#i would’ve gone fuckin mad

[babyb1ues]

Xavier has like, 0 family. Like he has 0 family wow. Ever think about that. His family is like, dead. And most of the earth friends he made are too, or will be too. And the backtrackers left as well. He only has Jeremiah if u think about it. And not even consistently since they broke up for a handful of years. And he doesn’t even blame anyone for it, for leaving I mean. He’s just been doing this whole thing on his own for a while now. Huh. Sounds kinda lonely if u ask me. How do u even begin to cope

[ssorenz]

F*CK ME LIKE YOU MAD AT ME BABY!!

pairings (separate) ୨ৎ : toji fushiguro x reader, gojo satoru x reader, choso kamo x reader, suguru geto x reader

contains ୨ৎ : adult content (mdni), piv penetration, jealous/angry s*x, face sitting, c*nnilingus, overstim, car sex, squ*rting, edging, oral s*x (giving and receiving), pet names

a/n ୨ৎ : i might make a part 2 w/ sukuna, higuruma, nanami and shoko (or others), but it depends on how well this does!! not proofread btw, i posted this while half asleep 👎

in honor of me hitting 300+!!

toji fushiguro—☆

“fuck did i tell you about hangin’ out with that— bastard?” toji emphasizes each of his words with a snap of his hips. deep, merciless strokes into that, slick, puffy cunt of yours.

it was tired, tired from all the abuse it had taken. toji managed to pull three— no, four orgasms out of you in the span of an hour.

impossible for some. but toji? never that. he knew you like the back of his hand.

which is exactly how he knew you’d be so gullible, so naive, towards your conniving coworker.

of course you didn’t notice when he’d take glances at your tits as they restrained in your uniform. of course, when he offered to take you out to restaurants, you thought of it as ‘strictly business’.

but of course, thats what toji was here for— to keep you in check.

“im, haah— m’sorry tojii!!” you choked out a pathetic sob, trying your best to find common ground with the man. this torture had gone on for.. god knows how long. your brain was too fuzzy to even attempt to recall what time it was.

“sorry, my ass. shoulda’ been sorry a long time ago, mama. s’too late for all that now..” he grunted in reply, still continuing the ungodly pace he was going at.

jackhammering himself into you at this point— his full, aching balls slapping against your wetness.

he had your back arched— face up, ass down, hands tied behind your back, bobbing up and down with each mean thrust. red marks ingrained into the fat of your hips from the way he hooked his nails into them, making sure you’d be unable to run from him.

and it wasn’t just your hips that were marked, oh no. the crook of your neck, just along your collarbone, the inner and outer regions of your plush thighs. toji made sure to mark you up real nice and good.

“if you were really sorry,” he continued. “you would’ve stopped fuckin’ talking to that asshole months ago. then he woulda never thought it was— shit, be so handsy wit’ ya’.”

as toji replayed the scene in his head, his strokes were even sharper, practically burying you into the mattress at this point. he remembered picking you up from work, in your blouse and short pencil skirt that rode up your ass.

your coworker stopped you before leaving though, exchanging a quick goodbye, and a ‘simple hug.’ atleast thats what you called it.

but having his hands around your waist, slowly inching towards the hem of your skirt was anything but simple.

“toji, please— m’ really sorry! didn’t know..” you almost incoherently babbled out. the way his cock repeatedly pummeled its way against your sweet spot, it had you dumb. stupid, even.

“ya’ never fuckin’ know, huh? poor thing..gotta protect you from these men out here, yeah? need me by your side at all times?” he cooed sarcastically as you frantically nodded in reply.

“need you, daddy. n-need you to protect me—”

toji chuckled darkly, almost feeling bad from how pathetic you looked, how pathetic you sounded. the way your eyes rolled back as he hit your g-spot over and over, or the helpless cries that left your mouth as he did so.

“good. n’ thats how it needs to stay, mama.”

satoru gojo—☆

satoru couldn’t wait. he physically could not wait until he got home. no no, he needed you now.

his hands were engulfed in your hair, grabbing a plentiful handful as he bobbed your head up and down, soft groans of pleasure emitting from his parted lips.

“you thought that shit you pulled today was funny, yeah? messy fuckin’ girl.”

gojo had a meeting earlier with the higher-ups, discussing training for his students. you were practically on your knees, begging to tag along. after some consideration, he obliged (of course)—after all, who’s he to deny his favorite girl?

unfortunately for you, the meeting was more boring than you thought. listening to their voices drone on for what felt like eternities made your head ache.

unfortunately for satoru though, you let boredom get to the best of you.

he looked so damn attractive next to you, so professional— like his whole demeanor changed. your mind couldn’t help but wander elsewhere. your hands couldn’t help but wander either, as they discreetly drifted to the middle of his lap.

gojo let out a soft groan as you began palming him through his slacks, but was quick to conceal it with a cough. he tried desperately not to react too visibly, but it was becoming increasingly tormenting with each passing moment.

finally, after what felt like an eternity for both of you (though likely only seconds), satoru couldn't contain himself any longer— interrupting the meeting abruptly by announcing that you both needed to leave early due "to personal matters." with that excuse out of the way, he dragged you out before anyone could question the sudden departure.

to be quite frank, it was hilarious. well, in your eyes atleast. for satoru…?

ah, not so much.

mascara ran down your cheeks, tears welling up—blurring your vision as you felt the tip of his cock hit your uvula over and over. you could feel it throbbing angrily in your mouth as your tongue slobbed around the base.

gojo continued thrusting his hips back and forth into your mouth, holding onto your hair tightly. looking up, you could see his eyes rolling to the back of his head, milky strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead.

even in his state, he still looked so dreamy.

satoru held you down, forcing you onto his base, your nose brushing against his well-kept happy trail. you choked, strings of drool pooling effortlessly down his cock. he let out a deep, throaty moan that seemed to reverberate inside the car. your mouth was so warm, so welcoming.

gojos thrusts intensified as he continued to recklessly pound himself into your slack jaw, the salty taste of his precum dribbling onto your tongue. he was close to cumming— you both knew it.

his movements became more shaky and jagged, sloppily going in and out of your mouth before stopping. before you knew it, sweet yet salty ropes of his essence painted the back of your throat— making you instinctively swallow. satoru quickly pulled out, resting his bare cock on your face as he felt another load arising.

and it did, painting your pretty face with his sticky, pearlescent seed.

gojo looked at the sight beneath him, cursing underneath his breath as he admired how good you looked. even covered in his cum, even with your hair all disheveled, you still looked amazing.

“a-acting out to get what you want— tsk, what a brat.” he teased, still recovering from his orgasm. typical gojo, even in his weakest moments, he never lost his charm nor attitude.

“well it worked, didn’t it?” you retorted, a sly smirk playing on your lips.

“i- uh. . . no comment.”

kamo choso—☆

choso was never the type to take his anger out on his loved ones, especially you.

the half curse, half human wasn’t unfamiliar with the feelings of anger and jealousy, although he never experienced the writhing feeling first hand.

but of course, there’s always a first time for everything.

“mine, mine, mine—“ choso whined, a series of breathless moans following soon after as he shamelessly pummeled into you. he had you in a nasty mating press as you lay flat on the bed, legs damn near reaching your ears.

“you’re my girlfriend, no one else’s. . . especially not— hngh, his.”

your male friend, who obviously had the hots for you. choso was baffled you couldn’t tell, as his flirtatious remarks and actions weren’t even that subtle.

the way he’d compliment your outfits, blatantly staring at your chest— especially when you wore lower cut tops. or when he’d ogle at your curves, licking his lips as his eyes rode up your thighs.

or like today, when he suggested you leave your boyfriend for him. now that, was choso’s last straw.

"you really shouuuld, ya know?" he slurred into your ear, clearly intoxicated from the drinks you both were sipping on. choso was just a few feet away in the living area, engrossed in some show he was watching. but his eyes flicked over to you occasionally, as he kept an eye on the situation.

"i mean, why are you even with him?" your friend continued, his voice a loud whisper, clearly thinking he was discreet. "you deserve someone who really appreciates you. someone like... me."

choso was enraged—he undeniably heard every word. someone who really appreciates you? the nerve.

standing up, he approached you two, shooting daggers into your friends wicked expression as he wrapped his muscular arm around your waist.

but that cockiness soon faltered after noticing your boyfriends deadly glare. your male friend started pathetically apologizing, claiming it was a ‘joke.’

but even choso knows that drunk words are sober thoughts.

“f-fuuck, ‘cho…he, aah— didnt mean it!”

“dont c-care…” he grunted, low and rough. his jagged, uncontrolled, breaths tickled against your skin as he nuzzled his way into the crook of your neck. “i appreciate you more than he, nngh, ever w-will.”

you let out a soft moan, his words shooting shivers down your spine. choso was never like this— so possessive. but who’s to say you were complaining?

he continued ravishing into you, so carnally— the feeling of being so completely claimed by him was both exhilarating and terrifying.

but damn, it turned you on like nothing else.

his pants echoed in your ears as he picked up speed, his body moving against yours in perfect rhythm, the sound of his thighs slamming against your own. any thoughts you had, fled from your mind except for the sensation of his cock bottoming out inside you and the way he took control of both your body and mind.

as the intensity built, you could feel yourself getting closer to you peak. you didn't want it to end, but you also knew that when it did, the pure feeling alone would be delectable.

“choso— m’gonna, f-fuck! mm’gonna cumm~!” you blubbered out, your eyes starting to pool. with those words, he picked up his pace even more— delving deeper inside of you. just as you were about to let go and give in, adrenaline coursing through your veins, choso objected.

"n-not yet,” he denied. “m’ not done with you yet."

geto suguru—☆

“s’too much, sug’!” you sobbed loudly as geto’s tongue danced around your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

you squirmed and writhed on suguru's face, your hips grinding against his mouth as he expertly teased your clit with his tongue. you couldn't believe how good it felt, how skilled he was at his craft.

"suguru..." you panted, gripping the headboard tightly as yet another wave of pleasure hit you like a semi-truck. "m’sorry, please. i-i didn’t mean it…”

suguru chuckled softly against your sensitive flesh, his expression twisting into a devilish grin. "oh?" he teased, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "didn’t mean what? i can’t quite recall what it was."

he knew exactly what you were implying. yet, he was teasing— because the both of you knew what you said earlier contradicted this current state you were in now.

you bit your lip, feeling a warm blush creep up on your cheeks at the memory of what had come out of your mouth during the heat of the moment. "..‘said that you n-never make me cum," you mumbled sheepishly.

geto paused for a moment before resuming his ministrations with renewed vigor, causing yet another surge of pleasure to ripple through your body. "is that so? hm… i’ve never made you cum?" he asked mockingly, his voice full of amusement. “well she’s tellin’ me otherwise baby.”

he was referring to your cunt. the way “she” squelched as suguru slid his slender fingers in with ease, coated from your own slick mixed with his saliva.

the way he curled those digits inside of you, hitting that sweet spot that made your back arch and moans escape from between parted lips even as they were pressed against his face.

as his fingers continued to stroke your inner walls, searching for that perfect spot that would send you over the edge, his other hand reached up to play with one of your nipples.

the combination of the two was enough to make your head spin and your body shudder with anticipation. "s-suguru..." you whimpered out between gasps for air. "please... don't stop..."

his only response was a low rumble from deep within his chest—vibrating against your cunt as he swirled his tongue around your clit once again before finally taking it into his mouth completely, plunging two fingers deep inside of you.

a sharp hiss escaped from between your clenched teeth, followed by a subdued cry as suguru circled inside of you. he smirked, watching eagerly as your facial expression twisted lewdly with each nasty ministration. he was such a tease.

it felt as though your very being was on the verge of exploding. every nerve ending screamed for release, begging to be set free from this torment. the tension coiled tightly within you, threatening to snap at any moment and send waves of ecstasy crashing over your body.

you could feel it coming closer now— that inevitable peak where all sensations would converge into one, resulting in a mind-blowing orgasm. your heart raced, pounding against your chest like a drum signaling an approaching storm. sweat trickled down between your breasts and pooled at the small of your back as you arched further into suguru's touch.

but as quick as the pleasure built to a crescendo, it ended just as fast.

geto pulled his mouth away suddenly, grinning up at you from his spot between your legs, eyes sparkling with mischief. "since you said i never make you cum," he teased, his fingers curling inside of you in a way that threatened to push you over the edge yet again.

"i’m sure someone else will be able to help alleviate that little problem of yours." and with those words, he rose from his place underneath your figure. your legs being shaky, unstable, gave out beneath you, making you plop onto the mattress.

as geto sauntered towards the door with a smug smile on his face, he turned back to give one last taunt. “dont worry," he said with an air of false concern. "it shouldn’t be too hard finding someone that makes you cum as hard as i do."

DSIIRESBLOG™ 2024 — comments, feedback, and reblogs are always appreciated!! <3

[tohokuu]

jjk men zipping up your dress

REBLOG MY WORK.

warnings : suggestive, light fluff, tension

a/n : something i did to my girl bestfriend the other day and it made me gay. also i didnt k is what to call this so… the name is misleading but 🧍🏽‍♀️

GOJO

“satoruuuu, can you please help me?” you whines prettily. gojo straightened up, looking at you away from the netflix tv show that kept him occupied.

“yeah. what’s up, baby?” he asked. you came closer, tiny little crop to sticking to your skin while the material of your jeans hugged your hips a little too tightly.

“i think i got them a size too small, baby. they won’t fit and i don’t wanna wear any other jeans with this top.”

gojo motioned you forward, leaning over to work his thin, long fingers around the buttons of your jeans.

these weren’t regular jeans. they were the ones with four buttons as a replacement for your zipper.

your panties peaked from underneath, if they could be even called that. you wore your thong out of your jeans today, showing off the cute dior imprint on the sides.

“toru, hurry up. i’m getting late!” you whined. gojo ignored your protest, squeezing your ass closer to him to make it fit inside your jeans.

“babe, if it wasn’t for your ass, this would’ve gone in perfectly ya know?” you rolled your eyes. fingers slowly trailing into his white hair, you tugged lightly while he worked four buttons through each hole.

you leaned back, getting annoyed at how long he was taking. you swung your hips side to side, a small habit when you felt bored.

but you were knocked out of your gaze when gojo pulled you roughly by the belt loop. you heard a thread snap and you looked down in shock.

his blue cerulean eyes stared up at you, blown wide open with lust and dominance.

“stop. moving.” he repeated.

you listened to him. not moving another inch as he pulled you closer using a finger hooked around a belt hoop.

TOJI

“tojiiiii, can you get this for me?” you said as you went up to your boyfriend. you turned around, showing him the extremely backless dress you wore. he raised his eyebrow, smiling to himself.

“you goin’ somewhere, pretty?” he asked. you nodded your head.

“i’m going out with shoko and utahime.” you chirped.

“mmm, dressed like this? coulda thought you was out to fuck other guys.”

his comment left a sour taste in your mouth. pulling away, you looked at him sadly, lip a little wobbly because how could he think of you like that?

he smirked at your distressed expression.

“i’m only messin’ wit ya.” you crossed your arms over your chest, still mad.

but toji knew how to make it right. he grabbed each wrist, pulling your arms around his neck and lifting your chin up so you could look up at him.

“look at me, babygirl.” he spoke in his husky voice.

you looked up, eyebrows still furrowed.

“you’re so fuckin’ cute with that face, ya know that? thinkin’ that it’ll really make a difference at all.” he crooned.

“shut up, toji. it wasn’t funny.”

“i think it was, babydoll.” he leaned in to your neck, pressing soft kisses around the column of your neck, right below your ear. you found it difficult to not gasp, breathing a little heavier as you tried to push at his shoulders.

toji wrapped his hands around the silky thread that ran across the span of your back, tugging it tightly while pulling you against his chest.

you gasped.

“ ‘m not done yet, where you think you’re goin’?” the deep timbre of his voice made your thighs press together, trying to hold in a squeak.

you felt your dress stick to your body tighter and together until a small snap was heard and your dress was all good to go.

toji pulled away, raising an eyebrow at your now pushed up tits.

he flicked your forehead softly, walking away to go back to whatever he was doing.

SUKUNA

“kuna, how do you do this??” you asked.

you walked up to him, almost tripping in the cloth that pooled around you.

he looked down from his throne, brows squinting as he saw your tiny form in a haori that was much too large for you.

he sighed..

“why are you wearing my haori, you bumbling fool?”

you tilted your head, looking down at the cloth that was wrapped around you, engulfing you in linens and silks.

“what?” you chittered.

“what exactly are you trying to achieve, brat?” his voice low and venomous.

“i just wanted to look pretty in a kimono.” you cried.

“well, that isn’t a kimono, for starters.” he sighed, watching your eyes tear up a little at the little mistake you had made.

within seconds, he appeared before you, a deep red kimono in hand.

his calloused hands pulled down his haori, exposing your shoulders to him. you blushed now, feeling more than exposed.

“k-kuna, what are you doing?” you asked.

“shut up. i’m aiding you.”

you kept quiet, fidgeting around a little until he raised his eyebrow at you, silently telling you to stop moving.

the haori was long gone and your body was naked and bare before him. he didn’t dare touch you slyly, though. his hands only grazed where needed and his eyes never left the fabric, not daring to look at anything he wasn’t supposed to.

his hands pulled the kimono taught around you, fixing it around your shoulders and then taking the obi to wrap around.

“life your arms.”

you did as told, lifting your arms and making a T-pose.

he worked the obi around you neatly, finishing off with a small brush to your side and a step back to admire his work.

“you look… presentable.” as he cringed.

you knew he just meant that you looked beautiful.

GETO

your roommate was the only available help you currently had. it was an awkward situation you got yourself stuck into.

“hey uhh, geto, can you please uhh zip this up?” you asked meekly.

he got up quickly, coming around so you could see each other in the mirror. you moved your hair to the side so it wouldn’t get stuck in the zipper.

he inhaled sharply, staring at the tramp stamp at the end of your back. it was cute, he thought.

he pulled your body back roughly, “sorry, my bad.” he wasn’t sorry.

you nodded, letting him carry on with the annoying zipper that just wouldn’t go up. his cold hands touched your back, making you arch away from him.

“sorry.” once again, he was not sorry in the slightest.

his heavy fingers played with the zipper a bit, trying to even it out so it could move up and down smoothly. a part of him could feel in his chest that you did this on purpose.

you probably wanted him to lay his plush lips along the juncture of your neck, kissing the skin and marring it with reminders of him.

but he pushed those thoughts away, reaching all the way down to where the waistband of your panties were, playing around with the zipper until it finally came up.

“mmm, there you go.” he said, but not before giving you a look through the mirror that made you regret not grabbing and kissing him.

CHOSO

you decided to head to the beach with your boyfriend today. you were tired and figured you needed a day off before getting back to work.

you packed your skimpiest bikini that left little to the imagination and left for a two hour beach drive.

things would’ve gone smoothly until the elastic on your swimsuit snapped.

you rushed across the sand, running to your boyfriend.

“choso, choso, my swimsuit snapped!” you whisper shouted.

he got to work quickly, putting a hand on your waist to pull your back against him. something about how rushed his actions were did something to you. a fire brewed in your belly as you thought that other people could see how close he was standing next to you, more than half naked while your tits almost flew out of your swimsuit.

“mm, maybe i’ll have gojo rent a private beach for us.” choso hummed behind you.

“why’s that?” you asked.

“so i can fuck you completely naked on the beach, obviously.”

your face turned red. “choso!” you shouted. he chuckled behind you, bending down to kiss at your neck. he bit the skin lightly, nipping just enough for you to let a small moan out.

“mmm, you’re not ashamed that others could hear, princess?” you shook your head, knowing he’d find it cute if you tried to lie.

“i should just untie this thing and fuck you right here.”

NANAMI

you were excited to wear a ball gown today. it was the first ball you were attending as kento had been invited and you were his date.

he purchased a beautiful white gown with golden accents. “for you.” he had left it on your bed with a note asking you to come down once you were done getting ready.

but if only it were that easy to wear a ball gown…

the top was a corset and you honestly had no idea how to even wear a corset. you whined as your arms got tired and you gave up trying to put this damn thing on.

there was a knock at your door.

“y/n, what’s going on?”

it was nanami. you felt a little hot. your boobs and your back was nearly out and he was the only one who could help with this current dilemma of yours.

you shook the thoughts from your head, reaching forward to open the door to let him in.

he gasped.

“oh.”

he spoke. you cringed, letting yourself curl inwards. “do i truly look that bad?” you asked.

nanami shook his head. “not in the slightest, but darling what’s going on with the back of the dress?”

you sighed, “i don’t know how to wear a corset.”

he chuckled, walking behind you and facing you in the mirror.

there was something intimate about this moment.

he used his front to push you straight against the dressing table, your mouth letting out a gasp. he pushed you down by the shoulder, acting calm and collected while your panties gained an extra layer of wetness.

you watched him in the mirror as he wrapped his hands over and over the bands of the corset until he finally pulled back really tight.

you felt the wind knock out of your legs, but you weren’t sure for which reason.

was it the lack of rooms your lungs had or how tight you were against nanami’s back?

he chuckled, tying the strings at the bottom of your waist, pulling away with just a gentle kiss on your temple like he wasn’t just in perfect position to fuck you.

REBLOG MY WORK.

taglist form.

©️ tohokuu. do not steal or plagiarize.

[indiweb]

𓋜 RAVAGING WHAT'S THEIRS ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ members of riize.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ teaching lessons ⋆ riize hyung line

﹙ 라이즈 ﹚ their reaction to you in a lace party dress. ── 𝑒𝑠𝑡. 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉. 𝒻!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋. (≽^•༚• ྀི≼) GENRE suggestive && nsfw. ⭑⠀、 𝓐RCHIVE?! ✶ 𝒘𝒄 0.4k ╱ © indiweb

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OSAKI SHOTARO⠀in⠀Riize. 6.23 | 쇼타로 ⋆ 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑠𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑠.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀₊˚𓂃ᡴꪫ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀he’d gone to the party with the rest of the boys , entrusting you with your dear girl friends who had a special surprise for the man. the night was young and so were you both , so a little frisk never hurt anyone. especially not when he looked so cute with his rosy cheeks and stumbled actions the moment he saw you enter the house party with that damn lacy dress riding up your ass.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀₊˚𓂃ᡴꪫ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the music tuned out as he focused on you , one last shot to the head whilst he maneuvered through the crowd and took hold of your hand. a yelp was muffled into the music at his abrupt grasp , handing your cup of liquor off to minjeong that cheered you on during your departure. she knew how head over heels shotaro was for you , so she thoroughly enjoyed seeing how out of shape he got seeing you so dolled up.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀₊˚𓂃ᡴꪫ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀lips crashed together the moment shotaro threw both of your bodies onto a random coat closet. arms snaked his shoulder all the while his likewise wrapped your waist , large hands grasping at the flesh of your exposed ass. " fuck , baby why would you do this t’me. y’look so fuckin’ pretty. i need you so bad. " he’d whine into the crevice of your neck , grinding his clothed crotch into your barely-exposed cunt that’d already soaked the thin fabric of your dress.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀₊˚𓂃ᡴꪫ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀lewd mewls echoed the small chamber , fingers entangling within his luscious curls as you explored each others mouths , not a single care for the outside world in sight. it didn’t matter to shotaro if someone walked in , he’d put on a show to make sure you got the message to never wear a dress so revealing without him again. his simple touched etched into your skin , burning sensations seeping into your veins and getting you high off his affection.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀₊˚𓂃ᡴꪫ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀if not for his total self control , he’d have you face down in the closet with the only coherent sentence uttered being an apology for allowing minjeong to dress you in such garments. garments that he fought hell and back to not rip off your sweet body just so he could have a quick view at what was his , and his only.

' fu— fuck , y'er too fuckin' pretty for me to stay mad at. damn you. ' ' sho , please! o— oh , fuck. please , sho! '

the way his fingers were swallowed whole within the tight embrace of your sopping cunt could be experimented on. how he pumped you just perfectly to earn the right amount of squeals and whines , oh he was just perfect.

' s'good f'me , pretty. so so good for me. c'mon jus' like that , lemme hear ya. ' ' s— shit! fuck , sho please! '

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SONG EUNSEOK⠀in⠀Riize. 6.23 | 송은석 ⋆ 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑠𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑠.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀₊˚𓂃ᡴꪫ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀speaking of face down ass up. eunseok would’ve left for the party in a separate car than you , you ensuring that the outfit you wore for him was a secret that’d be revealed at the gathering. eunseok was only a tad worried knowing that (yu) jimin was the one who dressed you. he knew how … revealing .. her style could be. and he also knew how desirable you were , so the combo would not be in his favor at a public event.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀₊˚𓂃ᡴꪫ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀and yet , the moment his eyes scanned your plush figure , noticing how entirely see through the dress was , all he could think about was how his friends couldn’t keep their eyes off you. how your hips swayed every step you took closer to them. it burned his insides , a firm grasp tugging on your wrist before you even had a moment to greet the group of men. stumbled footing was met with his sudden aggression , jimin giving you double thumbs up as you swallowed the harsh lump that rested within your throat.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀₊˚𓂃ᡴꪫ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the next few moments were an entire blur. all you could reckon was being pushed into a room with a bed. kisses being exchanged and moans fueling the heat between your legs. though now , you could barely remember your own name with how deep his swollen tip prodded your cervix. legs grew numb by the minute , one hand pinning both of your wrists to your back while the other likewise pinned your head to the mattress below. your own laced underwear was stuffed right in your mouth , catching all the stray tears that burned down the flesh of your cheeks.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀₊˚𓂃ᡴꪫ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀" i leave you alone for a second and you play some sick game trying to get a reaction. " his hoarse tone sent chills down your spine with every rut he sent into your lower abdomen , eyes rolling at how perfectly he stretched you out ; how easily he stuffed you whole as he bottomed out each thrust. muffled apologies were sobbed into the fabric garments , toes curling whenever he turned his pace dangerously slow just so he could smack your hips together with each aggressive buck.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀₊˚𓂃ᡴꪫ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀" m’s— sorry , seok! p— please , oh fuck please. i’m— i’m sorry! " wails of mercy protruded your frail lips , laced underwear being replaced by two of his thick digits all the while he toughened his steady pace , enjoying how drunk you were getting from his hostility. it was no help that your sopping cunt sucked him in harder with every pull out ; eunseok’s favorite thing about your precious body.

' tell me you'll never do some dumb shit like this again , my love. ' ' i— i swear. i promise! i— i’m sorry , baby. '

mewled curses could be heard exerting the man’s lips , thrusts getting sloppier the longer he ravaged your insides. he could feel himself getting closer , you already on your second orgasm of the night.

' too fuckin' pretty to be prancin' around like this. ' ' oh , f— fuck. seok m'sorry. i'm sorry! please let me cum. '

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀◜◡◝

JUNG SUNGCHAN⠀in⠀Riize. 6.23 | 정성찬 ⋆ 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑠𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑠.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀₊˚𓂃ᡴꪫ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀an extroverted puppy he was. he loves mingling with others , especially once the liquor started hitting. he hadn’t even realized you entered the party due to him all around the bar taking shots with different people. you were likewise lost in your own world , body swaying against yizhuo’s as you both allowed the melodies that blared the speakers to control your movements.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀₊˚𓂃ᡴꪫ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀it wasn’t until shotaro tugged sungchan’s shoulder , knocking a little of his shot from the glass as sungchan pivoted his footing. eyes locking on your figure , his eyes were mere inches from protruding his sockets , downing his last shot before he stumbled his way into the horde of dancing figures. no matter how many women threw themselves at him in an attempt to seduce a dance , he gently pushed them aside with his eyes locked on your far-too-revealing body that was on full display for anyone who so much as gazed in your direction.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀₊˚𓂃ᡴꪫ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀soon after he ripped you from yhizuo’s grasp , you found yourselves within the confinement of a random bathroom. his chest was pressed into your back with his arms holding firm grasps along your biceps , weakened moans riding off your tongue with every movement he made. the hems of your skirt was hiked up your ass , one of his large hands kneading the exposed flesh that’d grown red from his harsh slaps.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀₊˚𓂃ᡴꪫ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀your legs would’ve given out if not for how deep he buried himself in you. stretching your delicious walls to mar the shape of his dick. veins raked your insides with every strained thrust he slowly guiding in your cunt , enjoying how you squirmed before him , practically fucking yourself on his erection. " so fuckin’ needy for someone who wore such filth. " teeth gritting only meters away from your ear , back arching how his breath fanned the hairs on your neck. " m’sorry , chan. f— fuck. please just fuck me. " your pleading moans were music to his ears , the hand that rested on your bicep traveling to your neck and making you watch how you begged him so pathetically.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀₊˚𓂃ᡴꪫ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀with one last ricocheting slap to your swollen flesh , he guided his hand towards your opposite bicep , roughening his actions and likewise watching you through the mirror. how your mouth hung low. the way you twitched every other rut he sent to your gut. your eyes that practically turned white every time he kissed your cervix with his throbbing tip. you were so perfect. so goddamn perfect for him , though sometimes your actions got the best of you.

' use your words , baby. c'mon , i know you can be a big girl f'me. ' ' p—please , jus' fuck me. please , baby. '

one leg was thrown onto the counter , giving sungchan more access to hit every sweet spot that carved your insides. by now the dress had been completely tarnished , stretched out at every seam along it.

' god y'fit me so well , pretty. so perfect. ' ' i— i can— can't. s'too much. fuck , fu— fuck so good , baby. '

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀◜◡◝

PARK WONBIN⠀in⠀Riize. 6.23 | 정성찬 ⋆ 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑠𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑠.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀₊˚𓂃ᡴꪫ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀”y/n’s little emo boyfriend” is what everyone called him. sticking out like a sore thumb whenever he stood next to your brilliant smile and extroverted mannerisms. always so gentle , so careful when his hands grazed your precious skin. it was as if he was scared to lay a hand on you , earning some guidance from yourself whenever he did so. it was cute. he was cute. always has been since before you asked him out.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀₊˚𓂃ᡴꪫ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀never in your life would you have thought to see such hunger swirling his beautiful eyes. disheveled breaths grazing your flesh and earning soft gapes from your gloss covered lips. thighs threatening to close were held still by your sheepish boyfriend who couldn’t stand how beautiful you looked out on the dance floor. he thought he could handle it. he swore he wasn’t the jealous type. no never. he couldn’t. it was childish and far too time consuming.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀₊˚𓂃ᡴꪫ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀though , the longer he observed you amongst peers , skirt riding your hips anytime you lowered your upper body to grind against aeri’s lower abdomen. the man’s mind wandered freely , jealousy an evident linger the more he envied the woman. he was a fool to think he was superior , falling victim like any other man and finding himself kneeled between your legs with utmost desperation protruding his aroma.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀₊˚𓂃ᡴꪫ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀" f— fuck , bin please! wh— what if someone walks i— in? " your pleas were merely rubbish to his disastrously lewd actions. to hell with everyone that could interrupt your moment. he wanted you. he needed you. this very instant. just as much as you wanted him. aeri knew a dress as such would bring out the worst in your timid boyfriend , and boy were you glad you listened for once. he handled you with such hostility , yet so much passion that it made your legs turn jello.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀₊˚𓂃ᡴꪫ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀lips latched onto your clit to silence your critiques , knees bucking around wonbin’s head , though his sleek fingers delved into your flesh and forced them open much like before. it was an erotic scene , chin dripped in your slick with his lust filled gaze burning holes into your weeping figure above. if not for your wrist that was glued to your filth-spewing mouth you’d be sure to have moans embedded into the seams of the finished walls.

' jus' once more , sweetheart. i know you got one final load in there f'me. ' ' b—bin , please. i— i ca—can't. '

calloused fingers joined his mouth in relishing your juices , sopping cunt wrapping firmly around two of his digits that seeped so perfectly within your delicate walls. it drove him mad how sweet you tasted.

' you're doin' s'good for me , princess. ' ' i— i'm sorry. bin , p— please. i—i promise i'll never we— ear it again. '

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝜗ϱ

SINCERELY , YOURS TRULY Ξ ©INDIWEB, 2024

[spid3namy]

— DIFFERENT UNIVERSE PT.1

pairing : e!42 miles x mixed!female reader

summary : miles was being weird, not how he usually acted. he somehow found himself in the wrong universe, unbeknownst to you.

contains : a little angst, fluff, kissing, implied cheating??, cussing, they are in their late teens, happy endings i promise 

word court : 1142

notes : i rewatched atsv for like the 4th time and for some reason i decided that i wanted to write about what would happen if e!42 miles and e!1610 miles switched places like how it is at the end of the movie except nobody is like tied to a punching bag LMAO. this was my attempt at writing a longer fic too 😍

How did he end up here?

This wasn’t his earth. He didn’t understand how or why he was here but all he knew was that this was the wrong place. 

He couldn’t help the way that he felt stupid for allowing himself to get into this whole situation. 

“Miles..? You okay?”

Miles blinked and looked over at you, furrowing his eyebrows to try and adjust to his new surroundings. How did you get into his apartment? Or… what he thought was his apartment? He really had no idea anymore.

Everything was confusing him at this point. He didn’t know anything anymore.

“Miles.”

You snap your fingers in front of his face to gain his attention, not understanding why your boyfriend was acting so weird. Miles blinked once again and shook his head, running a hand over his face.

“Yeah.. yeah, ‘m fine.”

Okay. That was definitely weird. Since when did Miles have an accent? And since when did he have braids in his head? 

“Uhm.. okay?”

Miles let out a puff of air and shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. How the hell was he even supposed to get home? How did he even get here? He had no idea. 

“Qué pasa, Miles? You keep starin’ off into space.”

“‘M fine.. I promise”

Miles gave you an awkward smile and cleared his throat awkwardly, shoving his hands into his pockets. You looked familiar to him, like he’s seen you somewhere before. He wasn’t really sure. Maybe it was in his universe. Whatever it was, it was weird.

Miles flinched slightly when you touched his face. 

“What? You mad or somethin’?”

“Huh..?”

Okay, so that was definitely weird. Why was he acting this way? Have you done something wrong? You didn’t really know. But all you knew was that Miles, or whoever the hell this was, flinched when you touched him. That never happened. 

“Miles, quit fuckin’ playin’ around with me right now.”

“I don't know what you’re talking about..”

You let out a sigh and shook your head, your thumb caressing his cheek lightly. Miles couldn’t help the way that he felt comfort from how you touched his face. It was wrong, he knew that much, but it still felt so nice. 

He couldn’t enjoy it for too long though.

You pressed a kiss onto his lips, not one that was long, only a peck but Miles flinched back a little too fast. It made your eyebrows furrowed together at how he was acting. He couldn’t kiss you. Couldn’t even be with you because this wasn’t his universe and you weren’t his girlfriend.

“Estás bien? You’re fuckin’ actin’ weird, Miles”

Before he could even get a word out, the front door suddenly swung open. 

“Ay, Y/N.. you’re still here? I thought you would’ve gone home by now?”

“Sí but I figured I would keep Miles company ‘til you came home.”

“Well, I appreciate it.”

Miles blinked and looked over at the woman that was supposed to be his mom. 

What happened to her eyes? Why weren’t they green anymore? It was weird to him. 

Well, he already knew why her eyes weren’t green. This wasn’t his earth. This was someone’s earth. It wasn’t his and he hated it.

“Woah, Miles, what’d you do to your hair?”

“Huh..?”

“You like braids now? You’re no longer tender-headed?”

Miles blinked and squinted at Rio, almost like he was confused on what the hell she was talking about. And he was. 

What the hell did she mean tender-headed? He had been tender-headed a day in his life! 

But to make himself seem less suspicious and weird, he just nodded his head. The best thing he could do right now was blend in. 

“He’s been actin’ weird since he got here”

Miles looked over at you as he talked about him like he wasn’t even there. That annoyed him. He hated when people did that.

“Oh.. well I’m sure me and Jeff will be able to figure out why. Thanks for staying Y/N.”

“Of course.. Let me know if you need anything”

Miles watched as you left the apartment. It was weird. Jeff? That didn’t make any sense to him. Jeff was… dead. Had his mother found another man with the same name? That couldn’t be.

He knew his mother; she would never find someone else. 

Rio suddenly looked over at her son and took a step towards him, inspecting his hair and the way he looked. He was much shorter than before. 

“How did you get here so early? Your father said he was gonna take you home.”

“Uh.. Uncle Aaron took me home?”

Rio stared at him and blinked before she shook her head, moving her gaze away from him. This wasn’t a time for him to be bought up.

“Son, you know that ain’t possible.”

“Huh?”

Rio sighed and shook her head, rubbing her temples and walking into the kitchen. She had no idea what was up with him but she knew that something was definitely wrong. 

He was being so weird. 

“Miles, I know you miss Aaron.. We all do but that doesn’t mean you can just say stuff like that.”

“Sorry?”

Rio sighed heavily and shook her head, clearly fed up with her son’s antics. It was a little annoying how he was acting. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with this. She was too tired for all this.

Miles seemed to notice how annoyed she was and turned on his heels, walking further into the apartment and into ‘his’ room. 

The moment he opened the door, he saw so, so, many fucking posters. God, the room was a damn pigsty. How the hell could anyone live in this filth? 

Miles notices a sketchbook laid on the bed, his body now peaked with curiosity. At least they had one thing in common. He walked over and grabbed the book, flipping through the pages. A lot of them were so random. He took note of all the drawings he had of Aaron and some.. girl. 

Wow. Must’ve been the girl that was there earlier. There were also a few drawings of some other girl in some stupid superhero suit. Apparently this Miles is a fanboy. Totally not weird at all. He had to admit though, his counterpart was really good at drawing. Well, of course he was. 

They were the same person, just a different universe.

Miles could hear talking from outside the door. He slowly opened it and peeked outside, his eyes scanning around the apartment as he saw some guy, presumably Jeff, walking in the front door.

His.. his dad was still alive? Was he not captain here? He didn’t know for sure. He saw another figure behind the man. He was taller and had a wack ass ‘fro.

The other Miles was also here.

Shit.

[bunnyrafe]

https://www.tumblr.com/bunnyrafe/758123355740241920/jj-n-honeybee-argue-then-have-sex-rafe-n

saw this and ran to my notes

The headboard repeatedly hits the wall as rafe slams into you. Your mind going places you’d never seen before. Your eyes rolling back. “No baby look at daddy while he fucks you. Are you sorry for the attitude you were giving me kiddo?” He thought you were going to be his perfect girl and become a sputtering mess with tears rolling down your eyes trying to say “no daddy”. But he was shocked when you responded back to him. “Shut up rafe you weren’t responding back to my text or calls and you expect me to sit patiently and wait for you to answer. I can’t fucking stand you sometimes. You’re the worst-“ before you could finish your sentence he slaps you across the face. ��Wanna finish what you were gonna say doll?”

A little backstory

rafe had been away and was working allll week. you were lucky if you heard from him while he was gone but luckily today was the day that he came home. part of you wanted to be a good housewife and wait patiently while he was on his way home but the other half of you wanted to act like the most craziest bitch ever because your husband wasn’t responding to you and he was supposed to be home hours ago. You knew that rafe would never cheat on you or do anything to hurt you but for some reason option two took over in seconds. You called rafe at least 20 times. No answer. Sometimes the phone would go straight to voicemail. Your blood boiled at the thought of him ignoring you willingly. You started texting him. The text started off sweet. “Daddy I know you aren’t ignoring me.” “I miss your voice pls call me back!” then went to “Rafe mother fucking Cameron you better answer the fucking phone right now before I take this ring off and leave your ass.” Now that text got his attention. “You’re funny sweetie. You gonna keep this act up when I walk through the door?” Before you could text back you heard his keys jingle and the door flew open. “I-Daddy you’re home!” He walks over to you reaching for your neck and guides you into the bedroom. “Stay mad at me sweetheart.”

( ooouu I need to write one for my beloved jj!!! I’ll be back)

LISTEN… IF THAT WAS ME PERSONALLY, HE WOULD’VE BEEN COMING BACK TO ALL OF HIS SHIT IN THE YARD !!! clothes, golf clubs, paperwork. ALL OF IT IN THE GRASS…

just thinking about slapping him back and finishing your thought— “you’re the worst husband,” you babble out in his face only for him to laugh in your own. you both know you don’t mean that. you’re just being a moody girl ‘cause you haven’t gotten dick in a few days and he pissed you off.

but that doesn’t stop him from being even rougher on you, because the next thing you know you’re flipped on your tummy and three of his fingers are shoved past your pouty lips. holding your mouth open so you drool all over yourself while fucks you stupid from behind, forcing you to make the most embarrassing sounds and mascara heavy tears to run down your heated cheeks. he grumbles something about how you “don’t deserve to even fuckin’ look at him” yet you couldn’t care less... once a brat, always a brat.

[linos-luna]

Just a little Pain ❣️

Jimin x Reader

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, Pain Kink, slapping, hair pulling, biting, roleplay, dick slapping, handjob, gropping, overstimulation, some biting

————————————————————————

Your boyfriend was unpredictable. And discovering his odd kinks was interesting to say the least. Recently you found out he likes pain. Masochism? Is that what it’s called? He wants you to hurt him. To slap him. To pull his hair, to spank him. He loves it.

He had been teasing you all day. It drove you nuts. Yes he was needy but, for you, it was embarrassing.

Sitting at a restaurant for lunch with his friends would’ve gone fine if he wasn’t constantly teasing your thighs. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He wants you to get mad at him. He loves when you’re angry.

~~~

“Jimin, what was that about?!” You asked quite annoyed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, jagiya.” He replied with a smile while locking the front door. “What did I do?”

You know what he wanted. So you sighed and went to the bedroom to change.

Perfect. He thought.

Jimin followed behind you and as you pulled off your shirt, he hugged you from behind.

“What are you doing?!” You said, obviously startled.

“What are you talking about baby?” He laughed while pulling on your bra strap and letting it snap back on your skin. “I’m just hugging my girlfriend.”

You winced as he pulled the strap and let it retract again. He’s really testing your patience.

Once he grabbed you over the crochet of your pants, you realized the game he wants to play; it’s one of his favorite scenes.

“What are you doing, baby? Did I say you could do that?” You said while gripping onto his wrist as he unzipped your jeans.

“I’m just touching my girlfriend.” He smirked while slipping his hand in you pants, only for you to squeeze his wrist.

“Don’t be a pervert…”

But he ignored that, opting to use his other hand before you pushed him off.

“Pervert!”

“And?!” He taunted while getting close to your face.

You delivered a hash slap to his cheek. Pausing for a moment to gage his reaction. Sure he likes this stuff you felt like that was a pretty hard hit.

But he reacted just as expected. Smiling deviously at the accelerating action. He loved it.

“Again… do it again, bitch…” he said while panting.

“What a little pain slut…” you said with a chuckle while grabbing him by the chin and pushing him back to sit on the bed.

“And?”

“You want more?” You scoffed while pulling him by the hair. “You’ve been nothing but a dirty pervert today.”

“And what are you gonna do about it?”

“Well perverts get punished, of course.” You shook you head and slapped him again before pushing him on his back.

You let your legs free from the jeans and got on top of him, sitting right at his waist. You leaned in and started kissing him. Jimin kissed right back and moaned as you lightly tugged his hair so that you could dominate with your tongue.

He gripped on tight to your ass, his nails practically digging in from over the fabric of your underwear, hoping to get a reaction.

“Let go of me Jimin.” You grunted as you slowly grinded your hips into his clothed cock.

“Make me~”

With one hand you pulled his hair back and the other you positioned it around his throat, lightly squeezing.”

“Come again?”

“Make me.” He gasped with a devilish smile.

You let go of him, moving down to lower his boxers. Without warning, you took hold of his cock and he practically cried out.

“Aw what is it, baby?” You teased. “Can’t handle a little touch?”

“Agh… fuck…” he moaned softly while throwing his head back, his hands clawed at the sheets and and he moved his waist, only for you to lightly tap his cock when it hardened.

A high pitched moan echoed in the room as you did that and Jimin had his eyes closed while biting his lip.

“Fuck… doitagain-… hurt me-…” he panted while babbling slurred sentences. “Hurme… fuh-fuckin bitch-…”

“Oh like this?” You gripped on tight to his hard cock and started jerking him off, at a fairly fast pace.

He whined at the feeling , eyes rolled back as he let out unfiltered noises.

You knew he was close to coming and immediately let go. He cried out in annoyance while you quickly lowered your panties. He was about to complain before you suddenly sank onto his throbbing cock, making him cum almost instantly.

“Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck y/n—!” He gasped before you pulled him up and pulled his hair so that you can suck hickeys on his neck.

It was all so overwhelming for him as he was still inside you and you keep pulling his hair for access to his neck.

Every time you’d move, even a little, he’d let out a whimper and tried holding onto you.

“Are you done, baby?” You whispered against his neck. “Are you done being a perv…?”

When he didn’t answer right away, you nipped at his neck, practically stunning him.

“Yes!”

“Hm?”

“yes!” he pleaded.

Your boyfriend held on tight to your hips and started grinded you against him. You let out breathy moans as your eyes rolled back. Jimin couldn’t help laughing while watching you lose yourself. Your mind was foggy and all you could focus on was getting that high. Although your boyfriend was already moving you, he loved as it seemed your hips had a mind of their own.

You threw your head back when coming and slumped forward as your energy was gone.

“Looks like im not the only pervert here, jagiya~” he smirked while stroking your hair. He was satisfied. He got exactly what he wanted. He always knows how to get what he wants…

[majoryeager104]

Shark week hc’s featuring bf Touya

Summary: Touya as a bf when you’re on your Period 

A/n I’m on my period soooo

Warnings: cursing, blood obviously, second hand embarrassment from twice, he burns your heating pad to ash lmao

I’ve seen some ppl say he’d be clueless (“what size pussy u wear”)

Nah

Fuyumi would’ve explained everything to him with Rei when he was younger

Plus, he’s probably had to pick up pads and chocolates for Toga during his time with the league

Yk all emo big brother like ☝️🥹

Needless to say he’d understand 

And he’d be really thoughtful too. 

His openness might be awkward 

But it’s the thought that counts 

Especially when he’s letting you use his whole body as a heating pad 

But if he’s honest he just enjoys the cuddles 

If you’re in the league, he’ll shamelessly cover for you on missions

And by shamelessly I mean he’d legit go to shiggy and be like “yeah I’ll take her mission… well it’s that time of month, and she’s in the shower right now…it’s like The Shining in there”

WITH NO SHAME

Shiggy would probably understand too though tbh but that’s a story for another time

He’d definitely have toga hang out with you while he’s gone,

And when he gets back he’s got candy and pads, and ibuprofen 

Hes not shameless with that part tho

He’s well aware that if any of the league saw him being so thoughtful they’d make fun of him

So he usually comes in with a bunch of Walmart bags stuffed in his jacket

Which is usually hilarious because it’s crinkling like crazy and he’s just acting like it’s not there

Being aLoOf

The fuckin emo 🖤 ⛓️��

He walks in, drops the bags on the bed, and flops over into your lap, letting you play with his hair while his quirk warms you up

Seriously he’s like a heating pad but a million times better 

If you bleed through your pants, he immediately spots it (he stares at your ass all the time it’s nothing new)

Gives you his jacket

Acts mad at first “you should really take care of that, we’re in public” 

But when you’re alone “sorry doll I’ll get you the heavier flow pads next time, now c’mere”

Bc he can’t stay mad when it’s not your fault

And if anyone sees it too? No they fuckin didn’t 😀

Will threaten to kill them if they mention it

Them being Twice bc he’s the only one who would

Not in a mean way he’d just be like “OMG Y/N ARE YOU OKAY YOUR ASS IS BLEEDING”

And Touya would do that really slow creepy ass side eye/head turn

And Twice never mentioned it again

Ofc after that Toga walked Twice through it

Because unlike Touya, Twice never had anyone to explain that stuff

But once again that’s a story for another time 

But I think Touya would be really reassuring if you got embarrassed 

In his own way ofc

“Calm down doll, it’s natural, so shut up and keep walking…I got ibuprofen in the car…”

Back to heating pads because I just had a thought

He wouldn’t let you have a heating pad

He’d get so jealous 

“Wtf am I even here for then”

Probably burned it and payed you what you spent on it

“See? I’m clearly the better candidate for keepin ya warm, that crap didn’t stand a chance”

With a big ass maniacal grin

(This was playing while I wrote it lmao, I don’t make the rules 🤷‍♀️ plus you can never go wrong with Arctic Monkeys ☝️😤)

[usmsgutterson]

Achilles Heel - Givenson

oooookay!! This is the second chapter of this work. If you missed the first chapter, this chapter probably won't make sense, and if you'd prefer to read it on ao3 here's the link!

fic type - this is, once again, like if hurt/comfort and fluff had a weird child of neutrality

warnings - just like the last chapter--alcoholism and it's adverse effects are discussed (heart attack is mentioned a lot in this one and once is used for a dark humour-y kind of joke, the root cause for it is revealed and specified a bit more, and the seizure is mentioned at least once) tims time in the military is discussed a little, PTSD manifests as an anxiety attack and a bit like a flashback at the same time. Tims childhood trauma is discussed so physical abuse, as well as mental and verbal abuse are mentioned. There are a few mentions of guns in correlation to said trauma and a lot of talk about booze in the general sense.

“Well,” Rachel says as she enters Tims apartment a week later, having gotten in using the spare key he’d surrendered to her seven weeks beforehand. “That explains the kitten formula in your truck.”  

He’s lounging on his couch wearing an old pair of cargo pants and a shirt that he’d gotten when he first joined infantry two and a half decades back—it's one with the military logo on it as well as his unit number from those days. It's one of the only things he got from his military days apart from the PTSD and it's only something he wears when there's just about nothing else, but it's laundry day in the Gutterson manor so he's decided to give himself a pass.

“Found her in the engine of my truck,” Tim says. “After my last appointment with Alexander. Any new leads?”  

“WIth the Boyd case? Nah,” she says, objecting to sit on the floor in the space between Tims couch and his coffee table because Tim has sprawled out over his couch and has the kitten on his chest. “Figured I’d get Raylan’n we’d come and bug you for a while, try to get inside Boyds head a little bit.”  

“There in lies the reason you left the door unlocked,” Tim nods, having noticed she left it unlocked after she came in. “Are Dunlop, Stevens and Marino invited to this meetin’ of ours?”  

“They don’t know Boyd as well as we do,” Rachel shrugs. “What’s the furballs name?”  

“Her name is Roulette,” Tim answers. “Found her in the engine of my truck so I figured it would be funny if I named her after a transformer, and she was almost named Megatron, so I feel like I could’ve done worse.”  

Roulette is a cat of five weeks old who’s got a calico pattern of primarily orange and black with some white on her chin, stomach, and paws. She meows at pretty much all hours of the day and has given Tim’s heart a few jumpstarts since he’d found her in the engine of his truck, as well as having costed him nearly $600 in vet bills across four appointments.  

“You could’ve,” Rachel shrugs again. “She’s cute, for what it’s worth.”  

“Yeah, and she keeps me off the booze,” he says. “You told Raylan the full story yet?”  

“No,” she says. “Figured I’d leave that to you. Has he stopped trying to get details?”  

“Mostly,” Tim shrugs, rapidly opening and closing his fist in lieu of enrichment for Roulette so that he doesn’t have to think about Raylan more than he already has been.  

“You gonna tell him anything, ever?”  

“The way I see it, he doesn’t know right now and he can go on blissful in his ignorance. If I tell him, he’ll just get mad nobody told him when it happened. Act like he woulda been on a plane down here with the drop of that stupid fuckin’ stetson had you or anyone else called.”  

“You don’t think he woulda meant it, had he said it?”  

“Not really, no,” it kind of hurts to admit, but it’s the truth. Tim doubts that Raylan would’ve been at his bedside had Rachel called him, doesn’t even think he’d pick up the damn phone had Rachel gone against Tims wish and called him anyway. “I think that he’d say he would’ve, but I also think that if I looked him in the eye when he spoke, I’d see that he wouldn’t mean it.”  

“You’re only sayin’ that because of that weird little affair you two had goin’ on on and off while he was around,” Rachel says. “I notice things, Tim, and it was damn near impossible not to notice that.”  

Tim smiles, his chest slightly aching. “Careful, Rachel,” he says cautiously. “Don’t need my heart givin’ out at the reminder of that whole mess.” He says it with a clear intent in his head—get Rachel the fuck away from talking about their relationship, even if it means they talk about The Incident again,  

“Don’t make jokes like that,” Rachel says. She grabs one of the stupid decorative magazines Tim keeps on his coffee table for appearances sake and thwacks him over the head with it before she sets it back down and Tim finds himself celebrating it silently. Talking about the attack and the seizure is, for some reason, better than talking about Raylan. “Your heart attack wasn’t funny, neither was seein’ you in the middle of a damn seizure covered in your own fuckin’ vomit. I know you like a bit of dark humour, but—you gotta understand my perspective. You lived, sure, but when I walked into that bathroom, I thought you were gonna die on me. I can’t have that.”  

“I know,” he says, letting his voice take on a gentle tone as Roulette the kitten bites his finger. It’s a tone reserved for Rachel and Roulette alike, something that Raylan Givens has never heard a day in his life. “I’m sorry.”  

Waking up from the heart attack was scary enough—he couldn’t remember much about before he’d passed out apart from the drinking and the chest pain he’d thought nothing of, figuring it was a harmless side effect of the booze. Then he turned his head to the right and saw Rachel and guilt opened it’s gnarly mouth and damn near swallowed him whole.  

He doesn’t think about it much—can't unless he wants to go down a spiral that'll induce a second heart attack—but Rachels perspective of the events of that night were chronicalized so that Tim could try and jog his memory and try as he might, seven weeks gone from the day he woke up in the hospital and he has yet to forget the words she wrote on that piece of paper.  

He remembers the way her hand shook as she wrote in the notepad, remembers the steeled, determined expression on her face, completely and totally determined not to show weakness despite it all.  

“It was terrifying,” Rachel says. “Don’t you ever put me through that again.”  

Roulette the cat curls up on his chest and starts purring up a storm, and Tim reaches out, gives Rachels shoulder a squeeze.  

“You and I have spent the last eleven years since Raylan left saying that the only way we’d ever leave Kentucky was if we were transferred out by force, or we were shufflin’ out the same way we’d shuffle off’a this mortal coil, in a body bag,” Rachel says. “You promised me that once, that you’d stop being reckless.”  

“I didn’t keep that promise,” Tim says. “I know. I’m an ass at my best, Rachel. You know that.”  

“I like that about you, usually,” Rachel shrugs. “I can’t shake it, though. Every time I walk in here I get scared I’m gonna see you in the bathtub again, vomit all over your chin and your heart having gave out. I’m sorry to be a burdensome chief and friend, but I can’t deal with that alone anymore.”  

“You’re not burdensome,” Tim says. “Do you—would it—you need me to tell Raylan, for your sake, don’t you?”  

Rachel smiles. “If you wanna tell him, you can.”  

“If he wants to tell me what?” Rachel and Tim both flinch at the sound of his voice, and the sound of the door closing behind him wakes up Roulette, who protests the sleep disruption by getting on her feet and meowing as loud as her little lungs will let her.  

Tim sits up. Raylan sits across from Rachel, his gorgeous brown eyes piercing Tims in a way that makes the ache in his chest intensify.  

Tim looks at Rachel silently. Please don’t make me tell him.  

Rachel looks back at Tim. I don't think you have another option.

Tim takes a deep breath in, tries to will himself into some version of less irritated.

“You need to do a better job of making your presence known when you’re entering someones goddamn home,” Tim says, tone a bit angrier than he means for it to be. “You--it’s not—you are not allowed to freak out. No yelling, no glaring—if I see your nostrils flare or one hand gesture while you talk at me, you are picking your ass up off my floor and getting the fuck out of my apartment.”  

Roulette settles in Tims lap. Tim takes a breath in, and Raylan nods.  

“Must be serious,” Raylan says. “You have a deal.”  

“Seven weeks ago I had a heart attack,” Tim says. He watches Raylans face contort in shock, then disbelief, then anger all the space of thirty total seconds. “Rachels the one that found me, and if it weren’t for her, I’d probably be dead.”  

“And--what--” Raylans lips form an angry line and he directs the anger at Rachel first. “He had a heart attack and—seven weeks! Seven weeks and neither of you called?”  

Tim immediately takes the defense. “Hey! Don’t do that,” he says. “Don’t. If you’re gonna be angry at anyone, be angry at me. Rachel isn’t the one at fault here, and neither of us called because we didn’t see the point. You have a life in Miami, Raylan, forgive me for not calling because you have a kid and a job and a thousand different reasons as to why you wouldn’t’ve been able to drop everything and visit a coworker you haven’t worked with in more than a decade.” By the time Tim finishes, he’s out of breath but he decides it’s worth it.

He can see that his words touch a nerve, too. “You know that’s bullshit,” Raylan says. “I would’ve come running the minute Rachel asked, or the minute you did. You had a heart attack, Tim. That’s not just anything. You could’ve died.”  

“He didn’t,” Rachel says. “Calm your ass down, Raylan. I need you to focus on Boyd right now—he could be headin’ this way and we need at least an outline of a game plan to take to Mariano, Stevens and Dunlop in the morning. You know him best, so you’re at least in charge of ideas.”  

Raylan turns his glare to Tim. "I want details about this, the second you get a chance," he says. "You don't get to tell me you had a heart attack like it's as simple as asking me about the damn weather."

Tims lips form a line. He bites the inside corner of his mouth in silent protest and hates how every single emotion Raylan feels or has ever felt is displayed in his eyes. As he gives a begrudging, mildly aggressive, singular nod, he sees care that goes back a decade and anguish lingering somewhere in Raylans eyes and almost hates him for still caring after so long.  

“Fine,” he says. “Now--let’s do our jobs for an hour or two, why don’t we?”  

Rachel reaches up, scoops Roulette out from Tims lap and tucks her into the space under her chin. “I like that idea,” she intones, looking pointedly at Raylan.  

- 

That night, they do manage to get somewhere and the following day, Tim wakes up feeling refreshed and optimistic.  

Rachel does the mean thing, though. She sends him and Raylan down to Harlan to interrogate witnesses as a few have come forward with having seen Boyd down at what used to be Johnny Crowders bar, before Boyd had him killed across state lines.  

The drive to Harlan starts out silent, but Tim can tell Raylan has things he wants or needs to say, so half an hour in, he breaks the silence of his own volition.  

“All right,” he says, putting his hands up in mock surrender and glancing at Raylan, who’s sitting in the drivers seat. “That’s it—I'm done dealin’ with this. You say what you need to say to me while we’re in this damn car, and when we get to Harlan and have to step out, we get real civil with each other real quick because I spent a decade in the damn military. I can handle silences, Raylan, just as well as I can handle havin’ to sleep on a freezin’ mountain in Afghanistan or sitting in the scorching heat in Iraq, but I can’t handle ‘em when it’s clear you have shit to say and you expect me to listen but you ain’t sayin’ none of it.”  

“Why didn’t you call?” Raylan asks.  

“I didn’t think you’d come if I did,” he answers. “You say that you woulda but—it's like I said last night. You have a job, a kid, and a thousand other things keepin’ you in Miami. I didn’t think you’d come, didn’t wanna risk gettin’ my heart broken again, and didn’t wanna waste your time when I came out the other end just fine.”  

“What triggered it?”  

“Got home at midnight, drank my way through three entire bottles of Jack Daniels, a sixer of beer and an entire bottle of peach wine that my sister had sent along last Christmas,” he answers. “Guessin’ that was too much. My BAC was 0.38.”  

Raylan glances at Tim. Tim returns the gesture and their gazes meet.  

“You should’ve called,” he says. “Knowing you how I do--”  

“How you used to,” Tim cuts. “Knowing me how you used to know me—what? What are you gonna say, Raylan. You best make it believable because if you know me as well as you think you do, you know I’m gonna be able to see right through it if you’re lyin’ to me. Don’t do that.”  

“Knowin’ you how I used to to—the Tim that I knew woulda called in a heartbeat,” Raylan says. “That guy—he knew I’d drop everythin’ to get to him, no matter how far away I was.”  

Tim leans back in his seat, looks at Raylan through a lense more skeptical than he ever thought himself capable.  

“Yeah?” He asks, voice even, tone practically showing off the fact that he’s looking for a fight. “I don’t think you knew the guy I was back then, either. If you think I thought that way for longer than half a second before I came to my senses, you’re as dumb as I was goin’ into the fuckin’ military thinking it’d fix all of my issues instead of load me up with more of ‘em. I was eighteen then, Raylan. I have an excuse. What excuse do you have at 56?”  

It’s a low blow, and Tim knows that. It hurting as much as it does is the intention, and the hurt is, just like all of his other emotions, clearest in Raylans eyes. 

“That’s hardly fair,” Raylan says. “I would’ve--”  

“You keep saying that,” Tim cuts. “You’re saying it like you’re trying to make yourself believe it. I’ve got a decade of military experience under my belt and sixteen years total with the Marshals, Raylan. I pick up on that shit. Half of the sentences you’ve spoken have begun with ‘I would’ve’ like this is some sort of hypothetical. It’s not.”  

Raylan goes to defend himself, but Tim cuts him off again.  

“It’s not a hypothetical. I drank myself into a heart attack, had a seizure amidst that mess, and then when I woke up in the hospital after almost dying with Rachel sitting at my bedside as the one and only person who has consistently stuck by me whether or not I wanted her to, I told her not to call,” he says. “That--that is the reality. I don’t give a damn what you think you would’ve done had I called, whether you’re telling me that you would’ve dropped everything so that you can eventually get to a point where you believe the shit you’re spewin’ or if you actually mean it. I’m done with this conversation, Raylan. I had a heart attack, I didn’t want you there, and that’s that.”  

He’s lying, but at least he acknowledges that with himself.  

He’d told Rachel not to call Raylan and when she could see that Tim wanted him there, she offered to do it anyway. He said no again, insisted that she go home so she didn’t have to deal with the mess he’d made of himself by drinking himself into heart failure. When she refused and pretty much put her foot down, Tim had known he had no choice. He was in bed for the following few days recovering, a big part of him yearning for Raylan more than he’d ever admit to anyone, let alone Raylan himself.  

“Just--let me have this one thing,” Raylan says. “If you’d called, or if you asked Rachel to, what do you think would’ve happened?”  

Tim glares at Raylan for a second but gives in nonetheless. “All right,” he says. “Fine. I’ll play your game, but we’re doing this my way. Had Rachel been the one to call you after the ambulance had carted me off, she’d’ve called you at about quarter to seven in the morning. It’s pretty much obligation to have your ringer on in our line of work, but would you have picked up the phone that early?”  

“Yep,” Raylan says. Tim searches his face and finds he’s telling the truth.  

“All right,” he shrugs. “Would you have, our history with or notwithstanding, called Dan to tell him you wouldn’t be able to make it to work that day and gotten on the earliest flight you could get?”  

“Absolutely,” Raylan says, even nodding that time. If he’s trying to convince Tim, he’s doing too good a job at it. “Without hesitation.” 

“And--would you have stayed for at least a week, if not two, had I asked?”  

“Yeah,” Raylan gets this really sincere look in his eye when he meets Tims gaze again, and Tim swallows thickly. It’s shit like that that got his heart broken a decade past, and he’s not about to let anything like that go down again, especially not when Raylans only in Kentucky because of Boyd and would otherwise be content in avoiding it for the rest of his life. “You done?”  

“Yeah,” he says. “All right—let's play it your way. Ask me your question again.”  

“If you’d called or asked Rachel to do it, what do you think would’ve happened?”  

“Well--the Raylan I knew a decade ago would probably take at least a few minutes to answer the phone especially if he were asleep and even more so if he’d taken the day off,” Tim answers. “I don’t think you woulda picked up and I think Rachel would get tired of dialin’ your number after the fourth time, which is being generous as to her patience as I know it. I think, despite the fact that I’d had a heart attack and wasn’t picked up til about quarter to seven, even if Rachel called, when you missed the call and woke up about two hours later, you’d be in my hospital room for four thirty just like she was.”  

“Four-thirty ain’t bad.”  

“I had a heart attack and was carried away at almost seven. Had Rachel called when the ambulance came and you failed to call her back until about nine then you didn’t get into Kentucky til 4:30, it’s still bullshit. Gate to gate, Miami to Lexington is two and a half hours. What exactly coulda been more important than flyin’ in to see me that leads you to wait about four hours to catch a plane?”  

“Callin’ Dan, first off,”  

“Takes fifteen, tops. Provided you don’t shower, you can do it while you get dressed.”  

“Then Winona--”  

“That is another fifteen minutes,” Tim says. “Half an hour if it’s your week with Willa. Adding in that time, ten to two o’clock is still three hours.”  

“You’re being pedantic,” Raylan says, exasperated.  

“You used to love that about me,” Tim says, and he knows it’s the truth. Raylan had said it a few times back in the day and it's because of how odd it was that the compliment had stuck with him.

“Didn’t particularly like being your partner for a year and a half, then two years later being the rebound to your rebound.”  

“Our--” love affair? Relationship? Those words to describe it feel juvenile because he knows it was more but can’t find the word to describe ir, and partner doesn’t feel right, either. “--Thing had ended eight months before I even so much as thought about Mark like that. Do me a favour and either shut up or avoid making this into something it’s not.” 

“I’m not--” Raylan shrugs. “I just—you shot Colt over it, Tim.”  

“My motivations for shooting someone who was pointin’ a gun at me are absolutely none of your concern,” Tim rebuts. “And--it wasn’t like that.”  

“What was it like, then?”  

“It was—damnit, Raylan,” Tim laughs. He and Raylan began a weird friends-with-benefits type deal around the tail end of his first year in the Marshals service. That lasted all of a year and a half, give or take, and eight months later after they'd stopped, into his fourth year, Mark had called him for something unrelated to the debts he owed from his days of active addiction.  

He and Mark had only really fooled around a bit but in true Tim Gutterson, unwaiveringly loyal to anyone who he thinks deserves it style, he felt something real and true. It was there, and it lingered for far longer than Tim was comfortable with, and when Tim had shown up to the scene where Mark and his dealers body were both dead, that feeling evaporated without choice but simultaneously without incident.  

“How long after you shot him were you on my doorstep, just barely sober enough to make the drive over?”  

“Almost eight months,” Tim grits his teeth.  

“And--what you two had—the grief you felt, it was gone by then?”  

“You and Mark are two different people,” Tim says. “I’ve never spent much time on grief, Raylan, so yeah.”  

“Did the military teach you that?”  

“Bein’ raised in southern Indiana with siblings who ain’t spent a day in their lives worth their salt and parents who are somehow worse taught me that,” Tim rebuts. “I grieved Mark once, now shut up before I shoot you and have to grieve you twice.”  

Raylan, at least, does as Tim asks. He stops talking and the car stays quiet for the rest of the trip down to Harlan.  

- 

Raylan does the nice thing and lets Tim deliver the news, citing a need for coffee and telling him he’d bring one back around for Tims sake because they’ve finally gotten somewhere.  

Tim knocks on Rachels door with a big, stupid smile, and when she lets him come in, her expression remains neutral.  

“You get a lead?” She asks.  

“We did,” Tim nods. “A few, actually. Locals at what used to Johnnys Bar but is now a veterans bar named Kingstons gave us leads that put Boyd near Louisville but comin’ in hot.”  

“You said you had a few,” she says. “Please tell me you got one better than that or that someone elaborated with specifics as to Boyds current whereabouts even though the initial lead already put him in Harlan?”  

Tim sits down in the chair opposite her desk, grin big and wide and stupid—he's gotten himself a victory. It’ll be something positive to bring up with Alexander, who asks him for something positive at the beginning of every single Friday session.  

“Other lead puts Boyd a little more’n four hours outta Harlan,” Tim says. “Holed up in a pay-by-the-hour style motel called Charlies out in an Indiana spot called Crawford. The first lead I gave you was elaborated by someone—that lead says Boyds in Louisville but will be sniffin’ around Lexington in a couple’a days, when it becomes safer to do so, and he’ll only stay around Lexington for half a day before he heads down to Harlan, gets in touch with a few old contacts he used to have and waits it out.”  

“What’s Crowder got to wait for?”  

“More’n a decade gone and he still wants Raylan dead,” Tim shrugs. “Says the good patrons at Kingstons, anyway. Raylan and Ava are his biggest targets and try as he might, he apparently can’t find any leads as to Avas whereabouts. I say we put Nelson, Marino and Stevens on the Crawford lead.”  

“’N you, Raylan and I go check out Louisville? I like that brain of yours even when I know it’s primary objective is avoiding Indiana in it’s entire,” Rachel laughs. “Only took two weeks’n we managed to get somewheres good. Did the Louisville lead get you anywhere else?”  

“A few of his local haunts, all of which are primarily way out in the country,” Tim says. “It’s not a lot, but it’s good. More than we’ve had the last two weeks, at least.”  

Rachel nods. “You’n Raylan managed not to kill each other,” she says. “That’s good too. You two have it out?”  

“Yeah,” Tim nods. “We did, kind of.”  

“Kind of?”  

“He said his piece, I said mine,” Tim shrugs. “It’s not—we're not—it's not like it was. No hard feelings or let downs or—well—I fuckin’ hate it when you put me on the spot.”  

“Yeah, you do,” Rachel nods. “But Raylan texted asking me to make sure you don’t leave til he comes back with your coffee, so I’m doin’ it for his sake. You got an appointment with Alexander tonight?”  

“Eight through nine,” Tim says. “Or nine thirty, or ten, depending on how long I need to talk for. Raylans gonna come over once I’m done with it, and we’re going do the thing we would’ve done had the—thing—never happened. We’re gonna catch up for a bit, and the only Corona I’m having tonight is nonalcoholic.”  

“Nonalcoholic booze and pizza from—let me guess—Antonios? You lucky, lucky bastard,” Rachel smiles.  

“Yeah,” Tim nods. “How much longer do you think Raylan is going to take?”  

“The VFW is like—it's closer to the office than your apartment is,” Rachel says, tone skeptical. “What is it? Does coffee still make your chest hurt?”  

“Only if I drink it right after a run or right before or right after I’ve eaten,” Tim says. “Or if I drink too much. Just kind of—wantin' to get there, you know? They do have free decaf.”  

Rachel laughs. “What is it, really? Don’t lie to me and tell me you miss Roulette.”  

“Is a guy not allowed to miss the kitten he finds in the engine of his truck?”  

“Who, Roulette?” Raylans voice comes through the room as he enters and Tim jumps.  

“Damn it, Raylan!” He curses. “I had a heart attack seven weeks ago. You are not allowed to do that to me.”  

“Yeah,” Rachel says. “Roulette the kitten.”  

“She’s cute,” Raylan smiles. “Was always more of a dog person, but cats are the self sufficent type so I always debated gettin’ one.” 

“I didn’t pick her,” Tim says. “Found her in the engine of my truck after therapy.”  

Raylan sets down a drink tray and passes them out accordingly, giving Rachel hers first and then passing Tims to him.  

“You said coffee makes your chest hurt—I did decaf,” Raylan says. “Dunno if it’ll make much of a difference, but I figured I’d try anyway.”  

“What would—what would thirty-four year old Tim Gutterson say if he learned that forty-five year old Tim Gutterson couldn’t drink coffee without chest pain?” Rachel asks, tone teasing.  

“He’d make fun of me, no doubt,” Tim shakes his head. “Probably do the smart thing’n assume it wasn’t just age and then lose his shit at me upon learnin’ I drank us into a heart attack at forty-five years old. Then again—that dumbass has still been out of the military less time than he was in it for and he has no fuckin’ clue what’s comin’.”  

Raylan laughs and sits down to Tims right. Tim takes a sip of his coffee and hates how perfect it is. 

“Time check?” Tim asks. Raylan glances at the clock.  

“Quarter to eight,” he says. “We’ve got you for what—five more minutes, if not eight, am I right?”  

“I never went to the VFW while you were kickin’ shit up here through the beginning to the middle of the twenty-fuckin'-tens, how the fuck do you know that?”  

Raylan shrugs, smirking gently. “Guessed,” he says. “Not my fault I got it right.”  

“Bullshit,” Tim sing-songs. “Nope. No way. Did Art call? He knows I’ve been goin’.”  

“You still talk to Art?” Rachel asks. “I mean—more than once or twice very few months?”  

“He calls me every other week,” Tim shrugs. “Found out I was booze free and just about demanded he be my sponsor. I think he’s discovered how boring retirement is in the last decade since his age forced him out of the service, and now he’s projecting that onto me.”  

“You tell him about ‘The Incident’?” Raylan asks.  

“No,” Tim answers. “With how big your goddamned mouth is, I was hopin’ you’d do it.”  

“Whys he think you’re sober, then?”  

“I dunno,” Tim shrugs again. “Haven’t asked and don’t intend to.”  

Rachel laughs. “What’re you gonna do, if Raylan does tell him? Say Raylan assumes your accusation and insult are open season on tellin’ Art everything he knows, and then Art calls you all pissed off?”  

“I’m going to be dodgin’ those calls like Avas managed to dodge the US Marshals service’ locatin’ her for the past eleven goddamned years,” Tim says. “Not for eleven years, though. Eleven days, at most.”  

Rachel laughs a bit more, and Tim checks the clock before getting up in a manner that’s almost too excited.  

“Ah, it would be time,” Rachel says. “You meet Raylan and I back here for seven, all right? Louisville is only an hour and some change away, but we need as much daylight as we can get if we wanna get Boyd before he does some serious damage.”  

Tim smiles, nods, grips his to-go cup of coffee just a tad tighter than usual, and heads out.  

He makes it to the VFW with a minute to spare, is walking through Alexanders open door for eight on the dot.  

“Something positive,” Alexander says in a voice that’s almost singsonging it but not quite there.  

“We got a break in the case we’ve been workin’,” Tim says, closing the door behind him before he plops down onto Alexanders couch. “Two weeks of nothin’ and finally—we got somewhere! I’m so happy right now I could just—I could pour all of the booze in my fridge out like I’ve been meaning to do for seven weeks now.”  

“I really hope you’ll do that once you get home,” Alexander says. “Now for the heavy stuff. You been thinkin’ much about your time in the military in recent?”  

“Not since Wednesday,” Tim smiles, tight lipped, and moves into a laying down position so he can stare at the ceiling because doing that, oddly, always helps. “Bet I’m about to start, though, aren’t I?”  

Alexander gives a hearty laugh. “Monday and Wednesday we focused on your time in the infantry,” he says. “We’re not doing this structured in any particular way and you’ve had a rough few weeks and I thought we’d hit infantry first, child and teenhood trauma second, then rangers trauma last. Today is child and teenhood trauma day, likely much to your chagrin.”  

Tim takes a deep breath in. A full hour spent talking about all the ways in which his father failed him? He can handle that. Totally.  

“Okay,” Tim nods.  

“All right,” Alexander says. “First and foremost, when did you get the idea to take the ASVAB?”  

“I was—it was January of my senior year,” Tim says. “I’d grown up in an awful environment and joinin’ the military seemed like the only way out. I figured I’d take the test, join on the day I hit eighteen and then be set to go from there.”  

“How bad was your life at home?”  

“My father drank almost all the time,” Tim says. “Every single day, unless my grandparents came around.”  

“How did your mother feel about the drinking?”  

“She hated it,” Tim says it earnestly, almost hates admitting that he’d been around his family long enough to make that observation because that—by default, that means the eighteen years he’d spent under their roof were absolute shit instead of just inherently bad or difficult. “She and my old man used to get into fights over it all the time.”  

“Did those fights ever become physical?”  

“No--my father always told my brother and I traditional shit like ‘boys don’t cry’ and ‘don’t ever hit a woman!’,” Tim sighs. “My brother turned out to be worse about the alcohol than my father was, and I turned out gay, so my hitting a woman has become something of very little concern over the years, but that’s besides the point. My father never laid a hand on her; verbal and psychological abuse suited his needs just fine.”  

“And you thought that joining the military was your golden ticket?”  

“Yeah,” Tim nods. He clenches and unclenches his fists, needing something to do to distract his mind, even if that distraction is momentary. “I did. I was seventeen when I took the test, barely more than eighteen when I joined up.”  

He’d joined the week after he’d graduated, four days after his birthday. He could operate a gun and knew the precise mechanisms and tools required for cleaning one before he could legally drink in the very USA that he spent a decade serving.  

“How did your family feel about it?”  

“I left my childhood home the night before I was due in Georgia for basic,” Tim answers. “I’d told my mother—she was scared shitless but she knew there was nothing that’d stop me. My father tried by attempting to barricade me into my bedroom from the outside in, but I just climbed out the window. Neither of them liked it, but they had different reasons.” 

“What are those reasons?”  

“My mother didn’t want me to go because the idea of me dyin' scared her shitless,” Tim laughs. “She didn’t wanna lose me to the military, and no matter how much I reassured her, nothing did the trick.”  

He sits up, slides his hands down his face and plants his elbows on his knees.

“My father hated it because it meant he couldn’t control me anymore, and he didn’t realize that until he saw what little of my life I cared to bring along tucked into a suitcase, the rest of it sold or donated.”  

“Did you ever see your dad again after you left?”  

“He died before I got back from Basic,” Tim shrugs, leans back, tries to force himself to relax even though nothing does the trick. “I wasn’t even there for the funeral.”  

“Do you wish you had been?”  

“Not even a little,” Tim admits, laughing a bit, fighting the anxiety that’s creeping up on him just like it always does when he talks about his childhood or his parents, or those last very tepid few days before he joined the military. “My mother played the grieving widow and my siblings and I grieved in our own ways—Keith took to the very menial amount of booze that my father had left behind, I went to the shooting range everyday until my anger subsided and Lisa poured herself into her degree. My mother inherited the house, I inherited a few of the guns he’d wave around to scare us as kids, my brother claimed his booze collection and my sister claimed the law school textbooks he kept in his study.”  

“All right,” Alexander smiles. “Seems like we’re getting somewhere and we’ve barely been here fifteen minutes! Nice.”  

Tim knows it’s a ploy to get him to relax—he can feel the tension in his shoulders, the way that his teeth are clenched and his jaw is set.  

“Yeah,” Tim nods. “I don’t wanna lose momentum and I’d rather just get this out in the open so I don’t have to think about it—so—next thing.”  

“Tell me more about your families structure,” Alexander says. “As a start.”  

“Lisas the oldest—she's five years older than I am so she’d be fifty by now, if not close to it,” Tim says. “She sends booze at Christmas in a bid to win me over so I give her the house but we don’t talk so I can’t really remember her birthday anymore. Keith is forty-seven.”  

“Do you and Keith talk?”  

“He calls me once every few months,” Tim shrugs. “I should really stop pickin’ up the phone, but—he's my brother, you know?”  

“It can be hard to let go of family ties,” Alexander nods. “How did your siblings feel about you bein’ in the military?”  

“Keith thought it was cool. He joked a few times that I’d be the only one in our family to ever make it out of Indiana. He was right and sometimes I hate him for it a little bit, you know?” Tim says. “If Lisa felt anything, she didn’t show it—the opposite of love is indifference, and sometimes I think that's all she's ever felt."

Alexander laughs a little. Tim, absently, finds that he'd rather shrivel up and die than divulge more of his childhood or teenage years, but he does it anyway for his own sake.

Alexander asks him more about his family, and Tim tells him everything he wants to know, dissociating his way through the process because of how mentally draining it gets.  

He talks about his first ever time seeing a gun—he was seven, his father was pissed, and he was threatening to kill everyone in the kitchen a la murder suicide—and then the first time he ever watched his father get so angry over something he felt the need to scream—he'd been nine, it was because a candle his mother had lit had been left to burn til the wick was put out by being submerged under the wax—and then went on further to talk about the explosive reactions his father had to every academic failing during his middle and high school years, the way that his father used to smile when Tim would flinch and how by the time he was seventeen, he stopped flinching and learned that just staring straight ahead was the best option because eventually, his father would get bored of his torments and either go locate his mother or go to his study.  

When he’s done, it’s 9:30 and he’s drank the coffee Raylan had gotten him in it’s entire. He leaves the VFW with a certain kind of weight in his chest, the kind he’d’ve drank away if he could still drink without fearing one sip would send his heart into overdrive.  

- 

Fourteen hours later, they have a lead at last. Raylan and Tim are cooperating with each other and despite the fact that Raylan, ever one to enjoy the front passengers seat, has been booted to the middle back seat of Tims truck, things are going decently.  

After spending a good three or so hours in Louisville, they have a concrete lead that will place Boyd in or around Harlan come nightfall. He’ll be at Kingstons bar and Rachel has decided to have Tim and Raylan there while she waits posted with Dunlop, Stevens and Marino just down the road from Avas old place, just in case Boyd swings by on the off chance the lead was wrong.  

What used to be known as Johnny Crowders bar among the locals is now Kingstons, a spot not too unlike the VFW: only vets and their guests are permitted entry.  

He and Raylan linger at a table near the back, Tim nursing a nonalcoholic modelo—which, having drank the alcoholic version of the same, he will never understand Rachels preference for Modelo over Corona or just about any other beer on the market—and Raylan is drinking a bourbon.  

They’re in a spot just hidden enough to not be visible from the door but visible if you take a seat at the bar and decide to look around a little bit. Raylan isn’t wearing his hat, thankfully, and Tim is dressed as nondescript as he can be, wearing a pair of black jeans, the same green carhartt he’d decided to wear upon going back to the VFW for therapy, and a black leather jacket because it’s fuckin’ mid-October in Kentucky and therefore, cold.  

He’s deep in thought like he always is whenever he’s surrounded by people who’ve had experiences similar to his own, and Raylan is quick to pick up on that.  

“Relax,” Raylan says, his voice gentle. “I can see the cogs turning in your fried veteran brain.”  

“My brain’s not fried, my heart is,” Tim rebuts. “And--there are no cogs to turn anyway. I’m fine.”  

“Are you?” He’s thinking about his time in the rangers after hearing a few guys his age talk about their time only a table or two away, so he’s not, but he’s not going to tell Raylan that.  

“Yes,” Tim says, albeit a little forcefully. “I’m good. You don’t need to worry about me—I'm asking you not to worry about me.” 

In truth, his mind is on his second tour in Afghanistan and his second-last tour with the military as a whole. He’s somewhere between the glint of the scope on his rifle and laughing with Mark on base, feeling his shoulder touch Marks as he finally eases up enough to be capable of sleeping through the night.  

Raylan shrugs. “You seem jumpy,” he says. Tim picks up the Modelo, takes a sip and fights his grimace. He’s going to finish it no matter how much he dislikes the damn thing—it costed him too much not to drink it entire.  

“I’m not,” Tim denies. He has half a mind to tell Raylan the truth but he doesn’t. Raylans not a vet, he wouldn’t understand, he works in law enforcement. but he’s always lived a civilian lifestyle--or at least these are the excuses Tim uses to justify it. Raylan has spent his entire life a civilian, never gone a decade without it like Tim had done willingly when he thought the military was his only way out of a crappy home and a crappy city in Indiana.  

“Okay,” Raylan says. “Just--talk. You look to me like you’re three seconds away from wanderin’ off on me entirely and I would really rather not have that happen. We’re going to talk about The Incident.”  

“I thought we were done with that,” Tim realises that Raylans doing this because he can sense that something is off, and even as his mind runs through active zones of combat from his days working infantry, he’s grateful for it.  

“I told Art,” Raylan confesses, the words whispered and the guilt evident in his tone.  

“Well,” Tim laughs, grips the Modelo like his life depends on it as he tries to remember what Alexander had told him to do when his trauma was manifesting in the form of brutal flashbacks and anxiety. "I’ll be avoiding his calls for the next several days.”  

“Are you havin’ a panic attack?” Raylan asks, voice calm and even. “It looks to me like you’re havin’ a panic attack.”  

He takes a deep breath in, his mind somehow trapped in three separate places all at once.  

“I dunno,” Tim says. He takes another sip of the Modelo, tries to calm his mind again, only to find it doesn’t work. He takes in another deep breath, and then he feels the rough but still sort of soft skin of Raylans palm against the top of his left hand, and that—it just—fuck.  

It snaps him right back to reality, works better than any deep breathing ever has, and he snaps his hand away despite wanting that contact. Raylan, he decides, does not get to touch him like that. Not given their history coupled with the fact that he'd never have come back to Kentucky if not for a case or the fact that it'd been Rachel who'd asked him back around.

“Okay,” Raylan says. “I told Art about the heart attack.”  

“How’d he react?”  

“He was angry you hadn’t told him,” Raylan says. “He said he’d mention it eventually, but only if you didn’t first and he got sick of waitin’. He was shocked Rachel didn’t call either, but that doesn’t surprise me at all. I suspect she ran the necessary channels by you, and you vetoed everyone except her and maybe Dunlops presence in the—what, three, four days you spent in the hospital recoverin’?”  

Tim takes his lip between his teeth, the sound of Marks laughter and the smell of gunpowder fading just to a point where they’re tolerable.  

“Just Rachel,” he says. “No Dunlop. Just her.”  

“You two have been workin’ together since—well, forever,” Raylan snorts. “And neither of you have transferred out?”  

“Contrary to what you believe, Kentucky is not a universally hated state,” Tim laughs. “I’ve lived here for sixteen years and I like it just as much as I did my first week. Rachel and I have had a running joke since before you came around—only way either of us is leavin’ Kentucky is if we’re transferred out and forced, or if we go at the same time we shuffle off this side of the ground.”  

Raylan laughs in turn, and Tim sighs. It, really, doesn’t feel like Boyd’s gonna come in. Maybe the lead they had had fed them bullshit?  

“Where abouts did you grow up, anyhow?” Raylan asks.  

“Indiana,” Tim shrugs. “Small town about ninety miles outside of Corydon. Smaller than Corydon, too.”  

“How much smaller?”  

“Corydon has more than three thousand people,” Tim says. “My town has barely enough to breakeven with 1000, and that’s on a good day.”  

Raylan snorts, and of course, their conversation somewhat slows. Raylan gets up to piss and Tim heads out to smoke the last cigarette in his pack, sticks close to his truck in the process. He idly checks his phone, sees that Rachels found nothing while waiting at Avas. He reports back that he and Raylan have yet to hit the jackpot, finishes his smoke down to the last puff and puts it out with his foot.  

Instead of going back in, searching for a trashcan, he objects to put the empty cigarette carton back in his truck. He stores it in the center console, figuring he’ll just throw it out once he’s home and the only person who can judge him for smoking at all is himself.  

As soon as he closes the door of his truck, he’s knocked out cold.

[localplaguenurse]

Can I just say that im obsessed with the last line on the divorce fic????

“The house is silent”

Because like ????? This implies that the house was an entity in itself, an entity born from the love between zandik and widow and consequently extends itself towards Theo

And it’s like something you don’t really notice when reading the fic because we’re so focused on the characters that we neglect the house itself

Anyways just like their marriage, the house is no longer as lively and in the end when widow takes Theo with her, the house becomes silent

ahhh I wanna say more but I haven’t eaten so gtg eat bfast

“The house was an entity in itself” “we neglect the house itself” ohhhhhh you are about to get a not at fucking ALL normal reply about that-

So as of late I have become hyperfixated on this one indie game developer Kitty Horrorshow. She creates a lot of psychological horror games/experiences, most notably her haunted cities collections and the game most would know her for, Anatomy. The game, if you haven’t played it or watched a let’s play of it, has you walk all around an abandoned house looking for tapes where the narrator describes the house and breaks down how the different rooms and parts of the house can relate to Anatomy. I fucking love the dissection vs vivisection rant just for the closing line.

“When a house is both hungry and awake, every room becomes a mouth.”

I wanna just like mention for some fucking reason in like my previous Dottore wips, when I had trouble writing him, for some reason reading the transcript of that game just worked? Like I don’t know why the game about a haunted house where the house IS the haunting helped me write about a blue hair with pronouns mad scientist war criminal, but I wasn’t gonna complain. It’s a good game.

Anyways this is just a long way to say that vibe was only like partially intentional. I meant it with the stars for sure, saying how they stare at Dottore in contempt because now they’ve lost their purpose. But you noting how the house has gone silent because Zandik and Widow created it and Theo and Widow’s presence kept it lively? Not intentional, but god I wish it was because like the set up is there. Dottore noticed they were gone because he couldn’t hear breathing. He knew they were gone because of the absence of life. God that would’ve been so fuckin smart. Aughhhh.

Why am I being not normal about a house. Who cares it’s self indulgent for me. I get to sprinkle in my psychological horror references and reminisce about how I wanted to be a horror author when I was little.

[crimsun-n-clover]

my mom is PISSED at me for reacting like a normal fucking person to her treating my cousins’s attempted rape as a cautionary tale

my cousin is concussed in a hospital after fighting off an attempted rape. my abuelo called my mom to complain about my aunt not being at the hospital despite her being in a different state and my cousin being an adult. sure, head trauma is serious, but she is with medical professionals. her mommy being there to be overbearing doesn’t change shit besides possible emotional support.

my abuela wants to drop everything to fly to see her. i understand that, but if ANYONE heard that something had happened to me and decided to show up while i’m definitely in pain and out of it to be so far up my ass that i’m tasting them, i’d lose my fucking mind. abuela and abuelo are LIVID at my aunt and felt so strongly about it that they called my mom to throw a fit as if THEYRE the ones victimized and in pain.

this isn’t fucking about them??

and now my mom had to tell the whole story to me and my father. so she can go on some fuckin soapbox speech about being alone at night. disgusting behavior. that’s so violating?? her victimization isn’t our fucking cautionary tale and is also NONE OF OUR FUCKING BUSINESS.

when i told her as much, shes mad. i said i would emancipate myself and completely denounce them if they went and had some gossipy little hissy fit in the family group chat AND insinuated that it’s my fault that i was assaulted. if i was almost raped and my parents show up and my whole family flies out to “support” me?? when they shouldn’t even fucking know in the first place???? they’re never hearing from me again. 

they went on about some “as a PARENT” shit as if that’s the point at all. violating her even further than she already has been for some fucking feigned moral superiority over my aunt is repulsive.

hell, i feel gross. i shouldn’t know this. her trauma was some little “you’ll NEVER believe what just happened” story time from my mom once she hung up the phone.

mom kept saying “i’m not TRYING to start a fight” and “i’m sorry you FEEL that way”

no. you should just be sorry. you shouldn’t be “sorry” over my REACTION to your behavior. you should be fucking sorry because you’re a bad person. you’re asking for a fucking fight if you’re gonna talk about my cousin like she isn’t a person. i barely even know her and i’m willing to get yelled at to defend her because ANYONE should be willing to pick a fight to defend someone in this situation.

she knows i’m right. it was “i understand that” until i said that she was participating in something wrong. reprehensible in my opinion. and i’m fucking right about that.

“well, stevie, she shouldn’t have been at a rest stop at night ALONE. i would’ve gone into a restaurant or something” okay???? this isn’t about you. i can’t fucking believe how she’s treating it like it’s about her and implying that my cousin is to blame.

maybe i’ll just denounce them and cut contact anyway. this is a great example of why i wouldn’t want them in my adult life.

[renboob]

i appriciate the sentiment but your ass wouldn’t have the guts to kill jack or than i think ur being would actually just implode  

in summary- i was a bit pissy at them for leaving With Out Saying Anything- except for to you which- i saw that pos-t it would’ve been real fuckin nice if you’d’ve let me know- but i was pissy and they just Kept misunderstanding why i was mad and it just wasn’t getting through and it was fucking infuriating

and if you think that my response to this shit wouldn’t be murder then maybe you didn’t know me as well as you thought- because- that is something i am *very* open about dave- ((tws below read more))

like i full on admitted to killing like- 5 random people after that argument i had with raeva forever ago- and after they decided to tell me they hate me? i Also killed like 2 people- that was only meant to be one but i had no fucking idea they had someone over- i killed jay- not from the mineshaft- bc i got upset about ravea leaving again- which- is the girl from town that’s been missing for- what?- over a year?- the politician that i mauled’s younger sister- I’m sure her case’s gone cold by now- i dont know- i dont give 2 shits- there’s no way they didn’t re-open it tho- p sure relict ended up dumping her body in the dumpster for the police station just to fuck with ‘em- absolutely no way she was recognizable until they did a DNA test or whatever- dental records or some shit- sure its on the news somewhere- and it’s not your fault- but i fucking maimed like 12 people after you left- albeit i was- not okay then- i dont even think i used a fucking proper weapon- one of my claws is still fucked up from it getting hung and me not realising until it was Way too late-

and thats just off the top of my head- there’s been plenty more-

i dont know if you just didnt realise- or wanted to pretend i wasnt- but you really should not be surprised that my first reaction was to kill someone-

and i think you missed the detail where i said it’d be so ethan could shrink me.

what the hell is happening over there?

im fucking loosing it! but i can certainly tell you whats not happening! (me being mean to llyr) (i would never do that) nd i mean its just a joy- absolutely amzing- i lobv receiving anonymous asks that make so little sense wit no label or indicator of who sent them or whe- oh bay bee squorl i feel like we had a WHOLE argument after the last time you didn't sign ur ask

[kiwanopie]

boyfriend!Bakugou 🤝 best friend!Bakugou = thinking being annoying is a love language. Technically a prequel to this and this.

“Are you…?” You turn your head at him from your seat at the cafe table. “Are you eating my konsume? That was in my purse.”

Bakugou slides another chip in his mouth carelessly as he keeps himself still laid back against his seat, barely looking in your direction as he scrolls through his phone. “Don’t leave your purse just anywhere on the floor then.”

“I put it in between us.” You kiss your teeth as he reaches into the bag again. “Literally for the exact reason you’re eating out of it now.”

“Well I bet you feel real fuckin’ stupid now.” He snorts. “What made you think I wouldn’t-“

Bakugou shoots his hand up high in the air when you suddenly lunge forward to snatch them away.

“Tch, loser.” He jeers. “Aren’t you supposed to be fast?”

“I’m gonna be so mad at you if you ate them all.”

He clicks his tongue. “Who cares if I did? They’re mine now, anyway.”

“You can’t just be a bully and steal things!” You frown. - And you’re nearly completely over his lap as you reach for the snack in his hands, kissing your teeth when he divots his torso to sneak his hand in it again and full out whining when he holds it back in the air.

He straight up laughs in your face. “You’re so fucking easy. - If you want it so bad just make me give to you. You’re a fuckin’ siren, aren’tchu?”

“I shouldn’t have to use my quirk just to get my things from you! Were you really so hungry that you had to go into other people’s purses?”

“Hungry enough to get into your purse.” And Bakugou snickers at the way your face falls when he crumples the empty chip bag. “What are you even so mad for? I bought this, I can just get you another one.”

“But we’re having lunch now.” You pout, still woefully hovering over his lap. “And that was the last one of those they sold in the vending machine here! Now I’ll have to wait until we get back to the library...”

“Fine,” He shakes his head. “Then I’ll get you something else.”

“That’s not the point! You can’t just steal my snack!”

Bakugou rolls his eyes. Like you don’t get your sticky fingers on something of his every other day. Let’s not pretend he didn’t graze his hand on a couple of his mechanical pencils while he was rooting around in there. A few miscellaneous pieces of gum he’s sure correspond with the empty gaps in the one sitting in his book bag, and even looking at you now the faded royal blue of a worn rubber bracelet - participation award to any half chump loser who flunked the H.L.E.’s (Him) - is very blatantly making rounds around your wrist, nearly big enough to fall off your hand when it’s held in anything other than a fist.

His lips tighten mockingly as he pushes his back off of his chair, eyelids narrowed into slits as he folds his arms tightly against his chest and lowers himself to your gaze until he’s nearly a hair away from your nose.

Bakugou sneers. “Do something about it then, pussy.”

“- O.K. So, can you guys just kiss already? This is starting to get indecent.”

Mina giggles as Sero grimaces over his bento, untucking his perched hand from under his chin as you both part under his unimpressed glare; and Kirishima who’s very poorly hiding his blush under the guise of focusing on his lunch.

“If this is how you two act in public, I can’t imagine what you get away with in the privacy of your own homes.” He shovels a helping of rice into his mouth. “This much sexual tension is making my sushi taste weird.”

“Yeah guys, even I’m starting to get a little antsy at this point.” Mina absently crushes her bagged okaki into fine crumbs. “You obviously like each other? What’s the point in pining anymore? Just get on with it!”

Kaminari frowns petulantly as he fastens his arms around his chest. “I’m too old for crushes anyway. With this much tension - we would’ve gone all the way by the third day.”

“Yeah well, they’d be booking it to the nearest highway and J-stepping into traffic by the fourth.” Bakugou adds and you lower your head to hide the chuckle you’re holding in at your friend’s wounded pout.

“You’re not even denying it anymore!” Sero exclaims. “At this rate, I’m concerned that you two might be involving us in some kinda kink we don’t know about.”

You roll your eyes as you stretch over to reach for the half eaten curry on your best friend’s plate, ignoring him when he protests. “It’s not even that bad, Hanta-kun. We’re just… really close friends?”

Even Bakugou snorts at that.

“That’s it.”

There’s a loud screech that echoes into the walls of the emptying cafe area. A few halfhearted turns of the head that straighten just as soon as they glance, and the four of them stare up at their friend as he tosses his food with a huff.

“I’m not talking to either of you until either fuck or get married!” He points. “I don’t care which of them comes first.”

Mina chuckles as he bends to throw his bag over his shoulder. “Where are you going?”

“To shower. You guys are making me sticky.”

Bakugou’s eyes are on you as you turn your head to watch as your long time friend storms out of the cafeteria, smiling prettily as you stifle any laughs you might have at his expense. But your eyes are on him again as soon as he’s out of sight, and you smirk finding his eyes already in place of yours.

You’re unabashed as you giggle together.

[chocotonez]

skz reaction: finding an item that isn’t your’s in their car (prank gone wrong) (cops called) (3am!!)

a/n: writing this on the plane LMAO, I decided to take a more uhhh general approach to this request? Nothing in the nature made me uncomfortable I just had a lot of ideas, but if you wanted me to do specifically do the items you requested just lmk lovely anon! xoxo

warnings/genre: angst w happy-ish ending, hcs mixed with scenarios, somewhat proofread, crying n arguing sorry

chan

-At first he is absolutely terrified when you pull out a press on nail from below the seat

-Maybe his sister left it there when he last visited?? one of his members trying a new style?? he literally does not know and he’s panicking.

-gaslit to the extreme because he like genuinely believes he did something wrong even if he hasn’t had anyone else but you in his car for the past week

-“That genuinely isn’t your’s? But I swear I haven’t picked up any girl, babe, please, I’m serious that I have no idea where that came from-“

-you started feeling bad halfway because he was tearing up and then you were like, “it was a prank I’m sorry! This is an old nail babe!”

-He was not at all amused

“Are you kidding me?” He laughed dryly, clutching the wheel with white knuckles.

“I didn’t expect you to genuinely believe me, Chris, I’m sorry-“ you tried, awkwardly saving the tik tok to your drafts.

“I just…? Babe, that’s such a stupid joke, I genuinely thought I did something wrong…” You looked over at him, his teeth sucked and face tense. “Never do that to me again, please?”

minho

-It blows up immediately, but like not in the way your video went viral, more of that he was pissed

-not really at you?? but just at the absurdity of the situation because do you really think that he’s fooled by the fact the car smells like the old body spray you stopped using a few weeks ago? not getting past him, sorry babe

-I think it’ll get kinda toxic where he’ll be like “are you literally insane this is ur old body spray, I literally never drive anyways why would I pick up anyone else but you??” Like not manipulative because it’s the truth but it’s sorta mean in the way he says it

-you eventually just get pissed off and admit it was just a prank

-“yea no shit” -him

“How dumb do you think I am?” He clicked his tongue, parking in front of your place. “Seriously, if you wanted to play such a stupid joke on me you have to be smarter with it.” You huffed in annoyance, rolling your eyes.

“You know, if I ever actually accused you of cheating and you acted like this we would’ve broken up by now.”

“No? So it’s not right for me to get mad at me over you just randomly accusing me when I didn’t do anything?”

“It was a joke!” You exclaimed, finally turning to face him. He grabbed your face, kissing you, frustrated and rough, but his grip on your skin was gentle.

“And you think my feelings for you are?”

changbin

-I feel like he’d immediately burst into tears even though he didn’t do anything, he just didn’t like that you were upset cuz now he was upset too even though he has no idea where a scrunchie both of you have never seen came from

-not really begging but more just like pleading for you to understand he genuinely has no clue where tf it came from

-“I’m always at the studio how would I even have time to cheat on you!!”

-you felt so bad and who wouldn’t because making changbin feel bad is actually a crime

“Binnie, I’m sorry, it was just a joke, I put it there.”

“Why would you do that?!” He exclaimed, wiping his face with the tissue paper you handed him.

“I-I’m sorry, I just thought you wouldn’t react like this. You know I’d never really think you’d cheat on me, okay? I love you.”

“Then you should know that I would never do something like that to you. You know I love you, okay? Please don’t ever make my loyalty a joke.”

hyunjin

-silent treatment because he mainly doesn’t know how to react but because he’s also like there’s no fuckin way

-he knows for a fact he would never cheat on you with someone who’d leave their extensions behind.

-“Jagi. Do you really think I’d break your heart over a girl who’s wearing 5$ extensions?”

-your attempts are laughable but he genuinely cannot fathom the fact you’re worried, he either immediately thinks it’s a joke or this is some weird fever dream

-it’s very frustrating to keep trying to fool a man who can’t be fooled </3 so you admit it was a joke

“See? That wasn’t so hard,” he teased.

“I didn’t think you’d figure it out immediately.”

“I didn’t think it was a joke, love. I just know I wouldn’t leave you for anything, especially someone with cheap extensions.”

“You are so…” you sighed, relieved it didn’t blow over in an argument. “I know, and I love you.”

“Love you too, but if you wanna do a prank, at least think ahead next time, okay? Good try.”

han

-bursts into tears pt2

-I think he’s like Chan where he genuinely believed someone other than you left behind a face mask with makeup staining the interior, but also he doesn’t know anyone who wears that lip shade other than you?? but you wouldn’t lie to him about this right??

-it’s not naivety it’s trust, he genuinely believes your worries are valid and it’s sweet but also upsetting to watch him tear up and panic

-you finally just admit you left it there as a joke, and he gives you the silent treatment for a solid ten minutes

“Hannie?”

“…I can’t believe you right now, you’re always playing with my feelings.”

“I’m sorry Han, I didn’t think you’d believe it. You know I’d never think you would cheat on me, right?”

“No, y/n, I don’t know that, that’s why I was freaking out!” He exclaimed, sighing. You looked down at your feet, regretting the idea. “It’s not that I don’t trust you like that, but I don’t know if you trust me.”

“But I-“

“Well I don’t know that. I love you, but it’s hard to remember you love me too.”

“Well I do,” you insisted, narrowing your eyes. “I love and trust you.” He gave you a side glance, biting his bottom lip.

“I love you, and I trust you too. But never do this again, please?”

felix

-he finds the ring before you do, a small piece that you probably wouldn’t wear. it doesn’t rlly look like your style, but oh well

-has never felt fear like that when you respond with “uhhh ive never seen that before?” (lie)

-smh y/n do better </3

-he’s just really confused, he doesn’t immediately realize that finding this piece is an implication he’s cheating on you, so he thinks some rando broke into your car

-you have to sorta push the fact it’s a piece of jewelry that isn’t your’s that was found in his passenger’s seat

-gets very defensive when he realizes that’s what ur implying

-is relieved but not happy when you drop the act

“Darling, you’d know I wouldn’t do that to you, did anyone borrow the car? Weren’t you with your friends the other day?”

“Felix, we never drive anywhere unless it’s you and me!”

“But I’ve never-“ You notice his eyes beginning to swell with frustrated tears, as he ran a hand through his hair. “I just don’t know what you want me to say? I’ve never seen this ring before.”

“Lix…don’t cry, okay? It was just a stupid prank. I put thé ring there.”

“But why would you do that? Don’t you know I’d never cheat on you?” He sniffled, trying to disguise the fact there were already tears running down his cheek.

“I do, that’s why it was a prank. You’d never hurt me like this, okay? I’m sorry.” He embraced you, squeezing you until it was as heart wrenching as he felt.

“It was a really mean prank, darling.”

seungmin

-very defensive when you question him about a bracelet you found in his bathroom that doesn’t look like anything either of you own

-v tired and I feel like he’s not at all the type interested in repetitive and unproductive discussions so he might just snap and it starts becoming an argument

-so insanely done w the conversation that he really might just sleep on the couch

-you just want it to end because it’s getting really touchy so you say it was a joke

-he is not pleased :|, but he takes it a lot better than the others

“That’s the stupidest joke I’ve ever heard,” he blurted, staring at your upset figure. He immediately felt bad, knowing he was a bit harsh, but seriously, it felt like you were gaslighting him!”

“I know, I’m sorry, I don’t know why I did this-“

“No, I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have reacted like this, especially if it was serious.” You hugged him immediately, sighing and muttering an apology.

“You know I trust you, okay? I’m sorry.”

“I love you, don’t ever question it.

jeongin

-yknow I was thinking what about doing this prank and it turns out they were actually cheating on u lmao

-anyways yea he’s annoyed because he thinks it’s a waste of time and he doesn’t even know where that hair clip came from

-but he wants to make sure you feel heard because he LOVES u ok!! even though the things ur saying e stupid and very obviously false!!

-I think he’d be the one most likely to acknowledge this was probably a prank, and then you have to admit it because you know you lost </3

-sure it was annoying but it was cute you tried

“Hey, don’t pull stuff like that again okay? It’s pointless, and you know I hate being mad.”

“I’m sorry, I just thought it would be a fun trend.”

“I know, I’m sorry if I was mean too. I just didn’t wanna be accused of something I didn’t do, okay?” You smiled, holding him closer as he ran his hands through your hair. “When did you get that hair clip anyways?”

“The convenience store.”

“Knew it. I love you more than anything, so don’t expect me to give you up so easily.”

[sbi-au-ideas]

Tommy’s been cornered by SBI, the most well known villains in L’manburg. Tommy is also being cornered by the Dream Team, the top three ranking hero’s. And to top it off, Tommy even managed to get BeeDuo, renowned vigilantes, to join the chase.

So why, in this seemingly inescapable scenario, is Tommy grinning? A huge grin, one that screams chaos and mischief.

His pursuers don’t know what to make of it. A man gone mad?

No. Tommy would never.

Tommy backs up into a vending machine. His fun little group of People Who Want Him Dead- consisting of the 8 most powerful people in the world, who consistently attempt to murder each other on a daily basis- are ecstatic. In fact, they look proud. A temporary alliance formed to take TommyInnit down.

In spite of the alliance, tensions are high. Who will be the first to draw their weapon?

In the end, it’s Tommy himself. Slowly revealing a poker chip hidden in his pocket, he lets the group take a good look.

And then he puts the poker chip in the vending machine, and a hole opens up in the ground, taking him away. It closes so fast it clips a few of the hairs on his head.

As soon as he touches ground, Tommy rushes over to a ready microphone to make his announcement.

“Ayup dickheads!” The camera watching them shows multiple people take out weapons. “Who’s up for a bloodbath?”

He sees beeduo grab hands, intertwining their fingers. “Just kidding, of course, I’m too good of a host for that. You see, I brought you all here for a reason.”

He huffs. “You keep almost killing each other. Which is fuckin annoying for me, for reasons I will not dis-close” he articulates.

“THEN WHY ARE WE HERE?!” Tommy actually winces. He sort of forgot Sirens power was Being Fucking Loud.

“Greeeaaatt question. I can’t tell you why, but I can tell you how to get out. You see, if you numbnuts were paying any attention, you would’ve noticed that I used a poker chip to unlock the exit. Find the one that’s hidden and use it. Ta-da!! You’re free.”

Of course they don’t know that the poker chip isn’t in that room. It’s in a hidden room, in a hidden room. And there are a lot of hidden rooms. They will also have to sort through clues and red herrings. Teamwork is kinda essential if they want to find the chip.

The group takes a moment, with the Blade whispering in Sirens ear. The siren then loudly proclaims, “WHY WOULDNT WE JUST USE OUR POWERS?!”

“Another great question my good man. Although I hate men. You know, it’s kind of offensive that this group has no women. Tsk tsk, points off for mahogany, boooo.”

“ITS MISOGYNY ASSHOLE, AND ANSWER THE QUESTION!”

“Oh right. What was the question?”

“WHY THE FUCK WOULDNT WE JUST USE OUR POWERS TO BUST OUT?!!!”

“Jeez don’t sound so mad. And that’s cuz I’m disabling your powers.” He pauses. “Forever.”

He presses the button that does exactly that, creating an invisible field around the building that blocks powers or hybrids from using their abilities. It doesn’t actually “disable their powers forever” but they don’t need to know that.

The hybrids are made clear as soon as the field is activated. Philza, Ender, and Blade all stumble to the ground for stability. You see, when your ability is partially used to hold up your hybrid parts (i.e. giant ass wings or stupidly tall people) and then you suddenly don’t have that support… well, let’s just say they won’t be getting off the floor for awhile.

Anyone with a mental ability also get a grand reveal. Blade gets a double whammy, clutching his head along with Buzzkill, Nightmare, and 404.

“Wow! 6 of the powerful 8, down for the count! God speed to Siren and Blaze amirite? They’ve gotta carry this group to the finish line!”

Siren clearly tries to scream something, but alas, it doesn’t reach Tommy. “Welp, communications are out boys, looks like you’re on your own! Remember, find the poker chip, put it in the vending machine, and you’re home free!”

Tommy pauses. “Oh, and one last thing.”

He grins.

“I’ve been recording this entire time. If you haven’t escaped by the end of a week, I’ll release this video to the public. Better get along nicely or you’ll all be broadcast!”

[shotorozu]

Hi 🥺👉🏼👈🏼. I saw that your requests were open and I really love your writing. Idk if you’d feel comfort writing this or not, but I’ll give it a shot. Bakugou with a pregnant s/o who is constant doing reckless things (like climbing on top of chairs to take stuff off the top shelf in her closet, or insisting that she’s in perfect shape to do her hero patrols etc) and just over-protective Bakugou. Please if you can. It’s been on my mind for awhile. It would be so cute 😭😭💖

careless & pregnant s/o

character(s) : bakugou katsuki (bnha)

legend : [Y/N = your name] pro hero au! fem! reader, reader is also a pro hero, quirk not specific

headcanon type : a lil angsty, fluffy at the end though (x reader)

note(s) : made y/n stubborn, and lowkey annoying because yeah,, not used to making y/n like this, it kinda annoyed me too at this point since i NEVER write y/n like this. but i gave it a shot, and i hope it’s not too overbearing to the point it makes people wanna log off 💀

and i know you were expecting cutesy stuff but sorry,, this is kinda angsty.

»»————-　♡　————-««

bakugou katsuki

almost passes away on the spot when he sees you climbing on the counter

“what the fuck are you doing— get off the counter, now!” he says as he gently gets you off the counter

you’re strong, a little stubborn. a trait that he has learned to mostly love and sometimes hate, in this case— he hates it.

like what the hell are you doing, going around line a recently freed chimpanzee?? have you forgotten that you’re bearing his child??

he tries— nah, he is soft with you, i swear. especially since a literal human is developing inside of you

literally stares at you like 🤨 when you insist that you’re in a perfect state, and that you’re ‘not fragile’

“i know that,” he states, surprisingly calm “but you literally can’t be doing shit like that. no more carrying and climbing on of cabinets and counters, kay? want the baby’s mama to be in top condition.”

and you agreed, and everything seemed fine

until he gets word that you’ve tried doing hero work while he was gone, and when you were SUPPOSED to be in bed

he’s kinda mad, it’s not even funny.

scenario

you’re stubborn, and he knows that well. if anything, he has grown some resistance to it, and he has even developed some sort of liking towards it

but this is going too far— even for someone like him. he doesn’t know how much he could take it, if you were to continue like this.

when you meet him, he’s silent, and his stare is hard, those classic vermilion eyes aren’t meeting you— and it almost makes you regret doing all of that (which rightfully— you should be regretting it.)

“are you mad?” you dare to ask, and he doesn’t feel like replying. after all— he wants to be patient with you, and he definitely doesn’t want to be saying stuff, only to be regretting them some time later. he might be irritated by your actions, but he definitely doesn’t want to hurt your feelings.

“are you mad?” he repeats, using finger air quotations, “‘course i am. are you nuts?”

you frown, “i don’t want to be a liability. i know that i’m pregnant and all, but i shouldn’t be slacking off. i’m not like everyone else, y’know?”

“that’s it. that’s the point. you’re not like everyone else” the blond sternly says, the room’s deafening with it’s silence, when the blond says nothing for a few short seconds “you’re pregnant. with my kid, i should remind you. maybe at this point, i should just write it on a piece of paper, and pin it on the fridge or somethin’.”

you’re irritated, but definitely not on the same level of irritation as him— let alone, when he first got word of your little attempt. “i don’t get why you’re mad.”

“you don’t?”

“yeah, honestly.”

“listen,” he huffs, “you’re pregnant. ya hear me? what if you fell down when you climbed on those fuckin’ cabinets? what if you went out during patrol, and someone attacked you? do you even hear yourself?” he could feel the volume of his voice increasing, he can’t really help it

“katsuk—”

“no, you listen,” he stares straight into your eyes, making sure that you remember every single thing he has to say. “i can’t have you getting hurt, and i can’t have you stressing out. it’s not good for the little brat. and i don’t care if you think you’ll be a liability, because you’re not!— okay?” he scolds, theres a strong sense of anger sporting his features, but you can tell that he’s trying his best not to unleash it onto you.

he seems too angry to continue, like he has had enough. because as soon as he finishes talking, he leaves— the sound of mini explosions popping echo throughout the room, and the sound of the door closing has you thinking to yourself, and reflecting about your previous actions.

afterwards, he gets kirishima and mina to monitor you in person— making sure you don’t push yourself, or do anything stupid while he’s out

and they agree with him— saying that you really shouldn’t be doing hero work while pregnant, and being reckless during pregnancy isn’t something anyone wants their pregnant s/o to have as a trait.

“he’s right, y’know,” kirishima sighs, “in a way, it must suck being stuck in the house. if i were you, i would’ve done the same.”

“excluding the hero work part.” mina adds, “i mean, what if you did fall? we can’t have the little one getting hurt, right?”

there’s a pit in your stomach— one that’s not your unborn child, and a sense of guilt engulfs you whole

“so, what should i do?” you want to fix things, and you want to reassure him that he won’t be seeing the careless while pregnant Y/N ever again

“talk to him.”

so you do, sitting (or laying down with him,) after he gets home. he’s calmer, and he doesn’t seem mad anymore— the tense mood still lingering around.

“i’m sorry.” you start, “there’s,, really no excusing it. i’m going to be a mother, i cannot be doing stuff like hero work, and just,, being reckless overall. i know you’re just looking out for me, and our child.”

“so, i’ll listen. i’ll really take things easier from here on out.”

“promise?”

“i promise.” a smile breaks on his face, and a sense of relief courses throughout your body

“good. i was gonna strap you onto the bed, if you weren’t going to listen.”

so you complied, and took it easy. and a few months later— you gave birth to a healthy baby!