#ya know for a joke theory i think i put way too much thought into this

[jennwritespokemon]

Sexuality/Gender Headcannons for Pokemon Shield Characters:

*This kind of devolves into some ships I like towards the Leon/Raihan section, so let me know if you'd like to see some specific content for them.

*I'd love to hear your theories/headcannons in reblogs or the comments!

Gym Leaders

Milo

Has only ever dated women, but would be open to dating men

Homoflexible or Pansexual mayhaps?

Once someone explained what Demisexual means he realized that it clicked with him

He/Him pronouns

Does his best to remember people's pronouns

Occasionally wears a He/Him pronoun pin that Kabu got him

(probably wrote a list somewhere so he wouldn't forget)

Profusely apologizes if he gets them wrong (not in a fake ally kind of way)

Nessa

She gives me mean bisexual vibes and I won't be elaborating as to why

(It's probably because she could step on me and I'd thank her BUT I DIGRESS ANYWAY)

She/Her?

Doesn't mind They/Them but she doesn't hear them much so she doesn't think about it

Bisexual w/a preference for women

Will scream at someone who misgenders her friends/partner

Kabu

Straight

He/Him

ONE OF THE FIERCEST ALLIES YOU WILL EVER MEET

Would start an organization among the gym leaders to encourage conversations about gender/sexuality in a safe space

Encourages his gym trainers to wear pronoun pins, and wears a He/Him pronoun pin everywhere

He's the guy at pride wearing a "Free Dad Hugs" tshirt

(He cried when he got the shirt as a gift from one of the other gym trainers he works with)

Will put time and effort into researching the different genders/sexualities that exist now to make sure he's up to date

(Like Milo) also has a list of people's pronouns so he wouldn't forget

Allister

*I won't be going too far into this since he's a child but I still wanted to include him

They/He

Some flavor of nonbinary, I think.

Asexual/Aromantic?

Bede

He/They

You're going to look me in the eye and tell me that man is straight? Absolutely not.

Some sorta gay.

*My friend had a headcannon that he's asexual/Aromantic, and he convinced himself that he's so superior to everyone else and thats why he's not attracted to people.

Melony

Used to be casually homophobic, but is working on being a better ally once she learned more about the LGBTQ+ community

She/Her

At some point realizes that she's always liked women, and just has never explored the concept

Kinda has a "What do you mean not everyone daydreamed about kissing girls as a kid?" Moment.

Eventually comes out as bisexual

Piers

He/They, wants to look more into neopronouns to see if they fit

Demisexual and Panromantic

Doesn't really put a label on his romantic attraction, but uses Panromantic if someone asks

A very easy person to come out to, and is extremely supportive

Performs at Pride every year, without fail

(Probably hosts a smaller pride event for Spikemuth w/Marnie every year too)

Has a pronoun pin on his jacket

Pretty good at remembering pronouns, and will correct someone if needed

Will beat the piss out of someone who's being a homophobe/transphobe without a second thought (and has done so multiple times)

Marnie

She/They

Lesbian & Demisexual

Piers got her a pronoun pin & a lesbian pride pin that she wears on her jacket

(Will also beat the shit out of a homophobe/transphobe if they're bothering her or her partner)

Raihan

He/Him

He gives me bi man whore vibes

Like, give him a drop of alcohol and he'll flirt with anything with a pulse good God

He definately has gotten hit on by so many people that he thought, "Hmm, this increases my odds of getting laid. Why not?" Ya know?

Definately has flirted w/Leon and claims he was joking at the time.

Spoiler alert: He wasn't joking

He goes all out for pride in terms of his outfit, and will post about it on social media

Avery

He/They for the most part

Definately nonbinary to some degree, maybe genderfluid?

Panromantic Asexual...?

His time at the dojo gave him time away from his family to learn more about himself and who he wants to be; Not who his family wants him to be.

Mans is literally decked out in rainbows on a daily basis; C'mon now.

A concept I thought of:

Some Rando: Whats your gender?

Avery: I don't have one.

Rando: Gender is whats in your pants.

Avery: MY GENDER IS ELEGANCE BITCH-

Other Main Characters

Hop

He/Him pronouns

(I've seen some people headcannon him as a Trans man, which isn't something I've thought about but I could see it tbh)

(Similar to Milo) Has only ever dated women, but is open to the idea of dating men if the opportunity presented itself.

I think he just loves people as they are, so gender wouldn't matter too much to him

Panromantic demisexual

Helps Kabu run a pride organization, and keeps him updated on what's going on in the LGBT+ community

Leon

He/Him pronouns

Thinks he's straight for a long time

Mostly because of his job as champion, he never really had the time to do a deep dive into his sexuality. He also didn't want to think otherwise out of fear that it would ruin his reputation.

He gets a lil too tipsy one night w/Raihan and starts seeing him in a different light for the first time.

(Well, the first time that he's willing to admit to.)

Like, damn. Has his eyes always been that bright? Or has his smile always made Leon's heart beat out of his chest? What the hell is going on?

Turns out he'd been thinking out loud, and Raihan explained to him that he might be bisexual or pansexual. (While also jokingly saying something like, "How could you not be attracted to me.")

This took a huge weight off Leon's chest and helped him be more comfortable exploring his sexuality

Later figures out that he identifies as bi

Hop is the first person he comes out to officially (and they both cry.... a lot.)

Sonia

She/Her

Bi

(She figured out she was bi when she was a younger teenager)

(That may or may not have been when she realized that she was VERYYY gay for Nessa)

[walkawaytall]

Now that I finished reading (and reviewing) Collateral, I thought I'd come with some questions, if you haven't answered them before! This was the first fic you posted, but was it the first HxL fic idea you had? How did you come up with this particular take on the Ord Mantell mission? Are there any subtle Easter eggs that you had fun including?

Ooh, thank you for asking! Other than a vague idea I started to write down as a preteen that essentially amounted to “Han proposes to Leia the night after the Battle of Endor and I’m sure I’ll come up with an actual plot later”, this was the first fic idea I had. I had written for another much, much smaller fandom in high school, but hadn’t written or read fanfic in probably 15 years or more. I was in severe professional burnout toward the end of 2022, had just sort of re-embraced Star Wars after avoiding it a lot post-TROS, and decided to start reading for my original OTP. I had also been working on a novel for quite a long time and it was driving me insane, so after blazing my way through a ton of Han/Leia fics on FFN, and later on AO3, I thought I might try writing some fanfic just to have fun with writing again since the novel was making me miserable.

I remember coming up with the idea for the Committee first — the intent with at least part of the fic was to suggest that a lot of the stuff Leia and Han say to piss each other off in ESB are kind of low-blow-type callbacks to private jokes or things they had discussed previously. I also remember reflecting a bit on their relationship and how it’s portrayed at the beginning of ESB — how some people have interpreted that to mean that they spent three dang years griping at one another, but somehow fell in love in between verbal jabs. I think I mentioned this in an early author’s note on Collateral — I had a friendship that was mostly verbal sparring and stupid arguments about things neither of us cared about and it stops being fun after awhile. Eventually, we both just kind of started acting normal around one another. And I just kind of figured that, even if Han and Leia started out picking each other apart, there’s no way they’d go from that to romance in a few words, so I felt like they had to have a friendlier history than what we’re shown. (Plus, I may be reading too much into it, but the way Carrie and Harrison play those parts in that movie, it doesn’t seem like two people who just hate each other to me; it seems like two people who’ve been deeply wounded by one another and aren’t sure what they’re supposed to do. And you have to care about each other somewhat to be wounded by one another, ya know?)

I wanted a fic that was limited in scope for my first fic so I wouldn’t get too carried away with trying to add to a meandering plot or whatever, so I decided on the couple of weeks before ESB starts. I had read a handful of fics about Ord Mantell or referencing Ord Mantell and decided I wanted to do my own take on it. I didn’t know a ton of Star Wars lore, so I remember having to research on Wookieepedia a ton. I do believe my initial intent was for Han and Leia to start their romantic relationship on the trip, but the characters misbehaved while I was writing and Leia kissed Han in her room instead, and I ended up going with that.

Even though I knew most H/L fans would be expecting Ord Mantell to go poorly, I wanted to repeatedly put people at ease, at least in theory. The gang isn’t even worried about Ord Mantell, so why should we be? Everything’s going so well! Han and Leia go on a cute date and everything is fine! Basically, if someone went into the story not knowing about the infamy that Ord Mantell has gained in H/L circles, I wanted them to wonder if anything was actually going to go wrong.

As far as Easter eggs go…I wrote Han with the “Han Solo is mildly Force-sensitive” fan theory in mind. It’s not blatant, but it’s there. Some of the conversations they have reference Leia, Princess of Alderaan and From a Certain Point of View (Leia knowing Huttese comes to mind), and I do assume people catch this, but just in case someone didn’t, the final big conversation that Leia and Han have in her office occurs the afternoon before ESB picks up. The sensors she talks about are the same ones he and Luke are placing at the beginning of the movie.

Oh! Wait! I forgot my favorite one. I never come out and say it, and I don’t know if I even ever implied it, but in my mind, the reason the Falcon is in such rough shape at the beginning of ESB is because, after Leia and Han’s interactions go entirely sour, she stops helping with background repairs, which means Han and Chewie have more to do with just the two of them.

This was incredibly long! Hope that’s okay 😂

[chibishortdeath]

Fuck it, Simon Belmont, because why not you basically themed your blog after him

You don’t have any specific numbers, so I’m just answering every question >:3c mwahahaha—

1. “Why do you like this character”:

A lot of reasons!!! First off, most of his games are super fun and some of my favorite platformers just in general. I replay CV1, Simon’s Quest, and SCV4 most often cause they’re a real joy to play! I also absolutely LOVE Simon’s story, I’ve considered making comics about it if I could ever get out of recent art block whoops, even though I’ve seen many people say he doesn’t have one (´TωT｀). His designs are really cool, he’s got great music in his games, there’s just a lot to love and I’ll explain more in detail in other questions.

2. “Favorite canon thing?”

I really like the concept that he looks up to Christopher as this legendary hero and then ends up considered the same kind of legendary hero by Juste and others after him. It’s pretty ironic, kinda bittersweet, especially after being hated for so long. Castlevania loves its cycles like that. Also just Simon’s Quest in general, I love that game.

3. “Least favorite canon thing?”

Ooo that’s very hard. There’s kinda a lot of things about him that aren’t explained or confirmed, especially personality wise, but I kinda like that in a way cause it leaves room for interpretation and whatnot. Idk hmmm. I’m gonna go with Grimoire of Souls in general. I had some hopes for it, but it ended up being kinda lame. A lot of the characterization was weird and don’t even start me on things like the Cursed Whip theory being in there 💀. So I just choose to ignore it and not consider it canon.

4. “If you could put this character in another media, what would it be?”

I have thought about drawing him as if he was a character in other series for ages lol. I’ve already drawn him as a Pokémon trainer, I’ve thought about drawing Castlevania and Soul Eater crossovers before, and I tried drawing him in the style of Resident Evil 1 but could not get the art style down. Idk put him in Fortnite or something that’d be funny we already got Solid Snake so Konami has been in talks with them I guess X,,,,,,,,,,D

5. “What’s the first song that comes to mind when you think of them?”

Probably either Simon’s Theme (of course lol) or Bloody Tears, but I do wanna mention that I have a YouTube playlist of songs I wanna make Simon animations with eventually (alas animation is HARD).

6. “What’s something you have in common with the character?”

Mostly negative things unfortunately d(;w; ). Like self comparison, doubt in my own abilities, trouble making and keeping friends, etc etc. Although a lot of these are based on assumptions and interpretations, as a lot of him usually is. Simon does have a really similar hair color to me on the NES box art tho so that’s cool.

7. “What’s something the fandom does with this character that you like?”

There’s a lot of really nice art of him!!! Usually portraits, but sometimes there’s other doodles and whatnot too :3. Cool fan redesigns too! I also have seen a lot of neat headcanons, a lot of which I’ve adopted. I also appreciate the Captain N reunion stuff for the most part, it’s pretty wholesome.

8. “What’s something the fandom does with this character that you don’t like?”

I’ve seen a lot of comics, especially around when Smash Bros Ultimate came out, that were really… weird. I think all of them could kinda be boiled down to “old = bad” in the way that the artists probably just found out he was from the 1600s and then decided to make him the Boomer to Richter’s Gen Z for whatever reason (ya know despite Richter being from the 1700s but anyway). Simon would either be the jerk in the situation and/or the butt of the joke. I don’t think that Simon would have any issue with any of the female characters’ outfits let alone start harassing them for it. I saw some comics that made fun of him for not speaking very much in some genuinely disgusting ways too. Like making him not able to read or practically just the generic caveman stereotype. Especially in cases where the artist would depict other silent NES protagonists really nicely after making Simon out to be a complete idiot and asshole. There was also the trend of making him generally be all “oh no witchcraft!!!!!!!!!! What sin!!!!!!! The horror!!!!!!!!” about like anything and everything. I guess a lot of this comes from Smash Bros fans not usually being fans of Castlevania, but I’ve seen it in the Castlevania fandom too just less frequently. There’s also the “Simon has no story” thing oof. I’ve seen people tell people to skip his games or play fan games instead before :(

9. “Could you be roommates with this character?”

Realistically, no, my room is too small for another person :(. If that wasn’t an issue, then yeah probably :).

10. “Could you be best friends with this character?”

I WOULD REALLY LIKE TO—

11. “Would you date this character?”

No, he’s probably married, generally feels more like a bestie, and I’m aroace lol

12. “What headcanon do you have for this character?”

Too many oh my god. I think he probably makes things. That’s a very vague sentence lol, but think like armor, knives, general woodworking, all his necklaces and headbands and stuff, etc. He generally seems like he keeps to himself and lives mostly alone, so I can see him doing all that by himself. He keeps some bones and teeth of things he hunts most of the time. A lot of people have him as the most super Christian of the family, but I see him as like Christian but really not organized or strict about it, if that makes sense? I’ve seen someone else describe the Belmonts as like “Christopagan” before and yeah I think that fits. Idk why but I have consistently drawn him with his cross necklace in his mouth sometimes. I headcanon him as semiverbal (I think that’s the correct term for it, basically like inbetween speaking and nonspeaking). I like to think he’s like really average height for the 1600s cause he’s about as tall as other townspeople and skeletons and stuff. Which is funny cause that’d make him like 5’5-5’7 ish and that’s kinda short in modern day lol. And I guess that makes his 8bit sprite being used all the time make more sense XD. I have way more, I didn’t even get into Simon’s Quest related ones, but I don’t wanna make this too long aaaaaaaaaaaa

13. “What’s an emoticon that reminds you of the character or you think they’d use a lot?”

Ok this is funny cause I actually do have one for this and it’s got context. It’s the “:3”. So I was watching a bunch of people’s playthroughs one night cause I was bored and ran into a channel with a toooooon of speedruns of maps from Harmony of Despair. Whenever they’d get to a boss battle they’d use the typing feature just to go “hi” with a different cutesy emoticon every time, but when they got to Dracula they specifically went for the “hi :3” and then went “oh no :(“ when Dracula started attacking and now that’s the way I think he’d text I guess.

14. “Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character”

How does one properly explain how much this guy slays in one aesthetic term—

15. “What’s your favorite ship for this character?”

Oooooo, in canon probably like his wife (Selena) and/or the Mysterious Woman (who could be the same character depending on what theories you go by), but outside of that Simon Belmont x Getsu Fuma and I can’t even explain exactly why, but it’s pretty cute.

16. “What’s your least favorite ship for this character?”

Any BelmontXBelmont shipping ugh, it’s unfortunately really common on some places… also the whole Lucas or Pit or whatever other child character thing the smash bros fandom had ugh. I guess I also just don’t see the appeal of shipping any of the Belmonts with Dracula.

17. “What’s a ship you don’t hate but it’s not your favorite?”

I’ve also seen people ship him with Solid Snake, Palutena, or Bayonetta before. Ummm he doesn’t really have a lot of other characters he’s shipped with tbh. Idk I saw someone ship him with one of the priests from Simon’s Quest once.

18. “Relationship in canon you admire?”

Unfortunately he doesn’t really talk to people enough in game to form canon relationships 😔

19. “Relationship in canon you don’t like?”

I don’t even know if I can answer this one for the same reasons as the above 💀💀💀. I guess the townspeople hating the hell out of him, but I don’t hate that cause it’s kinda integral to the plot???? Yeah idk lol

20. “What character is the ideal best friend for this character?”

Simon and Shanoa would get along a lot I think. Sara too. Hmmmm… I think he and Alucard would probably also be good friends. Christopher too for many reasons. Simon just really needs friends my poor dude is out here in Dracula’s Castle and the Romanian countryside after being cursed alone like this poor guy :’(

21. “If you’re a fic writer, what’s your favorite thing to do when writing this character? What’s something you don’t like?”

I have not written much at all, however what small comics I have done I looooove to make sure to sprinkle in whatever symbols he has in the games into it. He has a lot of cool things ranging from like rose thorns to The Hanged Man card and a lot of them end up meaning things like martyrdom and whatnot idk I made a post about it a while ago :3. I also like specifically Simon’s Quest speculation stuff, like what if scenarios for the vague, left open spots of it. If it’s not something super angsty or lore heavy, it’s usually just wholesome character interactions or doodling him being comforted by Christopher or Trevor cause I was sad or something lol. As far as things I don’t like writing uh idk that’s hard, maybe just any kind of filler scenes cause I’m not very good at those oof. Dialogue is hard too 💀💀💀

22. “If you’re a fic reader, what’s something you like/don’t like to see in fics?”

I’ve mentioned a lot of things I don’t like seeing in uh question 8, but things I do like is when people really try to go full horror with him. I’ve seen some Simon’s Quest fics (sadly there’s very few :’3) that really try to get that same feeling of anxiousness and dread the game does and I love that honestly. It’s a really dark story in the series! I also saw one that went psychological horror with it with him kinda losing himself a little at night it’s just ough it’s cool :D! Simon is a horror protagonist! Make him afraid!!!

23. “Favorite picture of this character?”

Again, too many!!! X3

24. “What other character from another fandom reminds you of them?”

Not from fandoms I am in (yet, hopefully I’ll get into these), but Ragnvaldr from Fear and Hunger I’ve heard is just directly inspired by him and Alfred from Bloodborne also, to me, seems heavily inspired by him. The whole Vilebloods section seems very Castlevania inspired tbh. From other fandoms I’m in, that’s hard to say, there’s not really any I don’t think.

25. “What was your first impression of this character, is it the same as now?”

Well I got into Castlevania through Smash Bros and at first was completely indifferent about him, he was just kinda fun to play as. Then Richter got me to play SotN and actually get into the series more. I had no idea I had SotN on XBOX360 for a long time, but that made it pretty easy to start playing. And now I am absolutely hooked and Simon is my favorite character so uh yeah X3.

26. “Freebie!”

I guess I just say anything? Ok, I am currently half trying to cosplay Simon’s Simon’s Quest design rn! I have like everything but the armor, but I’ll have to wait a while to be able to get materials for it oof. But yeah :). Hopefully that works out. 

Ok yeah that’s pretty dang long wow, but yeah, thanks for the ask!!!! I am happy to rant about Simon anytime :3

[unohanadaydreams]

As the name suggests, I'm always thirsty for the Big Guy 😉 I wonder how Kenpachi would react if Ikkaku found a piece of your lingerie in the barracks, but no one knew about your relationship?

The idea of Kenpachi being viewed as sus for fucking a 4th member fuels me so ofc. This got out of hand but I fully blame the energy IkkaYumi brings to anything ever and not myself. Thank you for understanding.

Features: smut (18+) at the mid-point, IkkaYumi being real <3 for the majority of it, and sub!Kenpachi (☆ω☆), also idk maybe some minor angst but like made Seggsy.

Kenpachi Zaraki x f!reader (and IkkaYumi...mostly them tbh.)

Ikkaku slapped the door open with loudest ‘OI’ he could muster. The paper of the door ripped somewhere along the way as it slid open, the wooden frame wobbling as he stepped into the room.

Despite the noise, Yumichika’s hand stayed steadfast as he finished smudging eye shadow on his outer lid. Another ‘OI’ sounded, but no hand shook him or foot kicked at him while Yumichika held a brush to his eye.

Glacial, he finished blending the color until he was satisfied--rinsed the brush--set it to dry. Through the mirror in front of him, Yumichika looked to Ikkaku’s reflection only after admiring his own.

The lacy scrap of undies in Ikkaku’s hand lifted Yumichika’s brow.

“I thought you hated when I wore those,” he said with a sniff, turning to get a better look.

Ikkaku rubbed at his bald head, “yah think that because I do.”

Yumichika gestured for the undies and Ikkaku threw them. “And yet?”

“Yet, I found ‘em anyway!” Ikkaku fell into a wide squat, his hands fisting into the fabric of his uniform over his knees. “In the captain’s office.”

They stared at one another, both settling deeper into their feelings.

“Ikkaku, you must be joking,” Yumichika said, holding the undies against his arm. “This color makes me look positively jaundiced.”

“You think captain gives a shit about color theory?”

Yumichika threw the lacy bit of bullshit at Ikkaku’s face. Smiling when they landed on his dumb, shiny head. “He won’t even let me do his hair, Ikkaku. Your delusion is exhausting me.”

“Then--”

“Yes, Ikkaku. Then, they’re not mine. And they’re someone else’s.”

Ikkaku pulled the undies from his head, squinting at them. “Huh.”

Rising with a flourish, Yumichika let the sleeves of his robe billow behind him as he went for the cabinet to rummage for sake. Possibly a new boyfriend.

He came back after a few gulps, offering Ikkaku the bottle only after giving him a sound kick to the head that sent the man flopping to the side.

“Hey!” Ikkaku steadied himself with one hand and rubbed where he’d been kicked with the other...undies still in hand. “Ya can’t blame me. No one else around here would wear that shit.”

Yumichika gave a flat look. Took another gulp of sake. Sighed heavily as he sank to Ikkaku’s level.

“Which means they belong to someone who would,” Yumichika offered along with the sake. “Someone from a different division.”

“Must be serious,” Ikkaku said, sake dribbling down his chin. “Never found anything in his office...ever.”

Yumichika kissed at the trail of sake and took the bottle back once he’d settled into Ikkaku’s lap. “That means whoever it is will be back. And now we know what to look for.”

Ikkaku grunted, shoving his tongue in Yumichika’s mouth before the man in his lap could swallow his sake, not pulling away until he’d swiped as much alcohol with his tongue as he could.

“That shit ain’t good enough for you, anyway.”

“I know,” Yumichika said softly, tone at odds with him rising to stand, heading for the door.

“O--” A raised hand stalled Ikkaku from pointing to his tightened hamaka.

“Fix my door first, dumbass.”

@

Ikkaku lowered from his tip-toes, a man afflicted. “No way.”

“I told you,” Yumichika said in a hiss. “Not just from 4th division, but a pencil pusher.”

You looked like the kind who’d scramble to bring an 11th division soldier any impossible request they bullied you for. The quintessential mouse every self-respecting soldier was inclined to paw at.

“Don’t look so fucking smug, Yumi,” Ikkaku grumbled, peeling off the wall and pulling Yumichika back towards the training grounds by the back of the puffed-up peacock’s uniform, right at the lower back. Yumichika had just gotten his fifth pay-back punch in when they hit the gate that separated captain’s estate from training ground.

Theirs might have been the only captain so enamored with battle that he’d moved his quarters as close as the captain general would allow. If it weren’t for the bullshit ‘housing codes and regulations’, Ikkaku was sure the house would’ve been on top of the large rectangle of packed dirt that served as the largest training ground in the entire division. 

Once they’d hopped the low wall, more meant to keep Zaraki’s house away from the grounds than to keep his underlings on the grounds away from him, Yumichika fell on the nearest bench to fix his uniform.

“Well now what?” Ikkaku rubbed at his side, knowing he was going to need to stretch soon or the tight knot Yumichika had punched into his side or even a night drowned in sake wouldn’t numb it when he collapsed in his futon.

Yumichika didn’t look up from retying his stiff, decorative obi but his face softened, “Now that we’ve been successfully nosy? I was thinking that new, chic sushi bar near the 1st. The one where all the wait-staff look just as yummy.”

“No I, mean--yeah, we’re definitely going,” Ikkaku said, his previous thought tripping over the vision of pretty smiles from androgynous beauties. “But, what do we do about the captain?”

“Well, I’m not going to say anything, but I also have tact. And grace,” Yumichika shrugged, fluffing the bow of obi.

Ikkaku kicked dirt and tensed forward at the shoulders, like he planned to lunge and attack. “I ain’t no fucking snitch and you know it. Don’tcha?”

Sliding forward, Yumichika massaged at Ikkaku’s tense shoulders, rolling his eyes. “I wasn’t saying you would. Just that you’re tactless. And might on accident--which makes you an idiot, not a snitch.”

“Damn right,” Ikkaku grunted, anything but Yumichika’s agreement sliding off his bald head like water. “Wouldn’t snitch for anything. But what if someone else finds out? Like a captain or something. We can’t kill one of them and--”

“Oh, stop worrying about it,” Yumichika said, interrupting and pulling at Ikkaku’s arm--he was hungry, both for refined food and beauties. “No one who wants to live will chance Kenpachi asking for a fight. Or that Captain Unohana; she seems vicious in a way more of our men should be. Such grace.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” Ikkaku nodded, letting himself be dragged off for sushi, sake, and sublime wait-staff. Still, there was morale to think about. No hardened warrior of the rukongai wanted to hear their fearless leader had a weakness for...the weak.

There had to be something more to it but Ikkaku wasn’t going to dig more into his captain’s business. He was more than happy to put the shovel down and follow Yumichika, even as the truth sat uncomfortably at the base of his skull.

@

You were weak in all the ways shinigami measured such things--swordsmanship, spiritual pressure, and kido were subjects you studied more than you practiced, let alone pulled off. But you had enough power to pass school and be sorted into the 4th division ranks, where you excelled.

An aptitude for medical procedure, surgery, and technology was what garnered you not just safety, but respect among your peers.

As for the other divisions? Well, you had some friends in 12th who fully understood your position.

Kenpachi Zaraki? Certainly wasn’t someone who could relate to you.

But, that was fine.

You preferred your men muzzled, anyway.

“Too bad, Cap--tain,” you breathed, stretching his title with your tongue playfully. “I was hoping they’d find out everything.”

Pulling yourself up, one fist over the other, by the leather leash tied taunt around Kenpachi’s neck, you delighted in seeing the muscles there strain to accommodate your weight and the need for breath at the same time.

You pressed your lips against his ear after admiring the rough line of his mouth being forcibly split open by a ball gang, pretty, pink, and yours. “Can’t you go faster?”

His answering grunt was followed by his body pressing into yours quick enough turn your teasing into moans. That’s what you liked most about Kenpachi; he was always striving to be better and exceeding expectation.

it would be effortless for him to put his hands on you without permission or rip out the ball gag, but he didn’t. Even when you met in a grimy bar close to the 11th, too drunk to realize who’s thigh you were toying with, his attention to what you wanted was surprising.

You panted, toes curling as he hit that lovely spot only he ever had, “H-hands on hips.”

So eager, he kneaded from the tops of your thighs to your hips like dough, obviously glad to be rewarded. You were eager too--for the angle. Your hips tilted upward gave him more depth and your fingers tightened on his leash.

There was no need to command for more, because he was giving you his all. And he kept going until your scattered breathing paired with the tight heat he was pounding into you snapped all at once, so intense that your eyes watered.

While you basked in the trembling after shocks, catching your breath, Kenpachi went still.

Until you said, “Sit on floor.”

The bed creaked and rose as he left it, leaving you to collect yourself in peace. When you rose to sit, he was kneeling on the floor, his cock hard and bobbing above his thighs.

You walked to him slow, nails scratching through his rough, black hair as you circled behind him. “Such good work,” you praised, “Just like always.”

Trailing down to the buckle, your fingers made quick of his ball gag, parting it from his teeth gently, and tossing it on the bed.

“What do you want me to reward you with, Kenpachi?” You asked him, only once you’d come to face him, your hand urging his jaw up, his eyes on yours.

“To get off,” he said, shameless.

You hummed, “then do it.”

Frowning, Kenpachi leaned his face into your touch. “I want you to.....please.”

The word ‘please’ was said slow, his eyes leaving yours several times before he said it. You wondered how many people Kenpachi Zaraki had ever asked, for anything. Let alone, with manners.

You kissed his nose, finding the almost demure behavior cute, “Then I will. Lay down.”

He did, his arms behind his head, like he napping under a tree instead of waiting for your hands to give his weeping cock relief.

You took your time, teasing him with sensation by spitting into your hand and giving him light rubs, again and again until his hips lifted off the ground.

The lacy bit of pink undies that stretched tight over his thighs, were yours too. And you peeled them off, throwing them toward the ball gag as his breathing grew heavy in the air.

Perhaps you deserved less teasing, but you couldn’t resist dragging out the fun a touch more, one hand fondling his tightening balls while the other scratched lightly at his inner thighs.

His breathing was catching on groans and audible ‘ah’s that had you biting your lip. Thigh’s clenching, you finally began circling the tip of his cock. Soon, you were giving him his first pump, slick hand trailing his length from tip to base in smooth, steady motions.

Straddling his thighs, you took advantage of the position and put both your hands to work, gripping him harder but keeping the same pace.

“Look how hard you are,” you cooed, hands pausing as your thumb circled the slit topping the bulbous head of his cock. “Do you want to cum for me?”

His, “yes,” was immediately pushed from his heaving chest. You hummed, so tempted to climb on top of him fully. But, that would be a kind of weakness you didn’t allow yourself.

Kenpachi’s lone eye struggled to stay open as you lowered your lips to kiss the tip of him. You rose back up and licked them as he watched, his pre-cum salty as it settled on your tongue.

You couldn’t call him unraveling under your firm, fast touch seeing him at his weakest. But, you were certain it was a kind of vulnerable he seldom experienced. Even his arms had come from behind his head, his fingers flexing around air while he struggled to keep them away from you. His hips began bucking with such strength that you were forced to tighten your thighs around his to keep your place.

Desperate, is what he was. For you to give him what he worked for.

And, you did.

His cock pulsed as you wrung his orgasm out, thick ropes of cum falling over his sweaty stomach and dripping down your hands. His moan was loud, deep, and reverberated through out the room like a cry of victory.

You kept stroking him until he was completely spent, until he made a sound almost like a whine.

“I need--”

He sat up, setting you on the floor before padding to the bathroom, and coming back with a damp cloth. “Here.”

“Thank you,” you said, keeping your eyes on your hands as you willed yourself to calm down. His orgasm had made you want him again, badly. But you had things to do. He had things to do.

What you had with Kenpachi was strange and tenuous. And your smug confidence drained a bit as you cleaned yourself and him, until you were almost unsure.

What now? You’d never even seen his house before this. Always in more public places, where you parted almost immediately after playing with him.

“You want these back,” he asked, lifting the ball gag and undies in one hand while pulling back the blankets on the bed with the other. The leash was already on the bedside table, his neck angrily red still.

If you took them, you wondered if it was all over. “No, you should. They’re easy enough to clean.”

“...You sure?”

You nodded, not so attached to a couple cheap props that you’d be wounded if something happened to them. “They’re all yours.”

Shrugging after a moment of silence, he gestured with his head to the bed, “unless you wanna take a shower first.”

“I’m fine for now,” you responded, climbing under the blanket, more confused than obedient. “Are you tired?”

“Enough to sleep.”

The bed dipped from his bulk, forcing you closer. He tossed an arm around you, so you could get comfortable against his side. You lay your head on his chest, eyes still open, listening to him breathe.

At first, you’d thought maybe it was all a joke. That Kenpachi Zaraki was trying to trap you into....something, like those men who feigned nice before using all their muscle to force you to bend as they wanted. To teach you a lesson for trying to dominate him.

You didn’t delude yourself into thinking you had real, tangible power of him or any man you’d toyed with, after all. Just something momentary, like a brief understanding.

But you felt less cautious as your eyes drooped shut and your thoughts circled around his intentions. He always approached you and asked, vague and gruff, ‘here good?’ And you’d find a closet or office or twisty alley that would do.

This time, you asked him. And he took you to his bedroom, compliant as ever, waiting for you to sprinkle nice words in his ear, for you to give him pleasure for being his best.

Drifting off to the rise and fall of his chest, you wondered if things like that meant so much to him.

[cal-puddies]

Run Your Hands Through My Hair // Calum Hood

I made a joke about writing this. But there was enough requests that I finally did. Of course @kindahoping4forever​ was a champ in helping me with some of these ideas. <3 

Warnings: Scenes including unprotected sex, female oral sex, slight bondage but mostly just sex. 

Word Count: 5389

Cass & Crystal’s Masterlist 

Let  us  know  what  you  think!

Cal groans from the hallway.

You wrap the blanket from the bed around your naked body, annoyed that your boyfriend got up to groan and make too much noise in the hall.

“Bubba.” You say, standing in the hallway to look at him, “what’s up?” He's clad in only gray sweatpants, slung too low (or perfectly low for your preference, but no one else needed to see him that way), on his hips.

“The curls are too much.” He groans.

“Excuse me?” You ask.

He turns and looks at you, recognizing your tone. “What?”

“The curls? On the top of your head?” You clarify.

“Yes baby, it’s a lot, want you to shave my head.” He says, running his fingers through the thick curls trying to prove his point.

“No.” You say, swiftly turning back into the bedroom. You get back in bed and pull the blanket over your head.

“What do you mean, no?” He follows you in the bedroom, and sits on the edge of the bed, resting his hand on your side.

You pull the blanket down, “I won’t do it.”

“Yeah I heard you, but why not?” He lays against you and rests his head on your shoulder.

“Baby… if you wanna shave your head, you’re gonna have to call someone else that doesn’t like to yank on your hair when you’re eating their pussy. How about that? Or someone who doesn’t think our sex has been more bomb with your hair grown out.”

“What? How is our sex more ‘bomb’ when my hair is longer?”

You scoot away from him so you can turn and face him. “You probably don’t notice the way your hips drive harder when I pull your hair, or that you moan louder when we fuck, or you man handle me more. But I notice and enjoy all of those things. So if you shave your head, then we both lose.”

“I… don’t think that’s true.” Cal challenges.

“And how do you propose we test this theory?” You cock your eyebrow at him.

Cal smirks and pulls you to him, and under him, “I’m sure I can come up with a couple ideas to restrain you so we can test it.”

“And what if I’m right?”

“If you’re right, and the sex is more ‘bomb’ as you said,” he stops to press his lips to yours briefly, “then I’ll reward you with more bomb sex, and I’ll just get it trimmed.” He pecks your lips again, “but if I’m right and the sex is the same bombness, then you still get bomb sex and you’re shaving my head.” He pecks your lips again.

“When shall we commence?”

“You gotta eat first. I’ll make ya breakfast.” He kisses your cheek and rolls off of you, he grabs his tshirt from the day before and tosses it to you before adjusting his sweatpants higher on his hips.

He walks out of the room leaving you in bed alone. You have half a mind to go back to sleep and he can wake you when whatever he cooks is ready, but you eventually give in, throwing his shirt on and heading for the kitchen.

“I’ve decided on a two tiered approach.” He informs you as you pour coffee. He sets some already crispy bacon near you, “after breakfast, we’ll try the experiment, and after lunch, we’ll try with your hands untied.”

“If you wanted to fuck all day, why didn’t you just say so?” You smirk, grabbing a piece of bacon.

“Well, it wasn’t my original plan for the day, but I can work with what you need.” He explains, taking his eyes off the pancakes long enough to pull you in for a hug and a kiss.

“Is this all you’re making?” You ask, looking at the bacon and pancakes.

“Is there something more you’d like?”

“I mean… if we’re fucking, might need some protein.” You shrug, kissing his jaw.

“Oh I can give you protein.” He grabs your ass and his lips find yours.

You both smirk, “yeah, I was thinking like food protein, not a protein shot from your cock.” You wink, pulling away to get eggs.

“You might get one of those anyway.” He makes room for you at the stove, and nods when you hold the egg up, “2 please, the normal way.”

You nod and set to work making eggs, while he focuses on the pancakes and bacon. “I mean you’d probably deserve a blowie with how many times you’re gonna have to eat my pussy.” You shrug.

He wraps his arms around you from behind, “no no no baby, I want to eat your pussy as much as possible. There’s no room for ‘have to.’” He presses soft kisses to the back of your neck and you shiver. He gently bites the skin before moving away so you can make the eggs and he can finish the pancakes.

He stacks plates for the two of you under the plate with the pancakes and bacon and grabs both coffee mugs while you grab the syrup, forks and pan with the eggs. Cal’s already got plates made up so he grabs the pan from you and serves eggs.

You eat quietly, enjoying each other’s company. When you're done you take it upon yourself to climb into Cal’s lap, straddling him, you tuck your face into his neck. “You ok?” He murmurs against your ear.

“Just wanted to be close to you.”

“You’re gonna spend all day close to me.” He says quietly, moving the hair off your neck so he can kiss behind your ear.

“Not like this though.” You murmur, lips tickling his neck.

“Should I reschedule the experimental fucking? Is this what you need today?” He wonders.

“Mmm… just want you, however I can have you.” You pull back from him, sliding your hips forward as you lean back against the table. You rest your hands on his bare chest, and his fingers tease under the hem of the shirt on your body,

Cal leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. You hold his face and deepen it, swiping your tongue across his lip so he’ll open up. He keeps it short between the two of you, pulling away and resting his forehead against yours. “You can have me however you want. You just say so.” He reminds you.

“I know… but right now, I’m more curious on how you’ll have me.” You smirk. “For the sake of science, I need to know what the plan is so we can make sure we’re recreating correctly.” You gently run your fingers through his hair.

“Gotta eat…” he murmurs, “and figured we’d do something chest to chest.” He preens a bit as you run your nails against his scalp.

“Sounds logical,” you respond quietly, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before draping yourself over him again.

Cal takes the opportunity to hold you, you don’t spend a lot of time like this, he wants to take advantage of your willingness to sit still with him.

Cal doesn’t rush you, he lets you sit with him like that.

And then you’re doing the dishes together, flirty banter continues. He grabs a couple bottles of water from the fridge and then your hand. “C’mon beautiful… we’ve got work to do.” He mumbles, pressing his lips to your cheek and then pulling you toward the bedroom. You sit on the bed and watch as he goes to the closet and pulls out the toy box, you watch curiously, because toys weren’t part of the plan.

He pulls out the silk ties you vaguely remember buying together. “Shit, I forgot about those.” You chuckle. He hands them to you so he can put the box back.

“I only thought of them during breakfast. I was gonna do the belt but that hurts too much after one round and I can’t have you walking around with bruised wrists again.” He grins before slipping in the bathroom to grab the lube.

“You mean you didn’t enjoy explaining to our friends why it looked like someone tied my hands behind my back with a belt and had their way with me.” You call to him, obvious smirk in your tone.

“Ash knew. He just knew.” Cal smirks, coming back in “Luke took a little explaining.”

“Oh god, you corrupted the baby?” You tease.

“No Love, I’m the baby, and you corrupted me.” He leans in for a kiss, pulling the ties away from you.

“Bullshit! If anything we further corrupted each other.” You giggle into the kiss.

“I can agree with that.” He murmurs, crawling on the bed with you and laying you back.

You enjoy the slow make out session, handsy but not overly eager. Cal slips his shirt off your body, and rolls you on top of him. He sighs as you pull back and hold your wrists out for him. He gently but firmly ties your wrists together and then helps you get comfortable on the pillows before tying them to the headboard.

“You’ll tell me if these need loosened?” He asks quietly, looking at you.

“Of course.” You nod.

Cal leans back for a kiss. He cups your face when he pulls back, just looking at you for a beat, and then his plump lips are on your neck, and he kisses down your body. He stops to pay attention to your tits, gently squeezing one while his mouth engulfs the soft flesh and he sucks, his other hand gently teases your other nipple, he kisses across your chest, doing the same on the other side, you let out a breathy moan and he looks up to you. “Doin ok, m’love?”

“You better be planning to be this loving about it later.” You bite your lip as he gently bites just below your tit before swirling his tongue over it.

“I will… I’m sure you’ll remind me.” He grins before continuing his trail down your body. Cal nibbles at both of your hips, and then he’s pushing your thighs up. He kisses down the back of one and gently bites, and then kisses down the back of the other, his hand soothingly caressing the other. He gives a bit harder of a bite and he’s surprised by your minor moan instead of a squeal. “You feelin it baby?”

You tug at your hands because you already wanna run your fingers through his fluffy curls, Cal notices, and before you can answer him, he wraps an arm around your thigh and licks through your folds, you watch his head dip and feel his mouth setting to work to please you. He stops and you whine, he notices it’s the loudest sound you’ve made thus far.

He grabs the headband off the table and quickly puts it on, you usually hold the hair out of his eyes. He quickly sets back to work, listening for your whines and whimpers. He watches you close, he always does, but this time to see if you’re right. He notices you pulling your hands and getting frustrated, and he’s ready to give in, he’s just started and you aren’t having the reaction he’d hoped for, usually tieing you up is a fun thing for the two of you.

He tries not to think about it as he lets his fingers start working you, two in and thumb on your clit while he kisses on your thighs. He sucks a hickey into your thigh, and finally as he curls his fingers into your g-spot you have a reaction he expects, it’s a breathy moan of his name as you start bucking your hips. “Finally,” he mumbles gently biting your thigh and using his mouth to replace his fingers.

“Cal… please.” You moan.

He focuses his tongue and lips over your clit, bringing you to what he determines to be a lackluster orgasm. Not a lot of whining or whimpering, he can’t tell if you’re being stubborn or it really just isn’t as good, and he doesn’t know if that is his fault.

He kisses his way back up to your lips. “You ready for my cock or do you wanna wait a bit?” He murmurs.

“I’m ready.” You assure him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Cal situates himself between your thighs, sitting on his knees. He runs his palms against your thighs and grins at you. “Your arms ok doll?”

“Yeah, handsome, I’m good.” You smile softly at him.

He grabs for the lube, slicking his cock up before teasing it through your folds. He takes it slow to start, pushing in as far as you’ll take him before pulling out and pushing back in, this time getting a bit further.

He watches you bite your lip, enjoying the fullness as he settles all the way in. Cal runs his hands along your thighs and up over your belly, you hum. “I love the way you feel.” You murmur, dopey smile crossing your face.

“Me too, love.” He murmurs, leaning forward to kiss you. He gently starts rocking his hips, building his rhythm. He listens for you, hears your breathing pick up a touch as he moves a bit faster. After a few more minutes and several kisses to your neck, he turns his mouth towards your arms, kisses and little bites along your skin. “Still ok?” He checks.

“It’s actually getting a bit uncomfortable.” You admit.

He stops what he’s doing and sits up. “Do you need it loosened?” Pushing his hands up your skin soothingly, to the ties.

“It’s not too tight, my arms are just burning from being like this.”

He undoes the tie holding your arms up and lets them come down, resting against the pillows above your head. “Better?” He watches you nod, “mmmkay, no hair pulling.” He reminds you and you nod. He leans forward and works back up to his pace, but he can tell something still isn’t quite working for you. “What is it, gorgeous?” He murmurs.

“We just don’t do chest to chest a lot and when we do it’s not for something like this so it feels a bit weird. Do you not feel it?” You ask, getting a bit self conscious about it.

“No baby I do, but I thought you were just being stubborn because you wanna be right.” He smirks.

“Oh I am right, but I’m not trying to ruin your experiment.” You tease.

“Let’s switch this up then.” He grins. He pulls out and pushes you onto your side and settles behind you, putting your back to his chest. His hand skims down your side, grabbing at your knee to spread you. He slips in and works up to his previous pace, he can already tell it feels better for you.

“Calum,” you moan, turning your face toward his. He presses his lips to yours. “Fuck.” You whimper against his mouth.

Cal likes that this is better. You’re definitely into this more. He watches you pull your arms down so you can start rubbing your clit, and he decides to step up his game, pounding into you. “Feels so fuckin good.” He groans in your ear before biting your shoulder.

“Oh fuck… I’m gonna cum.” You whimper. “Please please please.” You beg.

Cals hand replaces yours at your clit, his other hand comes up to massage your tits, and he leans in to groan in your ear, “I knew this stubborn little pussy couldn’t hold out for much longer.”

“Cal…” you moan.

“C’mon… squeeze that cunt around my cock.” He growls.

“Holy fuck…” you whine, letting the orgasm wash over you.

He thrusts a few more times, “milking my cock so good.” He groans, “you love it when I fill you don’t ya baby?” He moans in your ear, pressing his hips hard into yours as he finishes.

You turn your face into his and desperately kiss him, “I do… I really fuckin do.” You moan against his lips.

Cal stays buried in you, wrapping one arm around your waist and using the other to cradle your head, keeping you in the kiss. He lets you catch your breath and then unties your hands, “told you the sex was still good when you couldn’t pull my hair.” He gloats.

“That wasn’t the argument.” You grin, “I said the sex was better, but that was not to insinuate that it wasn’t good in the first place.”

“Fair point.” He hums, kissing your shoulder, “c’mon let’s get cleaned up and we can watch a movie and rest up.”

Cal likes it as you immediately cuddle into him on the couch, he pulls a blanket over the two of you.

“I like our choices for the day.” You hum, turning your head up to kiss along his jaw.

“Oh yeah? What do you want to do tonight then?”

“Depends on how our afternoon goes, I suppose.” You shrug, smiling innocently while pushing your fingers into the waistband of his underwear.

“My little troublemaker.” He murmurs, resting a hand on top of yours, stopping you from going further, “I forget if you wake up for sex youre horny all day.” He chuckles.

“Used to be something you liked about me.” You tease.

“Oh, I love that about you. Just didn't factor it in for today.” He chuckles.

“Hmm.. that’s too bad, because I have this scene in my head of sitting on your face and threading my fingers in your hair… pulling it so you’ll groan into my pussy and lick up into me the way only you can.” You smirk.

“Oh?” He nods, “I’m sure I can accommodate you.” He pinches your ass. “But we’re supposed to be resting.”

“How am I supposed to rest against your half naked bod when all I can think about is how hard I’m gonna get you to fuck me?” You chuckle.

“I don’t know where this doubt comes from that I won’t take care of you but I honestly don’t like it.” He chuckles.

“If you don’t, there are plenty of toys that can.” You wink.

“And I bought us most of those toys… see still taking care of you.” He grins.

You smile, letting out a little laugh, one that Cal loves, “I like you.”

“I like you.” Cal grins, pulling you in to kiss your forehead, holding you tight to his body. He feels you relax into him and within a few minutes you’re asleep. “Knew you’d be tired.” He murmurs.

You sleep for about an hour, and when you get up to go to the bathroom, Cal gets up to make some sandwiches for lunch. He meets you back on the couch and he sits right next to you. “Did you have a nice nap?” He checks, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

“I did.” You grin, “thanks for the sandwich.”

“Anytime love.” He hums, “Ash invited us for dinner. Do you think you’ll wanna?”

“Probably… taco night?” You grin

“I’ll request.” He chuckles.

The two of you keep watching tv until Cal gets up to clean up. He comes back and pulls the blanket off your lap, dropping to his knees in front of you, he pulls your underwear down over your ankles and grins while watching your eyes light up. He kisses over your thighs, helps you pull your t-shirt off.

He leans up, pressing his lips to yours for a kiss before murmuring, “finally, what I really wanted for lunch.” He smirks and works his lips down your body.

You bite your lip and gently grip into his hair, pulling his head up. His tongue briefly lulls out of his mouth. “No one was stopping you.”

“You'd let me use your body till you starved if I let you.” He smirks.

“Mmm, I’d still be happy, but youre the same way baby boy.” You smile coyly.

“I happen to know what I like.” He winks, and in one quick motion pushes your legs wide and angles your hips up.

You adjust your grip in his hair, gently running your fingers through the curls before gripping.

Cal takes his first lick, flattening his tongue against your wet opening and then up over your clit, he uses the tip to tease your clit a bit before fully sucking on your clit.

Cal makes sure to pay very close attention to your body. He notices the way you tug his hair and grip into his skin, grabbing his bicep or forearm, reaching for the back of his neck, pulling him and closer as you get louder for him and arch your back off the couch. He quickly realizes how much he enjoys your touches and your sounds, and he starts thinking you might be right.

“Damn baby, so sweet.” He murmurs, working his fingers in, kissing up over your belly to your mouth. “Think your mostly right though, think you just like to touch.” He admits against your lips.

“I won’t concede on this. I like your hair.”

“I hear you gorgeous.” He promises. “But I’m still gonna get it trimmed. Is that ok with you?”

“Just make sure I can still pull.” You murmur against his mouth. “I like how you conceded before the experiment was over.”

“Well, I’m not done yet.” He promises, giving a quick open mouth kiss before kissing back down your belly. “Actually…” he grabs a pillow from the couch and lays back, “someone wanted to sit on my face.”

“Oh fuck yes.” You moan, jumping up from the couch to get on your knees over Calum’s head. “Baby boy.” You coo, looking down at him as he pulls you down on his face.

Cal’s an enthusiastic eater, it’s one of the things you love about him. And he adores having you over him like this, or spread for him, his tongue curiously exploring every inch of you even though he’s had you like this a thousand times.

Cal is immediately moaning into you, talking about your sweet cunt. You love watching him like this, his hands move between your ass and your hips, wrap around your thighs to pull you closer, his hands push up to your breasts to squeeze and pinch your nipples. As always, him eating your pussy is a full body experience. You cum as soon as Calum starts licking up into you, the tip of his tongue pushing into you instead of just fluttering around your opening and and teasing your clit, he recognizes it immediately, the way you shudder and pull his hair, he loves it, pulling you closer and not letting up, letting you feel every bit of his tongue he can get inside of you.

“Oh god.” You moan, “so good handsome,” tugging his hair between your fingers. You try to push away but Cal’s not having it, and before you know it, “no no no no Cal… I’m gonna..” and before you finish the sentence, you’re squirting on his face. He finally lets you go and he’s grinning so wide as you push away from him, landing on your ass next to him. “I’m so sorry bubba.” You say, slightly embarrassed.

He hums in amusement, grin spread wide across his face as he sits up, one hand immediately reaches for you while the other grabs for the shirt you were wearing so he could wipe his face. His hand pushes up your thigh, and he gently teases your clit for a moment before pulling you in at the waist, “I knew you were getting there.” He murmurs, kissing your cheek. “I love when you do that.”

You pout, “I always feel bad for making a mess.”

“It’s always a mess I’m glad you made.” Cal counters, “why don’t you head to the bedroom and I’ll clean this up. Then… I’m aching to get my cock in you.” He smirks and you stop pouting.

Cal takes a little longer than you expect cleaning up, and you’re laying on your stomach facing the door, humming to yourself, just kind of staring off into space. He walks in and you can see the way his hard on strains against his sweatpants and you reach out for him, licking your lips. He moves closer and even as well as he knows you, he still wasn’t expecting you to pull his pants down and get your mouth on his cock. His fingers thread into your hair as you lick the smeared precum off the tip of his cock.

“Love the way you taste.” You grin up at him.

“You’re not supposed to be doing that.” He coos.

“Can’t help myself.” You wink, rolling over onto your back and hanging your head off the edge of the bed. You push his pants the rest of the way down and pull on the back of his thighs so he’ll step closer. You open your mouth and without thinking, Cal’s doing exactly what you want, putting his cock in your mouth. He waits patiently while you slick him up, tongue lavishing over every part of his hot, hard cock. “C’mon baby boy… you know what to do.” You murmur, gently pinching his thigh.

Calum begins to move his hips, gently at first, allowing you to get used to the feeling of his cock in your throat. His body shudders when he feels you moan around him. And it eggs him on, his mind is blank but he can hear his own labored breathing, he doesn’t remember exactly what is supposed to be happening at the moment, but as he looks over your body, he can tell you’re turned on, and enjoying letting him fuck your throat. Your nipples are hard and you keep opening and closing your legs, trying to find a way to get friction. He uses one hand to trail his fingers up from your belly button, over each of your breasts, letting it stop at your throat. He holds it gently, groaning while feeling his cock as it pushes into the tight space beneath your skin. He pulls his cock back as your face turns red and tears spill from your eyes. You grab his slick cock in your hand and start tugging, moving your mouth to his balls, Cal enjoys it briefly, before realizing, “hey… I’m supposed to be fucking you.” He accuses with a slight chuckle, running his fingers through your hair.

You pull off his balls with a pop, “technically you still are.”

He rolls his eyes and casts a disdainful glance down at you, pulling out of your reach. “You know what I mean.”

“C’mon baby boy.,. Just want a taste.” You whine, rolling back onto your stomach, reaching for him.

“I’ll make sure you get a taste… when it’s dripping out of you.” He decides. He gets his pants off the rest of the way and steps to you, “com’ere little one. Show me your sweet cunt.” You turn your body on the bed, bending your knees and spreading your thighs. Cal kneels on the bed, “I never ever get tired of this sight.” He grins, gently swiping the head of his cock through your slick folds. “Dripping for me, pretty girl.”

He’s barely sunk himself in before you decide he’s taking too long, using the leverage you have from your feet to fuck yourself on his cock. Cal smacks your thighs and you moan out, grabbing your breasts, pulling at your hard nipples, “fuck… yessss…” you moan.

“I’m supposed to be fuckin you, naughty little one.”

“Then fuckin come here and do it, Calum.” You reach out for him.

Calum lowers himself so he’s against your chest, his chains dangling against your skin. “So mean when you want it.” he chuckles, kissing you.

You wrap your arms around him, pulling his hair and his head away from you so you can attach your lips to his neck, while his hips pound against yours. “Harder.” you whimper, digging your fingers into his skin.

Cal grunts in response, but his hips respond in the way you asked.

Each request of “harder” is met with harder thrusts, his hips ultimately hitting yours hard enough to bruise both of you.

“Harder… deeper….” you whimper, tugging on his hair, nails digging into his bicep.

“God dammit.” He groans, knowing you don’t get this way often. He easily lifts you from the bed, surprising you, he bounces you on his cock a couple of times while deciding between the wall and the bedside table. He makes a split second decision and holds you still against him, swiping an arm across the bedside table. It’s not the first time he’s replaced the lamp and it won’t be the last. He sets you on top of it, moving you so your legs are pressed against his chest.

You immediately grip into him, “fuck… that’s perfect,” you whimper and it’s met with a growl from Calum and his grip on your hips tightens. He watches your head fall back against the wall as you mutter breathy confirmations about how good it is around his name and just general utterances of ‘fuck’.

He watches your body, he knows you’re close. He lets one hand trail up your body, cups your tit and pinches your nipple, and then he lets his hand rest gently at your neck. He gently moves his hand up higher and grabs your jaw, pulling you to look at him, “cum” he growls, and you do… loudly, long drawl of his name as you clench so tight around his cock. He pushes your legs to either side and you do your best to wrap them around Calum. You keep your eyes on him while he works on finishing, and he holds an intense gaze with you.

“C’mon baby boy, fill me with cum.” You coo at him. His face falters for a second and a growl leaves his mouth, and with two more thrusts and a grunt, he’s  cumming. “Fuck that feels so good.” You murmur. Cal pulls you in against his heaving chest, “see, I told you.” You kiss his chest.

“Well then.” He kisses the top of your head, “you were clearly correct, though I think the data may be skewed, but I’ll allow it.” He murmurs.

You grin at him, and then kiss the middle of his chest, you kiss over to the right and flick your tongue over his nipple and he grabs your hair, pulling your head back. “Mmm mmm baby, four in one day is a lot for you, if we go for five you’ll be cranky at dinner.” He tsks.

“No, I won't!” You protest.

“Yes you will.” He nods at you, “you get cranky when you're tired and i've been working this body all day. Maybe when we get home and I put you to bed.”

“You’re gonna put me to bed?” You challenge.

“Yeah, ‘cause your tired ass won’t do it yourself. So I’ll do it.” He nods, “now,” he gently trails his thumb over your lips, “put this sassy mouth to work and clean my cock.”

You lick the tip of his thumb as he pulls out and away from you. You get on your knees and clean the mixed cum off his cock, squeezing the last bit of his cum out onto your tongue. Without saying a word he reaches down and picks you up under your arms, once you’re on your feet he turns you around and bends you over the bedside table, dropping to his knees to clean the cum from your pussy. He shares it in a kiss before tucking you in for a nap.

“Wait, where are you going?” You murmur, exhaustion taking over.

“I’m gonna shower and go get my hair trimmed. I’ll be back quick, love. You’ll probably still be asleep.” He promises.

“Cal..” you whine.

“Rest you up love, if you’re not your normal sassy self Ash is gonna know something is up.” He chuckles.

“Hopefully it’s you.” You grin sleepily at him.

“Insatiable huh?”

“Sometimes it be like that, Hood.” You reach for his hand, “I love you. Thanks for hearing me out before shaving your head.”

“Well you saved me from the biggest mistake of my life, so I should be thanking you.” He kisses your palm, “love you too baby girl.” He murmurs.

[celestial-fucking-weeb]

WINTER WARMTH

__________________

Hi, everyone!! This is a part of the Citrus Dome Snowed In collab! I’m so thankful to be a part of this round and super grateful for @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten and @tomurasprincess for letting me be on the masterlist! I’m so excited, but I’m not super proud of this one, so please feel free to give feedback.

Masterlist Here!

Go see everyone’s super awesome fics and art pieces they worked so hard on!!

ART BY @brttpaige on Twitter🖤 Go check out her artwork, she’s fantastic!

Warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, AGED UP (mid twenties), fluff, insecurities, smut, body worship, chubby kink, marking (hickies), Papi kink

Pairing: Sero Hanta x reader

The local news station hailed it as “the storm of the century,” and they weren’t wrong. You’ve watched the snow pile up beyond the window, building from a light dusting on the grass to literal knee-high drifts. And it shows no sign of stopping.

The place you’re stranded is stocked up on groceries, you’d charged every electronic device to your name, and you’d cranked the thermostat as high as it would go until the inevitable happens —

The power goes out.

So now you’re stuck indoors, with only a certain someone for company. The same someone you’ve been pining after for ages. Snow stacks up higher and higher outside. As the cold seeps in, and you both drift closer, you realize this was somehow the one thing you hadn’t thought to prepare for…

The snow outside was pretty at first, but now with the doors and windows to your small cottage-type home half covered, it seemed almost oppressive. With the power outage, there was no television to drown out the quiet, only deafening silence and the movement of your new roommate, Sero Hanta.

It didn’t start this way, you hadn’t always obsessively paid attention to his mannerisms. At one point in time, he was just a hero working for the same agency you provided medical care for. You were just support staff, until a dumb villain thought you were “important” and kidnapped you, leaving the heroes you saw as coworkers to rescue you. After that, the agency wanted you to live in the adjacent apartments, but you refused. Magically, two days later, Sero Hanta approached you asking about your spare room under the guise of his lease running out. You thought it seemed a bit suspicious, particularly that this gorgeous man had “nowhere else to go”, meaning no significant other to take him in. Of course, you agreed, being a nice person and maybe bit naïve. He moved his stuff in, didn’t make much of a fuss, and mostly left you to your own devices. That is, until you noticed some... abnormalities. The lingering glances, the newly installed security cameras, the not-so-subtle ideas to spend time with you of having meals together or watching movies, making sure you’d eaten or slept... He cared too much. He was so perfect- gorgeous, tall, easygoing, had similar goals as a rescue hero, funny, and he cared. He cared for you, which made living with him so much harder. You found yourself enjoying nights with him, wanting to sit a little closer, wanting to impress him with new dishes to make for dinner, ditching your ex’s sweatpants for cute sleep shorts, relishing in fantasies of his protective nature and dominating stature with your hand between your thighs... You thought you were going to choke when he started walking around in only gray sweats or a towel after his shower. You tried your best to keep eye contact, not stick around too long, not encroach upon his comfort in his own house. You failed to notice the smirk on his face when you quickly excused yourself or when you turned away too fast after being caught staring.

Sero had originally taken this as an assignment, although he did have a bit of a crush on you from the times you’d patched him up after rough shifts. He thought of himself as your own personal hero, but that mindset soon turned into more than just an assignment. He was protective over you, and he found himself getting defensive if you even mentioned another guy. He had tried flirting within reason, just making dinners and watching movies, but he got cocky when he had walked past your door one night and heard your little whimpers. He decided to test his theory, wearing his sweats lower than he normally would and walking back to his room in a towel, and delighting in strolling past your room to hear your muffled moans and the vibrations of the toy you never used to use. You were getting desperate, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t boost his ego to hear his name through the walls. This, however, was NOT something he’d planned on.

Everything was fine, being stuck in the house together was nice, until the power went out. The heat somewhat remained in the house until night, when you curled up on the couch under every blanket you had and he layered on an extra hoodie and lounged next to you. He looked cold...

“H-Hey... Sero? Um... You look cold. Do you want a blanket?”

“Hmmm, but then wouldn’t you be cold too?” He chuckled and scratched the back of his neck.

“Well... Maybe... But that’s okay! You need to be warm too!!” God, you’re so sweet.

“I mean... You could always come over here, we can be warm together!” He stretches out his arm and beckons you over, inviting you to curl up next to him. You shift over, spreading the blankets over your roommate and hiding your blushing face under the pile of softness, keeping at least 3 inches of space between you before he rests his arm behind your head.

“Thanks, y/n, this is uh... nice!” He hides his disappointment at your perceived rejection, going back to look at his phone.

After 20 minutes of scrolling, you can’t take it anymore. He smells so good, and you can feel the warmth radiating from his body.

“I’M GONNA GO TO BED NOW. Uh, goodnight!” You basically shouted, too loud to be natural. You abruptly stood up before slightly shrinking from the frigid air. When did it get so cold in here?

“Hey, it’s really cold... We don’t really have a ton of blankets, and I’m worried you’re going to freeze, so maybe we could sleep in my room tonight? Just for, ya know... body heat?” He sounds nervous, like he expects you to freak out and reject him completely.

“Well... I-I guess that’s smart... You’re right. So... Let’s go?” Holy fuck, you are so nervous. You were originally escaping to your room like you normally do, too horny to continue hanging out with Sero and retain your sanity, but now you’re sleeping with him?! What the fuck are you thinking?!

He gathered the blankets and lead you into his room, holding the door for you before plopping down your nest of fabric. You stand awkwardly in the center of the room, waiting for something you have no idea what. Sero unceremoniously strips himself of his hoodies and sweats and climbs into bed, seemingly out of habit, before turning his attention to you and holding the blankets open.

“Are you coming?” He smirks, putting on a confused voice that doesn’t quite match the mischief in his eyes.

“I-...” FUCK, he’s beautiful. Lean muscles flexing with every movement, shaggy hair falling over his face, and holy... The tight black boxers are NOT helping the whole “too turned on to function” situation.

“Oh... Sorry, I read somewhere that skin-to-skin contact is better for warmth. You’d probably know better than me, I guess.” He grins, as though this entire thing is nonchalant and completely normal. “I can help you if you’d like~”

“Uh nope, yeah, you’re right!! I’ll uh just... Can you close your eyes?” You are panicking. Every insecurity you’ve ever had is coming to bite you in the ass. You’re suddenly hyper aware of how much space your body takes up, remembering everything those stupid bitches in high school said about you.

“Y/n, you’ve seen me in that skin tight hero suit and you’ve patched up most of my body. It’s totally fine! PLUS, you’re sleeping in my bed, am I gonna have to close my eyes the whole night??” He jokes, not knowing that your shyness isn’t rooted in principle, but fear. Upon seeing your face, his smile falters and he autocorrects, “You know, I think you’re beautiful, but if you want me to turn around, I promise I will.”

“No, it’s-it’s fine. It’s okay. Wait- did you just call me beautiful?” You try to cover your shocked expression as you take off your sweater and slide off your fuzzy pajama pants. Sero is thankful your head is stuck in your sweater as his jaw practically drops. Oh fuck, he’s screwed. His eyes follow your curves from your chest, down your sides, to the pouch of your tummy and the plump fullness of your thighs... If he thought he was having trouble focusing before, there’s no way there’s gonna be enough blood in his brain when you’re half naked next to him... Speaking of... Shit, he’s hard... Okay, it’s fine, just tuck it in your waistband like you did back in school...

You climb into bed as quickly as you can, still keeping a few inches between you and Sero until he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. You squeak in surprise and he chuckles, “You can’t be warm unless you’re over here! C’mere.” He nestles his face into your hair and splays a hand across the curve of your lower back. Feeling very naked and very nervous, you shift in his hold and snuggle closer to the heat he gives off, but halt your motions when you feel him twitch against your thigh. Neither of you are breathing, praying the other didn’t notice the rock hard length pressed between your bodies. Somehow, in the time you spent essentially playing dead, you both fell asleep cuddled together.

Over the course of the night, you had shifted to straddle your leg over his torso and he had turned on his back with his hand resting on the space between your thigh and your butt. Sero was the first to stir from his slumber when he felt you move against him, a small whine escaping your parted lips as your hips rolled against his. Oh... OH... Is y/n-? oh fuck y/n is dreaming... and grinding on me... fuck, this shouldn’t feel so good... He tries his hardest to go back to sleep, but the feeling of your sleeping body brushing up against his cock keeps him wide awake. He was trying to stay perfectly still until he heard your tiny whisper “Hanta~”... His hips involuntarily thrust, drawing out the most sinful moan from your throat as the head of his dick added friction on your clit that woke you up. You start to move away, embarrassed and hoping to check that he’s still asleep, but Sero’s grip tightens around your thigh and presses you harder onto him.

“Good morning to you, too~... If you needed my help getting off, you could’ve just asked, babygirl~” The lust and sleep clouding his voiced, combined with the steady roll of his hips makes you whimper and tuck your face into his neck.

“Awww so shy~ You were moaning my name earlier. Why don’t we see how loud I can make you, princess?” He speaks lowly as he flips you onto your back, hovering over you.

“I- I... Please.” You breathe wrapping your legs around his waist and stare up at him, wiggling your hips and sliding your hands up his biceps.

“Can I- Can I kiss you? Are you sure you want this? I’ve had feelings for you since before I moved in and I just... I never want to hurt you.” Cupping your cheek and searching your face for any hesitation, Sero starts succumbing to his own insecurities. He never wants to hurt you, and he knows he isn’t the flashy hero some of his friends seem to be... He needs to hear you say it.

“Sero... Yes~. I want you, please kiss me... I feel the same way. Please~...” Upon hearing your confession, Sero slotted his lips against yours. The kiss was sweet, gentle. Breathing each other in felt so right, so natural, and you followed his lead when he slid his hold to the back of your neck to deepen the kiss. His hand drifted down, following the curve of your breasts, tracing your sides and resting on the pouch of your tummy. Just as you were starting to feel self conscious, Sero groans and moves to kiss your neck, mumbling “You’re so beautiful, y/n. Fuck, so perfect. You feel so soft, I need you so bad~” The whimper he draws from you when he sucks a deep mark into the column of your throat is absolutely lewd, you can barely believe it came from you. He kisses his way down your body, leaving hickies along your skin and squeezing every inch he can get his hands on. You look down at him, his eyes dark with lust and admiration as he leaves opened mouthed kisses along your inner thighs, making you more needy than you thought possible. He strokes his thumb along your clothed slit and moans at your wetness.

“Fuck- you’re so wet for me, angel. I want to taste you, you’re so cute like this. Let’s take these off, yeah?” He looks to you and hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties, asking for permission and grinning like an idiot when you lift your hips to help him. Before you can say anything, he’s prying your legs open and diving in, moaning as he laps your slit and sucks your clit into his mouth. You run your fingers through his hair and grip him, pulling him into you and grinding against his face. His groans send vibrations straight to your core, pinning your hips with one arm and sliding two fingers into your dripping cunt.

“M-more!! Oh god, please Sero, just like that- I want more!” You moan so prettily for him, but he wants something more. He releases your clit with a pop and leans up, stilling his fingers inside you and wrapping his free hand around your neck. The pressure and dominance has you clenching around his fingers, and he takes notice.

“You either call me Hanta or Papi, nothing else. You understand? I want you to say my name when you cum.” He commands, and sends a shiver down your spine. “Oh you like that, huh?~ I can feel you squeezing my fingers. Why don’t you tell me what you want, baby?~”

Your brain goes hazy when he leans in and places little love bites on your neck and collarbones. “PAPI~! Yes, I love it! Please fuck me, I want to feel you, I need moreee~” You pant as he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you unbearably empty.

“Oh baby, I’ll fill you up, don’t worry. But first, why don’t you suck my cock?~” He strips himself of his boxers and flips the two of you, pulling you on top of him. He’s so long, just thick enough to stretch you and reach every amazing spot inside of you. The sight of his hard length has you drooling, anticipating feeling the weight of him on your tongue. You give the head a few kitten licks, relishing in the way he groans and twitches in your hand. He laces his fingers at the base of your head and lets you set your own pace, wrapping your plush lips around him. Bobbing your head up and down, running your tongue along the vein on the underside of his dick and swirling it around the head- you love seeing his reactions. The way his breathing increases and his hips buck when you hollow your cheeks. He looks so pretty like this, you can’t help but rub your thighs together for some kind of friction. Luckily, he notices how desperate you’ve gotten and pulls you up to straddle him with one hand still on your hair and the other gripping your hip, calloused fingers digging in and massaging the fat there.

“As much as I want to cum in that perfect little mouth, I think my baby needs to be filled, yeah?” He fists his cock and strokes the head through your wetness, gathering your slick and making you involuntarily grind against him. “Beg for my cock, babygirl~, tell Papi what you want.” The smirk on his face is utterly sinful, teasing you and enjoying the fucked out expression on your beautiful face.

“PLEASE I want your cock, I wanna be full, just fuck me already!!! Please stop teasing me Hantaaa~” Just as you grind your hips down onto him, he thrusts into you, cutting off your pleading with a needy moan. “Ah~ fuck- so full, so full, oh my god! Yes Papi~!”

“Oh shit angel, fuck- you feel so good.” Hanta grabs your hips and helps you slowly fuck yourself on him, “Just like that, baby, just like that. Ride my fucking cock. Fuck- you’re so tight...”

The dirty talk pouring out of Hanta’s mouth, combined with the stretch of his hot length stirring up your insides, you find yourself embarrassingly close to climax already. Your first orgasm hits you like a train, completely knocking the air out of your lungs and causing you to collapse onto Hanta’s chest. He seizes the opportunity to flip the two of you, holding you underneath him and fucking you into the mattress.

“Ah ah ahhhhh~ Hantaaa~ I can’t! I can’t, I just came, it’s too much!!! oh FUCK Papi!!!” You feel the tears welling up in your eyes from the overstimulation and pleasure.

“Yes you can, babygirl. You’re taking me so well, you’re such a good girl. I know you love it, I can feel your pussy flutter around me. So honest, angel. You’re so perfect like this- fuck.” Hanta grips the back of your thighs and pushes your knees to the bed, hitting even deeper within you. The head of his cock kisses your cervix with every thrust and makes you scream out, nails digging into his back, and egging him on.

“Come on, mi amor, cum with me. I know you can, I can tell you’re so fucking close... Cum on my cock, that’s right. Cum for me.” His long fingers reach down and rub quick circles on your clit. He leans in to sink his teeth into the junction of your neck and your shoulder, sending you over the edge into your climax. Your vision goes white and you clamp down around him, cunt spasming as you squirt all over his thighs and abs.

“F-fuck!!! That’s so fucking hot~ I’m gonna- Ah~” He fills you to the brim with his sticky release, the warmth spreading through your core and coating your walls. Hanta releases your legs and lays on top of you, sweaty bodies pressed together until he comes down from his high.

“That was so amazing, angel. You were so good for me. Such a pretty baby, all mine...” He pulls back to kiss your temple and rolls over, petting your hair and lightly scratching your back.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me... I always want to be yours.” You giggle, bubbly at his claim on you and still buzzing from your high. You curl up into his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist and holding him close. “Mine.”

“Mmhmm, all yours.” He breathes a chuckle and places a kiss to your hairline. “I’m glad I can warm you up, lovebug.” He smiles as your breathing evens out, falling asleep with you in his arms.

[well-its-not-human-anymore]

Hi Hi!!!! So I've been following your account for a little while now and I love every single comedy bomb you drop on what you write so I was wondering....

How would the boys react to their S/O who is usually reserved when at the lair, doing a full 180 when at April's? Like they could be April's roommate or something?....

Like crackhead energy, dishing out memes and vines and literally having a duel with Casey about leftovers in the fridge?... Yeah I know it's very specific 💀

I don't know.....the idea just popped into my head but I lack the creativity and comedy skills for that...so I was wondering if you could do something with this?.....

It's totally fine, if not 😁😁

This is... 100% me. I love this and I'm gonna pour my soul into it. Also I have started mentally referring to these as comedy bombs and I refuse to stop.

Also, I hope you don't mind that I wrote these in oneshot form instead of bullet points. It just made more sense for my brain.

TMNT Oneshots

The boys with a partner whose reserved at the lair but an absolute crack gremlin at home 🤣

Donatello

Donnie may have been a man of science, all logic and facts and numbers and things. But he absolutely believed that everyone had three separate faces, you were direct proof of that theory. While the purple terrapin had known you for nearly a year you’d only started dating a month ago and it shocked him that he was still uncovering new things about you. He loved it, sure, but it had a tendency to give him figurative whiplash.

He’d always known you to be calm and collected, maybe even a bit shy. He swore you’d explode if more than one person tried to talk to you at the same time. So it wasn’t an over exaggeration for him to say that your behavior at home nearly made him break his neck.

He was only there to help April fix a bug in her laptop and to confirm your next date, he was excited to see you since you’d had no contact in person for a week because of your schedules. Just lots of phone calls and exchanged text messages. You both missed each other like crazy and your roommate had neglected to inform you that your boyfriend was coming over.

Hers was already there and he was driving you up the wall, you’d never actually thought about committing a murder but Casey was pushing you very close to the edge of snapping. And he might as well have crane-kicked you off your cliff of patience and into the rushing river of “you little fucking shit I’m gonna piss on your grave” below. You hadn’t even heard Donnie come in through the window much less his conversation with April over her computer.

All you knew was that Casey had come parading into your room like a tyrant eating the leftovers in the fridge that you had specifically put your name on. That did it. Your eyes had skimmed over the top of your textbook to meet the asshole in front of you.

“Casey?”

He couldn’t speak through the mouthful he was trying to chew and grunted in pathetic response.

“Is that my cheeseburger?”

You’d never seen a living person imitate a pug’s facial structure so well, the man’s eyes bugged out of his head and he tossed the takeout box on your desk before turning and bolting out of your room. You followed about two steps behind with a bottle of shampoo in your hand. No, you weren’t entirely sure where you’d grabbed it from, all you knew was that it was your weapon. And it quickly became a very messy problem when it missed your target (Casey’s head) and slammed into the wall, exploding on impact.

You didn’t think you’d thrown it that hard.

“April April help help help helpppppppppppppp-'' The two on the couch had looked up during the chase throughout the apartment, Donnie was mostly curious at what Casey was screaming about. Not a lot usually made the guy make that noise. He was then distracted by April grabbing the laptop and passing it to him, she then clambered over his legs to sit behind him.

“YOU UGLY ASS CROISSANT! FUCKING PANINI HEAD- IT HAD MY NAME ON IT YOU DAFT AVACADO!”

Your boyfriend almost went vertical upon watching you tackle Casey to the floor and knee him in the groin. You shook the terrified man under you and slammed him a little harder into the rug.

“Touch my shit again and I’m gonna make the beaches of Normandy look like a goddamn family vacation.”

Then you climbed off of him and stood, brushing your disheveled t-shirt off with a huff. Donnie caught your attention and you raised your head to grin excitedly at him.

“Hi Dove! April didn’t tell me you were coming over,” you practically skipped over to the couch to peck him on the cheek, “I missed ya, are we still on for Saturday?”

He nodded in complete shock, his gaze flitting from you to Casey, who was still wheezing on the floor and clutching his dick.

“Uhhh yeah! Yeah, yep, Still good for Saturday. Uhm, completely unrelated question, where the hell did you learn to grapple like that?”

You shrugged absentmindedly, already walking to the hall closet to grab cleaning supplies for the puddle of shampoo in the walkway.

“Just kinda picked it up I guess? I’ve watched you guys train enough.”

Leonardo

See, Leo had always known that you were hiding something from him. Be it your true personality or some deep dark secret. He wasn’t really in a rush to find out, you’d tell him when you were ready. The leader enjoyed your quiet disposition anyways, you gave good advice and liked to meditate with him, what more could he ask for? What more could he want?

Well, maybe if you got along better with his family, although he supposed that wasn’t your fault, you always had been a bit shy. Even six months into your relationship with him, Leo only hoped that you’d warm up to his brothers eventually. You seemed to do alright with Splinter, that was a plus for the situation. It wasn’t that you were mean or impolite to the others, you were just… avoidant. Distant, quiet, whatever word you wanted to use. You just didn’t seem comfortable at the lair.

He was excited that April had asked to host a game night though, maybe you’d come out of your shell (haha, see what I did there?) and socialize, even for a little bit. They’d all shown up a few minutes early to make sure April didn’t need help with anything, she’d assured them that everything was handled and made sure to inform Leo that you would be back shortly with Casey from your snack run. Mikey had joked that you’d ditched the get together to avoid them but they all knew it ran the possibility of not being a joke.

You unlocked the door and held it open so Casey could get inside without tripping himself before entering yourself and kicking your shoes off. Leo looked up to meet your eyes and you sent him a wild grin, your entire face lit up with amusement.

“Hi babes! Are you ready to get your ass kicked at Monopoly?”

All the poor turtle could do was nod.

“Good. I did grab drinks by the way, April there should be a mixer in the cooler bag, Donnie there’s some of that lemon lime stuff that you said you wanted to try, Mikey, orange crush as usual, Raph I tried to go for Dr. Pepper but they were out so I figured that root beer was a safe second. And Leo they had a new boba flavor that you haven’t had yet so I grabbed one. If you don’t like it then you can have mine, I just have the peach royal.”

Beverages were tossed and they were lucky that their surprise didn’t throw off their catching skills. You and April shared a quick word in the kitchen as you took your coat off and ran a hand through your hair.

After some arguments team captains were decided and Donnie nearly had a heart attack when you picked him instead of Leo or either of your friends. He even went so far as to point at himself to make sure you weren’t joking. You declared that while you loved your boyfriend his morals were too strong to be competitive, Donnie’s were not, he said so himself.

They were all surprised that you’d remembered that conversation.

It wasn’t until halfway through the game that things started getting heated, you and Mikey were nearly jumping across the table at each other. And it visibly took all of your strength to not burst out laughing when he started yelling.

"YOU KNOW WHAT? THIS IS CHEATING! YOU'RE CHEATING! GET ON TOP OF THE FRIDGE!"

April and Casey were snorting into their arms as you got to your feet and walked towards the kitchen, making a poor attempt at climbing the appliance.

"THIS HOUSE IS A FUCKING NIGHTMARE!"

Raphael

Raph had always been under the impression that you were never really 100% yourself around him, he knew for a fact that you weren’t when you stayed over. He’d never seen someone so aggressively avoid someone, except himself of course. You were his partner of almost a year and it seemed like you were never going to let your true self shine. However you did seem to lighten up when you were alone with him, he supposed that was normal, but you may as well have been a pair of old earbuds that only work when you held them a certain way at the lair.

He honestly hadn’t expected that to change tonight, not given the text that Casey had sent him informing him of April’s recent breakup with whatever guy she’d been dating. So when he climbed in through the window and saw both you and Casey sitting on the floor in front of the bathroom he really didn’t think that the words out of your mouth would be-

“April you’ve got another twenty minutes of this then I’m ripping the door off the hinges!”

Casey shot you a look and you shrugged nonchalantly before getting to your feet and walking over to your confused boyfriend.

“Hey, sorry about this. Casey only texted you as a last resort if he needed someone to stop me from tearing the door off.”

Raph found that peculiar, “Uh, couldn’t he do it himself?”

The man in question looked up from his spot on the floor.

“Nah dude, they’re crazy. Last time I tried stopping them from doing something they nearly knocked my damn tooth out while screaming, and I quote, “If you put your hands on me I’m gonna fucking rip your face off” and quite frankly I don’t have the balls to test that.”

“No no dude, that’s valid. I wouldn’t either. Babe, why are you so-”

You raised an eyebrow at him over a glass of water, “Violent? I’m not Raph. These two just have little bitch feelings.”

He found it hard not to laugh at that and fifteen minutes later when you left his side to approach the door again it sent him reeling.

“This shit’s temporary April. You’ve got nice teeth and a fat ass, stuff your feelings down!”

Michelangelo

There would never be a time where Mikey wasn’t a prankster with you, it was just simply non-negotiable. You were cool with that and he was aware, he was also aware that no pranks were to be pulled at the lair. So he’d reign it in while you visited, just for a short while. But you’d never said anything about the apartment and Mikey was a creature of opportunity.

Unfortunately Leo talked him out of it and forced him not to pull anything while they visited. The leader was already on edge so when he walked in with the others following closely behind you were the first person to see him. Your eyes caught Mikey’s instantly and you might as well have been telepathic at that moment. But you took one look at Leo’s solid, angry face and seized your moment.

They weren’t at all ready for the scream.

“GET YOUR FUCKIN’ DOG BITCH!”

And they also weren’t ready for Mikey’s response of, “It don’t bite.”

And Leo was not ready for the pillow that got whipped at his face at incredibly high speed.

“YES IT DO-”

So when Leo finally realized that they were yelling at him his mood did not improve at all and in fact declined sharply into a pit of “oh fuck”. And that was how you ended up on Mikey’s shoulder getting dragged away from any sort of repercussion for your actions.

These got a little short near the end but I hope you like 'em and I hope I was able to capture what you had in mind! 😁

-Mars 🌠

[lexiwright]

Building Jealousy

Benny watts x reader

A/N- so hey first benny sorry. This was requested by Anonymous with the second prompt. This is my first in a while so I'm a bit rust but I really hope it's well received and yeah.

Also a side note that isn't import but when writing this Ive been listening to ”You” by petit biscuit. I'm not sure why but any time I've been reading anything to do with benny or writing him this is my go to song. But yes thanks for reading and ya.

Word count - 1720

Warnings - none

Prompt 2 “your jealous aren't you.”

You weren’t amazing at chess. You knew that. Next to people like Beth Harmon and Benny watts you were well aware of the fact. But it was an interesting game which you did good enough when you put your mind to it that you had entered a few tournaments over the years just for the adrenaline rush. You’ve managed to build up to a good enough level that you were state champion for a while but it only lasted a little while.

You’ve known benny a while. And Beth too. You were closer with benny and for a time you thought maybe the pair of yous could become something more. But as soon as Beth came into the frame you lost his interest and you went back to just admiring him without him returning any ounce of feelings to you.

You met Beth in Mexico. Before the great loss against Borgov. You barely got past the second round and lost in the third but hey you weren’t to bothered. But you had noticed how often Beth appeared alone and you decided to see if she wanted company. She seemed to take to you fairly well and yous quickly became friends. After her mum died you comforted her for a little while before you both had to go home. You understood she needed a bit of time and you went to New York for a little. You’d called up benny in advance who wasn’t doing much that weekend so offered his living room.

Accepting the offer and hoping to get to spend some more time with the man you arrived outside his house at a quarter to midnight. Shattered out of your mind from travel. You came in and greeted him as an old friend before you sat down at his table that displayed his board and had a look to see what he was playing.

It took you a second before you realised he’d been playing Beths last game with borgov. It’s angered you a little bit you tried to not care.

“How was the trip Y/N? “ asked benny as he rounded the table to the kitchen for some glasses.

“Nothing special. How’ve you been keeping?” You yawned and watched as he poured you a glass of milk.

“Ah, you know. Not a lot to do around here. Just waiting for the next tournament as always. I hear you met with Beth Harmon. What do you think of her?” He asked. Placing the glasses in the microwave for you both.

“Of course. She seemed nice. We got along well enough. Shame about her mum though but her playing is beyond amazing.” You accepted the glass of warm milk as you spoke and failed to notice as he tensed at your praise of the redhead.

He pushed his hair back and sat down in front of you and watched for a second as you took a sip of your milk. Studying your face with admiration.

Leaning forward, elbows on the table, he leaned his face on hand, two fingers tapping his cheek. Something you noticed he did when he was in thought. You tossed him a quizzical look before questioning him.

“What?”

He took a breathe and held it for a second before speaking in a gentle tone. “You look tired. Are you okay? “

You chuckled at him. Thinking he was joking. “Well, Benny I have just got off a plane so of course, I’m tired.”

But he stopped you. “No. It’s more than that.” You didn’t know what to say and just stared at him confused. He cleared his throat and moved back and gestured at the board. Still set up with Beth's last match. And spoke, “care for a few speed games?”

You rolled your eyes. You rarely win against him at speed chess. You know he was only doing this to show off. But you indulged him and let him flex his bored muscles. Yous played about ten rounds, winning two and drawing one while the king in a loose black striped shirt won 7. And you were sure he was going easy on you but you didn’t mind. It’s still fun.

Once he was sure you knew who was the best player and had finished your warm milk he suggested time for bed. Which you gladly accepted. He left you with the blow-up but knew you were too stubborn to let him do it.

You said goodnight and melted into one of the comfy seats rather than taking the blow-up bed and found yourself involuntarily drifting to sleep where you sat.

.

.

.

You woke with a start as you were shaken awake. You were on the plane and the air hostess was shaking you awake. Clipping in before landing you looked out the window. You were landing in New York again. Only this time you weren’t going to stay at Benny's. Beth was there now.

It had been a few weeks or so since you last stayed. You smiled at the memory of being woken up by a laughing Benny cause you hadn’t made it into bed last time.

You were staying at a hotel a while from Bennys. There was a small tournament that you thought would be fun to go too.

After leaving New York last time you’d called up Beth to see how she was doing. She had Harry beltik with her so at least she wasn’t alone.

You ended up taking for hours. Going over matches verbally for the fun of it and discussing favourite theory’s. This turned into a habit every few days and yous both seemed to get along well.

She called when Harry decided to leave. You could tell she was upset but didn’t want to push it too much. She called before her match with Benny. After the losing rounds of speed chess and you told her not to worry. And she called when she beat him. And then the next day when she told you she was going to New York with him.

You were happy for then although a little sad you wouldn’t get to spend time with him but you understood why.

You had got there a few days earlier so when you heard cleo was in town you opted to spend some time with her.

It had been a week or so and you had been invited to benny's along with Cleo and some boys. You went and was happy to catch up with Beth and Cleo.

You didn’t notice a dismayed benny who was disappointed your attention wasn’t on him.

He thought he could win you over by playing Beth in speed chess but even then he lost spectacularly. You sat out for the games. Not feeling like losing today. But when you and Cleo applauded beths wins. You failed to see just how livid he was that she impressed you more.

He went to bed sourly that night. Tossing and turning. Unable to get the beaming pride for Beth he saw on your face as you clapped her and not him.

Your third match of the tournament had been the next day. Normally if you think your gonna struggle you call benny and get some advice while you listen to him speak. His voice soothing you from nerves even if you end up loosing. But he knew that the match was today and was subtly waiting for the phone to ring. However when it did this time Beth picked up and you felt that you’d annoyed benny enough over the years so you decided to talk to Beth instead.

She was fine with this. Beth is proud of being needed. However, she ( unlike you) noticed the way benny drummed his fingers on the counter and stared at her as she said the first few words “Oh, hello Y/N...”

she noticed as his pupils dilated and the drumming stopped.

He had expected her to hand him the phone after that but when she didn’t he couldn’t understand why. And when Beth started talking about the game you were about to play he could feel as something boiled in him. He was who you needed. Not Beth. Yes, Beth was better than him but you needed him. Benny like being able to give you that little bit of ease before a scary match.

He waited a little while longer in case Beth gave him the phone. Till he realised she wasn’t going too.

“Is that Y/N?” He questioned harshly.

Beth just nodded and continued the conversation.

Benny couldn’t take it. And marched over to stand in front of Beth. “What does she want?” He asked. Even though he knew.

“Well she’s got her match today and she said she was nervous,” Beth said deadpanning.

The look on Benny watts faces told Beth something was afoot. Then she realised and gave him a smug look as she said her next words slow and loud enough for Y/N to hear.

“Your jealous aren’t you?”

He froze for a moment. Realising what she said was right.

He barely registered as Beth spoke to you again apologizing “sorry Y/N. I’ve got a green ogre here that I’m going to pass you too. Good luck for the match. “

She preset to phone into his hand and moved for him to sit in her seat.

He held the phone to his ear to hear your voice and he frowned.

“Benny what’s wrong”

He paused thinking before speaking with an almost whiny tone.

“ you think you can drop me cause I was beaten by Beth Harmon at speed chess, no, uh uh. I'm here to stay Y/N L/N and I won’t sit back and let you go off to someone else. No. Your mine got it.”

You were speechless. You hadn’t realised benny felt like thins. He realised what he said.

“ well eh you know, your not my property that’s not what I mean. I just.”

He took a deep breath and spoke with confidence. “ I need you Y/N. You're like the queen to my king. I feel I’m nothing without you. So please don’t brush me off for someone better.”

You smiled over the phone and he could hear it in your voice. “ I’d never brush you off benny.”

He sighed in relief and smiled.

[brockadoodles]

kiss me at midnight - m. tkachuk

AN: The way i can’t WAIT for the season to start so I can gif short haired Matty... Anyways. uh, I woke up today and chose violence, so here’s a New Year’s fic with one of our favorites. Maybe one day I’ll stop posting at 1 am? Let me know what you think! 

Word Count: 2395

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and drinking, otherwise it’s fluffy. 

“Ten dollars says they’re going to make out within the next five minutes.” You quickly turned your head at the voice. You smiled slightly at Matthew, nodding at him to take a seat next to you. You had just met him that evening and had somehow ended up running into him multiple times throughout the night. You laughed softly at his statement as you swirled your rum and coke in your hand. You didn’t even have to look in the direction that he was pointing toward to know exactly who he was talking about. Your roommate had ditched you in favor of his teammate over an hour ago, and in her defense, he was cute and better one of you not to spend New Year’s Eve sulking alone at the bar. 

“I give them three, you’re welcome to hang out and wager me on it.” You joked. Matthew eyed you curiously, anyone that was willing to make a bet with him that quickly was someone he wanted to get to know. He caught the attention of the bartender and ordered himself a drink. He glanced over at your near-empty glass and had another made for you, making sure to tell the bartender to add it to his own tab and not yours. Your friend had very clearly left you to your own devices and he had no intention of doing the same thing, the least he could offer is buying you one drink. You just smiled at him in thanks as another rum and coke was put in your hands to replace the now empty one. 

“Would ya look at that, guess neither of us wins.” Matthew mused as he took a sip of his drink. You quickly turned your head to where your roommate was now pressed against the pool table, kissing his teammate. You rolled your eyes before turning your attention back to Matthew, who was inarguably cute. No harming in shooting your shot with someone you likely wouldn’t see again in a crowded bar in Calgary on New Year’s Eve, right? 

“Bummer. To think I was going to bet you a New Year’s Kiss.” You shrugged, raising your eyebrow a bit toward Matthew, who now had a smirk settling in on his features. He leaned against the bar as he took a step closer to you, positioning his body between your thighs. It wasn’t uncomfortable, you actually found yourself smiling softly at him as you placed a hand on his waist and tugged him slightly closer to you, opening the door for whatever would come next.

“Me and you at midnight? Deal.” You rolled your eyes at him and pat his side, pushing him back just enough to give you some more room. The conversation started flowing after that, and you found yourself getting lost in the stories he was telling. Something about Matthew was captivating. You could blame it on his looks, maybe the way his eyes lit up when he smiled at you, or the way his hair was just long enough to see that it was a bit curly, or maybe it was the way you were sitting close together now, with his leg brushed against yours under the table that you had moved to an hour before. But deep down you knew it wasn’t just because he was some hot stranger who you were hopefully stealing a midnight kiss from, you and Matthew had a connection that you couldn’t quite explain further than it being what everyone describes in shows that you never bothered to believe in. You could only hope that he felt it, too.

Except, he must not have, because when the clock counted down and you prepared yourself to finally kiss him, he just held you close. Matthew tucked you under his arm as the crowd started cheering and he made no move to kiss you, something that even in your drunken state was causing disappointment. What you didn’t know was that he wanted to kiss you more than anything that night, but he wasn’t about to cross a line you had drawn while drunk. He wanted to make sure it was okay before anything happened, so instead, he settled for a soft kiss to your forehead and exchanging numbers as he put you in an uber back to your apartment. Leaving you drunk and confused as if you had just read the signs entirely wrong. 

You spent the next 11 months with Matthew, spending nearly all of your time together. You went to his games, you met each other’s friends, you spent nights with each other and there were so many frustrating pent up moments where if someone would have asked you what you were to each other, you genuinely would have had no answer. Matthew frustrated you in ways that you couldn’t pinpoint because his signals were caught up in the crossfires and you weren’t sure what you meant to him. You knew he cared about you, and sometimes his hand would linger just a bit too long on the small of your back, or he would fall asleep with his arms just enough around you that you would convince yourself that he felt what you had felt for him the entire time. 

You spent months dancing back and forth with Matty, replying that New Year’s Eve night over and over in your head, wondering why he never kissed you. Then you spent months to accept what he was giving you, a friend that cared about you and would do anything for you, but one that simply didn’t harbor the same feelings you held close to your chest. You couldn’t fault him for not feeling the same way, feelings sometimes don’t have a rhyme or reason as to why they happen. Sometimes the hand you’re dealt results in a win, and other times you bet your entire heart only to watch it get cashed out by someone else who didn’t care to have it in the first place. But you had spent a year waiting around for him, and at this point, you just needed to know. 

Matthew answered the phone quickly when he saw that it was you calling. He had just gotten back from a small get together with some of his friends from back home. He smiled softly as he greeted you, breathing a content sigh of relief as he settled down into what would likely be a long chat with you. You were Matthew’s favorite person and even though he hated being on the phone, he’d talk with you for hours about nothing if that was what you wanted. 

“Do you know how there’s that saying about how if you spend New Years with someone, that’s who you’re spending the year with?” Were the first words out of your mouth, acting on a stint of courage that your friends had practically shoved into you the entire time you were with them. They all wanted you and Matty to get your shit together and confess, and you’d be lying if them pressing you wasn’t a factor in this impulsive late-night phone call to the person in question. 

“Yeah, I have heard that one.” Matty smiled into his phone. 

“I have this theory. I think it’s actually that who you miss the most on New Years’ is who you’ll spend the year with.” You were glad this was just a phone call and that matty wasn’t there to see your face. You had been dancing around something with him for so long now, that it felt like you were stuck in an endless game of poker where no one was winning. But you were the dealer now, and you were giving Matthew the cards that would give him a royal flush if he wanted it, and god you hoped he wanted it. 

“You’re going to need to explain that, sweetheart.” 

“We spent last New Years’ together, and you didn’t kiss me. We spent an entire year together and you didn’t kiss me, but there’s something here right? Because I feel like there is, and even though you’re in St. Louis and I’m here all I want is for you to miss me just enough that you’ll come home and finally kiss me.” 

Matthew swore that he felt his heart lurch in his chest as he processed your words. You, the person he had spent the last year getting to know, spending nights together on your couch watching bad reality TV and arguing over what take out to order. You, the person that he thought about more often than not, so much so that he had made a routine of calling you after every away game, just because it was calming to hear your voice on the phone. You, the person that he had so desperately wanted to kiss the year before but didn’t because it wouldn’t have been right with both of you too intoxicated to make that decision. He had spent the last year assuming that you thought of him as just a friend and he had been sulking about it for months. 

“Holy shit, I didn’t think you were into me.” Was absolutely not the most eloquent way that he could have responded to what you had just said. Matthew internally groaned at himself as he listened to the silence that was now coming from your side of the conversation. He was panicking, racking his brain for the right words to string together to make sure you knew he felt exactly the same way as you did. For some reason, just telling you that didn’t feel good enough when you had just about taken his heart right out of his chest from another country away with your confession. 

“Fuck, that was not what I meant to say.” He ran a hand over his face, and he was thankful for once you had asked to just talk on the phone and not FaceTime. 

“I really miss you. And everything you’re feeling, I feel it too.” He finally settled on it, hoping that it was enough to convey his emotions. He knew he wanted you, he had waited a year for this moment to come to its head. A year of him subtly standing by your side, itching to reach his hand out to yours but not daring to make the final touch. A year of him hoping you wouldn’t meet someone else that could take up the space that he desperately wanted to occupy. He spent a year waiting for you, he wasn’t going to wait any longer. Before he could stop himself he grabbed his laptop, pulling up flights as you started to speak again. 

“God, Matty, there have been so many times I almost told you how I felt.” You breathed out. He could tell exactly how you were feeling, he could hear the relief in your voice. He knew that type of relief, the instant gratification a person feels when they give someone their time and effort and it’s all reciprocated. He knew that feeling because as soon as you mentioned you wanted to kiss him, he felt that same relief settle into his chest, a feeling he had been craving for so long now. A feeling he could act on in a matter of hours thanks to a ridiculously over-expensive flight from St. Louis back to Calgary. 

“Can you pick me up tomorrow morning? From the airport?” He asked. You froze in bed, pulling your phone from your ear and looking at the time. It was late, already past midnight which meant it was even later for him. Your heart was racing and you felt like this was some hazy dream that you were bound to wake up from disappointed, the same dream you had experienced probably a hundred times over the last year. Matty was your entire world, and it didn’t feel real that he was finally something tangible. So you told him yes. You told him, yes and you counted down the hours until you got to see him, barely sleeping at all. 

You had never been the type to think you’d be standing outside of security at an airport, living out some terrible moment from a romantic comedy as you waited for the person you loved to come through the gates. But there you were, in one of his old sweatshirts, nervously tapping your foot as you eyed every single person that walked through.

You were totally sure that anyone watching you probably was rolling your eyes at the look on your face, the same lovesick look you see in the very movies you often complain about. But you didn’t care because strangers walking through an airport clutching their coffee at 7 am who you would never see again didn’t matter. Everyone had their own destination that day, their own trip that they were making for their own reasons, and your reason was walking toward you, looking at you like you were the only thing that he could see and that was what mattered. 

Matty dropped his bag to the ground as you jogged up to him. You wrapped your arms tightly around his waist and tucked your head against his chest, taking a moment to listen to the steady beat of his heart, the same steady beating that you had listened to so many times before not knowing that it beat only for you. 

“I’m going to kiss you now because I’ve been waiting for a year to do it and I don’t think I can handle waiting any longer.” Matty grabbed your cheek, pulling your gaze up to meet his as his other arm tightened around you. 

“You can kiss me whenever you want now, Matty.” You murmured, letting your eyes flutter closed as you leaned in and pressed your lips lightly to his. You melted into the kiss, letting him pull you closer to deepen it just a little as the early morning travelers kept walking around you. You almost didn’t regret the time spent wishing for this moment, because in a way, the person you spent New Year’s with the year before was the person you spent the year with, and now you got to spend another year with him, being fully and completely each others. It wasn’t midnight, but somehow 7 am felt better than midnight ever could have.  

[beoneofus]

HEADCANONS

MARKO

SFW

Marko has a chaotic personality. He'd be the one to be super flirty, and slightly pervy. He can also be kind of a dick, but once he gets used to someone, or takes a great liking to them, his nicer side shows more often than not.

Expect lots of dirty or dark humored jokes. I feel like this idiot would make unapologetic jokes about Lincoln's death or maybe even the influenza pandemic that he lived through. Very twisted.

He's definitely a messy eater, just like Paul - maybe more brutal though. Puts no hesitation into ripping a person apart. I can see him letting out a satisfied sigh as soon as the first squirt of blood sprays from his victims eyes.

Adding onto that - he's a brutal killer, in general. Although David comes up with lots of theories and ideas, Marko has to be second at being very creative with plans himself.. when it comes to murder, I mean. Expect the most sadistic kill from this fella.

He's definitely a sweetheart when it comes to loving someone, though. A huge flirt! But can be thoughtful and considerate, too.

I see Marko as the type to continuously get gifts for his mate or significant other. It's one of his big ways of showing affection, along with getting them their own jacket to decorate - or, if they already have one, he'd help them pick out the patches, paints, pins, colorful threads, etc.

Also adding onto that! He'd be more than happy to stick by their side no matter what. Star gazing? He's in. Nature walk? Kinda boring, but he can make do. Anything involving them, involves him. The two would be two vampires in a coffin, ya' know?

I feel like his favorite color would be like a creamy, sherbet orange or a sunset kind of orange. Marko is chaotic and so is the color orange, in my opinion, so it'd definitely suit him.

Most definitely an artist. Not drawing or coloring, but moreso of one that's into sewing, spray painting, graphic art, etc. He just would have a huge passion for it.

Horror movies are boring to him so we'll move onto Comedy, which are his favorite. I feel like if he were in current times, his favorite movies would involve Kevin Hart and/or Ice Cube. Kevin would definitely remind him of Paul and Ice Cube would be David LMAO.

If it's during the 80's, his favorite movies would probably include pretty boys like Rob Lowe and Matt Dillon being idiotic, yet hot jerks. Or Molly Ringwald being a total sassy babe. I feel like that's all he'd focus on, besides the corny, ( sometimes well thought out ) jokes.

This guy would have between a Chaotic and slightly calm music taste. Like, 90% wild shit and 10% calm for when he's having a good, relaxing day.

I don't think he'd listen to The Doors. That's definitely more of David's go to. I feel like Marko would be more into stuff like The Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin ( Paul too ), Iron Maiden - just a crazy mix of all that.

One day, I feel like he'd play Twisted Sister just to piss off Paul, but would actually end up vibing to a few songs.

Would definitely listen to Fleetwood Mac on more relaxed days.

I think his favorite animal would be a cat. Cats can be chaotic, just like him. He'd probably get an orange tabby, not because orange is his favorite color, but because they'd share the same personality and energy.

Would most definitely bat the fucking toys around with his cat. He'd get entertained by the jingling/rattling sound. Marko is EASILY distracted by the dumbest things.

If he ever reads, it's literally picture books. He isn't dumb, but words aren't for him. He isn't the kind of guy to make a whole visualization in his brain - it's just too much work and effort.

If he were to go to one of those children's museums with Laddie and the guys, I can see him going for the hand puppets. Would NOT miss the chance on putting on a whole, dramatic show with Laddie.

Although him and the guys like take out, I feel like Marko would be head over heels in love with pizza. The kind with five cheeses, pepperoni and an extra topping he'd just throw on for added flavor. He just radiates pizza fanatic energy.

This guy? Party animal. He's the kind of man to jump onto a chandelier and swing from it. I can see him jumping on top of a table, too, and just full on strip teasing people. Would honestly just chug the whole house of liquor through one of those booze-hoses. I don't see him getting real sexual at a party, but he'd probably have multiple hickies lining his neck ( if he's single ).

Man, don't get me started on nights that he's stoned. Munchies, JUST LIKE PAUL. Lots of eating animal crackers, cheetos and little caramel candies. Dozing off every five minutes. Paul slapping him awake, only for him to jump up and nearly behead his brother from being startled.

To be honest, I don't think Marko would be good with trust after being staked by Edgar. He'd be on more high alert, and would have more walls up. I think it'd take a little while to get passed them, too, when he first meets someone. Not LONG, but maybe two or three months.

I feel like he'd be the one to make random ass noises at random times, just like that one kid at the back of the class that randomly moans. He'd howl, squeak, snort - just any noise that'll get a giggle out of someone ( ahem, Paul ).

If he threw a party, expect a bouncy house. I see Marko being the least close to Laddie, but that doesn't necessarily mean he doesn't like him. So, child proof events will be a must. Plus, he'd want to get on it himself.

Adding on that ; expect different flips on the bouncy house. Backwards, forwards, all of that. At one point, or multiple, he'll almost break his neck like an idiot.

Okay so, as I said before, he wouldn't be the closest with Laddie. Although David wouldn't be too into kids, I feel like Marko would be afraid of getting attached because he wouldn't want to lose that child, one day - so he absolutely makes it his duty to push himself away.

He'll still treat Laddie like family, like get him presents and praise him when he's doing good, but other than that, he'd stay back. The fear was one he couldn't get rid of, and kind of just let it control him.

NSFW

Omg this animal. I feel like he'd be the kinkiest out of the four. Paul can be pretty kinky himself, but Marko would barely have any limits ( except scat and piss play, just ew ).

When going in, I feel like he'd be rough. Gripping the person's hips, before full on drilling into them - not even a warning. Just,, slam.

He'd do slow strokes at first, to build up frustration and anticipation, before speeding up greatly due to the demand of his lover. He definitely wouldn't mind getting bossed around.

This guy definitely has a praise kink. Tell him how good he's doing, and he'll either up his speed or go harder than before.

Pet names? Receiving or giving, it doesn't matter, but it's gonna happen. Expect both vulgar and sweet ones.

Marko is the type to keep a piece of cloth under the mattress he's using, just so he has a blindfold or bind whenever needed. He'd either block out someone's sight or tie up their hands, take your pick.

I feel like he'd prefer silky/lace binds instead of metal or rope ones. Although rough, he'd still be caring and wouldn't want his partner to get hurt.

Expect affectionate neck kisses, yet naughty skin nips if he's taking someone from behind. He'll roughly, yet slowly dig into them with full fledged force, all while giving attention to their neck.

Him and the other three boys are big on marking their territory, so he'll definitely leave hickey's where they're most visible.

Oh my god, he's definitely a little fucker that edges. He won't let someone cum until he's either close himself, or is feeling simply generous.

If anything, he'll finish up with cumming inside of his partner. If they're able to get pregnant... well, he won't feel bad. Not at all. That's a ‘ you ’ problem.

[parvulous-writings]

Medbay magic // Angela Ziegler (Mercy) x Reader

Request:    Ello, It's me,Ya bor. So I wanted to request a lil' something- Can we get a one shot where Angela (Mercy, for those of yall that don't know (: )nurses the reader back to health, but ends up falling for the reader with all the time they spend together? Then she's super confused about her feelings and doesn't know what to do about it, and she's too scared to tell the reader, but... turns out the reader has always kinda liked Angela too, and they confess to Angela-And they all live happily ever after- 😭🤌No but fr ily bor ❤

Requested by: @rey-is-not-a-skywalker​​

Summary: The reader and Doctor Ziegler develop feelings for each other :)

Warnings: N/A

Words: 1.3K

Notes: I would like to thank one of my old classmates for the word soup conversation :) My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!

Not my gif

You had been in the medical bay for nearly a week now. It wasn’t so bad, you supposed, you were being looked after well enough. You were frequently seen by several different doctors, one whom you greatly preferred over the others. Your favourite doctor was none other than Angela Ziegler, the best medic on the force. This wasn’t just your opinion either, this was just a common fact that everyone accepted. Under her care you had been nursed back from near death to almost perfect health. You swore on your own life that she was magic, it was like nothing you had ever seen. That wasn’t the only magic she used though, you were sure of it. She had managed to work her way into your heart as well, and you held her higher than any other. 

During your time in the medbay, you had several deep conversations with Angela, when there wasn’t all that much for her to do, and she needed something to keep her mind busy. Most of the time they started as nonsense words that she would respond to fondly- word soup, she dubbed it. It was mostly obscure facts or some line of thought that didn’t make much sense.  Angela’s personal favourite conversation was one from when you were half sedated due to the pain of your wounds, and you started spouting drivel about Sciron- an old figure in Greek mythology, who would ask passers by to help him was his feet.  When they knelt before him, he would suddenly give them a kick over the cliff into the sea, where the victim's body was devoured by a huge monstrous sea turtle which used to swim under the rocks. How you remembered about such an obscure figure in common knowledge Ziegler didn’t know, but your words were even stranger.  “What if the turtle was Sciron’s brother?” You posed, staring up at the ceiling as Angela patted down your bed, making sure you were comfortable. She laughed quietly at the absurd idea and shook her head slowly.  “As interesting as the theory is, I do not think that that is what the Greeks were striving for when telling that tale...”  “But why else would he feed the turtle, well, people?”  “I do not know- but there are many instances of strange stories such as this, yes?”  “I s’pose so..” You mumbled, pursing your lips in thought. “But like it could be his half brother, right? Cause that would explain-”  “Quiet down now, you need rest, not stress over fiction turtles and the men who feed them.” 

Why was this Angela’s most fondly remembered conversation? Purely because of it’s ridiculousness. It wasn’t often that such strange topics popped up; no matter what Captain Amari would have had people believe.  Plus you didn’t remember it, and thus she could use it to entertain you in future.

Soon enough, Angela was conflicted as she walked to deliver you the news of your discharge from the medical bay. She was happy for you; she understood how frustrating it can be to be cooped up in one place for any prolonged amount of time. But she was almost... Melancholy, beneath that joy. With you leaving the medbay, she was unsure when she’d get to see you properly next. She didn’t get much free time when off the field or out of the medbay. Most of that free time was spent taking care of herself and her mental health, and was often only late at night. She wanted to spend more time with you so badly, that it made her heart practically ache from the thought of not seeing you for an extended amount of time. She had become enamoured with you, as unprofessional as that was.  As she approached your bed, clipboard in hand, she took a deep breath. She forced a wide smile onto her angelic features, and cleared her throat to capture your attention when she got close enough.  “Any news, Doc?” You ask with a small smile, to which she nods.  “Yes, actually. You’ve finally been deemed fit to leave the med bay.” At this information you looked rather happy, and Angela couldn’t fault you for such a feeling. 

As you started to sit up and swing your legs over the side of the bed, Ziegler also moved round to offer you some help should you require it. Your legs are a little weak after staying in bed for so long, so you are a little wobbly  when you first get to your feet, but you don’t fall over, which is a very good sign in Angela’s eyes. “Thank you, Angela...” You smile at her, referring to everything she had done for you during your time in the medical ward.  “Bitte.” She replied, quite curtly. “Before you go, actually, there’s a couple of things I’d like to talk to you about...” Your brows furrow as she keeps talking.  “Is... Is something wrong?”  “No, no, not at all.” Angela assured you, understanding why you may be anxious about her words- usually when doctors or medical practitioners say something like that it’s never really good. “Far from it, actually.” This put your mind partially at ease, but not by much. She tried to give you what was an encouraging smile, but all it really managed to do was set your heart a-fluttering. Angela cleared her throat quietly.  “So- it may seem a little bit out of the blue for me to say something like this, I am well aware.” She started, trying to keep herself calm as she started to open up a little bit. “During your time under my care, I have... Grown rather fond of you; attached even.” With every word that passed her lips, you found yourself more and more awestruck. You silence seemed to unnerve Ziegler, causing her nerves to skyrocket. She remained outwardly calm, though. She didn’t know what to add to what she had said to improve it or make it less awkward, so she just stood there, tapping her fingers anxiously against the others. 

“Really?” Is all you can think to ask, your voice laced with an incredulous wonder that sounded closely akin to adoration. You would have asked if she were joking, but you knew very well that Angela wouldn’t joke about something like this. “I...” You trailed off, trying to think of how to phrase your next sentence adequately. “I’m rather fond of you too.” You settled to using her own words to describe your feelings. The look on Angela’s face told you that she probably didn’t think she’d get this far. “Oh...” She seemed at loss for words. 

You both stood their for a moment, trying to think of what to say to each other in light of these revelations. After about a minute or so, you broke the silence. “So.. Would you want to get a coffee, or tea sometime?” Your words seemed to break Angela out of a daze, and she gave you a rather large smile.  “Ah, yes, that would be lovely... Tea, and maybe some chocolates? I can bring some Swiss chocolate... It’s the best.” She told you with a quiet chuckle, and you nodded eagerly.  “That sounds good to me... What about time- when are you free?”  Angela had to think for a moment, “I’m off shift next Thursday.. What about five o’clock?” She asks, and you nod happily. “Wonderful!” She chuckled. “I shall see you then... I think you should get going before Morrison starts complaining that I’m keeping you back unnecessarily... I do believe he wishes to see you.” She informed, the fondness starting to show through in her voice.  You nod in gratitude.  “Thanks, Angela... Could I call you Angie, now?” You asked, rather cheekily. Angela rolled her eyes a little bit at the question.  “We’ll see. Now get going.” She hit your shoulder playfully, before moving away to fill in the paperwork about you being discharged. She gave you a final wave, and blew you a kiss as you walked out. 

[rosyfingereddawnn]

That’s The Way

Pairing: Jimmy Page x Reader

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: none, this is kind of an introductory/fluff chapter if you will :)

Story summary: Y/N Y/L/N, an ordinary seventeen-year-old girl, gets pulled into the world of rock and roll on a fateful night at the Marquee Club in London when she experiences the musical phenomenon of the Five Live Yardbirds. She grows up fast, navigating her way through the downfall of The Yardbirds, the legendary skyrocket of Led Zeppelin, era-defining decadence instigated by the ‘60s and ‘70s mindset of free love and personal gratification, and finding the courage to express how she fell deeply in love with one of modern music’s greatest guitarists.

Author’s notes (from Molly of rebel-without-a-zeppelin): Hi everyone! A little disclaimer on my part: this is the first story I’ve ever shared for public consumption. I’ve been toying with this idea in my mind for a very long time now, and I’ve finally mustered up the courage to share it with you all. I hope you like it. I am incredibly honored to collaborate with Syd on this project; this is truly our baby, as it has a very long, detailed, intricate plot, so saddle up for lots (and lots) of drama! This is also a sloooowwwww burn, like really, really slow lol. Over the course of the story, please feel free to send me your theories and comments; I would absolutely love to read them. Please enjoy, and happy reading!

---------

3 May 1965

The sound of a car horn beeped incessantly from the front of Y/N’s house. Dropping her backpack down on her bedroom floor with an annoyed huff, she sprinted down the steps. She never did get enough time to prepare, and it was no different today. With her friend Carolyn in tow, Y/N made a beeline for the front door, the click-clack of her Oxford shoes pounding across the hardwood floor. Y/N’s mum, who nonchalantly strolled out of the laundry room with an armful of freshly washed and folded bath towels, leant against the doorframe.

“Now remember Y/N: no drinking, no drugs, no sex. No going home with strange musician guys, nor are you allowed to go to their hotel,” her mum instructed calmly, knowing she’d receive an eye roll from the girl. Her stern expression at home on her gracefully-aged face, the girls receive the speech they get every time they go out.  “You too, C. Even though I’m not your mother, I still worry about your safety.”

Both Y/N’s mum and dad had a very protective instinct over their eldest daughter, just like their other three children. Even at Y/N’s healthy age of seventeen, she longed for the freedom and trust that her older brother had gained at her age.

“Thank you, Mrs. Y/L/N,” Carolyn replied with a little laugh.

“Mum! This is literally the fourth time I’ve been to a Yardbirds gig, and nothing bad has happened,” Y/N huffed. Her mum raised her eyebrows.

Lillian, Y/N’s little sister, walked into the foyer and surprised Y/N with a big, tight hug around her waist. Y/N gasped at the sudden contact, but chuckled when she realized it was her younger sister, and reciprocated the hug.

“I don’t want you getting hurt, Y/N. Boys are icky. And stupid!” Lillian said in a whiny voice, her face muffled by being buried in Y/N’s stomach.

Y/N ruffled her sister’s muss of dirty blonde waves affectionately, rubbing her back to soothe her worries. “I promise, I will come back perfectly fine! I won’t let any boys mess with me, Lil,” Y/N said with a smile, “And when I come back, I’ll tell you everything that happened.”

Lillian gazed up at Y/N with a similar smile, her small teeth shining a bright, pearly white and her chin resting on the taller girl’s stomach. “Okay,” she said, content, before releasing from Y/N with a stuffed animal tucked under her arm.

“Where’s Charlie?” Y/N asked, hoping she could say goodbye to her younger brother before she left.

“I think he’s riding around the neighborhood on his bike with his friends,” Y/N’s mum replied with a shrug. Y/N felt a little disappointed, but she figured she’d talk to him tomorrow at breakfast about her night out.

Thomas, Y/N’s older brother, continued to honk the horn rather obnoxiously, growing quite impatient. It’s a wonder the neighbors weren’t at arms, knocking on their door. He was forced by his parents to be Y/N and Carolyn’s chauffeur to the Marquee Club in London.

“We have to go, or else Tommy will have my head,” Y/N said as she started to open the front door.

“Wait!” her mum said, sloppily placing the towels down on a nearby counter to dash to the door and give Y/N a hug and a kiss on the head goodbye. Finally pulling away her weathered hands flew to Y/N’s shoulders, and gripping them firmly, she continued, “Be good. Love you.”

“I know, I will. Love you too,” Y/N smiled, before dashing down the steps and to the passenger seat of the car. Carolyn was in quick pursuit, following her to the car and taking a seat in the back.

“It’s about time,” Tommy huffed impatiently, tapping his fingertips on the top of the steering wheel as he put the transmission into drive.

“Sorry. Mum was giving me and C a safety brief,” Y/N replied apologetically.

“Why are you two still in school uniforms?” he snorted, shifting to look over at the girls; their studious appearance of white oxford shirts, sweater vests, plaid kilts, white knee socks, and smart oxford shoes would be quite out of place among the audience at the show.

“No time to change, just like usual,” she replied, turning on the radio, soft melodies pouring out at a low volume.

The three drove in silence, except for the sound of the radio playing, until Carolyn had dozed off on the somewhat lengthy car ride. Occasional small talk between Y/N and her brother permeated the quiet that fell over the group, but it picked up when they were only a few blocks away from the venue.

“You gotta stay safe in there, Y/N,” Tommy said, looking straight ahead. His teeth clamped down sharply on his bottom lip: a dead giveaway to the nerves he must have been feeling.

“I know, Dad,” Y/N joked, punching him lightly across the shoulder. Her bright smile wavered and fell when she saw his grim expression.

“I’m serious, you know. I don’t want my sister being pestered by some wankers in a blues band.”

Y/N smirked at her brother’s sudden defensive behavior. “I can take care of myself. Trust me. This isn’t my first rodeo. You should’ve seen the first Yardbirds gig we went to. Utter chaos...” The tilt of her lips signalled that she was joking, and Tommy huffed out a laugh.

Carolyn, stretching with a grunt, had miraculously woken up just as Tommy pulled up to the front door of the Marquee. Glancing at the venue with awe dancing in their eyes, Y/N and Carolyn disembarked from the car, walking closer with the façade of calmness and competency.

“I’ll be back later to pick you girls up. Have fun, but not too much fun,” Tommy rolled his window down as he said this, winking playfully.

Y/N waved to her brother as Carolyn thanked him graciously for the ride. Arms linked, Y/N and Carolyn entered the famous Marquee. Nervousness and anticipation began to pool Y/N’s stomach as she was greeted by the decadent atmosphere of the club: the smell of smoke, alcohol, and sweat hung in the air as her eyes were flashed by many people mingling about, dressed in typical mod clothing. Y/N and her friend looked at each other, feeling like aliens in their intelligent dress. They tactfully made their way through the crowd as they found their way to their usual spot, a small leather-upholstered booth set against the wall near the stage.

“Today might be the day, Y/N,” Carolyn said as they settled into their seats.

“I don’t know,” she replied, smoothing out her skirt, “the idea of that is both scary and exciting to me at the same time. We’ll just roll with the punches, I guess.”

“Which Yardbird do you have your eye on?”

Y/N smirked as she thought for a moment. “Hmm...I’m not sure. I guess they’re all pretty cute in their own way. What about you?”

“Yes, I agree. But I must admit, I do have a very soft spot for Chris Dreja.”

“I’ll pray for ya, C,” Y/N chuckled.

~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, backstage, five live Yardbirds were performing some pre-show rituals in the hopes of easing the preliminary anxiousness. Jeff, Keith, and Jim were peeking out the little sliver of curtain that allowed them to see their gathering audience.

“Look! It’s those two schoolgirls again!” Jeff pointed to the two teenage girls in school uniforms, chatting in their booth waiting for the show to begin. They were huddled together in conversation, legs daintily crossed as their faint giggles floated over to them. Jim couldn’t help but smile at the sound, though he recovered quickly, not wanting his bandmates to get any ideas.

“What’s wrong with that? They must like us,” Keith replied.

“I think they’re both really pretty, especially the one with the Y/H/C hair,” Jim pointed out, trying to be as subtle as possible.

“Yeah, maybe we should invite them backstage after the show… have a nice little chat,” Jeff winked at the singer and the drummer cheekily.

After taking a final glance at the two conversing girls, the three returned to the backstage area where Paul and Chris were. Jeff immediately enlisted Giorgio, their manager, to complete the agreed-upon mission. Jeff loosely draped an arm around Giorgio’s shoulder before bestowing the request as politely as possible. Not trying to be suspiciously polite, of course, because everyone in the band and its entourage were firsthand witnesses of Jeff’s temper and stubbornness. Yikes.

“Okay, I’m going to need you to do me a favor,” Jeff said to Giorgio with a mischievous smile.

Giorgio rolled his eyes, knowing this “favor” would have to do with scouting girls from the audience. “What d’ya need, Jeff?” he sighed exhaustedly.

“Don’t complain, please,” Jeff deadpanned. “There are two pretty birds in the audience, wearing their school uniforms. They’ve been coming to our shows for a little bit now, and they seem nice—”

“You want me to bring them backstage after the show?” Giorgio interrupted, somehow telepathically knowing, by routine, what the guitarist’s request would be.

“You finish that sentence like you know what I’m about to say.”

“That’s because I do, Mr. Beck,” Giorgio retorted sarcastically, “this happens a lot more often than you think it does.”

“Whatever,” Jeff grumbled moodily, knowing he was right, before walking back to the group of musicians in preparation.

~~~~~~~~

Y/N and Carolyn continued to gossip happily about what was happening at school, not a care in the world. They felt the stares of older men in the club, who silently disapproved of their knee socks being scrunched by their ankles, because that wasn’t the “proper” thing to do. But they didn’t care. Who are they to judge?

Every teacher scolded girls at school who did the same thing, because they didn’t want their long legs to be “tempting” or “distracting” any boys. A bloody nuisance, is what it is.

The girls were snapped from their thoughts by the sound of a heavy guitar tone being blasted through the speakers in an opening riff. Their eyes were stapled, almost transfixed to the stage as they took in the five sharply-dressed men in front of them, singing their songs and playing their instruments.

As much as Carolyn enjoyed The Yardbirds and music in general, Y/N had a rather deep connection to it, odd enough as it was. She could play the piano fairly well, so she understood where these musicians were coming from cognitively and creatively. From what she’d read in magazines about current popular musicians, like The Yardbirds for example, she liked the same music they did. Y/N understood dynamics, tempo, tone, key, and musical notation, just like they did. Perhaps she’d be able to get into an intelligent musical conversation with at least one of them one day.

Two straight hours of hits, obscure songs, and blues covers from The Yardbirds’ catalogue were played for the Marquee Club patrons, hypnotizing its drunk and high onlookers with polished musicality and instrumentation.

As the final song concluded, both Y/N and Carolyn, unbeknownst to the other, felt a sinking feeling of disappointment that fell like a pit in their stomachs. They wouldn’t have the chance to meet the band. No one from the entity had approached them yet, and momentarily the five live Yardbirds would be exiting the stage for the night.

After they said their goodbyes and thanks to the crowd, they disappeared behind the curtain. The main lights of the club brightened to signal that the show was over, as the voices of all the patrons raised in rave of the spectacular show they had just witnessed.

Discouraged, but still in light spirits at what they had just seen, Y/N and Carolyn stood up from their seat and headed for the front door. Y/N expected her brother to be waiting in front; it was late, so might as well not make him wait longer than he needs to.

Y/N and Carolyn were merely a few feet from the door when Y/N felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. Turning around to see a man with a dark beard already baring a jovial tight-lipped grin at her, the girl was quite surprised, maybe a little weirded out, but she reciprocated the gesture as genuinely as she could.

“Hello sir, what can we do for you?” Y/N greeted, discreetly nudging Carolyn to help her out and become a united front with her in front of this stranger.

“Good evening ladies, I was sent by Mr. Jeff Beck to offer you an invitation backstage to hang out with the band.”

Y/N’s stomach dropped and her face broke out into an obvious mad blush, much to her dismay. She was internally screaming. The Jeff Beck had spotted them in the crowd?! This had to be a dream.  Wait, this could be a complete drunken buffoon trying to trick them. Y/N remembered what her mother had said, and took the proper precautionary measure.

Y/N smiled in the most composed way she could. “Thank you for such a gracious invitation! Could I ask your name, if you don’t mind?”

“Giorgio Gomelsky, manager of The Yardbirds,” he replied, in a seemingly proud manner.

Okay, this was real. Y/N knew that Giorgio was definitely the manager’s name. She turned to Carolyn, who looked just as excited as she was.

“What are your names, dears?” Giorgio asked, pulling them out of their daze of what seemed like a fake reality.

“I’m Carolyn, and this is my friend Y/N,” Carolyn piped up, excited that she finally got an opportunity to speak to someone close to The Yardbirds.

She internally agreed to let Y/N handle the “diplomacy” part of the introduction, knowing that she was best at that. Carolyn knew her friend was quite shy, so she knew to step in when Y/N was starting to feel anxious. She noticed Y/N starting to fiddle with her fingers while talking to Giorgio in the most collected way she could muster; as excited as Y/N was, Carolyn knew she was growing very nervous.

“Well, it is certainly lovely to meet you both. So, what do you say? Would you like to meet the lads?”

After one final glance of excited mutual agreement, Carolyn replied, “Yes, we’d love to.”

Giorgio led the pair of girls back the way they came, through a sea of inebriated people, but this time through the backstage door. Y/N made an appoint to walk behind Carolyn, in an attempt to collect and relax herself. She was starting to sweat a little, her stomach doing flips and her hands becoming cold and clammy.

~~~~~~~~

“Our guests should be arriving any minute now,” Jeff said as he was placing his guitar back in its case.

Chris was standing and chatting with Paul in a corner when he turned around in surprise at the news. “Guests? What guests?”

“We had Giorgio invite two girls from the audience to come back here,” Jim replied, walking over to sit down in a metal folding chair.

“And why weren't we made aware of this?” Paul asked, as he walked to get another metal folding chair to place near Jim.

“It was their idea,” Keith replied, pointing two fingers between Jeff and Jim. Paul and Chris just nodded in recognition.

“I didn’t hear you disagree, Relf,” Jeff clapped back. He then told Chris and Keith to get some chairs for themselves and the two girls that would be walking through the door at any second.

Before Keith could respond, a couple knocks resounded in the room, signalling the arrival of the guests. Jacket lapels and ties were quickly straightened, even though each person was still glazed with quickly-drying sweat from the show they had just played, before the room fell unnaturally quiet as Giorgio opened the rather squeaky door.

The initial tension in the room that lasted a split second could be cut with a knife. Y/N felt her heart pounding in her chest, a cold sweat already running down her back, as five pairs of eyes landed on her, Carolyn, and Giorgio, warm smiles following suit.

She felt like internally combusting.

“Boys, this is Y/N,” Giorgio broke the momentary silence by introducing her, “and Carolyn.” Y/N smiled shyly and sent them a little wave, a dusty shade of pink seeping its way to her cheeks. Carolyn’s greeting was much more exuberant than Y/N’s, as she took the initiative to go over and shake all of their hands amiably. Y/N realized she had to follow her friend in order to make a good first impression.

Knowing that the boys wanted to spend time with the girls without being chaperoned, Giorgio left the room to attend to other business affairs.

Upon first glance, Y/N was the most beautiful girl that four of the five Yardbirds had ever seen. Perfect features, long legs, a calm, gentle, sweet demeanor… Just an absolutely angelic young woman; a vision.

Jeff had obviously recognized her beauty, from seeing her at multiple shows, but he thought she was way out of his league. He decided to focus on getting her to laugh and relax around them, because he noticed just how nervous she looked. She was turning pale right in front of his very eyes! Paul and Chris began to internally question themselves, how have I not seen this girl before? She is so gorgeous! Jim had been glancing at her sporadically throughout the show, soaking up her faraway presence. He noticed how her eyes glistened in childlike wonder as she watched them do what they did best: perform the Chicago blues.

“Well, it is very nice to meet you both,” Keith replied enthusiastically. “I’m Keith,” he alluded to himself, then pointing to the other members of the group while giving their names, “and this is Chris, Paul, Jeff, and Jim.”

“I mean, we know who you guys are, but it’s so lovely to finally meet you,” Carolyn replied. Y/N nodded in agreement.

“Come and sit down! Make yourselves comfortable. We don’t bite,” Jeff joked, motioning to the open chairs. The girls smiled and accepted his invitation, Y/N taking a seat between Jeff Beck and Jim McCarty, while Carolyn took a seat between Keith Relf and Chris Dreja. The chairs were arranged in a circular formation, so each person could talk to the other with ease.

“Tell us about yourselves!” Paul initiated, “I think Y/N should go first though, because you haven’t said too much yet,” he laughed at the last part. Y/N giggled (a little too idiotically for her own liking), but she felt herself become starstruck at how her name sounded coming from one of their voices.

Y/N clenched her cold, clammy hands in her lap as a method to ease her anxiety before starting with a smile. “Well, I’m from Saint Albans. This is our fourth time, I believe, coming to see a Yardbirds gig. Carolyn and I came to see you with Eric Clapton once, and then this is the third time with Jeff.”

“Oh, that’s fantastic! I guess I see where your favor lies in terms of guitarists,” Jeff responded playfully.

“I guess you’re right,” Y/N laughed, “I will admit that I love what you’ve done with the body of work. Clapton was a blues purist, which I respect, and he’s great, but I think your playing is much more interesting and unorthodox.”

Paul, Jim, and Jeff all raised their eyebrows at Y/N’s comment. They were impressed with how she understood their musicality.

“Are you a musician?” Jim asked Y/N.

“Not in your sense of the word,” Y/N chuckled, “But I’ve been playing the piano for most of my life, so I understand music. Probably more than your average female audience member,” she added with a grin.

“That’s so cool! Are you classically trained, or is it just a hobby?”

“Classically trained,” Y/N admitted to Jim shyly.

“Oh wow, so you’re the real deal,” Jeff added.

“I’m not a professional, so I’d say no,” Y/N laughed.

“You probably know more about music than all five of us combined!” Paul said.

“Well, I know that you know much more about the blues than me!” Y/N answered playfully.

“Okay, I’ll give you that,” Paul smiled at Y/N. She cursed herself in her mind for feeling weak at Paul’s simple sentiment, but tried to keep her composure as best she could.

The four of them, especially Jeff and Y/N, began to bond over their love for different musicians. Y/N expressed her love for Chet Atkins and his fingerpicking style, Scotty Moore’s lively soloing style, and Robert Johnson’s slide technique and open tunings, rendering the three men shocked at her knowledge on the subject. Y/N loved how easily Jeff could make her laugh, and how interested Paul and Jim were at whatever she had to say, significant or insignificant. Chris Dreja, who was in a little group with Keith and Carolyn, occasionally spaced out of his conversation to hear what Y/N had to say.

They bonded for about an hour and a half about everything and nothing, until Y/N abruptly realized that Tommy was probably waiting for a while outside for her and her friend. She apologized to the band profusely for such a sudden departure as she and Carolyn walked towards the door.

“Say you’ll come visit us again after the show?” Jeff called to Y/N as she turned towards him in the doorframe.

“Absolutely,” she smiled brightly.

---------

Thanks so much, hope you enjoy!!

Taglist: @y0uth--anasia @reincarnated70sbaby

[otomegema]

title: Convergence Theory, ch. 2 pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader summary: You are a lesser family member of the Gojo clan, so far removed you don’t even carry the name, but you carry the Limitless ability and thus the potential to be a bride to the future head of the clan— a fact you patently reject at fifteen. Twelve years later you are a second grade sorcerer struggling to obtain first grade status when the object of your deepest objections offers you a deal. rating: mature tropes: fake dating/engagement, rivals to lovers, slow romance Link: Archive of Our Own

It had been a logical move to allow Gojo to take down your number, entering it into his contacts with an obscene amount of heart and wishing star emojis by the brief glance you caught over his shoulder. It looked like he was already banking on your acceptance of the deal, but when you parted, your to-go sushi in a small plastic bag, you hadn’t expected to hear from him until tomorrow evening at the latest.

Or maybe even never.

But now, back in the hotel you were being comped for while in Tokyo, you wished silently that you’d never given that man your cell phone number.

Honey

Baby

Future-pretend-love-of-my-life

Have you made a decision?

He wasn’t human. It was barely 6am, did he wake up this early for lessons every day? You groaned, nearly swatting the phone off the nightstand in the dark.

You shot back a fast reply.

-oh I’m sorry

-I’m still recovering from getting electrocuted the other day

-Some asshat led a curse to me

You rolled over, managing to get at least another decent half hour of sleep in before the phone chimed again, lighting up the darkened hotel room.

\(★ω★)/

YOUR asshat

Should you choose to accept this mission

You threw off your covers, forcing yourself up to sit against the stack of pillows behind you as you tapped out a reply.

-My pretend asshat

-Mother will be so proud

The dots of his reply began immediately.

So is that a yes?

You sighed, rolling your eyes to yourself.

-Day isn’t over -Hasn’t even started tyvm

The dots began. Stopped. Began and stopped again, this time not reappearing. You tossed your phone onto the bed and teetered up and over to the coffee maker. The pot was finishing brewing by the time your phone chimed again.

You’re so slow.

The addition of punctuation and the sudden lack of emoji seemed almost like a warning flare that Gojo’s patience was waning. But you hardly knew the man and really, what did you care? A favor for a favor was what he offered. You didn’t owe him anything.

I have other options too.

His text continued and for a moment you frowned, wondering if his intention was to have that sound like a threat. You felt heat rising in your throat— he didn’t want to play that game.

So no pressure. Genuinely.

Oh. Good. That was better. You felt the tension uncoil as fast as it had grown.

Tho I AM your only hope for advancement <3

You could have thrown the phone right through the wall. Your thumbs worked rapidly, shooting out your reply in no time.

-Ah yes, your finest quality

A quick appearance of dots.

My special grade ranking? (･ω<)☆

You smirked.

-Humility

You’re no fun.

Text me when you are done being boring.

This was probably the most you had ever spoken to Gojo, despite having seen him on and off from a distance for the better half of your life. He was hard to miss. Every event at the main house would have him and his immediate family at the forefront. No one ever stopped talking about Gojo Satoru and his accomplishments and his strength and his skill as a sorcerer.

It was nauseating, having to pretend to nod and smile like it was all some great blessing just to orbit near him. It was bad enough he read like a sun to your abilities, as if he needed to be made to think he was anymore of the center of the universe.

Your palm itched. The desire to tap back a response now, a firm denial, very strong. But not stronger than your excitement at the possibility of being a first grade sorcerer. It was everything you had wanted. Prestige, recognition, tougher missions and the pay and rewards that came with them.

You were no weakling. Sure the telemetry technique took you out of commission, but it was hardly your greatest feat. You had finally been able to manifest the cursed technique lapse, blue. Granted, it was a one off and exhausted you so fully afterwards that you nearly fainted on the spot… but your tolerance was getting better. The precision of your manipulation of your cursed energy would never be on par with Gojo, but you could, some day, maybe even manage to shoot the technique off twice.

Reversal Red was next to impossible. And Hollow Technique? Truly impossible. The Six Eyes was needed to even attempt it. Most of your practice had been devoted to perfecting your long distance teleportation skills, fine tuning your telemetry technique and working on establishing your domain. That one was easier. The Unlimited Void crushed your opponent beneath an overload of sensory information, information you could easily channel and tap into with your own unique skills as a Limitless user.

But like all things, you were only second best. And barely. It was a joke. Comparing yourself to Gojo. He was on a level you could never achieve— unless.

You grabbed your phone, hastily dialing the new number and wincing at the loud, cheerful greeting from the other line.

“Good morning, moon of my soul, tenderest heart, darling—!“

“I haven’t even said yes yet, you monster.”

“Ah! A name of my very own? Be still my trembling heart!”

“I wish to make an amendment to the agreement.”

There was a lengthy pause. You could practically hear the slow spread of that sly smile. Content as the cat who caught the canary.

He knew he was about to win.

“Let’s hear it.”

“If you are putting my name forward for first grade, that means you have someone else in mind to be the second backer and someone in mind for me to shadow on missions and train with, yeah?

“I do.” Gojo said, his tone surprisingly serious.

“Have them put my name forward instead. I want to shadow you.”

Gojo laughed, a short mirthless thing, “What makes you think I have the time?”

“You have enough time to play pretend, I’d think any fiancé would leap at the chance to be with his lovely wife-to-be and keep her safe.”

Gojo hummed.

“Why me?”

This was an oddly familiar conversation.

“Purely selfish reasons. You are the best Limitless user. I am a Limitless user. I want you to teach me.”

“You aren’t on my level.” He said, no malice in his words, just simple facts.

“Then teach me what I can handle.”

There was another pause.

“I’m not gonna go easy on you just because you’re my girl.”

The bare utterance of the endearment sent a shiver up your arms and not an entirely pleasant one either. His girl. God, how would you even begin to explain this fake engagement to your parents? Who knew the depth of your jealousy and bitterness over Gojo since you were— what? Five? Younger?

“Since I am just your ‘pretend’ girl, I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“Your funeral, babe.” Gojo said, “But I’m glad we resolved this early! Because we are having dinner. Reservations are made, I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear something pretty!”

Your words caught in your throat, stuttering across your tongue and unable to force out before the line cut off and he was gone.

You pressed the edge of your phone to your temple, already feeling a headache coming on. Something pretty? Shit.

-Something pretty? -Too vague. I have no idea what I’m supposed to wear.

A dress! Something for the evening. A Line.

V Neck def

Show off what puberty gave ya (＾〃＾)

Chiffon with ruffle lace

And grey-blue

-Why?

To match my eyes <3

-Where in the world do you expect me to find that specific dress in the next few hours

Downstairs with hotel staff I had it dropped off <3 <3 <3

-That’s creepy

(つω`｡) </3 </3

-Enough with the hearts -How much? I’ll pay you back

It is a gift <3

-How’d you even know my size

A gentleman never reveals his secrets

┐(‘～` )┌

You sighed and set aside your phone to call down to the front desk. Sure enough, a few minutes later someone brought up a large white box, tied with a grey-blue ribbon. You set the package on the small counter in your room’s kitchen and opened the lid, brushing aside soft tissue paper.

The dress was ridiculously soft, made of fine, nearly translucent layers of chiffon. It was a lovely color, the sight making you suddenly think of the feeling in the air before a thunderstorm, the smell of rain. The ribbon matched.

You looked for a price tag and found none, but folded away at the bottom of the box was a hand written receipt. You paled at the figure displayed on it.

-Gojo, I can’t possibly accept this.

Don’t be stupid. No one would believe I was serious about a woman unless I was positively spoiling her rotten. s’not like it broke the bank!

-Forget the first-grade rec

-Pay my bills

Too late! Negotiations are closed :)

-So what the hell am I doing at this dinner?

Eating Duh and being seen with yours truly easy peasy right?

You sipped your coffee, keeping the mug well away from the dress. It was certainly nicer than anything you had ever owned in— well. Ever. It was hard to argue that there were clearly going to be some additional perks to this arrangement you hadn’t previously thought of.

Plus we gotta go over some ground rules

-Thought you said negotiations were closed

-This mean we can revisit my bills?

g2g

Students need me!

Ttyl babe

The ease in which that man showered you so soon with endearments was nauseating. Had he ever even had a girlfriend before? Or just those usual moon-eyed women who fawned and petted him?

And now everyone was gonna think you were one of those girls. You drank your coffee faster, relishing in the way it burned down your throat and overpowered the bad taste in your mouth.

“First-grade… first-grade. Remember the first-grade.”

And training. You’d squeeze every possible benefit from this arrangement out that you could. Sorcerers worked in teams, but at the end of the day, it was every man and woman for themselves.

Let them think what they want when you were seen tonight. You would come out on top.

***

The day passed quickly and you found yourself standing in front of the hotel mirror, twisting back and forth to get a feel for the movement of the dress— and half practicing staying upright in the heels that had arrived not even a moment later.

They were high enough to be appealing, but low enough to keep you from falling over on your face. Gojo had texted an explanation that he figured you were out of practice in wearing anything other than sneakers and combat boots and to consider them training wheels.

You’d wanted, once again, to punch him in the face.

The kind of girl he liked was a stilettos kinda girl, you guessed, huffing to yourself as you sat down and twirled one of your ankles, stretching the muscle. Even the low heels were not entirely comfortable, but you’d manage.

Checking your makeup one last time, you picked up your own worn purse and slung it over your shoulder. Women who wore these kind of dresses and came in on the arm’s of other men and women like Gojo never had anything more than the smallest clutch— but you weren’t those women.

You made your way down to the lobby and were surprised to find a chauffeur waiting outside with a very very sleek European car of some kind. You weren’t great about those kinds of things, only noting the seats were made with soft black leather and there was even a divider built in like in a limo to give the passengers privacy.

The chauffeur ushered you into the empty car and you sat back with a sigh as silently he delivered you to the next destination. You had, in some small place, hoped Gojo would already be present.

Why he felt the need for such spectacle was beyond you, but maybe this was what was expected of a clan family son when he courted a young woman. It felt— weird. Nice, but weird. The drive was not overly long, the car coming to stop.

You knew this restaurant. Some fancy French-Japanese fusion place that charged a hundred dollars for a single plate with a broiled pear covered in wasabi or some weird shit. Already you felt your stomach churning with anxiety and encroaching regret.

This was gonna suck.

This was gonna suck so bad.

The chauffeur opened the door and you barely managed not to wobble on the pavement. Feeling stilted and exposed as other guests and couples regarded you with open curiosity and veiled judgment.

Clearly they were used to seeing the same people come and go from this restaurant and you were not one of them.

You clutched your bag tighter to your arm, hand reaching inside instinctively to find your phone and text Gojo you were out. This was over. Find someone else— when your surname was shouted from the door.

All eyes turned as if in sync to Gojo, wearing simple trousers and a white shirt tucked in. He didn’t even have a tie or a jacket, his dark glasses obscuring his eyes even as he looked right at you.

A few people tsked their disapproval, but they may as well have been ghosts for all the attention Gojo paid them. When you didn’t immediately make your way over to him, Gojo shoved his hands into his pockets and strode over to meet you.

He grinned, the lowering of his chin and the slow rise back up an obvious indicator he was sizing you up and didn’t care if you knew.

He whistled.

“Ow, ow!”

“Shut it— you know this dress could cover my rent for half a year?! And these shoes! I could buy a used car with this ensemble.”

“You even drive?”

“Not the point.”

He laughed again, loud and careless.

“Figured since you were dawdling you might need an arm to lean on.” Gojo said, offering your his elbow without removing his hands from his pockets, “Or perhaps…”

He feigned a gasp, “Are you feeling shy?”

“I’m leaving.” you deadpanned, managing half a turn before his hand was on your waist, turning you back. He took your hand, the feeling of his palm on your side still burned into your skin as he hooked your arm in his own.

You allowed it, leaning on him only a little. He looked pleased, smugly so, as he led you inside and to a table that was already set for two.

There was a wine glass sitting by your own plate. The one by Gojo’s was turned upside down and set to the side… a can of soda sitting, bright and out of place, in its spot.

“… where did you even get that.”

“Vending machine.” Gojo said simply and even kicked your chair out a little for you to take a seat. How flattering.

“Wine is for you, if you want it. Figured it might help take the edge off.”

You rolled your eyes, not bothering to wait for the server to return and simply tipping the bottle of red into your own glass.

“What about you?”

“I don’t drink.” He said, cracking the tab on his soda with a loud pop. Several eyes filtered your way, whispers behind hands and napkins as Gojo all but drained the can in one gulp.

“So— ground rules?” you said, unfolding a cloth napkin and settling it in a half folded triangle across your lap the way you saw other women doing.

“Straight in, huh? Alright. Terms.” Gojo lifted one finger, “As already discussed, you and I will be ‘courting’— dating. Whatever the fuck. I’ll take care of arranging the dates, you show up, act sufficiently smitten and in about a year give or take, we break up.”

Gojo lifted a second finger, “Two. In exchange, I have two first grade sorcerers who will back your promotion. And, as requested—“ Gojo’s voice dropped a fraction, almost grumpily, “—you’ll come with me on my missions for your first semi-grade probation.”

“Now ground rules. At any point either of us wants out, it’s done. No questions asked. But don’t think that means you get to ditch and just keep that first grade appointment. I’ll make sure you end up right back at a grade two.”

You sipped your wine, giving your mouth something to do than form some very choice words at that moment. Gojo noticed, his smile almost a snarl, but the expression quickly vanished. You had a funny feeling trying to hoodwink or swindle him would end very poorly for anyone.

“And when you develop feelings for me—“

“If.” You amended quickly, but Gojo ignored you.

“—when you develop feelings for me. You have to tell me and again, the engagement is over. You can keep your rank. No harm no foul. I can hardly blame you for falling for me.” Gojo said with a wistful sigh. You were grateful for the arrival of the first course, forcing you both to fall silent for a moment until they departed.

You had no idea what was on the plate. Some kind of salad? It was hardly a mouthful. Gojo didn’t even touch his silverware and feeling less than impressed with the cuisine, you didn’t either.

You drank your wine.

“Barring sickness or injury you are required to appear for every date I set. Including the ones where you have to meet other members of the main family.”

You frowned, but didn’t object.

“Wait— what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Is the engagement off when you develop feelings for me?” You said lightly, trying to play off your smile as wistful.

Gojo scoffed, his reaction almost enough to hurt your feelings… just a little bit.

“Non-issue. I don’t do feelings.”

“God, you sound like a fuck boy.” The words came out before you could stop yourself, the last syllable off your tongue right at the moment the server had returned to reclaim your plates. An eyebrow was raised and you hid your face down with a flustered cough.

By the time you looked back up, you got the joy of seeing Gojo staring at you from over his glasses, a broad and deeply amused grin on his face.

“Not non-issue. If I get the feelings rule you get the feelings rule. End discussion.”

Gojo shrugged, again not touching the newest course which was, to your extreme annoyance, some kind of grilled pear.

“You should slow down.” He warned in a sing song voice as you poured another glass.

“I’m not a baby— okay. So we got terms, we got ground rules. Anything else?”

“You can’t refuse my gifts.”

Your eyes narrowed sharply and he simply smiled and hummed with a shrug.

“It’s for appearances! Oh. Speaking of appearances—“ Gojo sat up, fishing something from his back pocket and sitting it on the table. You stared at the simple black box, fearing a vein might burst in your forehead at any moment.

“What is that.” You stated more than asked.

“Open it.” Gojo said, his voice light and encouraging as he nudged the box closer, “Come on, open it. Open it. You know you wanna, sweetie, light of my life, fire of my lo—“

You snatched the box up if only to stop him from finishing that sentence.

You swallowed hard, the sounds of the room fading out as you flipped open the box and found, sitting upon a small satin pillow— a… key?

You lifted it from the box, noting it even had a little custom keychain made to look like a white cat with a tiny blindfold.

“It’s to my apartment!” Gojo announced with a giddy laugh, clasping his hands together in a way that was entirely un-adult like.

“… I have my own place. Thank you.”

“In Kyoto. This is here, in Tokyo. Where you will need to stay for this all to work, remember?”

“Where will you stay?” You asked dryly, vaguely hoping his answer would be something other than what it was no doubt going to be.

“Very funny. You’ll have your own room—if you want it.”

“Why—“ your voice nearly broke and you had to take a moment to clear it, “Why uh— why wouldn’t I be wanting my own room?”

“Feelings are off limits, naturally. But if you want to take me up again on that offer from back in the day…”

The surge of cursed energy that rippled off of you was so strong Gojo nearly toppled backwards, his laugh gaining a somewhat nervous lift to it if only for just a moment.

“I’ll have my own room. My own locked room.” You bit out, feeling your face flushing hot and hating every second Gojo seemed to be enjoying your utter mortification, “Unless that is a problem.”

“Nope. Not at all. Probably for the best ultimately, I’ve been told I have a bad habit of dickmatizing folks.”

“… I’m sorry, you what.”

“Dickmatizing! Ya know. Like hypnotizing but with—“

“I got it!” You groaned, pressing your face into your hand. When did it get so damn hot in here? You snatched up your wine glass and finished off the contents, feeling even hotter.

“Is that all?”

“Unless anything comes to your mind, then yep.” Gojo finished, ignoring yet another course. You were almost tempted. The dish was some kind of meat, but the sauce drenched over it smelt sharply of something bitter and sour at the same time. You stomach recoiled at the thought and yet rumbled in protest to its growing hunger.

“So what do you think?”

“You’re disgusting?” you said flatly.

“I meant about the deal.”

You glowered openly at him. It was going to take a lot of practice to turn that deprecating expression you felt naturally pull unto your face at his sight into something loving and tender… but for first-grade ranking? For lessons on your Limitless? Fuck. Fuck you’d do it.

You poured the remainder of the bottle into your glass and polished it off in one shot.

“I accept.”

Gojo clapped his hands together, “Excellent! Now let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Huh?” You barely managed to get the questioning sound out before Gojo was up and out of his chair. You scrambled up, head rushing with the wine and the weirdness of this entire conversation. By the time you managed to catch up with him, he snaked out his arm and wrapped it around your waist, pulling you flush and warm against his side.

You about threw him across the room, but your attempts at a grapple were thwarted by the sudden thrumming of the familiar Neutral Limitless ability, stalling your moments to such a small speed you felt suddenly frozen.

The impulse to toss him passed and instead you let him escort you outside where the car was still waiting.

“Take us to the place, ya know the one.” Gojo said to the driver and in a surprising show of gallantry, actually held the door open for you to get in first.

“And open the back window. If she throws up, I’d rather it be on the pavement.”

You elbowed him in the chest— accidentally of course.

***

The car drive was a bit longer, taking you away from the glitz and glamor of this side of Tokyo and to what looked arguably as one of the most hole-in-the-wall noodle joints you had ever seen. The street kitchen was small, the counter open outside with a few bar stools. The smells of teriyaki and spices and cooking oils were heavy in the air and made your mouth water.

Gojo perched on one of the stools and you came to sit alongside him, watching as he ripped open a set of chopsticks and rubbed the splinters off.

He ordered quickly—yakisoba and yakitori. Along with several packages of mochi they kept behind the counter in the same kinda plastic bags you’d find at a convenience store.

Gojo had been right— you should have slowed down. The world had a light haze to it… a slight tilting. His hand on your back felt massive and overly warm as he guided you back to sitting straight.

“Eat, ya lush.” He ordered, piling noodles and chicken unto a smaller empty plate for you from his own, “C’mon.”

Gojo popped one of the mochi bags and dumped the sticky sweet confection right on top of your yakisoba. You grimaced, picking the sweet off and trying to wipe some of the sauce from it before you took a generous bite.

The food was greasy and delicious and abundant and cheap and your mouth was in heaven. Even having not used your Limitless since yesterday, every taste still felt heightened. Maybe it was the way your cursed powers tried to compensate from the wine, but everything somehow was more delicious.

You attempted to snag another piece of yakitori from Gojo’s plate, only to have your chopsticks blocked with a clack.

“Ah ah ah— hands off.”

“What’s yours is mine, right?” You chided, only to be dodged again in a movement faster than your eyes could perceive. Did he just use his Limitless to counter you? Feeling emboldened, you activated your own, the faint pulse of the energy so close together giving you the sort of deflecting feeling one experiences when holding two sides of the same magnet near together.

Repelling, shifting. Trying to shove the energy into a way that the two forces would collide rather than deflect.

You were concentrating fully. The minuscule movements invisible to even your eyes, but the feeling was there. A sort of blindsight where you didn’t need the Six Eyes to tell you what was happening— but it would have definitely helped. You flicked a glance up and lost your control, your chopsticks shooting away and nearly cracking one in two.

Gojo chuckled. It was the expression on his face that had distracted you. His eyelids were half dropped, his smile soft as he readied himself to deflect you again. Your energy was no match for his… but it matched. It was made of the same stuff. Controlled the same way. He could see, with the sharp clarity of his Six Eyes, every tiny precise movement you made with your cursed energy. A mirror of his own abilities in miniature.

He was playing with you. And all the sudden you felt as if a small knot in your chest had shaken free, the coil coming undone.

Was there anyone else on this Earth you could do such a thing with?

Feeling strange and suddenly shy, you drew your energy back in and refocused on eating from your own plate, grumbling at your loss.

A second later, Gojo’s chopsticks moved over your plate, dropping another helping of noodles in.

A small concession. A victory in it's own right, even if it had not won the yakitori.

“Sober up, will ya? But don’t eat too fast. I’m not cleaning up vomit, no way, no how.”

“You’re always so vulgar.” you murmured, speaking around a mouthful of noodles and mochi. Gojo turned and stuck his tongue out at you. A confirmation or a reprisal, you couldn’t be sure.

But regardless, it did something to you he had never managed to do before.

It made you laugh.

[trivia-bangtan]

after (jjk) - 006

pairing: patient!oc x patient!jungkook

genre: friends to lovers au, kinda a hazel and gus trope, | lots of angst, fluff and suggestive themes

warning: kinda fluff ig

authors note: sorry it’s short but it’s more of a filler 🤪 im trying to get back to writing:)

“what are you doing today?” jungkook asked as i was getting ready for the therapy session later that day.

“therapy, remember?” i chuckle, braiding my hair.

“obviously i meant after,” he laughs. i roll my eyes, shaking my head.

“obviously,” i chuckle.

“so, what are you doing AFTER therapy?” he giggles.

“coming home and sleeping. why?” i scoff, tying off the simple French braid. i pick up the phone and walked over to my bed, slipping on my black zip up that was probably two sizes too big, but offered succor consistently.

“how about, instead of that, you come with me,” jungkook says. i knew he was smiling, like he was proud of himself, which made me smile in return.

“care to elaborate more?” i said.

“ah, it has to be a surprise. but don’t worry, you’ll be safe with me,” he says. and now i know for a fact he is donning a shit eating grin.

“people who say that always say it before they lead others into their impending doom,” i chuckle, shaking my head.

“do you really think i would put you in harm's way?” he says, feigning hurt.

“i don’t know, considering last week you tried to push me into my neighbor's bush, i would say yes,” i tease. i heard him gasp dramatically which produced more fits of laughter.

“i told you, i was testing a theory! and i did try to warn you. how did i know you had weak reflexes?” jungkook huffed.

“kook, yelling gibberish isn’t much of a warning,” i say through my laughter. my laughter slowly dies when there’s silence on the other end.

“did you hang up on me?” i ask, laughing again.

“sorry, i was giggling like a school girl because of the nickname you gave me,” he openly admits. i chuckle in return and roll my eyes again.

“i feel like kook barely qualifies as a nickname,” i say.

“don’t you dare call me anything else. i will only answer to kook from now on,” jungkook huffs, eliciting more laughter.

“ah, but what if i wanted to call you something else?” i say, a teasing edge to my tone.

“l-like what?”

“i don’t know, i’ve always thought you looked like a cute little bunny. maybe bun? or maybe even baby boy, since you are younger than me,” i say, further teasing him.

“you’re teasing and it’s not fair because you know i have a fat crush on you,” jungkook whines. i snicker and lay back on my bed.

“anyways bun, i gotta get going but i’ll see you at the session,” i smile, my eyes jumping around to random objects in my room.

“you never answered my question,” he mumbles, a definite pout on his lips.

“yes jungkook, i will go out with you,” i chuckled.

“two things. one, i’m bun. two, this isn’t a date. trust me, i wanna plan our first date out beforehand,” he states proudly.

“how do you know i’d say yes to a date?” i chuckle. we both knew i was joking because of course i would say yes to the boy who started to burrow his way into my everyday thoughts.

“you said yes to hanging out with me today, didn’t you?” he smirks, causing me to roll my eyes for the umpteenth time during our conversation.

“goodbye jungkook.”

“that’s baby boy to you.”

-

the session seemed to go as it normally did. everyone talking about their week and what they did to self improve in some way. as usual, namjoon waited until the very end to bring me up to the front.

“uhm, hi again,” i awkwardly chuckle. this elicited the crowd to chuckle with me, jungkook and yoongi’s snickers louder than the rest. i glared over at them, shoving my hands into my pocket.

“i guess, this week was a bit of an eye opener. i spoke to a close friend… about.. ya know. and i guess it was the first time somebody told me about… about that night. it was weird, ya know. you would think after doing it so many times, anything to do with it would brush right off. but… this was different. the hurt in his voice. how prominent the memory was… i guess i never really thought about the idea of someone else holding onto that pain despite me letting go of it. it just gave me a lot to think about…” i trailed off, noticing how my gaze was locked on the floor as i recounted the memory that was still fresh of hobi crying to me about the thought of losing me. it’s been bugging me since he told me and i couldn’t figure out why. i had come to the conclusion that maybe sharing it would get it off my mind. and oddly enough, there was a little release of pressure off of my chest, that i could breathe a bit easier.

“wow, thank you so much yn for sharing that. and you’re right. in our time of agony, we convince ourselves that we’re the only ones who ever really feel that pain. but pain knows no bounds. and neither does love.”

[incorrectlumityquotes]

FULL REVIEWS: “Enchanting Grom Fright”

The hype for this episode was unreal. We got the crew telling us that we weren’t ready on social media. It was a madhouse. To think that the little ship that could would have this big a leap in canon is unreal. Let’s just get to it.

The cold open starts with Luz trying to find more glyphs in her off time. I thinks it really shows her development so far. Now she’s willing to do the work to figure out her kind of magic, as oppose to say episode two where she just wanted to be great because she was “chosen.”

“My glyph skills are blossoming”

But then reality ensues...

Using the portal to let the wifi signal into The Owl House is not the dumbest reason I’ve heard to open an interdimensional portal between worlds but it is one of the most mundane. SOMEHOW, Luz can still receive texts from her mom FROM ANOTHER WORLD. Not that it makes too much of a difference since Luz barely answers them. 

As much fun as it is to focus on the magic and the shipping and the friendship and the curse, Luz still knows that she’s still lying to her mom. The guilt is there, but luckily being a main character keeps her too busy to think about it.

“Luz, time to fill that darling head of yours with...huuh huuh huuh HAKKK, mmm, mmm, mmh, delicious knowledge.”

Never change, Hooty.

It’s that time of year again that Luz doesn’t know about yet, Grom: The Boiling Isles’ weird version of prom. Every fantasy world has one. 

*hiss*

Amity bumps into Luz, and I know this is going to sound weird, but I really like Amity’s “Watch it, nitwit.” Amity’s character has changed and developed from our perspective which is the perspective of Luz and The Owl House fam. But she’s not a completely different character. Amity still has a bit of a temper and gets agitated easily. It makes sense to me and I’m glad I haven’t found anyone be like “Hey if Amity is nicer, why did she get mad when she bumped into someone?” 

Amity is nicer to Luz and co. because she’s gotten to know Luz and co. You don’t treat everyone in your life the same. Amity is one of those people that you need to defrost with first. Belief is backed up by experience and so are people’s personas. (Not that persona. I’m being serious here.) Because of Amity’s experiences, she’s believed that in order to survive she has to put people at arm’s length, then when she gets to know you, she’ll decide if she wants to let you in or not. So I guess that means that based on her interactions with Luz, Amity has decided...

You know what? I’ll save that for my Lumity meta.

The popular theory is that Amity was going to put her note in Luz’s locker, hence why she bumped into them. But actually seeing Luz and being announced as grom queen probably made her lose her nerve.

“Embrace your dreams...”

Amity is announced to be this year’s grom queen. Luz is happy for her before Amity runs in shock and embarrassment. Okay.

Luz discovers the gym’s weapons cache (not a thing I thought I would ever type) and Amity explains grom. Since Luz is from the human world and all that.

Grom is a monster that lives under the school and needs to be defeated every year so it doesn’t invade the town. It’s a classic shape-shifting fear monster. Odd are I have (and so have you) at least seen three or four of these in our lives already. Amity doesn’t want to show the entire school her greatest fear, especially since she already knows what it is. Luz suggest talking to Bump and Amity says she’ll try.

Another scene of Eda and King laughing and mocking Luz. Because I liked it so much the first time.

Eda gets dressed up herself because she’s volunteered to chaperone grom. Luz tells her that Amity is grom queen but wishes that she could take her place. We get...you know and Luz walks off. 

“I think we should kiss to ease the tension.”

Luz randomly meets up with Amity in the woods because I guess Amity had the same idea to take a walk to clear her head. Whatever. Amity tells Luz that Bump wasn’t going to change his mind unless Amity found a replacement. Luz volunteers because...she’s Luz, friend to all.

Except maybe that spider.

Top 10 Anime Betrayals

The Blight Siblings try to help Luz train against grom only for Eda to find out about their little plan. Here’s where we find out why Eda volunteered to chaperone a Hexside event even though she hates that place:

“What’s the fun in watching a kid get eaten by a monster if it’s my kid?”

That’s hilarious. To me. 

Luz and Amity have a moment before Luz’s debut and Amity thanks Luz for everything she’s done. They have more adorable banter before Luz takes the stage. 

“Wish me luck.”

“Luck.”

I’m guessing that’s not an expression in The Boiling Isles.

Luz faces Grom and it seems to be going better than everyone predicted until...you know

“Mija, this would be such a good shot for the trailer.”

Yup, we all predicted this. Luz’s greatest fear is her mom finding out that she’s been lying to her. Luz panics and takes off with Eda and Amity to chase after her.

Eda comes in for the save when Amity bursts in the scene saying “Boy let me tell you what.” She doesn’t really I just like saying that. You know, in my head. I mean, if you heard the way I was saying it out loud you’d probably think it was funny too but you know...text.

Grom gets a hold of Amity and transforms into her greatest fear. And we see why Amity didn’t want to face Grom in front of the whole school. She didn’t want everyone to see that Amity’s fear is very...emotional. Not physical. She’s not afraid of a giant spider or anything. It’s a little closer to the heart.

Amity clutching at her dress like a little kid is both the cutest and the saddest thing. This fear of hers is so bad it makes this fourteen year old feel like she’s four. I’m so sure she was about to cry right there. Or maybe that’s me. Could be both.

Luz picks up the note and discovers that Amity was trying to ask somebody out before she was announced as grom queen. Amity was afraid of being rejected. Luz tries to ease her fears by asking her out to grom. 

Trying seeing it from Luz’s point of view. She has no idea who Amity wants to ask out. Luz doesn’t even consider that it could be her because again, belief is backed by experience. Luz was considered a weirdo with no friends in the human world. She even said earlier in the episode that she got kicked out of her last school dance for dressing like an otter. Luz has no reason to believe that someone would like her romantically. She would like to. It is a fantasy of hers, but her experience tells her that other people don’t see her that way so she doesn’t consider that Amity wanted to ask Luz out.

I’ll save the rest for another blog post, although I did talk about this last year too.

But since Amity did want to ask Luz out and Luz asked her out instead, Amity’s fears are eased. Grom does what every fear monster does when their target overcomes their fears and says “Screw it, I’m just going to kick your ass!”

And then this happens:

As a Star vs the Forces of Evil fan, let me just say this is our Blood Moon Ball moment. The moment that the show tells the audience in John Oliver’s voice, “Yup this is the ship we’re doing so strap in folks.”

Luz and Amity work together to combine magic to take down Grom. It also helps that they eased each others’ fears. Luz can’t think about her mom if she’s focused on helping Amity. 

Luz and Amity defeat Grom in a blaze of glory. Luz being Luz, decides to ask Amity who she wanted to ask out just to see if she would tell you. Amity brushes it off.

“It doesn’t matter. After all, I already got to dance with the girl I like.”

Everyone celebrates but when Luz gets home she’s more tired than anything.

Maybe it was Grom, but Luz decides to give her mom a real answer. It’s been tough but it’s also been fun. There are good and bad days. Sometimes she feels like she doesn’t belong. But she has friends. They care about her, she cares about them, and that’s more than enough reason to stay. 

THEN THIS SHIT HAPPENS!

Yeah, the Meteora moment in Star vs the Forces of Evil. The moment where the show went “Never mind that shit. Here comes a complete change in the status quo.” 

Someone or something is sending Luz’s mom letters. It’s Luz’s handwriting, but it’s clearly not Luz since she can’t spell her name right. Season one already finished and we still have no idea what this is. 

I was all happy a second ago. Now I’m nervous as all hell. It’s a madhouse I tells ya. A madhouse!

FINAL SCORE: 5 - LOVED IT!

Wow. Just wow. This episode had everything. Jokes, plot, romance, character development, cameos, dancing, girls, MOM(?), crashing on your couch because technically I’m homeless.

I shipped Lumity before this, but this was the episode that told me that yes it was going to happen. We’re all in. 

But it’s not perfect.

Yeah, did any of you noticed that I didn’t even mention the B-plot? I’m going to be honest. The reason is...

I hate it.

I hate the B-plot so much that I skip it every time I watch this episode. I still don’t think Gus is that funny or interesting. Hell, Skara’s mini plot with her date and/or boyfriend was funnier.

But everything else about the episode more than outshines the B-plot so I still give it a five.

Next time we finish up the lumity trilogy next time.

Dammit I said next time twice.

[imaginesbymk]

“Find Me Under The Giant Rabbit.”

Reservoir Dogs/Pulp Fiction One Shot

SUMMARY: I read a Reddit fan theory that Mr. Pink survived, escaped the cops, got arrested and was then put on parole - leaving behind his old life and lying low as a waiter at Jack Rabbit Slims. What happens when you show up to the restaurant one night?

PAIRING: Mr. Pink/Buddy Holly waiter x Reader

TAGS: swearing, smoking + mentions of basically everything that happened in reservoir dogs which is the heist, violence, etc

NON REQUESTED

WORD COUNT: 2,870 (it’s long i’m sorry)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is probably the cheesiest thing i’ve ever written, and it’s nothing tarantino would ever put in his films, also there’s no way PF and RS can legitimately tie in together 100% even though there are some factors to support otherwise, but i wanted to write this and see something lol :( leave a like/reblog + feedback!!!

[gif credit]

YOU put your car in park, shutting off the engine, and observed it from afar. It was one hell of a big restaurant, almost a bit too cartoon-like. There was a giant anthropomorphic rabbit on top, and the lights claiming the name were glowing a bright red and yellow. Mind you, this was in Los Angeles, so who wouldn’t blame you if you took one look at Jack Rabbit Slim’s, and mistake it for a restaurant at Six Flags? 

Dozens of bikers came in with their motorcycles, yet their engines couldn’t even overpower the chatter coming from newcomers left and right. You ignored a heavy tattooed biker dressed in all leather and denim catcalling you from afar, and you reached the front desk. 

A man dressed in uniform, most definitely in character, tipped his hat at you and led you to a table with only two chairs. You weren’t expecting anyone to join you in the other seat across. So what if you went for dinner by yourself? You didn’t bother asking anyone to join you for that matter. Not anyone you could think of at the top of your head would be any less boring.

You began tracing your fingers around the rim of the ketchup bottle when not even five seconds after sitting down, a lady approached your table with ruby red lips. 

Of course, you thought. Servers were dressed up as icons from the 50s era.

“Marilyn,” you say in awe.

“Close enough,” Instead of being seated in the Marilyn Monroe section being served by a Marilyn Monroe-looking Marilyn Monroe, you were greeted with a tall Mamie Van Doren, who is just as breathtaking as Marilyn refilling everyone’s coffee mugs from the other side of the restaurant. “How about I get you started with drinks?”

Ricky Nelson’s performance on stage came to an end when Mamie arrived with your food. You looked around the place while eating. People weren’t eating by themselves. Families, friends, dates, all of them occupied their seats. Now that you’ve noticed, you sort of wished you brought someone with you, otherwise the seat across from you is used as a footrest. 

So there, you propped your feet on top, and relaxed… then you sat upright. Your eyes fixated on the waiter in his section, which were the cars back in the 50s used as booths. You watch him walk towards one of them. The couple was a young woman in a blunt bob cut with bangs, and a man wearing a black suit with long black hair tied back.

You squint your eyes. It couldn’t be...

“Hi, I’m Buddy. What can I get ya?”

You blinked, dropping the half bitten French fry from your mouth. Holy fucking shit.

It was all coming back to you. The news broke out about the heist going wrong at the wholesale, all dead except for one, a cop who laid dead on the ramp inside the rendezvous was identified as Mr. Orange. Since he wasn’t supposed to know where you were from, Mr. Pink never turned up to your door as an emergency hideout, or to drag you with him on his getaway because he never had one. You never heard of him ever since. 

Here he was, Mr. Pink, alive and well, wearing glasses. What the hell happened? How long has he been working here? Is he supposed to be Buddy Holly?

“How do you want that cooked? Burnt to a crisp or bloody as hell?” you hear him ask the man in the suit who ordered a steak.

“Bloody as hell, and oh, yeah, look at this- vanilla coke.”

You noticed the irony. He left you in a black suit - and he comes back in white. Like he’d ever want to be caught dead in white, or pink.

“What about you, Peggy Sue?” he asks the woman, jotting in his notepad. You recognized the pun.

“I’ll have the Durwood Kirby burger, bloody. And… the five dollar shake.”

Were you about to laugh? Call out his name? That was enough for you to get antsy in your seat, but you didn’t want to draw attention. You saw him again while finishing up half of your meal, giving the couple their drinks and disappearing back into the kitchen. He was doing his job, but it wasn’t like he was giving his one hundred percent. For someone who preached to the Gods about professionalism, Mr. Pink sure lacked work ethic. Every employee was on point with their character impersonations as if you had travelled back in time. Meanwhile, he acted like himself and seemed bored while wearing an emotionless face, as if he hated his job and epitome of his existence. It was never a dull moment for him whenever he was with you, though.

You got up to use the restroom.

“We’re lucky we got anything at all. I don’t think Buddy Holly’s much of a waiter,” you heard the man at the booth tell the woman as you walk past them, spotting their food from the corner of your eye. It’s no surprise hearing that. Mr. Pink never looked like the type to work at a job like this.

You sat back down and soon, Mr. Pink reappeared, standing over to the side and watched the announcement of the twisting contest, smoking a cigarette. You see him eyeing two pretty blonde women walking past him, and he looked back his way, now in your direction.

He finally did what you wanted him to do, and he stares at you for nearly a solid minute.

You waved awkwardly. 

Mr. Pink tosses the cigarette in a random person’s ashtray and disappears behind the door once again. You darted out of your chair, and marched your way to where he headed, just as the couple he served got up on stage to participate in the twisting contest.

A Zorro waiter jumps in front of you. “Stop right there, mi amor!” his eyes darted at you through the cheap black mask he was wearing. “I believe the bathroom’s on the other side of the bar.”

“Where’s Buddy?” you ask Zorro.

“I’m afraid Mr. Holly is taking a quick break from unenthusiastically serving love birds in their cars.”

“Can you tell him I’m looking for him?”

“Once I see him.” Zorro then took out his sword and pointed it at you, a grin plastered on his face. “Now, shall I escort you back to your dining spot?”

Although you were aware this guy was only in character, you didn’t wanna risk getting kicked out, or having a realistic looking sword ripped through your body. You sighed and turned around, heading back. You noticed at your table a folded napkin beside your empty plate. Mamie Van Doren was last seen there, her back facing you with her heels clicking away on the tiles.

“Excuse me!” you called after the waitress. She ignores you, smiling down at new customers at an umbrella table.

Cocking an eyebrow, you used your finger to flatten the crease and read the note in bold handwriting.

FIND ME UNDER THE GIANT RABBIT. - BUDDY 

You threw the door open and ran outside, precisely under the giant rabbit of the Jack Rabbit Slim’s sign, just like he said on the napkin. You felt like an idiot checking every direction to find no one. Not a lot of the bikers were seen riding or hanging out around the parking lot, some people were coming and going, but you couldn’t find Buddy Holly.

Defeated, you turn to walk back inside. 

Mr. Pink rushed out the door and caught his breath. It looked like he was chasing you down before you could take off. A song used for the twisting contest kept playing from inside.

You didn’t run up to him and jumped in his arms or anything dramatic in that matter. You both stared at each other.

A few days before the heist you two stood across each other waiting for Mr. Brown and Mr. White inside the hideout. It was a quiet moment, not an awkward one. He just took that opportunity to study you, as you did him. It took him that moment to realize he was warming up to you. 

“Well hello there, Buddy,” you smile smugly.

YOU and Pink loitered at the side of the eatery, where the back door to the kitchen was located. He had taken off his fake glasses, showing his full frame.

“Okay,” you watch him lean against the wall, lighting his cigarette. “Talk to me. What happened to you?”

“What the hell do you think? Cops tagged me when I tried driving away. I was put behind bars, and by some fucking miracle this place took me in when I needed money.”

“You didn’t know any other crime bosses looking for a lanky dude?” Pink rolls his eyes at your joke. “I know the heist went terribly wrong, I saw the news. Everyone’s dead as Dillinger.”

“That briefcase had a shit load of two million dollars worth of stones,” Pink blew smoke out. “I swear, if that asshole undercover cop was never sent to set us up, I could have been enjoying a cocktail in Santorini. You’re lucky you called in sick that day.”

You shuddered, remembering how god-awful the illness was. “Never again. I felt like I was being hot glued to a sauna.”

You remembered the day of the heist. In fact, you mentally prepared yourself for something that you’ve never done before. You braced for what was supposed to go smoothly as Joe promised. Instead, you were woken up by the worst case scenario above 38 degrees. You were thankful Joe took it easy on you and promised another job next time. 

“All right, your turn. What did you do after that shit show went down?” Pink asks you.

“Just did my own thing. I wasn’t there so the cops never searched for me.” Pink took a slow drag, staring at nothing. He didn’t really look the same as before. Still lanky, except his hair was a bit more darkened and styled in curls, possibly because Buddy Holly had it permed that way. But his face read that he had been through a lot. Normally you felt zero pity for assholes like him, but you managed to blurt out, “I missed you.”

Pink, blowing out smoke in the air, eyed you up and down and furrowed his brows. “Likewise.”

Not only did it suck not being able to make money, you also couldn’t do it with Mr. Pink. As much as he kept his professionalism to a T, he squeezed in time to get along with you. It was no wonder Joe hired you - you were different than the guys, you moved differently and never felt small. Mr. Pink was drawn to that. 

Maybe that was just an understatement. He grew intimidated by something he expected to experience the least from in the job, and of course, straight out of a fairytale, you had to stop and ask yourself if you felt the same way, and if what you felt was right. Neither of you had any idea. It was against the rules to give out personal information to each other, and Mr. Pink took those rules very seriously, even if it was just one job that he most likely wouldn’t come back to unless a higher pay was involved and Joe Cabot liked him enough to recruit him again. 

If Mr. Pink grew too attached, if he let his guard down for one second, God forbid something would have happened to you. Without a doubt, he would have heavily blamed himself and walked away from the job without saying another word. 

His options were to wait until after the robbery to make a move, or do his job, get paid and leave. Whether or not it was out of selfishness was out of the question. Mr. Pink is already selfish in an intuitive kind of way, he’d rather avoid spiraling into a wave of emotions for one person - so he chose the latter.

“What?” Pink looked at you, feeling a bit tense. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Huh? No. It’s nothing,” you blinked, realizing you were staring at him longer than you should have. You shook your head, most likely shaking off the intrusive thoughts. Maybe this wasn’t a good time to tell him what’s on your mind. 

If anything, he’s most likely sleeping with the Marilyn Monroe waitress. “It’s just… you shaved the goatee.”

Pink nodded, looking a bit annoyed that there was no facial hair left on his chin to rub. “Buddy Holly had a clean face. For the record, the only advantage of this job is that I’m under disguise. Other than that, this place is a circus. I’m zooming back in time whenever I clock in.”

“It’s a 50s themed restaurant,” you state. “Working here sounds like fun. At least you get to dress up and experience pop culture.”

He scoffs. “No, fuck the 50s. Shit was all I Love Lucy and those puffy ass dresses.”

“They’re called poodle skirts, Pink.”

“Like I give a fuck what they’re called.”

“You know Buddy Holly smiled. He was a singer and a guitarist. If you keep up the attitude, no one’s gonna tip you. Nice Guy Eddie told me about your rant on tipping.”

“Ha! And? You will never find me up on that stage performing That’ll Be The Day, moving like a fucking animatronic.” Halfway finished, Pink tossed his cigarette aside and looked at you. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

You felt your cheeks flushing. Fuck. “I am?”

He nodded, putting his Buddy Holly glasses back on his face. “Yeah. It’s a breath of fresh air seeing you here.” He stares down at his wristwatch for a moment.

“Your break’s done?”

“It’s been done,” he says. “Fifteen minutes ago.”

You shook your head, chuckling. “You’re so fired.”

“This isn’t the first time I stopped caring, so my boss isn’t gonna bat an eye.” He had his hand wrapped around the back door which was supported by a wooden block to keep it open. “Look, I’ll see ya arou-”

“Pink?” Your heart rose up to your throat.

He turned back to you. “Hm?” 

You just had to do it. You reached up and kissed him softly. Pink didn’t shove or curse at you. His features softened, pulling you close to him and kissed you deeply. Even when you two pulled away, his arms didn’t unwrap from your waist. His forehead was pressed against yours now.

“My name’s Y/N,” you tell him.

He stares at you, no snarky, sarcastic comment left for him to give.

“I know you’re not willing to give your name up just yet, you can’t fully trust me, and I get that, but I won’t tell anyone what happened. You got lucky, I think… but I’m really glad you’re okay.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I’m serious.”

“Y/N,” he says your name for the first time. “You don’t have to go all sappy for me. Karma came in hot. Jesus Christ, I mean, I left you.”

“Not really. You didn’t know me. The cops had the place staked out the entire day, there was nothing you could do.”

He looked down at his shoes. “All right. But still, I feel shitty. Can I at least make it up to you?”

“How?”

Pink shrugs. “I get paid tomorrow.”

“Good for you,” you reply. “Save it like you’re gonna lose it.”

“I’ve had this job for a while now, I got enough to last. But once I win the lottery, I’m gone.”

“To Santorini?”

“With a cocktail in my hand. But that’s besides the point, right now I got enough to take you out on a date… if you’re down.”

“Where would you plan on taking me? Here?” you laugh.

“You’re funny. How about the movies? Overruled, I’m taking you to see a movie. I gotta know where you live first. It’s okay to know now.”

You nodded, you couldn't argue with that. Besides, you two would just be making out in the dark the entire time.

His hand was back on the handle of the back door. Pink pulled it open, looked back at you and smiled for the first time tonight. That warmed your heart, and you were certain it warmed his. He watched you stuff something inside his pocket square as you told him your address. He went back inside, shutting the door on you. You walked back to the front of the restaurant to pay for the bill, and went straight home. 

Mr. Pink shuffles past the chefs in the kitchen, feeling through his suit pocket to pull out his notepad and whatever you stuffed inside just moments ago.

I didn’t even serve them. Is this supposed to be for Mamie Van Doren? He stares down at the dollar bill crumpled in his hand. His frown suddenly transitions to a small but genuine smile. 

Fuck it. Nothing could stop him now. He definitely owes you a date night. He quickly stuffs the tip back in his pocket square, and comes out the sliding door. 

THE END

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TAGLIST: @locke-writes​ @aryn-the-bearheart​