of withdrawal absolutely can be fatal, namely alcohol and benzodiazepine withdrawal. be super careful if you or someone you know wants to go off these substances after a period of frequent/regular use and do not quit cold turkey without medical supervision.)

you are correct that it is not a 1:1 direct allegory, but I think the thing to keep in mind is that the fairytale logic of tma runs exclusively on fear, distress, and worst-case-scenarios. for an example, depression also doesn't automatically have inflicting suffering on others as a prerequisite, but that is how martin's relationship to the lonely works; he cuts himself off and passively feeds his patron with the pain his loved ones feel as a result of not having him around. while that's not actually how depression works irl, hurting the people around you with your distance is both a fear that is likely to eat at you and a selfish impulse that you may have to actively resist when in the The Pits of an episode, and the lonely is a manifestation of that.

I think jon's dependence on statements works the same way, as a funhouse mirror reflection of all the fears and worst-case-scenarios one commonly experiences during addiction, namely that it's completely inescapable and that it turns you into a monster who is unrecognizable in comparison to your usual self. withdrawal won't actually kill you (most of the time!!! sometimes it can!!!), relapse isn't a forgone inevitable conclusion (and even if/when it happens that doesn't actually mean you're Doomed Forever), and using is not an inherent evil and it doesn't turn anyone into a soul-sucking monster, but those are all extremely common fears that addicts often have.

[maenoakasuna]

Hi! I saw your request post. Would you write a short platonic fic with either Alastor or Lucifer? I don’t see very many of those often and they’re cute and funny. Thanks!😁

Them as a Boyfriends

• Hello ! Sorry for the waiting, but the request is finally out ! So, it's not a fic, but more some uncanon fact about Lucifer and Alastor as boyfriend. I wasn't sure what did you mean by platonic so I stayed in the romantic part, somehow. It's not 100% romantic but I think it's still cute. Hope You will ( all ) like it :)

_________________________ L U C I F E R ________________________

-Will always Hold your hand in public or give a kiss on it

-He will open every door for you or push the chair when you’re sit on it ( What a gentlemen )

-If you’re sick he will rush to the drugstore and maybe overreact by buying every meds or painkiller he could find, just to be sure you will have to good thing

-If you fall asleep somewhere, he will gently bring you to your room without waking you up. He will just take you in his arms.

-At Night, if you’re not able to sleep, he will take you in his arms and fly across hell to show you everything. 

-He’s not jealous but if you spend more time with others and less with him, he will be sad and think he’s not enough for you. His insecurities and depression will take him over. He will say he’s alright but that’s not true. He just doesn't want to bother you with his negative thoughts. 

-If you’re mad about him, he will do EVERYTHING to get your forgiveness. He can’t handle you being mad at him. And he will sincerely be sorry for whatever He did.

-If you had a bad day, he will just prepare your favorite Meal, prepare you a hot bath with bubbles and after that you are gonna eat in front of your favorite movie or show with a lot of warm blankets.

-He’s not really good at cooking except for making pancakes but he try his best

-He's the kind of boyfriend to like wearing matching outfits or accessories.

-He’s the family type of guy. Will be more than happy to have kids with you if it’s what you want to, but will never pressure you or talk about it if it’s not something you plan. He already have charlie anyway and he’s 100% with that.

-If you have periods, he’s the type to get a little nervous and will ask you if you need anything, but he’s kinda scared of the side symptome. Like should he give you chocolate and cuddle you or should He just give you space ? He doesn't really know how to handle that but he always does his best. Just tell him what you need.

-His favorit type of kiss his on the forehead. Lips are cute but forehead kisses are everything. It mean more to him than any other type of kisses.

-His favorit pet name for you is : Little Love or My love

_________________________A L A S T O R_________________________

-Showing affection his not his cup of tea, but sometimes, he will put his arm around your waist.

-Just like Lucifer he will open every door for you, like a gentlemen.

-He usually don’t care when people ask him to do something, but coming from you he will do it without even asking.

-He’s a great cook and now how to cock many things. Ask and you will have.

-Will agree to do skin care with you or let you paint his nails

-If you’re sick he will wrap you in too much blanket and cook some soup, bring you medicinal tea and don’t you dare leave your bed.

-If you’re sad he will take you out for a walk and will let you talk about what happened. He will not say a word, just listen to you in silence until you reach a beautiful place. You will completely forget why you were sad and just enjoy the landscape.

-His favorite Pet Name for you gonna be : My Dear, darling

-If someone hurt you, physically or mentally, no one is gonna see this person ever again. If you ask him if he was him who did this, he will not deny it but will not say he did something. 

-He’s not jealous but he don’t like other touching you. If someone start to be to touchy with you, he will give this person a scary warning to fuck off.

-If you ever work with the Vees…darling, believe me, you want. You don’t want to face this creepy part of your boyfriend. 

-If you have periods, Alastor will stay calm, get you everything you need and even accept to cuddle if you are in pain.

-Even if physical touch is not his thing, his favorite place to kiss you is on the cheeks or the top of your hand.

-If you’re mad at him, he will apologize and that’s pretty much it. Get over it and if you don’t, that’s not his problem.

-If you fall asleep somewhere, he will put a blanket on you and stay close until you wake up and will escort you to your room, making sure you are safe.

-If you ever talk about having kids with him, he will just laugh and say with his natural big smile ‘’ I will think about it, my dear ‘’ ( Not, he will not )

-The only physical touch he really love, is when a nice music start, he like to take you for a dance and hold you close to him. He only dance with you. In private or public, he don’t care. That’s he’s way to show you love.

[marscardigan]

kitchen encounter

ellie williams x reader

summary: you are alone with joel for the first time since you started dating ellie.

word count: 5.4k

You woke up next to your girlfriend’s sleepy figure. Her arm gently gripped around your waist and your legs intertwined with hers. Your lips curved at the sight in front of you. Ellie’s head was buried inside the crook of your neck. You wanted to stay here forever, but you needed to wake up. You were hungry, so you left her warm inside the sheets, and started your way to the kitchen. There you made some fried eggs and bacon, making two plates for when Ellie woke up. A sound of a door opening alarmed you, thinking you woke your girlfriend. What you didn’t think it to be was Joel Miller in his pajamas, seeming not happy to see you.

You both just stared each other, without saying a word. You wanted to jump off of the window or ran back to the bedroom, but you stayed still, eyes wide open.

"What the hell are you doin’ in my kitchen"

"Good morning, uh, sir" You wanted to slap yourself so bad. Ellie would be laughing hard at your reaction. "Stayed the night with Els-Ellie, sir"

"Please, don’t call me sir again" He sighed, ignoring your figure to grab a mug.

Suddenly, he didn’t seem to mind your presence there, but you felt out of place. You swore Joel would be on patrol or something. He ignored you, not making any conversation, and once he finished making his coffee, he disappeared again, before closing his dorm door, he looked back at you.

Almost tripping with the stairs, you ran to hide back to Ellie’s bedroom, finding her awake. You closed the door and hid inside her bed. "Ohmygod I’m gonna die"

She turned to look at you, smiling, but her voice seemed concerned. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"Joel hates me" You pouted. "He just met me and already despises me"

Ellie blinked, her messy hair falling into her eyes as she tried to suppress a laugh. "Wait, what? What did he even say to you?"

You groaned, burying your face into her pillow. "He asked me what I was doing in his kitchen. And I panicked and called him 'sir.' Sir, Ellie. He told me not to call him that."

That was enough to make Ellie burst into laughter, her body shaking against yours as she tried to catch her breath. "Bullshit, you called him sir? Like, what are you? A soldier reporting for duty?"

"This isn’t funny!" you whined, smacking her arm lightly. "He looked like he was ready to toss me out. And then he just ignored me!"

Ellie propped herself up on her elbow, smirking down at you. "Relax, he’s like that with everyone. It’s just his vibe. Grumpy old man who secretly doesn’t know how to deal with people being nice to him. Trust me, if he really hated you, he wouldn’t have let you get out of that kitchen alive."

You frowned. "Whoa, that’s not exactly comforting, Els."

She snorted and leaned down to kiss your forehead. "Okay, fine. Let me handle it. I’ll talk to him later and smooth things over. He’ll come around eventually. Just... maybe avoid calling him 'sir' next time."

You sighed, finally letting yourself relax a bit. "Do you think he’ll ever actually like me?"

Ellie rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling with a thoughtful hum. "I mean, it’s Joel. Liking people isn’t exactly his thing. But if it makes you feel better, he didn’t scare you off, and that’s a win f'me. You survived the Joel Miller experience."

Later in the day, Ellie had convinced you to join her and Joel for lunch. You’d hesitated—your kitchen encounter was already burned into your memory, and you weren’t eager to relive the awkwardness—but Ellie insisted.

"Trust me," she said, lacing her fingers through yours. "He’s not as scary as you think."

Now, sitting across from Joel at the dining table, you weren’t so sure. He was quiet, watching you with those piercing eyes of his, as Ellie rambled on about patrol routes and whatever random thoughts popped into her head. You nodded and laughed in the right places, but every time you glanced at Joel, you felt like a bug under a magnifying glass.

Finally, Joel set his fork down, his gaze locking onto you. "So," he drawled, leaning back in his chair. "You and Ellie, huh?"

Ellie groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Joel—"

"What?" he said, feigning innocence. "Just makin’ conversation."

You cleared your throat, your hands suddenly sweaty. "Uh, yeah. Me and Ellie."

Joel’s eyes narrowed just slightly, his lips twitching like he was holding back a smirk. "You seem nice enough," he said, his tone casual. "But just so we’re clear, if you ever hurt her…" He picked up his steak knife, twirling it lazily between his fingers. "…they won’t find the body."

Your eyes widened, and you let out a nervous laugh, unsure if he was joking or not. Ellie, however, looked mortified.

"Jesus, Joel!" she snapped, glaring at him. "Could you not threaten my girlfriend?"

Joel shrugged, unfazed. "Just makin’ sure we understand each other."

You swallowed hard but managed a shaky smile. "Crystal clear, sir—uh, Joel. I’ll never hurt her."

"Good." He nodded, satisfied, before returning to his meal like he hadn’t just casually threatened your life.

From across the table, Ellie sent you an apologetic smile. You didn't smile back, still shivering.

After, when the two of you were in her bed, Ellie kissed your anxiety away. "Ignore him," she whispered. "He was just… being Joel."

"I’m fine," you whispered back, now calmer.

Ellie leaned closer, "For what it’s worth, I think he likes you. If he didn’t, he’d be way worse."

"Worse?" you muttered under your breath, "Good to know."

[chiasaaa]

— mean it || part i

itoshi sae x f! reader

summary: loving someone as cruel as itoshi sae has to be the worst thing that ever happened to a hopeless romantic like you. years of pining over your childhood crush finally comes to an end, or does it?

warning: english is not my first language. apologies for any grammatical or spelling errors.

— when itoshi sae left japan, he not only left his family and a broken promise with his little brother. no, he left a person that carved a huge hole in his heart when he did so. who would have known that japan's pride and joy had fallen for your charm? certainly not you, because you have been vocal about your interest to the auburn-haired boy since you were six, and he never bothered reciprocating your feelings. whenever you ask him how he feels about you, he never answers and would very much rather deadpan instead. his one true love is football, and there is nothing that will stop him from reaching his dreams. he will do whatever it takes to become the greatest; shifting his dream from being the world's greatest striker to the world's greatest midfielder is proof of that dedication. he didn't care what he has to do to get there. sae will continue playing football even after his legs break.

it was something you admired greatly about him. it was natural for both of you to become friends when you've met, given that you share the same interest. at some point, you both also shared the same dream of becoming the world's best striker.

it seems like only one of you has reached such doors of opportunity as you were finally scouted by re al madrid's women's division as a striker—a centre forward to be specific. you were seventeen when you were scouted, and through the one year you've worked with re al, you have never once caught a glimpse of itoshi sae. even so, you didn't mind. you were there for your dream, not to catch up to sae. it was one of the things that he came to admire about you.

since he was a kid, he had always known about your childish feelings for him. at first, he thought it was annoying and considered cutting you off if you prove to be a hindrance. he tried to see just how far you'll go for him—to please him. however, when he realized that you don't use your feelings as a reason to excuse his bad behavior, he couldn't help but feel gravitated towards you. it began to scare him, how you suddenly have control over his actions and plagued his thoughts, so he left.

it wasn't until your match against wc barcha that your paths have decided to reunite you two. the championship game for nationals is today, and the same stadium was used for both men's and women's games. right after sae took a shower and freshened up, their team captain informed them that they will be watching the women's match. though, it wasn't needed. the fact that it's the championship game and their team is in the game for the first time in five years was enough for the reigning champions of the men's division to watch.

that was how he ended up sitting with the rest of his team at the very front of the stadium, eyes wide by the slightest inch at the sight of you standing proud within the starting lineup as the match began its opening ceremony.

you have certainly changed. your previous long raven hair now had streaks of auburn in them and seemed longer than ever. contrary to how you used to tie your hair in french braids, you now tie it securely in a single high ponytail. you have grown taller, though he still towers over your figure. your clean nails that you religiously took care of now had gel polish in them.

and most importantly, the hideous neon pink cleats you used to play with are now replaced by a powder blue shade—your favorite. he would be lying if he said it didn't bother him, knowing fully well that those neon pink cleats were a gift from him, but he fooled himself to think that your shoe size simply changed over time and you can't use them anymore.

still, why did you have to change the color if you once said that neon pink reminds you of him?

throughout the entire match, his eyes remained on you. the fact that you're playing in a completely different level now made him feel like he never knew who you were at all. you have exceeded most strikers already, even within the male's division. playing against guys your entire life proved advantageous in the pro league because it certainly shows when you're put up with the rest of the lukewarm idiots. they all seemed like headless chickens compared to you.

you were graceful, yet destructive. that addictive yet terrifying feeling began to creep in from behind again, and it made him feel nauseous. you're one terrifying being, with that way you're able to win over people's hearts so effortlessly.

"and re al's shooting star delivered the decisive goal! for the first time in five years, re al has reclaimed the throne as spain's champions!"

having both teams win called for a big celebration for the entire re al team. it didn't help sae when you were invited as the opening speaker for the party. throughout your speech, his eyes never left your figure. a sense of pride welled in his chest now that he sees you holding three golden trophies you've most definitely earned. it was proof of your hard work. you were madrid's shooting star—the one person they needed to finally win and snatch the crown back to represent spain in the international league.

it wasn't until the end of your speech that your eyes have finally spotted sae in the crowd, your breathe caught up in your throat the moment you realized it was him. leonardo luna even had to assist you down the stage, mainly due to your long evening gown, for you to finally snap back into reality.

he is here.

quite funny how you first had to win nationals just for you to get a glimpse of him. now that he really is in the same room as you, you don't know how to react anymore.

should you hug him? wait, he might not even remember you. maybe a hello would do and not scare him away. what if he doesn't remember you, though?

you've been thinking about it too much at the balcony with a glass of wine twirling between your fingers that you failed to notice how you accidentally manifested said man by your side.

"finally decided to show up, huh?"

it took you by surprise, feeling his gentle breath against your ear as he spoke. you jumped back in slight surprise, and it was thanks to his quick reflexes that he avoided an unwanted accident by catching the glass you just dropped. he hands it back to you with a slight chuckle, finding it amusing that behind the new you is the same clumsy girl he once played football with.

"sae," you utter in disbelief. "f-funny seeing you here."

"huh? you know i play for re al."

"really? couldn't have known! haha..."

then, it was awkwardly silent. you quietly sipped on your drink as you actively avoided his gaze, finding interest in the pitch black emptiness they call the sky.

"i was waiting for you." he finally said, breaking the silence like shattered glass. "i knew you could do it."

"it took awhile," you slowly relaxed into the conversation until you're comfortable enough to start talking about your journey—how you always had him in your thoughts whenever you train. he painfully reminded you of your silly antics as a child crushing over him. how you promised to him that you'll one day go down on one knee at the centre of the football stadium to ask for his hand in marriage.

you couldn't help but feel hopeful now that he's mentioned all of it in one night, finding that maybe itoshi sae isn't completely against the idea of being yours. what else could it mean, right? he was the first to approach and congratulate you for reaching this milestone. he was the first to strike up a conversation for the both of you to finally catch up. he was the first to stir the storytelling to the silly romances you both shared before.

the feeling only intensified when he asked you to ditch the party with him and go someplace instead, hiding your adventures into the mystery of the night.

maybe, just maybe, itoshi sae wants you just as much as you've been wanting him all these years.

[batboyblog]

i live in the south, and i used to follow someone on here who lives in the same state as me, who i thought would've understood how difficult things are for marginalized people who live in red states and why we needed harris to win. but they kept reblogging posts about how both parties are the same and anyone who votes for harris is voting for genocide (as if letting trump win was going to be any better?? he's just started talking about wanting to "clean out the whole thing" and forcibly displace all remaining palestinians by making them move to jordan and egypt, an idea which every group who would be affected hates 🙄). i kept hoping they'd finally realize the very obvious fact that contributing to trump's win wasn't going to make things better for any decent person in the world but the last straw for me was when they posted something like "well i was going to go vote for [fictional character] but the line was too long so i just went home haha!!" i blocked them right after that, and now of course trump is in office and things are going to get so much worse for me and for them as those of us in red states have so much less of a chance to push back against our local governments and all of the bigots who voted for trump will feel more emboldened by his win. so yeah, i share your small fantasy that people like that will wake up and realize they were wrong for spreading these ideas. sorry for venting in your inbox though lol, you don't have to reply to this if you don't want to!

One of my best friends in politics is from Louisiana. He's gay and when he came out his parents sent him to a pray the gay away camp where... really horrible shit happened. And I think about that skinny kid coming out of just the most horrible shit imaginable and being a Freshman in college working his ass off for a Red State Democratic Senator, Mary Landrieu, Mary didn't win, but he worked SO hard for her. And we met working on Hillary's campaign together, boy has bad luck with Democratic women running for office.

Any ways the point is, I love red state Dems, I really do. My friend really loved John Bel Edwards, now I don't think either of us really fully agreed with Edwards, I know my friend was as feminist as a gay boy can be and believed in the right to an abortion totally, Edwards was/is one of the rare pro-life Democrats. But my friend understood, a Democratic governor would protect more people's rights, do more for the poor and the disadvantaged. Edwards' signed an order day one in office banning LGBT discrimination in the state government, when a Republican took over 8 years later, day one, threw that order out, a lot like Trump undoing all the pro-LGBT orders Biden did and rolling back trans rights/access to federal documents that came about under President Obama and Secretary of State Hillary Clinton.

I think thats the thing, in Red States and in America at large we share this big country with a lot of people most of whom are more conservative than I am, so how do I get as much of what I want as I can? Do I vote Mickey Mouse for President? no I vote for the candidate that will do the most good, I won't always agree with them, I don't agree with myself most of the time.

idk it's not... theoretical to me? I'm likely not writing my best work here but when it comes to voting I think about all the people in my life who needed help, if they got it or not, and the ways they were left behind or would have been life behind and all the kids out there, queer kids trans kids, the poor always the poor kids, you know and the loss they'll suffer because of 4 years of a Republican President. And yes Trump is a VERY bad Republican President but if we ever get to some future after him there will come a time where maybe a bland centrist Democrat will run against a business focused Republican, Bush V Gore? and people will say "oh there's no difference" and there is.

oh also I want to say, the little old ladies, the normie "cringe lib" wine moms and grandmas (and yes dads and granddads, but more women then men tbh) who struggle with a grand-nephews pronouns did more for trans rights by going out knocking doors for Harris one weekend, then shitty leftist posters (trans and not) who endlessly attacked Dems and voting.

any ways I'm sorry all this is happening, idk what state you're in or how bad it is or will be. I don't have easy answers for living through this long night of the soul. As Thomas Paine put it all those years ago "These are the times that try men's souls: The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of his country; but he that stands it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman." it is trying my soul, but I will endure as we all must endure, we can not give up we cannot fail, we cannot allow ourselves to be ground down by fascists, and by their handmaids who act as if they're on our side, I hope everyone is looking to what they can do, and what the next chance they have to fight back and take back political power is.

[kikyoupdates]

Made to Destroy ⭑˚💎⭑ 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑙

bnha x op!reader

op!reader, my hero academia x fem!reader, reverse harem, over powered reader, f!reader

You are the product of a series of twisted experiments, an anomaly that shouldn’t have ever existed in the first place. Thankfully, you are taken into the arms of a hero and given a new purpose in life. But as you soon discover, it isn’t easy to deny your true nature, especially when you were made to destroy.

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“What is this place?”  

“It’s a hospital.”  

“And what happens here?”  

“Here, they look after people that are sick. And they do everything they can to make sure they feel better.”  

You furrow your brows. “But I’m not sick. So, why did you bring me here?”  

Aizawa smiles sympathetically. He feels bad to have to drag you around, especially someplace that’s hardly any fun, but it can't be helped. From what he’s heard, it sounds like you’ve been through a traumatic, abusive experience. Ensuring your health and safety is his number one priority.  

“We’re just here to make sure everything is okay,” he says, gently patting your back. “I believe you when you say you’re not sick, but it’s still important to check. Just to be safe.”  

Hm. Well, alright. If Aizawa says so, then you have no reason to doubt his words. He always seems to have your best interests in mind.  

“Okay,” you nod. “I’ll do a good job and prove to everyone that I’m not sick.”  

He pats your back again, then ushers you along, and soon, you are brought into a room where a friendly-looking man greets you.  

“Hi there, [Name],” he beams. “I’m Dr. Iwase. It’s very nice to meet you.”  

You know it’s polite to respond, but you don’t. At least, not right away. 

Something has caught your eye.  

“That,” you say, pointing to the white coat he’s wearing. “The bad man also had one of those. That’s what he was wearing.”  

Aizawa’s eyes widen, and he grabs hold of you by the shoulders.  

“That?” he reaffirms, pointing to the doctor’s coat. “The man who hurt you was wearing a lab coat?”  

You nod. “I think so. It looks the same, and I haven’t seen anyone else wear something like that until now.”  

“A lab coat,” Dr. Iwase frowns. “Is it possible that the man you’re talking about is a doctor? Although I suppose that might be a bit of a stretch. There are various other professions that require their employees to wear protective clothing.”  

“What’s a doctor?” you ask.  

“Someone like me,” Dr. Iwase smiles. “Someone who looks after people and tries to help them by giving them medicine or figuring out what hurts.”  

You ponder his words for a few moments, then begrudgingly shake your head.  

“Then I don’t think he’s a doctor,” you say. “Doctors are supposed to help people. The bad man tried to hurt me. A doctor wouldn’t do that, right?”  

A heavy, uncomfortable silence falls over the room, and after a brief pause, Aizawa strokes your hair reassuringly.  

“It’s okay,” he says. “You don’t need to try to think about it anymore if it scares you. Just the fact that you’ve remembered another detail is already incredibly helpful. Good job, [Name].”  

As always, being praised makes your heart start beating excitedly. You want to hear him say good job over and over again. You want to do whatever it takes to make him happy, because he makes you so happy.  

“Thank you for bringing her in, Aizawa,” Dr. Iwase then says. “If it’s alright, can I move on with the examination?”  

Aizawa nods. “Yes, please. I’ll be right outside, so just let me know when I should come back in.”  

He turns to walk out of the room, but before he can, you reach out and grab him by the sleeve.  

Your eyes are wide, imploring.  

“Where are you going?” you ask fearfully. “Are you... leaving me?”  

Aizawa's heart drops. You poor, sweet thing. He can only imagine what you must have endured, if the thought of being apart from him is enough to send you into a panic.  

“I’ll be right outside the room,” he reassures. “I would never leave you. This is just so that the doctor can do his job and examine you properly. I don’t want to cause any distractions. But I promise you’ll see me again in just a few minutes. Okay?”  

Thankfully, you believe him. 

“Okay,” you nod. “I trust you, Aizawa.”  

He smiles. Just hearing you say those words means more than he can even express.  

Aizawa finally leaves, but Dr. Iwase is really nice, so after taking a few moments to calm down, you realize it isn’t that scary. He starts off by asking you some questions, like if there’s any part of your body that hurts. You reply that there isn’t, and he then proceeds to carefully check your body, almost as if he’s searching for something in particular.  

Of course, Dr. Iwase doesn’t say it aloud, but he’s looking for any bruises, lacerations, or other discernible signs of abuse.  

But much to his relief, he doesn’t find any.  

It doesn’t take too long for him to finish with the examination, and overall, it really wasn’t a big deal. You suddenly feel a bit silly for having any reservations about it in the first place.  

Dr. Iwase opens the door, and a smile spreads across your lips as Aizawa steps back inside.  

“Was everything okay?” he asks.  

“Yes,” Dr. Iwase nods. “I didn’t find anything worrisome. She seems to be perfectly healthy, thank goodness. Of course, her mental state may be rather strained, so perhaps I should set her up with one of our child psychologists. Just to make sure she has someone to talk to.”  

“If you think that would be best, then I’m all for it.”  

“Perfect. Ah! One last thing.” Dr. Iwase smiles sheepishly. “Sorry. Just standard procedure, but if [Name] doesn’t mind, I would like to obtain a blood sample from her. It’d be best if we cover all our bases and make sure there isn’t anything ailing her.”  

You flinch. A blood sample? He wants... to take your blood?  

All of a sudden, you’re reminded of Dr. Garaki, and before you know it, you’re clinging to Aizawa’s arm and furiously shaking your head.  

“No!” you cry out. “I’m not doing that! I won’t!”  

“I-It’s okay,” Dr. Iwase reassures. “I promise it isn’t scary. It’ll just feel like a little pinch, and before you know it, it’ll be over.”  

Liar. He must be lying. He must be a bad person after all. Even Dr. Garaki didn’t seem so bad at the start, but he quickly revealed his true colors, and it seems like this man is doing the same.  

However, when Aizawa pats your head and offers you a warm, encouraging look, you’re forced to second-guess yourself.  

“He’s just trying to help you,” Aizawa says. “Doctors look at blood so they can better figure out if someone’s sick or not. I know it sounds scary, but I’ll stay with you the whole time, and I promise I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you. So, can you be a brave girl and give this a try?”  

Aizawa is telling you everything is going to be okay. Having your blood taken sounds... frightening, to say the least. It doesn’t sound like something that should happen.  

But you’ve already decided not to doubt Aizawa. You will never, ever doubt Aizawa.  

So, you swallow your apprehension and nod.  

“O-Okay,” you mumble. “I’ll do it. Because Aizawa says so.”  

Aizawa praises you again, for being such a good listener and always making an effort. He promised not to go anywhere this time, so while Dr. Iwase sets everything up, Aizawa grabs a seat beside you and squeezes your hand.  

Soon enough, Dr. Iwase returns with a needle, and you tremble at the sight.  

“It’s going to be alright,” Aizawa reassures. He tilts your head towards him. “Just look into my eyes and it’ll all be over soon. And as a reward for doing such a good job, I’ll buy you all the burgers you want afterwards.”  

Aizawa intertwines his fingers with yours, and that simple act alone is enough to instill you with confidence.  

“Make a fist, please,” Dr. Iwase instructs. “And now... just a tiny pinch.”  

He’s right. The pain is so brief that you hardly even take note of it. It’s nothing like the excruciating experience that Dr. Garaki submitted you to. And besides, this is different. Here, you can tell that people aren’t trying to hurt you. They aren’t ripping your body apart just to see what it’s capable of.  

The people here actually care.  

“All done,” Dr. Iwase hums. He sets aside the vial filled with your blood and smiles kindly. “You did a very good job, [Name]. Be proud of yourself.”  

“You’re amazing,” Aizawa echoes, smoothing your hair down lovingly. “Since you did so well, I guess that means I owe you a bunch of burgers now, huh?”  

A grin spreads across your lips, and you nod enthusiastically.  

“Yep!” 

Today, you’re out on a little adventure with Present Mic.  

Apparently, Aizawa was called in to deal with some hero duties, so it’s just the two of you. Of course, you adore Aizawa, and it would be even better if you could all stay together all the time, but you understand that he’s busy and can’t be around every minute of the day.  

“Well, there it is, kiddo,” Present Mic says, gesturing towards the scene in front of him. “I said I’d take you out to play, and where better to do it than at a playground? Go ahead and knock yourself out!”  

That’s where you are right now. A playground. Needless to say, you have no experience with such a thing, but there are several other kids here, and they all seem to be enjoying themselves, so surely, you can do the same.  

“What do I do?” you ask, frowning slightly.  

Present Mic scratches his head. “What do you do? Uh, well... you just play.”  

“And how do I do that?”  

“However you want. The playground has a bunch of different fun stuff. Take a look around and find out what you like!”  

You nod and decide to do just that. Present Mic sits down on one of the benches and waves happily as he watches you from afar. You can’t help but admit that you feel a bit lost. All of this is so new to you, after all. Perhaps you should check out what the other kids are doing and learn by example.  

One kid is swinging from some brightly colored bars, grinning all the while.  

Another kid is sliding down a... well, a slide, you suppose. He gets to the very bottom, then climbs up a ladder and reaches the top of the slide, only to repeat the whole process all over again.  

Yet another kid is using a small shovel to sculpt various shapes in a sand pit.  

All of it looks quite intriguing, but right as you’re about to contemplate which activity you want to do, you turn. 

“Ha! I knew you wouldn’t do it, Deku! You’re such a baby. Only a wimp like you would chicken out.”  

There’s a group of kids just off to the side of the playground, next to a tree. You hear laughter, and since you assume it must mean something good, you naturally migrate over towards them.  

Only to find that one of the kids is on the verge of tears.  

“Th-That’s mean, Kacchan,” the boy whimpers. He has curly green hair and cheeks dashed with freckles, and he’s also balling his little hands into fists, visibly frustrated. “I-I just don’t want to do it. I don’t think it’s safe. And you can’t... you can’t force me.”  

“Imagine being such a loser that you won’t even try to climb a tree,” a blond boy—presumably the one who’s teasing him—snickers. “Seriously. You’re so lame.”  

The other boy sniffles, and even though you’ve only just walked into this situation, it’s obvious that he’s upset.  

You don’t like seeing people upset. You like it when people are happy, because it makes you feel happy. 

And so, you intervene.  

“If he doesn’t want to climb the tree, you shouldn’t try to make him,” you say. “That’s not a nice thing to do.”  

The blond boy finally turns to look your way, and the second his crimson eyes meet yours, he openly glares. 

“Mind your own business,” he snaps. “This has nothing to do with you.”  

You blink. Huh. He seems kind of... rude? At the very least, he’s close to making that other boy cry. You wonder why he hasn’t stopped to apologize yet.  

“He doesn’t want to climb the tree, so he shouldn’t,” you reason. “And I don’t think you should be making fun of him for it.”  

The blond boy, whose name you don’t yet know as Bakugou Katsuki, crosses his arms at you and visibly scoffs.  

“Wow, you must think you’re so tough,” he jeers. “But I bet even you wouldn’t climb that tree. You’re probably a baby, just like Deku.”  

You glance up at the tree in question. Honestly, you’re not quite sure what’s so scary about it, and you have yet to discover what a fear of heights is, but if the freckled boy doesn’t want to climb it, he has every right to feel that way.  

Still. The blond kid is starting to annoy you with his arrogance, and you get the sudden urge to prove him wrong and shut him up.  

“I can climb it,” you say. “Just watch.”  

You walk up to the tree and spend a few moments trying to figure out what to do. You wrap your little hands around its trunk, searching for purchase, and eventually, you manage to lift your feet up and begin your ascent.  

It isn’t too difficult, if you’re being honest. Perhaps you're even more athletic than you realize, because slowly and surely, you’re able to scale the side of the tree and make your way onto one of its lowermost branches.  

“I climbed it,” you say, looking down at Katsuki with a smug expression. “See? I told you I could.”  

Katsuki grits his teeth. “You didn’t even climb it all the way. You have to go higher.”  

“B-But Kacchan, that’s really dangerous!”  

“Shut it, Deku! It’s not even a big deal, so relax.”  

You crane your neck and look upwards. True, you could probably afford to go a bit higher. It isn’t scary, and it’s been really easy so far.  

You still have a lot to discover about the world. Dr. Garaki taught you pain, the fear of being sliced open and left to bleed. That scares you. But climbing a measly little tree? It’s practically child’s play in comparison. 

At least, up until you slip and fall, that is.  

It happens so fast that you can’t even make sense of it. One second, you’re hanging confidently from one of the branches, and the next, you are collapsed onto the ground, with your ears ringing, and an excruciating pain coming from your arm.  

You gasp for breath, and when your eyes flutter open, you find the two boys staring at you in absolute horror.  

And then you see the bone sticking out of your arm.  

You scream. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts! It’s unbelievably painful; probably just as bad as when Dr. Garaki experimented on you.  

Fuck. You never thought it would turn out like this. You didn’t realize there were so many other things in this world that could hurt you too.  

At the sound of your wailing, Present Mic comes running over, and when he sees your broken arm hanging off your body in a crude, bent angle, it’s safe to say that he nearly passes out on the spot.  

“Oh... Oh my god!” he exclaims. “[Name]! Are you okay?! Shit! I looked away... I looked away for only a minute and this happens?! I’m the worst! I’m so negligent, I’m awful, I’m—”  

He’s babbling incoherently, worried beyond belief. You don’t have the strength to respond to him. Everything hurts so fucking much. Tears blur your vision, and you can feel yourself slowly nodding off into a state of unconsciousness, overwhelmed by the pain. 

But you don’t pass out in time.  

And in fact, the pain doesn’t last much longer either.  

Everyone there—the group of kids, and Present Mic—watches as your mangled arm twists itself back to a normal shape, and the bloody gash caused by the protrusion of your broken bone slowly disappears. 

Your arm isn’t broken anymore. You’re perfectly healed.  

Oh. Right.  

Having recovered some of your strength, you slowly sit upright and rub at your teary eyes. The pain has mostly faded away. Part of it is still there, like a phantom sensation that lingers in your brain, but otherwise, you feel fine.  

If there’s one thing Dr. Garaki did right, it’s that he gave you an incredibly useful Quirk.  

“I’m okay,” you announce. Then, your eyes wander off to the side. “But... I think from now on, I should avoid climbing any trees.”  

Everyone’s jaw drops open. 

More chapters are available on Quotev or Wattpad!

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💎 main masterlist ♡ oneshot masterlist

[eldritch-sand-terror]

i really want to hear more about your headcanons...

Alright, I have no idea where to start so I’ll start with one I’m sorta hesitant to speak on, since a this one in particular is one that really is just me projecting, but I’m gonna post it anyway, just to get it out of the way. There is no way in hell Gaara doesn’t have some kind of Paranoid Disorder, AND I absolutely believe that the three main symptoms are stress or sleep deprived hallucinations, problems with eating, and fears or vulnerability (physically and emotionally).

I'll elaborate more in depth on these some other time (maybe), but for now, this post should suffice.

Starting with the hallucinations. Anyone under enough specific conditions can suddenly have their mind play tricks on them, regardless of any prior condition. Mental illness might make someone more susceptible to hallucinations, but anyone can have them if they have a particularly terrible few months, and Gaara has had quite some particularly terrible years. The stress of believing that there’s always someone out to get you (caused by someone ACTUALLY having been out to get you), combined with sleep deprivation and isolation, make very terrible conditions to be in, and that makes for perfect conditions to start experiencing things that are not happening. The headcanon here is that Gaara experiences primarily auditory hallucinations, with or without influence from Shukaku. Mostly noises that don’t quite come from any particular direction, but the occasional voice does chime in.

Problems trusting food or drink made or handled by others is something that primarily happens in public settings, the fear lies in the possibility that someone put something in there with malicious intentions. I imagine that after years of people trying to kill him, Gaara would most likely develop some skepticism regarding anything anyone ever tries to get him to eat or drink. Headcanon-wise, this is why I think he’s so scrawny and thin. (This specific headcanon also ties in to another one that I have, that being that Gaara knows enough about desert wildlife to be out there eating things that most people don’t like to think about eating.)

Fears of vulnerability in both physical and emotional ways. Physically getting hurt is bad enough, and the risk of being killed is always on the mind, any situation that could be dangerous is to be avoided, and anyone who can bypass whatever security you do have is an immediate threat. Getting hurt emotionally is a whole other beast entirely, you don’t need to know how to wield a weapon to cut out a piece of someone’s soul. Fears, doubts, ideals, hopes, all manner of thoughts filtered before letting them out to anyone, told carefully to a specific few people. There is always a possibility of someone seeing the parts of your soul that you’ve shown, and remembering them only to stab you there later. Knowing anything about Gaara lore should make it clear as to why this would be a thing. It’s a special kind of terrible to be hurt by the people who are supposed to love you.

Anyway, thoughts over. It took me like a day to get my thoughts in order, so I need to zone out and recharge my brain cells. I’ll elaborate more some other time maybe, and get into those nice and horrible specifics later! If you read all this, go drink water, get a snack, and think about an animal you like.

[ellie-s-list]

Forget Me Not

Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Ah... I have not written anything on this blog for two years. It's weird that the last thing I posted was an Ellie Williams one shot since I started with Anime and MHA. However, I don't think the writing was actually bad.

And now I'm back with a Spencer Reid one-shot.

Authors Note: HIGHLY self-indulgent. I do not care. I'm writing what I want to read and maybe, just maybe, using these characters to try to heal inner trauma. If you say or have any criticisms I'm open but do not attack the obvious signs of mental health issues in this one shot. It's me. It's a self-insert. I'M NOT SORRY. But I am, please like it, and I hope that if anyone feels the same way I do that you one day find peace.

WARNINGS: Anxiety, rumination, mentions of self-deprecating thoughts, past trauma, and over all the reader has poor view of self and a poor outlook on life. Mentions parts of Avoidant Personality Disorder, shows that within the text.

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Powder blue in color, star in shape, and yellow centered. These flowers are known as Forget Me Nots, known for the meaning of true love and respect, representing a promise of remembrance from the giver. It’s not like you don’t think you would ever get flowers in such a way, but you also know that a random person, or anyone, most likely wouldn’t gift you these flowers. 

What about you doesn’t attract people? People who want to be with you, who can accept the way you act, react, what you like to do in your free time. It’s not easy to be open-minded in a close-minded world. Everyone tells other how to think, how to react, or they try to tell them how to react. 

Love sucks, unconditional love is worse. And reading the poem If You Forget Me by Pablo Neruda is like a knife to the gut, and with each line read, another twist is added to the blade. 

I want you to know one thing.

You know how this is:             if I look              at the crystal moon, at the red branch              of the slow autumn at my window,             if I touch              near the fire             the impalpable ash             or the wrinkled body of the log             everything carries me to you             as if everything that exists,             aromas, light, metals             were little boats             that sail             toward those isles of yours that wait for me

Those lines sound like a Hozier song. One of longing, crawling back to a person that you know you love, hoping to be loved back. It reminded you of customers that are regulars at your bookstore. A small little thing in the corner of Quantico Virginia, filled top to bottom with books, plants by the big windows, and homey, used furniture. 

It was Tuesday, and as usual, a slow day. Tuesdays were slow for a multitude of reasons, mostly because there’s less travel in town, around town, and the fact that school is out for the winter season. College students returned home, giving you time to restock on textbooks or notebooks, journals, and planners that usually sell out when a new semester rolled around. 

But another thing always happened on Tuesdays. At least, most of the time. 

You were on your phone, staring at the lines of the poem once again when the bell on the door rings. Glancing at the clock on your phone, you huff and look up from the table where the register was, having leant on it to read from your phone. Every Tuesday, usually, at five in the evening, an hour before close, Dr. Spencer Reid would visit your store. 

Thanks to him, your stock of books in other languages got bigger. Mostly by request, since you knew how to order directly from the source and the fact that it was a homey space. You even got a coffee pot for you small store just for him. 

“Dr. Reid,” You smiled at him as he walked up to the register. 

“Hello, I’m sorry I’m here when you’re about to close,” He presses his lips together, adjusting his messenger bag. He got a haircut, you note, realizing that his length in hair changed to a shorter, more boyish look. 

“As always, I have an hour left,” You reply. Spencer shrugs, tapping the table with his index fingers. 

“Well… would it be too late to ask you if you’d like some coffee?” He asked, voice soft as he stared down at the table. 

“I can brew you a pot—”

“No, I mean, after you close. We can go somewhere,” He replies quickly, cutting you off. 

Silence enveloped the small shop as you looked at him, then back down at the dark screen of your phone, where Pablo Neruda’s poem resided. 

Well, now,              if little by little you stop loving me             I shall stop loving you little by little

If suddenly             you forget me             do not look for me,             for I shall already have forgotten you

If you think it long and mad,             the wind of banners             that passes through my life,             and you decide             to leave me at the shore             of the heart where I have roots,             remember             that on that day,              at that hour,             I shall lift my arms             and my roots will set off             to seek another land

A few months pass after the coffee date. It was nice, knowing that Spencer actually liked you for you. Nothing seemed to phase him. Not your lifestyle, not the melancholic thoughts you got, not the way you obsess over your favorite forms of media. Nothing scared him away from you. 

Spencer liked everything about you.

Or so he says. 

You can’t help staring down at your phone, sitting alone on the couch in his apartment. He had only left you for a moment as you look at the same poem that you had the day he asked you out for the first time. What if he got bored of you? Forgot about you? Yeah, sure, he has an eidetic memory, but it’s easy to forget for a while. 

He may not forget the way you looked when you laughed, your smile, the glint in your eyes when you got excited, but he could stop caring about those things. That’s what scared you the most. Knowing that you were easily forgettable. Hell, you were forgotten your whole childhood, it’s not like Spencer couldn’t jump on the same train your family did. 

It would be easy for him. To forget you. What about you was memorable? Your true worth was only connected to the way people used you. 

But Spencer states that he doesn’t want to use you, a small voice in the back of your head shot back, pushing through the anxious thoughts and the onset rumination that was starting to build. He had figured you out easily, a perk of like a profiler you guess. But it made being with him annoying to you. You liked privacy, but he liked knowing how to make you comfortable. 

Was it always so hard to like someone? To fear that they will hurt you one day. Knowing that they will, that one day they will fit the pattern of everyone who’s hurt you before. 

The door to the bathroom opened and you turned your head, clicking off your phone screen and pasting a fake smile on your face. Spencer was wiping his hands on a towel, raising his eyebrows at you. However, before you could get one word out, he was walking over to the couch, a knowing look on his face. 

“I’m not going to hurt you like the others did,” Spencer said almost immediately. 

Liar, you thought. 

“I know,” You say instead and he frowned, knowing that you were lying, but not pushing you. 

You knew you would have to leave him first, before he would ever have that chance to hurt you. But it hurt already, knowing that you would have to hurt him. So, you endure the anxiety of knowing those patterns, just to try to sit with him and enjoy what little time you allowed yourself to have. 

But             if each day             each hour,             you feel that you are destined for me             with implacable sweetness,             if each day a flower             climbs up to your lips to seek me,             ah my love, ah my own,             in me all that fire is repeated,             in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,             my love feeds on your love, beloved,              and as long as you live it will be in your arms             without leaving mine.

Three more months later and you sat in his bathroom, the door locked, your arms shaking as you leaned over the sink, trying to quell the rising panic in your chest. But you couldn’t. He was sitting in his bedroom, after having told you he loved you for the first time. 

You couldn’t say it back. You tried. But all you could do was open your mouth and close it, fear flashing over your face. And before you knew it, you had stood up and left him sitting there, watching you as you ran into his bathroom, shut the door, and locked it.

It hurt, knowing that you loved him back and yet you couldn’t say it back. It was wrong with you. Something that hurt, hurt more than the constriction of anxiety around your heart, gripping it with such force that it hurt to breathe. The pain in your chest, in your gut, the twist of each anxious thought, of each piece of truth that you weaved for yourself, and the knowledge that you needed to leave. 

Hot tears fell from your eyes, large drops finally streaming down your cheeks. 

And a knock on the door. You flinched at the tentative sound, the perpetrator obviously nervous. 

“Hey,” Spencer’s voice called out softly. “I-I know this is hard for you, you don’t have to say it back. I just wanted to tell you.” He was begging. Not truly begging with words, but with his tone for you to understand him. 

How could you tell him that it was the fact that you loved him back that was causing this? You didn’t know how, but you knew that by the blurring of your vision that you were crying even harder. Barely any noise but choked gasps left you, your body trying to get air into your lungs as you held your breath from the fear of everything crashing down. 

“Can you open the door?” Spencer’s voice was quiet, meek. He was begging his time. 

Slowly, with all your strength, you turned the short distance and shakily unlocked it. That was all you could do before you sat on the floor and backed up until your lower back hit the bathtub. Your knees hit your chest, and you hugged them tightly, pressing your forehead into your knees. 

The door slowly opened but didn’t shut. He was giving you a way out if you needed it. It was obvious. Soft footsteps inched towards you and stopped just in front of your shaking body.

“You don’t have to say it back,” He whispered. 

It took a while for you to be able to regulate your breathing and emotions. Slowly, you managed to uncoil your body just enough to peek up at him. Spencer was crouched in front of you, his eyes facing down, hands clasped in front of his own knees. 

“I—” You hiccupped, flinching as he looked up at you. You forced yourself to keep talking, “I love you.” You finally whispered, his eyes widening before he schooled his expression. 

“I know that already, that’s why you didn’t have to say it back,” He leaned forward, gently rubbing the knuckles on one of the hands gripping your knees. “I’m not going to abandon you or hurt you that way you had been hurt in the past. You’re…” He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing as he licked his lips, glancing down and then back up at you with glistening eyes. “You won’t believe me, but I don’t care how many times I will have to say it to get past your traumatic past, to get past the words of those who hurt you in the past.” He squeezed the hand he managed to pry from your knees. “I love you, and I’m not just going to leave.” 

Was it the wind that blew through the trees or the singing of birds that caught your eye? Or was it the first time that you had a partner on Valentine’s Day that kept your thought’s light, now able to appreciate the little things this life had to offer you. 

Maybe, it was Spencer. Spencer and the bouquet of flowers he held out to you, on the other side of the register in your empty bookstore. 

It wasn’t a Tuesday. 

But that didn’t matter. 

Forget Me Nots adorned your living room that night in a pale yellow vase. 

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Word Count: 1,991

Posted one: 1/25/2025

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVING MY CONTENT POSTED BY OTHERS UNLESS SHARED ON TUMBLR THROUGH REPOSTING MY ORIGINAL WORK. DO NOT USE MY WORK FOR AI TRAINING.

References:

Neruda, P. (n.d.). If You Forget Me. allpoetry.com. https://allpoetry.com/if-you-forget-me

[gfthe-fearsome-foursome]

*A flash of fear flickered in Stanford’s eyes, the cold pressure of ghostly fingers pressing against his neck. But before the fear could fully take hold, his gaze hardened, sharpening into a steely focus. Was he seriously being threatened? The way his counterpart acted— like some entitled child— was nauseating. All this power, this display of strength and bravado, only to use it for something so pathetic? To act like a spoiled brat? It was sickening.*

*His hands clenched into fists so tightly his knuckles turned white, but Ford held himself back. His composure remained terrifyingly intact, the simmering fury beneath his calm surface threatening to explode at any moment, yet he held it in check.*

"You speak of truth."

*He said, his voice steady but sharp.*

"But the more I listen, the more I'm inclined to believe you’re simply projecting."

*Everyone else around him was holding their breath, their panic palpable. It was understandable. The smart thing to do was to shut up, to step back and let this Ford variant believe whatever he wanted. But to do that would be to surrender. And Stanford would not, could not, allow himself to give in— not when the outcome of this conversation was essentially hinging on his response.*

*He could already see it, the other man’s posturing, the way he acted like his version of the truth was absolute. Like the words he spoke were the law of the land. The beauty of the multiverse theory— what might have been impossible in one world was always a possibility in another. So that didn’t mean his counterpart’s experience was universal.*

*The brief tugging on his coat pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts. Bill was clutching at the fabric, hiding behind him like a shield. Beige canvas crumpled within his fingers. The sudden protectiveness made Stanford’s chest tighten. He wasn't about to abandon Bill— not now, not ever.*

*Ford could dare to think the implications of his counterpart's words later. He shook off the fleeting distraction, focusing again on the other man. Caution be damned.*

"The same story, told by different people, becomes a thousand truths. If you claim to be who you say you are, you should understand that better than anyone."

*His eyes narrowed, the simmering frustration in him turning into something far colder. Pity. He couldn’t help it. This variant was pathetic. There was a weakness in him that everyone could see clearly now, a desperation masked by an inflated sense of self.*

"What you deem the truth isn’t universal. It’s always filtered through the lens of our own experiences. What could’ve happened for you, for many… that doesn’t mean it will happen for me."

*Stanford didn’t know what he expected out of this version of his counterpart. The man who deemed himself an oracle. He didn’t know what would happen if this reached a boiling point. But what he did know was that it wouldn’t be the same outcome as it had been in other universes.*

*With a quiet motion, he extended his arm behind him, his hand gently holding Bill close, as if to shield him from the mounting tension in the room. The blonde had been trying to hide, and Stanford had known from the beginning that Bill’s own vulnerabilities ran deeper than anyone cared to acknowledge.*

*They rarely talked about such painful experiences, and at some point— Ford realized that the silence in those moments spoke volumes. Those late nights needed no words shared, just the safety you could only feel with somebody you trusted heart, mind and soul.*

*Had this variant of his counterpart used that vulnerability against him? Given how he spoke of his Bill, it wouldn’t be surprising. But Stanford had no desire to uncover the grim details. This wasn’t his problem.*

*And that, he realized, was exactly what his counterpart didn’t understand. Whatever had happened to them, whatever they had gone through, would never touch him. He was confident of that. Even if it cost him everything, he would stand firm in that belief.*

*After all, Stanford was still young— painfully young compared to his weathered variants. He wasn’t naive enough to believe nothing would come back to haunt him, but that was a risk he was willing to take. If his truth cost him, then so be it. He would stand by it, knowing he’d chosen his own path.*

"We are similar, not the same. I choose to refuse your truth as much as you opt to refuse mine."

*Stanford didn't believe in fate, he made his choices of his own accord.*

"Now isn't... this... interesting~?"

@the-muses-puppeteer

*The four of them couldn't help but stare, their eyes locking on the figure before them. It was undeniably Ford— or at least an obvious version of him— but the sight of the man had each of them reeling in their own way.*

"WHO???"

*Stan’s voice cracked slightly as he stumbled back a step, his finger jabbing toward the otherworldly variant. His eyes darted between the figure and his brother, his tone a wild mix of confusion, fear, and outright disbelief. He gripped the back of a chair for support, as though bracing himself for the sheer absurdity of it all.*

"Why does he have so many eyes?"

*Fiddleford stepped closer to Stan, his voice low but tinged with alarm. His brows furrowed deeply as he leaned forward, squinting at the glowing figure like it was an unsolvable equation. Concern dripped from every word, his mind clearly racing to process the sight before him.*

"Fordsy, why do you have so many copies?"

*Bill attempted a laugh, his tone light and teasing, but the pitch betrayed his nerves. His gaze flicked from the variant to the Ford he knew, his hands fidgeting as if unsure whether to gesture in disbelief or shield himself from potential doom. Something about the other Stanford sent chills down his spine.*

"SAYS THE ONE WITH A TRIANGLE FOR A CLONE???"

*Ford threw his arms in the air, his exasperation boiling over. His sharp tone was laced with frustration as he turned to Bill, clearly fed up with the double standards. His expression twisted between irritation and something dangerously close to betrayal as he gestured toward the variant that bore his likeness.*

"Who are you?! And why do you look like me?!"

[courtingchaos]

I’m just here as your friendly neighborhood podcast listener and current layabout with not much going on.

I’ve seen a few things about Eddie and the community turning on him quickly. I think a lot of things people aren’t remembering or realizing is just how prevalent the satanic panic was, and is, in the US.

Now there’s no chance that everyone in Hawkins hated Eddie and believed the satanic stuff. I mean, look at everyone in Hellfire. I guarantee parents were wary at first but then Eddie shows up like a goofball or has a string of ma’am’s and sir’s and they realize he’s just a kid with a lot attached to his name from a lot of terrible circumstances.

Anyways. A good thing to listen to is the You’re Wrong About podcast. Specifically these episodes.

Very first one of the podcast:

And then these two both have multiple parts to them, the first one is actually about the book that kind of jumpstarted the whole panic to begin with.

This also has multiple parts. This one is about someone getting seduced by a ‘satanic cult’.

These would have been books that while not everyone would have had one in their home, anyone who was devout or at the least religious, would have bought or read their own copy.

Basically all I’m getting at is that Eddie would have had a lot going against him. I know that a lot of people didn’t want to read Flight of Icarus but Eddie’s character is built on a very shaky foundation. The town dogpiling when the ‘Queen Bee’ gets killed, especially if they’ve already decided that he is a satanist? It was only a matter of time.

[whenthegoldrays]

overthinking … nooo ……

[avastyetwats]

Fair point. Fet was just so taken aback by his offer, he wanted to make sure. But honestly, he didn't even know if Quinlan was capable of lying or of trickery unless it was to take down an enemy. Used to, Fet didn't even think he knew what a joke was, or what humor, in general, was, until recently when he discovered just how sassy and sarcastic The Born could be. Having been on the receiving end of it and watching it happen to others. It was funny as fuck when it was happening to others, though. He got a kick out of Quinlan annihilating others with his words. That sword on his back wasn't his only weapon.

Oh, shit. He was coming closer. His heart rate was picking up again, beating harder and faster, his blood pumping furiously through his veins. The blush had returned to his face again, too. "But...?" He swallowed, daring to look up into those bright, icy blue eyes, though Fet didn't see any coldness within them in this moment. Nor did he hear it in his voice. In fact, this was probably the softest he's ever heard his voice and it was... doing things to him. Both relaxing and arousing him. He started wondering things... such as the feeling of his skin against Quinlan's, even something so simple such as his hand on Quinlan's arm. Was he cool to the touch? Like vampires were in the fictional stories? No... Fet didn't think so, because standing this close to him, he felt nothing but warmth. But his hand twitched, as though wanting to find out for himself. But even then, his breath wasn't cold. They were close enough for Fet to confirm that much.

“ I would very much like to experience these things with you. “

Oh, the way he said that. And how his eyes remained locked on Fet. That was more than just strigoi and human, that was more than just one species wanting to learn about the other... that was Quinlan wanting to experience things with him, wanting to spend time with him. Wanting to know him. So he... he felt the same way, then? He felt all the things Fet was feeling? He couldn't even respond before Quinlan was then asking if it was a date and he said it with a smile. Not meant to tease him, but a genuine smile. One of excitement at the thought of spending time with him, at the possibility of it being a date. Was it a date?

What kind of stupid question is that, Fet? Your heart is hammering in your chest just from standing so close to him. You're wondering how it would feel to touch him, to hold his damn hand, earlier you were offering your blood to him and questioning if it was orgasmic while imagining it in your own mind and now you're wondering what it would be like to kiss him.

That was answer enough.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I, um," he clears his throat. "I guess it could be, yeah. If that's what you're wanting, uh, hoping it to be." Only if that's what Quinlan also wanted. Assuming he understood what a date was and he seemed to. "But," he sighed. "it would be best to wait until the master is gone. Until the strigoi aren't running the streets. When New York is at it's most beautiful. That's what you deserve." Not like it was now. Overrun with the munchers, the streets and walls stained with blood and bodies. "Besides, you've said it before... we don't have any time to waste." They needed to stop the Master. "After, though." Finally feeling brave enough, he lifted his hand to touch his arm and his heart did a little flutter. "I promise."

Quinlan could both hear and feel his heart beating fast, and it made him wonder. He’d caught him briefly staring at him in a way he wasn’t as familiar with. Perhaps if he could blush, he would have. Those deep eyes of Fet’s could dive deep into your soul. He had to sdmit, for a human he was quite the specimen. Strong, fierce willed, and yet so soft and gentle beneath. It was a combination that he indeed had come to fancy.

He smiled a little to himself. “ Precisely. He’s been targeting silos already and removing the weapons himself. We just have to beat him at his own game. “ But just then, feeling warm, Quinlan changed the subject and for once it was something lighter. “ I-.. could teach you some of these languages if you desired. I’m not exactly fluent in all of them, however my Sunerian is rather good. “ Why was he doing this? Was this an attempt at flirtation? Frankly, he didn’t know how, but something about Fet simply pulled him in:

“ And I assume we’ll have plenty of time for me to show you a few things. We will be out in the wilderness, after all. Besides staying alive, warm, and fed, it may help to pass the time. “

[ribbonknot]

sometimes i feel like rn it's really understated just how bad things could be if trump wins. like, actually. i feel like it's being forgotten that despite how bad things are right now, they would surely get WORSE.

[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.