#i think that’s a long enough of a thing to make sure I’m just not grasping at the first idea I had just out of desperation

[kamiversee]

˗ˏˋ My Love Note ´ˎ˗

1 | Something about you

❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.

❧ Content | flirting, language, suggestiveness, fluff, & faint sexual tension.

❧ Word Count | 7.1k (we're starting off strong it seems...)

❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader.

| Chapters mlist |

——Congratulations, you’ve nearly escaped hell— not-so-happily entering your final year of university as time stands currently. And y’know what, you think you’ve coasted through most of your college years drama-free. Well, aside from freshman year you suppose, everyone fucks up around that time…

But that’s a tale for another day, right now, you’re finding yourself waltzing into an entirely different plotline— with your head held high as you waltz toward a newfound cafe that you haven’t had the pleasure of finding for the past four years. Up until today, you’ve just barely been stomaching dining hall caffeine. Which, to say the least, isn’t nearly as savory or energizing as coffee from your local cafe. 

Four years you’ve been going to this school and yet here you were walking right into an establishment you swear simply spawned out of nowhere because you pass this street all the damn time and you don’t remember this place being here a week ago. Yet, when you enter the cafe and spot a sign that says they’ve been there for the past three years, you begin to realize that maybe you should start going out a bit more…

Nonetheless, you mentally claimed that if the coffee here was bad, you’d walk right out and return to never acknowledging the place. But hey, when you do push past those double doors, fingers wrapped around a warm metal handle, a waft of smoky coffee aromas simmering into your nose, and spot a rather attractive cashier first thing, you’re quick to tell yourself that maybe shitty coffee might be worth a few things.

Especially seeing as six staggering feet of height, fluffy bright white locks of hair, and the most dazzling set of blue eyes take notice of your entering seconds after you’ve stepped inside— how could you not tell yourself that terrible coffee may be worth digesting so long as you get to drink in this tall, fine man whose name you note as Gojo as you near him and read the tag on his apron.

“Suguru, it seems the gods have finally answered my prayers,” Gojo yells back to someone you can’t quite see yet. His eyes were all over you, drinking you in just as you were him. The tall man receives a laugh from somewhere further behind him before he redirects his words to you, “To what do I have the pleasure of serving you today, sweetheart?”

Your lips parted as you approached the counter fully, your eyes lingering on his far longer than they should’ve. “Uh,” And you were making a fool out of yourself already, great, “It’s my first time here, so I’m not too sure…” Okay, that’s a decent enough save considering how your words earn a half smile from the man in front of you who tilts his head and eyes you down.

And fuck if he wasn’t every bit of intimidating looking down at you like that. He places a single hand onto the counter space in front of him, leaning forward just a bit before turning his head back to take a glance at the menu hanging up, as if he didn’t have it memorized already, “Well, for first-timers I usually recommend anything but our coffee.”

You bat your lashes at the man for a moment as he returns his attention to you, “Seriously? That’s the one thing I came in here for…”

“Ah, well,” Gojo clicks his tongue and shrugs a bit, leaning toward you just to whisper, “Y’gotta come here when I’m in the back.”

You lean forward, intrigued by his words, “…Why?”

“Cause’ Suguru doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing,” Gojo chuckles a bit and you reciprocate before pushing your brows together questioningly. “Suguru, my best fr-, my coworker.” He clarifies quickly.

“Ohh,” You nod, “So should I come back another time, or…?”

“Nono, you caught me a few minutes before rush hour,” Gojo says rather cheerfully before he leans away from you and flashes a smile, “I can run back there ‘nd make ya’ somethin’ since we’re not too busy?”

At that, you take a moment to glance around the cafe interior, spotting one, maybe two people sitting on their laptops and languidly sipping or munching away at their breakfast. You’re glad you came in when you did.

Not only did you get the chance to talk to Gojo, who you turn back to seconds later with a nod, but you also got the chance to get not-so-shitty coffee according to the man. “Yeah, actually. That’d be nice,” You hum to him.

Gojo dramatically moves to stretch his arms, clasping his hands together before extending them out with a heavy sigh, as if he were preparing to do such a difficult task. “Alrighty then, is there any specific kinda coffee you’re lookin’ for?”

“Still my first time here, Gojo. So, no…” The way you say his name so suddenly has him wondering if you knew him from somewhere. But, you quickly smile a little and nod your chin to his name tag, to which he looks down and laughs at himself. “Surprise me,” You then say moments later.

“Surprise you?” Gojo echoes.

You shrug sheepishly, “If that’s not too much work for you-“

“No, I don’t mind. I can surprise ya’,” His smile at you deepens and you catch the slightest dip in his cheeks as the most enamoring set of dimples pops out to your gaze. “Buuut, before I do… Do you have any allergies or dislikes I should be wary of?”

You hum, “Uh, no I don’t think so? I’m feeling rather open-minded today so, just bring me something good enough to have me returning for more.”

“Yeah? I mean, I’m sure you’ll come back for somethin’ else aside from jus’ coffee,” Gojo laughs to himself at his own comment and your eyes simply widen, a cute lil’ tilt of your head catching his attention.

You chuckle nervously, “What else would I come back for if not coffee?”

He shrugs before slowly turning away, “Oh, I dunno… Perhaps a certain handsome cashier that’s caught your eye?”

Oh, you see where he’s going with this. It may have been a while but, you know what flirting looks like. “Is this handsome cashier in the room with us, or…?” You tease with a smile on your face, watching the way Gojo freezes and he sends you this look that you have to try your hardest not to laugh at.

He nearly pouts, “W-Well, yeah, obviously. You’re lookin’ at him.”

Your brows lift, “Am I?”

Gojo narrows those pretty blue eyes of his at you, “Do you not find me handsome?”

“Say I didn’t,” You murmur tauntingly, “Wouldn’t you be really embarrassed?”

The corner of his lips twitch before he scoffs playfully, “What are you, some kinda masochist?”

You giggle, “No, but seein’ that pout on your face was kinda cute.”

“Pout?” Gojo gasps dramatically, “Hah, what pout?” He scoffs again before straightening his face and attempting to be serious with you, “I didn’t pout-“

“You totally did,” You cut off, peering right into those mesmerizing eyes of his— damn, it was almost like you couldn’t get yourself to look away.

“I did not,” Gojo corrects your statement, lower lip poking out once more into a pout.

You shrug and finally get yourself to glance off to the side, “It was cute.”

He instantly tilts his head at that, ears perking up, “Y’think I’m cute?”

“I do.” You hum simply with your eyes wandering right back over to his face.

There’s this little moment between the two of you, a spark if you will, where you both just meet one another’s eyes and admire each other. Is this what mutual attraction feels like?

Perhaps if you squinted, you would’ve noticed the faintest shade of pink decorating his cheeks, “I-,” Gojo swallows suddenly, “Why thank you, sweetheart,” He utters suavely, as if to save himself from embarrassment. After which, he clears his throat, “That aside, we’ve got about six minutes before people start rushin’ in here ‘nd it’ll take two for me to prepare that coffee of yours so, do you mind givin’ me a name?”

You blink, “A name…?”

“Your name,” Gojo clarifies.

“Oh! Sorry,” You’re quick to apologize for your moment of daze, giving him your name seconds later to make up for it.

He starts to smile again, “That’s your name?”

“Yes?” You utter almost confusedly. Was there something wrong-

“It’s pretty,” Gojo interrupts your thoughts completely and your eyes go all wide all over again, a small feature in which he finds absolutely adorable.

“T-Thank you,” You stammer out, turning away to now avoid the eye contact you once couldn’t tear yourself away from.

“Uhuh,” His eyes scan you up and down once more before he sighs, “I’ll be back in a sec’, sweets,” Gojo says finally.

God, you think the nickname he threw out has your heart racing because it made your face so utterly hot. Almost as if you don’t hear nicknames like that on a daily basis…

Aside from that, you gave Gojo one last nod before looking back over your shoulder to see if anyone was coming yet. He’d told you that there was only a few minutes until rush hour so you were a bit wary that people would appear out of nowhere in the next-

“So you’re the girl that’s got Satoru all giggly, huh?” A voice purrs from somewhere in front of you.

Quickly, you return your gaze forward and spot a man, equally as tall as Gojo, with long dark hair, slim eyes, and a really pretty face— holy shit, how many hot guys work here??

“Uh,” You’re stuttering again, tipping your head to the side, “…Satoru?” You repeat, confused by the person he’s referring to.

The man chuckles, “Gojo,” He tells you, “Satoru Gojo,” You nod at the clarification and he grins warmly.

“Oh, then yeah I guess so,” You shrug sheepishly before flashing a smile, “So then that means you must be Suguru-“

“Geto,” He’s so quick to correct you that you almost immediately shut up, swallowing down your words as if you’d said something wrong. “Sorry, I assume Satoru told you my first name?”

You steadily nod, avoiding eye contact with him out of embarrassment, “He did…”

“As expected,” Geto hums before letting out a long sigh, “Just call me by me last, I don’t know you too well so I’m sure you understand.”

You hum, “Right, sorry.”

It’s a tad bit awkward for the next few seconds after that mild conversation but when you hear Gojo yelling from somewhere in the back, the awkwardness quickly subsides.

You even spot Gojo popping his head out from around the corner just to speak to his coworker, “Suguru don’t scare her off jus’ cause you have a girlfriend-“

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Geto interrupts, sharp with his correction as he glances back over his shoulder.

Gojo snorts, “Fine then, girl who’s a friend that you like-“

“I don't-,” A sigh leaves Geto’s lips before he’s moving to pinch the bridge of his nose, groaning afterward, “Just hurry up with the damn coffee before people start comin’ in.”

Your eyes somehow find Gojo’s and you watch him mouth out something to you, “He’s grouchy because his girlfriend’s ignorin’ him-“

“Satoru,” Geto says scoldingly, causing Gojo to flinch dramatically.

Then you see the white-haired man laugh before winking at you and dipping back around the corner. After which, you don’t even realize you’re smiling until you meet Geto’s gaze and feel your expression drop at the glare he’s giving you.

“What?” You murmur warrily, raising a brow at his plain look.

Geto tilts his head and studies your face for a mere moment, “You new around here or somethin’?”

“New to this cafe, yeah,” You explain, “Why?”

He shrugs, “I’ve learned most of our customer’s faces and majority of them live around the area but I’ve never seen you before.”

“I live not too far from campus but I wasn’t aware this cafe was here until today…” You explain steadily, earning somewhat of an intrigued expression from the man.

“Damn, really?”

You nod, “Mhm.”

“So, wait,” Geto scoffs a little at the thought, “Don’t tell me you’ve been stomaching dining hall caffeine all this time.”

You chuckle and glance off to the side, “Well…”

“If you live near campus, how the hell are you just now finding us??” Geto questions, he seems genuinely confused by your cluelessness.

Your shoulders lift into a shrug, “I don’t go out much.”

“Maybe you should,” He tells you.

A thin lipped smile tugs at your lips, “Starting to realize that now, thanks.”

The man opens his mouth to say something but he’s cut off by Gojo returning from the back and placing a hand on his shoulder, to which Geto glances down at.

“Alrighty Suguru, thanks for not scaring the pretty lady away!” Gojo says cheerfully as he pushes past his friend and makes eye contact with you.

Geto’s brows push together, “You’re welcome? I don’t know how I would’ve scared her, I-“

Gojo unintentionally cuts him off with a laugh, “You’ve been kinda grouchy towards women ever since you met-“

“Fuck off,” He grumbles, brushing off Gojo’s hand on his shoulder and turning to make his way to the back once more.

“See what I mean?” Gojo hums to himself.

Then Geto laughs, “You’re not a woman are you?”

“Suguruuu,” Gojo whines, turning his head back to his friend who’s already disappeared from his line of vision. Then, Gojo sighs and looks to you again, “Ah whatever, ignore him, he sucks sometimes.”

You grin, “You guys are best friends, aren’t you?”

The way Gojo tilts his head almost innocently is kinda cute, “How can you tell?”

“Mine acts similarly,” You explain, thinking of your best friend who’s not the nicest person in the world.

“Yeah?” Gojo hums, “An asshole once they get into a relationship?”

“I’m not in a relationship, Satoru!” Geto calls out from the back.

You watch as Gojo rolls his eyes at his friend's refutation of his claims. Looking somewhat off to the side, your thoughts wander more so toward your best friend, “Well, no, he’s kinda just an asshole all around.”

“Really? Why’re you his best friend then?” You’ve always found this question funny considering most people are confused about how you and your best friend are even friends when most times you two don’t get along.

Instead of really answering Gojo’s question, you look up at him and smile, “I could ask you the same thing, no?”

His brows furrow and he scoffs, “What? No, Suguru’s just grouchy today, I promise he’s usually better than that.”

You nod, “I see…”

“Anyway,” Gojo extends his hand out to you, “Here, give this a try,” He offers, handing a decently sized cold drink to you.

You receive the item and look down at it, “You’re not trying to poison me right?”

Gojo laughs, “Aaand why ever would I do that?”

The cup is steadily lifted to your lips as you lift your eyes to him once more, “I dunno, men are weird.”

“That they are,” He chuckles, “But no, that’d be illegal and I have no intentions of harming you.”

Again, you just nod at that and then take that first sip of the surprise drink he’d given you. A strong taste of vanilla and a nearly overwhelming amount of coffee creamer hits your tastebuds. You smile but you’re a bit taken back by how sweet it is. One, it’s way better than any cup of coffee you’ve ever had from the dining hall and two, it’s a lot sweeter than you were expecting.

“Holy fuck, how much sugar did you put in this thing?” You utter in surprise as you move the cup away from your mouth and glance at it as if that’ll give you the answer to your question.

Gojo lets out a laugh, “You said to surprise you.”

“Yeah but this is sweet as hell,” You tell him, your eyes raking over the cup in your hand.

“Sweet drink for a sweet girl, I don’t see a problem,” He responds with a little lean toward you.

“Right and-,” You scoff, eyes narrowing at the very lousy print of your name on the cup, “Who’s…” You almost laugh, “Christ, your handwriting is shit.”

Gojo lets out a huff, “Okay, first off, my handwriting is not that bad. And secondly-”

You’re quick to turn the cup to him and lift it, “Look at it!”

“Oh.” He squints his eyes at it, “Shit, that is kinda bad…” Gojo mumbles with an amused little smile on his face.

“Yeah, I can’t even read this…” You laugh, returning the cup to yourself, “But that’s okay, I appreciate the effort,” His smile grows at your comforting words as you then look up at him once more, “How much?”

“Since my handwriting’s so shit,” He starts, tilting his head at you and shrugging, “Consider it on the house.”

Your eyes seem to light up, “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” Gojo hums.

“Aw, thank you,” Who would you be to ever pass up something free? Especially given by this cheeky cashier before you.

“Anytime-”

Geto’s voice intrudes from the back, “Satoru I thought I told you to change these filters? And why’d you leave such a big mess, holy shit.”

Gojo yells back to his coworker, slightly looking over his shoulder, “The mess isn’t that bad is it?”

You snort, “If it’s anything like your handwriting then uh…”

“Alright,” Gojo’s quick to look at you once more, “You just got a free drink out of me so I don’t wanna hear anything from you.”

“Satoru, these filters aren’t gonna change themselves,” Geto nags further.

You watch as Gojo rolls his eyes and yells back to his friend yet again, “You’re literally back there already, change them yourself.”

“Nope, it’s your turn,” Geto argues.

Gojo frowns, “But-”

“The girl’s not goin’ anywhere anytime soon,” At that, you blink in surprise. How does he know you’re not ready to leave just yet? “Get your ass back here,” Geto orders.

Gojo turns his head and looks at you almost pleadingly.

You giggle, “What? Sounds like you’ve got some filters to change, Gojo…”

“Y’know what,” He scoffs and nods his chin to the cup in your hand, “$5.45.”

Your head cocks back a little and your brows go up, “I’m sorry?”

“The drink,” Gojo hums simply, looking back to make sure Geto wasn’t on his way out to scold him some more just yet, “Since you wanna take his side over mine…”

The way you frown misses Gojo’s eyes up until he turns to look at you one last time, his eyes going wide as you try to defend yourself, “I wasn’t-”

“S’fine, I got it,” An entirely different voice grumbles from your right, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. So close to you, an arm slips right past your face and you watch as an all too familiar man extends a card out to Gojo.

Your lashes bat a few times as an annoyingly familiar scent of cologne rushes into your nose. You’d literally just escaped said smell a few hours ago after leaving your apartment and yet here it was all over again, directly in your nose and you met the side profile of your best friend, “Choso?” You utter.

Whatever light and fluffy banter that was in the air seconds ago seems to die at the mere presence of Choso standing so closely beside you. Ignoring you, he urges Gojo to take his card and Gojo soon does so with a scoff— he was going to keep flirting and teasing you but here comes this all-too-serious-looking man taking your vacant side as if it were second nature.

The smile Gojo once had on his face simmered down and his expression became a lot more neutral as he quietly moved to charge Choso’s card.

After which, your best friend finally looks down at you, his eyes pointed in a glare that would make anyone feel unloved despite you knowing he feels quite the opposite (to some extent at least), “Don’t you have class in an hour?” Choso asks you in a dull monotone.

Your face scrunches up slightly before you shrug, “I was thirsty…”

Choso stares at you for a long moment, glances at Gojo, then back to you with a scoff, “Yeah, clearly.”

“What’s that supposed to mean-,” You’re cut off by Choso taking his eyes off of you and receiving his card back from Gojo, the two men making eye contact once more and both looking as if the other had done something to offend them. Your best friend openly scoffs in Gojo’s face before pocketing his card and turning away, quickly walking out of the establishment.

Your eyes go wide, “Choso, wait!” You call out as your eyes followed him walking away from you. Only to be ignored again, you let out a huff and start to walk after him but turn back to Gojo one last time, “Sorry about him.”

Gojo’s expression seems to light back up a bit and he shrugs, “You’re fine.”

You nod and start turning away before remembering something and looking at Gojo yet again, slightly pointing at him, “You owe me a free drink by the way,” You remind him playfully.

His face is twisting right back up into that intrigued expression from earlier, “Do I now? And what for?”

“Your shitty handwriting of course,” You hum.

"Hm," He takes a second to think before letting out a slight huff. You then feel and watch the way his eyes glide up and down your body before he responds to you, "Alright."

And with that, both of you smile at one another one last time before you go running off to catch up with Choso. Gojo watches you almost in some kinda trance as you leave, spotting more customers approaching but ignoring them for the most part as his gaze remains glued to you until you’re completely out of his line of vision.

Then, he lets out this breathy little sigh, “Fuck…” Moving to wipe his face off as if that’ll rid himself of whatever the hell he’s feeling after talking to you. 

He didn’t even get to ask you for your number like he wanted to…

With perfect timing, “Satoru, the-”

“Filters, yeah yeah, I got it,” Gojo cuts Geto off completely, turning around to see his friend emerging from the back as they both swap places due to the approaching rush hour.

· · ─────── · ꨄ · ─────── · ·

Outside, you were met with a slap of heat as soon as you exited the cafe, your eyes searching the area for Choso. A slight breeze of refreshing wind brushes over your skin as you finally spot the man having not gotten too far away.

Barely managing to catch up to him, you nudge Choso on his arm as soon as you meet his side, “Why’d you pay for my drink? I could’ve done that myself.”

Just as he did earlier inside the cafe, he acts as though you’re not even there, keeping his gaze forward and pretending he didn’t hear a single thing you just said.

“Choso? Hello??” You huff out, nudging him on his arm again.

His lip twitches into a scowl and he just barely side-eyes you, “What?”

You ignore all of his attitude, as you typically do, “Why’d you pay?”

“You’re a walking charity case,” Choso hums all too casually.

Your head goes back and you scoff, “I-, what? No, I’m not!” Then the back of your hand is landing on his arm as you hit him and he almost smiles.

Finding amusement in your reaction, he shrugs, “Yeah you are,” And before you can even try to get a response out, the cup of coffee in your hand is stripped from your grasp faster than you could blink. Choso removes the top and takes a sip, “Ew, you like this shit?” He scowls, placing the top right back on and handing you your drink back.

You blink, struggling to process a logical reasoning behind his action, “First off, no one told your ass to take a sip. And secondly-”

“I wanted to know what you got,” Choso cuts off, glancing at you to watch how quickly you get annoyed by him.

You groan, “You could’ve asked if that was the case.” He shrugs your words off and you roll your eyes at him, “And how the hell did you know I was in there anyway?”

“I didn’t,” Choso tells you, “I always go in there but today I happened to see your short ass at the counter when I walked in.”

You’re quick to shoot him a glare, “Stop that, I’m not short.”

He’s got this arrogant little grin on his face, “Look short t’me.”

“That’s because you’re taller than me, which doesn’t make you tall in general nor does it make me short.” You explain to the man simply with your eyes shooting daggers into the side of his face.

Choso continues to act as though you’re not even looking at him, “Being shorter than me makes you short-”

“And y’know what,” You cut off, tearing your eyes off of your overly bothersome friend, “You’re annoying.”

He cocks his head back, “Annoying? I’m annoying?” Finally, he looks at you, now searching the side of your face for answers.

“Yeah, very.” You hum.

Choso scoffs and then sizes you up and down, “Says the one who was gawkin’ over Gojo Satoru of all people.”

You nearly laugh, “Fucks’ that supposed to mean? How would that make me annoying?”

“He’s a weirdo,” Choso shrugs, pocketing his hands as he faces forward once more, “I can’t understand what you could possibly find attractive about him.”

You blink and both of you slow down in the pace of your steps, “I talked to him for less than ten minutes, how was I supposed to know he’s weird. And wait-, how does me finding him attractive even annoy you?”

Your best friend sighs and his words come out all too casually for them to be so offensive, “Cause when he breaks your heart,” Choso looks at you, “You’ll come bitchin’ to me about it.”

At that, you freeze, quickly turning to meet his gaze, “Who says he’ll break my heart? And bitching? Is that what you call me talking to you about my relationship issues?? Bitching? Seriously?” With your eyes narrowed and brows tightly knit together, Choso should’ve sensed that he struck a nerve there.

Yet, he seems to not care in the slightest, blinking as if he’d said nothing wrong, “Fuck else am I supposed to call it? I warn you about every guy you date but you don’t ever listen to me.”

Your face twists up, “That doesn’t make my complaints ‘bitching’…”

“Well, it makes it fucking annoying,” He hums before pulling his lips into a thin smile— mocking you through facial expressions.

Your brows go up, “Really? Okay then, sorry for ever confiding in you,” You set your eyes straight once more, “I’ll just go find someone else to-”

“You know no one else is gonna put up with your shit the same way I do,” He’s so quick to dismiss your little statement, almost as if the implication of you ever leaving him, in a sense, bothered him.

You scoff matter-of-factly, “That’s not true.”

“It literally is though,” Choso deadpans, “You have one friend and that’s me. Who the hell else are you gonna go rant to, hm?”

“Someone that doesn’t call my rants bitching.” You huff, crossing your arms over one another.

Choso scales his eyes down to your arms and he smiles, “Are you seriously mad about that?”

“Maybe,” You shrug.

His feet come to a stop and you follow suit, turning to avoid his eyes as much as possible. Choso stares at you for a moment before leaning toward you, tilting his head and angling his lips toward your ear.

All of which done so he could whisper to you, “M’sorry, princess,” Choso murmurs to you affectionately, “Y’know I didn’t mean that seriously, I’m jus’ fuckin’ with you.”

You remain unphased for a mere moment more before the constant brush of his breath against your skin makes you shudder, your hands moving to his chest to push him away, “Yeah, whatever… And stop calling me that.”

Choso blinks, feeling confused since you act as if he hadn’t been calling you such a thing for years, “Why?”

“Cause I don’t like it…” You so clearly lie— not that you enjoyed the nickname but more so that you’ve always felt indifferent to it. Or, almost always.

He smirks, “Your face is telling me an entirely different story.”

“Yeah?” You chuckle, moving to shoot your middle finger at him, “And what story does this tell you?’

Choso stares into your eyes for a long period of time before looking to your finger, smiling fully and tilting his head again, “…You wanna fuck me?”

Immediately putting your finger down, your brows tense, “What? No!” You exclaim, groaning as you return to your walking, “God, I cannot stand you.”

He laughs and follows right alongside you, “You’re so easy to annoy, holy shit.”

“And you’re insufferable,” You huff.

Choso shrugs simply, “You love me though.”

You glance at him, “Debatable.”

He pouts and pretends to clutch his heart, “Ouch-”

“Anyway,” Returning your attention to someone much less annoying than the man beside you, you nod your head back toward the cafe, “Do you know if he’s single?”

Choso nearly trips over his steps at the sound of that, letting out a cough, “Who-, Gojo??”

You nod, “Mhm.”

“Why?” Choso’s lips twitch, “You lookin’ to get rejected?”

Pausing, you look to him with a quirked brow, “Excuse me? What makes you think I’ll get rejected?”

“You’re uh…” He trails off a little, eyes lingering down your frame before he smiles and speaks to you in this faux gentle whisper, “Not his type, sweetie.”

Your eyes roll at that, “Okay, first of all, fuck you. Secondly, how do you know?”

“Uh, I’ve seen the kinda girls he’s into so trust me when I say…” Choso’s eyes shift to peer directly into yours, “It ain’t you.”

You stare back for a moment before shaking your head and looking off, “Whatever, you’re just saying that.”

“Yeah because I’m gonna lie to you about something like that,” He snickers to himself before rolling his eyes. Within seconds, he goes to look at you again only to see you heading in a different direction, “Hey! Where’re you goin’?”

“Away from you!” You call back.

He laughs yet again, “What, you can’t handle the truth now?”

Glancing back to him, “I’m gonna prove you wrong asshole.”

Choso flashes you a shit-eating grin as if he’s already begun praying on your downfall, “Sure you will.”

He then watches as you further away from him, his smile steadily fading as he catches himself a bit too happy at the sight of you so determined. Choso shrugs off whatever feeling the topic of Gojo Satoru had brought up within him, dismissing the entire thing as he truly believed you’d never really get yourself too involved with that guy.

Unfortunately for him, he didn’t see the way you were taking to Gojo before he walked in so, Choso had no idea of how things were about to play out within the next few hours.

· · ─────── · ꨄ · ─────── · ·

As such, after that morning class of yours that extended decently into the afternoon, you found yourself rushing back to the cafe as soon as you could.

You knew not of Gojo’s working hours so you had no clue whether or not he’d still be there but you sure as hell hoped so. Choso had really ticked you off with his claims.

You not being Gojo’s type? Yeah right, he didn’t see the way that cashier was looking at you, nor did he hear all the banter that took place. Given that, you were determined to prove your dear friend wrong and yourself right. You know flirting when you see it and that’s exactly what Gojo was doing.

So to say he wasn’t at least intrigued by you would be a blatant lie you had every hope on exposing to Choso.

When you finally find yourself entering that lovely little cafe, it’s a lot more busy in comparison to earlier— something you take note of for your possible future visits. The line wasn’t exactly too long but quite a few people were hanging out or studying throughout the establishment.

That aside, your eyes were quick to search for a certain white-haired barista, gaze lighting up the very second it meets the man it questions. 

Gojo had a weary smile on his face as he handed some girl a coffee and you could tell based on his eyes alone that he was tired of the chick rambling to him. He nodded and nodded, trying to keep himself appearing entertained by whatever she was saying but when he glances over and spots you, all his attention is diverted.

Those pretty blue eyes of his fixate on you and you watch as he finally dismisses the girl, nodding toward you as if to say he had another customer to tend to. She shrugs and finally leaves, to which you take place in standing where she’d been seconds ago, sending a smile to Gojo.

“Long day?” You suggest with a slight tilt of your head, to which he nods.

“You have no idea,” Gojo sighs out to you, “You’re back sooner than I expected though.”

He didn’t know what it was about you, perhaps the way you gaze at him, but there was something that kept his eyes lingering on yours far longer than normal— something that genuinely lulled him in. Perhaps it was the natural flow of conversation and how even from earlier, you didn’t really feel like a mere customer but instead just a person, a woman at that-, a very pretty woman, might he add.

“You owe me a free drink, remember?” You remind him, earning a different reaction than expected.

Gojo pauses, “Ohh… About that…” He hums, moving to scratch the back of his neck, “Yeah see, that offer no longer stands…”

You blink, “I’m not sure I understand…”

He lets out a sigh, then moves to lean forward against the counter, bending down and crossing his arms as he rests on his elbows and comes much closer to your eye level, “Another cute girl came in ‘nd got it before you,” Gojo whispers.

You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not and your brows pinch together, “Seriously?”

“Mmhmm,” He hums tauntingly with this smug look on his face as if to say giving away your promised drink was to get back at you for something.

“Well,” You click your tongue, “I think you owe me a free drink now more than before, maybe two.”

Gojo smiles, feeling amused, “Yeah? I mean, my number’s free. Y’want that instead?”

Your voice gets caught in your throat at how ridiculously smooth that was, trying your hardest not to give in and return a smile. “I… What am I supposed to do with that?” You end up asking.

He snickers, “Perhaps text me? Or call? Y’know, the thing you do with phones-“

“Alright smart ass,” You scoff playfully, grinning as you move to pull out your phone, “What’s your number then?”

Gojo smiles triumphantly and extends his hand out, “Here, lemme put it in for ya’.”

You glance at him, eyes meeting and yet another moment passing before you hand him your phone, to which he takes a second to look down at the device in his hands. Then, he enters his number and a contact name for himself.

After which, your cell is quickly returned to you and you look to see what he’s put in. Studying the name closely, you tilt your head, “Satoru?”

“Mhm, tha’s me, sweetheart,” He purrs, moving to rest his cheek against his knuckles.

You look up from your phone, “You want me to call you Satoru?”

Gojo shrugs, “If you don’t mind, yeah.”

“We’re on a first-name basis already?” You tease, eyes narrowing at the man.

“It seems we are,” He utters. His voice was a bit lower with you now, much more casual and playful. “That alright with you, pretty girl?”

Unknowingly, your face flushes, “Yeah, that’s uh, that’s fine.”

Gojo lets out a hum, “Good.” Then, the two of you do that thing yet again, peering into one another's eyes, unmoving, nearly frozen and dazed for a moment longer than intended before Gojo snaps out of it by almost awkwardly clearing his throat, “So uh, you still want that free drink or…?”

You blink out of your own stupor and shake your head, “No, I’ll come back for it tomorrow.”

“Oh?” His brows shoot up in surprise, “You’re coming back tomorrow?”

“It seems I am, yes,” A smile graces your face and he can’t help but stare.

Gojo mirrors your expression, “Just for coffee?”

Your eyes wander off to the side cheekily, “Perhaps for a certain handsome cashier too…”

He thinks his heart is fluttering. Is this normal? To experience such a genuine infatuation with a woman’s words within less than twenty-four hours? It was unusual for Gojo, that’s for damn sure. Hence why his head is tipping to the side, “Really? Have my charms worked so soon?” He teases.

You return your gaze to him, “Just a little, yeah.”

Mesmerized by you, Gojo nods, “Good to know.”

“Mhm,” After a slight hum, you glance down at your phone and check the time, “Well uh, I actually have another class so I should probably go.”

“Yes… Yes, you should,” He voices out slowly, again entangled into that daze of his until you lift your head once more, “But uh, make sure you text me later, yeah?” Gojo reminds you.

To which you chuckle and start turning away toward the exit, “No promises.”

He’s left in a mere awe of you, not even knowing what to say, and left utterly speechless from such an intriguing yet simple conversation with you. As you wave bye, Gojo had to feel for his heart the very second you leave just to see if it was working correctly because he’s not sure what the hell that was just now.

Whatever it may have been, he knows it was much more genuine and raw than what he’s typically used to. And it came so naturally too, the banter, the gazes, the flirting… Gojo was longing for more already and he’d only just met you a few hours ago.

· · ─────── · ꨄ · ─────── · ·

All the while you’re just as cheerful at the interaction you just had, beyond ready to brag to your doubtful best friend of your most recent accomplishments.

Which is exactly why you’re facetiming said friend as soon as you leave the cafe. The call rings for less than a second before it’s answered and you’re met with a visibly displayed and… shirtless Choso.

Before you get the chance to even try and take in his naked torso, he’s already scowling at you, “The fuck are you facetiming me for?” He grumbles, taking the smile right off of your lips, “I’ve seen your face enough for one day. Why don’t you ever call like a normal person??”

You bat your eyelashes at the man, “Cho, we just got on the phone and you’re already souring the mood…”

He ignores your complaint, “What do you want?”

Steadily, your smile returns, “Guess who got a certain someone’s number,” You utter cheerfully, voice light in a little sing-song tone.

Choso gives his phone a blank stare, not saying a single word in response to that.

Which confused you, “Well? Are you gonna guess-“

“You could’ve texted me this shit,” He cuts off before you watch as your screen is soon met with the ceiling as he places his phone down.

You pout, “Well, yeah but then I wouldn’t have been able to see your reaction…”

He scoffs and pops his face into the camera for a second, eyes dull, smile nonexistent, eye bags heavy, and tattoo running across his nose the only thing giving some form of expression despite it being nothing more than a dark black line. “Does it look like I give two shits about you gettin’ some asshole’s number?”

You let out a long sigh, “Remind me why we’re friends again?”

And that’s when Choso seems to smirk, “Cause’ you won’t leave me alone.”

“I’m hanging up,” You groan.

His laughter, albeit somewhat of a rare sound, fills your ears, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry.”

You send him a look, “Are you?”

“Mhm, good job on gettin’ his number, princess,” Choso coos, making your eyes widen, “I’m proud of you.”

Your mouth opens to say something to that but your throat runs oddly dry. Instead, you gulp down his sudden praise and ignore how warm his words make you feel. “…Thank you.” You eventually say.

“Uhuh,” Choso nods before removing himself from the camera again, “Pretty sure he’s just trying to fuck though.” He says bluntly.

Instead of choking like he expected you to, you only scoff, “Fine by me.”

Your best friend is quiet for a moment, feeling almost silenced before he sighs, “Oh… But you told me no-“

“That was entirely different, Choso.” You cut off.

He shuts up again.

“You were drunk, and…” Your voice dies out.

To which he raises a brow at his phone, “And what?”

“And things were different back then,” You sigh, trying not to recall the entirety of your past with Choso at the present moment, “…You were an even bigger asshole, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Choso sighs, moving to dismiss the topic, “Anyway, let me know how things go with your new albino boyfriend.”

You scoff, smiling at the suggestion itself, “He’s not even my-“ 

The call disconnects. Oh how you just love your best friend and his antics. You wouldn’t trade your friendship with him for anything.

Or at least, that’s what you told yourself anyway. What exactly does a new man in your life bring if not drama? This right here was but the beginning of a very interesting journey toward such a fickle emotion we know as; love.

mlist | next chapter |

Tags 1/2; @siriusblackswankourtzeyy @eternaltpaoe @moonsgravee @sooshisweet @looking4hina

@blognicole @designerpvssy @andyfasia @shytragedybluefox @papigotwap

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@pineapplepan7 @janrcrosssing @hauntedchoso @linksylove @lemonninq

@littlemug00 @namjoonie17717 @notjustagirlinthisworld @moonneversleeps @k4rma1sntd3ad

#my love note #choso #choso x you #choso smut #choso x y/n #kamo choso #choso kamo #choso x reader #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen choso #reader x gojo #gojo angst #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu gojo #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo fluff #choso jjk #choso fluff #choso x female reader #smut #anime smut

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Forbidden Love » Bucky Barnes (AU)

Pairings: Farm Hand!Bucky Barnes x Farmer’s Daughter!Reader

Summary: Your parents forbid you and Bucky from being together.

Warnings: mix of Fluff and Angst, language, making out (18+), crying, unplanned pregnancy, pet names

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found it on Pinterest.

You’ve had a crush on the farm hand since the day you met him. You would’ve never thought of being in a secret relationship with him, but here you two are. The two of you are currently in the back of the barn making out. Bucky has you pinned against the wall with his hands on your waist. One of your hands was clutching his white tank top while your other hand was on the back of his head, your fingers running through his hair. Your mind began to drift elsewhere. You were thinking of what your parents would say if they found out about yours and Bucky’s secret relationship.

“What’s on your mind, pretty girl?” Bucky asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Nothing.” You say.

“You sure?” He asks, moving his lips to your neck.

“It’s just-” You paused for a moment before continuing your sentence. “I’m worried about what my parents will say when they find out about us.” You tell him.

Bucky pulled his lips away from your neck and looked in your eyes, his hands moving up and down your sides.

“Let’s hope they accept us being together cause I love you.” He says softly.

“I love you too.” You say, smiling up at him.

Bucky kissed you once more before going back to work. You walked out of the barn like you and Bucky weren’t just making out. You walked in the house, thinking you were in the clear, but you weren’t. Your parents stopped you in your tracks.

“What were you doing in the barn for so long?” Your mom asks.

“Oh umm-” You paused to think of an excuse. “I was talking to Bucky while he was on his break.” You tell her, lying through your teeth.

Your mom looked at you for a few seconds. She knows when you’re lying. You felt yourself getting nervous. You thought your parents were going to catch you lying.

“Just don’t bother him.” Your dad says.

You exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding and mouthed “Thank god.” to yourself.

Later that same day, you went back to the barn. Instead of going to the barn, you seen Bucky packing up his things to go home. You smiled and walked over to him. Bucky gave you a quick peck on your lips before your parents seen you two.

“So I was thinking…” Bucky put his hands on your waist. “We should tell your parents about our relationship.” He says.

“Me too.” Your fingers fiddled with the buttons on his dirty and sweaty button up shirt that he had unbuttoned. “I’m pretty sure my parents are getting suspicious. I had to lie to them earlier and I hate lying to them.” You say.

Bucky could hear the nervousness in your voice as he looked down at you.

“I’m nervous.” You say, looking up at him.

“Me too.” He wraps his arms around you, holding you close to him. “They have to know.” He says, rubbing his hand up and down your back to calm your nerves.

“I know.” You mumbled, loud enough for him to hear. “Let’s get this over with.” You say.

You and Bucky went inside the house and to the living room where your parents were, watching TV.

“Mom? Dad?” You say, getting their attention.

“Yes, sweetie?” Your mom says, hers and your dad’s attention was turned to you and Bucky.

“Me and Bucky have something to tell you.” You say.

You and Bucky sat on the couch opposite from them. You took a deep breath before saying anything.

“Me and Bucky are together.” You say, getting straight to the point.

“What do you mean you two are together?” Your mom asks.

“We’re dating.” You say.

“No.” Your dad says.

“But dad-” You got interrupted.

“You heard your dad.” Your mom says.

“If I may…” Bucky starts. “I love your daughter and she loves me. If you guys are going to fire me just because I’m in love with your daughter, then go ahead, but that’s not going to change my feelings for her.” He says.

“I think you should leave, James.” Your mom says to him.

Bucky nods and stood up, patting your shoulder as he walked past you and left. You just scoffed and stood up from the couch to go to your bedroom.

“We’re not done talking to you, young lady!” Your dad calls out to you.

You didn’t say anything. You closed your bedroom door and threw yourself on your bed, crying in your pillow. You just wished that your parents would understand how much you love Bucky.

You haven’t seen Bucky in a few days. You knew what that meant. Your parents fired him because of yours and his relationship. You’ve been feeling sick lately. At first you thought it was something you ate, but now you’re thinking it’s something. It didn’t take you long to realize what it was. You could possibly be pregnant… with Bucky’s baby. You immediately went to the drug store to buy a pregnancy test and went back home. Luckily, you were home alone when you took it. You had it face down on the sink counter. You paced back and forth, waiting for the timer to go off. You jumped at the sound of the timer going off on your phone. You shut it off and picked up the pregnancy test. You took a deep breath before turning it over. You gasped when you seen a plus sign on it. Meaning that you’re pregnant. You grabbed your phone and texted Bucky.

You: Are you busy?

Bucky: No. Why?

You: Can I come over? I have something important to tell you

Bucky: Of course you can. See you soon

You shut your phone off and got in your car to go to Bucky’s. Before you knew, you were at his house. You knocked on the door and patiently waited for him to open it. Bucky smiles when he sees you. He stepped aside, allowing you to come inside of his house. He gave you a much needed kiss.

“What do you need to tell me?” Bucky asks. “You said it’s important.” He says.

“Can we sit down first?” You asked.

Bucky led you to the living room. The two of you sat down on the couch. Your fingers nervously played with the bottom of your dress.

“I’m-” You paused nervously.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me.” Bucky says, holding your hand.

You took a deep breath. You decided to be straight forward with it.

“I’m pregnant.” You tell him.

Bucky stared at you with a look of shock and surprise on his face.

“Please say something.” You say.

“I- we- we’re going to be parents?” He asks.

“Yes.” You say.

Bucky kissed you with so much passion that it took your breath away.

“We’re having a baby!” He says with a smile.

“We’re having a baby!” You confirmed, smiling.

Your smile faded away. You thought of what your parents were going to say when they find out about you being pregnant with Bucky’s baby. They didn’t approve of you and Bucky being together. They sure as hell aren’t going to approve of you having a baby with him.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Bucky asks softly.

“My parents are going to like me being pregnant with your baby.” You say.

“If they don’t understand our love, then we’ll find it out on our own.” He says.

You and Bucky spent most of the afternoon trying to figure out how you two are going to tell your parents that you’re pregnant with Bucky’s baby.

You two walked in the kitchen of your parents’ house. They stopped what they were doing and turned their attention to you and Bucky.

“If he’s here, it better be important.” Your dad says.

“It is.” Bucky held your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours to calm your nerves. “I’m pregnant.” You tell them.

Your parents looked at the two of you with wide eyes.

“When did you find out?” Your mom asks.

“This afternoon.” You say.

“Who’s the father?” Your dad asks.

“That would be me.” Bucky speaks up.

There was an awkward silence for a moment.

“You’re out of here.” Your dad says.

“What?” You asked, making sure you heard him right.

“You heard me, missy.” Your dad stands up from the kitchen table. “If you’re having his baby, then you aren’t living here with me and your mom.” He says before leaving the kitchen.

You packed up your stuff with Bucky’s help and moved in with him. You exhausted by the end of the day. You took a shower to relax yourself. Then you got in bed next to Bucky, cuddling yourself against his side and your head on his chest. Bucky wrapped his arms around you. You let yourself get caught up in your thoughts.

“Do you want to get married?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Of course I do.” Bucky says, looking down at you.

“When?” You asked.

You watched as Bucky sat up and looked for something in the drawer of the nightstand next to his bed. He grabbed a small velvet box and turned himself towards you.

“I had a better way of doing this, but I might as well do it now.” Bucky got off the bed and got down on knee. “Will you marry me?” He asks, opening the small velvet box, revealing the most beautiful diamond ring you’ve ever seen.

“Yes!” You answered.

Bucky smiles and said the ring on your finger. He stood up and kissed you passionately.

“We’re getting married!” You say with a smile.

“We’re getting married!” Bucky confirms, smiling.

Bucky got back in bed, holding you close to him with one arm wrapped around you and his free hand on your stomach.

“I love you, baby.” Bucky says softly.

“I love you too, Bucky.” You say in almost a whisper.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

#sergeant james buchanan barnes #sergeant james barnes #sergeant barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james barnes #bucky barnes #winter soldier #farm hand!bucky barnes #farm hand!bucky #sebastian stan #sebastian stan characters #avengers #marvel #mcu #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #farmers daughter!reader

[hqbaby]

fourteen — kiss me again

mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader

⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 2k content. profanity, sexual content [elevator sex, fingering, oral f receiving]

Once the adrenaline of the last few minutes has dissipated, you and Sukuna find yourselves painfully awkward as you stand in the elevator, placing a respectful distance between the two of you.

“How—”

“Do—”

You both stop talking, looking at each other with nervous smiles. You laugh to try and ease the tension, but somehow it only makes it worse.

He nods at you, wringing his hands. “You go first.”

You look away. “Nothing,” you say. “I was just gonna ask how—”

The lights go out around you and the elevator comes to a sudden halt. You stumble at the unexpected stop, but Sukuna grabs you before you fall.

“Did it just—”

“—stop? Yeah,” you say, squinting your eyes as they adjust to the darkness. “The power’s been fluctuating recently and the elevator’s been doing this.”

You become acutely aware of the fact that you’re pressed flush against your best friend’s chest, so you right yourself and pull back, his reluctant arm loosening its grip on you.

“How long does it usually last?” he asks.

“Not more than ten minutes,” you tell him. The ache of your legs makes itself known and you sit on the floor. There’s no use standing while you wait. “Sorry about this.”

You can see him shake his head, your eyes adjusting to the dark. “It’s fine,” he says, carefully sitting down next to you. He’s still pointedly far away from you. Not too much to be strange, but enough to not touch you, even by accident. “I guess we wait.”

You hum. “I guess.”

The two of you sit on the floor of the tiny box, occasionally shifting to stretch your legs, to look at your hands. The tension is terribly apparent, but neither of you has the nerve to address it. Every time you look over at Sukuna, he looks away, and when he tries to look at you, you turn to your side.

This little song and dance goes on for a while until—

“Do you just wanna talk about the kiss?” he asks bluntly.

You let out a relieved groan. “Yes please,” you say, scooching closer to him. “So? What did you think?”

He snorts, peering at you as you come close enough to brush your shoulders against his. “Of the kiss?”

“Yeah,” you say. “Am I a good kisser? I’ve never really asked anyone that before because it’s pathetic, but I’ve been dying to know.”

“I dunno,” he says teasingly. “Pretty sure I carried the kiss.”

You punch his shoulder. “You did not.”

“Felt that way to me.”

“You’re such a loser,” you tell him. You grab his shoulder and shake him around a little. “Tell me, tell me, tell me.”

He plucks your hand off and interlaces it with his. A romantic gesture with anyone else, but a regular occurrence between the two of you. “You know, you’re a really annoying person.”

“Fuck you. You love me.”

His grip on your hand goes slack for a second as he looks away. You know that it’s dark right now and there’s really not much to see, but you spy the catch in his breath. You see the way he grows skittish as you tighten your hold on his hand. And there’s another thing, even more miniscule but incredibly obvious to you.

“Are you blushing?” you say loudly.

He pulls his hand away from yours and snarls at you. “What the fuck?”

“You are!” you say with a gasp. You point a finger at him, all childish and giddy. “You’re fucking—”

You’re cut off by his lips on yours. It’s harsher than last time. A stark contrast to the gentle nervousness of your last kiss. This time, it’s rough and wet and messy. And you hate to say it, but it’s incredibly hot.

You kiss him back, your hands going to his hair as he finds your hips, pulling you closer to him. You’re so caught up in the feverish haze of it all that it takes you a while to hear the voice screaming in the back of your head. What are you doing?

You press your hands to his chest and push him away. You blink at him in the dark, short breaths leaving your lips as you find him staring at you with an intensity you don’t think you’ve ever seen before.

“Sukuna,” you say quietly. “Are you sure about this?”

His eyes flick over to your lips then back to your own eyes, staring at him all wide and uncertain. “I—I don’t—sorry,” he says. “Do you not—Do you not want to?”

There’s something so sweet about the way he stumbles over his words, his hold on your hips going from confidently sexy to horrifyingly self aware. He leans back with parted lips. It’s like he’s waiting for your rejection, waiting for you to turn him down.

You lift a hand to cup his cheek and you chuckle. “I want to,” you whisper, leaning closer until your eyelashes flutter against his. “I just… this is a lot for me.”

“I know, I know,” he reassures you. His hand rubs your hips in small soothing circles as he looks at you sheepishly. “This is a lot for me too.”

You close your eyes and brush your lips against his. “Kiss me again?”

You hear him laugh. “Anything for you, tiger.”

The kiss is tender this time. Closer to your first kiss, but with the assurance that this is something you both want. You melt against him, hands roaming through his hair, across his shoulders, over the plane of his chest. He touches you softly, letting his fingers linger on the small of your back, up your spine, behind your neck.

Kissing Sukuna is like breathing, catching a second wind again and again with every touch of your lips to his.

You move against him, rocking your hips gently, little waves touching the shore. His tongue slips out and brushes against the bottom of your lip, a silent request that you indulge. Your hands are on his neck now, playing the short strand of hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him ever so close to you.

His touch trails down your back and lands on your thighs, fingers lifting the fabric of your skirt to touch your burning skin. His hands rub your skin, every now and then getting close to the space between your thighs, but never touching, never giving you what you really want. He’s so careful, so sensitive to doing the right thing and as much as you want to applaud him for it, you can feel the heat growing in your core. The frustration beginning to inch through your bones,

You detach your mouth from his and ever so quietly, you ask, “‘Kuna, can you—can you touch me?”

His hands graze over the fabric of your panties. “Here?” he asks softly, slipping a finger over the wet fabric.

A moan escapes your lips at the sudden contact and you hold on tight to him. “Yes,” you say. “Please.”

“You don’t need to beg, tiger,” he tells you. He pushes the fabric to the side and runs his finger along the stripe of your cunt. “All you gotta do is ask.”

He moves his mouth back to kiss you as he slips a finger inside of you, swallowing your whimpers. “Fuck, you’re already so wet,” he says, more to himself than to you. He presses his thumb on your clit, forcing a squeal out of you as he drags his finger in and out, in and out. “Do you like that, tiger?”

You press your face into the crook of his neck, panting as he works between your legs. “More, ‘Kuna.”

“Greedy girl,” he murmurs as he kisses your head. “I’ll give you more. I’ll give you everything.”

He pulls his hand off of you and you jerk back in confusion at the sudden loss of contact. “What—”

He guides you backwards and makes you sit on your knees. You place your hands on the floor behind you to prop you up, raising a brow in confusion. Just as you’re about to ask him what he’s doing, he ducks his head between your thighs, pushing your skirt up as he laps at your pussy.

“Oh shit,” you gasp, throwing your head back as his tongue sucks at your clit. Your hands fly to his hair and you pull, moaning when he slots a finger back inside you.

He pushes the digit deeper and curls it against a spot that sends you reeling. “Right there?” he asks, still intent on eating you out.

You keen with every move, with every brush of his finger against your walls, every kiss of his tongue on your throbbing clit. It’s too much, it’s not enough. The only thing on your mind is Sukuna, Sukuna, Sukuna.

“Are you close, tiger?” he asks. He slides a second finger into you and you moan, your hold on his hair only growing tighter. “You gonna come for me?”

You’re so caught up in your pleasure that the only thing you can do is nod and whimper. “‘Kuna, I’m so close,” you tell him. “Gonna come for you.”

“That’s my girl,” he says. He pulls his mouth off of you and replaces it with his thumb, rolling your clit beneath his finger as the other two continue to curl inside of you. He pressed his lips to the span of skin on your stomach where your shirt rides up. “Give me a kiss, tiger. Please.”

You open your eyes and groan at the sight of his cheek pressed to your stomach, looking at you with pleading eyes as his finger moves sinfully between your legs. You sit up, wincing as the movement sends his fingers diving deeper into you, and you grab his collar, pulling him closer to kiss you.

The kiss is more heated now, what with you getting closer and closer to your high, but it’s just as sweet. Just as gentle as earlier.

He moves his unoccupied hand to your neck, holding you close to him. “Come for me, tiger,” he sighs against your lips. “Want my girl to come for me.”

His words send you over the edge, a wanton moan tumbling out of your lips as you grab his collar, the only thing grounding you as your high descends on you, all intense and hot and positively electric.

Sukuna kisses you through your high, moving his hand from your neck to your back, fingers drawing up and down your spine.

When your orgasm fades, you pull your lips away from his and find him smiling at you. Not his usual teasing smirk, not his smug little grin, a smile of pure unadulterated joy.

“You good?” he asks, drawing his hands away from between your legs and letting them settle on your waist.

You giggle and nod. “I’m good.”

The two of you end up laughing, out of relief mostly but also a happiness that neither of you thought was possible. You settle on Sukuna’s lap, still facing him as he holds you to his chest, soaking in every bit of your presence, your touch, your everything.

“Thank fuck for broken elevators,” he muses aloud.

You chuckle. “Yeah,” you say, tilting your head to look at him. “Thanks for always showing up when I need you.”

He pecks your cheek, still smiling. “Anytime, tiger.”

You snuggle into him, wrapping your legs around his waist as you place your head on his shoulder. You’re about to close your eyes when you feel something poking at your ass—the something being his painfully hard dick.

“Is that…?” you ask, unmoving.

“Yup,” he says, voice a little strained.

“Do you want me to—”

“Nope.” Sukuna clears his throat. “Let’s, uh, wait to get to your apartment. Just ignore it.”

“It’s kinda hard to ignore.”

“Ignore it, tiger,” he says again, holding you tight so you don’t make any sudden moves. “It can—yeah, it can wait.”

You smile into his shoulder. “Whatever you say, ‘Kuna. Whatever you say.”

notes. this is for all the sukuna girlies 😩

#hqbaby.miu #hqbaby #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo #gojo x reader #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut

[leonw4nter]

Look Into My Eyes and You Won’t Ever Have To Ask

DI!Leon and F!Reader

“Y/N, we’re going to jump into the water. We’ll have to brace for impact, you especially.” Leon informs you urgently as he clutches the top of his dislocated shoulder but he eyes your broken rib, obviously putting more emphasis on your injury even though both your conditions are critical.

“Will we make it with your arm?” You ask before wincing. “Don’t force it back into the joint, you’ll make things worse for yourself.”

Leon scoffs, a soft gust of wind leaving his chapped and busted lips that are somehow still curled skyward. “Drop’s not that high but we still gotta be careful and don’t worry, I won’t pop this thing back in place. I’m not that stupid.”

You two look down from the platform and into the dark and rocky water below; the drop is high and along with other metal debris falling into the water, jumping would be dangerous. The response team’s arrival can’t be estimated due to several factors so you’re not sure how long you and Leon have to stay out in the water; treading will be difficult for him due to his arm and it’s not going to be easy helping Leon stay afloat due to a cracked rib and what you’re guessing, a fractured hip as well. This mission has not been kind to you and him, the B.O.Ws involved seemingly much stronger than those you two have dealt with in the past. The mission was supposed to be a lot simpler, a “slip in and slip out” kind of mission but due to unforeseen circumstances, you two are now on a high platform with broken bones while dressed in formal clothing. There was an auction afterparty on a private island that you two had to infiltrate while posing as a married couple, complete with rings and an expertly-falsified marriage certificate. The goal was to grab the lone sample of an engineered Plaga strain to bring back to a research lab and have scientists re-engineer the DNA to try and weaken it. Sounded simple enough until someone’s advisor recognized Leon and had you two’s cover blown and now landed you two in this shitty situation. Mentally and physically preparing yourselves as much as you can, you two slip your shoes off and chuck them to the water to prevent adding weight to your bodies because staying afloat will prove to be a challenge.

Just as you were about to say you were ready, a Tyrant busts the door and spots the two of you. Not sparing a moment for you two to even think of getting ready, the B.O.W runs towards the both of you. Leon gives you a look and swiftly takes your hand, the both of you leaping into the ocean with eyes shut and breaths held. The impact of sinking into the water knocks the wind out of your lungs, cracked ribs uncomfortably disturbed. Your eyes open, greeted by the dark black blur of the ocean and salt of the sea slowly irritating them. You turn to look for Leon, fighting the pain of your injury and trying to spot him amidst the black sea. You spot a suit trying to swim upwards to get air and that is enough confirmation for you so you try to swim upwards to get some air and try to look for a chopper. Unfortunately, something tugs against your leg and it appears that debris has hooked around your ankle and is dragging you downwards. You bend down and try to wriggle your foot free, feeling around in the dark since you couldn’t see. Fortunately for you, you managed to get it out and you furiously try to get back to the surface to tell Leon you’re fine.

You gasp sharply and tread water despite the roaring ache in your arms and legs, your head turning here and there to look for your partner.

“Y/N!”

You heard a strained call for your name, trying to locate him amidst the splashing surface due to the pitter patter of heavy rains on the surface of the water obstructing your view.

“Leon!” You call out and try to swim to him but he yells your name in a perturbed tone.

“Big wave!”

You look to your right and see a large wave headed for the both of you. You didn’t have time to fully sink back down and so the wave tossed you, causing you to accidentally swallow some water and choke on it while fighting for your life. Could it get any worse? It could, since the Tyrant above you decided to rip the metal door off of its hinges and throw it down into the water above you. Tossed and disoriented in the water while choking, you didn’t realize that you were heading in the direction of a metal part of the door jutting out. You hit your head hard and fell unconscious, all the thrashing and efforts slowly coming to a halt.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Leon woke up in a hospital, his right arm placed in a sling and his other arm attached to IV drips. There were several electrodes stuck to his chest, connected to a beeping machine. Dazed and confused, especially with the bright lights of the hospital room, he nimbly sat up despite the dizziness that overcame him and got up, not minding if he was connected to several machines. The sudden commotion alerts the nurses on duty, rushing to him just as he reaches to remove the devices attached to him.

“Sir, please calm down–”

“Where is she–”

“Sir, you can’t–”

“Where’s my wife?!”

He had never yelled like that, not even during training when cadets couldn’t get their form right. Not even when he was frustrated with how life turned out for him.

“Where’s my wife? I need to see her,” he repeats less loudly but still retaining the same stern tone he used earlier. He isn’t moving as much but he keeps his eyes peeled on the door of his hospital room.

“She’s on the same floor, 3 rooms across yours, sir. She’s still unconscious the last time I checked so please be careful and try not to make any sudden noise,” a nurse tells him. He calms down, his body no longer as tense as it was earlier. His shoulders sink, occasionally moving his free arm so the nurses can reattach the electrodes that have gone loose when he moved violently earlier.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “And thank you. For telling me.”

“It’s fine, sir. You did that out of love and concern for your wife. You must love her very much if you lost your cool and acted irrationally just to make sure she’s safe.”

“Ah. Yes, of course.”

The nurses helping him simply smiled and continued making sure all instruments on him were secure before helping him back to his hospital bed and making sure he was laying comfortably and didn’t place any pressure on any other injuries he sustained. Before the last nurse turned around to leave him be for the time being to go call a doctor and have the doctor check his vitals, she informed him that guests aren’t allowed at your room for the time being that you’re unconscious. He nods, understanding since you did take a particularly dangerous hit to the head and nearly drowned. He sits in silence, head hung low as he looks at himself and sees his injured arm on a black sling and his suit discarded in favor of a hospital gown. Purples and yellows, along with some small red spots, decorate his skin along with new scars among old ones. Now that he’s more aware of how he’s feeling, he realizes just how much his back hurts and how sore his joints feel. He’s no stranger to an achy and sore body, especially after missions, but as his age progressed the pain seems to have increased along with it. He can’t carry heavy things like he used to and he now takes longer breaks to regain his bearings after training. His gaze falls on his hand and notices the fact that his ring is missing first, not the redness and the bruising in his knuckles on top of recovering wounds from the previous mission. His eyes widened, looking around for his ring until his gaze fell on the ring inside of a tiny ziplock on his bedside table. He sighs, a small lock of brown hair falling down and covering his eye. His mind drifts back to the mission and his small outburst earlier, flitting between the two events. He feels guilty to have taken longer to bring you back up to the surface despite the arm proving to be difficult to swim with. If only he’d already swam up to you and moved you two somewhere less prone to having debris dropped on, you wouldn’t be suffering a concussion. If only he didn’t resist having you style his hair differently, that damn man wouldn’t have recognized him and caused an uproar. For once in a long time, none of his thoughts went into whether or not the mission was a success; he was entirely concerned with your well-being as a nasty guilt eroded his heart slowly and painfully. He loved you, he loved you dangerously for he would do anything brash if it meant securing your safety at the expense of his. He cherished you more than the stars that the night sky offered for your presence outshone even the most stellar cluster of stars. He cherished you more than the serenity that solitude offered for in your presence he could find a peace that solitude could never offer him. He knew the lone and solitary path, having gone down that road almost all his life but when he knew you, he could never go back to living without you by his side again. Hell, he loves you more than he does with whatever freedom he has left after being forced to work for the government for when he’s with you, he finds the true meaning of liberty. For the first time in the longest time, he prays. He stopped praying in the winter of the same year he turned 21, the prospect of believing in a God and holding on to a prayer as good as stupid and a waste of breath. Despite his doubt with the heavens, he is firm in his belief that you will recover soon. In a universe where he sees no god, he prays for you for in you he has found something sacred.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

He waits for several days and nights, occasionally getting up from his room to drag himself and the IV drip to the locked door of your hospital room. He tells nurses passing by that he’s your “husband” and that he just wants to see you, even for a little bit. The more he explains to nurses that he’s your “husband”, he feels like a liar. On a fake piece of paper, he is, but do you really want him to be your husband? He is far from ideal– he used to be a heavy drinker, he’s got emotional baggage, and a life with him would put her and possibly, your future family, in constant danger. He knows you’re very capable, more than capable in fact, to defend yourself but you can only do so much to defend yourself, you lying unconscious in a bed attached to tubes being proof of that. As he turns to walk back into his room, a million thoughts run through his head; he decides to tell you about how he feels and treat you the best he can, whether or not you feel the same way towards him. He’ll even request the D.S.O. to put both of you on a break since you both deserve time to focus on your recovery and pursuit of interests outside of work. He also considers writing a book to record his thoughts but considering the injury on his dominant arm, he realizes that writing will be a lot more difficult. On the steps back to his room, he also mentally lists down what he wants to gift you but he stops himself– realizing that he’s getting too ahead of himself.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“Oh, he did react violently. Very violently.” your nurse tells you as the doctor with her takes your vitals.

You asked her how he’s doing as soon as you got up, looking around worriedly for your ring and your other belongings. The lights disoriented you for a moment, too bright for your pupils that are still adjusting after being asleep for nearly an entire month. You also learned that he got discharged 2 weeks ago but still came by often to visit you. He’s also been said to occasionally brush your hair away from your face and change the water from the vase and flowers he brought you a day after he got discharged.

“He was yelling, moving so much and screamed ‘where’s my wife?!’. Honestly, it was so cute!” she said with a wide smile.

“The entire floor heard him since he opened the door loudly and screamed even louder but he cared less, even if his ass is poking out of his hospital gown.”

You blushed at the mental image of Leon looking for you like a madman in a hospital gown where he’s naked at the back.

“He only calmed down after we told him where you were and he stayed in his room, head hung low the entire day and we all honestly felt bad for him.”

You nodded to her words, your gaze falling to the ring in the ziploc baggie on your bedside table. You asked for a phone and called him, telling him that you woke up and he can come visit you.

“He seemed really happy, could tell that wideass grin of his even through the phone,” you told the nurse and doctor while they smiled and giggled for you.

“Go give him the best kiss you’ve ever given him and profess your love again like it’s the first time!”

Their words made you blush again, only this time it’s because they don’t know you two aren’t exactly married. You two have only kissed once and that was during the fake wedding that the company set up for you two, present with a witness with no affiliation to any of the guests or you two. You’re not even sure if him talking to you was purely out of kindness or if he did that in order to keep up the image that things have not gone awkward. You’re even surprised Leon doesn’t seem to have been picking up the hints you’ve been dropping at him; for an agent who’s trained to be highly perceptive of people’s actions and body language, he sure doesn’t know how to pick up signs that you’re flirting with him. Unless he doesn’t want you. You groan and carefully rest your head on the pillow behind you but you stop, wincing because you just remembered you’ve got a busted rib or two.

A few minutes later, the sliding door to your room opens and in comes Leon with a bouquet of sunflowers on his free hand because the other is on a black sling. His black leather jacket is draped over his shoulders and he can hardly contain his joy at seeing you awake.

Placing the bouquet on your lap, he cages you in for a hug with consideration for your injuries. You swear you hear a soft sniffle from him and feel his body slightly jerk and as he pulls back, he’s got semi-glossy eyes.

“Y/N. Hey, how are you feeling?” He softly asks as he takes your hand in his.

“Feeling amazing. You?”

“Better than ever now that you’re up.”

“That’s good.”

A comfortable silence settles between the both of you, Leon taking one more good look at you. He thought he had a ton of things on his chest but that couldn’t compare to the amount you had on yours– literally and metaphorically. He breaks the silence first by clearing his throat before speaking.

“I– Uh… I got you some flowers,” he explains as he picks up the bouquet and shows some of the flowers to you.

He definitely picked it up in a rush since you spot a small card in the middle of all the sunflowers that says ‘well wishes on your new business’ in swirly gold lettering. You smile for the first time in a long time, finding the gesture to be sweet coming from Leon. He probably got it seeing as how sunflowers seemed to be a bright and happy kind of flower and he wanted you to feel even a little bit positive even in this condition and it’s definitely working but you still decided to ask him why he chose sunflowers amidst all the different pre-packaged flowers.

“Why sunflowers?” you ask as you gently inhale the scent of the flowers despite sunflowers being odorless.

“It only made sense for me to get these for you since sunflowers always face the sun,” he explains as he drags a chair to sit down on as he talks. “I go to you when I need help with something and you’re always there for me so I guess… in a way… you’re kind of like my sun.”

His words trigger your heart to ram itself against your ribcage, your heartbeat thundering so loudly in your ear as you imagine color furiously rushing to fill in the paleness of your face. Leon looks away, a hand making its way to the back of his neck and rubbing it. His gaze returns to you but his eyes shoot up to his brows, picking up your hand with a finger clipped to the pulse oximeter, looking at you worriedly.

“Your pulse is picking up. You alright? Need water? A nurse?” he rapidly asks. “Tell me what I can do for you.”

The pulse oximeter continues to display your heightened heart rate and you want to tell Leon that you feel fine– amazing even– but that would contradict with the reading of the device. You can’t tell him that whatever he just said made your heart race because you love like him so much, it’s almost embarrassing.

“Water would be nice,” you say. He gets up and pours you a glass of water, handing it to you carefully while keeping his hand near the glass in case you don’t have the strength to hold it yet. For the entire day, he tells you all about what he’s been up to while you were unconscious– the break that the D.S.O. gave to the both of you, the mission, his arm, his thoughts while you were gone, and a lot more things.

“Leon Kennedy prayed for me?” you ask in shock, mouth agape while still curled into a perplexed smile. “Leon ‘religion is beyond me’ Kennedy clasped his hands together, shut his eyes, and devoted a few moments of his day to pray for me.”

You laugh heartily, clapping along. You find the image of Leon praying to be a little funny, impossible even; you know about Leon’s past on religion and how he was a practicing Catholic up until the winter of the same year he turned 21 but it seemed so foreign for him to be praying for you. Little did you know, he found himself praying because his love for you taught him devotion in feelings more powerful than he.

“Shut up,” he mumbles while his cheeks burn pink. “Don’t laugh at me like that, at least it worked.”

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

You told Leon about what the nurses told you about him nearly having a meltdown as soon as he woke up. You’ve never seen him bury his face into his hands and groan, leaning into your side and burying his face there as he pulled his leather jacket above his head and begged you to stop teasing him about it. It’s been a week since you’ve woken up and Leon’s visited you every single day since then, occasionally bringing personal items you told him to bring for you or lunch boxes he cooked and made for you. Bento boxes, he called them. He showed you the entire playlist of YouTube videos he made full of bento box cooking videos, some of the videos having the red bar underneath them.

“Rebecca told me all about them, said that they were balanced with everything you’ll need to recover,” he explained. “They’re pretty neat, actually. It’s fun making them look all cutesy for you. I’m pretty sure we’re giving the nurses a new reason to giggle every day.”

You smile as you take a bite of the spam, humming in satisfaction as the flavors erupt. You thank him for the effort he’s been putting into cooking for you, to which he smiles and nods to.

“Leon,” you say as you put the lid back on the bento box. “Um– I’ve… There’s…. I have to tell you something.”

“Hm?” He says, putting his pocketbook into the inside pocket of his jacket.

“We’re on a break right?”

“Yeah. Why?”

He shifts in the chair and you begin to fiddle with something small in between your fingers.

“Are we still required to keep this up?”

He stays silent for a moment until you gesture to the rings on both of your hands. “Not sure but not until we confirm that the mission is a success in a briefing, I guess we have to.”

“You don’t have to cook for me, you know. The hospital makes sure to feed me everyday.”

“I don’t have to but I want to.”

“I’m sure no one’s suspicious of us being a sham couple. You’re always nice to me and it seems genuine so you’re free to go.”

“Y/N,” Leon begins. “I’m not doing this for the mission. I’m pretty sure praying for you isn’t required by the D.S.O. Before you begin to tell me that I’m being nice for the record, Y/N, I’ve never prayed for anyone to wake up from a coma. You’re the first.”

“Does that mean you love me, Leon?” you ask. You lock stares with him, determined to not let Leon leave your room for the night without getting a direct answer from him.

“Y/N. If you stared any longer and fiercer into my eyes a long time ago, I would’ve crumbled then and there and told you that I have always loved you. All this started from a deception but it led me to the most honest feeling I’ve ever felt so yes, I do love you.”

Silence befalls the both of you in the room, save for the soft beeping of the machines in the same room as you two are in. Amidst the silence, you two come to a wordless understanding that you two are in love and have been in love for a long time. A delicate smile points the tips of your lips upwards before a soft laugh leaves you, genuinely ecstatic that your feelings have been returned and he fiercely feels the same as you do. He follows suit, smiling and chuckling as he takes your hand into his and kisses the back of your knuckles, nuzzling into your open palm as you gently rub your thumb back and forth on his stubbly cheek.

“In a few years time, we’re going to replace these ones with actual rings,” you say to Leon to which he nods, silently basking in your beauty and in the joy that there’s a future ahead for him with you. A nurse knocks at the door, informing Leon that visitation hours end in a minute and he has to go soon.

“Well, looks like I gotta go,” he quietly says though you know he doesn’t want to go just yet and frankly, you don’t want him to go just yet.

“You’ve only got a minute left before you do leave, just wait it out,” you urge him.

Sighing but not out of displeasure, he sits back down and leans near you to bask in your presence before he heads back into his lonely apartment. An entire minute passes by and Leon begins to get up but not before you sit up, reach for the sleeve of another one of his many jackets, pull him down to your level, and place a hungry yet velvety kiss on his lips. His eyes are widened before he shuts them, his free hand traveling to the base of your head and gently drawing your face nearer to deepen his kiss. A nurse walks in again, telling Leon to leave since his visiting hours are over but neither of you are too stubborn to pull away and break the kiss just yet. Your hands finds a portion of Leon’s jacket draped loosely over his shoulders and lifts it up, shielding both your faces as you feel a smile widen on Leon’s lips fitted against yours. You two are definitely giving the nurses a new reason to gush and giggle every time they are going to see either of you. As for you alone, you’ll have some explaining to do to the doctor checking your vitals for the irregularities in your heart rate.

NOTE - I didn't proofread this so if you spotted errors then I'm rlly sorry because I'm lazy (💀). This fic is a lot longer than my other drops lately so I hope we're all okay w that!!! I've got like 2 requests in my Inbox so to my anons who are waiting, it might take a while but I'm def going to work on them and post something for you <3 Happy Pride Month to my queer readers and queer mutuals, you deserve to be seen, heard, celebrated, and appreciated!!! Support your queer friend or someone you know who is queer by doing something for them or getting them a food item that they like, make them feel extra special this month yk :3 Anyways, that's all and thank you for reading my fics!!!!!!! I <3333333 UUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The wavy divider was made by @roseraris , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

#leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x y/n #fluff #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy fluff #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #biohazard #death island leon #resident evil death island #resident evil x reader #rebhfun #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil leon #biohazard death island #f!reader #leon scott kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy x reader

[januaryembrs]

tea!! anything bugsy and spencer

the one with the surfboard | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader

description: there's only one person who could ever get Spencer Reid in the ocean and that's Bugsy

length: 1.6k

warnings: mention of sex, swearing, Penelope and Reid being thirsty for Morgan and bugsy. Pen calls Derek chocolate thunder but this is nothing new! set at beginning of season six.

part of the trouble almost all my life universe

Spencer settled his feet into the warm sand, trying his hardest to make sure the grain didn’t stick to the thick layer of suncream he’d applied not even five minute earlier, his sunglasses hanging on his nose as he watched Morgan and Bugsy hit a ball to one another over an invisible volleyball net. 

“You not going to take a swim, pretty boy?” Emily asked, basking on her back in a red bikini, soaking up the sun they rarely got so clearly stuck in their office. His face scrunched up, shaking his head until he remembered Emily had her eyes closed, and it only took one look at where JJ was laying incredibly still to know she’d already dozed off on the sun lounger. 

“One litre of ocean water has about one billion microbes of bacteria and around ten billion viruses, so,” He shuddered, his lithe fingers gripping the arms of the chair as he tried not to think about every single one of them entering his mouth if he were to even get close enough it could spray on his face, “No thankyou,” 

“Not even if Bugsy asked you?” Penelope pointed out, a sex on the beach she’d ordered with a giggle and a ‘if Morgan gets lucky.’

His lips twitched, feeling his neck grow hot in a way he told himself was just the sun, and he glanced at the technical analyst with something fleeting, “She did ask me, I told her the exact same thing I’m telling you guys,”

“And?” Emily asked, sensing that hadn’t been the end of the conversation because her sister knew exactly how to get her way when it came to men, Spencer specifically. 

Rubbing under his nose with his knuckle, Spencer downcast his eyes to the beer Bug had handed him, sand sticking to the green, frosted glass as the liquid bubbled freshly inside the bottle, “She said I owed her an hour of fun,”

Penelope’s face lit up at the innuendo of it, nudging him lightly with her shoulder, “Hell yeah, you’re such a stud, Reid. An hour?” 

Emily winced in grotesque, “That’s my sister you’re talking about there, Pen. A sister is very much present here,” 

The blonde shrugged, sipping through her pineapple decorated straw, “Not my fault you have a hot sister, Prentiss,” 

“Can we stop talking about this? Please?” Spencer floundered, his fingers wrapping over the edge of the seat, his jaw tensing as the words hot, hot, hot, smeared all over his brain like a stamp. And everything he’d tried to deny for months bit at his neck so much so he was quickly fiddling with his shirt collar. 

“Agreed,” Emily seconded, taking a long drink of her mojito, and Penelope saw it as a chance to lean in close to him, a smirk on her clementine scented lips.

“Don’t you think watching the two of them play together is like something out of Baywatch,” She murmured, her eyes locking on the two agents that seemed to be on their longest streak yet judging by all the laughing and shouting going on in between hits. 

Spencer had never tuned into Baywatch, nor did he have any intention of doing so. But he did have to admit that watching Bugsy jump around in the ocean, her hair clasped back in a claw clip away from her face, her skin practically glowing from the vitamin D both on her face and on her obscenely beautiful body that was free to see in those bikini shorts and mini top, was more captivating than any tv show he could imagine.

He swallowed, shaking his head, “I think you spend too much time with Derek,”

Penelope held her chest in mock offence, her glass empty in her hand as she looked at him with teasing eyes, “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that, Reid. There’s no such thing as too much chocolate thunder time.” 

Spencer smirked, chuckling to himself and he barely even noticed the two people that were the hot topic of conversation had left the sea until a plastic, bouncy ball went hurtling at Emily’s forehead and rebounded clear off her hairline. 

“FUCK,” The woman cursed, opening her eyes where a few rogue droplets of sea water dribbled down her cheek, her peace and serenity completely wiped away where her little sister stood with a hidden smirk, Derek biting his knuckle to hide his laugh, “You fucker, what was that for?”

“Just making sure you hadn’t cooked alive, you looked very still,” Bugsy held her hands up in innocence, even though Emily stood with a vengeance, rolling her eyes at the cheeky grin she got back. 

Emily muttered something about her being a childish shrew, before she huffed, shoving past her sister and heading towards the beachfront bar, Derek and Penelope in tow. Which left the two of them, and a sleeping JJ, on their tiny corner of the beach. 

“You sure you don’t want to come in?” Bugsy asked, trails of salt water sliding off her hair and down her stomach, the sight of them making Spencer’s mouth dryer than the sand beneath them, “I saw a jellyfish, or at least I think it was, it may have been a condom,” Spencer gagged inside his mouth with an incredulous look on his face, and she chuckled, dropping the ball to his feet, “Relax, I’m kidding. I’m going back in if you want to join, promise I won’t splash you or nothing,” 

“I’m good, you go have fun with your new pal; the condom,” He said with a grossed out pull of his lips, though he smiled when she did and she grabbed the surfboard stuck in the ground beside him, trotting off back towards the ocean, “Remember to reapply soon!” He called, and she flicked a look over her shoulder.

“You're as bad as Emily,” She yelled back, taking off towards the waves with a chuckle, the sea breeze blowing tiny shrapnels of sand against her calves.

Spencer shamefully felt his eyes drop to her butt, and as fast as he did, he looked away, because that was supposed to be his best friend. She’d certainly never made it seem like they were going to be anything else. Perverts watched pretty girls running, perverts watched how their skin lit up with the rays of lights bouncing off the water and their hips swung with every step, and he wasn’t a pervert. 

He was just… human. And who could ever resist her. 

He watched the sea spraying out beneath her feet as she ran right in, and she waded out deep enough that he lost sight of her stomach, the board skirting the surface of the water for a moment. 

She was possibly the coolest person he’d ever met, and she was his best friend. 

He watched her hop up onto her stomach, keeping an eye on the horizon for a big enough wave rolling in. Deciding on an incoming ripple gradually gaining traction, she paddled out towards it, her arms strong and focused from what he could see where he was sat, nursing his bottle of beer. 

“Baby Prentiss got moves,” Morgan whistled as they returned back with drinks cold enough Spencer saw the condensation gathering on the glass already, though that was the only time he actually tore his eyes away from her as she got further away from the safety of land, the black band attaching her ankle to the board the only thing he could really see of her. 

“She talked some bar boy into teaching her the Summer she spent in Mexico with my mom,” Emily shook her head as they watched her jump up into a steady stand, the rip gathering under her surfboard and soon she was floating over the water, the concentration evident on her face as she held her arms out to balance. 

She went a few more times, the group settling into the quiet they had whenever she was busy, because she was not exactly known for her calm nature, yet Spencer’s eyes were the only ones glued to her figure the entire time, ever the worrier when it came to her daredevil side. 

And it was like he was watching it in slow motion; on her fifth turn riding a particularly quick rip her balance got thrown off. Nothing serious, it was only a few ten yards out offshore, and she was a strong swimmer, he’d seen it. She quickly lowered herself back into a straddled sit, only for the wave to gain traction before it fizzled out, crashing into the side of her board right as she was about to take a breath, and he watched her flip sidewards into the water, the tide bringing her close enough he knew she’d be able to stand.

But she didn’t come up for a few moments, and it was enough that Spencer was out of his seat, taking off jogging towards the ocean, every statistic that had been whizzing through that big brain of his about how filthy the water was suddenly evaporating as he watched her throw a hand up to the surface, her board skirting above her being the only pointer for him where to go. 

By the time he made it over to her, he was knee deep before he thought of the consequences, the cold hitting him like a freight train, and she was already dragging herself towards land on her hands and knees, her hair stuck to her face, her claw clip ripped out by the current.

“Are you okay?” He asked, but she didn’t respond, only to cough up sea water with a screwed up expression that told him just how horrible it tasted. 

“I need a beer,” She wheezed, as he lifted his hands under her arms, tugging her to her feet, his entire torso getting drenched as she clung onto him for safety, still spluttering ocean out of her lungs. 

And he shook his head with a smile, brushing her hair back enough for her to see, her eyes sore and red with angry blood vessels where he imagined it stung to get the salty water in them, and all but dragged her back up the rest of the beach where Derek and Emily were laughing at her fail so hard they’d woken JJ up. 

“Yasmine Bleeth never ate seawater, Bug, what happened?” Morgan jeered, earning him a middle finger to the face as Penelope offered her a nice big gulp of a margarita to clear her taste buds. 

And for the first time all day, Spencer wasn’t even thinking about how much bacteria was all over his skin if it meant she was alright.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader

[undercoverpena]

15. raspberry truffle

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter fifteen of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 3.1k chapter warnings: smut. 18+. jo's mirror love resurfaces and armchairs are used as more than things sat behind desks. lots of mouth to mouth resus. smut. also there's smut. frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. an: I've had this image in my head for so long...

prev chapter | series masterlist

“Do you trust me?”

It's a simple question. One he’s asked you time and time before, but never with the current look in his eye he’s currently wearing.

Dressed in a tight grey tee and a pair of black sweats. Hatless, teased curls frame his face as you rest against your counter. The one you’ve seen for the first time in some days.

It strikes you that the only reason you're standing in your home, to begin with, is because of the email informing you that some of your new furniture had been dispatched.

His mouth had been sealed to your neck, fingers grasping at your waist as you read it out, distracted, attention not entirely focused on him until his hand snaked between your legs, in his sheets, in his bed—the one you’d now found to be far more comfortable than your own—as he whispered, I can build it for you.

And, he did. Had done.

Putting his tool on the side as he rejoins you. A nominal irk bubbling through you that the toolbox it lives in is one foot away, it vanishing when he steps closer, presses you further against it. Cool, firmness meets your spine as his body corners you.

He looms in a way that makes your heart double as you wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him. Deeply.

“Should I trust you, handsome?”

Snorting, his laugh fluttering over your lips. “I think you should.”

Lips pursing, narrowing your eyes teasingly, you feel his thumb sliding the fabric of your top up and down your hip bone.

“You are biased though.” His head lolls from side to side as he hums, fingers pinching at the bottom of your top. “Do you think I should because you built my chair?”

As soon as he slides his arm around your waist, your back arches. Chest desperate to be flush. Heart aching to be near to his.

“No. Because you love me.”

Sighing, nodding—all playful. A smirk just there, all beneath the surface. “Oh. That thing.”

Tracing his nose against yours, a smile trying to beam, but he mirrors how you hold back. “That thing.”

When he’s close like this, it’s almost criminal when you’re not kissing him. When you’ve not slanted your mouth against his soft lips, felt the roughness of the hair on his face against your palm, buried your fingers into his curls and pulled a little to earn that groan he does. The one, if it were a thing that could be possible, you’d love etched into your brain.

The thought of which makes you want to peel your clothes off.

Already so hungry for a thing you’ve been feasting at a buffet for the last number of days. Yet, still wanting, still needing.

“You really play a long game,” you say, more sweet. And his nose scrunches, frowning as you smirk. “Waiting this long, getting me to fall in love with you, and then killing me in my own office.”

“Oh yeah, I’m a mastermind.”

Laughing, you twirl a curl around your finger, finding the hair a little longer. “Okay,” you reply, sealing it to his lips, “I trust you—you get my blood on my new chair you’ve just built, I’m going to haunt you.”

“It’s not a punishment that you’d want to spend the rest of your days haunting me, Rainy.”

His hips dip, becoming aware of the effect you have on him too as his growing bulge rubs against your parted thighs. A moan escapes, body jolting at the welcome friction. The sound leaves so softly, barely loud enough to disrupt his mouth from being on yours.

But it does.

“Do you trust me?”

The four words repeated, answered hurriedly. No game, no tease.

His mouth comes close to your ear, a chaste kiss left along your hairline as his hand clutches your waist for stability, and you forget how to breathe.

“Close your eyes, baby.”

As you do, his fingers, clean and soft, all but sawdust stained, slide over your eyes—his chest to your back as he leads you down a familiar path that suddenly feels foreign. Trusting.

Your nose tunes in. Takes in the scent that is equivocally just him, one you’re thankful has begun seeping into your home as much as he has your heart. Hearing him whisper instructions, watch this, be careful, until you're body is shifted on its axis.

His fingers slide from your vision, allowing you to blink, see him, smiling at the sight of him.

“Fuck you’re handsome.”

Backing you up against the newly painted office wall, your arm hooks around his neck again, mouth ghosting over his as a hand hovers over your hip.

“Still trust me?”

Nodding, you feel his breath on your parted lips, before he slides his mouth over yours. Searing. Burning—all determined as his tongue slides past your teeth and his fingers slide up your neck, tracing your jaw. It makes you delirious. Dizzy. Thoughts nothing but lost to you until you glance past him and see it.

The built chair, in the nearly decorated office. The desk it should be behind is still a week out, but the chair, mirror and plants are all set up—the shelves adorned with bits you have for now.

“Hey?” he says, eyes snapping back to him.

Spotting the bubbling molten in his eyes, remembering how your body is aflame—

Then the next question comes. “Can I taste you, baby?”

Nodding, you whisper your answer into the air as he leads you, guides you all over again, moving you closer and more towards your new chair. Mouth latching itself to yours, palms on either side of your cheeks, before his hand steals the cushion, and throws it down.

“You look so beautiful, baby,” he whispers, trailing the words down your neck, along your collarbone.

It makes a gasp flutter from your lips, feeling your insides knot, likely dampening the fabric between your thighs, making nothing short of a mess—

“Gonna take these off, okay?”

Your tongue thickens in your head, swallowing a whimper at the feel of his thumbs hooking inside your shorts and slipping them down your thighs. The fabric skims, sliding, before they fall with a soft thud and he's guiding you to sit down in the armchair.

Taking a breath, you stare, captivated. Frankie sinking, kneeling before you on the cushion. “Part your legs for me.”

“Shit, Frankie.”

“Baby.”

Swallowing, you do. Then, it’s delicate, soft.

The gentlest of kisses up the inside of your thighs. Aware of the heat of his fingers pushing your knees further into the arms of the armchair, tuned into the way he exhales through his nose, cool air teasing over your already slick, cloth-covered pussy—the chair groaning when you buck your hips.

“Rainy.”

He grunts it. Low—warningly. It comes from a place in the back of his throat, grating and gravelly as he stares up at you. Nothing but brown dipped in more brown holding your gaze. Usually, it would make you smirk, but instead, you mumble an apology.

One that trails off; turns into a whine when he drags his tongue over the already-drenched fabric.

You’re not sure how it’s possible but you moan like you’ve been teased for hours. Sure that with a few more, you could be close—

“I want you to look in that mirror, and see how beautiful you look as I do this.”

“Frankie, I…”

His hand slides up, right between your still-covered breasts, before cupping your cheek, thumb under your jaw, eyes searching, sweeping and locating. “Look for me.”

Flicking your eyes to it, the ornate thing you’d not been sure you wanted until he’d slid his arms around your waist. Buried his face into your neck. Told you it was nice.

You’d agreed then, you most definitely did. Nodding, letting a little whispered okay escape as he nods. Staring, trying not to pick apart what you see in the reflection. The way your eyes look tired, skin not as bright as it normally would be. That is until he nips at your skin. Pulls your gaze from your own to the back of his head.

“Beautiful—”

“Frankie,” you sigh.

Hand coming over your face, heat blooming in your cheeks as you feel him kiss your inner knee. Thumb stroking at your skin, circling, before he taps. A silent request, a reminder: look at yourself.

You do.

“You are so beautiful, Rainy.” He dips his head—becoming aware of the finger sliding in the gusset of your plainest underwear, dragging the fabric, pulling it from your soaked core all the way to the side.

“I thought it when I first saw you.”

Air blowing across your core, before he places the most delicate, softest kiss against your swollen clit.

“Think it now, seeing you sat in your new chair, in your new office.”

You feel your chest heave, see it. Staring at the way the muscles strain in your neck from not moving, before he drags a long, slow stripe up from your aching hole to your nerves.

And he groans, low and dull. It vibrates against you before his tongue swipes again, hands pushing your inner thighs apart before he dives again. Sliding his tongue between your folds, licking, drawing.

He’s slow in his movements, measured. Delves as much of himself into you before wet, roaring heat swirls around and encases your clit as his growl sends flames up your spine.

That’s when he slides his fingers in. Curls them. Moves them in slow thrusts.

The whine of his name you let escape is sinful, practically unrecognisable. Your hips moving, unable to tear yourself away from staring at the way your mouth hangs open, panting, moaning, as you rock your hips, fuck yourself on his fingers, on his tongue, as you hope his other hand on your hip will leave a mark. Half moons or bruises, or even fucking both—

“Frankie, please.”

The angle of the mirror not only allows you to see the sight of him taking you apart, but how the act seemingly undoes him. How his shirt is stretched across his shoulder blades, how his muscles ripple under the thin fabric as you hold on to every thread as the pads of his fingers curl more into you. All come hither, beckoning the incoming wave you know is going to wash over the two of you.

And it turns you on.

“You like it, querida? Like watching yourself.”

“Like watching you.”

And you swear you feel him smirk as your hips lift, desperate for more, eyes speckled with spots as your nails grip the arm of the chair, the other lost and tangled in his curls.

It’s so good, so fucking good.

He’d make you confess, make you tell him everything—no matter the secret, you’re sure he could pull it from you like this. Have you spilling, as though he’s cracking you open, and even helping him translate the parts of you he’s yet to understand or know.

“So perfect squeezing around me, baby. Love how you taste—always taste so fucking good.”

Your back is off the chair, grinding into him, so close you can’t even think, can barely speak.

“Want you to come on my tongue, Rainy. Need you too.”

“Fuck.”

“That’s it. Let yourself feel good, baby. Use me, use—”

And you do.

Fuck. You do.

Your cry echoes and bangs around the walls before slamming into your ears. Legs shaking. Mind sludge as you come down from your high to his soothing touch, to his whispers, to his words that make you feel like you’re in heaven. Not just here, with his shoulders supporting your knees, but all the time.

It’s why you bring his mouth to yours. Messily, all disorientated from the high of him as you taste yourself on his mouth, on his tongue—the tang of what he’d done to you evidenced.

It makes you want, need.

You’re not sure how the two of you made it to the bedroom so cleanly.

His clothes are scattered, left in the hallway; a path that leads from one moment to the other. Your knees were likely bruised from how you dropped to them in the doorway, straddling the hallway and bedroom as you palmed him through his underwear, eyes wide, looking up.

“I love your cock, Frankie.” Hooking a finger in the band, dragging the fabric to his ankles, to the ground. “Like how heavy it feels on my tongue cock.”

Hand slowly wrapping around him, pumping once, twice.

“Fuc...”

His curse isn't able to form when your mouth wraps around him, taking him in your mouth. As much of him as you could. Hearing him groan, grunt—seeing his nostrils flare before his forehead presses into the crease of his elbow as he leans it against the door. His breath stammers, palm cupping the back of your head casually as he tenses, muscles straining, body stiff.

All you can think is you wish this image could be painted, commemorated; hung somewhere for your eyes to see everywhere, every day.

Because he's backlit by the afternoon, shadows cascade from the half-drawn curtains of your room, bicep flexing as you take him down your throat, loosening it as much as you can until the tip of your nose finds itself in his curls.

“So big, Frankie.”

He groans, at the same time as you taste salt, it pooling at the back of your throat. Your eyes flick up to see his jaw slackening, nostrils flaring when your tongue swirls around the tip, hollowing your cheeks, feeling him twitch in your mouth—

“Bed.”

It’s hissed, strangled, as he pulls himself from between your lips and spit trails over your lower lip and chin.

“Now?” you tease.

“Now.”

His hands, all capable and strong, haul you to your feet. Finding a home on your hips, directing and shifting you until you’re on familiar sheets, turned over, stomach flush to your mattress as he trails his mouth down your spine.

“Wanna fuck you.”

“Then fuck me.”

It’s different, the way your bodies come together. The way he swallows your hiss when he bottoms out, stretching around him, fingers clinging and clutching at him.

“Y’too good to me, Frankie.”

“Impossible,” he whispers.

Mouth sliding up over your neck, nose catching on your skin, his hand dips between your bodies—where you’re joined, where you’re full and stretched around him. It’s bliss. Perfection. One you endure so regularly but don’t become used to, each time as taken back by how good it feels to be seated fully inside you as his fingers tease your swollen nerves.

It’s with a smooth thrust do your fingers brush over his face, finding his cheek, mouth and nose, guiding with your eyes closed for his mouth to seal itself over yours. Hips moving, thrusting, meeting him each time as you grow slicker, making a mess of him and the sheets beneath you.

Mouth slotted over his, moaning passed his teeth, hands clutching his cheek, the back of his neck, fingers teasing his curls. “Fuck, Frankie. Fu—“

He grins, you feel it. His hand slides from your slick-covered clit to your hip, along your waist, travelling and travelling until his palm cups your breast—until his finger and thumb are pinching your hardened peak. All the time kissing you, open mouths, breathing one another as his pace quickens. As you feel the early signs of your thighs tremoring, seeking something to grip, to hold on tight—

“Love how you take me.”

You whine. Gasping.

And he’s smooth with it. The way he slides your hand from his cheek and down towards the bed. Hingeing you, making you go down onto all fours as he kisses down your neck, trails his tongue, leaving a searing wet line before he’s under your arm, snaking his mouth over as much skin as he can get.

“Baby—“

“I know,” he grunts, puncturing it with several thrusts. “Feels good, you always feel good.”

Your eyes clench shut, mouth falling open at the angle. At the way it makes your toes curl in nothing. Something tightening, something that makes the corners of your vision blot and darken. It close. Liquid heat forming, swirling in your stomach, in your need and you—

A whine rips from your throat. All stained in disappointment, in loss as he pulls out. Leaves you empty, desperate.

You almost hiss. Throwing your head over your shoulder as you glance back to see him breathing heavily, chest oiled with sweat, hand squeezing himself at the base, a lopsided grin spread into his cheek as his other hand slides over your side. Urging, silently requesting.

“Roll onto your back, Rainy.”

It centres you, roots you when his elbows come down on either side of you.

Warm, hot mouth sliding over your jaw, his hand gripping yours, holding you tight as he teases, slides the tip of his cock through your messy folds, taunting your swollen clit.

“I love you,” he groans, pushing himself in, completely to the hilt, all in one smooth movement.

You swear he's deeper. Always say so until he trails his hand up the side of your leg, lifting them, hooking them over his waist as you wrap them around his back, and dig your ankles into his lower spine.

“Feel so good.”

“You make me feel so good.”

Your chin tips up, feeling him press open-mouth kisses to your throat. Likely feeling the vibrations of your moans against his lips, his tongue.

“Yeah?”

Nodding, rustling your head against the dishevelled sheets as his breath fans over your collarbone, “Only you.”

His pace quickens, snaps his hips to yours, grunting, moaning—the sounds making you clench around him. Chasing your second orgasm, walls fluttering around him as your fingers tighten around his, as he grasps your hip and fucks into you. Spears into you.

“I love you too,” you moan.

“I’m close. So close. Want to feel you, baby. Can you come, baby, come for me—”

Fingers knotting tighter around his, vision spotting, it all pooling, all set to spread.

Then, it snaps, splinters.

You cry out. Body erupting.

Nothing but heat and fire surging through you as you are washed in it. Drowned it. Never wishing to be saved as you go under, as your hearing fades and your eyes blur. Only aware, distantly, of the way your skin tingles as it lights with a blaze.

But, you do catch his guttural groan. The way he stills, paused, as his eyes clench and your name is buried into your ear—feeling him collapse on you.

A weight you love.

His heart hammering against yours, breath strained, difficult as you clutch at him, pulling him closer if that is at all possible. Even if it's just for a moment, before steam fills your bathroom and soap suds slide down both of your skin.

Because it's a weight that makes you smile every time, every day. One you adore. One you never want to not know.

You say as much against his mouth as your lips sloppily meet his, smiling, grinning against his mouth.

I love you.

Love you too, Rainy.

an: this was almost titled the last smut. (because of the series coming to an end, not because of some unhappy ending)

#frankie morales smut #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x reader #francisco catfish morales #francisco morales #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier smut #triple frontier #frankie morales x reader smut #francisco morales x reader smut #frankie morales x f!reader #francisco morales x f!reader #triple frontier fanfic

[martinmuhl]

• rivals?

pair: kate martin x reader

warnings: cussing, just some tension (?)

summary: you and kate have been rivals since high school and kate’s finally had enough

authors note: hi hi this is my first fic!! ill definitely improve but i had so much fun writing this and if you want, i could potentially make a part two? i’m not sure how to work tumblr yet so im still figuring it out lol but leave requests and ill try to write some!! :) i hope you enjoy!

“are you fucking kidding me?” kate spits at you as you’re guarding her. well, you were guarding her before you sent her flying to the ground. as she looks up at you and her teammates rush to her side, you roll your eyes.

“what’s the matter martin? can’t handle all this?” you shot back, stealing the ball away from her as your own teammates rush to you. your team is losing by 15 and you know there probably isn’t a chance you’d come back and win, but god did you hate kate martin and her smug ass.

you and kate had history. your high schools were rivals and everyone loved the rivalry between you two, so the both of you started to despise each other. but you both could also feel a different kind of tension too.

throughout the last few years when your college teams played, everyone always went crazy for the big rivalry between you and off the court, the both of you had to play nice in interviews. but on the court tonight felt different. you wanted her to feel the hatred you had towards her, but you also knew there was an unspoken tension and always hoped things would go further. little did you know, kate felt it as well.

your team ended up losing as you predicted as you headed back to the locker room when you heard someone shout your name. “y/n! you gonna talk to me or what?” you turn around and there she is, rushing up to you. the two of you stand in the middle of the hall, glancing around to make sure nobody was around to witness the animosity between you.

“you never want to talk after we play each other. what’s there to say now? good game? congrats? see you next game?” you reply, hands on your hips.

“what’s there to say? you shoved me to the ground. you’ve never done that before no matter how much you hate me.” she shot back, growing angrier.

“i was tired of looking at your smug face, knowing you were going to beat us. knowing you were going to beat me again..” you trail off, as this is yet another loss to the hawkeyes.

“god, you really hate me don’t you? because of what? our rivalry? that’s such bullshit. we’re both good players y/n and i’m done pretending to hate you.” she says, suddenly grabbing your arm and pulling you towards her now empty locker room.

you were shocked. she was pretending this whole time? but you could feel it. when you made it inside the locker room, you turn to her, “pretending? that’s real funny martin. then what has this been for you the whole time? you like being an asshole to me for fun to get me all riled up huh?” you take a step closer to her, seething with rage. she’s acted like an ass towards you for years now? and it’s been fake this whole time?

kate takes a step closer as well, smiling. this pisses you off, but you can feel your heart hammering and a heat grow in your stomach and between your legs. “you know i’ve always liked when you call me by my last name. i’ve never told you that because i was afraid you’d stop. y/n, this rivalry between us makes me better, but it’s never made me hate you. i have to admit though, i think it’s hot you went out of your way to target me during the game tonight.”

hot? now you were aching with anger, intensity and longing. you for sure hate her in some ways, but not enough to make you not want to grab a hold of her braid, slam her against the wall and do unspeakable things to her. you don’t though. you just take a step back, stunned. “i… i don’t know what to say..” you say, those being the only words you can form.

kate strides toward you, your back against the wall now. she’s inches from your mouth when she leans down to your ear. “don’t say anything. i do like being an asshole towards you. it turns me on seeing you get so pissed at me, especially during a game.”

you’re about to push her away, thinking she’s done toying with you. how can you believe a word she says? she’s not done though as she says in a low tone, “and you know what? i can handle all this.” she nods her head, gesturing to your body. “and one day, i will.”

she backs up suddenly then, a smirk on her lips. your heart pounds, the throbbing between your legs increasing by the second.

“your bus is probably waiting for you. i’ll see you in a few weeks, y/n. make sure you save some of that hatred for me for after the game. i’ll show you just how much i can handle it.” she winks and then she’s out the door, leaving you alone in the iowa locker room.

for once in your life, you couldn’t wait to play kate and iowa again. kate martin went from your biggest enemy to your biggest need in only hours.

#kate martin #las vegas aces #iowa wbb #kate martin fic

[rooksunday]

when the coruscant guard toured their new barracks, they immediately clocked a problem.

“where are the rest of the bunks?” stone asked, looking between his datapad of assignments, and the last of the dozen bunkrooms.

even sleeping two to a pod, with four pods to a room— even hotbunking, like they were going to have to if the ‘suggested’ shift schedule was correct— there simply weren’t enough beds.

thorn grimaced. “we could give up the rec room and mess.”

“and eat where? and we need at least one room for sitting in and staring into the middle distance,” stone countered. they’d been doing a lot of the latter that day already.

with a conceding shrug, thorn turned to fox, who had been increasingly stiff and silent as the inspection had continued. stone couldn’t blame him. the building that the senate had ‘generously provided’ appeared to be held together by force of habit and spite; stone could relate, but he didn’t want to spend a war there.

“what are you thinking, sir?” stone prompted fox. the vod was always thinking something. that was his problem.

fox shook his head slightly, as if stepping out of deep water. he hummed.

“i saw something on the holonet… leave it with me,” he said.

after fox had left—marching with determination toward the broom cupboard he’d claimed as a an office—stone turned to face thorn, who was already looking at him with a particular tilt to his visor.

“on the holonet?” thorn repeated. “have you got any idea what he’s talking about? all he looks at on there is conspiracy theories and pictures of tookas.”

stone slowly shook his head. “i’m sure it’ll be fine. i’m sure it’ll be… fine.”

the guard moved in. they made it work. what other option did they have?

six weeks after landing on coruscant, fox burst into the commanders’ shared bunk with something fluorescent streaked across his armour and the stench of burnt feathers in his wake. he’d lost his helmet somewhere. stone had been cleaning his armour and threw the cloth at fox in instinctive reaction, but fox just batted it away.

“what the kark, sir?” stone spat out, heart thick in his throat.

“whuzzat?” thorn mumbled as he rose to a sit. “fox, you stink.”

“of victory,” fox countered. he stalked across the room and thrust and vial of smoking … something… to stone. “here, drink this.”

stone’s eyebrows rose. “no? sir?”

“is it tasty?” thorn asked, sleepily.

fox produced another vial from his utility belt and held that one out to thorn. he popped the cap with his thumb. smoke boiled out, glittering like dust motes. this vial was presented to thorn.

“i put honey in yours,” fox said.

of course he did.

but if fox was handing mysterious vials to thorn, he probably wasn’t planning to kill them all. probably. besides, it had been a long assignment and the war wasn’t going anywhere. the chancellor wasn’t going anywhere. stone took his vial, and saw thorn take his.

“well. cheers, i suppose,” he said, catching eyes with thorn, who rose his vial in turn.

between them, fox danced from foot to foot like he’d drank too much water before a long shift. his attention flickered between stone and thorn as they drank. his eyes were bright and he kept making and unmaking fists at his sides. he looked like a tubie waiting for their first live fire drill.

stone drank.

“huh. that doesn’t—“

then things got really kriffed up.

cody rubbed at his comm as if that would help comprehension.

“say again? some interference on my end,” he said.

the tiny blue rex rubbed the bridge of his nose. “tookas, vod. hundreds of tookas. they’re all over the senate building. they’ve herded the chancellor into his office and are blocking the hallway. no one can move them. the optics would be terrible.”

“where did they come from? can’t the coruscant guard take care of it?” cody didn’t want to assign fox to animal crowd control, but wasn’t protecting the senate his job? an invasion probably counted.

“that’s the problem. one of the tookas… it knows dadita.”

“excuse me, captain. did you say there’s a tooka that knows dadita?” general kenobi asked, leaning in to see rex. he’d been working on the other side of the office on the negotiator; sound didn’t have far to travel.

“that’s right, sir.”

“fascinating. what did it have to say for itself?”

rex shifted his weight. he looked off-camera. “it said, ‘tell cody i’m the kar— i’m still the smart one’. sir.”

silence weighed heavily in the room. cody scratched his nose and turned the message over for a second time. a third. an eleventh.

“therefore you believe that this tooka—“

“is commander fox, sir, yes,” cody said, so rex didn’t have to.

“fascinating,” kenobi said again.

“yes, sir,” rex said, his tone implying that fascination wasn’t really the problem. “and also— excuse me, sirs, one moment.” his voice became louder as he looked off-cam again, and his brow furrowed. “did someone give fox’ika a lightsaber? why is it red? what do you mean, you found it in the chancellor’s office?”

cody met his general’s eyes, and suspected his own were as wide.

blast it, fox was the smart one.

#sat here about to ask why there weren’t more animal transformation fics then remembered i have two thumbs #halfway through the third paragraph i changed tense to past and that’s how i knew it was gonna get longer #fox spent his entire time on kamino telling cody he was the smart one and cody was the pretty one #cody refuted that #because he was pretty AND smart #coruscant guard #commander fox #crackfic #rook writes things #star wars #the clone wars #corrie monster bingo

[mopopshop]

Cooling Off

based on this request <-

Summary: Jayla (OC) and Emily do that one water dunk tiktok challenge, example

I’m 99% sure this is the trend that anon was talking about so hope yall enjoy 🤭 and i made an oc for this one too

“Hey y’all! We’re gonna do that water dunking challenge— thingy, I don’t know but we’re gonna see how well we know each other” you say excitedly.

The phone is set up on the counter, Emily’s sat in front of you with a big bowl of water and you’re standing behind her.

“So I’ve got a few questions for Em and vice versa, starting with… um.. what’s my favorite movie?”

Emily squints her eyes, thinking hard. “Uh, The the… hold on hold on!! I know I swear- It’s that um… fuckin one with—“

“Times ticking..” you singsong, smiling 

“Damn, babe you gon’ let me answer??” she teases

“I’m trying! Taking a hell of a long time to do that though”

“I know it!!  It’s that one with that one actress, uh.. Anne? Something?”

“Is that your answer?”

She groans “Yeah no… I don’t remember”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Close, but it’s The Devil Wears Prada” Before she can react, you gently push her head into the water. She comes up spluttering but grinning.

“Okay, okay, I got this next one trust”

“Alright, what are my parents names?

She scoffs “Jay this easy, Brenda and Shawn”

“Okay, okay, I see you Ms. Know-it-all” you say, giving her a kiss on the side of her head. 

Emily laughs back “You already know”

“This my last question, what’s my chipotle order?” you smile

“Oh baby, I know this shit by heart” she chuckles “ brown rice, black beans, chicken, veggies, lettuce, guac, and sour cream” 

You groan “How did you manage to make that so sexy”

Emily bursts into laughter, standing up and switching places so you’re now in front of the bowl, not before giving you a sweet kiss on the lips.

“Now, I’m not ‘boutta make this easy for you Jay”

“I got this, don’t play with me Em” you chuckle confidently

Emily grins, clearly enjoying the game. "Alright, first question: Favorite shoe I own?”

You look back at her with a confused smile “Fuck kinda question is that?”

“A damn good one, that’s what Jay” she defends playfully

You laugh harder and turn towards the camera

again, thinking carefully “Uh.. how am I supposed to know this?”

“If you really loved me you’d know”

“Shut up!” you shove her lightly “I don’t know.. you’re converse?”

“Wrong,” she grins “my Black Cat Jordan 4’s baby!”

“Em, you know I don’t give a fuck about shoes”

“Well you lost so” and before you can retaliate she dunks your head under.

You come up gasping and laughing, ready for the next question.

“Next one: When did I start playing basketball?”

“ … 8? No, no, 9”

“That your final answer?”

“Well now you’re making me feel like that’s the wrong answer” you pout

She throws her hands up in surrender “I’m not, I’m not, just asking” 

“Then yes that’s my final answer”

“Well baby, I love you so much but you had it right the first time, it was 8” she chuckles again before dunking your head in.

You come up huffing and pouting “Imma get one right”

“Last chance, Jay” she smiles “What was my first concert and who did I go with??”

“And who you went with??” you question

She beams, proudly “Yes Ma’am”

“Damn”

“I literally told you this like— the other night”

“Um um.. A Boogie it’s gotta be him”

“Correct about one thing…”

“And you went with… Dani? Sarah? Hailey? It’s gotta be one of them”

“None of them but since you got it half correct I won’t dunk you” she murmurs, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

You shrug, a mischievous grin on your face. “Fair enough. But you have to admit, I know you pretty well.”

Emily leans in, wrapping her arms around your neck, her wet hair brushing against your cheek. “Yeah, you do. And I love you for it.”

As you pull her in for another kiss, the phone’s timer beeps, signaling the end of the challenge. Emily grabs a towel, handing one to you as well.

“That’s it for now, bye people ” Emily says, waving at the camera.

———

#women’s basketball #ncaa women’s basketball #ncaa #wnba #wlw #emily engstler #emily engstler x reader #emily engstler headcannons

[whalesforhands]

what’s yours is mine (5/?)

previous masterlist next

pairing: geto suguru x reader x gojo satoru

You don’t know a lot of things, and you readily admit that. What you do know, is that the friends you’ve made aren’t something you will ever regret. Until your physical body weakens and becomes nothing, you’re more than happy to give your all until you wither away.

What’s yours can be theirs, too. They’re your friends, after-all. (Omegaverse AU)

Oh. That’s bad. That’s really, really bad. You don’t need even Mama to tell you that, don’t need her to say anything more when all your nose can pick up on was the overwhelming stench of sour milk and rotting fruit.

Yet, you ask anyway. Just to confirm. Just to see, to test the waters. You know lying is bad, but you’re not exactly averse to actually doing it.

Maybe you just aren’t that good of a kid.

“Does that mean that it’s bad?”

She snaps out of it, eyes losing their glossed over fear and realization dawning on her face as she immediately slaps a hand over her mouth, a look of evident shock and restrained worry making you stare on.

You haven’t seen her so… Panicked. Not that you remember any moments that she had been, anyway.

(Do you not watch her enough?)

“Sorry… I’m sorry…” Her hand shifts up, trailing her face until she was holding her forehead and releasing the breath that she was holding, voice trembling on a note so deep-seated in terror that you just can’t ignore it. You see her shoulders slumping and her eyes darting towards the new carpet on the floor, to the creaky old table as her body shook with just that tiniest uncertainty all along— Before her pretty, shifty eyes finally landed on you.

You can hear a sigh of relief.

“I-It’s not bad at all. No. Not at all. It’s just what some people say.” It was like she was assuring the both of you with staggered sentences that struggled to complete themselves.

Like she was jumbling, voicing words together just as they form in her head. Like she was just saying whatever was racing through her head as you catch the glimmer of sweat on her skin.

You’re pretty sure it wasn’t that hot in here… You helped her adjust the heater just now.

“You shouldn’t listen to them. Never,” She has to steady her shaking words, steady her stumbling, clumsy way of speech as the tension in the space finally lifts when she scrunches her eyes close, able to breathe easy again as she whispers those words to you. “Never listen to anyone who speaks that way.”

You blink.

“Not even you, Mama?” A tilt of your head as you’ve long gotten off of your chair, Pokemon printed socks padding towards her until your fingers lightly tapping her lap as a way to signal that you wanted to get on.

You think she really needs a hug. It always helped when you were on the verge of tears yourself.

“No…” She finally lifts her head, her hands reaching down and patting your hair as your eyes follow the trembling pen she still clutched so desperately. “Not even me, darling.”

You can see her twitch, watch as that same pen she had been clasping onto all this time finally fall out of her hands and tumble onto the recently bought, recently cleaned— And much softer carpet.

You were waiting for that to happen.

So you chase after it, crouching down to be able to pick it up, before running back into her arms under her watchful gaze and crawling onto her lap the next.

“Thank you.” A kiss to your hair and a pat of your head as you wrap your arms around her waist, face falling into contentment at the feel of being able to bury your face into your Mama’s softness. You can feel the way her sweatshirt feels warm and fluffy against your cheek, a fuzziness in your chest making you yearn for more pats and to hear her soft voice lull you into a sweeter comfort.

Though, your curiosity never sates.

“So is it not nice to be an omega?” You’re not exactly careful, not exactly getting the memo that it wasn’t something you should pry too much on even after that reaction. “Mama, do you hate being one?”

You’re just a kid, after all.

“It’s fine to be one,” A stroke of your head as her tone finally returns to that soft, gentle coo that you liked hearing so much. Albeit just that tiniest bit shaky. “Omegas are rare. You won’t see many around.”

“So…” Your eyes blink up at her, a small bit of an excited smile playing on your face when you realise your Mama was— Is special. “You’re like finding a Gold Machinedramon in a pack of Digimon cards?”

Now she is the one blinking at you, eyebrows furrowing momentarily with brief, apparent confusion as her hand stopped stroking your hair.

“Yes… Exactly like that, sweetie.”

You knew it. Satoru showed off his to you recently, your eyes glimmering at the way he had held that precious card up to the shining sun as Suguru could only sigh in the background.

“But being an Omega isn’t all that good.” You can feel her lean a cheek against your head, tenderly hugging her arms around you tighter as she speaks. “And some people might… Only love someone else just because they are an Omega.” She clears her throat.

“Or an Alpha.”

“Mn…?” What does that even mean? How can you love someone simply based on just that? But to be fair, you’ve seen cartoon characters get married because they kissed a frog.

“You shouldn’t befriend people like that— Or let them love you, okay?”

Huh? You don’t exactly get it, but it does sound like she’s right.

You feel her chest vibrate with a chuckle. “You’ll know a lot more when you’re older.” You can feel her pinch your cheek as you pout. “You should be worrying about what you want to eat for dinner later.”

When you’re an adult, huh? You don’t really like being told that, not even by your pretty Mama. Yet her last sentence still tugs a little too hard on your thoughts, pulling you into a state of worry and reassurance.

Because Mama doesn’t need to be anything more than your Mama for you to love her.

“I’ll love you even if you’re not an Omega, Mama.” It’s real, and your promise to her as you take another breath in at her scent, still wafting with the remnant aftermath of soured milk, yet slowly calming into waves of the sweet honey you love.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Her fingers comb through your hair as you hum contentedly. Afternoons after school might become your second favourite part of the day after walking to school with Suguru in the morning.

“So which one should I be, Mama?” It’s your final, whispered question. You don’t know if she heard it, don’t know if it was even audible from how muffled you were as your face is pressed directly into her chest.

Her mindless, aimless petting of your head stops as you feel her lean back to be staring down at you. It’s hard to discern, hard to tell what emotion was in her eyes. Yet, it was evident, despite how small it was, or how insignificant it would be to another person.

Her eyes were definitely wet.

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll love you no matter which one you end up being.”

(“Oh, and I want cheese hamburg for dinner today!”

A soft giggle.

“Alright.”)

You’re still stuck on it, though. Even as your eyes are narrowed at the ground and Suguru’s scarf is wrapped tight around your neck... All whilst you’re poking at the concrete walkway with a stick you picked up from the ground, as cold as it might be.

Ambiguity. Maybe you should make that your new enemy. Your sworn foe who you can vow to defeat in the final battle. It fits all the marks needed to be one too, right? A cool name, hard to spell… And the fact that you don’t quite like it for terrorizing you right now with the unfamiliar and the uncertain.

Even the cold spring air isn’t enough to make you forget. This season was ambiguous too, you think. The moments right after winter when the trees are still bare and there just wasn’t enough flowers blooming to call it spring just yet.

You can’t even call it winter either. There’s no snow, the air isn’t as cold, your breath can’t be seen— You don’t like ambiguity. Not one bit. So you hope that either Satoru or Suguru are already waiting at the—

“Gah, goddamn midget fuckin’ sized playgrou—“

That’s not a child. Or even anyone you recognize as a matter of fact. A stranger. A stranger had made his way into the playground that Satoru claimed nobody else was allowed into.

(Though to be fair, you did also trespass.)

He’s big. That’s probably the second thing you notice about him when your smaller feet are trotting up towards him. Maybe he’s too big for both your and the playground’s liking, that’s why his butt won’t fit comfortably on the seat.

You will speak for the things that don’t have the will to speak for themselves! That’s… What the magical girl said on that anime yesterday. You think.

“…it’s cause you’re too big, mister.” Mama would scold you for approaching a stranger like this. But you’re more intrigued by the fact someone had actually defied everything Satoru had told you about this sacred space, had dared to bully your beloved play area!

(With the power invested in you, you will…! Probably try to get him to stop kicking the slide with his dirty shoe.)

He broke all the rules. You’re sure most adults can read, right? Did he not see the big sign and really, really long letter of notice that you can’t quite read well yet?

Maybe he has trouble reading too. It is pretty hard.

You hope that’s not insulting to say, though. You’ll apologize later… But first you wanna know why this stranger’s all bruised and patched up with seemingly hundreds of bandaids as he grunts and scowls at inanimate playground infrastructure before locking his eyes onto you.

His hair is really dark.

“The hell? The fuck you doing in ‘ere—“

“You say a lot of bad words too.” You’re blinking up at him with a blank look as you continue, curiosity whirling through your head. Is this an adult too? “Your Mama would be sad if she heard you say that.”

Your eyes catch a glimpse of the small little tag on the leather bag so casually hanging off of his too big arm. You can’t exactly catch his name, but you recognize that it definitely… Probably was from this area? You’re not really sure. Nor have you walked anywhere past the playground, the market with your Mama… Or school.

But you do know that he looks pretty old. Mama did mention once that there’s a lot more older kids here than ones your age. He’s definitely one of those.

So… He’s an older kid that looks like an adult? How ambiguous, now that you think about it. An ambiguous ‘adult that’s not really an adult’ who looked like he doesn’t know how to react to you as his eyebrows furrow and his nose twitches, eyes glaring down at you before it suddenly clicks in his head at the way you had so fearlessly stepped inside.

“Tell ya what,” He doesn’t lean down, doesn’t squat to be at your height as he crosses the bruised skin of his slightly roughed up arms. He’s quite scary, if you think about it. “I won’t tell that Gojo kid you let me trespass if ya don’t tell anybody ‘bout me. Especially if you see some piss ugly punks who look like they got beaten up real bad ‘round here.”

You blink. Did you just get… Scammed? Is this really your fault? Were you at fault for not chasing him out? But to be fair he has a point. You don’t exactly know what Satoru would do if he did find out this very big man stepped more than ‘one of his dirty toes!’ into his playground.

And honestly? You don’t think neither you nor Suguru would be able to talk your stubborn friend out of demanding capital punishment for this stranger. You would definitely need more than the 13 cookies you watched him gobble up only a couple days ago.

Take the deal. It’s for the greater good, you think. Whatever that means. Heroes say it all the time, no?

“Okay.”

(You’re a hero now.)

And that’s how you ended up sitting on the swing seat next to him. Don’t get yourself wrong, he’s definitely scary, definitely looks like he could throw you around with one pinky finger.

And kind of reminds you of those delinquent characters you saw in the movie at Suguru’s house when his Papa had left it on accidentally.

Maybe you can ask if he’s a villain? Or if he’s a gangster. Would he have cool tattoos like in that movie? Maybe he’s got a metal bat stored away in that old bag of his.

“Mister, are you an Omega?” Yet, that’s all that you end of asking, all that passes your thoughts once more. The talk of these types of things within your home, within your school, on newspapers and on TV… It’s the best question that would best cure you of the knowledge itch.

Cause older kids like him should know more than you, right?

“This what kids talk ‘bout these days?” He sounds… So monotonously unfazed. “Don’tcha got better things to rattle on about?”

Honestly? You do. But your horoscope said that today was a day that you shouldn’t leave things unanswered, for they could bring about ‘unfortunate circuses’ or something like that.

So you ask anyway. You don’t know if you’ll really like a circus. Especially if it’s a bad one.

“No.” Your sandals kick up the sand below you, outsole making trenches on ground. “Don’t you have better things to do than get injured?”

Silence. A crow caws in the background as he narrows his eyes at you.

“Annoying brat, ain’t cha?” A huff out his nose as his words become as dry as the air, his head leaning back to look up at the darkening sky. Maybe it’s just you, but you also don’t like how the orange glow disappears all too quickly when you’re too wrapped up in your head to appreciate it.

At least it makes the shadow you casted on the ground longer and longer— Yet not quite as big compared to his.

“I’m an Alpha.”

Woahhhh. You don’t think you know any other Alphas past Geto-mama. Maybe that’s why he was so big. Geto-mama was definitely really tall. Though, you don’t think you’ve ever even seen an Alpha go to a playground for children.

“Is it fun?” It sure doesn’t look like it for him. You thought he’d be happy to be what was seemingly the strongest willed one. The one Mama talked about first.

(He could definitely find a Gold Machinedramon way faster than you, right?)

“Heh. Ain’t no way, kid.” The scar on his lip looks kind of cool, you think. He leans back, those scruffy bangs of his finally moving out of the way enough for you to be able to catch the shimmering green of his eyes.

He really did have a big shadow.

“Alphas are some of the biggest losers out there.” The way he speaks has too much spite, as if he sounded defeated as you watch his hand pat his thigh as if in search of something— All for naught.

“Ah, fuck. I’m out.”

A softer swear under his breath that you would have caught had it not been for how distraught you were at his words.

“But when I get bigger—“

“You won’t like most of ‘em when ya get bigger either, kid. They’re assholes. Every single last one of them rat bastards.”

Oh.

That’s quite the revelation. But at the same time, you feel something akin to a lump in your chest, an unsteadiness to your heart. You know it’s not tears that were threatening to spill, know it’s not panic-stricken fear that will leave you shaking like a leaf. In fact, you recognize it the best nowadays.

Uncertainty. A knowing doubt. Ambiguity. Your worst enemy.

“That’s not true, mister.” Your feet lift off the ground as you start to lightly swing again. “Alphas can be nice people too.”

You would know. Geto-mama was different, was not anything like he had just described. You like her— Love her, actually. She’s been nothing but good to you in the few years you’ve met her.

A kind lady. Your Mama says it’s hard to get Geto-mama to stop talking sometimes, though.

(You should ask for her astrology sign later. Just in case the news says she’s gonna have a bad day. It’s good to have someone warn you if they’re unlucky that day.)

“That so, huh?” He’s looking at you now, letting his lips stretch out into another smug grin with an uncharacteristic softness in his eye. “Then I hope to see how that shitty mindset of yours holds up when ya get older, kid.”

He’s kinda cool. He would probably make a really good drawing for someone. But—

“You said another bad word.”

“…you been keepin’ track?”

“Mhm.”

The sunlight finally fades when he sighs, the heels of his beaten loafers digging into the sand below as the metal of the chains squeak, finally free of his added weight. He stretches, arms behind his head as he yawns at the fading orange of the night.

“Remember our deal, kid.” His back faces you, only to turn his head only slightly, letting you see the scarred lip that you admired so much upon a grin. "And don't stay out too late out 'ere."

He wasn’t a bad Alpha either, you decide.

——

“Tch! That old man down the street’s a scammer!” Gojo Satoru is pouting, chubby cheeks puffed up with narrowed eyes and stained lips as he pokes at the supposed, promised ‘strawberry’ flavoured ice. “There’s no difference in this one either!”

“He only made them different colours. The melon one tastes the same too.” Geto Suguru is pulling away once he’s had a bite of all three, a hand dabbing away at the remnant sweetness on his lips.

“Was he too lazy to make more because it’s still cold? Mmm... Maybe we should've asked Kimiko-san to bring your shaved ice machine instead."

“No way! She would’ve said that I couldn’t eat it with any syruppppp!”

“That’s cause y’er meant to be on a sweets ban, Satoru. Didya manage to even get it lifted even a little bit?”

“Hmph!”

“So you didn’t.”

“Hmph!”

And there you were, sat upon the playground’s deck, hidden from the sunlight and protected by the shade as you poked at the supposed ‘blue hawaii’ flavoured shaved ice treat.

It doesn’t really taste ‘blue’ or very ‘hawaii’. Not that you know what either of those taste like. Though, you’re not quite bothered by the fact that it tastes oddly similar to Suguru’s green coloured ‘melon’ one as Satoru pokes your mouth with a spoonful of his own ‘strawberry’.

“Heyyyyyyyy! Pay attention to us! Ya can’t daze off when we’re discussing important stuff!”

You’re still bothered by it. Even as your mouth parts to allow the spoon to be shoved not so gently into your mouth, even as you chew in thought as a head lays upon your shoulder and Suguru wiping your mouth with a handkerchief already pretty stained in blue, green and red.

“I’ll love you no matter which one you end up being.”

Ah, your old enemy. Ambiguity. You find it quite troublesome to be you right now, your eyes closed in focused thought and a hand on your chin to sell the look. You can’t just suddenly be okay with any one of them just because Mama said she didn’t have a preference.

It’s not because you think one is superior to another, not because you dislike all of them. Or worse; prefer one over another.

You just need to at least pick one to work towards being.

"Which one would you guys wanna be?" It’s sudden, very out of topic from the Digimon debate your friends were having as they practically hung off of you, tossing your hair about or lying on your shoulder… But you think they understand regardless. They always did, no matter how strange or irrelevant the situation may be.

(You’re starting to think they’re mind readers.)

“…is this because of what Tachibana said?” Ah. You’ve been seen through in a blink of an eye. Were you that obvious? Or was it just because Suguru had always been the type to notice this type of thing?

“You shouldn’t care too much about what someone like him says, (name)-chan.”

Satoru pouts beside you, a hand lightly smacking your shoulder as retribution as you feel him grab your face, pinching lightly at your cheeks as you finally look at him.

“Why’re ya even thinkin’ about other kids?” He squeezes your face for good measure. “We’re here, aren’t we?”

You blink, feeling mushed and very much squished. “Sorry.” You should’ve known they wouldn’t have liked this type of thing either. Maybe you should’ve read the air better.

“There ya go apologizin’ and not telling us what you think again.” A cross of fingers and a sudden flick to your forehead as you recoil back slightly, the only support being Suguru’s hands pushing you back up as your hands go up to be rubbing your reddening cheeks instead. “Don’tcha get tired?”

It’s an honest question on his part, his snappy way of talking and his huffy mumbling about how you need to stop that annoying habit of yours.

But you’re trying, you really are.

“I’ll give ya ice later if it still hurts.” That’s how he is. Geto Suguru who was kind and soft and always tried to soften the blows Satoru lands upon you.

Though, your black haired friend still tuts at him. “You shouldn’t hit her, Satoru.” He stops to really think about it for a moment, slow realisation in his words. “Save ‘em for others who deserve it.”

Their conversation is lost on you once again, your eyes only the slightest bit teary when you open them, blinking up at the both of them before you’re practically smooshed once again by the way they’ve decided to close their faces in on you, their own cheeks pressed against each other from how closely squished all three of you were.

“You cryin’?”

“Did Satoru squeeze you too hard?” Suguru’s brows are scrunched in worry, knitted together in anxiousness as he elbows the white-haired counterpart.

“O-Oi! I didn’t use that much strength—!”

It’s nice to have people worry about you, you think. It makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside as you feel them tap lightly against your face, pressing the cups of the chilly shaved ice against your cheeks as you simply… Slump forward and let it happen.

Friends are nice to have.

——

You’re finally 7 when you’re using a leg to push open the creaky metal gate, dragging a rather large basket of food behind you and grunting with each step. Mama did pack an uncharacteristically huge amount of food for all of you upon your mention of the mini picnic at the playground.

(But to be fair, you think all three of you do eat quite a bit combined.)

You’re excited. Not just for the food, but for how fun it would be, especially in spring amongst the pretty flowers that just started to bloom. A slight breeze passes by you, flowers blooming and scattering onto the crown of your head as petals fluttered down from the bright pink of cherry blossom blooms.

It’s pretty. So pretty. They blot and cover the plainness of the grey concrete beneath you, creating a path of blushing rosiness with every step you took.

You noticed that even the sunlight was gentle as it spots down from in between those bunched up leaves, so careful as they shine onto the ground. It makes your trek all the more delightful as you hum the tune to the morning news channel.

Ito Saya was quite the pretty news anchor… Even if she only mostly did the weather reports.

Though, you’re hoping that you won’t be too late, considering the fact that you’re the one lugging the rather large basket of treats there. Ah, whatever.

You just hope you don’t miss anything important.

And your eyes don’t deceive you when you witness the chill of spring become tangible in the form of a cute peck to the sakura petal stuck upon the winter child’s cheek.

You watch how the petals fall, how you think you’re forgetting to breathe properly as it hitches in your throat. Were you even blinking anymore? Your feet seemed rooted to the dirt beneath to admire them all the more.

“Is that enough yet?” Geto Suguru is grimacing at his friend, blushing just as pink as the flowers that had flittered onto his hair, petals dancing as they descend onto the hastily smoothed out picnic blanket.

“Mmm…” He had his eyes closed, arms crossed across his chest as the smugness doesn’t cease to stop. “One more would do!”

“Aren’t you being too greedy now?!”

“You’re the one who hit me! So ya have to kiss my boo boos!”

Ah. The pretty moment is ruined, so you can’t help but giggle as you watch from afar. Your friends are the sweetest.

“(nameeeeeee)!” Your snowy-haired Satoru is immediately on his feet, his sandals long kicked off to the side as he waves an arm at you. “Suguru kicked my face!!!!!”

It comes out as a whine, a complaint. Even if he had made the poor boy make up to him and console his pain.

“I didn’t even kick that hard!”

“Ya you did! Gimme all your cake if you really wanna say sorry!”

Your friends are truly the sweetest, you think. When Suguru is the first one dragging Satoru over to help you with your basket, when you’re watching as the blue-eyed boy pouts about the sting on his face, and even when you’re giving Suguru his hug in greeting first, letting him smile into your shoulder as you hold him tight.

“(nameeeeee)! Gimme mine next!”

Your friends are truly sweet— Especially when you mimic the shy kiss Suguru had given to the apple-cheeked boy that had shied away the moment you smiled so brightly at him.

You couldn’t ask for more.

“I’d wanna be a beta with you, you know?” Suguru’s talking through a mouthful of sandwich, cheeks stuffed to the capacity as he tries to push even more in.

Manners are mostly forgotten when not in the vicinity of an adult. And even more so if it was to answer a question you had asked a week ago.

“But… I think Beta would be good, right? It’s in between and has the most balance.” Balance in the sense that— You haven’t heard anything negative about it yet.

“Maybe I should settle on that?”

“Ya both think too little!” There’s a shift, bare feet stepping against the plush softness of the rather well made blanket when Gojo Satoru stand up tall on his own two feet, the shine of his eyes behind fluttering white lashes making you stare a little too hard.

He’s so cute.

“I’m gonna be an Alpha and make both of you my servants!” He has a triumphant huff to his tone, an all too confident posture in his stance as he points a demanding finger at the both of you.

“He’s got some imagination.”

“Mama says it’s cute when we act like babies.”

“Hey! Are ya both listenin’ to me?!”

But their replies have you stopping to think for a bit. How would you know what you would end up as anyway? Is there a way to tell? Would astrology have anything to do with it?

Maybe you need to watch the news a bit more.

“Huh? (name)-chan. It’s smell, isn’t it? That's how you tell.” Suguru’s tilting his head to the side as he watches your eyes blink back into focus, waving a hand in front of your face in efforts to bring you back.

They’re really good at reading minds.

“No, ya dummy. Y’er talkin’ out loud.”

It’s better to believe in magic. The mystical is definitely more fun, and you definitely wanna be a fairy someday. It’s gonna be—

“Satoru.” Your nose twitches when he leans over you to reach for the cream puffs he had Kimiko-san prepare. “You smell like sunlight.”

Maybe different people had different smells.

“Is there anything?” You’re sat on your knees with your arms stretched out to the sides in front of them, barely audible but just enough so for the wind to whisper your voice into their ears, watching as Suguru’s bangs sway with the branches of that familiar tree you were all sat under.

"Can't really make out anything on you, actually." Suguru's face is pressed into your hair from behind, his nose taking decisive whiffs to help answer your question. "All I can smell is that shampoo you and your mama use... Satoru, any luck?"

“Mmm…” His nose is nudging against the side of your neck, taking a deep whiff of the skin before he pulls back. “S’ not that there’s anything actually—“ He dives in for another, his soft face against your own as you hold his shoulder to steady him.

You can feel how the strands of Suguru's hair was brushing against your nape, his palm now resting on your shoulder as his free hand brushes through your hair.

You see crystal blue peek up at you, before leaning back to hold his chin to scrutinize a bit more.

“Hmm… Water, maybe?” His eyes are closed in stark thought as white hair is caressed by another swirl of spring wind. “Can’t really get anything past that, though.”

Oh. You had no smell then. Nothing.

"It's okay. It's enough that you smell nice to us."

You hear him— Suguru say that pretty often, actually. Words that keep affirming you that it’s enough because it’s them, that you don’t need to go any further than that.

“Isn’t it enough that it’s for us?” He taps against the neatly wrapped plastic that held the cookies that Mama had helped you to bake in advance in attempts to make new friends within the classroom.

“Why’d you need it for the other kids?”

You want to have people who like you at the very least, even if you can’t make friends with them. That’s why.

“Hmm… Don’t you think Satoru would be mad?”

Maybe Geto Suguru was just that type of friend. Almost as clingy as your Satoru— Yet not quite letting you see what he truly was thinking. He’s always been quite polite; with you and the others around him.

Yet, you can’t help but feel like there’s something else behind his words, his actions— And his demeanour. You just can’t quite place an ascertain finger on it even when he smiles at you and blows a petal off of your hair.

So gentle. So pretty. He kind of reminds you of your Mama, if you think about it.

"Okay.”

And he looks content with your reply, his arms hugging around you briefly before they pulled away.

He’s really warm.

“Well? Ya have your answers now?” Satoru’s tilting his head at you before he drinks directly from the bottle of juice Suguru had brought, downing the apple juice and completely disregarding the cups Kimiko-san had so graciously prepared.

Maybe? Probably. You don’t really know for sure when you’re curling your fingers into a fist and back into a splayed hand.

It’s enough for now.

previous masterlist next

#jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #satosugu x reader

[happeehippie]

could you do something with joe based on obsessed by olivia rodrigo?

obsessed. || joe burrow

(this is my first time doing something that’s writing instead of social media, and it’s longer than expected. i hope you enjoy.)

*if i told you how much i think about her, you’d think i was in love. *

I’m not typically an insecure person by any means, but when it comes to her I can’t help myself. When Joe and I first started dating everyone online made sure I knew that they wanted it to be her. That they were rooting for the downfall of our relationship because they believed he was meant to be with someone else. It took a huge toll on my mental health in the beginning. And as much as I like to pretend I don’t think about it, it’s never gone away. I compare myself to her at every turn, think about her often, curious if he thinks about her also..

*i’m so obsessed with your ex, i know she’s been asleep on my side of your bed.*

Joe and I had been dating for a while and he finally asked me to move in. I was ecstatic, spending every single day with the person I love sounded like a dream. No one could take the smile off my face, except her. Joe had told me to use the bedside table for some of my things, he told me to make myself at home because that’s what this place is now. I opened the drawer and found a peppermint chapstick and some lightly salted almonds.

“Hey babe?” I say loud enough for Joe to hear me from the ensuite bathroom.

“What’s up?” He pokes his head out of the door, toothbrush dangling out of his mouth.

“I was just wondering what I should do with these? I’m assuming they don’t belong to you..” I mumble, I didn’t even have to listen to his answer, I knew who’s they were.

“Uh.” Joe is frozen speechless for a moment before recovering, “Yeah, babe just toss them in the trash.”

He turns back to the sink to finish his nighttime routine and I sit there lost in my thoughts. I don’t want to think about her, I don’t want to think about the love he had before me because it’s over for a reason. But knowing that she has slept on this side of the bed that we now share is doing something detrimental to my brain. When Joe steps out of the bathroom it doesn’t take him long to notice the look on my face and the items still lingering in my hands. He walks over and gently opens my fingers to take them and toss them in the trash. When he comes back he tilts up my chin to look me in the eyes..

“I’m sorry, I should’ve checked everything before you got here. You didn’t need to see that.”

“No, it’s fine. I just wasn’t really expecting that I guess.”

“It’s in the past, I don’t care about that anymore. I always hated when she was crunching on almonds at bedtime anyway.”

We both laugh as he places a gentle kiss on my forehead.

*I’m starin’ at her like I wanna get hurt. And I remember every detail you have ever told me.*

She wasn’t supposed to be here. Joe promised me that she hadn’t RSVP’d and she wasn’t on the guest list, but here she is. Sitting across from me in all her glory, She is laughing with people I’ve never met and I’m reminded that I’m new here. I’m reminded that they had a whole life together before I came along, a life that included most everyone here. I’ve convinced myself people are staring. Do they want me gone just like everyone else? Do they think Joe would be better off getting back together with her? He told me once that they always had fun at weddings, he said things were good between them when everyone else was around. He said she smiled more and didn’t pay as much attention to the small things when there was so much going on around them. That she was always daydreaming about what they’d have one day and the tension would dissipate for a few hours. I wonder if she’s wishing she was here with him. She looks up and a huge smile spreads across her face, for a moment I think she’s smiling at me, then I realize that Joe is coming up behind me. For some reason that makes me sick to my stomach, that she’s smiling at him like that. He gives her a small wave before turning his attention to me.

“Would you dance with me? Please?” He adds at the end with his puppy dog eyes. I can’t say no. He takes me by the hand and leads me out onto the floor. “Have I told you how beautiful you look in this dress?” He whispers as he pulls me close.

“A few times. But I’m not tired of hearing it.” I laugh

“Well you do, I’ve barely been able to take my eyes off you. Everyone loves you, they’re stoked that you decided to come.” That Insecure part of me pokes it’s head out again. Do you mean it? I want to ask but that’s not what comes out.

“Are you just saying that so I don’t freak out later?”

“No. I’m saying it because it’s true.” I give him a pointed look, “And so that you don’t leave and over analyze everything you’ve done tonight.” He laughs, leaning in giving me a gentle kiss. Out of the corner of my eye I see her looking over at us and I feel like smiling because I realize.. he hasn’t looked away from me once.

*She’s got those lips, she’s got those hips the life of every fuckin’ party. She’s talented, she’s good with kids she even speaks kindly about me.*

Torture. That’s what this feels like. It’s Sam’s birthday today and he’s having a huge get together. She’s here, dancing with some of the other WAGs. Joe always said she was the life of the party, I wish I could hate her. I’m still trying to recover from the sickening feeling of watching Joe’s nephews run into her arms as they walked in when Jess approaches me.

“You’ve been staring.” She simply states.

“I know. I can’t help it.” I huff out a sigh, finally taking my eyes off the shiny bright light prancing around in the middle of the room.

“Maybe you should speak to her, she’s really great.” Bile rises in my throat at the thought of that encounter.

“That’s the problem.”

“She thinks you’re wonderful,” She doesn’t know me is what runs through my mind, “She’s glad that you and Joe are together. She wants him to be happy, and anyone can see he’s happy with you.”

“I wish that made me feel better.” I finish the rest of my drink and step out onto the lawn for some fresh air.

*I know you love me, and I know it’s crazy.*

I haven’t said a word since we left the party. Joe keeps looking over at me like I could explode any second, I can see his hand twitching like he wants to reach out and touch me but convinces himself otherwise. After several excruciating minutes he speaks up.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about.” He whispers, his voice gravely from sitting in silence.

“I don’t think you want to know what I’ve been thinking about Joey.”

“I think I already know. I just wish you’d talk to me about it. Instead of keeping it bottled up inside.” At this point we are pulling into the garage but neither of us makes a move to get out of the vehicle.

“Do you think about her? When we go to things like that do you miss her?” My voice is barely above a whisper and I’m holding my breath, I know he loves me. I’ve never doubted that. I think I just need to hear him say that he’s choosing me.

“I don’t.” He sounds so sure of himself, like this is the easiest question in the world, “I think about you. Every second of every day. When I go to things like that I watch you, I get excited when I see you with the people I care about, and when you’re not there, I miss you.” He takes my hand and squeezes it three times.

“They all love her.”

“And I love you. Hey, look at me.” I tilt my chin so that I can see him, “No more of this crazy talk okay? I love you, I want you, and I don’t like the idea of you comparing yourself to anyone else. You’re one of a kind.” I know. I know. I know.

“I think I just needed to hear you say it.” I give a small smile, “I promise.. no more obsessing over your ex.”

#joe burrow #nfl #nfl imagine #bengals #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader

[youcouldmakealife]

Ty/Johnny, Various Wilsons; hunting season

Another Kickstarter fill, for the request: I love, love the story of the guy dating into the youngest of a hockey family with all the older brothers threatening him. I think there have been two stories to date. Will you write something in that line for me?

Here's a bit more about them. They've appeared on tumblr before here, which is the exact same prompt because...I filled this prompt right after the Kickstarter closed. And subsequently forgot, because that is how long it has been

Please enjoy laughing at me and, hopefully, this.

Ty didn’t really know what he was getting into, going to the Wilsons’ cottage. Like, sure, the whole ‘dudes out for his blood for besmirching their baby bro (who besmirched his damn self before Ty ever met him, but Ty isn’t suicidal enough to say that out loud)’ — that he knew about. But he hadn’t expected it to be so — remote. Like nobody can hear you scream remote. Like nobody will find your body remote.

It’s not that Ty hasn’t been to cottages before, but they weren’t anything like this. Maybe he just hung out with rich dudes cosplaying at outdoorsy or something — absolutely zero comment about the Wilsons — but usually the cottages were just, you know, nice houses on a lake. Some cool boats and shit to play with. Sure, you’re in nature or whatever, but also there’s a convenience store a ten minute drive away that will sell you a case of beer to go with your bait and your tank of propane. Maybe throw in some ammo, or something from the hush hush fireworks selection.

But this isn’t charming small town cottage. This isn’t even kind of sketchy small town cottage. There’s nothing around but woods, and forget about picking up a case of beer: Ty doesn’t even know if he can get to a neighbor in ten minutes. It’s making him feel very 18th century or whatever. Like if he gets a small cut it’ll get infected and by time the doctor gets there they’ll have to cut his foot off.

“Antibiotics are a thing,” Johnny says, surprisingly patiently. Ty thinks he’s just relieved that he used an example that didn’t involve his brothers. Little does he know, that small cut is Wilson inflicted in this scenario. And every scenario, honestly. Ty’s cause of death is almost certainly going to be Wilson related. “Also, do doctors even do house calls anymore?”

Ty considers this. “So you’re saying I’m definitely getting gangrene.”

“I get it, Ty,” Johnny says. “You don’t like it here.”

Uh oh.

“It’s not that I don’t like it here—“ Ty says. He’s sure it’s very charming when he isn’t sharing it with three dudes plotting his murder.

Well, even Johnny’s brothers weren’t there they’d be just as far from civilization, and they’ve just established that doctors don’t make house calls anymore, so maybe Ty would die of gangrene anyway, and he’s not big on the idea of running out of anything turning into a whole ass trip for provisions, but —

Johnny rolls away from him, so Ty can no longer see his pout, but he swears he can still feel it, tragic Johnny face delivered at the wall. Johnny may, unfortunately, be the Wilson most likely to lead to Ty’s death. Ty isn’t afraid of him at all, though, which is what got him into this whole mess.

“Johnny,” Ty says. “Come on. I like it here.”

“You don’t have to lie,” Johnny says, voice small, and Ty closes his eyes, gathering his strength.

“I like it anywhere where you are,” Ty says. This room, for example. It’s small, the bed taking up practically the whole room, and the mattress is a little lumpy, like nobody updated it even after four members of the family started making NHL money, but it’s got Johnny, so it’s a great room. Fantastic.

There’s a bang on the door, not so much a knock as someone slamming a fist into it. The door knob rattles, but doesn’t open. Ty’s very favorite thing about this room is the lock on the door. “Up and at ‘em, daylight’s wasting.”

“You heard the man,” Johnny says, sitting up, not meeting Ty’s eye. “Daylight’s wasting.”

And why waste daylight when they can waste Ty instead?

“I’ll be right behind you,” Ty says. He spends a couple minutes in the room — not as charming now that Johnny isn’t in it, but Ty still loves that lock — before he starts getting paranoid about what Johnny’s brothers must be saying about him while he isn’t there, and almost runs to the kitchen.

Four Wilsons look up at him, conversation halting. It definitely feels like there was some Ty talk happening.

“You want bacon?” Jeremiah asks from his spot in front of the stove. “Toast? Eggs?”

“Sure, that all sounds good, ” Ty says. The spots on either side of Johnny are taken — he’d like to think that was something his brothers coordinated, rather than something Johnny did — so he sits down across from him. “Any plans for today, or—“

“The guys want to go for a hike,” Johnny says. “But we don’t have to if you don’t want.”

Ty swears he can feel three sets of eyes like laser beams right now. And what could go wrong, going even deeper into the woods?

“No, sure, I love hiking,” he says weakly.

“Great,” Jack says.

“Glad to have you,” Jason says.

“Wonderful,” Johnny says sourly, and it’s only then Ty realizes he just agreed to give up their only chance of time alone.

“I mean—“ he says.

Three sets of laser beams on him again.

“Should be fun,” he mumbles.

#fic snippet #ty/johnny

[hero-of-the-wolf]

So here's a thing me and @crazylittlejester have been working on. Enjoy :)

Summary: After a difficult journey during the day full of obstacles and hard battles, Time finds himself trapped repeating the same battle over and over again. He has no choice, if he wants to save his brothers. However every time he uses his ocarina to reverse fate, he finds the price of saving his lost companion is the life of another.

or: Time loop fic where everyone keeps dying and Time is the only one who can save them all.

Someone was talking.

Already?

Time sighed, resigning himself to wakefulness and opening his eye. Warriors was leaning over him, his hand already resting on his shoulder.

“It’s your turn for watch.”

Right.

Time sat up with a groan. It felt like no time at all had passed since they’d first set up camp. And before then, they’d been stuck in a grueling battle that had burned through most of their supplies. It had been a long day.

He glanced over to see Warriors smirking at him. “What?”

“Oh, nothing.” The captain walked over to his own bed roll, no doubt excited at the prospect of a good night’s rest. “I was just thinking about how much ‘old man’ suits you, is all. I swear I could hear every bone in your body pop.”

Time rolled his eye, even though he knew Warriors couldn’t see it. “Very funny.”

“Thanks, I try.” Warriors flopped down on his roll dramatically with a sigh. “How are you doing, by the way?”

Time hummed at that. “I’m sure we’ve all had worse battles.”

“You’re not answering my question, Sprite.”

“I’m fine. Truly.” He sat down on the log Warriors had previously been sitting on. “We'll head to the nearest town to pick up some more supplies in the morning. Hyrule mentioned that we should be able to reach one by the end of the day.”

Warriors hummed in response. He fell silent after that, no doubt already giving in to his exhaustion. Good. He needed the rest. Time knew his shoulder was still bothering him, though the captain would never admit it.

He glanced up at the sky, noting the stars. They weren’t as bright here as they were at home, but they were beautiful all the same. The moon was out too, an almost sinister looking sliver of a smile. Time shook his head at the memories of a different moon with a sinister face and turned his attention to the fire in front of him. It was low already, but he was sure that it would last until morning. He took in a deep breath, savoring the peace that only being this deep in nature could bring.

A bokoblin’s horn reverberated through the previously still night air, making him jump.

“Everyone, up!” He shouted, springing to his feet. His sword was already in his hand. There was no time to put on his armor. The monsters were already pouring into the clearing.

Everyone scrambled to their feet, grabbing their weapons. There wasn’t even time to reach their shields. Time was lucky enough to have had an extra precious few seconds to grab his.

He felt Warriors’ back press against his own. He felt far too exposed without his armor. All of them did. But Warriors wasn’t afraid. He was annoyed.

“I can’t believe this,” he grumbled. “I got like, what, five minutes of sleep? Couldn’t they have waited until morning??”

Time's lips twitched up at that, despite their unfortunate circumstances. The poor captain had taken first watch. He’d gotten basically no sleep since their earlier battle, and he was prepared to make it everyone else's problem.

Time pressed harder against him, dodging the blow of an incoming lizalfos, and Warriors’ whining switched to complaining about his still sore shoulder.

Everything passed in a blur after that. Once the last monster was felled, Time hurried to do a headcount. They’d been at a serious disadvantage. He had faith in his boys, but he needed to make sure everyone was okay and accounted for.

Warriors was next to him, dusting himself off.

Twilight was helping Four back up to his feet.

Sky was sitting on the ground, looking winded but otherwise okay.

Hyrule and Legend were chatting off to the side.

That left….

“Has anyone seen Wild and Wind?”

Everyone’s attention shifted to him at that.

“I thought that they were with you,” Twilight frowned.

“I thought that they were with you,” Legend retorted.

“The last I saw them, they were over… there.”

Time looked where Sky was pointing. It was still far too dark to see clearly, so he cautiously approached, jerking to a stop when his foot almost slipped off the edge of a sheer drop. His heart plummeted straight down to his boots.

“They must have fallen down.”

The cliff was steep, but Time managed to find his way down to a sizeable ledge. The aftermath of a battle was strewn everywhere. They must not have been the only ones who had fallen. Warriors followed close behind, dropping down next to him.

By the time Time found them their bodies were still warm.

He fell to his knees, desperately checking for any sign of life. He was too late. Too slow. He—

From behind him, Warriors came to a sudden stop. A horrible keening sound escaped him, one that would haunt Time for the rest of his days. He stumbled to his side and drew the two younger boys into his arms. Time forced himself to his feet and stepped back. Almost on instinct, his hand reached down and clasped his ocarina. He could still fix this.

“Captain… it’ll be okay.”

Warriors looked up at him, distraught. Even after a whole war of losing people, the grief of death was something nobody could ever get used to. Not even the captain. “How can you say that? This- This isn’t okay.”

Time smiled at him sadly and raised the ocarina to his lips.

The song was one he knew all too well. The rhythm of time slowed to a stop, then started reversing. Time went as far back as he could, before ending the song and breaking into a run. He knew where they were now. He could get to them in time.

The ledge they’d fallen down to was hard to see from up top in the predawn darkness, but he knew exactly where to go. When had they even fallen? Everything had happened so fast. He climbed down as quickly as he dared. He needed to be faster.

Wild and Wind were surrounded by monsters. Wild was already hunched over, clutching at a red stain on his side that was rapidly growing.

Time almost lost his grip when Wind yelled in pain and collapsed. No.

He dropped down and unsheathed his sword, swinging it in a wide arc. The three lizalfos in front of him were cut down before they could even blink, let alone jump out of the way. A large black moblin rounded on him next. He parried its spear and stabbed it straight in the gut. He didn't have time for this.

“Tell me about your island, Sailor,” Wild’s voice, as quiet as it was, seemed to echo in his skull. Those were dying words. But he was so close!

Everything else drowned out but the sword in his hands and the words in his ears.

“It’s beautiful,” Wind whispered. “There’s a fairy fountain at the top… top of the mountain, y’know. And a bridge… bridge’s broken, though. And my sister… and grandma….”

Another moblin.

“Champion?”

Two bokoblins.

“I’m here, kid.”

“Not a kid,” Wind rasped. The fire in his voice was fading fast. They were running out of time.

Only a lowly bokoblin was left, standing between him and his fallen brothers. Time glowered at it, leveling his sword.

Nothing was going to stand between him and his brothers. He swore to Hylia that he wouldn’t let this be the end for them.

The bokoblin charged. A fatal mistake. Time easily deflected its blow with his sword, twisting around to stab it in the back.

The last monster fell. Time sank to his knees at his boys’ side again, heaving a sigh of relief. He reached into his pouch with trembling fingers, grabbing the first bottle he could find and pulling it out. The fairy flew out without delay and circled around the two boys. Their wounds disappeared. Like none of it had ever even happened.

Wild sat up, a smile already on his face. “Hey, old man.”

Wind was still clutched in his arms, blinking up at them both. Then he smiled, too. “Took ya long enough.”

Time closed his eye, just for a moment. They were okay.

He didn’t really have the time, but he couldn’t stop himself from clapping a firm hand on both their shoulders, checking them both over with his eye for any lingering injuries before getting up from where he was crouched in front of them. Sounds of clanging swords and frustrated shouts came from overhead where the others were, and Time knew he had to get himself and the boys up there to help as soon as possible.

Wild was easiest to help back up over the ledge. The kid was terrifyingly gifted at scaling up cliffs, and only needed a bit of a boost from Time to help him get up there faster than he could have on his own. The second the champion completely disappeared over the edge and back onto the cliff top, Time turned to Wind, locking his fingers together to provide a hopefully steady foot hold.

“Ready, kid?”

Wind nodded sharply, a determined look on his face, before placing his small boot in Time’s hand and reaching up towards where Wild’s hand was extended down for him to grab. Time helped shove him up as far as he could, supporting the little pirate’s weight as much as he was able to until Wild got a firm enough grip to haul him back to safety.

Unfortunately for Time, there was no way the two younger heroes would be able to pull him up as well. The ledge was high enough that he couldn’t get a firm grip by jumping for it, not that he wanted to risk falling to his death should he lose his footing, and it was too dark to properly see how much space he had.

Warriors’s face poked over the edge, giving him a familiar crooked grin.

“Well you’ve gotten yourself rather stuck, Sprite,” his brother teased, and Time couldn’t help but instinctively cross his arms over his chest and glare up at the captain in defiance at the tone in his voice. It wasn’t his fault he’d gotten trapped down here, he was saving Wind and Wild’s lives!

The image of their bodies flashed across his mind and his expression dropped as he felt his breath catch in his chest.

He forced himself to shake his head to free himself from the sight of a fate that no longer existed.

Warriors’s hand reached down just low enough for Time to grab when he ran and jumped for it, and there was a moment when his hand clasped around his brother’s where he was terrified his weight would drag them both down over the edge, but a second pair of hands reached down and grabbed his forearm, helping the captain pull him up.

Time allowed himself five seconds to pant in the grass on his back before forcing himself to sit up, giving Sky a grateful nod for helping him before taking Warriors’s offered hand and letting his brother drag him to his feet. He looked around for Wind and Wild, squinting to make out their shapes in the dark, and spotted them with swords raised, helping Legend fight off a large group of Lizalfos. They were moving okay, they were breathing, they were fine.

He saved them, and now he had to help the others finish this battle.

They could do it, they’d done it a hundred times already. There was nothing even special about this group of monsters, they were all going to be just fine.

He hated that he hadn’t been able to go back far enough to give them enough time to put their armor on before the battle started. Time couldn’t help the surge of anxiety that blossomed when he felt Warriors’s spine press into his back when the captain’s shoulders met his, unprotected from his usual amount of armor. His brother was too vulnerable like this, they were all too vulnerable like this.

The captain groaned when Time’s shoulder slid against his.

“You okay?” He asked quickly, shifting so he wasn’t leaning too much on his brother. Warriors’s shoulder had been dislocated earlier in the day during the previous battle, and while he’d had a red potion or two shoved down his throat, Time had no doubt it was probably still sore.

“No, I’m not okay,” the captain whined, and he didn’t have to be facing him for Time to know with certainty there was a pout on Warriors’s face. “Can a man not sleep for more than five minutes without having something happen to him?? Hylia!!”

“What has the world come to?” Time sighed, overdoing it a little on the sadness he forced into his voice.

Warriors pushed against his back roughly in retaliation, grumbling something under his breath that he couldn’t hear.

They worked together to beat back the monsters that had surrounded them, and Time tried to focus on his brother behind him instead of letting his mind drift back to Wind and Wild’s bodies. Each bokoblin he cut down made him feel further and further from what he’d just seen, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of shock he’d felt.

Life was a very fragile thing. None of them were going to live forever, but those two were just kids. This was not their place to die.

“We’re so fucked, why are there so many of them??” Warriors sighed, and Time couldn’t find his voice to agree with him. Not after what he just saw. Not after what he’d erased. He refused to believe they were ‘fucked’.

He had a second chance, he wasn’t going to let anyone die, not this time. He’d already healed Wind and Wild, he just needed to keep an eye on them and all the others and they’d pull through as they always did.

Something swooped down towards their heads that Time couldn’t quite make out in the dark, and while he’d managed to duck out of its path, the thing hit Warriors square in the face.

“What the fuck!!” The captain screamed. “What was that?!”

“Keese!” Hyrule shouted from somewhere to Time’s left. He couldn’t spare a second to look over at the traveler, he was too busy trying to defend both him and his temporarily stunned brother.

“Why!!”

“Fuck you mean, ‘why’??” Legend yelled.

Time swatted at the damned keese with his shield when it swooped down at his head again.

“Just be glad you didn’t get hit by a swarm of them!” Hyrule laughed. “That one must not be from this era, my keese never travel alone!”

It took Warriors an embarrassing number of tries to cut it down, and by the time he had, Time had mostly cleared out the bokoblins around them. He took a moment to breathe and try to spot Wind and Wild in all the chaos.

“Look out!” Twilight screamed, and Time ducked, shoving Warriors out of the way as well when an axe went flying overhead, glinting in the light of the moon. Thankfully it embedded itself in a nearby tree as opposed to any of the boys.

“Thanks, goat boy!” The captain called back, brushing himself off as he got up, holding out a hand to help up Time.

He missed the concerned look Warriors gave him as he steadied Time on his feet, he was too busy looking around the clearing, counting seven hylian heads still up and moving. Once sure everyone was safe he couldn’t help but feel anger towards himself for being so distracted that he’d almost allowed himself and Warriors to get hit by a flying axe.

“Hey, everything okay?” His brother asked, kicking a bokoblin he didn’t recognize down when it waddled a little too close, bringing his sword straight down into it and ending the little creature. “You didn’t hit your head on the way down to get Wind and Wild, did you?”

Time didn’t have a chance to open his mouth before Warriors grabbed his chin and started moving his face around to check for cuts or marks where he might have been hit.

He swatted away the captain’s hands, ignoring the way Warriors raised an eyebrow at him and narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

“No, I’m fine,” he told him, and he meant it. He was fine, so were Wild and Wind, and so were all the others. He just had to get out of his own head and focus, this was no time or place for mistakes.

“Are you sure?” Warriors questioned, because of course he wouldn’t just drop it. “You seem really distracted and a bit out of it.”

“I’m fine,” Time repeated with an annoyed huff. He could argue with his brother later, right now he had to focus on killing monsters.

He got lucky when a lizalfos jumped down on the other side of the captain, freeing him from whatever lecture on hiding injuries Warriors was no doubt prepping to give him. It didn’t take long to deal with the monster, and in all the chaos it was quite easy for Time to slip away to another side of the clearing.

He headed over towards Four, who was singled out by a group of bokoblins. The poor young man was doing his best, but there was no one near him to help at all, and from what Time could see through the darkness, no one else was in immediate need of assistance.

“Oh Hylia, thanks,” Four wheezed when Time was able to take out a huge wave of bokoblins in one swing with his significantly larger sword.

“Any time,” he said quickly, swinging again, this time in a large arc right over Four’s head when the younger hero ducked.

Legend came sprinting past with an enraged cry, chasing after a moblin that kept bouncing out of the way of his swings.

“Fucker!!” He screamed when he missed again.

Time snorted, taking a moment to check on Wind and Wild one more time. They were a terrifying duo, with Wild dancing about and weaving between the monsters, shoving them right into Wind’s sword. Every time they successfully got another one, the pirate let out an evil little cackle, the faint light making his eyes sparkle.

They were fine, and the number of monsters was finally getting smaller as less and less of them swarmed into the clearing.

His mistake had been allowing himself less than a second to believe that they were all going to be fine.

He hadn’t even seen it happen, his back was turned, all he’d heard was a sickening crack followed by Legend’s awful scream. He felt his breath catch in his throat but he couldn’t hear anything besides that awful sound the vet was making and his own pounding heartbeat. He knew what he was going to see when he turned, he knew, and he didn’t want to look, but he couldn’t stop himself. Time whipped around to look at them, so quickly that he felt nauseous, although that might have been because of the angle Four’s neck had been twisted at, or the way his lifeless eyes were still staring up at the sky, or the horrible way his dead body was sprawled in the grass.

Time didn’t waste a second, he couldn’t bear the sight of one of his dead brothers a second longer. With trembling hands he brought the ocarina to his lips and began to play as warm tears ran down his face.

READ THE REST ON AO3!!! :)

#lu time #lu warriors #lu twilight #lu wild #lu wind #lu four #lu sky #lu legend #lu hyrule #lu chain #linked universe fanfiction #LU fanfiction #linked universe #LU #it was an honor to write this with you Jes 🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡 #may we commit many more crimes together in the future :3

[rileyglas]

The List ~Pt. 12 - Conviction~

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Reader

Summary: As you train for Extermination Day, your power intensifies, granting you visions of a dark future. Determined to save those you love, you battle through the Exorcists, facing relentless challenges. Things take a turn mid battle, leading to an unexpected twist of fate.

Themes: The usual angst, mystery, sassiness, cursing, fluff, actual plot, slow burn, Rosie is the sweetest, eventual smut, and of course 18+

4.2k Words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5  Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.A Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 (You're on it!)

**sentences in italics are internal thoughts of the reader

When Alastor said you needed to train together, you weren’t entirely sure what he meant. You half expected to just practice fighting each other but the reality was more exhausting. You both felt your abilities expanding, yet you’ve been struggling more than anticipated. It is one thing having to adjust from small needles to heftier daggers, but the focus it takes to stop objects is an entirely different challenge. When you did it at V Tower it was in the heat of the moment, you didn’t have the time to think about it. Now you’ve spent almost three days trying to hone in the new ability with no luck. 

After multiple failures Alastor suggests to up the stakes. “Maybe you need to feel threatened in order to channel the power?” he teases half joking, half serious. Vaggie overhears this and is quick to volunteer, throwing her spear directly at your chest from across the lawn. You reach your hand out but nothing happens. Oh shit. A dark shield surrounds you, making the weapon bounce off and clatter to the ground. You snap your head to Alastor to see his cane omitting green sparks, “How did you do that?!” 

He shrugs, “Quite an interesting development, I suppose.” Charlie runs over excitedly, “If you’re able to cast that over the hotel, it could buy us needed time and protection! What do you think?” The two start to scheme how and when the shield could help against the Exorcists. Within a few tries, he effortlessly produces one large enough to surround the hotel. Feeling utterly defeated, you huff in frustration. I need to focus, I’m no use dead. Why is this so difficult NOW? 

“Must I be the one near death in order for you to do this, dear?” You feel Alastor’s hot breath suddenly breeze across your neck. You scoff and shake your head, “Apparently!” Vaggie enthusiastically picks up her spear again, more than eager to throw it at Alastor but you’re quick to shut her down, “Don’t even think about it! I do not wish to test that theory!!” She pouts and walks away disappointed.

Finally you’re able to get away from the madness. You plop onto the couch in the foyer, leaning your head against the backrest. I just need a few minutes to rest my eyes. The instant your eyes close, you feel your mind slip away from exhaustion. 

Golden blood rains on top of you. Angels, if you can even call them that, fall left and right. Screams of battle fill the air. It seems as though all the training and planning with the rest of the hotel and cannibals is actually working. “Eat shrapnel fuckers!!!” Cherry Bomb releases her grenades into a group of Exorcists. You toss a few angelic steel daggers to finish off a few she missed. “Fuck yeah! Keep it going girl!” she yells over her shoulder. Nifty runs around stabbing the already fallen angels while also collecting your weapons. Carmilla managed to get you a small handful but it was plenty so long as Nifty could return them to you quickly. She hands over the bundle manically laughing, “Stab, Stab, STAB!!!”

Looking up, you see Alastor battling Adam atop the roof. His shadow demons swarm the Exorcist leader making him curse and lose focus. There you go, keep a distance and you’ve got him Al. A smile creeps across your face, amazed by how well Charlie’s plan is working. 

You pivot your focus to a few cannibals in need of healing. The amount of energy it takes to heal so many injuries back to back is draining but not impossible, especially with Alastor close by. As you finish mending a wound on Rosie’s shoulder, a pang hits your chest. 

The neon sign above the hotel flickers as Alastor’s tentacles flail and throw Adam around. A voice thunders overhead, “- Radio is fuckin’ dead!” Adam swings his guitar, slashing Alastor nearly in two. You watch his lifeless body flip over the roof railing and plummet to the ground. 

Any power or sense you usually have of Alastor disappears completely. You stumble over to him, violently heaving from the sickness settling in your stomach, but it’s too late. Even as you cradle his body, kissing him, begging him to wake up, it’s all in vain. This can’t be it. This wasn’t supposed to happen…You hear screams echoing around you. It takes a moment for you to realize it’s your voice filling the air. 

“Hey Toots - Toots! Stop yelling! Come on, snap out of it!” You open your eyes to a very concerned Angel trying to shake you awake. “Kid, you alright?” Husk rests a hand on your shoulder. Your brain catches up and brings you back to the present, regrounding yourself in the lobby of the hotel. You shake your head trying to answer, voice hoarse, “Al - where -” 

“What is going on? Is someone hurt?” Alastor paces through the lobby having heard the commotion. His smile falters seeing the disheveled state you’re in. He rushes to you, unintentionally (or probably intentionally) shoving aside Husk with his cane. He drops to his knees to grab your face, “What is it? What happened?” his voice wavers in a mix of worry and anger. 

You throw your arms around him, making him grunt from how tight your grip is, “Nothing. Just - Just a nightmare.” you whisper into his neck. But was it really a nightmare? Everything was so vivid and clear. It was as surreal as when you dreamt of your life on Earth. It felt real. You let go to sit back on the couch, taking both his hands, “I think the stress and exhaustion is getting to me. Nothing a good night's rest won’t fix.” He nods but his eyes reflect doubt. He knows you all too well by now.

“Really, I’m fine. Let’s get back to training.” You attempt to put on a more confident voice for everyone. Angel and Husk walk away to the bar, mumbling something about the possibility of cracking under pressure. You know it’s far from the truth. You spent years on Earth preparing, training, and enduring the battles of war. It wasn’t a foreign feeling, quite the contrary, it was nice to have some familiarity even under these insane circumstances. But this dream truly felt different. 

Alastor insisted you go to bed early and you happily complied. As soon as your head hits the pillow you’re out. However, the “dream” returns, exactly as before. The raining of blood, Cherry Bomb, Rosie’s injury, and then -

“My dear I’m right here, what’s going on?” he wraps his body around you, pulling you out of your nightmare. Your throat strains once again. A cold sweat covers your body but your blood feels like wildfire. You sit up and brush back your hair, “I - I don’t think this is just a dream anymore Al. This entire time we’ve been training, trying to grow our power together and I think…maybe mine has evolved into seeing flashes of what’s to come. Is that possible?” your chest heaves trying to regain some composure.

He ponders for a moment, “Well it is entirely possible I’d say. The question is, do you receive the visions to change the future or is it foreshadowing the inevitable -” “Don’t say that.” you cut him off sharply. He recoils at your sudden aggression, then softens when he notices your eyes beginning to well up. With a deep sigh, he places a kiss on your temple, “You’re dreaming about Extermination Day, aren’t you?” You remain silent, unable to find the right words without crying. The back of his hand gently brushes your cheek, “You can tell me, my love. It can only help for me to have some insight.” 

Fighting through tears, you tell him every detail of what you’ve been seeing. There had to be a reason you were given the vision, you refuse to believe otherwise. After explaining the dream you begin to ramble, “You can’t fight Adam. He’s too strong. Let me do it or maybe I can join you or maybe we can get Lucifer -” He shakes his head, shushing you, “No - no, the plans have already been put in place. You need to be on the ground to assist the others. Besides, we both know Lucifer will only step in if Charlie is in danger. You’ve given me enough to predict how Adam will fight. I can use that to my advantage and have the upper hand on him. Things will be different.”

You rest against his chest, entwining your fingers with his, “I’ll hold you to that.” you mutter under your breath. He brings the back of your hand to his lips, “Get some rest. We have two days to gather our strength. Should - or rather when - we get through this, we still have the deal with Lucifer to handle.” You nod. The pit in your stomach weighs heavily at the thought that there is still another battle awaiting at the end of all of this, but you try to shake off the feeling, knowing your mind needs to stay clear for the sake of the hotel and your friends. Rule #3 K̵e̷e̴p̴ ̷t̸h̴o̴s̷e̵ ̷y̶o̴u̵ ̶l̴o̷v̶e̴ ̸c̶l̴o̷s̴e̷

In the blink of an eye it was already the eve of Extermination Day. Charlie delivered a more than fitting speech, giving everyone a glimmer of hope. How this charming, sweet, hopeful woman was the daughter of someone like Lucifer, you didn’t know. Maybe it was the fall that jaded him? Maybe the loss of Lilith pushed him over the edge? All you knew is that she radiated a warmth that everyone could feel, even Alastor. 

“Ah, the celebratory night before a courageous last stand. It's been a surprising thrill to witness these wayward souls find connection. Almost makes one sentimental, eh, Niffty?" you overhear him from the balcony as you sit at the bar with the other hotel members. Angel grabs your attention with a few pokes to your side, “So, are ya really an Overlord? I thought that line o’ work required you to be a ruthless asshole.”

You take a swig of whiskey and chuckle, “Even in Hell, kindness can get you far, so long as you put your trust in the right people.” A scoff comes from across the bar, “Interesting take considering your choice in men.” Husk grumbles, cocking an eyebrow at you then up to Alastor. You slide your now empty glass over to him as a silent refill request. 

“Last I checked that man and I are the only two saving graces you all have for tomorrow. I know you aren’t friends, but maybe show some appreciation towards his willingness to help. I don’t see Lucifer jumping in on the front line.” You bite harsher than intended. There is a part of you that harbored pity for Husk. Going from a prestigious Overlord to nothing but a pet had to come with its share of personal demons. You try not to take his bitterness to heart.  He growls as he slides back a filled glass, “I had a feeling there was more to you than you let on. Al wouldn’t take an interest in just anyone.” “Oh I think he has more than just interest in our friend here. Heard her screaming his name from down the hall yesterday!” Angel jeers but the grimace on your face erases his smile. You stare vacantly into your glass remembering the night before, the blood, the screams, Alastor’s limp, lifeless body. “Hey dollface lighten up! I’m just giving yous a hard time. What ya do in the bedroom is -” “That’s not the reason I was screaming last night.” you say abruptly. Husk and Angel share a brief look of concern. “I’ve been having nightmares about tomorrow. Every single one ends the same and every time I wake up yelling out for him.” you throw back your drink and slam it against the bar. They continue to stare, speechless, while you stand to shimmy on your jacket. “We will make it through tomorrow, I promise.” Rule #2 D̷o̸n̷’̷t̵ ̴b̸e̶ ̸a̸f̴r̸a̶i̴d̵ ̶t̵o̶ ̸s̷h̶o̵w̸ ̴y̸o̶u̷r̴ ̴p̵o̴w̵e̵r̶ With a grim smile you walk out of the lobby, needing a walk and some fresh air. 

You only make it a few steps from the door when a voice calls out to you. Turning, you see Rosie sitting on a bench out front. Though you’d never formally met the woman you recognize her immediately from the Overlord meetings. She waves you over and motions for you to take a seat, “Ya know when Alastor came to me saying he fancied someone, I knew they had to be something quite special. He didn’t mention, however, what an absolute gem you are!” You share a bashful giggle. Alastor has talked about Rosie a few times in the past, always alluding to her being one of his closest friends since arriving in Hell.

“Thank you Miss Rosie. I’ve heard nothing but good things about you. We all truly appreciate your assistance with the cannibals. Will you be joining us tomorrow?” You make conversational pleasantries, as if you didn’t already know the answer. “Oh, of course! Though I might be more on the sidelines. The townspeople can get pretty rambunctious when given free reign.” Her sweet demeanor radiates much like Charlie’s. Even with the darkest thoughts spiraling behind your eyes, you can’t help but smile hearing her enthusiasm. 

A question pops into your mind. If anyone knows Alastor and his past, it’s Rosie. You look around to ensure no other ears are around, dropping your voice so it doesn’t carry, “Miss Rosie may I ask an unusual question? It’s regarding Alastor.” 

Her black eyes widen with curiosity, “Well of course darlin’. Anything at all! What’s on your mind?” You take a deep breath and focus nervously on your hands resting in your lap. “I know about his deal and I know about Lilith. Did he ever…have any feelings towards her? Or rather made her think he did in an attempt to sway her in some way?” As soon as the question leaves your mouth, a twist of regret and embarrassment sets in. Here you are, the night before possibly losing the most important people in your (after)life, and you’re asking mundane things like this. I’m so stupid…

“Oh my -” she sits back, taken off guard by such an inquisition. There’s a tense silence for a few moments which only makes your heart sink deeper in anticipation. A small smile returns to her face after having collected her thoughts, “Alastor has done a lot to get to where he is today. You’re aware of that I’m sure. When he spoke of Lilith and his plans, there was always something more sinister behind that smile of his. He only became truly passionate when he mentioned the power he would obtain and the possibility of being more than just an Overlord.” 

She sets a light hand on your shoulder. You turn to meet her gaze and her voice softens, “But in all my years of knowing Alastor, I’ve never seen him so smitten when talking about someone. I see how his eyes follow you around here. He holds the look of a man willing to set both Heaven and Hell ablaze for you. Does that help answer your question?” 

A warmth builds in your chest, you smile and nod through a few tears of happiness, “I think it does. Thank you.” Rule #1 B̶e̸ ̷o̵p̶e̶n̶ ̶t̷o̶ ̷t̴r̸u̸s̸t̵,̶ ̷b̸u̵t̴ ̶n̵e̵v̷e̸r̷ ̷d̶o̵ ̶s̴o̷ ̴b̶l̷i̴n̵d̴l̷y̶ You pat her hand still atop your shoulder. She takes your hand, fiddling with the few rings you have on, “You share something so special with him. I can’t wait to see what the future holds for you two.” She glances behind you and lights up, “Speak of the handsome demon - Alastor, dearie, how are you this evening!?” she waves at him while you try to brush away the tears without him noticing. “Ah, marvelous as always, my dear. I see you’ve already acquainted yourself with my darling other half?” his smile widens as he sets a possessive hand to your back.“Yes and she is just a doll! It’s almost unbelievable such a gal would become entangled with the likes of you!” Rosie teases playfully. She pats your arm and stands, “Such a pleasure to finally meet you, but it is getting late. I’m off to rest up for tomorrow. Have a wonderful evening you two.” She gives a quick kiss to Alastor's cheek, mumbling something to him before gliding gracefully into the hotel. Alastor slides in beside you on the bench, crossing his legs and wrapping an arm around you. “Good company is never hard to find with Rosie.” he sighs contently, “How are you feeling, dear?” You snuggle closer and lean your head against his chest, “As good as I can I suppose.” He hums agreeingly. A comfortable silence falls between you. The closer he is, the more at ease you always feel. In the quiet of the evening an idea stirs. 

“I’ve been thinking Al…I know your contract limits your power. Maybe for the sake of tomorrow, we can try to break it before the fight?” His fingers tighten against your skin, “Absolutely not.” he answers sternly. You pull away, surprised by the brunt response, “But - it could be just what we need to -” He raises a hand and cuts you off, “I said no. We don’t know what predicaments that can cause.” A small pout makes your lip quiver. I only want what’s best for him. If it would help, I’d be more than willing to take that chance. His finger hooks under your chin to pull you closer, “I appreciate your sentiments dear but you will need to trust me on this. Everything will be handled in due time.” he whispers above your lips before closing the space. 

What starts as a soft peck swells into something more passionate. His hands smooth down to your waist and he presses into you hungrily. You return his intensity, threading your fingers through his hair. After a few moments you break away, breathless, “Don’t do that.” “Do what?” he pants through a smug smile. Your finger glides across his lower lip as your eyes burn into his, “Don’t kiss me as if it’s our last.” His toothy grin spreads under half-lidded eyes, “Of course it’s not! Though after tomorrow, I hope you know we will not be leaving our room for a few days. The heat of battle just might awaken something more between us.” he growls into your ear while his fingers tease the hem of your shirt. You giggle and push him away, “Let’s just try to get through the next twenty-four hours, shall we?” 

He chuckles, offering his hand, “As you wish. Off to bed then?” You take his hand and within a second you’re back in your room. Only a few hours of rest before battle, something that felt all too familiar. Your entire future in Hell relies on what happens tomorrow. You try to hold onto any bit of sheer hope as you relax against Alastor’s chest and drift off. Rule #4 T��u̵r̷n̸ ̸y̵o̶u̵r̴ ̶w̵e̴a̶k̸n̸e̶s̶s̶ ̴i̷n̶t̷o̶ ̴s̴t̵r̵e̴n̵g̸t̷h̵

Everyone stands outside the hotel, weapons in hand. As Heaven opens up, Alastor’s shield forms around the perimeter. Only a few Exorcists make it through and they’re easily disposed of. “It’s working!” Charlie exclaims excitedly. 

Just when you think the last of the Exorcists are dealt with, Adam’s fist shatters the entirety of the shield. Shit - ready or not Al, here he comes. You continue to fight alongside the others, using your daggers in between healing some of the more vulnerable cannibals. Then it begins. 

Golden blood begins to drop from the sky. Cherry Bomb. Nifty. Your chest pounds reliving the very nightmare you’ve watched unfold multiple times. A shout of pain brings you out of your horror filled haze. You watch an Exorcist throw a spear into Rosie, luckily only hitting her shoulder. You swiftly toss a few daggers to drop the Angel and grab ahold of the Cannibal Overlord. 

“Miss Rosie, I got you.” You press a kiss to her hand, flinching slightly from the pain radiating through your shoulder. Her expression is both shocked and impressed, “Handy little thing aren’t ya? Thank you, dear!” She lovingly pats your face then begins tearing apart the Angel on the ground. 

The flickering of the neon above you makes your heart drop. You freeze, watching the battle on the roof. All the air leaves your lungs as Adam swings, only instead of hitting Alastor, you hear a metallic snap followed by a wail of pain. Fuck fuck fuck I need to get to him. As you rush towards the building a black shadow slides up your legs, holding you in place. “No! Let me go!” you scream to the ground.

An eerie silence falls over the battlefield. Charlie runs over and clings to you, “Please…it’s Pentious…tell me you can do something!?” She starts to sob into your shoulder, “Please…Adam zapped him and the Egg Bois…” she whimpers. You look around but don’t see them anywhere, “Charlie, I’m sorry. I can only heal what I can see and touch…I - I can’t bring back the dead…”

She screams out, transforming into her demon form and taking off on Razzle towards Adam. You remain held down by Alastor’s shadows. “Take me to him now!” you beg the shadow attached to your legs. Your pleas go ignored. Enraged, your hand begins to glow, “GET OFF!” you scream as your power pushes the shadowy fingers off your legs. Finally free, you continue towards the hotel. Before you hit the door a large blast rips through the center of the building, making the walls crumble around you. The shadows once again flood around your feet but this time the world around you fades out. Your body swims through darkness. In the past you’ve always been sent straight to another location. This time, however, he holds you within the shadows. 

After who knows how long, the world begins to fade in again. The demolished remains of Alastor’s tower surround you, clouded by dust and smoke. Being held in the shadow state for so long felt like being on a ship in a storm. You stumble to your knees trying to regain your balance. “Alastor?” You call out, coughing from the thick air. 

Pained grunts can be heard to your right. You stagger over and find Alastor sitting up against a broken beam. Blood gushes from a wound across his chest, “Damnit…” You mumble, straddling his legs to get a better look at the gash and keep him still. “Don’t!” He snaps as your hands run across his chest. 

You sit back on your heels with a puzzled look, “Don’t what? Heal you? Are you stupid? You’re going to bleed out!” You place your hands on his shoulders, pinning him in place, “Hold still, I can -” “I said don’t!” he shoves your body to the side and shuffles away from your reach. You freeze watching the blood continue to drip down his body. “I should have had him. He was weak!” he huffs angrily through the pain. “At least if this kills me, we won’t have to worry about Lucifer’s deal.” 

“Not funny.” you whisper, slowly crawling back towards him. He holds a hand out in protest, “You’re already weakened from healing the others. I don’t want to risk what this could do to you!” you ignore his resistance and continue to climb over him. Your legs cage him in and your hands gently press his body to the floor by his shoulders. His eyes flicker between red and black as he pants under you. 

“Please, my love, this is not your pain to bear. You’re not strong enough. Not after everything -” he pleads weakly through a raspy voice. His eyes begin to glaze over and his smile fades. You cup his cheek, grinning through teary eyes, “There was only ever one choice when it came to the deal with Lucifer. I love you, and I’d die a thousand times more if it meant saving you.” 

Before he can respond, your lips crash into his. He captures your screams of pain with his mouth. You feel his arms wrap around your writhing body as a hot white fire burns across every fiber of your being. You peek through blurred vision long enough to see a single teardrop fall from his eyes. 

He breaks the embrace and sits up to cradle you, “You stupid, stubborn, beautiful woman…” he coos while brushing the hair away from your sweat soaked face. You spasm in his arms, the fire still tearing through you, gasping for any air your lungs can contain. Your eyes start to roll back and he shakes you gently to keep you awake, voice wavering, “No, you don’t get to leave me now. There’s too much we still need to do.” 

Through the blinding pain, you feel him slip something onto your finger. He leans down and kisses your forehead. “I choose to never live without you.” He breathes against your skin. You can almost make out a bright glow of pink and green growing around you before your vision fades and your body goes limp in his arms. 

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[rosecolorednerd]

Stolas Kin Breaks Down Full Moon

Just to preface this: I think Stolas and Blitzø are both in some part at fault for how badly their talk went.

That being said I wanted to break down the episode from my perspective and defend Stolas a bit because I’ve seen people blame him for his reaction to what Blitzø said.

This is a conversation Stolas has dreaded and been dreading because of how much he feels for Blitzø. He is so incredibly anxious because of his fear that Blitzø doesn’t want to be with him and only wants him for the book and for s*x.

He throws up because he’s anxious. “My beak is grinding” teeth grinding is a sign of stress and I would know because I’ve done both of these things.

“My beak is grinding neverminding I swore I wouldn’t dwell on the divorce” Stolas was already comparing this situation to his marriage with Stella. He feels incredibly alone, and he feels like he isn’t enough for Blitzø.

Stolas doesn’t have his anti-depressants. I’m not a doctor but I do know if you skip taking medication it can lead to side effects and one of those being anxiety.

As I mentioned: Stolas is stuck between these two extremes.

“I’m going to fucking die alone if this goes bad” that fear is very clear in Stolas’ mind. Either Blitzø is going to stay or go.

He thinks he is a monster for keeping Blitzø in this arrangement for so long. He wants to believe and trust that Blitzø wants to be with him.

This is where Stolas makes his mistake. He doesn’t ask Blitzø if he feels trapped by their arrangement, and he doesn’t warn him ahead of time that he wants things to change.

Stolas was very forward with how he felt about Blitzø in regards to the deal, but in terms of changing it he keeps Blitzø in the dark. This makes Blitzø very confused but I’ll talk about him in a separate post

Stolas is VERY vulnerable here. He is giving everything he has left to Blitzø only for him to mock him and say it’s a joke.

From Stolas’ perspective all he hears is the negative because he hadn’t considered a third option. He prepared himself for acceptance and rejection but not Blitzø’s confrontation.

I assume this isn’t a side Blitzø would show Stolas regularly because Blitzø hates being vunerable. Sure Blitzø pokes fun at him but they’ve always teased each other it’s part of their dynamic.

But when Stolas is being yelled at he just hears what a monster Blitzø sees him as and that Stella was looming in the back of his mind anyway

So yeah that’s my take on Stolas I’ll have a part 2 about Blitzø up soon bc I like taking about this show

#full moon #full moon breakdown #helluva boss #helluva blitzo #helluva stolas #stolas goetia #stolas #Stolas breakdown #character study #stolitz #stolas kin

[urfavstonr1]

Unsweetened Lemonade

Series- Delicious In Dungeon

Pairings- Chilchuck Tims/reader

Word Count- 3670

Content Warnings- Trauma, loss of a child, kissing?

“This is where the red dragon has been prowling apparently.” Marcille states, looking around the crumbling city of level 5.

“Do we have a plan to take this thing down?” (Y/N) asks, looking around the city walls, observing their surroundings and hoping to come up with any ideas.

Walking further into the city the party spots an arch, “If we lure the dragon through there, Marcille can use her magic to explode the arch and take down the dragon long enough to kill it.” Laius speaks his thoughts.

“Well, let’s set up camp and get prepared for this then.” (Y/N) nods to her words and looks around to the party for their thoughts, all in agreement. Finding a place to set up, (Y/N) lights a fire and gets to helping Senshi make dinner.

“So (Y/N), what made you become an adventurer?” Marcille asks, looking to the (H/C) bard, “I thought you were training to be a court magician?” “Heh, yeah. That’s always what my mother wanted but… I couldn’t stay there. So here I am, it felt like the best thing I could do with my magic you know?” (Y/N) answers, trying to answer while staying as vague as she could.

“I know how that is.” Marcille smiles at (Y/N), nudging her with her elbow, “I’m sure your husband misses you though.”

(Y/N)’s expression turns sour, “Yeah… I don’t think he does.” she murmurs, looking away from Marcille and back to the task at hand.

Chilchuck’s ear perks at the mention of (Y/N)’s husband, he had assumed she was just a childish bard who came down here for shits and giggles. Was she also running away from something? Shaking the thoughts from his mind he watched over Senshi’s shoulder as he cooked, the delicious aroma flooding the room. He didn't notice how hungry he was till now.

“That smells great Senshi! I can’t wait to eat.” (Y/N) beams at the dwarf, handing him the final ingredients she had prepared. “I’m gonna go fill my water skin, I’ll be back!” She announces to the party before retreating from the room. Walking through the halls to find a water fountain, water spilling from the mouth of a lion and into the basin.

Foot steps behind her made her jump at least a foot into the air, looking over her shoulder to see brown eyes and short chestnut hair she breathes out a sigh of relief, “You scared the shit out of me Chilchuck.”

“You shouldn’t go out by yourself, you don’t know what's out here.” he mutters, positioning himself next to (Y/N) to fill his water skin as well.

“Awe you were worried about me~” (Y/N) teases with a chuckle, “I appreciate it.”

Chilchuck scoffs, “We can’t afford to lose a party member right now, not with the fight that’s coming up..”

(Y/N) rolls her eyes with a smile, “I’ll be fine, I survived by myself to the third level. It’s you I’m worried about.”

His ears burn red with a blush, trying not to look at the mage beside him, “And why is that?”

“You said it yourself that you don’t fight, I just don’t want anything to happen to you.” (Y/N) explains, trying to conceal her own blush as they brush shoulders.

“Just worry about yourself.” He pulls his full waterskin from the basin and seals it. Over the past week the two had somehow ended up awake together during night watch, (Y/N) trying to run from her dreams and Chilchuck finding himself unable to sleep until she would begin practicing on her guitar. Each melody lulling him to sleep as if he never had issues falling asleep.

“Why do you crochet all this stuff, it feels unnecessary.” Chilchuck had asked one night, watching (Y/N) thread the yarn together into another scarf.

“I like to leave these to dead adventurers, they may not know who left them or why but seeing those same people wear them when they are resurrected makes me feel good.” (Y/N) explains, her expression warm with care as she made each stitch.

“Huh..” Chilchuck utters, his eyes flashing from her warm smile back down to the scarf.

“I worry cause I don’t know what I’d do without our nightly chats, I think it’d drive me crazy.” (Y/N) laughs, pulling her own waterskin from the basin, “Let's get back to the party, I’m sure dinner is done and I’m starving.”

Little did she know her words seemed to strike a cord in Chilchucks heart, turning his cheeks red just listening to her laugh, “Yeah.”

(Y/N) tried her hardest not to notice the way her heart beat around him, shaking her head of thoughts of him, his life outside of the dungeon, and the blooming friendship she found herself. Or the blooming feelings she had for him.

Returning to the party they were met with their servings of dinner, and so gratefully did (Y/N) accept hers, always eager and excited to try Senshi’s new dish. Moaning at the taste of tonight's dinner, “This is absolutely amazing!” she said between bites. Scarfing down the meal she couldn’t get enough of.

Each sensual moan from (Y/N) sent a shock down Chilchucks spine, distracting him from his own meal.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” Senshi mused, smiling at the (H/C) haired bard who smiled back, her chubby cheeks stuffed with food like a hamster. “Anything to help get a youngin like yourself the proper nutrients for a growing body.”

Her expression soured as she swallowed the food in her mouth, “I’m not a kid!” she fumed, letting out an exasperated groan.

“Just how old are you now?” Marcille asked, trying to remember how old she was during their time at school together.

“I’ll be 28 next month, I feel like you should know this.” (Y/N) sighs with irritation.

“You really are just a kid.” Chilchuck laughs, “For an elf I thought you’d be older.”

“Well I’m not, and I’m not a full elf either, thought you’d pick up on that already.” (Y/N) rolls her eyes, finishing her food and leaning back on her hands.

“You’re not?” Laius ask confused, “I thought you were short for an elf but I figured it was an age thing.”

“Ugh, no. I’m half half-foot. I reached maturity at 14 like any other half-foot.” (Y/N) explains, looking into the fire as her mind wanders.

“Well you sure act like a child.” Chilchuck mumbles.

“Say that again!” (Y/N) growls, glaring at the lock picker beside her.

“I’m just saying, an adult wouldn’t throw a temper tantrum over having to cross a lake.” Chilchuck reiterates, glaring back at (Y/N).

“Oh so adults aren’t allowed to be scared? Senshi literally threw a fit over having water walking cast on him!” (Y/N) nearly yelled, sitting up straight as rage filled her body.

“He’s never experienced magic before! You are a grown adult with an irrational fear of water!” Chilchuck feels his voice turn into a yell as he watches (Y/N) stand and begin to walk away.

“I’m not fucking doing this right now.” (Y/N) growls as she stomps out of the room.

“What did I tell you about leaving on your own!?” He yells after her, scrambling to get off the floor and go after her.

“Fuck you!” (Y/N) yells back, hearing his footsteps behind her, “Can you just leave me alone!?” She turns to glare down at him, only for the half-foot who had run after her to crash into her, knocking them both back onto the ground with a grunt.

(Y/N) groans as she tries to sit back up only to be held down by the weight of Chilchuck who sat silently stunned at their position. In their fall his face had ended right in her boobs, his face a bright red as he tried to think of his next actions. Reaching his hand to stabilize himself only to find his hand on squishy cotton. Wait, squishy cotton? He gave a squeeze only to hear a muffled moan.

He quickly scrambled away from her, panting as he stared at her flushed face with wide eyes. “I-I’m so sorry!” He stutters out. Trying to ignore the growing bulge in his pants. (Y/N) sat in stunned silence, staring back at him in bewilderment. Carefully moving to crawl closer to him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to it was an accident!” Chilchuck blurts out apologizes as she crawls closer.

“Shhh shut up.” She mumbles bringing a hand to his cheek, pulling his face to hers in a slow kiss. His cheeks burned brighter as he closed his eyes, leaning into the kiss that soon became more heated. (Y/N) biting at his bottom lip before pulling away panting, a string of saliva connecting their lips.

When she opened her eyes again she was met with familiar dark brown orbs staring back at her.

“W-what was that for?” Chilchuck panted out, trying to sort out his running thoughts.

“I don’t know! I-“ (Y/N) looked away as she tried to bring back her brain from the fog of lust, “something just. Took over me… I couldn’t help myself..” she speaks quietly only for two hands to grab her cheeks and bring her in for another kiss. (Y/N) moans into the kiss as the kiss deepens, his tongue moving past her lips to meet her own.

A voice echoed through the hall that pulled them back to reality and away from each other.

“Chil? (Y/N)?” Marcilles voice rang through the corridor, “You guys have been gone for a while and we got worried.”

“Yeah we’re fine!” (Y/N) called back to her, her eyes never leaving Chilchucks even as she stood and brushed herself off, offering him a hand to stand. “I tripped but it’s all good.”

Chilchuck took her hand to stand and looked to Marcille, “Just making sure she didn’t hurt herself.”

They walked back to camp without another word, (Y/N) once again took first watch while everyone got ready for bed. As the first hour passed (Y/N) found herself digging through her bag, retrieving a bottle of wine she had been storing. Tonight felt like a good night to finally pop it open. Taking the first sip she let out a laugh as a certain half-foot sat next to her.

“You should be sleeping.” she mused, offering him the bottle which he gratefully drank from.

“And you shouldn’t be drinking but here we are.” Chilchuck chuckled as he handed the bottle back.

(Y/N) took another swig before letting out a sigh, “It felt like a good time to crack it out. Cool my nerves before we have to fight that fucking dragon.”

Chilchuck nods, looking at (Y/N) as she stares at the fire. “Alright, spit it out. What's on your mind.”

“What’s that? Chilchuck tims wanting to hear about my personal life?” She laughs again, looking at him with a smile before shaking her head, “Far too much with far too little time to figure it out.”

“Well… maybe I can help you figure it out.” he felt his cheeks heat up again, looking down to the fire.

“Honestly? My son…” She took a much bigger drink this time, taking the bottle from her lips with a pop.

“How old is he?” His voice was quiet, tenderly trying to navigate the conversation.

(Y/N) shook her head, “He uh. He was a week old.” she passed the bottle back to the half-foot beside her, “His name was Gaelin… my sweet little Gaelin…”

“What happened?” Chilchuck asked, looking back to her now melancholic expression.

She shrugs, “We don’t know… they say he passed in his sleep.” She clears her throat, trying to keep her tears from spilling, “And losing a baby is hard on a marriage, not that he truly loved me anyway.” She gives a laugh. He looked at her confused as he handed the bottle of wine back, “It was arranged by my mother. After my father died and school was finished she was quick to have me married. He was a high standing elf in the court, only touched me to conceive our son.”

“That fucking sucks.” the words spilled from his mouth, earning him a laugh from (Y/N).

“That’s life I suppose. He left, my mother despised me for it, so I ran. Came here to finally put my magic to good use.” She explains, wiping a tear from her cheek while pulling her legs into her chest.

“I’m sorry that happened to you.” Chilchuck hesitantly reaches out to grab her hand, offering her comfort the best he knew how to.

“It’s in the past now, time is an arrow that doesn’t stop for anyone.” (Y/N) smiles at him, squeezing his hand.

The two sat in silence, forgetting the mostly empty bottle of wine. The night drew on as they stared at the fire. Chilchuck opened his mouth to speak before closing it again.

“Can I hear your new song? You still haven’t played for us.” he asks quietly, finally looking to the (H/C) haired mage.

“That song is kinda intense for while the party is sleeping, but I have a lullaby. Maybe it finally put you to sleep.” She laughs, letting go of his hand to dig through her back for her guitar.

As soon as she let go he found himself missing the feeling of her hand in his, what was once warm connection now was cold and lonely, why did she of all people make him feel like this?

Sitting back next to him she began strumming the strings in a soft melody, taking a deep breath before beginning her lullaby, “My sun, my moon, my darling dear,

kind Freya's gift to me.

The disirs dance around you and marvel at your bring.

Hamingja gives you happiness for all the joy you bring,

may Tyr please gift you courage and wisdom Memir brings.

May Loki give you clever wit and Thor to give you strength.

May Odin smile on you and Fenrir at your flank.

As Nott is flying overhead, please wish her a goodnight and let them all watch over you, they gifted you to life."

As she finished she looked up to be met with wide, tired eyes.

“That was amazing…” he mutters, staring at her in amazement as she set her guitar to the side.

(Y/N) smiles, “I sang that song to Gaelin every night… I can't help but wonder what I did wrong to lose him.” She lets out a tsk, glaring down at the floor, “Just another way the gods said fuck you.” picking up the once forgotten bottle and chugging down the rest.

“You did nothing wrong, the first week is always the hardest. Anything could’ve happened.” Chilchuck reassures her, holding out his hand again; he wasn’t great with emotions but he was trying his best. Trying his best for her.

“Thanks Chilchuck..” She took his hand again, sitting closer to him than before.

“Chil. Chilchuck is too formal. Especially now.” he chuckles, feeling her lay her head on his shoulder.

“Thank you Chil… you’re a good friend.” her words were quiet, smiling as he laid his head atop her own. She didn’t know it but those words made his heart flutter and yet hurt at the same time.

“Anytime (Y/N).” he felt his eyes grow heavy as they sat there in silent bliss.

The ground shook, jolting the sleeping party awake. (Y/N) woke with a gasp and shook her sleeping partner awake.

“The dragon..” Laius scrambled out of his sleeping bag as he spoke.

“Fuck…“ (Y/N) sucks in a breath through her teeth as she tries to assemble herself for the upcoming battle.

The party hurriedly got to the positions for the fight, (Y/N) bracing herself with her guitar and dagger, hiding to the side waiting for the dragon to arrive. As the steps got closer the party tensed, feeling the vibrations through the ground, rumbling them to their bones.

Before she could think she heard the explosion of Marcille’s magic, taking down the archway and bringing the dragon down with it, peeking over the rock she had hid herself behind to find the dragon buried under the rubble. Breathing a sigh of relief until it got caught in her throat.

The dragon pulled itself up from the crash and let out a blood curdling roar, aiming its fiery breath at the blondemage above it.

“Shit shit shit!” (Y/N) was running into the pathway before she could realize where her legs were carrying her, aggressively strumming the strings of her guitar, channeling all of her mana into her voice and guitar as she began to sing, hoping to distract the dragon and take it down.

“I’ve got a river running right into you

Ive got a blood trail, red in the blue

Something you say or something you do

A taste of the devine

Youve my body flesh bone

Yeah

The sky above me

Earth below

Raise up again

Take me past the edge

I want to see the other side!”

Her efforts were fruitless, while yes distracting the dragon its anger now turned to her, her spell had no effect on the beast. Taking in one more breath to let out a scream, trying her damnedest to bring down the dragon like she once did with the kelpie.

As fire rained down she was scooped out of the way, sliding behind a rock to shield them from the fire. Nodding a thanks to Laius before looking over the rock to the dragon that clambered clumsily through the corridor.

“Don't move” Laius breathes out, looking up as the dragon walked over them, the sword in his hand ready to pierce the inverse scale. Quiet clanking erupted from the sword before it flew from his hand.

The dragon looked down at the sword before looking at the hiding party, clicking its tongue to light another fire. “RUN!” (Y/N) called out, desperation in her voice.

“Under its belly!” Laius instructs, sprinting for his life to hide under the dragon.

“Damn you Laius!” Chilchuck yelled as they ran.

“Look I’m sorry ok!?” Laius’ voice was strained as he came to a stop under the dragon.

“There are not enough curse words in the common language! Ponza! Tornado! Unerma! Poojam!” Chilchuck yelled at the Tall-man, glaring at him while he cursed at him in several language (Y/N) didn’t understand.

“Please don't cuss at me in a language I don't speak Chilchuck.” Laius cried.

“Do you have any plans, genius?” Chilchuck tried to keep his anger to a minimum.

“Guys, it looks really mad.”(Y/N) finally speaks, pointing to the dragon as it looks under at them.

“This way! Lets run out the tail side!” Laius yells over his shoulder as they begin to run, stopping in his tracks as the dragon rams its tail into the building, destroying the wall. “On second thought…”

“We’re so fucked…” (Y/N) sighs, looking behind them at the dragon.

“This is where we live now… under the red dragon's crotch.” Chilchuck says in shock, wondering if this would be how he died.

An explosion caught the dragon’s attention, leaving an opportunity to attack. Senshi swings his axe down on its foot, only to shatter on impact.

“Laius, throw me!” (Y/N) demands, pulling her dagger from her belt, “It’s not much but if i can reach the scale.” She looks up as the dragon moves, kicking them all away. (Y/N) sat in desperate thought, trying to think of anything to take the damn thing down.

Laius runs past her, stabbing the dragon’s foot with Senshi’s knife, “Wow! It really pierced through the scales!”

The dragon let out another roar as it tried to step on it’s attackers, backing the party away with each step.

(Y/N) grunts before readying her guitar once again and running under the dragon, ‘I need to give this one more try.’

“(Y/N) wait!” Chilchuck yells after her.

She took in a labored breath before screaming the lyrics again, ‘this is the rest of my mana, but i have to do this!’

“RAISE ME UP AGAIN

TAKE ME PAST THE EDGE

I WANT TO SEE THE OTHER SIDE!”

Strumming her guitar with all her might

“WONT YOU SHOW ME WHAT ITS LIKE”

As she played, Senshi ran past her, diving for Laius’ sword. The dragon’s foot came down, crushing him to the ground.

“NO” (Y/N) screamed, the dragon stumbled, giving enough time for Chilchuck to grab the knife from its foot and throw it, piercing its eyes and causing a scream like roar to erupt from its throat. The dragon crashed into the wall, tumbling the building down with it.

“LAIUS CATCH!” he screams, trying to lift the sword from the ground, all of his efforts stopped at the sword clung to the cobblestone floor.

Seshi grunts, pulling the sword from the ground and throwing it at Laius. Catching it Laius gets off the ground, running into the hole in the wall to find Marcille. “Senshi get up, we have to move!” (Y/N) cries, trying to lift him off the floor with the help of Chilchuck so they could run.

Laius yells as he’s launched onto the dragon clinging to the side of its head as it slammed him into another wall. The dragon bites down on his leg causing Laius to drop down, taking the opportunity to stab its inverse scale.

The dragon lets out one final roar before crashing to the ground. Everyone heaved a sigh of relief at it’s death. Marcille runs from the building to Laius’ side, looking at his now missing leg. (Y/N) help’s get Senshi off the ground before running to Laius as well.

“Shit ok we can heal this, right Marcille? We can fix this!” (Y/N) looks at his wound with panic.

“(Y/N) you’re out of mana.” Marcille shakes her head.

“I can do it, if I can’t do this then what use am I?” She snaps, looking around for his leg. Lining it together she holds out her hands, taking in labored breaths as she channels the last of her mana to reattach and heal his leg. Watching the skin reconnect was the last thing she saw before the world went black.

#angst #chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck #delicious in dungeon #hurt/comfort #dungeon meshi