#and the other baby boys (grown-ass men)

[artsymeeshee]

Things never change

[classyrbf]

ᯓ★ YOU TURN ME ON! — JJK MEN

SYNOPSIS...what turns the jjk men on? Don’t worry, I’m here to tell you!

INFO...jjk men (geto, gojo, nanami, toji, choso, higuruma, sukuna) x fem!reader, sexual and non sexual turn ons (kinda), whispering, eye contact, tight clothing, shower sex, p in v, hair pulling, oral (f!receiving and m!receiving), pheromones (?), mention of glasses (sukuna), facial (sukuna), not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

GOJO

gojo loves when you whisper in his ear. Something about you being so close to him, feeling your breath on his skin just does something to him. He gets immediate chills up his body and a small little smirk on his face. It doesn’t even have to be sexual either, you could whisper the most basic shit and he’d be giggling like a school girl cause he just loves hearing your voice in that tone. Now, when it is sexual…that man will nut inside of you without warning. You’re moaning and whispering in his ear? He’s a goner, quite literally on another planet. Nibble on his ear a little and his eyes will roll back. Sometimes you’ll do it in purpose while you two are out in public and he gives you the biggest pout ever. “Baby, don’t do that to me c’mon,” he whines. He damn near dragged you to the car and fucked you in the backseat…

NANAMI

nanami loves eyes contact a little too much. Sometimes it’s intimidating because he’s such a stoic man and doesn’t show very much emotion in his face, so he will just stare at you. But overtime you’ve grown to be comfortable with making eye contact with him, just staring lovingly while he talks about work or whatever. He stares into your eyes so much that he can tell what you’re thinking and feeling. More specifically, he knows when you’re in the mood, the little glint in your eye while you smile at him, looking at him up and down like he’s a piece of meat. In that case, expect eye contact during sex! Nanami loves missionary just looking at you, forehead pressed against yours, and he can’t get over that pleading look, batting your pretty lashes at him while you moan his name. “Yes, right here, baby. Keep looking at me. There’s my girl,” he softly sighs.

TOJI

toji loves tight clothes (no surprise). He genuinely thinks you look good in anything, but something about seeing the outline of your body makes him a crazed man. He will nonstop be touching you, handing on your ass, waist, titties, thighs…he does not give a damn. You could be wearing your pajamas and he will still find you sexy. You bend over in something tight? He’s now hard and has to fix the problem, not that he minds. He bends you over right there on the couch with your shorts around your ankles. It’s date night? He’s excited because you’re gonna wear that new dress he bought you—the one that hugs your body so well, showing off all your curves. Wandering eyes follow your every movement while you get ready and be chews on his bottom lip while he thinks of everything he wants to do to you. “Yeah, doll, I don’t think we’ll be making it to dinner tonight,” he chuckles.

GETO

geto loves soapy titties. Now I know that’s like very specific…but I just see him getting turned on by soapy tits for some reason (I don’t make the rules). He doesn’t care what size they are, what they look like, just throw some soap and water on them bad boys and he’s a satisfied man. Bonus points if you send him an unexpected photo in the shower while he’s away. He almost drops his phone while waiting in line for food because he can’t believe his eyes—your perky nipples and soap cascading down your entire body. Expect shower sex…a lot of shower sex. He will go out of his way to help you wash up, trying to be all nice and polite but minutes later his hands are groping your chest and playing with your nipples, soap running between his fingers while he fucks you against the shower wall. “They look so pretty in my hands, baby. I love ‘em.” He lazily smiles.

CHOSO

choso loves when his hair gets pulled or when you play with his hair. He only discovered this when you were doing his hair and accidentally pulled it and to his surprise (and yours) he let out a small whimper. Now you go out of your way to tease him, tugging at his hair whenever you walk by, giggling when he huffs in annoyance. He likes laying on your chest and you just run your fingers through his hair, he immediately melts into your touch. Oh but Choso definitely likes it when you tug at his hair when he’s eating you out…why wouldn’t he? It makes him so hard when he feels your fingers entangle in his hair, pulling and tugging at it while you basically ride his face for your pleasure. You only tug harder when you get closer and closer to your orgasm and his dick is throbbing. “Yes, yes, pull on my hair, please, please,” he begs.

HIGURUMA

higuruma gets turned on when you smell good, whether it’s your natural smell or your perfume, conditioner, lotion, whatever you use. You’d walk by him one day in the kitchen, greeting him when came home from work and he stops in his tracks and sniffs the air a couple of times because you smell so good…??? Like really good to the point he just wants to devour you, hold you, do whatever to you. He’ll hold you close and just smell your hair, your skin, kissing you over and over while his hands roam your body. And if you wear a scent that evokes memories of you two, like a first date or something like that…he pounces on you like a tiger. “How do you smell so fucking good? God, I could just eat you up right now…would you let me?”

SUKUNA

sukuna loves glasses. Yes I said it. Modern sukuna more specifically cause yk…But he will see a woman with glasses and think about how cute her face looks, how smart she looks…the innocent thoughts at first, and then his evil, horny ass would think about what they would look like when he’s fucking you. He can never be wholesome. Will they fog up? Will you let him cum on them? Do you even keep them on? Will they break if he fucks you too hard? All questions that need to be answered. So yes, he eventually fucks a woman with glasses and god does he love it. He finds it adorable when you push up your glasses every ten seconds cause he’s pounding into you too hard. He loves it when you look over them while giving him head. And yes, they do fog up. “Gonna let me cum all over your face? Yeah..? No, no, keep them on for me,” he devilishly smirks, licking his lips.

taglist (comment to be added):

@valleydoli @zxnxy @screechingbasementprincess @lexluthorbutnotbald @lynxslokley @briyah0 @levisjinchuriki @maiiluvs @levizonlywife @xllizs @sm8th0p @waterfal-ling @bonneyzsk @ventila98

[wtfsteveharrington]

after midnight | carmen berzatto x reader

summary: chicago is expensive, okay? so you pick up a job outside of the restaurant which just so happens to involve your camera. everything's fine until richie stumbles upon the website and shares it with camry.

contents: perv!carmy, male & female masturbation, sex toys, dirty talk, cam sex, slight dub-con kinda if you look for it. carmy’s honestly a wreck. mentions of unprotected sex, choking, oral sex, overstimulation. please note!! no formal intercourse takes place yet but it's cuming coming but ya girl wants a slow burn

reader description: she/her pronouns, there is semi a hair scene but i use no real descriptors so still vague!

word count: basically 3.9k

author notes: first fic in a year baby and boy did i lose the plot!! filth!! also i sure love saying fuck in this so enjoy that

part two

★–————————–

Richie’s voice is annoying. It echos, ricochets off the walls, and can’t be contained by even the highest quality of sound proofing. Which is why, at 8 in the morning, Carmen’s already considering having to take Excedrin as Richie bursts through the doors. 

“Carmy, Cousin, you’re never gonna fuckin’ believe what I found last night.” He’s out of breath after running in, fumbling around with his phone in a rush to pull something up. He’d spent all night contemplating if he texted Carmen or waited to show him in person. Ultimately the urge to see his reaction won but that didn’t stop Richie from waking up before his alarm out of excitement. “Listen, we’re both grown ass men so I’m gonna say it -“ he’s glancing around to make sure they’re alone, “- So I’m laying there and jerkin’ my shit, right?” 

Carmen’s wincing, pinching the bridge of his nose and contemplating every decision that brought him back to Chicago. 

“Dude, fuck off. I don’t wanna hear -“ Richie tsks, cutting him off. 

“Nah, shut the fuck up because you wanna hear this. In fact, you’re gonna wanna fall to your knees and kiss my shoes and praise my ass as a thank you for finding this.” 

He’s holding up his phone, an iPhone 8 he refuses to upgrade, and illuminated on the screen is a video of you. You, on your knees, in lingerie. You, with your fingers dragging down your chest, across the lace that covers your breasts. Your head falls back as you run your thumbs across your nipples. A sound so angelic coming from your lips that Carmen starts to understand why people spend so much time at Church. He’s convinced you’re hand carved by God, or Buddha, or whatever might be up there. 

Carmy’s instantly feeling a rush of heat across his chest and his cheeks as he takes the sight of you in. It feels wrong but at the same time the coiling in his stomach feels so good he can’t look away quite yet. “Why the…” He’s cut off by a whine coming from Richie’s speaker as you keep teasing yourself. His brain is frying for a second as he tries to focus on finishing his sentence. “How the hell did you find this?” 

“Listen, sometimes I get bored on the same ole sites, okay? Clicked an ad to see who was live and ended up here. Now I stopped watching, obviously, out of respect but this? I’ve known you long enough to know when you gotta thing for someone and you’re not gonna act on it. Also, I caught you staring at her ass as she filled the deep freeze the other night. Kinda gave it away. So this is the way you can still get some pussy while being a fuckin’ pussy.” Richie’s punching the air, clearly proud of himself.

Carmy’s smacking him upside the head, his body now torn between lust and annoyance. “Watch your mouth, alright? That is so fucked, Richie. Put that shit anyway and I better not see you tell a single other person this exists.” 

And yeah, he took note of your screen name before he walked away. Don’t judge him. 

———★–————————–

Look - There have been a lot of times in his life where Carmen hasn’t been proud of himself. But settling back into bed, hooking his thumbs on the waistband of his boxers and pulling them down to rest under his balls? Yeah, he’s not proud to say the least. After seeing even just the glimpse of you this morning though it’s been all he could think about. The. Whole. Fucking. Day. He watched out of the corner of his eye while you bent over the line to scrub down the wall behind your station tonight. Burning to memory the way your ass just slightly jiggled from the aggressive motion of wiping down the surface. A soft grunt coming from you as you reach for something just a little too high. He finally snapped out of it when the smell of the chemicals he sprayed down on his own surface got a little too strong and refocused. 

He wasn’t proud when he ran to the restroom and contemplated just jacking off over the toilet to get some relief. You were clouding his brain, only the rush of the evening giving him some small relief. 

You seemed vocal in the small clip he saw. He’s wondering if you would have asked him to cum for you. Would you think it’s a waste that he’s cumming down the drain instead of covering your ass with it? Filling your mouth and making you swallow every drop around him? Or, Jesus Christ, would you wrap your legs around his waist and beg him not to pull out? 

So yeah. Carmy’s had quite the fucking day to say the least. 

He’s finally home and running straight to bed. His stuff dropped in a heap by the front door and was easily forgotten. Throwing himself back onto the mattress after ripping off his shirt and his pants. Left just groaning into the empty room, his cock twitching at the thought of you. Your page has been sitting on an Incognito tab all day and it’s finally, finally being loaded up. This feels like an invasion of privacy in a way but Carmen can’t quite think logically with how heavy his balls feel and how painfully hard he is. There’s not much time to spare so he clicks the first video you’ve uploaded that he can.

And there you are. 

Sitting in the middle of a big bed and rubbing your hands along your thighs, smiling at the camera. His heart is twitching, cock is twitching, everything is fucking twitching. And you’re just sitting there, licking your lips and sliding your hands under the thin material of some weird lace one piece he wants to rip off. 

“Hi there, Pretty Boy.” Your voice is music to his ears and Carmy can’t take it any longer. His fist is wrapping around his cock, a broken moan filling the room as he finally gets some relief. “I’ve been waiting for you to come home all day.”

Sue him, but he’s skipping ahead a little. There’s not much time until he cums and he needs to see you. All of you. He’s gripping his phone with one hand, bringing the other that’s around his cock up to his mouth to spit in. His thumb is haphazardly trying to keep the phone balanced while scrubbing through the video until he thinks he’s at a good spot. You’re laid back now, thighs spread for the camera and pussy on display. Carmen’s muttering to himself about how gorgeous you are, longing to tell you in person. You’re holding this royal blue dildo in your hands that’s suddenly his biggest enemy. He deserves to be there, not this stupid, useless chuck of silicone. There’s a whimper from the speaker as you take the toy and slide it along yourself, tapping it twice against your clit. “Fuck, I need you.” 

Fuckin’ hell does he needs you too. 

His fist is clamped around his dick once again, fucking his hips up into the the slick, tight grip. You’re still teasing yourself by sticking just the head of the dildo in before gasping and pulling it back out. “Please, Baby. I need you so bad, need to come for you.” His brain is breaking. An animalistic urge taking over to fuck you until you can’t move, can’t think, just a blubbering mess begging him for more. Without warning you push the dildo all the way in, throwing your head back with a pleasured scream. 

Carmy gasps, hips sputtering and losing their rhythm as he watches you fuck yourself. He’s stroking himself at the same pace you’re moving the dildo, imaging it’s you he’s fucking into. Picturing you laid under him, your breasts covered in hickies because he hates the idea of these… Perverts watching you get off. He wants to mark you, claim you as his. His balls are tightening and he can’t think of the last time he came this quick. It’s almost embarrassing - What are you doing to him? 

Your free hand comes up to shove two fingers in your mouth, lewdly sucking them for the camera. The sucking noise now accompanying the wet, addictive sounds of your pussy being fucked. Carmen whimpers, actually fucking whimpers, and twists his wrist over his cock to get a little more friction. Your voice hits him once again as you slide your wet fingers out of your mouth and down your throat. “Oh fuck I’m so close. So, so close. Are you close, Baby? Want you to come with me.” You’re lightly choking yourself, a whining mess. 

Carmy’s aware he’s talking to an empty room but he can’t stop himself. “Fuck, oh fuck. Gonna come for you.” And his stomach coils, hips sputter, the phone falling to the bed as he has to let go of it as his orgasm washes over him. He’s slack jaw, warm cum landing on his chest and the sounds of you finishing at the same time ringing out from his phone. 

Oh he’s so fucked. 

————–——★–————

Carmy slept well for once in his life. His orgasm lulling his body to sleep, dreams filled of you. How beautiful you look sucking his cock. The way you must sound while he eats you out. And he takes his time in his dream. Tongue dragging between your folds as his rough hands hold your hips in place. You’re powerless, made to lay back and let him eat you out for his own pleasure. Tongue circling around your clit but he waits until you’re close to tears to stop teasing. He’d praise you. “Look how fucking wet you are, Princess. You’re already getting the bed wet, aren’t you? Gonna have to lick you for hours to get you all cleaned up. Can you say please, huh? Ask me to suck on your clit, Baby. You know you need it.” 

He woke up hard and overstimulated, rolling over onto his stomach and pathetically dragging his hips against the warm bed to get some much needed friction along his cock. Carmy’s telling himself how pathetic this is and forcing himself to push off the bed and get into the shower before he’s late. 

Yes, he jacked off in the shower before work. 

He had to. 

Carmy can’t decide if it’s heaven or hell when he walks in to see you standing in the kitchen. 

You’re on your tiptoes, balancing haphazardly as you’re reaching up to change the light. There’s a wobbly step stool under you. Everyone keeps saying it needs to be replaced but it continues to live on. Your face is scrunching up in concentration. Carmy’s chuckling at the sight and ignoring the way he feels his balls tug at the sight of you. “What’re you doing there, Chef?” 

You huff in annoyance, finally untwisting the light cover from the ceiling. “Damn light went out right as I started veggie prep. Hate to be a bother but will you come spot me while I’m up on this thing? I’ve seen Fak bust his ass one too many times to trust it.” 

Carmy can’t verbally respond at first, instead stalking over to stand next to you. His hand comes up to cup the back of your knee and he’s lying to himself saying it’s for your own safety. To keep you balanced. “Yea well something tells me you’re less clumsy than Fak. I’ve seen that guy fall over while just standing still.” 

And you laugh. 

You laugh. At him. At his joke. He, Carmen Berzatto, made you laugh. The sound filling his ears and now his damn heart and balls are both reacting to you and what the hell is he supposed to do with all these emotions. 

“Don’t distract me up here, Chef.” He doesn’t mind taking commands from you. Silently reaching up to hold the light fixture you’re passing him as you change gears to switch out the lightbulbs now. 

And maybe his eyes are wandering around the kitchen to see who else might catch a glimpse of you two together. Everyone who’s in so far is honed in on their prep task and Carmy thanks God that Richie hasn’t shown up yet today. 

He’s become quite faithful since he started falling for you it seems. 

It happens, by chance, that you feel a little unsteady and Carmen tightens his grip on the back of your leg. Fingers digging into your soft skin. He’s looking down at the stool to make sure it’s level before looking up to take in the sight that is his hand around your leg. 

And he stops looking there. 

Okay fine that’s a fucking lie - he’s looking up. Eyes trailing up your thighs, following along the curve of your ass. When you have to lean forward just slightly to twist in the light cover he’s convinced he can see the outline of your pussy through the thin material of your leggings. He’s contemplating his options - If he could, would he lean in and lick over the outline? His warm mouth teasing you through your leggings. Through your underwear. Are you wearing underwear? He’s torn between picturing you with or without them. 

Or would he slide his hand up your leg, palming your thigh as he goes. Cupping over you and dragging his middle finger across the shape of you. Memorizing the feeling. Would you whine? Grind down against his hand? He doesn’t think you’d shoo his touch away. 

God he just knows you’re a needy little thing. 

He wonders what it would feel like for you to lick your own wetness from his jaw after he’s decided he’s done savoring you. To taste you on your own tongue when he kissed you after. You’d look so pretty with his cum dripping down your lips too. All fucked out and exhausted and full of bliss. 

“Okay, I think I got it fixed, Carmy.” God, he’s so fucked for thinking of you like this as you’re innocently changing the light. Just trying to improve the kitchen and he’s thinking about ruining you. He was so caught up in daydreaming that he didn’t even feel you take the light cover back out of his hand and screw it into place again. 

You’re beaming down at him, using his shoulders as arm rests as you bounce down from the stepping stool. His hand grazes your ass - A total accident. He swears it. You reach behind him to sit the screwdriver down, your chest firmly against his. Nothing thinking anything of the personal space violation as you’re used to it from so many slammed nights in the kitchen. 

“Thank you for helping me. Sorry it was basically just five minutes of my ass in your face.” Carmy chokes. 

His cheeks are hot. 

Fuck is he blushing? 

He’s sputtering out of his words. “It uh, it wasn’t in my face. Not that I looked, y’know. Just uh… Just - just trying to say that I’m happy to help.” He sounds like an idiot

You’re cocking an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “Holy shit, Carmy.” You pat your hands against his chest, not knowing your touch was like fire on his skin. He grabs the screwdriver and makes a beeline to the office to put it away for you. 

Sure he grabbed a rag on the way. No it’s not for him to jack off into while he thinks of you. 

Okay fine, it is. 

“Fuck me.” The only thing Carmy can risk trying to say as the door shuts heavy behind him and his pants hit the ground. 

———————–★–———

Carmen doesn’t avoid you now but he certainly makes it hard to get close to you. He’s too distracted when you’re around. Maybe there’s a bit of guilt mixed in too at his new night routine. Leave the restaurant, load your page, and wait to see what happens. New videos? New pictures? You were wormed into the back of his brain and it had to stop. 

So your station got moved further down rotation. You’re at the end of the line on the left, he’s at the start on the right. It helps clear his mind, lets him hone in on perfecting what goes to the floor. 

He’s able to move quickly, shifts blowing by as the restaurant’s rush takes all his attention. The clock clicks down two minutes till close, everyone working in silence to get the place flipped and go home. He’s wrapping up with Syd, helping her make a few adjustments to expo before grabbing a dead plate off of the end of the line and heading to the office with his food and a cup of water in hand. He needs a mental minute, a bite of food, and to let his thoughts all catch up. 

The door’s already cracked and he’s halfway through the entry way when he registers you. Sitting there. At his desk. Your legs are crossed, a cool damp towel resting over your eyes. He wants to turn on his heel and retreat but decides that he can’t treat you any differently just because he’s developed some silly little crush. Running away would be treating you different. 

“You good, Chef?” 

To which you groan. Different from the ones he’s used to - This one is guttural, pained. You press your hands flat against the rag and will the cool temperature to help the pressure in your head. “Killer migraine, that’s all. Shit was moving so fast tonight and I wacked the back of my head on something in the walk in. Sorry for being in here, Carm. Just uh, needed a second.” You should push up out of the chair, show your respect. But right now you’re half convinced that standing up would be detrimental so for now you’re cemented to the seat. 

“Heard.” Carmen nods to himself, sitting down the plate before opening up the desk drawer as quietly as possible. Your knee is pressing into the side of his thigh, grounding and warm. He fishes out a bottle of medicine, shaking out two pills. “Hold out your hand.” 

You take a second to brace yourself for movement, sitting up and moving the towel off your eyes. Letting it pile up into a clump on the desk besides you. There’s no way around it - You look pitiful. Pouting up at Carmen as he hands over two pills and his cup out water. You take the pills diligently, taking a few gulps and letting your eyes fall back closed as you will them to kick in instantly. “Can I ask a favor?” 

“Anything, Chef.” 

Slowly, so not to shake yourself up, you turn the chair until your back is to Carmen. “Will you see if I gotta bump back there? Kinda terrified I gave myself a concussion but I don’t wanna believe it was that hard.” 

He snickering, a grin pulling up the corners of his mouth as he steps closer. “Well you’d absolutely fuck me if you needed to file workmen’s comp so I’m gonna need you to be fine, ‘kay? Way too much fuckin’ paperwork to do on a Friday night.” You start to laugh but it’s quickly cut off into a small groan of appreciation as you feel warm, rough hands clasp either side of your shoulders. 

Carmen works his way up your neck and catches himself holding his breath as his fingers brush along your scalp. He’s taking his time, savoring the moment, all under the pretense of taking care of his employee. That’s all. “Think we’re both in the clear. You feeling alright besides the headache? Need me to hold up some fingers for ya to guess? Haven’t managed to cut any off so we’ve got all ten to work with.” He’s got you laughing again while rough fingers work their way back down to your neck. The feeling of the vibration of your laughter against his hands sending chills down his back. 

Wordlessly Carmen gets to work rubbing your shoulders. Tender, deep. Years of practice rolling out dough and desserts and tenderizing meat coming into play as he continues to knead away at your tense body. You let out an appreciative moan and Carmen has to start thinking of something to keep his inevitable hard on from being obvious. 

When his hands come up closer to your neck once again he’s hit with flashbacks of the first video he watched. You choking yourself — Is that something you truly liked? If his hand came around to cup your throat, palm resting on one side with his fingertips firmly against the other, and lightly squeezed would you moan? Rub your thighs together in search of some hint of relief? 

“Are you always this good with your hands, Chef? Hmm? Can’t imagine you giving Marcus this treatment.” You’re laughing and can practically hear the smirk in Carmen’s voice as he responds. “Yeah - You uh, didn’t know that? I just love you know, rubbing shoulders. It’s my thing. Kick your ass all night and then rub the stress out.” 

He’s blanching a little at his reply. Kinda obvious but okay then, Carmen. You reach up, putting your hands atop his with a little smile. “Well thank you for… Rubbing my stress out, Chef.” 

Carmen’s red. Head to toe just bright red. “Of course, Chef. Anytime.” He’s entertaining to say the least as you pat his hands before spinning around in his chair. You snag another drink of water, throwing him a wink before moving to exit the office. Your hand runs along his chest, an appreciative gesture, as you head back to the floor. 

——————————★–

Late Saturday night Carmen’s so exhausted that he barely has the energy to take his work clothes off. Falling haphazardly onto his old couch, kicking his work boots off one at a time. His eyes are heavy, body aching, and he almost falls asleep before he gets to see you. 

But he’s fishing his phone from his pocket, refreshing the all too familiar landing page to see you’re actively live. How you have the energy is beyond him. 

You’re standing there trying on clothes that someone must send in and Carmy feels a pang of jealousy. He’s watching through half hooded eyes as you slip in a pair of shorts, turning your behind towards the camera and pulling them up just slightly to put more of your ass on display. You’re chatting away about the material while slowly pulling them down to reveal just this frilly little pair of panties that was sent in as well. 

He’s propping the phone up on the armrest of the couch, laying on his side while he watches you chat away. It’s soothing. Almost like an ASMR video. 

Carmen’s not sure when he fell asleep - Somewhere in-between you trying on a third outfit and attempting to clean up your bed from all the packaging. He finds you soothing, comforting. He makes a mental note to hunt out some sort of wish list you must have for these items before passing out and, once again, dreaming of you.

[keraawrites]

Act right

Summary: Surburan Bakugo always got what he wanted, new watch? Got it. New trainers? Got them, you? Now that he had to work for you, especially as you laughed in his face and told him he wasn't your type. ۶ৎ Bakugo x black fem reader ۶ৎ

Context: Use of the word Nigga, hoodish reader, tattoos, nipple piercing, nickname (baby, mama, ma), unprotected sex, oral (m&f receiving), doggy, kitchen counter,

Babble: ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚Happy birthday to the one and only King explosion murder God ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Word count — 4.8k

The party was packed. Warm bodies pressed together, bass shaking the walls, the air thick with liquor and smoke. It was the type of function where people came to be seen—and if there was one thing Bakugo hated, it was being just another face in the crowd.

But that was before he saw you.

Standing by the couch, one hand wrapped around a hookah hose, the other lazily scrolling through your phone, you didn’t even look like you were trying. Skin glowed under the neon lights, nails long and glossy as they clacked against the screen. Your baby hairs were slicked to perfection, and your outfit? Hugging your body in ways that made more than a few heads turn.

Bakugo didn’t move at first. Just stood there, tongue running over his teeth, watching the way you took a slow drag from the hookah before exhaling, like you had all the time in the world.

“Tch,” he scoffed, knocking back the rest of his drink before making his way over. Heads turned as he passed—because of course they did. He wasn’t just anybody. His family had money. Real money. He was used to girls being all over him before he even had to say a word.

You looked up when he got close, one perfectly arched brow raising like you weren’t the least bit impressed. Bakugo smirked, bracing a hand on the couch beside you.

“What’s your name, ma?”

You exhaled another slow stream of smoke. “Why?”

His grin widened. “So I know what to call you when I’m makin’ you cream on my cock later.”

That’s when you did it. The worst possible thing he could imagine.

You laughed.

Not a cute little giggle. Not a shy little smirk. A real, full-blown, damn near disrespectful laugh.

And then you turned to your friend like, “Girl, he funny as hell.”

Bakugo blinked. Did you just—did you just laugh at him? Like he was a joke?

You turned back to him, still grinning. “First of all, lil’ boy, you not even my type.”

Little boy?

“Mmhmm.” You tapped his chest lightly with one manicured finger, like you were humoring him. “I like my men real. Rough hands. You look like you had a maid till you was damn near grown.”

Bakugo sucked his teeth. “What, you want a bum?”

“I want a man.”

The challenge in your eyes sent a spark of heat through his veins. Oh, you thought he was just some soft little trust fund baby? Thought he didn’t know shit about struggle?

That was cute.

“That why you over here playin’ games?” Bakugo asked, tilting his head.

You sucked your teeth. “Ain’t nobody playin’ wit’ you, boy. I just know yo’ type.”

“Yeah?” His voice dropped. “And what type is that?”

You leaned in, voice honey-sweet. “The type to get whatever he want… except me.”

Then you turned, real smooth, and strutted off—leaving Bakugo standing there, fists clenched, jaw tight and a fucking hard-on.

For someone who claimed he “didn’t chase,” Bakugo sure had been on your ass since the party.

It started with a follow request. You let it sit. Then came the first DM:

Bakugo: Yo.

Simple. Direct. No emojis. No fluff. You left him on read.

A few hours later:

Bakugo: You mad dry.

Bakugo: Bet you be eatin’ up these other dudes' messages tho.

You smirked at your phone, amused, but kept it moving.

By the next morning, he had liked three of your pictures—ones where you knew you looked good, but not the thirst traps. Nah, he went for the casual heat, like the one of you posted up in your car with your lip gloss popping, or the one where you were holding your godchild, just vibing.

Bakugo: You always this hard to get in touch with?

You: You always this pressed?

Bakugo: Tch. Keep playin' like I won’t pull up.

You hit him with the ultimate disrespect: a single, cold “lol.”

And if that wasn’t a downright invitation then he didn’t know what was.

He started showing up at functions you were at—always looking good, always staying just close enough for you to notice. And when you'd walk past?

"Oh, so you don’t see me?"

Loud. Too loud. Making sure everyone heard.

You’d roll your eyes, playing it off. “Boy, ain’t nobody worried about you.”

But honestly? You were noticing.

How he never let another girl get too close. How he wasn’t just flexing money—he was dripping with raw confidence. And that smirk? It was cocky as hell, but his eyes? His eyes were locked on you, like you were the only thing worth looking at.

And the texts kept coming.

Bakugo: I know you see me, ma.

You: Do I?

Bakugo: You funny. Let’s grab food.

You: Can’t.

Bakugo: You can. You just don’t wanna.

You: Correct.

He was so deep in it, and you could see the frustration building up in his texts. It was kinda cute.

You found it even funnier how he kept popping up everywhere. Like that night you saw him leaning against his car outside a party, talking to someone—but the moment he saw you, that conversation ended fast.

“Hey, ma,” he said, stepping into your path like he had the right to.

You crossed your arms, trying to keep it cool. “Oh, so we stoppin’ people in the street now?”

He smirked. “If that’s what it takes.”

You shook your head. “Boy, I told you—”

“I know what you told me,” he cut you off, voice dipping low. “And I don’t give a fuck.”

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “That so?”

The blonde licked his lips, eyes dragging over your outfit—black cargos, a cropped leather jacket, barley hiding the pink velvet bra that cupped your tits, and a chain hanging from your neck with your name in silver. Damn, he’d give anything to have his name there instead.

“C'mon, ma, at least smoke with me. If after tonight you still think I can’t keep up with you, then I’ll leave you alone.”

You eyed him, letting the silence stretch as you bit your lip. Katsuki was sexy, no doubt, but you’d never really given white guys a chance before.

But… free weed?

You sighed, tapping a nail against your phone. “Your weed any good, or we just gonna use up my stash?”

His smirk was instant. He should’ve thought of this weeks ago.

“Baby, we got the same dealer,” he said, stepping closer, voice dripping with confidence. “Trust me—the weed’s good.”

And with that, you found yourself walking toward his car.

Katsuki’s car smelled like leather and faint cologne, the kind that wasn’t overbearing but definitely expensive. You slid into the passenger seat, legs crossed, watching as he pulled out a fresh pack of Backwoods and a jar of weed that was most definitely not mids.

You raised an eyebrow. “So you wasn’t cappin’ about the weed.”

He scoffed, already breaking down the bud with practiced ease. “What I gotta lie for?”

You just hummed, watching his hands work. His fingers were fast, rolling with the kind of efficiency that told you he did this a lot. He tossed the blunt in his mouth, sparked it, and inhaled like it was second nature.

“Ladies first,” he said, exhaling thick clouds before passing it to you.

You took it, bringing it to your lips, letting the familiar burn hit before blowing out slow. “Least you got some manners,” you teased.

“Only ‘cause I want somethin’ from you,” he shot back, eyes gleaming in the low light.

You chuckled, shaking your head as you took another pull. “Honesty is crazy.”

Bakugo leaned back in his seat, legs spread in that way men did when they were too comfortable. “I am honest. Ain’t my fault these other dudes be lyin’ to get what they want.”

“And what exactly do you want?”

He smirked, reaching over to take the blunt from your fingers, the brush of his skin against yours sending a little shiver down your spine. “You know what I want, ma.”

You sucked your teeth but didn’t push it. Instead, you leaned back, letting the high settle in, watching as he turned the volume up on his speakers.

You almost did a double take at the song playing.

“Ain’t no way—”

He smirked. “What?”

“You listen to this?”

He shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I?”

The beat of an old-school R&B track poured through the speakers, something smooth, something you knew. You side-eyed him as the song played, waiting for him to mess up, to skip it, to prove he was just fronting.

But nah. He knew it.

Knew the lyrics, knew the beat drops, even bobbed his head on cue.

You squinted at him. “You really just a lil’ white rich boy or is this a setup?”

He snorted, taking another drag before passing the blunt. “Just ‘cause I grew up with money don’t mean I got no taste.”

You had to admit—that was fair. And the more you sat there, the more you realised he wasn’t just some cocky rich kid trying to flex his way into your life.

The blunt burned slow between your fingers, the smoke curling into the dim air of his car. The vibe had shifted—not completely, but enough. It wasn’t just him flirting anymore, wasn’t just you brushing him off for fun.

“Alright,” Katsuki started, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke before nodding at you. “Ain't gonna lie, you know I Instagram stalked you but what can you tell me that's not on your insta?

You raised a brow, lazily tapping ash into the car’s cup holder. “There's nothing to tell.

He scoffed. “Don’t play dumb. You one of the hardest people to read I ever met.”

That made you smirk. “Good.”

The blonde rolled his eyes, but there was no frustration behind it. “You always this difficult?”

“You always this persistent?” you shot back.

He smirked. “Correct.”

You let the silence settle for a second, the smoke lingering between you before you finally answered. “I dunno. Ain’t much to tell, really. I just be doin’ me.”

“Everybody just be doin’ them,” he said, tilting his head. “What you be doin’ specifically?”

You hesitated for a second. Most dudes didn’t actually care about your answer. They just asked to fill space, to make it look like they gave a fuck. But something about the way Katsuki was looking at you—sharp, focused—told you he wasn’t asking just to hear himself talk.

“…I do nails,” you admitted finally, blowing smoke out slow. “Started in high school, and now I be doin’ sets for a couple IG girls and models.”

Bakugo nodded, looking genuinely impressed. “Shit, that’s tough. You be drawin’ designs and shit too?”

You smirked a little, the praise hitting a spot you hadn’t expected. “Yeah. Custom shit. I don’t like doin’ basic sets.”

He hummed, taking the blunt from you. “That why your nails always look fire?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “Stalker."

“If the shoe fits.” He took a hit, exhaling as he leaned back. “I ain’t chasin’ after you for nothin’.”

You shook your head but didn’t say anything, the heat from the weed sitting comfortably in your chest.

“…What about you?” you asked after a moment. “How come you this chill?”

Bakugo side-eyed you, amused. “You sayin’ I ain’t supposed to be?”

You shrugged. “Just thought you’d be more… I dunno. Aggressive? You be actin’ like you got no patience but here you are, still tryna talk to me after I been curvin’ you for weeks.”

He clicked his tongue. “Don’t get it twisted. I’m still impatient as fuck. I just know when somethin’s worth waitin’ for.”

You weren’t expecting that.

You felt it again—that shift. The way the air got a little heavier, the words settling deeper than they probably should have.

You cleared your throat, trying to brush past it. “So? What was it like growing up? Always been this cocky?”

Bakugo snorted. “Hell nah. My mom woulda smacked the shit outta me.”

That made you laugh, full and real. “Really?”

He grinned. “Really. You think I got this mouth from nowhere? Mitsuki Bakugo ain’t play about keepin’ me in check. Always told me to watch how I talk to people—and to shut the fuck up if I wasn’t sayin’ shit worth hearin’.”

You smirked, tilting your head. “She ain’t humble you enough, clearly.”

“Nah, the old bag humbled me plenty.” Katsuki leaned back, passing the blunt again. “Don't know if you know but she's a designer, used to work at home sometimes. And anytime she was in her studio, she had old-school R&B playin’ nonstop.”

Your brows lifted slightly. “For real?”

“Swear. I couldn’t go five minutes without hearin’ some Brandy or Mary J. Blige in the background.” He shook his head like he could still hear it now. “I used to hate that shit. Thought it was corny. But now? Shit’s nostalgic as hell.”

You exhaled smoke through your nose, watching him through the haze. Something about picturing him—loud, brash, rough-around-the-edges Bakugo—growing up with old R&B in the background made something in you soften a little.

Maybe you’d had him wrong. Maybe he wasn’t just cocky. Maybe he was real in a way that most people weren’t.

You tapped your fingers against your thigh, you felt the wave of heat around your body, you couldn't differentiate between the weed and your emotions but you were chalking it up to the weed.

The car was quiet, the hum of his radio filling the silence but it wasn't awkward. Bakugo continued to fill his car with smoke, his head tilted back, eyes closed as he felt the high.

"So when do you plan on taking me out then?"

Bakugo’s lips curved slow, like he’d just won a game he knew he was always gonna win.

"Oh yeah?"

You kissed your teeth "Boy, I will get out of this car."

His smirk deepened, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he just kept looking at you, his gaze dipping slightly—to your lips, then back up to your eyes.

For a second, you thought he was gonna kiss you.

And for a second, you would’ve let him.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he just leaned back, eyes heavy-lidded, and exhaled slow, "Whenever your ready ma."

It hadn't been long before he noticed the change, it was subtle so subtle you barely noticed it but he sure did. How you didn't leave him on read for too long, how you picked up your phone on the second ring.

You were always smiling when his name popped up on your phone. He never saw it, no, but he knew, he could hear the smile in your voice whenever you tried you brush him off.

Spending time with him just became normal. You didn’t even think about it anymore. You just found yourself in his car more often than not, in his passenger seat with your feet kicked up on his dash, his playlist bleeding through the speakers while he drove.

He took you out, too—not just on regular “lemme take you to get food” type outings, but real dates. He wasn’t cheap with it, either. Nice spots. Nothing corny, nothing he knew you wouldn’t be into.

And God were you into it. He loved watching your face light up when he took you to different food spots, and planned different activities, it made waiting for you ever the sweeter.

You were definitely his.

Didn’t mean you were all soft about it, though. Not in public, at least.

When y’all were out around other people, you kept your cool. Like you weren’t fully, 100% down bad for this man.

But everybody knew.

Because the first time some random girl tried to get too close to him at a function, you shut that shit down with a single look.

The bitch had barely gotten two words out before you were stepping up, sliding your arm across his chest in a way that wasn’t too obvious but sent a very clear message.

“Oh, hey baby,” you hummed, nails dragging over the fabric of his hoodie. “You good?”

Bakugo had barely been paying attention to the girl in the first place, but the way you were on him now? Oh, he was eating that shit up.

His arm immediately dropped around your waist, fingers gripping your hip with zero hesitation. “Yeah, I’m straight.”

And just like that? She knew what it was.

You weren’t one to be dramatic. You weren’t insecure, either. But you also weren’t one to share.

Bakugo was yours. You had taken your time letting him have you, but now that he had you? Oh, best believe he wasn’t going anywhere.

And by the way he kept pulling you closer, smirking against your ear as he whispered, “Damn, you jealous, ma?” you knew he was feeling the same way.

The kitchen smelled good as hell. You had the stove going, the blonde had been bitchin' and whinin' about wanting a home-cooked meal even though you told him to ask his mama. But here you were, music played low from your speaker as you stood in a cropped tank and booty shorts while working over the stove.

“You just gon’ stare or you tryna help?” you teased, peeking over your shoulder.

His lips curled, sharp and smug. “I would help, but you look too good doin’ it.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t bother fighting the grin pulling at your lips.

Bakugo stretched, arms flexing as he walked toward you. "Change this, I'm a little tired of hearing rap."

His chuckle came quickly, "You? A little tired of listening to rap music?"

"I'm gonna pop you in your mouth."

You felt his lips graze the back of your neck as he squeezed your hip. "You know I'm joking ma."

You kissed your teeth before gesturing him toward your phone. You didn’t think twice about it. He picked up your phone, unlocked it, and you kept cooking. But after a moment, the music still wasn’t playing.

You turned your head, eyebrow raised. “Damn, why’s it so quiet? You—”

But he wasn't picking a song.

He was staring at your screen.

Your open messages.

Your unread DMs.

His jaw flexed, nostrils flaring.

“Yo.” His voice was tight. “Why the fuck you got all these dudes in your phone?”

Your brows furrowed, turning fully now. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” He held up your phone like it was evidence, like the messages flashing across the screen were something brand new.

You scoffed. “Oh, so you go through my phone now?”

“I ain’t go through shit. This popped up right in my face. You got, what, five, six dudes all up in your messages? You entertaining that?”

Your jaw locked. “Why you pressed?”

“Why am I—?” Bakugo laughed—humourless, sharp. “Don’t play dumb. I ain’t been out here with no other bitches. I ain’t even looked at another girl since you let me get next to you. Meanwhile, you got a lineup waiting for you?”

“First of all, lower your damn voice,” you snapped, stepping closer, “and second? Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”

Katsuki clenched his jaw, his chest rising, his hands curling into fists. “I’m talkin’ to you, ma. To the girl I been all the way locked in with, thinkin’ she been on the same shit, but—”

“But what?” You glared up at him, heat crawling up your spine. “You the one trippin’ over some old-ass messages from before you were even in the picture. So tell me, Katsuki, what exactly do you think is happening here?”

His breathing was heavy. His fingers flexed, like he was fighting the urge to grab you. “I think you got me fucked up.”

That’s when you really got up in his face. “And you got me fucked up if you think you can tell me what to do with my phone like I don’t got my own mind.”

"Yeah, but if it were me? If I had some fucking hoes all up in my phone this would be a different story wouldn't it? If the roles were switched you would have already threatened to kill me and them other bithces so don't tell me I got you fucked up."

“You’re damn right it’d be a different story,” you hissed, chest nearly pressed to his now. “Because if I ever saw you entertainin’ bitches like that, I'd pop you in your big ass head."

“But you know what the difference is?” you went on, jaw tight, voice dropping low. “I didn’t answer them. Didn’t even open half those messages. ‘Cause I been here. With you. Cooking for your ungrateful ass, letting you run through my snacks, sleep in my bed--"

He stared at you, chest rising and falling, lips parted like he had something to say and didn’t know how to say it. And then he just—

Laughed.

Low and sharp, head tilting as he ran a hand down his face, then back over his hair like he was tryna shake something loose.

“You drive me fuckin’ crazy, you know that?”

You crossed your arms. “Good.”

“I’m serious.”

“I said good, Katsuki.”

He moved fast after that.

One second he was across the kitchen, and before you could even blink, he had you backed into the counter, his hands flat on either side of you, boxing you in before he kissed you. His hands were rough, sliding down to grip your thighs, hoisting you up on the counter like you weighed nothing.

Your back hit the cabinets with a thud as Bakugo pulled you to the edge of the counter, lips never leaving your neck. His hands gripped your thighs like he owned 'em—like he had a right to claim every part of you.

“Tell me to stop,” he muttered against your skin, voice low, almost breathless. “Say the word and I will.”

You grabbed a fistful of his hoodie and yanked. “Katsuki, if you stop right now, I will fight you.”

He grinned—crooked and cocky, like he’d just won. “That’s my girl.”

Then he was on you again. Lips hot and greedy, teeth grazing your jaw, tongue sliding against yours like he couldn’t get enough. His hands slid under your tank top, rough palms dragging up your sides, thumbs brushing the underside of your tits like he was mapping you out with touch alone.

You moaned into his mouth, legs locking around his waist, pulling him closer.

He peeled off your tank and tossed it somewhere behind him, lips dropping to your chest like he’d been starved for the taste. His mouth wrapped around your nipple while his other hand teased the other one—squeezing, rolling, pinching just enough to make your breath catch.

“Fuck, Katsuki—” You arched into him, hand flying to the back of his head, your other gripping the counter like it could keep you grounded.

You squeeled as he bit onto your piercing, tugging at it slightly before his tongue flattened out against it.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty like this,” he mumbled against your skin, “so soft, so warm. Got me trippin’ over you, baby.”

You continued to moan as he sucked on your nipples, his fingers pushing past the waist of your shorts before he was met with the slick heat of your folds.

He moaned out against you, your head tilted back slightly as his thumb worked against your clit "Fuck, been wanting to taste this pussy, you gonna let me eat ma?"

You tugged on his hair, moaning softly as he pinched your clit. You nodded eagerly, he chuckled against your neck as he peppered small kisses along your body.

He dropped to his knees, dragging your shorts down in one slow motion, eyes glued to your dripping cunt. “Fuck, baby…”

He hooked your leg over his shoulder and dove in, tongue dragging through your folds before flicking against your clit, slow and teasing.

“Mmm,” he groaned, sucking the bud into his mouth. “Could eat this pussy for days.”

You bit your lip, head falling back as his mouth worked you open—languid licks, rough tongue, fingers sliding into you one by one until your thighs started trembling. He was filthy with it, moaning into your pussy like he needed it to breathe.

“God, Katsuki—” your voice cracked, legs shaking, hand flying to the back of his head, grinding your hips against his face.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he growled between licks. “Ride my fuckin’ face.”

You did. Rode it shamelessly, until your orgasm tore through you like a wave, hips jerking, thighs clamping around his head as you gasped his name like a prayer.

Bakugo didn’t move until your whole body went slack. The blonde grinned as he came from between your thighs. You pulled him forward, lips meeting each other in haste. You moaned, tasting yourself on his tongue as it slid into your mouth.

After a while, you pushed against his chest, his brows furrowing in confusion as he watched you. You bit your lip softly as you dropped to your knees, his eyes darkened as he followed your form.

Fuck, you looked so pretty like this.

You yanked his sweats down, watching his cock spring free—thick, veiny, flushed pink at the tip, already leaking.

He groaned as you wrapped your hand around him, stroking slow while you pressed kisses along the underside, tongue teasing the tip. He hissed, hand flying to the back of your head.

“Fuck, ma…”

You swallowed him halfway, lips stretching around him, eyes locked on his the whole time. Then you pulled back—just to spit on it, mess it up even more, before taking him deep. Your throat tightened around him and his hips bucked forward on instinct.

“Shit—yo, slow down,” he panted, staring down at you like he didn’t know whether to stop you or let you ruin him. “You tryna make me nut already?”

You moaned around him, tongue dragging along the underside of his shaft as you bobbed your head faster. One hand on his thigh, the other gently massaging his balls, fuck -- you were too damn good at this.

“God damn, girl,” he groaned, voice hoarse. “Look at you. Slobbin’ all over this dick like it’s your fuckin’ job.”

Tears were pricking at the corners of your eyes, spit dripping down your chin, but you didn’t stop. You loved the way he lost composure—head tilted back, abs flexing, thighs twitching.

“Fuck it,” he muttered, grabbing your face, ignoring the whine that left your lips as he pulled you off him with a wet pop. “Get up. Bend over the fuckin’ counter.”

You moaned as your cheek hit the counter, your breath caught your throat as his fingers ran along the base of your spine, down to your ass, squeezing rough. “Leg up,” he ordered, smacking your thigh. “Get that shit up for me.”

You obeyed, hiking one leg up on the counter, spreading yourself wider for him.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he growled, lining himself up behind you. You moaned, wiggling your ass softly as you felt him tap your clit with his tip.

You cried out, fingers gripping the counter like your life depended on it as he sank into you, one brutal thrust.

He didn’t give you time to adjust—he couldn’t. He was too far gone. All that jealousy, all that possessiveness, all that hunger came out in his strokes.

Your moans come out in pants as he continues to drive into you, you live for the groans that were coming from above you as you continued to squeeze around him.

"Fuck, this pussy too good,” he groaned, slamming into you from behind, the slap of skin on skin echoing through the kitchen. “Squeezing me so. Fucking. Right.”

You moaned, back arching, your arm reaching behind you as you tried to push against his abs. The blonde let put a dark chuckle, your arm now bent behind you as he leaned over, and sliding up your stomach to squeeze your tit, mouth at your ear.

"Nah, don't run from this dick. Your gonna take every God damn inch of me because your fucking mine!"

You moaned again, eyes fluttering. “'M sorry Suki-- all yours. All yours!”

He pulled your head back, kissed you hard, then dropped his hand between your legs to rub your clit while he fucked you from behind.

Your body started shaking again, that orgasm creeping up fast. He felt it, too—how tight you got, how your moans changed pitch.

“Cum for me,” he growled. “Let that shit go. I wanna feel it.”

Yours eyes faded to the back of your head, your vision turning black as you gushed around him, your pussy clenching around him so tight it made him hiss and slam in even harder.

“Fuck, fuck—fuck,” he cursed, voice raw, as you continued to squirt around him. Your fluids running down your legs as he sent one more thrust, his hips stuttering as he finally came inside you, holding you still as he emptied himself, his fingers digging into your waist like he was scared you’d slip away.

Your head hit the counter softly, wincing slightly as he pulled out of you. You moaned softly as he kissed you up your spine.

"You done with your caveman shit?" He chuckled into your ear, lips still against your skin.

"Not at all ma."

𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘺 𝘮𝘦, 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘢𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 ©

[rika-mmendmethings]

Against Blood & Water l Sylus

Chapter 2

CH 1 l CH 3

Summary: Seventeen years ago, your life had taken a turn for the worse when your newborn twins were separated from you by a cruel twist of fate. The same fate had led you to the N109 Zone, to your children who were all grown up now. Reconciliation with your boys would've been slightly easier had they somehow not acquired a father figure over the years who wasn't letting them go anytime soon.

Warning(s): Subject to change as we progress further into the story. For this chapter: mentions of blood and drugs, self-suturing, minor character deaths, stalking, some comfort in this one.

Word count: 1.8k

Playlist coming soon.

Notes: New chapter every Thursday! This story is for the Sylus girlies' who consider Luke and Kieran their babies. A little information on the timeline: in this story, the reader is 35 with Luke and Kieran being 17. Sylus never felt like 28 to me so he's a hot ass 39 year old man (bear with me). The timeline is a bit confusing I know but soon it'd be cleared too. If you have any more questions, feel free to ask me and I'd try my best to give you a proper answer without revealing too much. Let me know if you wish to be added in the tag list for this series. ♥

Tag list: @babyx91 @pillarofsnow @beyond-the-stars-fairy @yuki-sama6 @sylviewrites @idiashusband @sadmonke @monophobix @lunarvolley @stxrrielle @fries11 @gremlinartstudio @lillycore @novthirty @animegamerfox @cathedralofaudra @nm4565natty @69-gojos-wife-69 @eolivy @namjoons-toenails @silverianni @nezuswritingdesk @beaconsxd @justpassingdontworry @ruyaya

The warehouse loomed like a tomb swallowed by the night, its skeletal frame etched against the bruised sky, whispering secrets of violence and forgotten deals. Flickering neon lights spilled weak, jaundiced glows onto the cracked concrete floor, casting long, distorted shadows that danced like specters of the past. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood, oil, and the faint, acrid bite of burned rubber. 

You ran for your life through the chaos like a monkey with its tail on fire. Bad idea. Your mind had screamed at you an hour ago as you snuck into the warehouse to investigate further the drug traces that led to it. But you rarely listened to your brain, and that habit had brought you to this exact moment — hidden behind a few metal racks, your hand gripping your gun beneath the armor of your tailored black blazer.

You’d made the rookie mistake of visiting the warehouse without double-checking if it was truly empty. Some men from the drug-dealing gang were dozing off on makeshift beds after consuming too much liquor. Being light on your feet, you’d made sure not to make any noise just in case, and you were almost done collecting evidence when things went south. You’d pulled out your Polaroid camera for instant pictures of the drug packets, but after a few mechanical shutter sounds, you heard other noises in the background.

You ducked behind metal containers, your heart halting when you peeked and saw burly men searching around. Thus began your little cat-and-mouse game.

Back in the present moment, you analyzed the situation after calming yourself down. Four men on the ground floor of the warehouse, rifles in hand, with you on the first floor. You had a gun, of course — you weren’t that stupid — but taking all of them down would be a hassle, especially with a limited number of bullets. Soon enough, they’d come up to search.

You quickly formed a plan: distract them by aiming at your far left, behind the metal containers, then jump off the first floor and hurry out through the small cavity in the wall you’d come in from. You smacked your forehead with your hand when your mind began to play the Subway Surfers theme song as if it were the musical backdrop of a film starring you.

You were all set to put your plan into motion when you heard their raised voices. But their angry spouts weren’t directed at you — they were directed at someone else who had entered the warehouse. A complete silence fell over the space, and as you strained your hearing, you could make out a new, huskier voice.

Soon after, loud, painful screams echoed before abruptly stopping. You heard footsteps retreating, presumably out of the warehouse.

You blinked once, processing the turn of events. The men who were targeting you were probably lying dead on the ground floor right now — victims of another man who wanted them dead. Strange. You thought, glancing at the Polaroid camera hanging around your neck. At least the evidence was safe, and you were alive. You’d think about who your guardian angel was later. For now, you need to head back to your temporary apartment in the slightly safer regions of the N109 Zone.

You rolled back your tensed shoulders and moved out of your hiding spot, making your way downstairs via a mostly hidden and rusty staircase. Your gun was still tightly clutched in your right hand, just in case. You were about to weasel out of the wall cavity when two pairs of footsteps had you freezing.

You immediately whipped around, aiming your gun at the origin of the sound, and shot without thinking twice.

The tall person you’d shot groaned, knees buckling as he fell to the ground. Beside him, another man in the same uniform, groaning just a second later, clutched his arm before also crumbling to the ground. You gasped, realizing they hadn’t even been on your trail — they were walking over to the dead, burly men.

You felt bad, okay? You knew anything could happen if you moved closer to the unknown individuals, but you didn’t wish to leave them in that condition — especially since they hadn’t even targeted you. They were probably henchmen of your supposed guardian angel if their matching black costumes and crow-themed masks — with horns and beaks concealing their faces — meant anything.

After an internal battle between your logic and your conscience, you finally decided to approach them. You were still on guard but had put your gun away in its holster under your blazer. You nudged the men, but they didn’t even budge, so you assumed they’d passed out from the pain. You pondered why the second man had passed out if he hadn’t even been anywhere near the bullet.

Rushing to your motorcycle, you grabbed your medical kit and hurried back to them.

Luckily, the bullet hadn’t entered anyone’s body — it had only grazed the first man’s arm. It left an angry, gaping gash, though, which was currently bleeding. You rolled his sleeve up to his shoulder and began stitching it. You needed to get this done before they woke and swore mortal enmity against you. You tried to hurry, not really wanting to know if the stitches were messy, but some unknown feeling had you slowing down and being a lot more gentle than you could possibly afford right now.

After some time, you were done tending to the first man’s wounds and had even checked the second man for any injuries for inexplicable reasons. You quickly stood up, double-checking if you had everything you owned on you before rushing out of the warehouse to where your bike was hidden. You put your belongings in the saddlebag before zipping it shut. As you were about to grab your helmet, a small tap on your shoulder caused you to freeze mid-air.

You glanced at the two sets of shadows stretching on the ground just behind yours. It seemed you’d wasted too much time, and now you were about to be barbecued by the probably angry young henchmen. With no backup plan in mind, you turned around with your hands raised in surrender and eyes clenched shut.

“Thanks, missus.”

You’d expected a gun’s muzzle to your head or a hand around your neck, strangling you. And out of all the other wild things you’d expected, thanks was the last of them. You thought you were dreaming until another calm voice brought you back.

“You shot us unknowingly out of human instinct. But you still tended to us, so we decided to drop by and let you know we appreciated that.”

You were hyperventilating, you were sure of it. Until the first man spoke with a lilt:

“Your aim is super cool, though, missus. We were actually awake but wanted to see who had shot us, so we played dead, and it worked.”

You slowly lowered your hands as you heard them burst into hearty laughter. You opened your eyes, rigid as you took sight of their faces beneath the masks. The injured one wiped the sweat off his forehead with a napkin, and the other rubbed his chin — all the while laughing.

It wasn’t their near-identical faces that threw you off — no — it was the color of their eyes. Their irises were the same hues as yours: electric grey, intense as storm-churned clouds.

A gripping realization churned your heart as you silently noted the inky, curly locks — like those of the father of your late twins — and the resemblance to you in their facial features and height. Your lips wobbled, and the smarter side of you willed you not to jump to conclusions. But how could you ignore the unfamiliar warmth and contentment in your chest as you watched them laugh and interact?

Still, the lawyer in you knew better than to claim anything without evidence backing it up, so you remained quiet. They looked quite young, probably in their late teens, and that assumption caused your mind to race.

You pulled yourself together as both of them started speaking simultaneously:

“Anyways—”

The twins narrowed their eyes at each other, and you suppressed a smile.

The uninjured one continued, “We have to deal with the dead scums inside and be back before dusk, so sayonara, missus.”

Both of them saluted you as if you were some sort of general before turning on their heels.

Before they were out of earshot, you called out, “Wait.”

The twins turned around, looking at you quizzically. You shuffled on your feet, asking reluctantly, “What are your names?”

The twins nodded. The injured one pointed at himself and introduced, “The one who you shot is me. I’m Luke, the elder twin,” he pointed to his brother and trailed on, “And this is Kierran, the younger twin. Now, we really ought to dash before boss-man has us in a tight spot. Bye, missus.”

The twins waved you goodbye in sync before hurrying back into the warehouse.

You felt as if lightning had struck you. All doubts, all what-ifs — cleared. You’d crocheted a pair of blankets when you’d found out you were having twin boys seventeen years ago. Your mother had suggested adding the names you’d chosen for them on it too, aside from the cartoons.

Luke and Kierran.

You’d smiled in pure bliss that day as you told your father the names you’d chosen for your kids from the crocheted blankets. A smile of the same kind, albeit even happier, now bloomed on your face as you realized that fate had found a way to reunite you with your children once again.

And you weren’t letting them out of your sight ever again. 

A joyful smile curled across your face as you slipped into the dim confines of the apartment — your so-called temporary hideout. The door clicked shut behind you with finality.

You dropped onto the couch, sinking into the worn-out plush. Their faces played over in your mind, every gesture, every word. You were already thinking of the next move, the next encounter. You’d make it happen. You always did.

But then… a pause.

Your brow furrowed, the grin faltering just slightly as a thought cut through the haze like a blade.

“They mentioned some boss-man…” you muttered, voice low, nearly lost to the silence. Your gaze flicked to the window, unfocused. “Who exactly are my children working for?”

The room gave no answer.

But if you'd been paying closer attention — if you'd listened to the silence — you might have caught the almost imperceptible flutter of feathers, or the faintest click of talons on steel. A pair of glowing, crimson eyes blinked once from the darkness, then vanished. The answer to your question, however, did not linger.

The spy departed, slicing through the night sky until it reached the edge of a sprawling mansion. It landed softly on the calloused fingers of the very man you were trying to uncover. The bird gave a mechanical caw as a red hologram burst into life, casting a ghostly light across the man’s face.

There you were, speaking, pacing, questioning. Vulnerable. Unaware.

“Interesting,” the man said, voice like fine velvet. His eyes burned with something unreadable — part curiosity, part calculation.

He leaned forward, watching the screen closely.

“Very… interesting.”

Check out my other works if you liked this ♥

[archangeldyke-all]

oh my gosh. i just went down a RABBIT HOLE of the little fucker fics and ive probably never been this invested in a story more than this. i literally loved EVERY MOMENT. you deserve absolutely everything omg thank u for blessing us all🙏🏻😔

for my requestt, id ADORE to see sevika and reader telling stories from when they were little and showing photos (kindof in a teenage dirtbag kind of way? like the cool ass parents in the 90s vibe) to little fucker and the twins (maybe vi, jinx and caif too)

ANYWAYS IM IN LOVE W U MARRY ME MWAH

i LOVE this i'm gonna combine it too ehheheheh

SEVIKA AND READER AS GRANDPARENTS???*wink wink nudge nudge*

men and minors dni

in your years together, you and sevika have helped raise a lot of kids. some of them came to you through fate; vi and jinx and isha. some of them are your own flesh and blood; little fucker and the twins. some of them are your in-laws; ekko, cait, and smooches. you love them all with your entire heart regardless of how they came into your lives.

now that they're all grown up they all make great efforts to see you and sevika often. you've got at least one kid visiting you almost every night of the week. but coordinating eleven schedules to clear one evening for a family dinner is incredibly hard; so besides the holidays it's rare that all your kids are under the same roof at the same time.

so you know something's going on when you and sevika come home from a movie to all your children cooking dinner in your kitchen.

"what the fuck!? what's the special occasion?" you ask as you scoop as many of your kids in your arms as you can hold. sevika's giving noogies to the rest.

"momma... mommy..." little fucker starts. "come sit down."

you let your daughter guide you to the table, shrugging at sevika when she shoots you a questioning look. smooches approaches with two glasses of whiskey, passing one to you and your wife. you gulp.

"what's going on? you kids in trouble? you need a loan?" sevika asks.

from where she's stirring something on the stove, violet chuckles. "so paranoid."

always assuming the worst. isha signs with a giggle.

little fucker sits across from you. shithead and stinkybutt start giggling nervously with one another, smacking each other's shoulders to get quiet. ekko snorts and waves at them, trying to shut them up.

"okay, i'm starting to freak out. i don't like when all you kids get to scheming together." you say.

"would you just tell 'em already? look at sev, she's preparing for a heart attack." jinx says with a giggle.

you glance over at your wife and chuckle at the constipated expression on her face as she tries to parse the situation. you reach out and grab her hand.

"i'm pregnant." little fucker says.

you frown. "what?"

"we're expecting." smooches says.

beside you, sevika shifts. "...how?" she asks. your kids burst into laughter.

"m-moms, the same way you two got pregnant with me!" little fucker giggles.

oh. right.

"i think they're in shock." cait whispers.

"give 'em a second." shithead says.

"three... two... one..."

"we're gonna be grandmas!?" sevika squeals, jumping up from her seat. you burst into tears as your kids burst into a fresh round of laughter.

"oh, janna, this is so fucking amazing!" you sob.

you and sevika swarm little fucker and smooches, peppering them with kisses, sobbing into their shoulders.

there they go. isha signs with a giggle.

"you all knew!?" sevika asks, betrayed.

ekko laughs. "we wanted to surprise you."

"how far along are you?" you ask your baby. she giggles.

"two months."

"you think it's a boy or a girl?" sevika asks. little fucker giggles.

"it's too early to know, mommy."

"well, since it's this family, it's likely a girl." vi says.

ekko scoffs. "i'm right here!"

you and sevika cry all the way through dinner. your kids celebrate by raiding your liquor cabinet, passing bottles around and cheers-ing endlessly. little fucker groans about being the only sober one, and it makes you cry again. your baby is having a baby.

at some point, caitlyn gets up to grab dessert. she returns with a dish of her famous piltover pecan pie, and a dust old shoebox. "i found this in the drawer under the oven. you do realize that's a warming drawer, right?" she asks.

you gasp at the box, pulling it toward your body. sevika scoffs at cait's words. "maybe for you. i know storage space when i see it."

"what is it?" vi asks.

"oh janna, i forgot all about this!" you giggle, opening the lid. the shoebox is stuffed full of ancient photographs, all developed in the early years of you and sevika's relationship.

you were a bit of a sentimental sap when you first started dating your now-wife. you knew from the first date that you were going to marry her... so you took to collecting mementos of your time together. photographs, ticket stubs, wrappers from the chocolates she bought for your first valentines day, flakey dried flowers-- anything and everything from when you were young and dumb and in love.

"it's her love-box." sevika explains for you.

love-box sounds dirty as hell. isha signs.

you cackle. "not that kinda love-box. it's pictures from when me and your big mama were kids. fuck, look at us in this one, sev." you giggle, admiring a strip from a photo booth on the promenade.

it features four pictures of you and your wife-- then girlfriend. in the first, you're grinning and sevika's scowling at the camera-- clearly you've dragged her into the booth against her will. in the second, you're gawking at her as she lights up a cigarette hanging out of her mouth. in the third, she blows the smoke in your cringing face, and in the fourth, you're kissing her against the wall of the booth, her cigarette hanging limply from her fingers.

sevika snorts down at the strip, then passes it to ekko. "we were such dorks." she says fondly.

"oh janna you guys look so young!" he gasps.

"hey. we're still young." you scold.

"awe... moms, you were cute!" stinkybutt laughs.

"we're still cute!" sevika echo's your sentiment.

"do you still have this leather jacket?" vi asks sevika, gasping at the picture.

"probably buried somewhere around here."

"probably in the freezer." cait huffs, still offended at the mis-use of space in your oven drawer.

"ope!" you giggle as you quickly smack a picture face down on the table. "d-don't look at that one, kids." you giggle. sevika pulls the picture over to her, taking a quick glance like it's a hand of cards. she bites her lip, her face turning crimson and a shy smile on her lips as she nods.

"yeah, leave that one alone."

"awe, fuck, are your old-ass nudes in there?!" jinx groans in disgust. you and sevika burst into giggles, leaning into one another.

"moms gross!" shithead whines. you laugh.

"oh, whatever! your moms have sex, grow up. your sister's pregnant, y'know? how do you think that happened?"

"ew, ma, stop!" little fucker squeals.

smooches is laughing so hard she's choking for air.

"holy shit, this is you!?" ekko gasps from where he's started rifling through the old pictures.

it's a newspaper clipping-- a review for the last drop; which at the time, was the trendiest, newest queer club in town. the black and white photograph is small, only two by two inches, but the image is clear. you and sevika, grinding on a packed dance floor, smiles on your lips, your eyes locked with each other.

sevika hums. "fuck, we were so young."

"i can't tell if i'm impressed at how cool you guys were, or disgusted." vi says.

"again, what's with all this past tense? we're still cool!"

you guys just got back from seeing the early-bird movie showing because you're too old to stay up for the eight pm show. isha signs with a roll of her eyes. you cackle.

"w-- that is not why we go to the early shows!" sevika defends.

"then why do you go so early?" shithead asks with a suspicious glare.

"so we can have sex for a good long while once we get back." you say. groans break out around the table, and you giggle. whoops. you've had a few too many drinks.

"ma, please, your grandchild is present."

"she can't fuckin' hear her in there!" sevika cackles as she wraps an arm around your shoulders.you turn to kiss her, grinning against her lips as your kids start boo-ing the pair of you.

kofi

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @vkumi @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17 @losernb @p1nkearth

taglist!!

@sevikas-baby @ghostscandys @sevikasllver @runawaybaby3 @lesbones

@chezze-its @lez-zuha @vikashoneybee @shanesevikasfuckdoll @imheadintothemountains

@ferxanda @helaenabugmom @spookymomfriendtm @leeidk87

[boowritess]

i love love love the headcanon of the 141 not having kids and babies and ewey.

i think that john price is still very relevant to that. kinda. i don't really seeing him having a pet honestly. unless you wanted one... sure... but nah y'know... he's old tired af. maybe a cat. probably definitely a cat.

but it's been you and john for as long as you can remember.

happy to be in each other's presence from morning to night, or simply just exist in a shared life that means you two don't have to always be around each other.

you could be shopping and he could be sleeping. he's outside tending to the stuff he had supposed to finish before he left deployment while you're reading on the couch inside. he's on a long deployment again, and you're at work.

plus the prospect of kids just never seemed to work into the schedule. "nah," john says to one of your friends, "can handle kids fine, but when i'm home, this old mans bones are good for sleep and not much else. i mean the breeding kink can get me goi-" john grunts when you elbow into his side.

"crude." you huff with an eyeroll.

"but true." he says into his beer as he takes a sip, eyes sparking with mischief.

your friend turns to you. "but doesn't it get lonely?" they asks. "wouldn't you want a little one running around?"

and well sometimes the days may be lonely for you when he's gone...

but that's become impossibly hard to focus on when your phone is being constantly blown up - not by price though. by the 141.

it's never really anything outrages or civil conversation. it's gaz asking which tie he should wear at an event because price said the black one but gaz doesn't really like the black one. then it's johnny sending you a video of him besting his previous time on a training course. though it doesn't stop there. ghost is messaging late nights for him but mid-day for you, asking about how to deal with insomnia. ghost is asking you because he knows you're awake and the others are asleep, he doesn't want to bother them.

you answer every single one, with so much care and attentiveness. you save every picture, every video and boost about their achievements to other people as if they were your own. however, people always assume you're talking about little kids not grown ass men.

yet on days when you're at home or you've come home from work. you're hardly surprised to find one of them had invited themselves into yours and johns home as if it was their own.

sometimes it's gaz crashed out on the couch who's in a desperate need of a shower but definitely needs sleep more.

or the sounds of soap in your fridge, raking around to find something to eat. "lass, ye out of cheese-" he ate the cheese. the whole newly bought block of it.

gaz and soap like to hover around you when they're home. whereas ghost helps price around the house.

but when it's just you and ghost, the oldest boy. it's quiet. there's no forced conversations but probably a few shitty jokes. it's you or him making food and the other doing the dishes. yet ghost opens up and the conversations turn into some of the most randomist, boyish, silly conversations.

when everyone's at home, it can actually be pretty hectic. so you go do the grocery shopping, but you take ghost along cause he's a little like you in regard for a need of quiet time.

oh and can't forget the days you go out by yourself only to come home with a few other things. socks for john - socks for all of them. you bought johnny a new pair of jeans and gaz a couple of shirts. and simon some more sweaters.

christmas, easter, new years - every single holiday is always hosted at yours and price. where everyone comes. farah, alex, laswell and her wife. rudy and alejandro making their way- then of course your boys...

and it's there where you've kinda realized.

you and john do have kids.

just in the form of grown men.

which both you and john don't seem to mind.

you end up shrugging your shoulders as you look at your friend, "honestly i have my hands full when they're all home. so... i'm good." you say with a hum, sipping from your own drink with a small smile as john just chuckles softly.

a/n: realized I never posted this. oh well. the no baby saga continues with john price. drink water be well ya'll xx

[halitis]

do i have anything anything against jason as a character? no. i actually like him quite a bit! i think hes really interesting!

BUT DO I THINK SOME JASON FANS ARE FUCKING DUMB AS FUCK?!?? YES BITCH WHAT THE FUCK?

im gonna go through all the shit wrong with this comment thread one by one because jesus fucking CHRIST!!!!

1. "that thing" first of all. What. she is literally just a evil-aligned poc woman. she has been raised in this environment and as a result of that this is really the only life available for her and thats the tragedy of her character!

2. "why did she get with roy" THEY ARE FUCKING SOULMATES. THEIR ENTIRE THING IS THE INHERENT LOVE THEY SHARE FOR EACH OTHER WHILE ALSO VALUING THEIR MORALS ABOVE EACH OTHER. IT IS THE COMPLEXITY OF RAISING A CHILD TOGETHER AND ALSO TRYING TO FIND MIDDLE GROUND. IT IS BEGGINT THE OTHER TO CHANGE AND KNOWING THEY WONT.

3. "MY BABY JASON" YOU CANNOT SAY THAT AFTER YOU JUST INSULTED JADE.... LITTERALLY CANNOT. the biggest fucking hypocrytical statement i have ever fucking heard!!! bro!!! jason is Nawt a good person! he just flat out isnt! he has done so much horrid shit, not just to his familt, but to roy's family too. like he is not ur sweet innocent traumatised boy, he is a fucked up grown ass man who was hurt and decided to take that pain out on others. he is no fucking different from jade except he thinks hes doing rhe right thing, at least jade knows she isnt

4. "lian baby mama is jason now" ive talked abt this before, but sexism in fandom spaces when it comes to mlm ships is so fucking common it is fucking absurd. why are women only used as babymakers for ur gay characters?? why can they not be complex characters while men can???? it is fucking absurd how common it is in dc fandom and i frankly dont know why im shocked by it! women are regressed to one of three roles: evil villain who abused male love interest, baby maker, BAMF with no complexity or character at all and it is honestly so fucking tiring and just, boring to read??? like how do you not just hate it??????

5. "unemployed" honestly. i have no words. all im saying is it is No Fucking Shock that the woc is being pushed into these awful stereotypes.

now we are up to the worst part. the final comment...

6. "how are you gonna sleep with my man" ROY LEFT JADE. NOT THE OTHER WAY ROUND. roy was on an undercover mission and fell in love with jade and got her pregnant! he left because he would not be able to arrest her!!! all she fucking knew was one of the first people she truly ever loved had fucking gotten her to trust him and then left her, she had to deal with that pregnancy BY HERSELF. SHE LITTERALLY SAYS SHE SPENT THE ENTIRE PREGNANCY WAITING FOR ROY TO COME BACK TO HER, AND SHE WASNT EVEN MAD SHE STILL LOVED HIM.... she didn't even realise his identity for years!

also why is it always the woman's fucking fault if she gets pregnant? it takes two to tango! roy is as equally responsible for that pregnancy as jade is!

7. "AND THEN LEAVE YOUR KID" OH MY GOD.... [EXPLODES YOU WITH MY MIND] JADE. CANNOT. LEAVE. THE LEAGUE. BUT SHE DOES NOT WANT TO RAISE A FUCKINF CHILD THERE BECAUSE SHE KNOWS WHAT ITS LIKE!! SHES BEEN THAT KID!! jade knows fucking better then to delude herself into thinking she can raise lian safely while still stuck in her life, but lian is her number one priority always!! forever!! she pushes roy and lian away because she knows she is dangerous for them and because she thinks she doesnt deserve to have them and that love in her life!!!

8. "lian should be embarrassed to have her as her mum" i actually fucking wish nothing but hell upon you. have you not fucking read. just a single thing in ur life actually? just like actually can you read??? because i have met TODDLERS with better media literacy than you. LIAN HAS ISSUES WITH HER MOTHER. THIS WAS A BIG PART OF HER STINT AS SHOES. SHE IS DEALING WITH THE COMPLEXITIES OF LOVING HER MOTHER, THE WOMAN WHO LOVES HER AND CARES FOR HER, WHILE ALSO ACKNOWLEDGING THE FACT THAT SHE ISNT A GREAT MUM.

im sorry this is so messy and has so much shouting it actually has me fuming when people r so fucking stupid, idc if you dont like a character but dont just ignore all the bits of a characyer that make them redeemable or interesting to prop up ur male blorbos????

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ ｔｏ ｌｏｖｅ ａ ｂｏｙ ♡

♡ Pairing: boyfriend!joshua hong x chubby!fem!reader, best friend!hoshi, best friend!dk

♡ Genre: fluff/angst/smut

♡ Summary: Over the past year of being with your boyfriend you've grown close with his dearest friends. Something that he's always seemed happy about. That is until one night when he wakes up to find you hanging with two of his best friends when you should be lying in bed next to him. Joshua can't really be jealous over something so small, so absolutely innocent...right?

♡ Word Count: 3.2k-ish

♡ Warnings: jealousy/relationship insecurities, penetrative sex, fingering, overstimulation, creampie, a lil nipple play, possessiveness, pet names (baby), light dom/sub/switch dynamics if you squint, some thigh/ass slapping, fluffy love, & that's it, babes.

♡ A/N: This one is a request I got a little bit ago and I'm so happy to have finally finished it. I don't tend to get SVT x chubby reader fic requests so it was really nice to get one. Thank you to the sweetie of an anon who sent this in and was so patient with me getting this out. I hope you enjoy this my beautiful carat babes 💜

“DK, would you sit still? You’re gonna mess me up” you giggle, doing your best to apply false lashes to DK without poking one of his eyes out.

Seated on the edge of his bed, DK continues to do the exact opposite of what you’re begging him not to. “I am sitting still” he insists, flinching any time the lash even comes close to his eyelid. 

Over your shoulder a half awake Hoshi has a hand clasped over his mouth to quiet the laughter that has him turning red. Finally you get the lashes on, despite DK’s squirming, and you step back to admire your work.

DK bats his lashes, feeling prettier than any runway model, “Am I gorgeous or what?”

Hoshi collapses into laughter, his head falling on your shoulder as he wheezes, “This was the best idea ever. You look insane.”

“You shut up!” DK scolds, reaching for a pillow to no doubt knock the life out of Hoshi with. 

You stop him just in time, grabbing the pillow and holding it tight to you like a prized plushie. “Ignore him” you say, delicate fingers tilting his cheek, “I happen to think you look beautiful.” And you aren’t lying to him. You hate to toot your own horn but you’re pretty good with a brush and the makeup you’ve done on him suits him well. Subtle lipstick, flawless wingtip liner, and the slightest bit of blush to brighten up his face. 

Proud as you may be of the outcome, none of this was your idea to begin with. This all started when you found yourself tossing and turning at 2 in the morning. You’d tried every trick in the book to fall asleep but your restless mind wouldn’t let you. Not wanting to interrupt the boyfriend snoozing peacefully beside you, you wandered out into the kitchen in search of snacks. 

You navigated the halls quietly, not wanting to wake the rest of the house, only to stumble upon DK and Hoshi already in the kitchen. It turns out you weren’t the only one struggling to get to sleep tonight. Figuring there was no use climbing back in bed to suffer alone, the three of you made your way back to DK’s room, snacks in hand, and decided to play a late night game of Truth or Dare. And for poor DK this is how things ended up. Well, maybe not so poor DK. He seems to be as amused with it as you and Hoshi are. When people talk about “core memories” that’ll stick with you forever this will definitely be one for you. 

It was intimidating when you and Joshua first started dating. Naturally you want your boyfriend’s best friends to like you but “best friends” usually consists of 5 people at best. Not 12 unhinged men with a lifelong bond that makes them protect each other more like brothers than friends. You still remember the first time that you met them. Every week the boys gather at their favorite restaurant for dinner to catch up on things. It’s usually reserved strictly for them but Joshua decided to invite you this time around, insisting that the guys would love you. You spent every day leading up to that dinner worried out of your mind. Standing here now with DK and Hoshi you can’t imagine how you were ever nervous about meeting them. They’re so sweet. So harmless. 

“What are you doing?” Joshua asks, drawing your attention to the doorway where he stands, arms folded across his chest. Joshua’s always so soft spoken, it’s one of the many things you find so charming about him. Not once in your relationship have you heard him raise his voice so the added bass in his question makes you short circuit. 

“I…I couldn’t sleep” you stutter, smiling nervously, “So we were playing Truth or Dare and…”

DK smiles at Joshua, trying to maintain the upbeat mood, “I chose ‘dare’.”

Joshua responds with a frown, charging over and snatching you away from Hoshi. “You’re a little too close don’t you think?”

“We were just hanging out,” Hoshi says, his joy deflated by his best friend’s anger. It’s an anger he isn’t used to. An anger none of you are used to. The only person who seems to know where it’s coming from is Joshua and even he’s a bit thrown off by how strongly he feels. 

“Right, well, she’s done hanging out now” Joshua says, turning to DK, “And I’d appreciate you not having my girlfriend in your bedroom in the middle of the night anymore.”

“Shua!” you gasp at the insinuation of his words but there’s no time for you to protest, he’s already locking his fingers with yours, dragging you out into the hallway. 

The short trip back to his bedroom is plagued by a tense silence that only breaks when you’re behind closed doors. “Don’t do that again” Joshua forbids, his back resting against the door. 

“Don’t do what? You heard Hoshi. We were just hanging out."

“Well I don’t want you hanging out with them. Every time I turn around you’re with Vernon or Seungcheol or Hoshi. I can’t even sleep without one of them stealing…” Joshua pauses, choking on that last word. Stealing. He doesn’t mean that. Actually, he does. He only wishes that he didn’t.

“Tell me you don’t seriously think I’d cheat on you, Shua” you laugh as if it’s the silliest thing in the world because it is. You await his answer, anything to tell you that he’s joking, but you’re left with a silence that cements for you that he isn’t. “You know what, if that’s how you feel then maybe I should go.”

Too angry to even look at him, you grab your backpack from a nearby chair and begin to gather your things. It’s the middle of the night and he’s the one who drove you here but you’d rather walk home than sit around and be accused of something like this. You’d think that after a year of being together, after all you’ve gone through, he’d know how much you loved him. But clearly you thought wrong and the truth of that hurts.

Joshua can see it painted all over you and hurting you is the last thing he ever wants to do. “Please, just stop for a minute” he begs, taking your phone from your hand the second you pick it up. 

You snatch it back, ready to get out of here before someone else wakes up and he accuses you of trying to sleep with them too. “I don’t wanna hear anything else you have to say.” 

You maneuver around him to grab your hoodie from the bed when he swoops in behind you, locking his arms around your waist. He flops down on the edge of the bed, his feet firmly planted on the ground, refusing to let you go. You fight to twist your body free, fueling yourself with every bit of anger you feel towards him right now, but it isn’t enough. 

“Let me go” you demand but it only makes him hold you tighter.  

“Only if you let me say something. One thing and then I’ll let you go” he promises, “I’ll even let you take my car.”

It’s your instinct to be petty. Why should you let him get a word in when he’s said enough already? But that walk home is pretty long and you don’t really feel like hopping in a stranger's Uber this late at night.

“Fine” you huff, “Say what you have to say and then give me the keys.” 

“Look, I know you’d never cheat on me, it’s just…”

“Just what?”

“I’m jealous!” he admits, feeling equal parts embarrassed and relieved at his confession. “Minghao’s all zen and chill, Woozi’s this super cool producer, DK’s funny as fuck, Mingyu’s buff, and Vernon’s got that whole mysterious thing going on. Everyone has this thing to impress you with and what do I have? I’m afraid that the more time you spend with them the less I’ll be able to keep up. I don’t want you to get bored with me.”

You want to stay mad at him, you deserve to be for the way he acted, but it breaks your heart to know he feels this way. You can’t help but soften at the sadness in those brown eyes usually alight with so much happiness. Letting your backpack fall to the floor, you’re able to turn just enough to face him. You place a hand on each of his cheeks, trying not to lose it at the cute pouty face he’s making.

“I adore you but you’re being insane right now. I could never get bored with you, Shua. I don’t give a shit about how buff or funny or mysterious some other guy is. None of them are you and you are the only man I want in this whole world. Can you trust that?”

Joshua’s almost ashamed at how easily his insecurities are soothed by your words. For weeks he’s been holding onto these feelings, wishing he knew how to make them go away, and all along what he needed was your validation—to simply hear you swear to him that he’s enough.

“I can if you can forgive me for being an asshole” he says, easing his grip on you, now at least somewhat confident that you won’t run away. 

“Mmm, I don’t know” you sigh, chewing at your lower lip in contemplation, “I feel like I wasn’t mad at you long enough.” 

Joshua laughs, kissing you under your chin so lightly that it tickles, “Fine, stay mad at me a little longer then. I’ll just be here trying to make it up to you. Tell me when you’re done, okay?”

Parting his lips, he drags them down the softness of your chin, trailing sweet, open mouthed kisses down your neck. He rests his palms at the center of your back, smoothing them down and around to rest at your plush hips. He massages them, rocking you in his lap just enough to grind up against you. The barrier of his sweatpants and your shorts do little to stop the friction from sending a tingling sensation to your core.

You swallow hard, feeling your body flush with heat. You try your hardest to resist him, to pretend that some part of you is still upset, but how can you possibly hold that look of annoyance when he’s pushing your t-shirt up, his fingertips gently tracing the contours of your curves. “For the record, I am sorry” he says, tugging your shirt up over your head.

By the time the fabric comes to rest on the floor his lips are already skimming your breasts, his tongue teasing your sensitive buds through the lace of your bra. A hand ventures behind your back and the clasp of your bra snaps free, the straps dropping from your shoulders. You let out a gasp bordering on a moan and his lips curve into a smile at the sound of it. He’s enjoying this just as much as you are. Maybe even a little more.

Tossing your bra aside, he captures one of your pillowy breasts in his mouth, suckling at the bud as his tongue makes perfect figure eights around it. The pleasure it sends rushing through you has you tangling your fingers in the soft strands of his dark brown hair, your body arching with every flick of his tongue.

Slipping an arm around your waist and tucking a hand behind the band of your shorts, he lifts you up, laying you back on the bed. The second your head hits the pillow you’re biting your lip to choke back moans at his fingers dragging through your slick folds to stimulate your clit. He dips between your legs, using his free hand to tear your panties and shorts off at once. His fingers skate down to your dripping entrance, hovering there a moment to let him admire how wet you are.

Joshua goes all starry eyed at the arousal that leaks from you when his fingers sink into your core. And those sounds you make, those sugary little whimpers, have his cock straining against his sweatpants. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he groans, his gaze dancing back up to take in those gorgeous faces you make, “And you’re all mine, aren’t you?” 

He curls his fingers against the spongy texture of your walls, rotating his wrist at in a motion so heavenly you’re on the verge of drooling. You’re too lost in ecstacy—too busy riding his fingers to speak a word. Joshua grips your belly, pinning you down to the bed, his fingers pounding mercilessly into your needy core.

“I want you to answer me, baby, so everyone can hear you. You’re mine, aren’t you? Hmm?”

“Yes, I’m…I’m yours” you stutter, grabbing for his wrist. The feeling’s too intense, you can hardly keep still. Your heart’s racing in your chest. You want more but you fear you’ll lose your mind if it goes on like this. He’s working your sweet spot like only he knows how and you can already feel yourself coming undone. 

Joshua climbs on top of you, kissing his way up your belly, between your breasts, all the while fucking his fingers into you without missing a beat. His lips ghost yours, parting them to taste the moans that spill out. “Louder” he whispers and adds another finger, making you feel so much fuller than before. 

“I’m yours, Shua! All yours! Nobody else’s! N…nobody’s” you cry out, your moans as melodic as his favorite song.

“That’s my girl. Always so good for me” he coos, stealing your breath with a kiss laced with enough passion that you’d swear you were floating. 

If your lips were free, if your tongue weren’t fiercely tangled with his, you might spill a few broken moans out to let him know how close you are but Joshua doesn’t need your words, your body speaks for itself. The trembling of your jaw. The arching of your back. The way your walls are fluttering around his fingers, clenching tighter each time.

Reaching his thumb up, he presses it to your clit, rubbing it faster and faster until your screams fill his cheeks and your juices gush around his fingers. “Shua, mmm, oh god” you gasp, your fingers knotted in the fabric of his shirt. “I need you.” Tearing his shirt off, you summon what minimal strength you have in your weakening limbs to force him onto his back. You crawl on top of him, straddling his lap, and the room begins to spin. Maybe you made that move a little sooner than you should’ve. 

Joshua giggles at the slight sway in your movements before you collapse onto his chest, looking up at him with glossy eyes. He cups your cheek, brushing away the hair sticking to your flush cheeks. “How’d I get a girl who’s this cute all the time?”

You place your palms flat on his chest, pushing yourself back up just enough to hover over him. “Because you’re this cute all the time” you say, smiling down at the handsome man beneath you, “It’s like we were, I don’t know, made for each other or something.”

Joshua pulls his pants down, careful not to disturb your position. He likes you right where you are. His cock springs free, rubbing against your still sensitive pussy as it comes to rest between your legs, the tip of his cock wet with arousal. “Made for each other” he muses, lifting you up and slowly lowering you down onto his cock, teasing himself with the warmth of your core. “I like that.”

“Me, aah, too” you moan, your nails pressing into the bare skin of his chest enough to leave tiny indents behind.

The fullness from his fingers was one thing but it’s nothing compared to the fullness you experience when his cock’s deep inside of you, stretching you deliciously from all angles. You meant what you said when you called him insane. How could a man who looks this hot with a cock this nice ever think you’d look at someone else for a second? 

Sitting back you rotate your hips in a circular motion, alternating side to side, and your walls are just clinging to his cock as it pulses against them. You run your fingers down Joshua’s stomach, feeling the muscles tense beneath your touch. He tries to keep his eyes open because he wants to watch you—needs to see you riding his cock, your body jiggling with every movement—but his lids are growing heavy already. The pleasure hits him, wave after unforgiving wave, and all he can do is take it. 

Leaning forward, you take him by the chin, tempting him with a kiss that you ultimately deprive him of. “Now you say it” you whisper, rolling your hips to make him whimper the way he did you. You pick up speed and his eyes nearly roll back in his head. 

“Say what? Fuck, I’ll say anything you want me to say” he moans, his palms crashing into your thighs with a snap that makes them vibrate around him. 

“Say that you’re mine, all mine, so that everyone can hear.” 

The light in his eyes darkens at your request and he throws his arms around you, positioning himself at just the right angle to thrust into you. This was supposed to be your power position but he has you held tightly again, fucking into you so that you bounce up and down in his lap, the swollen head of his cock leaking deep inside of you.

“I’m yours,” he says loudly, fearlessly, “I’m yours, this cock is yours, so take me. Take it.” 

Every thrust echoes through your body. You can feel it in the tips of your fingers and your toes, taste it on the back of your tongue. It’s like heaven. Your hips are still working, eager to swallow every inch of his length, desperate to match the intensity of every thrust. The friction between you bumps your clit and the overstimulation has your body humming. You’re struggling to keep it together, fighting back the high that so badly wants to overtake you.

Joshua steals the kiss that you denied him, grabbing the soft flesh of your ass. “No holding back. Cum with me, baby.” 

As if on command, because that’s exactly what it is, you surrender, letting your high crash into you for a second time. It’s even more devastating this time around with his cock swelling inside of you, filling your walls to the brim with warm, thick ropes of cum. You’re both completely out of it, your limbs turning to jello, but you’re too greedy to stop until your bodies give out, absolutely forcing you to.

Breathless, Joshua pets your back, leaning down to plant a kiss on your forehead. You look up at him with the brightest eyes, like he’s the very center of your universe, like there’s no one else in the world who can come close, and his heart skips a beat. You do soothe his insecurities. He does need your validation and that’s okay because he knows he’ll have it always and forever. 

[lovecla]

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

00.2. how did you and jack meet?

➴ warnings: none!!

➴ word count: 1k

➴ author’s note: mostly sophia’s first nhl concert and how she and jackie boy met. i spent the entire morning working on that Nonsense outro and i am gonna say that im very proud of it lmfao. hope u enjoy!

—♡

THE room looked full.

On the stage, you could feel dozens, hell, hundreds of eyes on you. Shanon had warned you that at least two hundred people were expected but damn.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our most expected guest for tonight, Sophia Montenegro!” A man’s theatrical voice was heard just before the first notes of Nonsense.

You and your team worked really hard to make this happen, because April flew by, really. Coachella was a hit and you got so many jobs out of it, it was crazy. But this was what you were looking forward to the most.

You sat on top of a piano, black dress shining with the lights directed at you. You smiled, feeling anxious and excited and maybe just a little bit nauseous too. There were men, women and children sitting in round tables in front of you, but what really caught your attention was the group of men sitting on the table right in front of the stage, all of them wearing shirts with your face in it. And they were screaming the loudest too.

“‘Think I only want one number in my phone, I might change your contact to ‘don’t leave me alone’.”

Singing for you meant living. It was a necessity, a need. Every time you stepped on a stage, you felt alive, you felt fulfilled. You felt like maybe you were on this planet for a reason, and that reason presented itself whenever the words came out of your mouth during a song.

So you enjoyed yourself, and watched as the other people did the same. Everyone seemed to enjoy the acoustic version of Nonsense— which you had never sung before, by the way— and it was so funny to see grown ass men singing the lyrics like their life depended on it.

“Lookin’ at you got me thinkin’ nonsense. Cartwheels in my stomach when you walk in…”

“Please do the outro!” Someone shouted before the end verse and you giggled. You were already planning on doing it, but you gave the man a thumbs up either way.

“Shanon said I should keep it PG.

So, Father, I might need to be set free.

Because I really want a Devils in me.”

Loud cheers were heard and you smiled, biting your lip.

The rest of the little concert went well, and when you noticed it, you were dancing on the stage with another five players, who had two left feet and were probably a bit drunk too, but it was so much fun. One of them even asked for the mic so he could sing for a while too. You had the time of your life and you really hoped everyone else did too.

When the last song— Espresso— ended, you received a standing ovation. You felt yourself tearing up just a bit, and you closed your eyes, bowing your head.

“Thank you so much, everyone, I had so much fun tonight,” you started, voice wobbly and tired. “I didn’t know you guys were my biggest fans…”

“Nico here went to your concert!” Some guy shouted, pointing at the man— Nico, you suppose— beside him. You laughed, blowing him a kiss. The Nico guy looked like a tomato, face all red and cute, but he was wearing your merch too.

“Well, now I need to change and from what I’ve heard, we’ll have some delicious food and more amazing singers tonight, so please don’t leave!” You said, leaving the stage after another round of applause.

You found Grace in your dressing room, and you both hugged each other, yelling with excitement. “Can you believe this is our life, baby?!” Grace yelled, and you shook your head no. “I can’t either. Anyways. You have to change into a jersey and I have to take pictures of you with it.”

You looked at the jerseys hanging on the wall in front of you and smiled. “Can I have a Nico one, please?”

—♡

AFTER taking pictures with the players and their families— some of them had daughters who loved you as well—, you found yourself near the food table. You were deadass starving and you needed to get your hands on a hot dog before you passed out. Oh, and a drink as well. It was hot there.

“You got the wrong number on your back.”

You heard a playful voice behind you and you would’ve cursed, if you hadn’t had your mouth full of bread. You tried to swallow it all before you actually turned around.

What you saw was… interesting. It was probably one of the youngest guys in there, perhaps even the same age as you, and he had beautiful, blue eyes. He was wearing a white jacket and a Devils cap, so he was definitely one of the players on the team.

“Wrong number?” You asked, looking at your jersey again, the #13 plastered on your arms and back.

“Yeah. Should be wearing an eighty-six jersey instead.” He smirked.

“Let me guess. That’s your number?”

“That’s the best number. A girl like you shouldn’t be wearing anything less.”

You ignored the compliment (was it even a compliment?) and plastered a smirk on your face, too.

“I think I’m fine with Nico’s number on me. Since he’s the captain and all,” you shrugged. “He also went to my concert so that proves he is the best.”

“Sweetheart, you seriously need someone to show you what best means,” he stepped closer and suddenly your heart was racing all over again. “I happen to be the right person for it.”

“Right person?” You chuckled. “Got your hopes way too high, don’t you, lover boy?”

He shrugged, the confident smirk never leaving his face.

“Just an offer. You did say you wanted a Devils inside you.”

You audibly scoffed. This handsome ass man, with the tiniest bit of an accent and a huge lot of an attitude had some balls.

But then again. Last time you had sex with someone was a year ago, with your ridiculous ex-boyfriend, Harris. You were feeling pretty needy, but with all the work and energy you had to put into your performances, you just didn’t find the time to deal with other dipshits.

At least this one looks like he knows here your clit is.

You stepped closer, noticing how you tilted your head up so you could look into his eyes.

“Is the offer still up?”

He smiled, cocking his head to the side.

“For you, doll? It will always be.”

[narrativelysignificantturtleduck]

i'm fully willing to accept that sokka's weird "play hard to get" advice in "the fortuneteller" was just the writers (rightfully) making fun of that type of dating advice however there's a part of me that's still like. HOW did sokka come up with that. there were no girls his age in his village besides his sister so presumably he's only had 1 single romantic encounter (suki) by that point and that very much did not involve him being aloof and uninterested. yes he's lying to aang about being romantically experienced and probably pulling it out of his ass but why is that what he comes up with.

after pondering, i think there's a few possibilities:

hakoda. now, i don't think it's romantic advice hakoda would give. he's a friendly guy and presumably pulled kya just by being, y'know, sweet and funny and hot. however i CAN see him saying it as a joke. like he says something goofy and kya rolls her eyes fondly like "why did i marry you" and he's like "definitely my cool unattainable mysterious appeal" and they both crack up because he was actually adorably down bad. only thing is, baby sokka does not know that and takes the joke at face value. that's how dad said he got mom! but dad was joking. dad actually tripped over himself and fell face first into the snow when she smiled at him

some older kid in the tribe. there are no girls sokka's age in his village but i have to imagine there are other villages in the tribe, we just don't see them bc after the raid the villages got more isolated and more mobile (tents over igloos) to avoid detection by the fire nation. so baby sokka had a baby crush on a girl from another village and an slightly older boy (someone who would later be just old enough to go to war with the men and leave sokka as the oldest boy in the village) tried to give him Sage Advice. but sokka was 10 and the kid was 14 so it was Bad Advice

bato. this is the funniest option to me bc "play hard to get" is such childish advice for a grown adult to give. but it kinda fits with the whole bakoda storyline of bato quietly pining for hakoda for years. worked so hard at maintaining Maximum Aloofness that the guy he liked didn't realize it for decades

katara. okay actually maybe THIS is the funniest. she found out sokka had a crush on the girl from the other village and thinking her brother is gross and icky and no girl should have to deal with that she said hey. you know what girls like? when you pretend you're not interested :) baby katara is so cute and so full of mischief <3

[rishiimaa]

what kind of dad/mom would jjk men/women be (boy or girl)

Disclaimer! ALL BOYS ARE AGED 18 AND OLDER! NO MINORS SHOULD BE HAVING BABIES 😡 AND A LITTLE BIT OF CURSING!!

ALL FLUFF!! :3

Itadori

I feel like he’d be a boy dad, 100%, Itadori would be the kind of dad that’d that is like one of the cool ones, like when you go over for a friend’s sleepover and he’s like just such a good dad 😭 and if this was modern AU, he’d definitely put his son in football, just a thought, though!

Megumi

Megumi’s definitely a girl dad, I don’t know, I just see him being a girl dad, and I feel like he’d argue with her 24/7, but we both know that Megumi would kill for his daughter

Gojo

Once again, Gojo would be a girl dad, and he’d spoil the hell outta her, like his daughter would have the best of clothes, best of toys, best of everything, EVEN if she’s grown up, she will always be a daddies girl.

Geto

He’d be both, a girl and boy dad, because you’d have twins, and Geto would be the most patient dad of all nations, nothing could penetrate him, literally both children could be kicking and crying, IN A STORE, and literally all he’d do is just pick them both by the shirt and sit them on his shoulders, calming them down, giving you the ability to shop in PEACE

Sukuna

That’s right chat, I remembered to add Sakuna this time! Anyway, girl dad, similar to Megumi, he’s always arguing with her, but instead Sakuna’s calling her brat, and threatening to eat her tiny ears and toes, he doesn’t mean it, he just likes to fuel her fire, and he’s proud to see that she’s exactly like him with a violent side to her, Sakuna would let his daughter kick, bite, push, punch, and all he would do is sit there with a pround smug look on his face

Nobara

Boy mom, girl mom seems right, but boy mom feels right for Nobora. She’s always having her baby boy dressed up in the most fashionable outfits, from newborn to college, she will not raise her son around disgusting fashion taste!

Shoko

Same thing for Shoko, boy mom! Except she’s just totally laid back and really is just a chill mom, sorta like a traditional household with ya’ll but Shoko actually puts an effort and helps you with her son and the house, I also headcanon that she’s terrifying when she’s pissed, like if your son talks back to you, he better expect a scary ass mom glaring behind you.

Choso

Choso! My baby boy! He’s a girl dad, twins to be exact, and may I add another girl on the way? Choso has a ball handful full of girls. Anyway, he’s a total softie for his girls, he’s never once said no to them, he just can’t say no, he hates seeing their sad expressions, so instead, he’d just tell them to ask you, because he literally lacks the ability to say no.

Yuta

Yuta’s definitely a girl dad! But he’s not like the rest and he doesn’t spoil her…as much as the others, he still spoils her, but he’s a bit strict and doesn’t want her to grow up thinking she could get anything she wants, that’s why he’s a bit more mean to her if she gets disrespectful, his issue though is that he fails to put her on punishment for a long time, he just hates having to put her through that, so after an hour or two, when Yuta cools down, he’ll come in and say,

“Sorry for yelling at you, petal, just promise me you won’t do that again, okay?”

And he’ll give her a little kiss on the cheek and give her back her phone.

Maki

Maki’s a girl mom, she’s also strict like Yuta, but she’s not as easy to get though, she isn’t mean strict, she simply doesn’t want her daughter to grow up being a dumbass, so she simply asks her daughter just 30 minutes of studying everything, and then she can do whatever she wants, and if you forget? It’s fine, just remember to do it next time! And Maki is usually the one to give the punishments, simply because it just comes natural to her.

Nanami

Apologies for making pretty much all of Jjk men all girl dads, it literally just makes sense for me, but of course, the whole fandom agrees that Nanami’s a girl dad, and I feel like he’d be a stoic softie. While he’s watching his daily show, he’d let his daughter put little pink hair clips in his hair and put little pigtails, if he’s in a really good mood, he’ll even let her put on makeup! (he’s always in a good mood when if comes to his daughter and you)

[anders-jjk-drabbles]

𝒫𝑜𝓁𝓎!𝒮𝒶𝓉𝑜𝒮𝓊𝑔𝓊 𝓍 𝒢𝒩!𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇: 𝒮𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝒟𝒶𝓎

ᵃᵘᵗʰᵒʳˢ ⁿᵒᵗᵉ: ⁿᵍˡ ᶜʰ ²⁶¹ ᴴᴱᴬⱽᴵᴸʸ ⁱⁿᶠˡᵘᵉⁿᶜᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉ ᵗʰⁱˢ. ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉ ᵃ ᶠⁱᶜ ᵒᶠ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᴿᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ᴳᵒʲᵒ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴳᵉᵗᵒ. ᴺᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁱˡᵉʳ ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ!

Synopsis: Typically you were the one who always got sick, but when you woke up this morning, it was Satoru and Suguru both who fell under the weather!

Content Warnings: illness (implication of being chronically ill), Use of terms like but not limited to, "mucus". For those who are easily disturbed by words like 'snot' I kept that light and there's nothing super explicitly there. Gojo and Geto refer to the reader as 'bunny'. No use of reader or Y/N. Brief mentions of Jujutsu world and society. Nothing too serious.

ᴾˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ᵐⁱˢˢᵉᵈ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ! ♡

word count: 1.4k

You were used to getting sick. The fevers, chills, mucus, etcetera. Between Satoru, Suguru and you, more often than not it was you who caught whatever plague was rampaging through Tokyo at the time. Whenever you were sick, the two men pampered you in their own little ways. 

Suguru, who always made sure there was a pot of your favorite homemade soup hot on the stove. Who checked your fever with a kiss to your forehead, and would braid your hair back to keep it out of your face. While Satoru, would be the first to bring you meds and a bottle of water. He would sit with you for hours, holding you close while you binge-watched shows together. Whenever you would sigh and explain to him that he would get sick. Satoru would give you his signature shit-eating grin and tell you, “Don’t worry, bunny. Suguboo and I are the strongest. So we won’t get sick from a little measly cold.”

That was, of course, until both of your boys woke up sicker than dogs this morning.  Satoru’s face was bright with fever, and Suguru was coughing up a lung. Whatever they had brought home, it hadn’t gotten you. Both of them were completely out of it. Satoru was a clingy mess, hugging your thighs as he burrowed his head into your lap. Gently, you stroked the strands of sweat-soaked white hair from his forehead. He sniffed loudly, voice nasally from congestion,  “Bunny— why does this fucking suck so bad? You never act this miserable when you’re sick.” 

From the opposite side of the room, Suguru sat at the dining table, his head covered with a towel as he leaned over a bowl of steaming water. At Satoru’s whine, he lifted his head slightly, long black hair braided down his back in a French braid. A loud indignant sniff filled the room as Suguru grumbled, “It’s because, Satoru, they’re always sick. When you’re used to something it gets easie—“ His teasing chide was cut off as he released a hacking cough into his elbow. A groan escaped his lips as he returned to the head-sized cavern of steam he trapped himself in.

“My poor babies,” You cooed, smiling softly as you rubbed Satoru’s back soothingly.  It was true. As you had grown up you got sick constantly, you grew used to moving about and just weathering through whatever storm came your way. If it wasn’t contagious and just part of your usual strew of symptoms and not knocking you flat on your ass— You still existed as if everything was almost normal. “Well ya know, angel,” You patted Satoru’s back to get his attention, “Suguru has the right idea. Some steam inhalation would really help.”

In response, Satoru only wrapped himself closer around you on the couch. A muffled whine pressed against your stomach you hardly understood other than his strong disagreement to the idea. “Can’t hear ya, baby.” You giggled, pulling his hair slightly until he blinked up at you with his pretty blues and a sweet pout. 

“Don’t wanna.” Satoru huffed, sniffing indignantly, “It feels weird. Makes my head too hot and it makes me more miserable.” 

You snorted at his response, rubbing Satoru’s back soothingly. Turned out that when the strongest sorcerers got sick, they were whiny. For a while you sat there with Satoru, holding him close as he sniffed and coughed into your lap. Suguru hunched over the bowl, coughing and hacking. With a pat to Satoru’s shoulder, you murmured, “Okay, Satoru sweetie— I need to get up. I’m gonna make you both some soup.”

He whined again, pressing his forehead against the flesh of your stomach, “Nuh-uh. I’m cold and you’re warm— stay, bunny, please.”With a laugh, you shook your head slowly. “Just a little longer…” You promised easily, rubbing the back of his neck, causing contented little groans and whimpers to escape his pretty lips. A few more moments pass as you agreed and sat with him for a few minutes longer but their combined sniffing and miserable faces was more than enough to convince you. They needed something to eat here soon—

 So with a huff, and a whine of protest from Satoru, you pushed him off of your lap and back onto a pillow on the couch.  “Rest, honey.” You gave head an affectionate pat as you walked past him into the kitchen. It took you a few minutes to decide what you wanted to make, going through the cabinets and fridge as you looked through ingredients and spices. As you bent over to pull out a stock pot from the cabinet, Suguru’s hands squeezed your hips affectionately as he pressed his forehead against your shoulder blades,  “Thanks for taking care of us, bunny.” He hummed in the back of his throat, as you straightened up and he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. Compared to earlier, he definitely sounded less congested.

 The little moment in the kitchen was interrupted by Satoru’s loud groan from the couch, “Can one of you at least come and hold me? I’m miserable over here.”

Both Suguru and you burst into a fit of laughter.  He kissed your cheek and left the kitchen to join Satoru on the couch. While they settled in you hauled the pot onto the stove and got started on the soup. Meanwhile, Digimon’s theme song started in the background, bringing a sense of warmth and continuity to your chest. 

Last time you had been struck down by a nasty flu, to help you feel better Satoru had put on Digimon because the show always helped him. You never minded, not truly. When you were sick you’d drug yourself and fall asleep to the Digimon battles. Hardly ever, did you really pay attention to whatever was on the TV when you were sick. Hearing it now and the disjointed sneezing and coughing from the next room was just a mildly humorous reminder that even the strongest sorcerers need to rest and recoup. 

As the soup came to a beautiful finish. The smell wafted through the apartment. You peeked around the corner, mouth open and ready to call your boys that food was ready and to ask if they wanted anything else with it. Only to see them passed out on the couch in a tangle of limbs. Satoru’s head was tucked in the crook of his boyfriend’s neck while Suguru had an arm and a leg thrown over the white-haired sorcerer.

A small smile formed on your face as you quietly snuck over. You picked up a folded blanket hanging over the arm of the couch and draped it over the both of them. Just as you turned around to head back to the kitchen- a large hand wrapped around your wrist, tugging softly. You look back only to be met with vibrant gazes of violet and blue. 

Satoru’s hand held onto your wrist as Suguru reached for your other hand. Suguru’s velvety voice groggy with sick and sleep, “Come nap with us, bunny, please.”

How could you deny a request like that? A smile spreads on your face, “Oh… fine. Better not get me sick though.” You tease. Satoru huffed indignantly, as he pouted before yanking you into the cuddle pile. As you adjusted around, a sense of rightness filled your chest. It was natural the way you fit in their arms. The next episode of Digimon queued up right as your head found its spot on Suguru’s chest and held a tight grip on Satoru’s hand.

Turns out— Them being sick meant sick days for all of you. Within 48 hours of them waking up feeling sick and beginning to recover. You were sick once again.  Surrounded by a pile of tissues, and a cup of soup from the batch you made a couple of days ago, you sniffed miserably once again> The fever they had been battling now sent chills down your spine. Satoru’s face was still mildly flushed with fever, wondering aloud how you were sitting up when you looked so dizzy and out of it. Suguru scrolled through TikTok on his phone to keep his mind off being ill. At least all of you got to be together. Sure it sucked being sick but being sick with them? Made all of it a bit easier.

Looks like the Jujutsu world would have to wait. For now, your sorcerers and you? You would rest.

Hope you all enjoyed!!!

Please like, comment and reblog!

[georgecostanzaatemysoup]

Katherine had always had a soft spot for Zizka's "lost causes" (except Hynek... he could choke for all she cared). They were her boys (not that she would ever say it out loud) and despite their rowdiness and knack for getting into trouble, they were good men (even Hynek had his moments though it pained Katherine to admit it).

Her soft spot also extended to Zizka's two new recruits. Henry and Hans were barely out of boyhood, couldn't be no more than twenty if that, and Katherine felt a fierce need to protect them. It could be because she would never get to see her own baby grow up (perhaps her son would have grown up to be like one of these boys), or it could be that she had lost so much already that the idea of these two idiots dying would break her heart. It could also be a mix of both, too. It didn't matter, she knew she'd protect them.

She also knew there was something more to their relationship. Henry spent more time keeping his eyes on Hans than on making sure his own ass was safe (not to mention the lengths he went to to get Hans back from Maleshov), and Hans spent more time looking wistfully at the horizon whenever Henry rode away, waiting for him to come back (and don't even get her started on how much those two doted on each other, sharing an attentiveness she hadn't experienced since before her own husband died). The lovesick looks the two shared, the fond smiles, the whispered words, it wasn't hard for Katherine to see what was going on between them.

She didn't say anything, it wasn't her secret to share, and she knew how people would react if they were ever found out, but she kept an eye on them.

Like tonight, she smiled softly as she followed the two up the stairs, both drunk off their asses, leaning into each other, singing some made-up song they both came up with at some point. Henry tripped on the top step, nearly toppling over, but Hans caught him, giggling quietly.

"I've got you, love," he whispered, dusting off Henry's tunic gently. He then wrapped an arm around his waist, and the two stumbled on, Katherine trailing after them.

When she managed to steer them towards their room, almost losing track of them when she heard a clatter and some cursing coming from downstairs, she watched as they both staggered into the room and then collapsed on the bed near the door, whispering to each other too softly for her to hear.

"Alright, boys, you need anything?"

They didn't answer her, already passed out, tangled up together, foreheads touching. She rolled her eyes goodnaturedly, making quick work tugging off their boots, and then grabbed the blanket off the other bed. She covered them up, not envying their heads in the morning, and then walked out of the room, closing the door softly.

She then turned and headed back downstairs. She had to make sure her other idiots were atill alive.

[stormblessed95]

Watching Are You Sure?! EP 3

A reminder of how I do these reaction posts as I watch things. I just write my reactions and thoughts down literally they happen. Think more of a bullet point format. I'll include links when I can to videos, thanks to the people who twt who upload clips. And at the end, I'll do a better wrap up of all my opinions. I hope everyone enjoyed the show so far!!

It's Chuseok right after their trip, so they went and filmed this at the end of September 2023

JK was so sassy about Tae inviting himself along for their Jeju trip! Lol

Jikook singing along to Vs Slow Dancing 🥺🥺🥺

Not my baby Jimin already having a stomach ache 5 minutes into the episode! We just got here and it's already travel sickness round 2?! 😅😂

Jimin yelling at Taekook to go inside while he is still in the car. Just to turn around and claim abandonment lmfao. He is just like me for real. I hope the fresh air helped him feel a little better. And JK immediately ordering Pork Cutlets, one of Jimins favorites, as soon as he gets inside is just 🥺🥺

Jimin finally coming in and JK pulling a whole "oh my God, my crush is here" type of routine. Lmao boy, the hair tucking, the giant smile. Boy, stand-up!Istg they are perfect!

Caressing Jimin's thigh as soon as he sits down talking about the "view" being so beautiful 😍😏

And Tae just fawning over Jimin being cute as soon as he enters too? Lol Jimin really has these men wrapped around his finger!

Not Tae going oh we do this stuff all the time. And JK and Jimin going "bro then leave!!" Lmfao you chose to be here Tae! Enjoy your time with your besties!

Tae getting fish and Jimin asking if he should take the bones out for him 🥺😍 that's his baby! Lmfao and JKs immediate "no" 😂🤣 no one asked you Jungkook! I too, don't like de-boning anything, I need a friend like Jimin 😂

It was giving perilla leaf, not going to lie 😂😂 Jimin babying his best friend and Jimins boyfriend being like "that's a whole grown man, excuse me?!" Is the vibes being given here. And I love it 😂

Me being sat and riveted for Jimins de-boning lesson knowing I will never do this myself. Because I'm a #spoiledbitch

The way he just info dumps too 😂

JK just stimming and loving his food so hard! And I love how vmin just let him do his thing. Baby is so loved 🥰😍 it really makes my heart so happy

Jimin making a ssam for Tae just for him to leave and Jimin to chase him running and giggling down the street, even losing his shoes, to make him eat it 😂🤣😂🤣😂🤣 why are they like this? Lmao!!

JK just collecting his boyfriends shoes for him too. Lol and Tae coming back and eating as soon as Jimin tells him he doesn't have shoes. Lol he is so loved.

(x is so loved is clearly going to be the theme of my post here!)

Vmin driving in the car all leaned into each other. I love them. So freaking much. Them singing Seven and Arson too. BTS forever supporting BTS!

Jimin saying "let's take pictures together later" and Tae going "couple pictures?" Lmfao 🤣🤣🤣

Jimin having to talk Tae through how a drive through works 😂😂 my baby? How is this new to you? Lollll Jimin is suchhhh a caretaker 😍

And the way he makes sure JK stops and is hydrated too! He loves so hard!

"I'm fine!" "Im not!" That was so boyfriend, my god

"Jhope would've loved this. Ah, I miss him." God me too!

JK always going along with whatever skit or roleplay Jimin or Vmin start doing. Lmfao Jimin being like "oh, did you see his tattoos?!" Yeah, we get you 🤣

Jimin caring in JKs bag for him into the house 🥰

The 3 of them cuddling and laying on the floor together 🤣😂 before the cut to crazy head banging and Jimin having a stomach ache again 🤣 what a tonal shift lol

I'm obsessed with the pull back from touching that keeps happening. In all 3 episodes. One person on Twitter called it "controlling your habits" and I'm just ughhhhhh just hold hands 😭😭😭

Jimin singing 3D!

JK shooting Jimin in both the ass and the crotch with the water gun 😅🤣😂 the caption being an innocent 5 year old.... Lol not sure that was super innocent, but he was certainly giggly and having fun 😂 Tae also joining in and shooting Jimin, but only a few times in the ass, mostly on his back 😂 and the way Jimin just laid there and took it lmfao

The way JK watched over Jimin briefly while he was napping on the floor. That stare, those heart eyes 😍

Taekook being the absolute cutest puppies in the pool 🥰😍

Taekook drop the cuddly selca!!

JK jumping up to play as soon as he heard Jimin 😂 they are so cute! Why did they cut the entirety of Jikook playing upstairs? 👀😂

Followed by the mini wrestling match of taekook vs Jimin over the water guns and being shot again 😂

"you look pretty. You really look pretty" Jungkook please! My Jikook 🥺🥺

The distance Jungkook got with every skip in that parking lot man. Lol he is super human!

How many Jimin-ssi's did we hear in like 30 seconds when Jikook were climbing that wall together? Lmfaooo in that tone too? They like each other's muscles when watching each other climb. I get it 😂

"Jiminah, I'll show you I'm not the kid I used to be" "yeah, you are an adult now" 😂😂 Vmin lol I love Jimins dry sense of Humor too 😂😂

This whole climbing/go cart section felt very Run BTS esque lol bringing back those vibes for a moment here. Including JKs giant ass smile whenever Jimin starts messing with him or fake boxing him. That happened so often in Run

The way JK and Tae's faces immediately dropped as soon as they noticed Jimin was bleeding. There really is so much care there even when they are silly. JK saying that Jimin always gets hurt when they travel and breaks his heart 🥺🥺

"Going in order" with Jimin, Tae then JK on the go carts. I appreciate the editors acknowledging and feeding my Jimin is the hyung enjoyment 🥰

JK saying "how immature, all hung up on competing" boy you just feel left out! Lmfao because competition is at your core 😂

The way Jungkookie was looking at Jimin when Vmin were praising him 🥺🥰

Tae recording himself instead of Jimin being silly 🤣

I don't think anyone understands how much I love them and adore them.

Wrap up thoughts:

Hyung Jimin moments give me life and this episode had me well fed. He takes SUCH good care of the people he loves, and taekook in particular. He really has those men wrapped around his finger too. The love shared there is so so special and I'm so tickled anytime I get to witness it.

I also just wish for more peaceful episodes for Jimin! I'm curious how the next Jeju episode will go because after Connecticut, where they didn't have a choice but to talk about his stomach bug, they clearly were going to try and cut those moments out at first but it was so bad they couldn't. But it seemed like they are now low-key leaning into Jimins struggles as a bit with the cuts and edits now. Like it's part of the silliness of the show. Regardless, I do hope he feels better faster and doesn't get sick in Sapporo too! My poor baby 🥺😭🥰

Even with Jimin feeling sick, he still appeared to be at the center of that trio. Even when taekook were playing, they were doing so in a way that revolved around Jimin, constantly getting out to go annoy him. JK shooting him with the water gun to soak his pants in the dick and ass area was a special kind of stupid horny boy humor 😂 the way the editors covered it up (even sometimes with just camera angles) after his pants were soaked too, I know that outlines had to be on DISPLAY. Which I wouldn't be surprised if that was either one of the goals or just a nice reward for JK 😂 Poor Jimin. At least they let him nap in peace eventually!

We know Jimin did get in the pool with them at some point since they have promo shots in the water together. I'm looking forward to seeing that next episode! Or I'm going to be salty with Hybe for not giving us any of that footage! Lol

Jikook also had much larger suitcases than Tae did, who was also already there on vacation with his other friends. Did Jikook stay longer than Tae did or was it because we know they went to Busan shortly after to visit family too? It's really nice knowing that Jikook spent an extended trip together to their hometown also even if we didn't really get to know about it or see anything from it

The more hyungs that are around, the more maknae-esque our Jungkookie gets. Lol it was so cute. It IS an interesting aspect of Jikooks dynamic though, the inclusion of others and how that changes how they behave. It absolutely gives them an air of "us" at times. I know y'all know what I mean. It also highlights how much more they behave as equals, chingus, "them," when they are alone too. Because that is such an unusual dynamic and they've normalized it so much we barely blink at it anymore and some people don't even notice. He was very baby with his hyungs this episode whereas in USA, he took the lead with Jimin alot, which I did mention in my posts over those episodes.

He also was incredibly bratty and sassy in many moments of these episodes. Jimin even called him on it once 😂 this would've been the time that they had just applied for the buddy system together. And I think as much as they miss their members when they aren't there, JK also was looking forward to spending alone time with Jimin and the quick plan changes right before the trip happened put him in extra brat mode 😂😂 you could tell he was excited and happy to have Tae there though to play with. Those two had so much fun together and it was nice JK had a goof off buddy while Jimin wasn't feeling good. It also gave Jimin a much needed break I think from feeling pressure to entertain even when he wasn't feeling his best.

There were some soft and really cute moments in the first two episodes, but while there was so much chaotic energy in this episode, between Jikook, there was almost more softness. Like they save the bickering for home when they are out with others 😂 all the little touches and fondness killed me.

The cuts were horrendous this episode. Lol this was one example and there are a million more.

The episode timeline was cut all over the place. Lol so many conversations had music cut over them so we couldn't hear, so many continuity errors due to cuts. Like part of me gets it, but why was it so bad?!

Plus I'm sad we missed out on most of what was shaping us to be a Jikook wrestling match over the water guns. Oh the fanfic that'll inspire 😂 if they don't give it to us in the behinds, it's going to look incredibly suspicious 😂😂

It's also crazy to think about how this was Jikooks second trip to Jeju together. Think they went together before to scout out things they wanted to do together and enjoy the minor smaller vacation together sans cameras? Just like how they went back to the restaurant in NY alone before going back home. I really love that for them.

Sorry for only getting this post out like a week late! At least it's done before episode 4! Lol hope you all are loving AYS and having fun with it!

[gunnrblze]

Keep thinking about unhinged Walker boys. Not even after Rorke took Logan, just in general.

Like, their late teen years were very tumultuous because of ODIN/joining the army, they are 26 and 28 during the game, they’re still YOUNG.

Mid-late 20s and they’re fighting an intense war for their country, fighting on their father’s behalf, fighting a grudge from HIS past, etc. I absolutely believe, aside from their training keeping them in line (and the other Ghosts), that they’d understandably be a little manic at times.

I think you can mostly see it in the way Hesh acts sometimes in the game. Not to say he didn’t have every reason to lol, but he did act bratty and defiant at multiple points, and I think that’d be multiplied in a way we didn’t even see.

Before Elias died, he knew exactly how to keep them in line, being their father and all, but after he was gone, I see the rest of the Ghosts (especially new Captain Merrick) having to reign them in more than anticipated. With Elias being dead and Rorke still being a flaming cunt, they would struggle even more.

Keegan, Kick, hell even Neptune would have to participate in Operation: Keep The Boys Sanity Intact, because they certainly don’t have the mental bandwidth to do it themselves all the time (their brains are very FRESHLY fully developed…)

And I love that in game, Hesh has a specific monologue after Elias dies where he’s all calmly and solemnly stating that they’ll take over for their dad, finish the mission, etc. And yes they are grown ass men, been through a fuck ton of training…but let’s be so for real lmfao, that’s a lot to have on your plate for two dudes that are hardly cresting 30 years old.

I just think, aside from the few moments we see in game where they (Hesh lol) are loosing their shit a little, it’d be much more chaotic on a personal level than was shown.

I wrote something about the mentor/mentee dynamic I think Merrick would have with Hesh AFTER Logan’s taken, but I like to think he’d literally have double on his plate before Rorke snatched the baby off the beach.

I just like looking at both sides of the same coin. They grew up too fast, they’re no doubt traumatized, have been through extensive military training, and all the personal experience we see them gain….that definitely sobered them up real quick and knocked their maturity levels up several pegs.

But at the same time, I just don’t believe they’d always be that put together in the ways that we see, especially not compared to the more experienced elder Ghosts. Perhaps a sort of “we’re mature but you guys are seasoned” type of vibe.

And despite the only real description of Logan’s personality being that he’s a quiet, cold blooded killer, and an excellent soldier…bro is quite literally 26 years old and in the damn trenches, you can’t tell me he wasn’t routinely being a brat when he was able to be lol (babies of the family lock in!).

Even more interesting on Logan’s part, who would really be keeping him in line primarily when he acts up, pre or post Elias death…? Davey poo I’m afraid. And I think Hesh would get to a point where the weight of it all, plus keeping Logan in line and on the general right life path would have him tweaking.

Imagine having all that on top of you, then your dad dies, and your only surviving family is your clingy little brother…lmfao. Of course Logan is more than capable on his own as we can see in the game, but, and it’s been said before and will continue to be said, Hesh was parentified to the max. And it only becomes more clear when you read between the lines.

I just think in similar, but also their own separate ways, they’d be a little off their rocker sometimes. I like to imagine Keegan having the common fanon agreed bond with Logan, and helping him keep his eye on the prize, and I feel like Hesh would attach himself to Merrick (even older male authority figure, he lives and breathes the slivers of validation he’d get…)

And then there’s Kick…lol. In an unforeseen way, I imagine him being like a sort of glue in this scenario honestly. We don’t get much info on him, he’s hardly even in the damn game very much, but I think of him as being oddly very wise (not too far off since he’s not younger like the Walkers, but he’s probably not a whole lot older than Keegan/Ajax either) despite his nervous system being just as shot from fighting a war. He’d be like the cousin with some randomly sage advice for Hesh and Logan.

TLDR; the Walker brothers are frazzled, they need an Ativan, therapy, and a long winters nap