#gets all angry at himself bc it’s not finished and he wanted to put it on himself

[oooohno]

he makes the rings himself???? 😭😭😭😭 oh nana why am I beside myself at this he loves u so much wow

how does it go when he gives your ring to you? that is the most romantic thing ever

Thank you so much for asking 🥺 I mean look at how much effort and dedication he puts into forging Tanjiro’s sword! Once he realizes and accepts his love for his partner he would never let someone else create something so personal that’s meant to last forever 💕

Since he isn’t the best with words or with grand gestures and he’s struggling with knowing when to stop working and perfecting he waits way too long to propose and doesn’t actually give it to me himself. I find him fast asleep in his workshop in the early morning hours. I see the rings and try the smaller one on bc it’s too pretty to resist touching. And that’s the moment he wakes up bleary eyed and I tell him how stunning it is & he sleep-drunkenly says ‘good. because it’s yours’.

[bonestrouslingbones]

btw big shoutout to that woodworking class i took in my final semester of high school for allowing me to 1. not constantly sound like i'm talking entirely out of my ass and 2. hide some very niche secrets because of the like 2 full months of paperwork & osha training before i got to actually build anything

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。what if you’re someone i just want around (i’m falling again)

synopsis. somewhere along the line, you started to hate suguru—that doesn’t mean you stopped loving him too

— word count. 9.5k (i am in misery)

— contents. post canon! au — fix it! (we all need a good fix it fic with suguru don't lie), this fic was started before recent manga chapters so the higher ups are still alive—just go with it ok :,), geto survives + lives free of kenjaku, exes to lovers, kind of redemption i suppose, mentions of blood, injuries, and weight loss (geto), mentions of canon character deaths (nanako, mimiko, nanami), mentions of wanting to raise children with geto and have a family, no gendered terms but reader has a personality and actual thoughts and feelings, references to the hunger games (you have movie night lol), BFF satoru (he is babie), there is a kiss y’all !! (scandalous i know :O)

— notes. i started this fic back in march and i had trouble with it and put it on pause for a while. i’m very glad i finished it in the end. i always like fix it! fics and this is self-indulgent and idk if ppl will read it bc it’s sfw but it’s ok if they don’t, i loved writing it. thank you koi for beta-reading this whole bad boy. mwah <333

the day suguru is declared a free man is actually the day he signs away his freedom for good. 

you say nothing, but you know it’s the truth. satoru fights tooth and nail to plead suguru’s case—you think it’s perhaps a little too desperate for it to be in the best interest of suguru and not himself. but satoru has suffered enough, and admittedly—although you deny it—a small part of you does not want to lose suguru twice. you watch as satoru argues that suguru has already died once—surely he can’t die again? and losing control of his body and mind is paying for his crimes enough, is it not? he argues that there are no ideals left for a man like geto suguru to chase after losing himself to every principle he had left. 

and then satoru wins. 

you expect it, but it doesn’t make it any easier. you watch numbly as suguru is assigned under your watch. you should be happy. you love suguru—you never stopped. but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s not a free man, and now he drags your freedom with his. you’ll never break away from him, never cut through the ropes that tie your hands behind your back and bind you to him—and then you wonder for a moment, unsure if it’s selfish or selfless or some cruel in-between to think this way, if geto suguru was better off dead. 

whether that’s for your sake, or his, you’re not sure. 

and yes, he’s let off alive, and sure, there’s no real punishment for all he’s done, but you know deep down he’s as chained and shackled as he’s ever been. he’s not allowed to leave the house unless you or satoru are there to chaperone, and it’s never to be anywhere near non-sorcerers. he’s not to live in a place of his own until the higher up’s deem him trustworthy. he has to ask you to buy the things he wants from the grocery store. he can’t even step outside for a smoke unless you’re aware. 

for a long time, he doesn’t speak much—can hardly muster a barely audible mornin’ back when you force a smile and greet him cheerily for breakfast. slowly, it turns into half-snarky conversations that get cut short by one of you leaving the room. finally, you’re civil—maybe even friendly. you’re not so sure where you stand with him as of now.

it’s not the same suguru you remember falling in love with, it’s not even close to the version of the man you fell for all those years ago. it’s hard having him here—some days you’re angry and want to throw him out, to scream at him for haunting you again just when you think you’ve moved on from the horrors of your past. some days you want to cry and cling to him, bury your face into his neck and thank him for being here again, for finding his way back to you. and some days you wish you never met him at all, that this would all be easier if it didn’t exist in the first place. 

he’s not the same geto suguru you loved, but somehow, because life is as bitter as it is ruthless, you fall in love with this version just as hard no matter how much you deny it. 

“i made your favorite,” you smile gently, placing a neat plate of french toast with freshly cut strawberries on the side. you even take great care to get the syrup-to-powdered sugar ratio he likes right, but he doesn’t make a move to reach for the plate. instead, suguru sits at the table stiffly, like he has to be here or there are consequences for that too. it almost makes you sad—even here, he’s not free. 

“thanks,” he says quietly, “but i’m not hungry.”

“you said that last night, suguru,” you sigh, “and at lunch. and at breakfast. and at dinner the night before—”

“i’ll eat it later,” he cuts you off, playing with the ends of his hair. 

it’s a lot shorter now. it’s you who finds his body battered and bruised after the smoke clears. he’s almost unrecognizable, not the same charming and perfect suguru you’re used to seeing. not the same silkened strands and smooth skin, not the same muscled and toned body, not the same chiseled jaw and soft cheeks. instead, he’s a shell of himself. his hair is matted in knots, his body is almost frail, and you notice the sunken hollows of his cheeks and dark undereyes as you lift him from the rubble a little too easily. but his body is his own—that much you can tell from the way the stitches have disappeared. 

it takes shoko a long time to nurse him back to health—it takes even longer for him to open his eyes.

you waited day and night by his side, hand over his as he breathed slowly, unconscious and unsuspecting. it would be so easy, you think one night, it would be so easy to kill him and forget and move on. 

you’ve already grieved him once before. you’ve felt and conquered the pain of loving geto suguru and losing him first to himself and then to death. but love is as selfish as it is selfless, and it’s under your mercy that you let him live—yet it’s under your cowardice that you keep him close. 

“you have to gain back the weight you lost, suguru,” you sigh, “you’re w—”

“weak?” he finishes for you, eyeing you for a second and then grinning. it’s unsettling, a grin that makes your skin crawl and your heart stop for a moment before he’s reaching for the fork and stabbing into his toast. “is that what you wanted to say? that i’m weak?”

“suguru, you know that’s not how i meant—”

“you’re not wrong,” he hums, chewing on the first bite as he speaks, “i suppose i am pretty weak right now, huh? couldn’t even kill you in your sleep if i tried could i?”

your throat is dry as you shrug, “i suppose not,” you whisper. 

“ah,” he grins again, “but that doesn’t stop you from locking your door every night, does it?” 

suguru is still healing. his body is weak, and sometimes, he leans against the wall as he walks. his arm is healed—you’re not entirely sure how, but you catch him rolling the shoulder out every now and then like it’s sore and stiff. he’s lost a lot of weight—part of it is from being bedridden for as long as he was, injured and half alive, and part of it is from barely eating—save for the few bites you force into him. you never thought there’d be a day when you could say this—but the odds of you beating suguru in hand-to-hand combat are high, and the reality is an everlasting reminder that he is not who you fell for. 

you swallow, letting out a shaky breath as he watches you closely, diligently cutting another bite from the french toast sitting on his plate as he stares you down like he can see past your soul. you don’t know what’s scarier—that suguru can still practically see yours, or that you’re unsure he even has one anymore. 

“you tried coming in?” you ask, unsure what else to say. he merely shrugs, takes another bite, and sets his fork down. 

“thought i’d check on you,” he pops a strawberry half into his mouth as he speaks.

“is that what it really was?” you raise a brow, “or was i right to lock the door?”

you’re not sure why you lock the door at night. maybe it’s because you don’t trust him, or maybe it’s because you don’t want him near you just yet. you’re not sure. you’re not sure how satoru can go back to his cheery self, how he can step through your door and boom a loud yo, suguru! before settling beside suguru on the couch with his feet on the coffee table as he rambles away. maybe it’s not real—maybe it’s satoru desperately pretending that if he tries hard enough, things can go back to how they were. 

but you don’t know how he still has the energy to try, and you don’t know if you have it in you to try anymore yourself. 

you and suguru stare each other down like that for a bit, the tension rising with every silent second that passes. you’re sure he doesn’t want to be here as much as you don’t want him around—but you’re also sure he’s glad it’s here with you as much as you’re glad it’s with no one else.

“you tell me,” he smirks after a bit, the hint of amusement making your fists clench. how dare he have the audacity to look at you like that in your own home? like he has the upper hand over you without trying? “what do you think i was there for?”

“i think you should stay in your room, suguru,” you say carefully, “i bought a new bed just for that room.”

“how sweet of you,” he hums. he sips the tea before him—it’s cold by now, but it’s just how he likes it, rose with one sugar. “you must have been excited to have me.”

“hardly,” you mumble bitterly—you can’t help it. you want him to feel hurt, even just a little. you want him to know that just because he’s back, it doesn’t mean you’ve waited all this time for him to be. liar, a part of you says, you’ve always waited for him, haven’t you? but suguru doesn’t seem phased—he doesn’t even blink.

“then tell me, why am i here?” suguru asks, his tone is as casual as ever. 

i wish i knew, you want to say. i wish i knew but i don’t.

“because satoru asked you to be,” is all you can say.

he nods, pushing back his plate and standing up, offering you that same grin. “you’re right,” he hums, “that’s exactly why i’m here.”

it hits you why his smile is so unsettling once he leaves—it’s almost genuine, like he’s still loved you all this time. impossible, you tell yourself. suguru stopped loving you a long time ago. and you need to stop trying to figure out why. 

————————————————

even despite telling yourself you don’t care what suguru thinks, a small part of you needs to prove to him you’re not scared of him. that you don’t fear for your own safety in your home, and that him being here is not some form of him haunting you. you don’t care. he shouldn’t get the luxury of thinking you care. he can come in and watch you sleep like the creep he is if he wants—you couldn’t bother to give it a second thought. 

the first night you take a chance and leave the door unlocked, suguru slips into bed beside you. it wakes you up instantly, and before you can question it, his head tucks into your neck, and his hand grasps your shirt tightly. you notice the panting almost instantly—and then you realize, it must be a nightmare. 

you fall into old habits, even after all these years, defaulting to care for him like it’s second nature. 

“you’re safe, suguru,” is what you settle for saying after a moment of contemplation. it’s all you can really think to say, so you brush your lips over the top of his head as you murmur, “you’re safe,” over and over again. 

as difficult as it is to have suguru around, as painful and cruel and aggravating as it is to be reminded of his distant existence even as he’s two doors down, this part feels natural. it’s almost like you’re back in jujutsu high, waking up to him sneaking into your room as he presses his weight over your body and wakes you with soft kisses along your face. 

except this time, he’s not annoyingly demanding cuddles or telling you about his weird dream, he’s not stealing your blanket and demanding you play with his hair. this time, it’s not the same suguru—and this time, it’s not jujutsu high. 

it’s your room. the one you got on the other side of town to leave the sorcery world behind, somehow still stuck right in the center of it no matter where you go. and yet, just like all those years ago, your legs tangle, and your arms wrap him up, and you murmur, “you’re safe,” while he catches his breath. 

“but they’re not,” he mutters in between labored pants, making you pause. 

and then you remember. 

faintly, you recall the blonde and black hair from a distance, you remember bitterly wondering what’d it be like watching suguru fathering children of your own as you came to the reality that it would never happen. sometimes, you wonder if you hate nanako and mimiko for existing, for living as the dreams you never got to live through with suguru. 

it’s selfish—to hate two children because they are what you do not have. 

but then you feel something wet hit your neck, and then you wish they were okay—for his sake. and just for a moment, you’re selfless again. 

“they’re not safe,” he mutters, making you sigh. 

“they are,” you whisper, hesitating for a moment before letting your fingers slip into his hair. you scratch gently at his scalp, feeling his body melt into yours almost instantly—like it’s a response that’s natural to him. “they’re not suffering. not anymore.”

“is that supposed to make me feel better?” he scoffs. you shrug, letting your cheek press against the top of his head as you sigh.

“it helps me feel better,” you say softly, “‘s just how you learn to cope.”

it’s an understanding you both silently come to. loss on both sides. bloodshed on either ground. defeat no matter which ideal you take. to love is to bear the pain of mortality—it’s a lesson that you never cease to learn until the ends of time itself. 

“the jujutsu world is one of suffering,” he grits, sniffling into your neck. you hum, pressing a kiss to his head as your eyes close. 

“every world is one of suffering, suguru, you can’t erase them all. the sooner you realize that, the easier you’ll find peace.”

you fall into a slumber after that, faintly aware of the way he shuffles closer to you, faintly aware of the soft kiss pressed to your skin as sleep takes over your body and drifts you out of consciousness. 

when you wake up the next morning, suguru is gone, and the door is closed. the blanket is tucked up to your chin, and your neck still tingles from last night. 

————————————————

“get up,” you throw a pillow at suguru, waking him up with a start as he sits up. his hair is tousled and messy from sleep—it’s now long enough that he can put it in a bun without strands slipping from the bottom anymore. you chuckle as he glares at you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he groans. 

“the fuck was that for?” he grunts, holding the blanket up to cover his exposed chest. 

it’s funny that he does that, in a way. it’s not as though you haven’t seen his chest…and then some too. it’s not like you haven’t torn his shirt off to stanch the flow of blood from his injuries before or feel the bare skin with your palm under the pale moonlight as the lingering scent of sex breezes through the room. 

but somehow, even though he doesn’t need to cover his chest around you of all people, you’re glad that he does. truthfully, it keeps you slightly comforted to know that he’s aware you’re still technically strangers—no matter how well-versed you are in each other’s pasts. but you don’t ponder on it too much. instead, you grin, shoving aside the visual of the small glance you caught at his pecs, and you clap your hands to motion him to hurry. 

“we are going grocery shopping,” you say casually—as though it’s not something to make him raise a brow in shock.

“me?” he points a finger at himself. you roll your eyes, and he challenges you with another raise of his brow. “aren’t i supposed to stay away from civilians?”

“yes, you,” you nod, pointing back at him, “and satoru has worked overtime to get you granted permission to roam around with me. he says you’re welcome, by the way.”

“tell him to go fuck off.”

“that’s ungrateful,” you say flatly, “his feelings will be hurt.”

“his feelings will find a way to cope,” suguru huffs. “i don’t want to be around…them,” he says bitterly. 

you suppose it’s wishful thinking to hope suguru has let go of his past beliefs. perhaps he’s long abandoned the possibility of the vision he once planned on bringing to life, but you can’t say you expected him to revert back to the old suguru who fought alongside you and satoru. you yourself certainly have no intention of returning to the sorcery world after all the events, so you can’t say you’re shocked by the lack of change he seems to show. but then again, you suppose suguru has changed. whether he sees it or not. 

he stays here and doesn’t put up a fight to leave even though he can now that he’s healed. he eats lunch when you tell him and even washes the dishes. sometimes, when you come home a bit late, dinner is even ready on the table as he sits and stares at you expectantly. his plate is empty like yours—like he’s been waiting for you even though he doesn’t need to. you suppose you can see he’s changed in the way he doesn’t scoff at the tv channels you surf through, he silently sits on the opposite end of the couch now and watches with you, and perhaps if you’re lucky, you’ll hear a light chuckle or a quiet sigh as the scenes roll on the screen. 

you suppose this suguru is a step closer to your suguru every day he spends with you, but you don’t know if any suguru is what you need right now. perhaps that name should’ve been buried away as a distant memory, perhaps it should’ve only been something you unlock once every year on his death anniversary—when satoru clambers through your door drunk and unsteady as he clutches the hand that killed his best friend, only to share pancakes with you in the morning and pretend like you don’t notice the dried tears on his cheeks while he acts like he doesn’t catch the way your hand shakes as you cut into your breakfast. 

but suguru is here now. whether it’s as geto, one half of the strongest duo in jujutsu high, whether it’s as suguru, the love of your life and the sole reason you exist, or whether it’s as geto suguru, the curse user and mass murderer who haunts your past, present, and everything in between. 

so you simply sigh, grab the pillow again, and hit the top of his head before walking over to the door as you call over your shoulder, “i’m gonna wait for you by the door in fifteen minutes. be ready or face the consequences..”

“no thanks. don’t wanna,” suguru grumbles petulantly, frowning at you as you stick your tongue at him, smirking as if you’ve just played your ace. 

“too bad,” you sing before swinging the door shut.

he’s at the door in exactly fifteen minutes, like he waited until the last possible second to join you as a move of spite. but you simply gesture him out the door and lock up, taking your sweet time as he stands there with an annoyed face. you stare at the doorknob once you’re done, taking a deep breath before turning to him with your best smile. 

“let’s go,” you hum.

“after you,” he mutters.

—

he grimaces as soon as he sees the people going about their business, clearly unhappy with the idea of being around non-sorcerers, but one sharp glare from you has him sighing and trekking along. the grocery store, admittedly, is not as bad as suguru thinks—in fact, there are lots of things he doesn’t realize he misses until he watches you grab a shopping cart. 

suddenly, he sees shadows. the silhouette of your figure climbing into the cart, the angry wave of satoru’s hands as he claims it's his turn to be pushed around, the figure of shoko pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation from the back—and then, he sees the dark shadow of baggy pants and a small bun. it’s him. suguru watches himself almost in slow motion through the remnants of his imagination as he gently shoves satoru out of the way and reaches to poke the tip of your nose before he pushes the cart with you in it.  

it’s a happy memory—and it’s gone all too soon.

as soon as he blinks, the shadows have disappeared—instead, it’s you waving a hand in his face, concern written on your features as you call his name. 

“suguru? hey, hello? are you with me?”

he exhales, pulled from his trance as he gently grabs your wrist from in front of his face and sets it down as he nods, “yeah, i’m fine. just thinking,” he mumbles. 

for a second, you hesitate, like you almost mean to say something. but in the end, you only nod before turning to grab the shopping cart. but he stops you—grabs the handle and turns to you with a small smile on his face, making you raise a brow as he gently moves you away. 

“what are you—”

“get in,” he grins, making you stare at him in bewilderment. 

“what?”

“just get in,” he sighs, “you love it when you get to sit in the cart.”

“i’m not a teenager anymore—”

“get in, will you?” he groans, “always so damn difficult.”

“hey,” you pout, glaring at him with your hands planted at your hips, “that’s rude.” it’s cute. suguru stares at you with amusement in his eyes and a soft look on his face that you don’t think you’ve really seen in years. 

“humor me,” he hums, “just get in, okay?”

so you do. 

with a huff and a grumble under your breath, you fight back a smile and climb into the damn cart just like old times. you swallow and try not to let it get to you when he reaches over and pokes the tip of your nose and pushes the cart around, letting you name off the things you need from your list while he grabs them. and when he sneaks snacks into the pile, you roll your eyes and glare at him in the way you always did—the one that isn’t actually annoyed. fond. happy to let it slide because it’s him.

“we need candy,” you murmur, “that’s the last thing on the list.”

“okay. what kind?” he asks, turning the cart into the candy aisle and smiling softly down at you.

“doesn’t matter, satoru eats anything as long as it’s sweet. he’s more likely to die from sugar than fighting a curse, i think.”

“you buy candy for satoru?” he asks, making you shrug as you reach over and grab a few bags of candy off the shelves, setting them down beside you. 

“he comes over a lot so i learned to keep stuff stocked up for him. you know how he gets when he’s hungry.”

suguru feels something he hasn’t felt since he was a teenager. jealousy—specifically of satoru. 

suguru is not foolish. he knows as soon as he meets gojo satoru that of the two, one of them is stronger and it’s definitely not himself. for the longest time, he’s okay with that, okay being the strongest only when alongside satoru—until he’s not. and even if suguru always had a bit more attention in the romance department than satoru, in his head he’s always known that perhaps satoru can keep you safer, more well off, maybe even happier. with smooth smiles and eyes as welcoming as an oasis, gojo satoru would never leave you in the dark pit of misery as suguru once had. 

something about the thought of you and satoru keeping each other company through the lonely years, filling that empty spot suguru left behind, sharing moments over candy and empty wrappers makes suguru wonder for a moment if perhaps he’d be happier if he stayed. maybe he could have worn a heartfelt smile in a world that carves them off the faces of sorcerers with bloody knives as long as you were there to wipe the blood.  

but before he can dwell on it, you snatch one more bag—this time of his favorite candy, placing it into the cart and grinning gently up at him. 

“i haven’t bought this one in years,” you admit, “i almost forget how it tastes.”

“me too,” he says quietly.

“well,” you hum, “we’ll have to have some when we’re home.”

home. you say it as though it belongs to him as much as it does you, and then like you always have, without even meaning to, you wash away the dark stains of his jealousy with no trace left behind.

“yeah,” he chuckles, “we—”

“daddy, look! candy!” suguru is cut off by the gentle pitter-patter of two tiny feet running into the aisle, pointing at a bag of candy as a man follows close behind. 

his breath hitches. 

she’s small, the girl—she has two pigtails with soft strands of blonde hair falling out of the loosely tied bands. it reminds suguru of the first time he perfected tying up nanako’s hair, the soft giggles behind her tiny hand as she twirled in the mirror. 

there’s another girl in the man’s arms—dark hair on her head as she curls into her father’s chest and tucks her head into his neck when she sees you and suguru in the aisle. she’s shy, he realizes, like mimiko, and suddenly he remembers the tiny fingers that used to hook into his pants when she got too overwhelmed by the people around her, waiting for suguru to scoop her into his arms. 

perhaps in another life, suguru would redo everything differently—he’d be happy with you and satoru and shoko, and nanami and haibara would be there too, well and alive. but no matter what, he’d never redo nanako and mimiko differently. he’d never change a thing about them, not even the way nanako whines too much about small things or the way mimiko never speaks up even when something is clearly bothering her. he’d never change the way he saved them and took them in at the tender age of eighteen, too lost to be a father but choosing to raise them anyway. he’d never change the feeling of pure joy and unbridled pride when they climbed into his bed for the first time, shushing each other so as not to wake him—even though he’d awoken as soon as the door to his room opened. 

because he realized that night that yeah, maybe he’d made mistakes in his lifetime, lots of them too. maybe he’d made a bad choice choosing the path he did, or maybe he didn’t. he’s never been completely sure—just that he had to try at least to make his vision for a different world come to life. but one mistake he never made was his girls. one thing he was always sure about was the soft clutch at his pants and the tiny hands reaching for his own.

suguru wouldn’t change anything about nanako and mimiko—except maybe the fact that they aren’t here, gone because of him. 

“suguru?” you ask softly, reaching for his hand as he grips the cart tightly and pulling his gaze away from the family in the distance. 

he blinks, meets your eyes, and knows that you know. with one glance at your face, he knows you understand. the world is cruel, one filled with suffering, he thinks. but then he remembers what you said, that every world is full of suffering, not just his—that it’s a truth he has to come face to face with.

but it’s hard. it’s hard when this man has his two little girls and suguru does not—it’s hard to watch someone have what he wants with no worries of losing it, all because of people and their own weaknesses. he thinks for a moment that he’s been right all along—that non-sorcerers are too weak for this life, that the jujutsu world has always suffered so they don’t have to. 

but then the man speaks up, catching both of your attention. 

“your mother used to love those,” he says quietly to his daughter, a pained smile on his face. instantly, you and suguru both seem to understand the weight of that single sentence. 

every world has its own pain, suguru realizes. its own cruelties and unfairness, its own way of bringing suffering in its wake as it rips away the things closest to you from your begging fingertips, leaving them cold and empty and numb from the lost weight underneath them. 

“let’s go, suguru,” you whisper, “we have everything we came for.”

“yeah,” he whispers back, clearing his throat so his voice doesn’t crack, “let’s go.”

suguru leaves the grocery store with you after you pay, and for a brief moment, he’s unsure. unsure whether he’s grateful to satoru for fighting for him to be able to come and grateful to you for dragging him along, or if he wishes he died along with the rubble, gone before you could find him and turn him into this.

“before you even think about hiding away in your room,” you say, grabbing the bags from the cart as you put it back where it belongs, “you have to help with putting away the groceries.”

“sure,” he says smoothly. he grabs all the heavy bags from your hand, and you make a move to protest that you don’t need him to take the heavier ones, that you’re fine and can handle them like you’ve always handled them. 

but he walks off, and finally, you decide to simply follow.

————————————————

satoru likes to come and visit—you’ve started a routine movie night every week (unless he’s away, of course.) it’s fun, but it also means he makes your veins pop because he’s a headache like that—always makes himself right at home and eats your snacks like this is his place and not yours. he helps himself to your already limited candy and puts his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table no matter how many times you tell him not to. 

you try sitting with legs as long as these, he always whines, earning a harsh glare from you as you smack at his shins until he ultimately caves and begrudgingly sets his feet down. 

but then they always make their way back up to the coffee table, and you’re too busy enjoying his company to care—although you’ll never admit it. 

satoru is endearing like that, swallowing the dark clouds from your shoulders whole and eating up your burdens with that side of responsibility that you don’t think you could ever stomach. satoru is just like that, you realize, taking the brunt of the weight and laughing off every concern until you can’t help but not take them seriously yourself. 

it’s hard to remember that sometimes you didn’t just lose suguru, the love of your life, that night. everyone lost something. shoko lost someone to smoke with, yaga lost a student to scold, nanami lost a headache to avoid, and satoru?

well…satoru lost what you think might’ve been the only filled void of his miserably empty life. 

it’s hard to remember that satoru lost his best friend—the only best friend he’s ever had (although you like to think of yourself as a close contender)—because he’s so good at letting you forget. he brings you ice cream (that he eats half of because it’s only fair he gets a share), and he sits and hogs your couch (that he argues you don’t really need as much space as him on because your legs aren’t as long), and he watches those stupid sitcoms that are dry with boring jokes (that you used to make suguru watch back in the day).

it’s hard to remember that satoru also lost as much as you because he’s so damn good at making you forget about your own loss, you don’t care to think about anyone else’s for a while. just a short while. just until he’s yawning that obnoxiously loud yawn and stretching those awkwardly long limbs of his before he claims he really should go and that being the world’s best teacher requires as many hours of beauty sleep as you can squeeze in. 

and then he’s off. and it’s empty again. and just like that, you’re reminded of why he was there in the first place—to fill in that sick and painful void that geto suguru left in you. 

it’s gaping, like he tore a chunk of you right out with sharp teeth, like you’re just a piece of meat for him to get his fill of. if suguru really loved you, would you be so easy to let go of? why couldn’t he smile? because you could—god, you could smile just from the sight of him alone, you realize a long time ago. him with his cigarette tucked between his lips, those death sticks as you called them, hung loosely from his mouth as he gives you a lopsided grin. 

geto suguru is enough of a reason to smile. the world could crumble at your feet and leave you with nothing but rubble and dirt, and still, suguru is the core of the earth you’re searching for. 

so why couldn’t you be the same? what is it you were missing? what about you was just not enough for him like the way he was enough for you? 

it dawns on you one night, through bitter tears and shaky sobs, and that sick, twisted, pleading feeling in your gut that begs the wind to carry him back to you—geto suguru has never loved you the way you loved him.

and for that, you can never forgive him, you don’t think.

“you tryin’ to go bug-eyed?” he asks, settling down on the couch next to you, making you snap out of your trance. you shake your head a little, stare back at him for a moment before putting on that look on your face where you roll your eyes and pretend everything is fine.

“no,” you huff, “i’m just thinking.”

“about…?”

“satoru has rarely ever missed a movie night.”

“maybe he’s sick of you,” he shrugs, grinning slyly at you as you narrow your eyes with a glare, “there’s someone here to keep you company now so he’s probably taken his opportunity to run.”

“you’re hardly company,” you scoff, “freeloader.”

“hey,” he defends, shrugging as if it’s not his fault. you suppose it’s not. “i didn’t ask to be rescued. you can’t be high and mighty and petty. ‘s not how that works.”

“says who? you don’t make the rules. i can be graciously kind and a jerk all at once.”

“complexity,” he nods, “i like it.”

“i’m not as complicated as you might think,” you grumble, crossing your arms as you stare at the time. yeah, satoru isn’t making it—which, he told you as much, but he’s strolled in at the last second too many times to count before. you figure today would be the same. “as long as you don’t skip movie nights with me, i’m pretty simple to keep appeased.”

“alright,” he props his feet up on the coffee table—seriously, what is it with asshole men putting their feet on your table? satoru is a terrible influence. “let’s have a movie night.”

“what?” you blink.

“movie night,” he repeats, “you said you don’t like skipping movie night—”

“well, i meant i don’t like satoru skipping movie—”

“well, it was me before satoru, wasn’t it?” he says with a smile. his eyes are closed, crinkled at the corners, but his voice is carefully neutral—like he takes extra care not to let you see any emotion behind it. 

but that only means there is an emotion, isn’t there? is he jealous? does he hate the fact that you and satoru have a routine of your own without him? that you don’t need him to continue living your life? 

good. he should be. he walked out on you all those years ago. he killed a village. killed his parents. you never even got to meet them—he never even got to take you home and introduce you to them before he ripped away every fantasy you ever had with him. 

and now he’s back—he has the audacity to live, to laugh in your face with his existence that yes, geto suguru is here. and he was supposed to be executed, but your stubborn friend didn’t let that happen. he was supposed to be your husband by now with kids and a happy little home, and you were supposed to be his parent’s new addition to their family that they loved so much. but none of that is even close to happening, and it’s suguru’s fault, and the least he can do is show you some regret and maybe feel just the slightest bit bad that you now have to watch shitty movies with his best friend instead of him to feel normal. 

ex-best friend? half best friend? you don’t even know—do they still consider each other their best friends? does anyone consider suguru anything? you don’t know what you consider him. but you think the least he can do is act just the slightest bit pathetic after making you feel so pathetic for so long just to even the score. 

he should be a stranger. he feels like an old friend. but either is dangerous. 

“alright,” you sigh, “let's bring back movie night. don’t fall asleep.”

“i get plenty of sleep nowadays,” he hums, “i have more than enough free time for that now.”

“how lucky of you,” you snort. 

—

picking a movie with suguru is difficult. he actually has standards—satoru watches anything so long as he gets snacks, and he can make anything fun to watch with the way he comments from the side like a critic. suguru, on the other hand, actually cares about the quality of a movie, the metrics that make it good. 

so you pick the hunger games just to piss him off. 

“seriously?” he raises a brow, “this is your pick?”

“yes,” you grin, “i like these movies.”

“of all movies—”

“my house, my rules,” you grin cheekily, “you can pick the movies as soon as you start paying the bills.”

“wow,” he deadpans, “stooping to use my financial status against me? i thought you were better than this.”

“oh suguru,” you sigh dramatically, grabbing a bag of chips from the table, “you don’t know me at all.”

all things considered, you think it’s a rather enjoyable experience. it’s not as fun without satoru’s stupid comments that you pretend to hate, but suguru provides his own commentary that earns a giggle out of you here and there too—although his are not meant to be funny. but that’s the appeal of it, you think. 

“she should have picked gale,” he mumbles. you raise a brow.

“peeta was always there for her, did you miss the rain scene?”

“so was gale,” he says smoothly, grabbing a chip from your bag and making you scowl.

“gale killed her sister,” you point out, “and a lot of other people too. he was ruthless. she needed peeta.”

“gale did what he had to do,” suguru mumbles. 

suddenly, it doesn’t really feel like you’re discussing the movie anymore. it feels more than that. it feels sickening—the air is heavy, and your throat is dry and god, you just wanted a movie night and not this heaviness as you talk about stuff from the past without actually talking about it. 

you blink before turning to your chips, playing around with the bag as you shrug. 

“in the end he didn’t get katniss, did he?”

suguru studies you for a moment, stares a little too deep into you that you start to feel the urge to bolt to your room and go to bed. 

“guess not,” he says quietly, “guess that’s the one regret he has, huh?”

you think for a second, as suguru stares at your eyes with something you can’t quite read, that you might cry. you might cry and throw that half-empty can of soda in his face for speaking in codes and making you question what he means and remember your past. you might cry because suguru could’ve always gotten you—in fact, he had you.

it’s not fair. nothing is, but you can’t help but dwell on it.

“i’m going to bed. it’s late,” you mumble after a few moments, standing. he only nods, staring at the tv as the credits roll. when you make it to your room and the door shuts behind you, you debate clicking the lock in place. 

in the end, you don’t lock the door. suguru climbs into bed with you once more later that night, shaking slightly from his nightmare but calmer than usual. he’s still gone by the time morning comes, and you still never mention it.

it hits you one night that maybe he still has you—maybe you never let him stop having you, no matter what you say.

————————————————

suguru is good at cleaning while you’re away. you have to go out and do adult things like breadwinning and grocery shopping and bill paying. he dusts and cleans and even takes out the trash when you’re home to monitor him as he steps two feet out of your front door. sometimes, because you like to get on his nerves, you accidentally mess up a corner of the house just as he cleans it, laughing as he shoots you an unimpressed look. 

“stop getting crumbs on the floor,” he mumbles, “i just vacuumed.”

“you make a good malewife,” you giggle, “vacuuming and everything. how cute.”

“don’t call me that,” he grumbles, sitting down on the couch. 

“but you missed a spot,” you point to the crumbs you’ve sprinkled from your fingers as you snack away, making him glare. “failwife.”

“i’m going to divorce you and take everything,” he snaps, making you snort as you put your hands up in surrender.

“you don’t have to, you know,” you murmur, “clean, i mean. i can handle it.”

“i think i should carry my weight around here,” he shrugs, “since you are basically sugar babying me around for now.”

“dangerous curse user to the world, but sugar baby to me,” you tease, pulling a chuckle out of him as he rolls his eyes. 

sometimes it’s nice to have his company. suguru is good with banter like that, he’s not annoying like satoru where you run in circles. suguru makes you laugh from your belly, makes the hiccups catch in your throat as you double over. he’s always been like that, always known how to make laughter pour from your lips and trickle down your chin. it’s comforting to know he still knows how. it leaves a small amount of bitterness that he’s still able to make you feel like this. 

“by the way, next time you go shopping, take me with you,” he says casually, “i need to buy stuff for my hair. it’s growing.”

“you’ll finally see the sun just for your hair?” you gasp, “who knew that’s all it’d take?”

despite the playfulness in your words, there’s still shock. suguru is willingly stepping foot outside your house. he’s finally choosing to return to life after living like a recluse no matter how many times you and satoru have tried to beg him to get up and go somewhere. the most you can get out of him is a walk around the neighborhood before he goes back to wandering your home and hiding away in his room. 

suguru is returning to life, his life, and you can’t help but wonder where that leaves room for you.

“my hair is my charm,” he reasons, “wouldn’t you agree?”

there’s a smirk on his lips when he asks—it’s like he’s seventeen and teasing you again, giving you that unfairly flirty smile that used to make you stutter as a kid. back when you were hopelessly in love. back when it was you, suguru, and the world in your corner. back when you had dreams of your future, practically giggling as you planned it away in a notebook. 

suguru was always perfect like that, the kind of guy you could only dream about. he’s always been handsome—he’s always been the center of attention everywhere you went. you used to huff about it, about all the attention he managed to get from walking into a room alone. but then he’d smile, give you that tender look of his as he’d chuckle, and you’d be hopeless again. 

he shouldn’t have that effect on you anymore after over a decade. but he does. it’s cruel, the way the universe works. it’s like there’s a magnet that pushes you together no matter how far you try to go, still pulled by gravity straight into his awaiting eyes and devilish smile.

“i cut your hair off once, i can do it again,” you huff. he laughs, it’s good-natured and kind. 

“i was a bit heartbroken when i realized it was so short, i have to admit,” he says, “i didn’t look like me.”

“you looked good,” you say quietly, “i think you’d make anything work, to be honest.”

“yeah?” he grins, “any requests? i might consider it if it’s you.”

“oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, “how about shaving your head bald? let's see how much charm you have without all that hair.”

“i could charm you without the hair still, couldn’t i?” he winks. 

it’s unfair how he acts like normal. like a few months in your home undoes everything he’s ever committed, all the atrocities he’s caused. the way he flirts with you feels like you’re his again. the way he’s aged and changed feels like you’re meeting someone new. you don’t understand how suguru is so natural with that—with seamlessly falling back into a rhythm with you like nothing has changed at all.

deep down, you know that suguru is just moving on with his life. he’s making the most of what he can. he can’t die, satoru would never let him have a peaceful death after all this. he can’t go back to the way things used to be, whether that’s his sorcery days or his curse user days, and he certainly can’t start over. so he’s making do with what he has—which is very little in reality.

it’s you, your home, and the biweekly visits from satoru and occasionally shoko. so he weaves you seamlessly into his life and treats you with a sense of normalcy you can’t hope to treat him with. maybe it’s because suguru was actually able to move on after he left. 

it’s the part you hated him most for. for building a family with new people. for having two girls that he raised as daughters. for finding people to follow him and trust. suguru, after he walked away from everything he ever knew, actually did something with his life—even if it could hardly be considered good. 

you? you fell deeper and deeper into a pit of denial until clawing your way back out was too impossible, until you had to leave behind everything you’ve ever known to get away from the remnants of his existence. 

it’s easy for him to weave you back into his life because he chose to cut you loose. it feels damn near impossible to let him weave back into yours after he tore himself from the edges and frayed away. 

“don’t do that,” you sigh, making him frown.

“do what?”

“you know what, suguru,” you pinch your nose in frustration, “stop acting like things are normal.”

“things are definitely not normal,” he snorts bitterly, “i think needing your approval to take the trash out is not equal to normal.”

“then why are you acting like…” you trail off, unsure.

“like what?” he raises a brow. 

“like we never changed,” you slam your hands down on the couch in exasperation. 

he stares at you for a minute, blinks once, then twice, and then furrows his brows.

“well, of course we changed,” he mumbles in confusion, “i know that—”

you shouldn’t have said anything. you quickly realize that. suguru is not trying to act like things are normal—he’s trying to be civil, and you’re just a fool. a fool who looks too deeply into everything and assumes what you want to out of things and god, you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of your one and only ex-boyfriend in over a decade who was once dead and somehow came back to the land of the living.

of course, he knows things are not the same. he doesn’t want what you think he does. it’s been years and suguru has moved on—he had already moved on all those years ago, and you’re the only one here that is still focused on the past. and now he knows it too. 

you stand before he can finish, nodding as you stare down instead of meeting his eyes, pretending to adjust your clothes. 

“right, of course you do,” you nod, “i don’t know why i said that. just ignore me, i’ll be going to my room now. i have…things to do, so i’ll be—”

“hang on,” he frowns, hand grabbing your wrist, “i don’t mean it like that,” he says gently.

fuck geto suguru for being so confusing and fuck him for being nice about it too. 

“you can let go, suguru,” you pull at your wrist, “forget what i said, i wasn’t thinking—”

“i still feel the same,” he cuts you off, making your eyes widen, “if that’s what you mean. i never stopped.”

never stopped—that’s almost worse than moving on. how could he have felt the same all those years and still never come back?

“that does not help even a little,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “that makes this so much worse, do you see that?”

“i know,” he sighs, “i’m sor—”

“don’t say you’re sorry,” you grit your teeth, “we both know you’re not.”

“maybe not,” he admits, “i had to try. and that meant leaving—i’m sorry that’s not what you wanted.”

“it’s not!” you turn around, pulling your arm out of his grasp—suguru, for what it’s worth, takes the shove to his chest like a champ. “of course i didn’t want you to leave and kill a bunch of people and have an execution stamped on your forehead and live your life without me.”

“i know—”

“and now you’re back. back! in my house, eating my food and sleeping in my bed for half the night and i just have to act like this is normal. how is any of this normal?” 

“it’s not,” he agrees. he’s calm. so calm, it almost makes you mad. why is he so calm? “nothing about anything in our lives is normal. it never was.”

“you ruined my life,” you blink back tears. he smiles sadly, taking a step closer.

“i guess i can take the blame for that,” he nods, hands finding their way to your hips. against your better judgment, you lean half your weight against his body. this is bad, very bad—but it’s also the best thing ever. 

being close to suguru feels like the sun’s heat tearing through your skin—it’s warm. it’s pleasant. it leaves you parched and drained with a dry throat. but still, you need it to survive. 

“why did you come back?” you ask tiredly. his hand finds the small of your back, rubbing slow circles.

“i don’t know,” he hums, “i didn’t really get a say. maybe i was always meant to, who knows?”

you look at him at that—tilt your head to get a good look at his features. his eyes are more tired, and his cheeks are a bit more sunken in compared to the youthful flesh you remember him with. his hair isn’t as healthy, and his forehead has the slightest traces of pale marks from the scars. but he’s still suguru—and you have always loved suguru, even if he gives you every reason to hate him.

“you make my life unreasonably difficult,” you mutter.

he hums, smiling. “can i?” he asks breathlessly, pleadingly. you stare at his eyes, he stares at your lips. you know what he wants—but fuck, you can’t let him have it so easy. 

“can you what?” you ask, raising a brow slowly.

“are you really gonna make me say it?” he grunts, lips almost curled into a pout. it’s cute, the way he looks longingly at your lips—it’s so cute and beautiful and dangerous all at once, just like suguru. 

“yes,” you say, “yes i am. i deserve to hear it suguru, after everything you put me through. you…you left me. i wasn’t enough for you. i mourned you. i grieved a body i never even saw. do you know what that does to a person? to lose them not once but two times? the least you could do is tell me what you want,” your voice wavers just a little. 

it shakes for the lost time. for the moments you’ll never have. for the memories you lost. for the past that’s tainted. time is cruel like that. but that’s the beauty of it all—the fragility. it’s like sand falling through the cracks of your fingers, every grain slipping from your reach but still soft and soothing against your skin as it falls. everything fades over time, everything starts to hurt one way or another. but it stops. it heals. it starts over. the sand fills the cup of your palms again, warm and delicate and just as beautiful as before it crumbled. 

“can i kiss you?” he asks desperately, “please?”

“kissing me is not a temporary thing,” you shake your head, “not anymore. it’s for good. only for good.”

“i want to kiss you for good,” he nods, hands digging into your hips impatiently. you’re close. you’re too far. he can feel you, smell you, hear your unsteady breaths. but it’s not enough. he needs to devour you, taste you on his tongue, and melt you with his touch. “i won’t stop this time,” he promises. 

“you better not,” you sniffle, tears blurring your vision. you hated suguru for leaving you. you hated him for coming back to you like this. you never stopped loving him, never will stop loving him—and maybe that’s what love is. when the darkness is worth trekking through for the afterglow of the light. “if you fucking leave me again, you’re dead to me. i don’t care how many times you come back to life. you’re dead to me.”

“okay,” he agrees through a shaky chuckle, “i suppose i deserve that. let me kiss you, yeah?”

“yeah,” you breathe.

he kisses you—years too late, he kisses you. it feels like you’re teenagers again. it feels different and foreign. you know this feeling like the back of your hand. you don’t understand what this sensation is anymore. it’s new. it’s old. it’s perfect. it hurts. suguru is here. he promised not to leave—you don’t know if you believe him, but you’re going to trust that finally, for once, you are enough. 

you’re enough to make him happy. to give him a sense of purpose. to keep him swimming when his limbs start to sink. 

finally, for once, you’re enough. 

“i love you,” he whispers against your mouth, breathing the words into you like he’s offering you the air from his lungs, “i never stopped. i promise.”

“you don’t deserve to hear it from me,” you murmur back, panting against his lips, “not yet.”

“fair enough,” he chuckles, “you sure know how to leave a guy waiting.”

“i learned from the best,” you shoot back.

he grins—suguru smiles, heartfelt and real. life is full of misery, it’s painful, and nothing fucking makes sense. everything is cruel. everything dies no matter how carefully you water the roots. there’s always something, someone, ready to tear it from the earth. but if you keep planting the seeds, suguru will keep watering. 

maybe something kind can bloom from that, something big enough for him to hide under the shade when the scorching heat of tragedy becomes too much. 

in this world or in the jujutsu world; in this life or in the next. suguru is yours.

“why am i here?” he asks gently, his face digging into your neck. you hold him, cradling the back of his head as you hum. 

“because i need you here. will you stay?”

“yes,” he murmurs, “i think i’ll stay.”

hi. i have been working on this since march. its still not how i envisioned it to be originally but that's okay. i had fun writing it and it means a lot to me even tho its kind of. well....cliche LMAO like everything i write. but. i enjoy the cliches okay ?? i do. kxljchskdf hope u guys didn't hate it </3

also the fic banner is …. not the greatest. just ignore it ok

[imwritingthefout]

A mask of my own face

I love this photo it’s so silly :>

Summary:

reader is worried about ford and his recent... outbursts. they decide to check on him, but find him at the wrong time, or rather, they don't find him, but someone else in his body.

basically: reader gets fucked by bill cipher in ford's body and kinda likes it.

(the title is the song by lemon demon bc it fits)

Warnings: non con elements/ dubious consent, rough smut, p in v sex, some fluff at the end, a little angst but it’s fine in the end

also crossposted on ao3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ford was acting… different. More distant than usual, more…. Off-putting.

He always had a sort of off-kiltered charm in the way he interacted with you, always flipping between being overly confident in himself, and tripping over his own words at the sight of you. Like something in his brain didn’t compute that you were together, that you were his. You got used to this after a few months of dating the researcher, and it evened out for a bit… but now it seems he’s reverted back to his old ways, from before you started dating.

One second he would be holding you tight, saying how much he loved you and wanted you by his side for the rest of his life, but then the next he would push you away to go ‘meditate’ in his lab. He would stay there for hours, only coming up for more coffee. (and strangely enough, to shove forks into his hands when he thought you weren’t looking)

You decided that enough was enough when one evening you realised you hadn't seen him all day. He must've gotten up before you to go to his lab, and hadn’t come up since then.

You went on a search for him all around the house, hoping he wasn't in that god-forsaken lab, but it seems god wasn’t on your side.

When you found him, you saw him sitting hunched over at his desk, writing something down aggressively. You tried to gently touch his shoulder, but the movement caused him to jump so high up from his chair he almost hit the ceiling. You, of course, were startled by the sudden movement and took a step back from him.

He slowly turned to you and his face…. His eyes…. Something about them was wrong. Maybe it was the lack of sleep on his part or your worrying, but you could swear his eyes looked… off. They were slightly different than you remembered, but you decided to brush it off for the time being, more focused on talking some sense into your boyfriend.

“Hey ford? Can i… talk to you?” you said gently, trying not to frighten him again. He shook his head a bit, as if trying to shake off some grub from his face and turned to you with an annoyed look. “Not now, honey . Can’t you see I'm working?” He said the pet name with a mocking voice, as if he was making fun of you for thinking you’re more important than his work.

“I know you are, but you're starting to worry me… when was the last time you ate? Or drank water? Or even went to the bathroom?” you tried to push back the uncomfortable feeling threatening to overtake your words, your voice slightly shaking when you asked him the questions. 

“It doesn’t matter . All that matters is finishing this page” and with that he went back to his desk, sitting down and ignoring you as if you didn’t exist.

Now you were starting to get angry. “What do you mean it doesn’t matter? Your health is important! If you don't take care of yourself then you won’t live to see your progress come to fruition!” you put your hand on his shoulder again, more firmly this time. “I made you dinner. Now you’re going to come with me, eat dinner, drink some water and go to sleep. Do you understand?” you turned him around in his chair to look at you. He seemed to flip through several emotions before deciding on one. You didn't quite know what it was, but he was smiling, so you thought he might have finally come to his senses and decided to take a break.

You were only half right.

“You know what? You’re right, toots. I'll take a break, but only if i can take you too” he brought you onto his lap in one swift, strong motion and put his lips against your neck. The sudden movement made a chill run up your spine. You didn’t know if you were more turned on or worried, but ultimately decided that maybe this’ll help ground him and bring the ford you loved back.

You wrapped your hands around his neck and kissed him passionately. It took a moment for him to register what was happening until he kissed you back, hungrily kissing you and suddenly biting at your tongue. It wasn’t something you were used to, and it definitely surprised you, but it wasn’t unwelcomed.

You pulled away a little and he went back to attacking your neck with his lips and teeth, leaving various marks that made your breath hitch. His calloused hands started exploring your body as if it was his first time, awkwardly angling his fingers to touch every part of you from your ankles to your shoulders, and finally down to your breasts.

“God you’re mine now, aren’t you?” The question confused you, since you’ve been dating for a while now, but you decided to go along with it. Maybe it was a new kink of his “yes i’m all yours” you punctuate your point by gently scraping your nails down his chest and onto the waistband of his pants. He groaned at the feeling of your nails on him, his chest puffing up to meet your touch. You chuckle at his desperation. “So needy… you’ve missed me, haven't you?” you tease him lightly, but it didn’t affect him like it usually does. Instead he seems… unfazed “sure i have” he then picks you up and moves you so you’re lying chest down on his desk, and he’s behind you, pushing your middle down so your ass is up in the air for him.

He stands up and you can hear him opening his belt buckle behind you. He seems to be struggling, so you try to turn to him and help him, but he only pushes you down more. “Stupid.. Human… clothes… ugh” you hear him mumbling, but you can’t say anything when you suddenly feel his cold hands under your shirt, feeling you up. You moan under his touch, then hiss as he pinches your waist in an unpleasant way. 

“Hey-ah!” you try to scold him, but are interrupted by the feeling of cold air hitting your sensitive area. Ford has pulled down your pants and underwear, and is now angleing himself behind you. You moan as you feel him push himself against you, his chest flat against your back. It takes him a second to push himself inside you, but when he does, he fills you up immediately. 

You groan at the sharp pain mixed with the pleasure of having him inside you after so long without him. Before you register what's happening, he starts thrusting into you wildly, with no rhythm or consistency. You try your best not to moan, but it's hard when you feel him pushing into you in such a harsh way. 

He holds your hips firmly, trying to stop your squirming. “Come on- ah~ do the thing” you hear him grunting behind you. It feels so good, but the statement still confuses you through the fog of pleasure. What does he mean by ‘the thing’? Your train of thought is stopped when his hand travels to your throat, choking you a little. The sudden feeling of lightheadedness makes you even hornier. This doesn’t feel like something ford would do, but damn it turns you on.

His thrusts start to even out, he doesn't slow down but now they have more of a rhythm. With each one the desk starts to creak under you. It’s straight up animalistic the way he pounds into you, holding onto you like you’re his toy, only used for his pleasure. You feel him twitching inside you, getting close to his release. You clench around him the way you know he likes, and suddenly he cums inside of you. You feel the pleasure inside you come to a peak as he continues to thrust at the same pace, even though he just came. 

The pleasure quickly turns into overstimulation as he continues at his rough pace, not letting you go until he finishes inside you again. Your moans turn into screams as you can't even form a coherent thought. At this point you almost reach a second orgasm, but when he suddenly pulls out at you, you’re forced to come down from your high. You whine at the loss and turn around to see him with his hands up in shock, looking down at you guiltily. 

“What's wrong ford?” you look up at him with lustful eyes, wanting him to continue. 

“I.. uh- nothing is wrong! I'm sorry!” What is he apologising for? “It’s alright, but can you please continue?” now you were frustrated, hoping he would get the hint and continue fucking you. 

“Ye-yeah sure.. Of curse” he gently put his hands on your hips, almost hesitating before feeling you up. He gently runs his hand down your stomach and lands on your thigh, stabilising you before slowly entering you. You moan at the sudden change in him. “What has gotten into you- ah!” you moan as he softly circles your clit with his fingers while he starts thrusting into you. You put your hands around his neck and he buries his head in your chest. You hear him mumbling something but you can’t understand it. 

He starts pushing in and out of you gently, and the stark contrast from just a second ago makes you confused. What is with him today? You try to dwell on it, but when he starts kissing your chest, fondling your breast with his mouth, your thought process is cut short. 

Thanks to his expert fingers on your clit and his even thrusting, you go over the edge. You moan his name as you pull him up to kiss him. It all feels like too much as he stops moving, focusing on kissing you. He pulls out shortly after, taking his time now.

“Does this mean you’re gonna take a break? I think dinner is getting cold” you say softly, kissing his cheek.

“What? Oh yeah- yeah- of course honey” when he says the pet name this time, it feels genuine, like it just rolls off his tongue naturally. You look at him, and find his familiar eyes looking back into yours- slightly confused but loving and caring. This is your ford. The one you fell in love with.

You try to pull yourself off the desk but your legs start wobbling, so ford takes you by the waist and guides you up the stairs. “I’m sorry” he apologises once again, but you reach up to stroke his cheek “it’s alright, i kind of… liked it”

You see a flicker of something dangerous in his eye before it switches to looking terrified, then concerned. “Well.. I'm glad you liked it, but I don't know what came over me. I’m still sorry if i hurt you, my dear” you thought he might be hiding something from you, but that was a discussion for another day. For now, you got your old ford back, and that’s all that matters.

“It’s.. alright. Just give me a warning next time. Jeez” you laugh a little, and you see he starts to relax against you. 

“Yeah.. i’ll try” he seems to be lost in thought, but as you enter the kitchen and he sees the dinner you made him, he suddenly loses his train of thought and looks at you like you just brought him the moon. 

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you so much! I'm starving!” he picks you up and kisses you, slightly wincing as he feels his muscles tense up after not being in use for who knows how long. He lets go of you and you both go to eat. You’ll have to talk to him sometime soon about your worries, but you stop yourself when you see the look he gives you; full of love and adoration, like you’re the sun to his earth. You decide to confront him another day. You wouldn’t want to ruin a perfect dinner, would you?

[jishyucks]

⋆.˚ on a whim — ldh ˚.⋆

‣ pairing: haechan x reader

‣ genre: friends-to-lovers?, fluff

‣ wc: 1.06k

‣ summary: ❝What if… what if I kissed you?❞; alternatively, you impulsively suggest to be your best friend's first kiss

‣ warnings: I wouldn't say it's steamy at the end but it's like,,, sorta detailed

‣ an: this is bc hyuck in glasses makes me want to do backflips (this is literally self-indulgent)

“I’m almost done with this assignment and then after we can watch a movie, sound good to you?” 

You scribbled down a few words, waiting for Donghyuck to respond to your question, but you were returned with a half-assed hum. This catches your attention, mainly because it wasn’t like Donghyuck to be disinterested in a movie. He said once that movie nights were his favourite nights. 

“Hyuck?” you shift your attention from your work to your best friend, brows knitting together. 

Donghyuck’s lying on your bed, eyes looking straight up to the ceiling with an empty expression. You don’t even think he’s blinking. 

“Hyuck.” Your voice is firm, trying to catch his attention. You can’t even see him blinking through his glasses, lips falling into a pout.

“Lee Donghyuck!” 

You finally catch his attention, though all he does is turn his head in your direction, “Yeah? Sorry… I zoned out.” He sits up on your bed, crossing his legs underneath him. 

“I was saying how I’ll just finish this assignment and then we can go on with movie night,” you repeat, “Are you okay? Still up for it?” Your head tilts to the side and Donghyuck has to look away before you cause his heart to arrest. 

“Of course I am, I just…” He bites his bottom lip and blinks at the wheels of your chair.

“Is this about what my friends said earlier?” You frown. In all honesty, you didn’t even want to talk about it because you know your anger issues are going to take over. When Donghyuck fails to give you a reply, you follow the question up, “It is, isn’t it?”

“My feelings are valid,” he retorts stiffly, falling back onto his back, “I know I’m pathetic for not even getting my first fucking kiss at this age but—”

“You’re not pathetic, Hyuck,” you interrupt, angry at how he was putting himself down for something so ridiculous, “Don’t say that. Everyone lives life at their own pace.” You throw a soft punch at his knee and he yelps despite it not hurting. 

“I know, you’ve told me that before, but when it’s pointed out, I see why it’s stupid,” he goes on, “Like not one person has brought themselves to want to kiss me? How pathetic is that?”

Trains of thought begin running through your head and you let the question hang in the air for too long. Far too long that this makes Donghyuck nervous, “You could at least say that it is pathetic instead of not saying any–”

“What if… what if I kissed you?” 

Donghyuck shoots up, “What?”

“What if I kissed you.” You say more confidently, “Then you could say that you kissed someone.”

Donghyuck’s chewing on his lip now, unsure whether or not this would be a good idea, “You’d do that?... Would that even count?” 

“I’ll count it if you do…” You say, “Besides, if you’re okay with it, and I’m okay with it, it counts.” Your legs scooches your chair closer to Donghyuck, almost as if anticipating his answer. 

If Donghyuck was being honest, he liked the idea. It’s not like he’s been waiting for this for the longest time, no… he just thought it was a good idea. And it was you he was going to kiss for god’s sake. He trusted you, he cared about you, he wouldn’t mind if his first kiss was you. Hell, he wanted his first kiss to be you, “Okay.”

You scoot closer so that your knees touch his, “Go whenever you’re ready.”

“O-okay,” Donghyuck’s taken aback by how straight forward you’re being. He nods once and shifts forward in place, leaning forward to bring his face closer to yours, “Okay, I’ll do it now.” 

You can feel his warm breath on your face and it somehow sends you shivers down your neck. The proximity between the two of you is small. It felt like he was doing it on purpose to tease you and you were tempted to be the one who closed the gap between the two of you. 

Donghyuck comes closer and you’re ready to close your eyes, but then he pulls away, “Shit, s-sorry.” He apologizes, “I’m fucking this up, aren’t I?” A frown grows on his lips, worried that he was actually making it awkward between the two of you, just because of a kiss, “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

You nod, “I’m the one who suggested it, Hyuck.” 

He huffs and nods again. He starts closing in on you. His hands instinctively reach up to grab your face, and at that point you know he’s going to commit to it. Just like earlier, you feel his breath tickle your lips, and before you know it, Donghyuck’s plush lips are pressed up against yours. 

Donghyuck holds back a gasp, holding his lips to yours. For a moment, he’s afraid he’s doing it wrong, unsure whether or not he’s moving his lips correctly, but the second you begin kissing back, hands finding the back of his neck in hopes of finding something to hold onto, a sense of relief washes over him. 

He pulls away to breathe before pushing his mouth back onto yours. The kiss was deep, that was for sure, something he didn’t expect to happen. When you suggested a kiss, he thought you meant something along the lines of a ‘one-two’ and done, not this. But he didn’t mind it. And it seemed like you didn’t either.

In fact, he likes the feeling. There’s a warm feeling growing in his chest the longer the kiss lasts and he couldn’t get enough of it. 

So this was why people did it so often. It felt good.

Donghyuck’s arms slither around your figure, bringing his hands to your back. Then he pulls you closer. And again, you don’t mind. 

And just as he feels your tongue tapping gently on his lips to let him in, Donghyuck feels something sharp scratch the bridge of his nose and it doesn’t take him long to realize that his glasses were getting in the way of everything. 

He pulls back, groaning, out of breath before he rips them off of his face—because, no, he doesn’t care if he can’t see your face. All he wants to do is kiss you. 

“Fuck it,” he mutters before he smashes his lips back onto yours. 

[cvnt4him]

This came to me at 12:00 am

Izuku struggling to tie his tie and asks his friend/girlfriend/wife (whichever) to tie it for him, and so y/n does, while he just looks at her with so much love in his eyes. Basically fluff :)

You got it candie<33

You were finishing up your look, trying it all together with a bold red lipstick. You blow yourself a kiss in the mirror before being interrupted by the sound of groaning. You turn around and peep out of the bathroom to see a very annoyed and pouty midoriya.

You can't help but chuckle to yourself, he was so adorable. All angry n stuff bc he could t figure out how to... Tie his tie. He was never really good at tying ties. Back in highschool it was NEVER tied correctly. For the most part because he never learned how to tie a tie.

“ zuku, are you alright there bud?”

He huffs annoyed, crossing his arms with a pouty on his lips. His brows were furrowed and he hummed in annoyance, he was so angry with the fact he couldn't tie the tie. It was just too adorable.

“ no.. this stupid tie won't tie n’ I forgot how to tie it..”

“ baby what?”

You laugh out, his eyes turned to your figure, they soon then widened you looked so gorgeous in that outfit. He couldn't believe he got to see you like this. He gulped absentmindedly and felt his cheeks warming up, realizing what you'd just called him. You were always affectionate and he was completely okay with it, but the closer you two got as friends the more you started calling him things like "babe" and "baby" or "sweetheart" and stuff.

It tended to mess with his brain. Had you liked him? Did you want to be with him? If so for how long have you had feelings for him? Did he have feelings for you? So many things would run through his mind, he just didn't know how to act when you spoke to him and called him such names.

“ c’mere, lemme fix it, hm?”

You say to him, motioning him to "come" with your hands. With a sigh izuku follows your command defeatedly, he drags his feet on the ground as he slowly shuffles his way to you with his shoulders drooping. He was so disappointed in himself it showed all over his face.

Once he's finally in front of you you look up to him with a small grin. A pout still present on his adorable face. You dust his shoulders off of any wrinkles and mayhaps lint, your hands find themselves on the back of his neck making him look at you. He gulped down, what were you doing... Why were you touching him like this....

Why were you making his cheeks warm up. He felt so.. weird. Not in a bad way just in a... weird way.

“ y/n... what're you..— ”

“ huh- oh sorry, you had like some fuzz in your hair! Haha!”

You say as you show him the piece of fuzz you found in the back of his hair. How did you even see that? Why was he so... disappointed? Huh..

You smiled at him before fixing his tie, you undid whatever horrible knot he put into it and began to fix it. You straightened it out before tying it quite well making sure it's not too tight to where it was choking him but just tight enough to be straight and presentable.

“ how did you even do this izuku! Haha! It's so bad!”

“ h- hey! Give me a break alright!? I've never learned how to tie a tie.”

He was so flustered he just didn't know how to react. His cheeks were burning hot and he couldn't even face you. You just looked so beautiful it was overwhelming him.

“ hey. look at me, what's going on, hm? getting scared to see everyone?”

You were both getting ready to attend your highschool reunion. You'd see all of your old friends, those you used to work with etcetera, you had mixed emotions to say the least but at least you'd be there with izuku.

“ uh yeah- yeah I'm fine. how uhm, are you?”

You were still extremely close to him despite already having tied his tie. You two were just looking at each other and making a quick swift conversation before you'd have to go. To be honest he didn't really want to go. He just wanted to stay with you and maybe watch a movie, like you two normally do.

“ I'm good, yeah.”

“ that's uh.. good.”

“ mhm.”

Izuku couldn't tear his eyes away from you. They searched and roamed your entire body not leaving a single inch of you left unseen, you were gorgeous and he wanted to tell you, he just didn't want you to think he was weird. He was praying he wasn't misreading this moment, but he could've sworn it was like you were moving closer to him.

Your eyes were just staring right into his, he didn't know how to react. Subconsciously his hand trailed up your side, making you jump slightly and push yourself into him. His breath had stuttered slightly, his eyes licking onto yours and becoming lidded. He gripped your side lightly pulling you closer to him.

“ thank you....for uh.. y'know. the tie.”

“ yeah uh no problem...”

Izuku seemed to be getting much much closer to you, so much so that your foreheads were pressed together, you could feel his shaky breath fanning your face. He moved his face lower, your noses brushing against each other. You moved back slightly only for izuku to follow you your lips were so close to touching...

So close, izuku wanted to kiss you so badly. Every fiber in his body was screaming at him to just kiss you. But he wanted you to want it, he wanted you to want him.

“ izuku...”

Just as he was about to finally put his lips against yours, his phone rings in his back pocket making him jump forward and head butt you. You nearly fell to the floor, you both groaned in pain before he apologized profusely and grabbed his phone from his back pocket.

“ I am s- so so sorry y/n... It's uh.. kacchan. Id better take this..”

He smiled awkwardly before taking it outside. That was so awkward, now you'll never be able to look at him the same.. goodness.

AN: the ending was rushed so erm yeah

[traumxrei-archive]

【 shared breaths, beating hearts 】

prompt #7: They were hiding from the teachers/others and it’s very close quarters in here, he could feel their body against his (ft. ruggie bucchi, azul ashengrotto, rook hunt, jade leech)

gn! prefect (you/yours), drabbles, word count: 1.4k

a/n: hello. i’m back at it. bc i’m determined to finish these asap. also bc it’s nice to write something short n sweet in between the other longer stuff i’m currently writing. enjoy ^^

Ruggie Bucchi

"Ruggie, what—!"

"Shh!" Ruggie pressed a palm against your mouth, his heart thudding in his chest. He had finally lost the mob of angry students a few turns back, and you just happened to be the lone person in the hallway.

So what did he do? Well, he dragged you into the storage closet with him.

"If ya keep quiet, I'll tell you what's happening," Ruggie whispered into the space between you two. Thinking about it now, this storage closet was quite cramped...

"Those students were...a little mad that I got the last sandwich for Leona-san," Ruggie swallowed, trying to ignore the fact that you were practically pressed against him.

Your hand grabbed at his lapel, "You used Laugh With Me?"

"Shishishi~ You know me too well," Ruggie could see your glower and he pouted. "I didn't steal it. I just stopped them from getting to the sandwich before I did." You sighed, and Ruggie swallowed as he felt your breath hitting his neck.

That was the exact moment that you leaned forward, your head landing on his shoulder.

Ruggie felt his heartbeat against his throat when he spoke, "W-What...what are you–?"

"I'm leaning on you."

"Yes, but," Ruggie felt your arms snaking around his waist, making his fur stand on end. "No, I meant why?"

"If we're going to be stuck here, I want to be comfortable," You grumbled and Ruggie felt himself stiffen again as you hugged him tighter.

He...really brought this upon himself. So he can't technically be mad, per se, but it was still dangerous. He just hoped that you wouldn't be able to hear the way his heart was beating like crazy.

Ruggie rested his chin on your head. Well…this wasn’t that bad either. If he had the excuse to hug you like this, feeling your warmth seeping right into his bones, then he would definitely milk the moment for all it was worth. After all, there was no place in the world he would rather be than your arms.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul was in trouble. And this time he didn’t have a convenient scapegoat to blame for his headache. Rather, he caused this problem all on his own. How else could he explain the fact that he was hiding underneath a grand piano with his…crush?

“Uh, Azul?” You whispered, and he stifled a gasp. It served as a reminder of how little space there was under here. For such a big piano, you would think that there would be more space. “Why are we hiding?"

“I…”

Why were they hiding? Long story short, Azul had been caught playing the piano by you. And then he heard the twins coming down the hallway. And then he panicked, pushing the tarp over the piano and dragging you under with him. The normal Azul wouldn’t have panicked. He would have put the piano away before the twins could see, and all would be well.

But there was nothing normal about how hard his heart was beating right now.

“The twins always tease me whenever they catch me playing,” It was an excuse that he was pulling out of his ass, but it was better than admitting ‘your presence startled me enough that I lost my cool’.

He fought not to flinch when your hand suddenly landed on top of his, “Oh, I’m sorry, I… I just wanted to say that you shouldn’t be ashamed, your playing was amazing.”

If he didn’t die from the mortification he would feel if the twins found him hiding underneath a piano with you, then he would certainly die from the sweetness of your words. Coupled with the fact that he could see the smile on your face, it was a lethal combination. He hated how weak he was to you.

“Huh. I never noticed how blue your eyes were,” You said, as if you just made a passing comment on the weather.

Oh Sevens, take him now. Azul would not last another five minutes with you.

Rook Hunt

Rook had hid in his fair share of bushes in his life. It was a given, especially when he was out hunting. Natural cover was the best cover, after all. Yet the usually comfortable position felt slightly…different right now.

Especially with the fact that you were under him. Pressed against the autumn leaves like this, you looked absolutely brilliant. He wished that he could capture this moment and keep it forever. And if he wasn’t trying to be quiet he would’ve told you all that and more.

“Rook, what’s— what’s happening?” Oh, you seemed afraid, your fingers digging into the fabric of his sleeve. He reached out, pressing gloved fingers against the furrow of your brow.

“Mon cher, do not fret,” Rook consoled. “C’est simplement. It is just a passing deer. Take a look to the side.” You turned your head, the hesitation melting into a look of wonder as you spotted the deer grazing not too far way from the two of you.

“Woah, that’s…that’s beautiful!” You exclaimed in hushed tones. His cheeks almost hurt from how much he was smiling around you.

“Hmm, c’est vraiment,” Rook murmured, his eyes all but pinned on the way the leaves seemed to cast shadows over your face in what he would say was a hypnotizing pattern. “Deer startle very easily, so we should keep quiet.”

You nodded eagerly, “I’m glad you asked me to take this walk with you.”

Rook almost wanted to echo your sentiment. He wasn’t one to shy away from expressing his absolute infatuation toward you, but it felt very different when you were just a mere few centimeters away from him. He could almost feel the redness like a thick second skin around his cheeks and neck.

“Let’s just…stay here for a while,” Rook said instead. “To watch the deer.” It was a baldfaced lie on his part, but if it meant that he could spend a few more moments here with you…a little white lie wouldn’t hurt.

Jade Leech

"Jade Leech."

"Ahem. Yes?"

"Could you please explain why I'm—"

"Shh," Jade leaned in a little closer, relishing in the way your shoulders jumped. Really, he didn't mean to orchestrate this situation. He was running away from one of Crewel's lectures about spore safety. (He had basically internalized Crewel’s monologue by now.)

But well, who was he to refuse the chance to tease you?

That was why he shifted closer, much closer than necessary as he continued, "If I don't come closer, Crewel will surely discover us."

"But why are we hiding in the first place," You hissed, grabbing at his wrist.

"I may have...accidentally grew some mushrooms in the flower bed he was saving for class—"

"Accidentally my ass," You grumbled, though you didn't try to push him away again. Instead, you stilled, and he could appreciate the way a cut of sunlight danced against your skin. He could practically see the flush overtake your face as he kept staring. He knew that you noticed.

Another idea popped into his head.

Jade opened his mouth, “If I may, what if you—“

“I swear to the Seven if you propose that I sit on your lap, I’ll—!” You fought for your words a bit. “I’ll actually bite you!”

“My,” Jade couldn’t help the surprised expression, a slow smile growing on his face at your provocative words. You never ceased to amuse him, with your expressions, your behaviors, and your words. He just wanted to see more and more of your reactions. Maybe that was why he was so very fond of you.

“I would never suggest something so…risque. And biting me?” He could see you gulp as he leaned that much closer, his forehead almost touching yours, “Are you prepared to face the consequences of suggesting such a thing?"

thank you for reading ! this is a part of my (very long overdue) 600 followers event ++ if you’d like to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist >:D

[hoejosatoru]

Skill Set -Tokyo Rev Men

What body part (hands, mouth, cock) Tokyo Rev men (+Yahuza and Senju) are best with. All characters post timeskip. Yes I reused the blurbs from my haikyu version of this there’s only so many ways to generically describe sex acts so it applies to multiple characters lmfao.

Can finger you like no one else. One of the few men who has not lost the fine art of fingering. His fingers are long and slender but so strong. His hands are rough and scarred from years of getting into fights, but it feels so good. He finds your g spot easily, pressing into it until you’re soaked and needy. “Hmm, you like when I touch you like that, angel?” He toys with your clit until you’re right at the edge before plunging his fingers back into your throbbing pussy. Loves how easy it is to tease you like that. How fully in control he is over your pleasure with just a few touches. It’s such an ordinary part of the body, the hands, and yet his can pull the sweetest moans out of you like it’s nothing. “Go on and cum all over my fingers, baby. Wanna feel you squeeze ‘em real good.” Will literally play with your pussy for hours and absolutely will.

Takemichi (I think he was intimidated by sex stuff, but fingering felt approachable so he just did that a ton & got good at it), Mitsuya (so good with his hands & makes it feel so romantic), Kisaki (he is a nasty little tease with it. Love the power imbalance of you being fully naked while he’s clothed and touching you), Takeomi (loves making you watch in front of a mirror, big into pussy slaps), Hakkai, Angry, Koko (a tease, but like its fun), Naoto

Loves eating pussy so much. Does it for his own pleasure as much as yours. Does it in all different positions - missionary, face sitting, from the back. Literally doesn’t care as long as he gets to eat you out. He presses his tongue into your tight hole, wiggling the warm, soft muscle inside you. “Mmm, tastes so fucking sweet.” Sucks on your clit until you’re squirming away from him. But don’t think you’re going anywhere. He’ll grip your hips tight, flicking his tongue over your aching clit until you’re gasping and shaking. He loves when you get lost in it, rutting your pussy against his tongue. “Yeah, baby, fuck my tongue just like that.” He’s not happy until his face is covered in your slick cum.

Shinichiro (please sit on this mans face he wants, no needs, to feel your thighs squeezing his face), Kauztora (so needy about it, loves knowing he makes you feel good. Regularly cums himself when eating you out), Smiley, Wakasa (he is so good but is a such tease. Makes you beg for it & then will eat you out until you’re begging him to stop bc you're so sensitive), Izana (also a tease, loves edging you like crazy until you’re practically in tears begging, then makes you cum w the littlest flick of his tongue), Yahuza (she knows what the fuck she is doing!)

Gives the best dick. He’s nice and big, making your pussy stretch pleasurable every time. He knows exactly where to angle himself to get you seeing stars. Loves pressing your knees up to your chest and getting himself so deep inside you. “Feel that baby? Feel me in your tummy?” A weaker man would bust when he felt your pussy squeezing him like a vice, but he has unrivaled restraint. He knows how to perfectly work you up with, slow, long thrusts, then finishes you off fast and hard snaps of his hips. He’s so strong and can put the most delicious weight behind each pounding thrust. “Fuck princess, feel so good cumming on my cock.” Expect to go multiple rounds.

Taiju (the breading kink goes crazy on this one I fear), South (actually takes it kinda slow w you bc he’s massive and he knows it), Mucho, Benkei, Baji (he is a a huge doggy style enjoyer), Mochi, Shion (nasty with it), Rindou (I feel like rindou is just fucking slinging dick like idk how else to put it. Also I feel like he has a really nice dick overall.), Sanzu (loves making you ride him and then ends up fucking up into you), Chifu (he’s the type you don’t expect much from bc he’s small but then you can barely walk the next day), Senju (ok ik she doesn’t have a dick but she DOES have a strap and is so good with it. Also will scissor you so good so she deserves to be here)

BONUS - The men who can literally do it all. Can finger you senseless, will eat your pussy for hours, and will fuck you until you can barely walk. All above applies to them

Draken (idc if I’m being bias but Draken can fuck like no other. He’s such a nice, big cock, loves having you sit on his face, and his are so rough and warm and god I need him!), Ran (he’s a SLUT), Inui (he just has so much sex appeal like? There’s just something about him that I just KNOW he’s so good a pleasuring), Kakucho (Kind of a dark horse, but he’s so, so attentive to his partner. Really good at adapting to exactly what makes you feel good), Hanma (again, slut. He makes you beg for everything and is kinda a meanie, but worth it), Mikey (I think different timeline versions of Mikey may be stronger in different areas but overall I think Mikey has solid skills across the board. Also is v good at being Dom and sub, so it keeps things interesting)

[under-the-dirt]

Can we get a fic where y/n & ghost , soap & gaz are in the living area drinking & prices plaything/gf storms out his room because "you were inside me & called out y/n name" like imagine the shock on the team's faces and price fumbling to explain himself I feel like this could be a couple parts.. 😭

ok first of all so so so so sorry it took forever to do this!! i’ve been struggling with quite a few things including depression and sexual harassment/assault and it’s been a lot!! a reminder, nobody request non-con!!! please i hate it sm. anyways, i was super excited to write this bc i’m a price gallie part two is right here! :3

pairing: price x gn!reader

tags: mentions of sex, military inaccuracies, price is so sexy, mentions of alcohol, masturbation, soap and reader r friends.. UNDER 13 DNI!!!!! I WILL BLOCK U!

It was a calmer day in the TaskForce, everyone back from their missions and just wanting to relax. What better way to do so than letting your worried drift away in an alcohol-fueled haze?

You sat on the couch in the common room, casually sipping some beer with the others. Gaz was telling some story about him and Soap’s mission. You were giggling and laughing, slight blush on your face as your 3rd bottle began to soak into you, clouding your brain. Price was sat in an armchair, manspreading as always, taking slow sips of his whiskey between drags of his cigar. You always found those habits sexy, albeit unhealthy but the way he blew the smoke towards your face when you giggled or made fun of him was just so hot..

Your fun was interrupted by a squeaky girl running into the room and grabbing Price’s shirt. He huffed and put his cigar and glass down, staring up at the fuming girl with confusion.

“What was that last night?!”She screams, practically an angry squeal, and John just shakes his head. “What do you mean?! Last night!”

“Can you stop yelling? I really can’t deal with it right now,” You say softly, slightly annoyed. This girl was the barracks bunny, everyone knew. She was a little whore, running room to room and projecting pornographic moans across the base. All of you hated her, except for those desperate for a quick fleshlight, no strings attached.

“Oh so this is her?” The woman yells, turning to you and grabbing your shirt, pulling you up and onto the floor. You spill your beer on your shirt and sigh.

“Shit- That was the last good one.”

The woman climbs on top of you and slaps you, and price quickly grabs her and pulls her away. He helps you up and stands in front of you.

“What the hell was tha’?!” He yells, staring down at the woman.

“Last night you said her name, not mine!” She yells squeakily, glaring at him.

“So? You’re jus’ a lil’ whore, no strings attached, thas’ right?”

“B-but- You went to me so often!!���

“No strings attached,” He growls, pointing to door for her to leave. She huffs and pouts, running off with her tail between her legs. “I’m sorry, love,” John coos, walking off and grabbing a towel to clean your shirt. He sighs, walking back to you and handing you the towel.

“No use, that bottle was practically full,” You say, taking off your shirt and cleaning the beer off your wet chest. Price gapes for a moment before returning to his seat and taking a long drag of his cigar. After cleaning yourself up, you plop back down onto a clean part of the couch.

“So.. Cap’n, you wanna explain t’ us wha’ your pre’y plaything was talkin’ about?” Soap asks, a confident smirk on his face. Price blushes and clears his throat, feeling like a little schoolgirl.

“She’s just talkin’ crazy,” He chuckles. “Welp, I’m gonna hit the hay..” He pats his knees as he hops up and walks out, and Soap stares at you.

“Suspicious?” You ask, meeting his gaze.

“Suspicious,” He confirms, and you laugh, hopping up to go to bed as well. You grab your wet shirt and head off to your room.

In your bed, all you could think about was what she said.. Does Price think about you? Does he finish to the thought of you? The thought invoked a familiar warmth between your legs, which you had no choice but to indulge, moaning Price’s name softly…

okay ermmmmmmmm i might turn this into a little series 🤑 ty ty ty anon and tysm for your patience!! it took a while to convince myself to write this <33 also super sorryz that this one’s extra short i have no motivation to write longer but i’ll work on it <3

[helenabuu32]

My first hc post officially has 100 notes 🥹

To celebrate……

Anotha one.

Bucci Squad when their crush or S/O gets badly hurt during a mission!

Bucciarati:

RIP to the one who has awoken mama bear

Without hesitation will use Sticky Fingers to safely tuck you away from danger until the threat is taken care of.

Depending on how severe the injury is, he’ll send another member in the zipper dimension with you to make sure you’re okay. If it’s life threatening, he’ll make Giorno heal you there.

Once you’re somewhere safe, it’s go time. There’s no holding back and the rest of the team is actually a little shocked (or scared) of his lack of composure when going after the one who hurt you.

He will accept help from the others if he needs it, he doesn’t care as long as the person gets fucked up. He will however insist on on delivering the finishing blow

Will probably deliver a really emotional speech about “those who dare harm the one he loves” (he’ll do this whether you’re dating or not bc ur prob unconcious anyway so it won’t really be a confession lmfao) as he proceeds to zipper their entire body apart and rip the pieces to shreds

Once the battle is over, he’s taking you home and not leaving your side until you’re better. If you’re dating he’ll make sure there’s always a fresh red rose by your bedside ❤️

Mista:

Did someone order a side of Swiss cheese?Because that’s what Mista is about to turn this person into.

He will throw himself in front of you and order one of the others to get you the hell out of there. He doesn’t care if he gets hit with an attack as long as you’re not getting hurt anymore.

The Sex Pistols are ANGRY. 5 is crying and wants to go to you, but knows Mista needs every bit of help he can get. They’re going absolutely nuts helping to riddle your attacker with bullets nonstop. Some of them are even trying to cling onto them and straight up bite chunks out of their body.

Mista will want to take care of this person himself but if he can’t handle it on his own, he’ll reluctantly let the others assist him. At the end of the day he doesn’t really care as long as he gets some (MANY) good shots in and this person is no more.

Once the fight is over, he’s sprinting to your side to assess the damage. Putting pressure on any wounds, he’ll take his shirt off to make a pillow for your head. Hell even rip it to shreds if you need bandages he doesn’t care.

If there’s a lot of damage, he’ll ask Giorno to help. He’s not letting you die on him.

Once you’re back home or somewhere safe, he’s doing everything he can to take care of you and help you. Any time you need food or water or a change of bandages, he’s the one who’s going to get it. Other than that, he never leaves your side until you’re better.

Abbachio:

This person is definitely gonna regret laying a finger on you.

He scoops you up and brings you somewhere safe while he’s yelling at the others to give them everything they’ve got.

If your life is in danger, he will put his hatred for Giorno aside and start begging him to come and heal you. He’s so desperate that the others are kind of shocked. They never realized you meant so much to him.

Depending on the enemy stand users abilities, he knows he and his own stand may be no match for them. If that’s the case, all he asks is that the others leave them alive so he can finish them off….

Once that has been done and he knows you’re going to be okay, he’ll demand that the others stay with you while he “takes care of things.”

He doesn’t even wanna use Moody Blues. In fact, he’s called his stand back in. If there’s anything laying around like a crowbar, a plank of wood, something that can do damage, he’ll grab it. If not, being the strongest of the group physically, he has no problem using his fists.

The others will watch from afar as Leone makes this person unrecognizable as human. This person is literally begging and pleading for mercy, but Abbacchio doesn’t intend on stopping. Even when they’re long dead, he just keeps going until they’re a bloody pulp.

He’ll walk back to you and the group, covered in the blood of the enemy and tell everyone to back off. He carries you the whole way back to whenever you’re staying. If you’re dating, he’ll just hold you and silently cry when you’re away from the others as he tells you how much he loves you and never wants to lose you.

Narancia:

Lol the others should run

No actually. He’s telling the rest of the Bucci gang to take you, make sure you’re okay, and run. FAR. Away.

He’s literally screaming at this person as he uses Aerosmith to just unleash everything it has. If there’s cars or anything around that he can use to set a fire, the whole area will be set ablaze within minutes.

Once he knows it’ll finish them off for good, Narancia will drop Aerosmith’s bomb and absolutely destroy everything in the vicinity. He doesn’t even care if he hurts himself at this point.

When the deed is finally done, he’s rushing to you and the others, tears running down his face yelling and making sure you are/are going to be okay.

Once you’re all back home, Narancia is constantly bringing you snacks and drinks and feeding them to you. He’ll set his boombox up in your room and let you ply all your favourite songs to help brighten the mood. He acts cheery to put a smile on your face, but this boy is honestly traumatized after watching you get hurt like that.

If you’re not dating, he feels like he literally needs to guard your room at night. He has this irrational fear that someone else will break in to try to finish you off. If you’re in a relationship, he sleeps with you every single night, waking up every half hour/an hour because he’s so worried something will happen.

Will pick you flowers he found (they’re actually weeds lol) outside because he knows how much you like them

Giorno

Uh yeah so he’s definitely about to prove he’s his fathers son here

He’s calm. Like SCARY calm. The others have never seen him act this way before and it’s freaking them out.

He’ll heal any wounds that need to be tended to immediately, then ask the others to take you somewhere you’ll be safer

He never once loses his composure. In fact, the others think they can see him….smiling???

His goal now is to use Gold Experience to make this person regret they were ever born. The enemy won’t even notice the strategically placed roots he’s been sprouting from the ground until it’s too late…

Once the enemy is where Giorno wants him, the others will watch this person slowly. SO slowly. Get impaled all over with thin tree branches. Giorno makes sure this person stays alive for a long time. Once he’s ready to finish the job, he will make the tree grow fully through their body, completely tearing them apart.

The others jaws are on the floor as they watch Giorno walk back over to them, the scene behind him looking like a gory horror movie. Most of them are a little scared of him right now but Abbacchio actually managed to grow a sliver of respect for him, strangely enough.

Upon seeing you, he goes back to his normal, kind self. When you get home, he will care for you until you’re better. If you’re dating, he’ll hold you tightly as he tells you how much he loves you and will never let anyone hurt you like that again.

Fugo

So he actually almost kills everyone out of complete, uncontrollable rage

He’s so angry he honestly doesn’t even check on you before going nuts on this person. The others, realizing they can’t stop him and would definitely die trying, get you to safety and take care of any injuries that may need immediate attention.

Fugo honestly almost gets himself killed with his own stand. But he doesn’t care, because at the end of the day, the person who hurt you is gone and boy did they suffer greatly

He finally calls Purple Haze back in, realizing how reckless he was being in his emotional state. He feels ashamed, but couldn’t help himself when he saw you laying there, crumpled up in pain on the ground.

When you get back, he’s actually avoiding you at first. When he finally comes to see you, he explodes. “What the Hell were you thinking??? Are you stupid, throwing yourself in the middle like that to blindly defend everyone? You could’ve gotten yourself KILLED. I almost LOST YOU.”

…if you weren’t dating already, that was pretty much his confession of his feelings for you. If you are in a relationship, he’ll finally let his guard down and just weep. You actually have to comfort him at first. He just keeps repeating how much he loves you and can’t ever lose you. He’s saying he’s sorry over and over again. Sorry for letting you get that hurt, sorry for almost hurting the others. He’s just sorry. And he swears to protect you and work on being more calm in those situations.

I’ll be adding one for Trish later as I was having a hard time thinking of a good amount of hcs for her and I’ve had this in my drafts so long that I just really wanna get it out there! I hope you guys liked this one, and again, always feel free to send in a request for some hcs from me! :)

Love: your friendly neighborhood Abbacchio simp 😌

[mothandpidgeon]

Aunt Flo's First Visit [pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader]

MASTERLIST - follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

Pairing: pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: After Sarah gets her first period, Joel is determined to be a supportive parent despite the fact that he doesn't know the first thing about menstruation. But when he goes to the pharmacy to shop for supplies, he finds himself in way over his head.

Words: 2k

Rating: G

Warnings: period stuff and everything that comes with it

a/n: This is really fluffy and a little silly. I saw a tik tok by a menstrual product company about a customer trying to find the right thing for his daughter and it just gave me such Joel energy this happened. I haven't finished any fic in MONTHS because I'm working on my book and that's not finished either so it feels really good to complete something. (If you want to keep up with my publishing journey, I'm mainly documenting it here.) Please enjoy.

Also, I challenged myself to write in present tense bc I never do and I really was struggling so pretend the grammar is all correct. Thank you.

Joel knows how to do a lot of things. He can manage a crew, change a flat tire, and build just about anything. He never considered himself smart by the classical definition but he knows how to make a car battery from scratch despite the fact that he got a C in chemistry. 

If somebody had told him a decade ago that he’d one day be paralyzed with fear in the feminine hygiene aisle, he would’ve laughed. But right now, Joel would give all his knowledge along with his left arm if he could just figure out what the hell he ought to buy for his daughter.

He knew this day would come eventually. It’s his own damn fault he never prepared himself. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he must’ve expected Sarah to just know how to handle it. Being a single dad wasn’t a walk in the park but he couldn’t imagine how much harder it would be if Sarah wasn’t so damn self sufficient. Even at 13, she can get herself fed and dressed and off to school without help. Of course she could figure this out on her own.

But Joel was reminded that Sarah’s still just a kid when she finally told him that she’d gotten her period for the very first time. She was so embarrassed to admit it, Joel practically had to drag it out of her. 

He was angry with himself. He should’ve been ready, wished that he knew the right words to say. Joel promised himself he would put things right so she wouldn’t feel like she ever had to hide anything from him. 

That was a lot easier said than done, he realizes now.

Joel stands in the aisle overwhelmed and confused. Boxes and soft packages in friendly, pastel colors stare at him from the shelves. He’s never spent much time with the feminine hygiene products, not unless he was scooting by them to pick up a little carton from the family planning section. He hasn’t bothered to learn about that stuff. Women’s stuff. He’s not disgusted by menstruation, isn’t afraid of it. It’s just one of those things he never had to deal with. 

Without Sarah’s mom, though, he’s had to figure out plenty of girl things. He can remember the lesson on managing Sarah’s curls from the kind woman at the hair salon. Names of Shampoos and oils that felt foreign were now routine and he’s mastered using the combs and clips that looked more intimidating than some of his power tools. But he struggled for a good long while before that kind stylist took pity on him. 

And here he is again, flying blind into the female whirlwind. 

There’s so many options on the shelf. Words like HEAVY and gentle and sport. And the prices. Christ! He thought the hair stuff was expensive.  

Joel’s head is spinning but he has to get it together. He’d vowed long ago that he would be Dad and Mom too. That’s what his daughter deserves. 

Just a year ago, he hovered outside of the dressing room at the mall as Sarah tried on training bras. 

“Did you find one? You were in there for a while,” he said when she emerged.

“Dad,” she replied in that tone she was using more and more often, the one that told him to shut up.

It isn’t the changes to her body that scare him, all of the subtle ways she’s becoming less familiar. His little girl is growing up and he mourns her childhood. It won’t be long before she’s driving, going off to college. Maybe she’ll have a daughter of her own but Joel hopes she’ll wait longer than he did, have a chance to make a life for herself.

Speaking of which, he realizes he’s going to have to sit her down for a real talk about boys next. He better get ready for that one. Explaining where babies come from hadn’t been too difficult. Condoms and venereal diseases are a whole different ball game. Teenage boys are gremlins– he’d know– and Sarah’s so smart and pretty, she’s going to have to be careful. 

Joel doesn’t know how long he’s been staring at the shelves when a woman appears in the aisle, another shopper. She’s got her keys looped around a finger, headed straight for the tampons, her flip flops smacking against the bottoms of her feet. Joel has a box in his hands. He doesn’t even know what he’s picked up, it’s just got the least intimidating packaging and the price is reasonable. He can’t help but catch the woman’s eye and the look she gives him is a little wary. It must be obvious that he’s out of his depths. But she gives a polite, tight lipped smile and proceeds to ignore him as she approaches the pantheon of period products. 

He watches as her eyes dart around the shelves and quickly she makes a selection, plucking up a box clad with pink and purple silhouettes. So easy. Well, it must be easy for her. He wonders how many times she’s visited this part of the pharmacy, if her mother brought her to the store when she was Sarah’s age and showed her all the options. 

His free hand fidgets at his side and he swallows dryly. He feels like an idiot but he reminds himself that he’s got to do this. For Sarah. The woman is already half way back to the end of the aisle by the time he’s found his voice. 

---

“Excuse me, miss. Could I trouble you for a second?” you hear from the man behind you. 

You turn around, confused, but there’s nobody else that he could be talking to. Here you thought you could get in and out quickly. You’re cranky and tired and all day you’ve had toe curling cramps. It hits you like a ton of bricks every month. All you want to do is get home to your couch to watch some crappy reality tv. 

But this lumberjack of a man– broad shoulders wrapped in a flannel shirt– is giving you puppy dog eyes. You’ve never been hit on while holding a box of Tampax Pearl but there’s a first time for everything. 

“I apologize. This is real awkward,” he says, rubbing at the back of his neck with a big hand. “I’m trying to get something for my daughter but I’m a little lost.”

His voice is warm and sweet and he’s handsome as hell but you keep your distance. 

“Didn’t she tell you what to get?” you ask. 

His expression grows even more bashful and his voice lowers. 

“I’m afraid it’s, uh…well, it’s new territory for both of us,” he admits. 

You can’t help the sympathetic smile that forms on your lips. Some poor preteen girl just got welcomed into the cruel arms of womanhood. It will be all downhill from here. Wild mood swings, angry breakouts, blood leaking through her favorite pair of pants. At least, it seems, she’s got her dad on her side. It takes a lot of balls for a guy to pick up a box of tampons let alone stop a stranger and ask for help. 

You’d like to tell him that you’re too busy to help– you can hear your Haagen Dazs calling you all the way from the freezer– but you at least owe it to this kid to help him out. 

“What’ve you got?” you ask, nodding towards the powder blue box in his grasp. It looks so little in his big hand. You walk back towards him and take a look. “Oh. Nice try but I wouldn’t go with that.”

He regards his choice again. It’s kind of adorable, the way the corners of his mouth frown as he squints at the words on the front. “What’s wrong with these?” His words aren’t defensive, he’s genuinely curious. 

“Tampons can be pretty tricky when you’re that age. And those don’t even come with an applicator,” you explain. You remember trying to use a tampon that first time. You’d never put anything up there before and it stung like hell.

“Applicator?” His brows furrow and you can see fear in his brown eyes. 

“So you can put it…in,” you tell him and motion with your finger, jabbing your pointer upwards. 

His cheeks go pink. Ears too. You try to suppress a giggle as his brain short circuits for a second. His throat works as he swallows and places the box back on the shelf— gingerly, like it might explode. 

“Which are the ones that don’t…go inside?” he asks. 

It’s impossible to keep from grinning. 

“Pads,” you say. 

He nods. 

You choose a package and place it in his hands. It’s a multipack, everything from light to heavy, and no wings so she doesn’t feel like she’s wearing a diaper. 

“Try this,” you say. “She might not like them. It takes some trial and error.”

He reads over the circle in the corner that claims it’s 100% Leak Free! You can see he’s still overwhelmed but he’s far less nervous. He really is good looking and you have to wonder how he doesn’t have a woman in his life to help him out.

“This many?” he asks. 

“She might need more.” You shrug. “Just stay away from the scented ones. And you have Tylenol at home?”

“I think so.”

“How about a heating pad?”

He shakes his head. 

“Go get one,” you advise. 

He blows out air and then steels himself with a nod, ready to face the red menace. 

“I’m awfully grateful for your help,” he says and you can tell by the look on his face, he means that. 

You feel your own cheeks heat. 

---

Joel ends up behind her in the checkout line after securing an electric heating pad and grabbing an extra bottle of Motrin. 

“What do you think?” he asks, showing her what he picked.

“Good job,” she tells him. Her smile is tinged with amusement but his chest still swells with pride. Maybe he’s not such a failure of a father after all.

Now that he’s less bewildered, Joel can’t help but notice how pretty this woman is. She’s dressed for comfort without any make up as far as he can tell but that smile and the kindness in her eyes is what does it for him. If they met under different circumstances, maybe he’d try to flirt. Not that he’s had the opportunity to practice recently. It’s for the best, though. There’s absolutely no way the combination of bumbling idiot, single parent, and menstruation makes for a romantic connection. Besides he’s here on an errand for his daughter.

Joel tries to keep his eyes from wandering over her as the teenager behind the register rings her up, the pink box and two bags of M&Ms. She gives Joel one last smile before leaving the store. 

He thought he might feel embarrassed buying nothing but period supplies but he’s too busy thinking about how helpful she was. Sarah would just about die from mortification if he told her a complete stranger gave him a crash course in maxi pads. He chuckles to himself. 

“Hey!” someone calls as Joel approaches his truck.

It’s her, the woman from the pharmacy, crossing the parking lot. Joel smooths his hair.

“These are for her,” she says, handing him one of her bags of candy. “Chocolate helps.”

Joel gives a soft laugh as he weighs the M&Ms in his hand. “That I knew,” he says. 

“And, uh, here,” she tells him, holding out the long receipt. 

Joel takes the paper. On the back she’s scribbled her name and phone number. 

“You know, I don’t know. I just thought– if she has any questions. Or maybe if you do,” she says, shrugging. She’s much less confident now than she was in front of that endless selection of menstrual products. It’s cute and makes Joel feel a little less like an idiot for the way he was fumbling a few minutes ago. 

“I owe you one,” he says.

She shakes her head. “Just be patient,” she warns. “She’s gonna be a bitch but don’t take it personally.”

Joel grins. 

“You’re a good dad,” she tells him and he doesn’t know how to respond to that.

She’s already backing away towards her car and waves again. 

Joel looks at her number, once again finding something he doesn’t know. He’d give his left arm to figure out how soon is too soon to call. 

---

MASTERLIST - follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

[thesmpisonfire]

RATTLING IN MY CAGE

Okay. Okay. Okay. So. I finished watching the Prison Escape Vod and BY GOD i have thoughts about cubito Pac e Mike

Let's dive in

(@spreens dragging ur ass to read this bc u asked for it)

GOD. FIRST THING. This stream just made it SO CLEAR how their love language is physical touch. How being close and touching each other or even just the reassurance they could leave their cells to be with each other is important to them. Before they were let out, Pac was panicking, emotions being all over the place and pouring out while Mike did the exact opposite, closed himself shut and waited (The exact opposite to what they are. Mike is the emotional bomb, while Pac has better handle of his intensity)

First thing they did when set free was to run and get close, walking pressed together side by side. The first time they sat with Walter Bob, they also sat side by side

And not only to each other they do this, but they extended it to Walter Bob as well. Mike's constant hugs and Pac walking rlly close or choosing to sit by Walter Bob's side even when it was impractical to do so. They know how isolating and scary it is to be in prison, to feel like you're alone and small, so they both made sure to always let Walter Bob know they were there for him

ALSO. Now to Pac and Mike characterization

Pac had his time to shine as the "Innocent" one once again. He loves to pretend he doesn't know what is going on or act way more scared as he truly is. He likes to pretend he's weak and can only lean on his words to get out of trouble. The thing with Pac is that he IS a good fighter, he was one of the front lines of the timer dungeon, he was ready to beat the shit out of the fake chayanne and tallulah in case they had ran after Richas, even if he was unsure if he should. He's quick on his feet and he's good analysing the situation he's in and how he can win. Which also means he knows damn well when he doesn't has the advantage, and in these cases he'd much rather not fight and instead talk his way out, even if it means being beaten up for a while (or lose a leg). His stealth and agility, plus being people smart, helped him to grab the keys from the backpack. The fact he wears his heart on his sleeve and a smile is quick to appear on his face also helped him get an easier time with the guards, getting better food and even being let alone to roam for a bit, which is when Fit found them. When Mike hit the guard, Pac first thing was to analyse the situation and then run to hit the guard as well, as he noticed they had a good chance of winning

Mike, as always, took the place as the "brains" of the whole thing. The thing with Mike is that he likes to pose as the threatening one, the most dangerous and angry. He yelled at guards and swore and talked shit about everything, which is what gave Pac space to be the 'good' inmate, when more often than not Mike is way more bark than he is bite. He isn't sure of his pvp abilities as of normal and much rather lean on his machines or on Pac to do the job. The prison escapade also put a light on how heartfelt Mike is. He hugged Walter Bob every chance he had, he was always outspoken about bringing Walter Bob with them, he yelled to the guards to defend his friends. Mike is the most serious liar and the one to come up with plans as he feels better planning everything ahead of him. Mike is explosive, which is why he was the one attacking the guard instead of Pac, the pvper. He is a man with anger and strength for a single, demolishing attack. He wanted to defend his best friend and Walter Bob, so he fucking jumped into action. In any other kind of fight, Mike wouldn't do that. He couldn't fight against the bull as he was caught out of surprise, he couldn't hold himself in the dungeon as he can't plan middle chaos, he was completely out of his element against the codes due to shock. But, jumping and immediately started attacking on impulse, a surprise attack? That Mike can do, and he did

Their relationship with Walter Bob is special since they already had a bond with him. He's their friend and they were ready to do anything to take Walter Bob with them. He was the missing piece to make all of this work, the outsider out of their bubble that helped them see things they wouldn't as they are linked together and often on the same line of thought. Pac e Mike wanted him to be happy and have a chance to be himself, they wanted him as part of the family

Losing Walter Bob was a hard hit to them. It made the whole escape turn into failure as he was already an extension of the duo, in a way. And Mike has the tendency of blame himself, always. He still blames himself for Richas' death and he blames himself for Walter Bob being taken, to the point of ignoring Pac and refusing his touch as he doesn't deemed himself of worthy of care. And Pac once again is by his side to pick up the pieces that have been broken, as he always does

This whole stream was. Such a MEAL for characterization. I didn't even go deep about the guards or about this new part of the Federation. Im reeling in cubito's feelings and I'M LOVING IT

[foursaints]

barty has a certified Evan Kink but what else specifically 👀👀👀

grim made a post here that i agree with & im going to reiterate some of it! but generally my barty is pretty disgusting so i’m putting this under a cut lmao…. Beware..... i know i just said i want my asks to be less horny but im not helping. this is so explicit seriously if you are one of my cool mutuals look away (fern do NOT read this i will be so mad)

prefacing this by saying 😭😭 these are NOT my personal preferences i’m simply huffing the fumes like the oracle at Delphi and divining into his mind. also with evan he gets way more switchy but these are just how i see his usual preferences in general 

24/7 power play (as grim said) and free use. barty gets off on blurring the lines between kink and reality and having complete control over his partner sexually but he does it in a sort of irreverent, half-joking-but-not-really-joking way. he’ll casually make his partner lick his boot and he’ll laugh and pat them on the head and get up to go make dinner. bend them over while they’re doing dishes because He Can Have Them Any Time & not let them finish because it’s his decision. that sort of thing

(but u have to put it in context like outside the bedroom that man is SO whipped. he’s calling evan his brainless fuckdoll but he’s also walking 4 miles in the snow to get him the specific type of croissant he wants)

to me there’s a major incongruity between barty’s fantasies and his actual preferences. he jerks off to the idea of keeping his partner collared & silent & pretty & obedient and dolled up and sat quietly on a pillow all day waiting to please him. but he would hate that irl and in reality he LOVES evan’s bitching and bossing him around. its so much more fun

FAKE KIDNAPPING (as grim said). SO REAL! HE IS THE KIDNAPPER! IN A SKI MASK! 

in general my barty is concerningly into cnc but only if its super negotiated and desired. hes checking in beforehand and throughout 800x but like? with evan? they are going the whole nine yards. he wants to pin him down and Take Him while he screams and struggles and cries and fails to fight him off 

while barty is cooing and salivating over him and petting his hair and licking his tears and mockingly telling him how sweet & weak he is and how perfectly evan takes him. btw

overstimulation. both giving and receiving. 

he’ll make his partner get off like eight times daily because he finds overstim entertaining. like he’s not even getting anything out of it at this point. just whenever he’s bored he’ll sit his partner on his knee for the third time that day and play with them until they cry while he scrolls his phone 

this next one shows up mostly in his dirty talk and his habit of manhandling but like? objectification? but in the weird possessive sense of “wow you are so perfect and pretty it’s like you’re a cute little toy that exists Just For Me” <- that type of vibe. he chooses to believe you were Invented to Be Fucked By Him

and his dirty talk is so meeeaaaan like he could be doing the most depraved thing ever and speaking in a casual tone of voice like he's making small talk. he's very condescending and asks a lot of demeaning questions and will laugh. he likes to see evan get angry and embarrassed and make him repeat filthy stuff

not really a kink bc i don’t think it’s something he seeks out or even thinks about much. but when he discovers evan rosier is a virgin he 100% gets SOOO weird and insane about it. bro is FROTHING 

but aside from all of that. he loves giving himself up to evan completely and service top barty is Real. that’s an entirely different rodeo with its own set of… fucking… rodeo clowns? lassos? 20-page long notarized consent forms? this is an untenable metaphor. but anyway i also like to believe that rosekiller has very loving vanilla dynamic-less sex too because im a romantic like that. and also because they are soulmates

he’s SO awful but. you know. i love him anyway

[an-au-blog]

That Vegas wedding Shuggy ask got me imagining an au where at some point Shanks was getting questioned by the marines for something, and in the interest of gathering info they asked him some personal questions including if he was married. On a whim Shanks replied that he was married to Buggy so now on a bunch of legal documents and info files they are listed as spouses. Buggy fucking /hates/ it but no matter how much he denies the marriage he can never get it changed bc Shanks always maintains that yes they really are married when asked. Shanks usually doesn’t bring it up unless directly asked, except on their anniversary (just the day he first claimed they were married) when he sends Buggy an anniversary present along with a way over-the-top love letter. The first gift he ever sent was a ruby “wedding” ring (he bought himself a matching sapphire one). The gifts are always something gold plated and/or jewel encrusted that really has no business being that way. It’s always something nice enough that Buggy kinda wants to keep it regardless of where it came from, but too ridiculous to be practical in use. For their tenth anniversary Shanks took out a like full page announcement in the newspaper that Buggy is still mad about. While it started at least partially as a joke, at this point Shanks just legitimately considers them to be married and thinks Buggy is only still protesting so much bc he’s shy about it or something (this is also mostly what their crews think).

You saying he sent a ruby ring made an image of an angry Buggy stomping around the Captain's quarters like "A RUBY? A RUBY! THAT BASTARD IS SAYING WHAT? THAT IT COMPLIMENTS MY BIG RED NOSE IS THAT IT??? RED RING FOR A RED NOSE!!! OH HOW I HATE HIM! I HATE HIM I HATE HIM I HATE HIM!" while still wearing it and just ogling at it because, let's be honest - Shanks had the most lavish and stunning ring custom made for Buggy, just the type that he knows the clown would like. He doesn't wear all the jewelry and says he'll throw them all away, but he actually hides them in a secret drawer. It's all treasure after all, no matter who it's from.

From time to time, he'll take it all out and reread the letters, putting it all on, thinking about how Shanks knew exactly what he'd like.

About the how the marines found out about the anniversary, I think it'd be funny if Shanks, while shopping for Buggy's gifts, a sales person asks him about what the occasion was. And Shanks looks like the happiest person on earth just saying oh, well me and my spouse have a wedding anniversary on the [insert date], so I want to send them something soon for it to arrive on time. And it just so happens that they all know who he is. Rumour spreads like wild fire and the next day marines try to approach him (getting obligated). He just kind of pouts at the end and goes "They're lucky Buggy's gift isn't harmed or else I would have stayed to finish these guys off!" and that's how they found out the one he's married to was Buggy - a small time pirate in the east blue. They're so confused at first, maybe they thought maybe this clown man wasn't the right Buggy, or maybe they missheard. But then they look at a picture of Buggy's red ring - the same red as Shanks's hair and then at Shanks's ring - matching in shape and style and the same as Buggy's blue hair. And their jaws drop.

[agerefandomstuff]

Could you maybe write some HCs about being Homelander's wife and giving him his milk and paci after he's been venting like hell and having a rough day? Bonus if reader's pregnant. 💕 Thank you in advance 💕

Regressor!Homelander and Pregnant CG!Reader Headcannons

-Homelander has a lot of rough days being America’s number one hero and now Vought’s self-elected leader.

-everything he tells the remaining Seven members to do they somehow always messed it up, leaving him to clean up the mess, save his reputation, and overall wishing he would’ve just done it himself the first time!

-You had heard him rant about this a hundred times before you’re sure of it.

-But you listen every time, knowing sometimes all he needed was someone to listen to him without trying to “undermine him”(as he might put it) by solving the problem or telling him he wasn’t allowed to complain or something.

-you are his safe space.

-although you’d also been through this enough times to know that if he went on too long he was going to only rile himself up until he hit his breaking point and threw a tantrum.

-And Homelander’s tantrums…. They were deadly to say the least.

-so while he continued to rant you warmed up a bottle of your milk and nabbed a pacifier. (The day you started lactating he had about combusted from pure unbridled baby excitement and decided he wouldn’t accept any other kind of milk.)

-bringing them back, you took his hand and led him towards the couch. He follows you without hesitation, continuing to talk too busy to notice your plans despite how many times you two have been through this.

-but once you sat him down over your lap he trailed off his rant, getting comfortable with you.

-“you want your bottle, baby?” You ask him, settling his anger down near instantly. only mild baby frustration left. But you knew even that wouldn’t last.

-He’ll nod and murmur a little like he’s embarrassed but you know he’s always craving your attention and mothering.

-You could make him regress anywhere anytime with the most bare minimum actions. A little “baby boy” here, a pacifier there, and his stress was practically gone. Placed on the back burner of his mind for another time.

-you bring the bottle to his lips and he rests his hand on your belly as he latches on, chugging the best he can out of the rubber nipple.

-He always tried to drink fast at first especially when he regressed after being angry. He would chug hard like he was trying to take his anger out on the rubber. As if it had been the reason he spent the whole evening venting.

-But as his mommy’s/caregiver’s warm milk flooded into his belly while the baby pressed against his hand, he couldn’t find it in himself to stay upset. He never could.

-he’ll lean his cheek onto your shoulder and look down at your belly.

-He loves to feel the baby moving and watching it with his xray vision when he was little.

-it was endearing and a bit entertaining how curious he would get. Sometimes he would just lay on his stomach in front of your belly like it was his favorite cartoon, just watching, giggling softly, and asking you or the baby questions.

-after a few moments watching, you whisper soft praises to him making him melt even further against you. He closes his eyes finally and his suckling slows down to make the last amount of milk last a few minutes longer.

-once he’s finished you tug the bottle from his lips, despite his protesting whimpers, and replace it with his pacifier.

-he settles back down and resumes the suckling actions with the pacifier.

-The act was soothing and incredibly comforting to him but he would probably never admit it out loud.

-Just like he would probably never admit how much he relied on you.

Thanks for the request! I added bonus pictures/edits bc…. I’m weak. I had to. I love baby Homelander.

[a-name-or-three]

i’m think about speech patterns! take these for all your fic writing needs! not all of them are done bc i was taking requests for who to do next on the discord lol

Jon: He tends to speak like he'd type, a veneer of professionalism and Oxford education, but one which slips the second he's shocked out of his facade by worms, or Martin. He's one for run on sentences; he has a lot of thoughts and he wants to get them all out the second they come into his head, no matter if they actually make sense to the listener or not. If he's shocked! or upset! He gets snippier! His phrases are cut off, or bitchy.

Martin: He, well, he hedges a lot. He lets people come to their conclusions before he, uh, before he finished speaking. It's easier that way, y'know? They hear what they want to hear. But when he's angry, or annoyed, or tired, he lets slip what he's really feeling. He stops biting back his words and he gives up on being sweet. You know what he thinks? Maybe people better listen to him now and then!

Tim: Tim is a consummate professional, but also? A Lad. A lot of people forget, but he started in publishing! He's good with his words, and a nerd. These are two Very Important Things about Tim Stoker that he will ensure that you know by the end of a conversation with him. Tim does his best to make you comfortable, talking casually but without restricting what he knows. He's not about to back down from a point if he disagrees with you, though. He's always up for a bit of a Scene, be that imitating his movie of the month, or creating some imagined moment about the people around him. He cares, so deeply, and he wears his heart on his sleeve. His emotions ride high; he can be the class clown if he wants to, but he can just as easily be hurt very badly. Oh, yeah, another thing to mention! He's a little forgetful in conversation! He needs to wheel back to things when he remembers them! He also has a habit of asking questions without asking them? He's more curious than he wants to let on...

Elias: Well, Elias is very similar to Jon. He's a little more restrained in terms of run-on sentences, though. He's spent a long time crafting his language to provide authority in equal measure with a non-threatening presence. He speaks slowly, as if he's thinking over every word, rolling them in his mouth like a sweet. When he realises he needs to intimidate, though, a thrill laces everything he says. He *enjoys* the ability to put those below him into their places. He likes using his words to mould and crush people, and he isn't above doing so. Do I make myself clear, Jon?

Annabelle: Well, Annabelle is similar to Elias, actually. She chooses her words very carefully. She knows how much affect a single choice can have, even down the stress she chooses to put on a phrase. There's a smile in her voice, like she knows everything that this conversation is going to include. Though, I suppose, it's important to remember how young she is. When she died, she was just a poor university student... She's not sure she's grown up since then, and it's much easier to weave a web when people think you're innocent...

Nikola: Nikola talks Exactly how you'd expect a ringmaster puppet to talk! Grand gestures, bright smiles, all with a plastic coating! Isn't everything she says just wonderful?! She knows people hate her, and she also knows how funny it is to pretend like they adore her! She's less self-aware, than some of the others, but she's there to have fun, not manipulate people! She understands her atrocities, and *delights* in them. She doesn’t have a face, so she has to put all her emotions into her voice!

Peter: Peter is just... Tired. Growing up as he did has him split between an innate human desire to share, and the exhaustion of other people. He settles by picking a confidant, and markedly rejecting everyone else through a professional, bland exterior. He knows, he knows better than you, but he's not going to stress himself proving it. He's got better things to do.

Michael: Michael... What an interesting boy... He... I...? Was... Is...? Michael is something else. He knows he doesn't talk in a way that others understand instinctively... And yet it's always very clear what he means. He is deceit, but he will never lie to you. It's easy to understand a lie. Much harder to unravel a half-truth. I suppose that's what Michael is... A half-truth. There's amusement in his nonsensical nature, even as he bites back resent. Some remnant of that anxious little boy long to make a joke, to titter anxiously at the things his friends say... Michael is confusion, confusing, confused. And he knows exactly what's happening.