#i’m not sure people actually think these things through
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3 minutes: Jason Todd x reader
Warnings: SMUT MDNI! swearing
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Hey Jason, can I ask you something?
Y/N and Jason were cuddling and kissing on the couch, things started to become a little heated and then, out of the sudden, she got into a questioning mood.
Obviously, Jason wasn’t exactly content with the unexpected shift, but gritting his teeth and fighting the urge to just continue with the steamy make out session, he nodded with the calm expression on his face.
If only she knew how much it took from him to keep it.
“Sure thing, babe. What’s on your mind?”
“Which girl would you prefer: a skinny, pretty and a little sad, shy one or a little heavier, sassy, funny and energetic one?”
“Well…” he muttered, considering the answer. He was going to be as honest as possible without hurting Y/n’s feelings. “While I suppose initially a pretty girl would get my attention I do like when there’s more depth to people. And sassy humor is pretty much essential for me?”
“Was that a question or an answer?” she teased, catching up with his hesitant tone.
“Don’t you know me? I think that by now you should realize that looks are not everything.”
“Duh!” she chuckled, kissing the tip of his nose playfully “Did you think I was with you cause you are handsome?” she repeated her action “Cause you are not.” The seriousness of her tone was bellied by a grin. “At all.”
“Oh really? And here I thought I was your personal male supermodel.” He laughed wholeheartedly pushing her away as she teased him. “But hey, it’s on the inside what counts. And when it comes to that – you got plenty going on.”
“So I’m like your kinder joy?”
“That’s actually quite an accurate description. Sweet on the inside if you are patient enough to tear through the foil.”
“Wow. Um- I didn’t actually expect you to use such an illustrative comparison….”
“Yeah, that’s me.” He smirked with a face full of complacency. Always in your corner when you are feeling down.”
“Thank you… I guess I’ve been feeling a little insecure lately. Except not the little. And not lately.”
“Good thing you got me here then, huh? Now can we please forget about that and focus on us?”
“Mh. Where were we then?” she whispered seductively leaning forwards brushing her lips over his softly.
“Right where we belong.” He responded by pulling her to him, kissing passionately, trailing lips down her neck, feeling the heat rise again.
“Yeah… Yeah, I think I’m starting to remember something…”
“What do you remember, baby?” Jason whispered against her skin, caressing her shoulder, pulling the strap of her top down.
“Something good…” she hummed, closing eyes and letting him continue his ministrations “Something so good…”
“Care to share?” In a blink of an eye she was laying on the couch on her back, Jason’s hands moving over her belly “or would you rather keep it a secret?” he leaned down nipping at her earlobe.
“Isn't it exciting to know that there are some things that stay just between us...?” She moaned softly, tilting her head and caressing his chest.
“Definitely.” Jason nuzzled his nose into her chest, inhaling her scent “Just you and me having something special.” Once more he captured her lips, tangling fingers in her hair, keeping her head in place, not that she was going anywhere.
The soft sigh that left her lips only aroused him more when he rolled on his back, pulling her with him so she was on top, straddling him.
“And I wouldn’t have it any other way, princess.”
She laid on top of him, her full body weight pressing him into the mattress, tracing hands down his sides, reaching for the hem of his T-shirt. The effect was almost immediate. Jason arched into her touch, his cock hardening at the feel of her fingers on his bare skin.
“You drive me crazy…” he grabbed her waist and pulled her closer, grinding against her, though still in clothes. Regardless, the undeniable need for friction was too much to just lay still. “But I wouldn’t want anyone else doing it to me…”
“I sure as hell hope you wouldn't...” She kissed his neck, grinding her hips on him as well.
“Fuck, I don’t even want to imagine another woman-“ he gripped her hips, continuing the movement.
“Don’t ever mention another woman when we’re together.” She almost hissed, cutting his sentence in the middle, biting on his neck, leaving a hickey and licking the stinging place.
There was no way to deny that her possessiveness and marking the territory attitude only turned him harder.
“I’m not planning on it.” He responded, tangling fingers in her hair, guiding her head lower on his neck. “Besides, I already got the only woman I need.”
“The only one you’ll ever need.” She corrected, raising her gaze on him.
“The only one I’ll ever need…” his tone was hoarse and sultry as he leaned to her again.
Being stopped with Y/N’s grip on his chin.
“Be a good boy and strip for me, will you?” She gave him a look full of fire that left him lost like a little puppy, ready to follow the orders of the owner.
“Well since you asked so nicely—” Y/N moved away from him to give him space to undress and the sudden loss of contact made him almost tear his clothes away. Anything to get her body against him again, not that he was going to let her win this. “But remember, baby, payback’s a bitch…”
“Well then, how about I make it up to you then?”
She slid down, standing on the bed foot, starting to take off her clothing piece by piece. Turning it into a sensual striptease. Tracing her body while removing her shirt, inch by painful inch. Shaking her hips while taking off the skirt. Bending down in a little provocative manner during the removal of her tights.
Almost daring him to make a move on her.
But Jason was hypnotized with her every gesture. Eyes wide with desire, hands clutching the sheets, wanting both to pin her underneath him and to watch this show forever. Evidence of his lust was obvious in his naked body, not that he would ever do much to hide it. If anything – the hardness was rather supposed to be exposed for her to lure her in.
Nonetheless, Y/N seemed to be lost in the world of her own, continuing her dance. Caressing and playing with her breast before unclasping the bra, sliding it off her body, freeing her chest from confinements, and finally -- sliding down her panties. The moment they both were waiting for, one more than the other.
“Fuck, Y/N…. You do know just how to turn me on, don’t you?”
In response, she crawled to the head of the bed, leaning on all fours, while searching for his lips.
“I can’t get enough of you…” his hands slid down her back, all the way to her butt, kneading the flesh there.
“That’s kind of the plan…” she pressed her chest to his torso, brushing over him like a wild feline, tracing kisses down his neck, unrestrained by anything.
“Yes, kitten… show me how you want me…” he slapped her ass playfully, one hand kept on palming her butt, while he used the other to start stroking himself.
“Oh now, you’re doing my job for me….?” With a gentle pat, she removed his fingers from his cock and wrapped her own around him.
“Fuck… fuck, Y/N, yes… keep doing that baby….” He groaned, closing eyes and moving against her hand. “Make me yours…”
“You’re going to be a good boy for me?” she stroked him harder, focusing her eyes on him.
“Yes, yes ma’am, I’ll be whatever you want, just don’t stop…”
“Don't worry my pretty baby... I’m not stopping any time soon...” She flicked her thumb over the head of his cock, gathering the pre cum and pulling it to her mouth, licking the droplets with the tip of her tongue.
“So goddamn hot…” Jason groaned from the back of his throat.
“You can touch me too, my little bird…” she whispered in his ear, sliding a little closer to him once more, making it more than obvious where she wanted his touch.
“Like that?” he cupped her breast, letting the familiar weight adjust to his hand. Squeezing and twisting her nipple in a way that made her squirm and gasp for air. The way he knew she liked.”
“Oh yes…”
“That’s right, kitten. You enjoy my touch, cause it’s the only one you’ll ever get for the rest of your life. You’re mine.”
“Fuck, I love it when you get a little possessive.” She placed her hands on his on her chest, showing him to touch her harder.
“And I love it when you get so vulnerable and open with me…”
“Oh I am open.” She smirked, hooking one leg over his hip, straddling him, but not taking in yet “I am so open. And so wet.”
“I can tell.” He grabbed her waist, trying to pull her down, kissing like a wild man, unable to stop even though she kept on pulling away from time to time. Purposefully. To leave him wanting and needy. “Don’t fucking do that, kitten.” He groaned chasing her lips, his tone both a threat and a pleading and with the sudden pressure on her body she knew she would be sporting bruises the other day. “You know exactly what you’re doing to me, don’t you>?”
“Yeah, I do. But don’t worry, I will abuse my power in all the pleasurable ways.” Y/n hummed lifting her hips, hovering mere inches over his shaft.
Jason’s eyes darkened with desire.
“Abuse me all you want. Just … don’t… fucking… stop… Please…”
“Oh my pretty boy... My heart is breaking seeing you hurting...” She slowly sank to his length. “Is it better now...?” She tenderly brushed hair from his sweaty forehead, observing his eyes falling closed feeling her wrapped around him like that.
“So much better…” he gasped, caressing her back, wanting so much more, but frozen in this moment. He buried face in his hair, breathing in her scent. The smell of her shampoo, the musky aroma of incoming sex and the individual one of her body. Irreplaceable. Hitting all his olfactory sensors, bringing out the feeling of home. She was his home. His everything. “Y/n….” he whispered “fuck…”
“Is it warm for my little bird?”
“Yeah, it’s getting warmer, all right. And most of that heat is because of you.” He nibbled on her neck, leaving love bites on the entire length.
“Cause I’m so hot?” she started rocking her hips on him
“You have no fucking idea.” He grabbed her waist and started thrusting forwards with almost extraordinary energy and enthusiasm. “And I fucking love it.”
As the unexpected force of his movement made her jump and stumble forwards, she instinctively reached for his shoulders to find balance and purchase.
“I got you kitten. Hold on tight.” He catches her easily, pulling her down on him easily, digging fingers into her flesh, guiding their movements together. “That’s right. Ride me, kitten.”
One of her hands rested on his shoulder blade, the other on his chest as she picked up the pace. She closed her eyes, throwing her head back, allowing him to control the movements of her hips while thrusting upwards. His eyes were focused solely on the way their bodies unite, making sure to his just the right spot inside her, to make her yearn, burn and shudder with need and pleasure. So fucking beautiful towering over him, lost in the tryst.
Just like him.
There was something erotic about the way she takes him inside to the halt, and then lets him out. Her body opening to him like a wild flower opens to the sun, allowing its warmth and love kisses to caress its petals.
That’s what she meant to him.
She was like a rose – beautiful but not helpless, with thorns.
Like a poppy – vibrant and standing out amongst other flowers on the meadow.
Like a cherry blossom – magical, soft to the touch but also so ephemeral and fragile if not looked after properly.
He was going to take care of her.
Forever.
“Jason…” she moaned, pressing his head into her chest, running fingers through his hair “Jason…” in the last surge of desire she grabbed his cheeks and looked straight into his eyes.
“Don’t ever stop Y/N—”
“Never-“ she gasped, not breaking eye contact for even a second, seeing the universe in his eyes. “Never-oh!”
As their climaxes approached and hit them like a tsunami wave, bringing the breath of freshness and coolness, but also threatening to wash them off the face of the earth, they held tightly to one another. Like she was his lifeline and he was her rock.
Just like in the biblical parable, that says you cannot build a house on the sand, Jason and Y/N were one’s another solid foundation. A base to build a house on.
For house is not a place, but a person.
Even when he fell back on the bed, exhausted and sweaty, facing the ceiling with mind reeling from love, pleasure and inexplicable need to lock her away from the world, his hold on her waist did not falter for a second. Only now, it was much more tender, softer, though still needy. The irony of the situation was truly textbook. She couldn’t be closer to him and yet, he was still missing her.
After a moment of heavy breathing she climbed off his lap (more like rolled off) and took the rightful spot on the side of the bed, which was hers by design. Even though they were both on their backs, their bodies found a way to one another as she reached for his hand entwining their fingers. Simple gesture, nothing really, and yet amongst lovers sharing true love, if that thing was to ever exist outside of novels, it meant everything.
After a moment, as on cue, they both rolled over to look into each other’s eyes.
“Hi.” She smiled cupping his cheek
“Hi yourself, kitten.” He responded by taking her wrist and kissing her knuckles softly.
“Did you know that statistically the round between couples lasts 3 minutes?”
“Way to ruin the mood with your nonsensical facts, Y/N!”
“it’s not nonsensical. I’m only saying that you are far more than stereotypical to me.”
“Because of how long I can last?” he raised an eyebrow incredulously, but it was quickly followed by a glint of amusement in his eyes. Despite everything he loved being praised on his performance skills.
“Because of everything-“ she whispered lovingly.
“Oh, stop now.” He grunted, pulling her to his chest, forcing her face down onto his skin so she wouldn’t notice the tears brimming in his eyes. “Otherwise I might think you love me or something.” A single tear escaped his eye at the feeling of being complete.
“I’d hate to implant false beliefs in your head.”
“That would be such a mess, right?”
“How about we keep on cleaning it together?” her soft voice reached his ears, serving as a counterpart for his feigned gruffness.
“Now that doesn’t sound so bad.” He smiled, pulling the covers on their entangled forms, allowing himself to fall asleep, knowing she was there to stay.
A comfort that made him feel warmer than under the blanket.
#jason todd x reader#red hood x reader#jason todd smut#red hood smut#jason todd x y/n#red hood x y/n#jason todd x you#red hood x you
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Tagged by @doeeyeseddie and @eddiebabygirldiaz for seven sentence Sunday! Since I haven’t been posting much for tag games lately, here’s significantly more sentences than that from bucktommy acquire a child au. Warning for mentions of past child abuse in Tommy’s family.
Tommy stares down at the dotted line, pen hovering, running the name through his head over and over again and feeling kind of stupid for it. There’s no meaningful difference, at this point, between this last signature and any other of the seemingly dozens of pieces of paper they’ve signed tonight. Nothing really counts until Buck hands it over to the lawyer on his way to work tomorrow. He could sign and then tear the thing up, toss it in the trash. Find someone better to take this on. Take his name out of it, at the very least, hand the kid over to Evan entirely.
Evan, sitting next to him close enough that their knees are pressed tougher, bony, under the table. “What are you thinking?”
Tommy sighs and sets the pen down, tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling. “Can’t we just use… I don’t know, Diaz? I don’t want to give the poor kid my name.”
Buck laughs, just a little, still mostly serious. “I mean, I’m sure Eddie’d say yes if we asked, but- You gave me your name, why’s it a problem now?”
Tommy slides his fingers between Buck’s, surprised as he always is at how well they fit together. “You’re an adult, you can- handle it, carry it. Kinard children have historically been miserable things.”
Evan tilts his head, probably thinking about what Tommy is thinking about: Tommy, beat by his dad who was beat by his dad who was beat by- etc, etc, going back the entire horrible line of them. He’s imagined it before, some medieval peasant kid somewhere, crying into a hay bale or whatever the fuck it is poor folk slept on back then. Evan’d probably know. Maybe farther back than that. A caveman all the other cavemen side-eyed ‘cause he threw his kid in the path of a sabertooth or something.
“Okay,” is what Evan says. “I could get all pop psychology about, like, breaking cycles or whatever, but actually-” he points down the hall. “When I put him to bed tonight he talked literally right up until he was unconscious about all the stuff we saw at the zoo today, that I was in fact there for. Passed out mid word about how we got ice cream and saw a bird. Just a regular bird, that pigeon that landed on the table next to us. I think he was as excited about that as he was about, like, actual lions.”
Tommy laughs, despite his mood. “He was excited about the pigeon.” Milo had been so fascinated by it his ice cream had mostly melted by the time they could successfully prompt him to eat it.
Buck grins. “That kid- our kid- is happy, Tommy. Another talking point? How you carried him everywhere. He got to be so tall, he said you showed him everything.”
“I always hated being too short to see past crowds of people,” Tommy says quietly. “All those legs, everybody strangers.”
“I think most kids hate that,” Buck nods. He leans in to kiss Tommy’s cheek. “You’re not having second thoughts about this?”
“No,” Tommy says, immediate, breathy like it got punched out of him. “No. More than sure.”
Evan nods again. “He’s happy, and safe, and loved because of you. Sign the paper. It’s just a name, and one that I like very much actually.”
“Just a name,” Tommy raises an eyebrow. “So you would’ve been fine with him becoming a Buckley if we had done this the other way?”
“Oh, fuck no,” Buck says, face twisting up lemon-sour as Tommy laughs.
“You hypocrite.”
“Hey, you should have come up with a new name when you married me,” Buck sticks his tongue out, leaning back in his chair like a pleased cat. “Combined them maybe? We could have been… the Binards?”
Tommy squints at him. “No.”
“The Kuckleys?”
“Evan,” Tommy snorts. “No- that’s terrible.”
Buck grins. “Yeah. We really should have just asked Eddie. All be Diazes, it’d fix everything.”
“Imagine the kid’s family tree project at school,” Tommy says, picking up the pen, signing his name as fast as he can before doubt creeps back in. “We’re gonna have to teach him the words ‘non-conventional family structure’.”
Buck laughs and laughs, leaning into Tommy’s side until he kisses up the sound.
Tagging @shitouttabuck @bigfootsmom @iinryer @chronicowboy @butchdiaz @homerforsure if ya got anything to share!
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CHAPTER 11: POISON ROOT
ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader
It disgusted you a little bit, needing them like a fiending addict. Living with yourself and yourself alone was starting to get old, though you aren’t sure how much left of you feels whole. You were always fruit split in between a blade, all the gory parts splayed out by the hand of someone greater than you.
ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: explicit content (18+ mdni) , unprotected sex, drunk sex, threesome, oral sex, cumplay, phone sex, mentions of depression, angst, descriptions of mild gore
ੈ✩ wc: 7k
ੈ✩ a/n: here's a nice and fat chapter for you before we enter The Dark Ages <3
playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist
“Sorry, what?”
Yaga scowls at you and you’re unfazed. Mostly, you’re exasperated.
“I’ve repeated myself twice already,” he says calmly. More so brusquely, but you didn’t care enough to gauge his reaction. You’re too busy processing his words.
“I—I know, I’m sorry,” you mutter. “But why me? Shoko’s technique is way stronger than mine.”
“Shoko’s technique is not your technique. And unlike her, you actually engage in combat.”
“Because the boys forced me—”
He brings a hand to your shoulder in an attempt for reassurance. You freeze.
“Your technique is remarkable. Stronger than you think,” Yaga sighs, almost in resignation. He doesn’t seem particularly enthused about what he’s proposing to you, but you consider that you’d probably worn him down over the past half hour.
He rolls his eyes at the look on your face. Mouth parted like an animal struck with fear.
“But—”
“There hasn’t been anyone with a technique like yours in over ten years. I remember it. I had a family friend as a teacher here first—she talked about a boy that could regenerate cells. Practiced on plants and small animals as a child until he was able to resurrect bigger ones at your age.”
“That boy isn’t me,” you protest, your brows furrowing.
“He isn’t,” Yaga snaps back. “He died, and his death could’ve been prevented. This is why I want you to do this. I want you to be strong enough so that the same thing doesn’t happen to you.”
You swallow and look down, pretending to be interested in your thumbs. Your hands are delicate compared to anyone else’s. You had always admired people who could make something out of nothing, people who sculpted, crafted. Sometimes, you often wonder if what you do could be considered the same.
You haven’t told anyone, but it’s easy to destroy things with your hands. Much easier than it is to build anything up, to heal.
You’d tried it during long walks through the forest. On your way back from solo missions, you’d take routes that were less traveled, needing to clear your head. Once or twice, you remember finding animals that were victims of hunting. Broken limbs, bleeding out too much for you to save. You’d practice the darker parts of your technique, letting quick rot take away their misery.
“For how long?”
“Just two months. July and August.”
You take a deep breath. You could be alone in Kyoto for two months. The boys would survive. At least, you think Suguru would.
When you tell Satoru the next day, it’s a disaster.
“You’re what?”
“Satoru,” you warn, crossing your arms.
Dealing with him is arduous. You knew he would react this way. He looks at you with irritation, nipping at your bare thigh just to see you pout. You were in the middle of reading when he had barged in, craving the scent of your moisturizer on your inner thighs. Needed the whipped softness of your flesh squeezed in between his hands after some heated sparring with Suguru.
“You can’t.”
“That’s not your decision—”
“You can’t. What did that old man say? Some other guy had your technique and died?”
“I’m not going to die!” you huff, rolling your eyes.
Satoru frowns, his blue eyes glowing. He was free of missions for the past week, treating you to dates whenever he could. It seems that you’ve ruined his bliss. That ugly thought in his head festered in his mind again — the need to possess you. Trap you in a glass cage to stay alive forever like you were his enchanted rose.
“Like hell you won’t,” he mutters. “Which is why you’re staying.”
“I want to get stronger, Satoru.”
“You didn’t even want to be a sorcerer in the first place! And now you’re desperate to train with your little cell regeneration? Are you gonna dabble in necromancy?”
You frown at his condescending tone. He isn’t taking you seriously. He never does. Satoru has always had his way of belittling others, but he’d sworn to never do that to you given your history. You take a deep breath.
“It’s just… an independent study, alright? This could help me in the future. I could go to medical school with Shoko or something, you know? If you’re so scared of me dying because of combat, then I could just focus on the regeneration part and—”
“And what about the other part? How you make things rot and disintegrate?” he asks you incredulously, nearly snarling.
“That’s another thing I can learn to control.”
“But–”
“I didn’t have private lessons like you! I’m not a prodigy like you. Can I just have this one thing?” you plead with exhaustion. You can see the way his eyes flicker with a quiet rage, his mouth turned down into a pout. Petulant even at his big age.
Satoru sighs heavily. He nuzzles his face into your hand, kissing the heartline. You almost feel proud of yourself for not giving into him before the conversation began. He’d come into your room wearing a t-shirt with the sleeves messily cut off, exposing the hard lines of his stomach. Just a gaze had ripped away your autonomy, brain dumb at the sight of him.
You wanted to lick him clean before he opened his damn mouth.
“I won’t tell you what to do,” he says in defeat.
“Thanks.”
You sit with him for a while, staring at the ceiling, hair strewn around your pillow. Silence fills the air save for the sound of his breathing. Eventually, he curls into you, nose into your bare shoulder as he mumbles unintelligible things. His mouth in the shape of I’ll miss you.
“I know,” you murmur. “I will, too.”
__
Suguru copes by getting buzzed in the daytime. He liked the hope on your face, how the light hit your eyes in a certain way. It meant something more. He knew that you were worth more.
Lately, Suguru feels like less.
Not particularly less than anyone else, though he knows that he’s certainly less than Satoru just by default. He remembers the mission all too clearly—it’s the only thing that haunts his nightmares. The blankness on Satoru’s face, his willingness to kill a group of people just for the sake of it.
He thought he’d lost Satoru forever, that he’d fucked up the mission by letting a bullet go through Riko’s head. But then, of course, Satoru survived. Of course Satoru found a way to bring himself back to life. Everything should be fine, because Satoru came out alive, and so did he. So did you.
It didn’t feel like enough. The taste of curses started to get worse, if that was even possible. Suguru has been starting to believe that he didn’t deserve anything palatable. That the universe was working against him maybe, because his depressive spirals last longer now.
And you’re fucking leaving.
He knows he can have you whenever he wants, but he likes to lick the taste of you out of Satoru’s mouth.
He bites Satoru’s lip and it makes the boy yelp.
“What the hell was that for?” Satoru pouts. Suguru only grins wolfishly.
“Thought you wanted me to make you feel better. You don’t like it rough?”
“Of course I like it rough,” Satoru grunts. “But you know I hate teeth.”
“On your dick.”
Satoru pauses, rolling his eyes, then sinks his teeth into Suguru’s neck instead.
“You smell like a dive bar. It’s fucking 3 pm.”
“Day off, bitch,” Suguru mutters.
Satoru pushes Suguru against the mattress and spoons him, rutting against his ass. It’s always a little violent with them. You used to joke about it—something about dogs and masculinity. Satoru kept wanting to fuck like it was a cage match. Bull-headed, annoying. For Suguru, intimacy always felt like a car crash no matter who it was with.
“You’re not fucking my ass,” Suguru mumbles.
Satoru whines childishly, of course.
“Ran out of lube.”
“Spit?” Satoru begs, his eyes comically large.
“Fuck you, dude,” Suguru scoffs.
“I’m trying!”
Suguru turns to fall onto the bed facing Satoru, then shoves his head downward. He feels numb despite his throbbing cock. He knows Satoru’s mouth is probably watering for him.
“C’mon,” Suguru slurs, unzipping his shorts. “You need to work on giving head.”
“Hey!”
“Not my fault she does it better than you.”
Satoru huffs but leans over the end of the bed anyway, his limbs too long to crouch on the bed. He spits on Suguru’s cock and pumps agonizingly slowly, coaxing out guttural sounds vibrating out of the boy’s throat.
For once, Suguru feels a little powerful when the Jujutsu world’s boy-god chokes over his dick. He looks down and pushes his head down, reveling in the sound of him gagging, throat slack. Not as good as you, but getting better. The drool makes him look pretty. It matched the glazed look in Satoru’s eyes.
Suguru nearly finishes right then and there, the barbed wire inside of his body starting to untangle until there’s a knock on his door. Of course you knock—the polite girl you are.
“S’unlocked,” he calls after you. Satoru makes a noise. Something in between a moan and a sound of protest.
Suguru likes your wide eyes. You’re out of your school uniform, dressed in a white number with embroidered flowers at the hem that hits halfway above your knees.
“Oh… I—”
“C’mere, baby,” Suguru rasps, his hand reaching out for you. He’s so close, threading his fingers through Satoru’s hair before pulling at his snowy mop.
Satoru coughs, his throat raw. It makes Suguru laugh. You watch like you’re outside of your own body, eyes wide. It was easy for them to get you under a spell.
It doesn’t take long for their hands to grope you, have your dress pooling at your waist so that your bare ass is on display. Heathens. Being with them was always like throwing yourself to the wolves.
“So wet,” Suguru groans, circling a finger in the heat hiding behind your underwear. “Wanted a proper send-off, angel? Gonna miss us all the way in Kyoto, aren’t you?”
You can’t respond when your head is already so dizzy with Satoru’s teeth on your collarbone.
“Don’t talk about that, I’ll lose my boner,” Satoru huffs.
“What a baby.”
“Stop arguing,” you roll your eyes.
Suguru decides to be selfish, his dick already out and pulsing from the tease of Satoru’s tongue. He slides it along your folds, wetness pooling right underneath him. It makes him groan, his insides white-hot. He’d been craving this since he’d woken up this morning. The heat was making his moodiness deliquesce into desperation burning like acid in his stomach. He needed you and Satoru like a bullet begging to be lodged, piercing out of a bannister.
“Not fair,” Satoru grumbles, his knees bent as he gropes you. Rutting against the mattress pathetically as he whines, his desperation puppy-like.
His mouth is salty, leftover from Suguru’s precum. His hair smelled like Suguru’s too—he must’ve been copying his hair routine for the hell of it. It was enough to keep him close without asking to sew himself into the boy’s skin.
Suguru looks down at you and your blissed-out face, vulnerable before he’s even entered you. Your mouth is wet from Satoru’s kisses, spit drooling out of the corner of your pink mouth. Suguru smears it around and already imagines himself pulling out of you to finish there instead, just to see it on your lips. He’d like to see you cry again one last time.
You hum when you’re filled with him. Stuttering hips hitting slack thighs. Soft despite the violence inside him, the little voice in his head taunting him to wreck you.
He likes you like this, first. Daisy-soft, his fingers in your mouth until you gag. Yelping in time with Satoru’s stupid whines.
“Twigs,” Satoru breathes, his hot breath fanning your jaw. “Can I put it in your ass?”
You groan, shaking your head as Suguru howls with laughter.
__
July, 2010
Gakuganji has you on a leash. It hasn’t even been a week and you’ve already gone on two missions, each that ended with you covered in blood, but luckily unscathed. Satoru would have a fit if he knew. The ghost of him hovers on your shoulder at your weakest moments — taunting you, challenging you. You know he wouldn’t be as cruel if he was with you physically, but your psyche conjures him in a way that feels like punishment.
You can’t escape him, either. He’s needier than you expect — visiting you during off times during your weekends, treating them like serendipitous encounters. You don’t believe him, and you shouldn’t.
(He warps to you when he gets in fights with Suguru. When he gets too horny to find someone at a bar, because if it’s not Suguru, it’s you. But he could never tell you that.)
You like to keep yourself busy in Kyoto. Whether it’s immersing yourself in your studies or practicing your technique, you can occupy yourself easily, even if you’re bombarded by images of veiny hands, long black hair, pink mouths. Blue eyes that are too bright, even in your dreams.
You spend most of your time by yourself, anyway. It’s what you need. If not that, then you’re at the local bars with Utahime-senpai, who transferred to Kyoto months before.
“Are you their little plaything?” she teases. You’re loosened up after a few beers, all on her tab, but the mention of the boys sobers you up immediately. You scowl.
“What?” She holds her hands up in surrender. “Everybody knows… Shoko kind of already told me.”
“Of course she did,” you snort.
“I’m just saying, you should be careful. They’re insatiable. And never in their right mind. I could advocate for Geto-kun, but I’m sure Gojo’s already corrupted him.”
Corrupted. It’s a funny notion. You wonder if you’ve been corrupted by both of them. Satoru as your first didn’t bother you. To have Suguru as your second only complicated things. You haven’t known anything else but them. You aren’t sure if this should concern you until Utahime talks about it.
“They’re kind of the same in that way,” you mumble.
“Are they both your boyfriends?” Utahime giggles.
“N-No…”
“So it’s not serious? I know I’m not much older than you, but I still went through a few flings. You shouldn’t let them keep you on a chain.”
“They’re not–”
“Are you sure?” she laughs. “You’ve been checking your phone every five minutes. It’s like they brainwashed you.”
“Hime,” you frown.
“I’m just saying,” she shrugs. “There are lots of men around here staring at you.”
“No, there aren’t.”
“Someone is staring at you right now. Behind you. Blonde. Tacky if he wasn’t like, a little hot like he is.”
“Shut up.”
She gives you a pointed look that causes you to look over your shoulder. Lo and behold, there is a man of that description making glances at you with a cocky smirk. It reminds you of the way Satoru looks at you. It makes your stomach flip.
“See?”
“I’m going to the bathroom,” you mumble.
You move past the crowd to the single stall, plastered in posters from vintage porn magazines and graffiti. Your phone’s about to die, but the group chat with you and the boys has unread messages. It’s mostly Satoru complaining, arguing with Suguru about things that you couldn’t care less about. There are separate messages from them, too. Satoru’s suggestive selfies and Suguru’s words of affirmation. You scoff at the difference between them.
When you return, Utahime grins at you like she’s plotting.
“What did you do?” you narrow your eyes.
“He came over here! I knew it. He was interested in you,” she beams.
“What?”
“Relax. He’s a sorcerer. And I gave him your number.”
“Hime!” You shove her arm lightly, groaning when she laughs.
“You need to get laid by someone who isn’t an idiot.”
You roll your eyes. The many beers are making your head swim too much for you to actually be angry. If anything, your cheeks feel warm at the prospect of someone else being interested in you. It’s not something you’ve experienced in your youth, or now for that matter, since Satoru had sunken his teeth in you so quickly.
Images of him talking to other girls at parties flash in your mind, making you grimace. Maybe Utahime was doing you a favor.
The bachelor in question is nowhere to be found. You curse yourself for not getting a good look at him. A pit forms in your stomach at the idea of him texting you – a handsome stranger who watched you babble drunkenly to Utahime. It occurred to you that you hadn’t even considered yourself something desirable in a context that wasn’t bound to Satoru or Suguru.
On the walk home, the thought consumes you. You aren’t sure if you even know yourself without them. During most of your life, you’ve only known obedience. Intimacy with Satoru was no different, you realize. You were wrapped around his finger since you were children – it didn’t matter that you were apart for years. It would always be him.
You aren’t sure if this bothers you or not. You try to push the thought away, shaking your head slightly as if daydreams of him would fall out of your head. It doesn’t work, not really. You’re drunk. Naturally, you think of his pink mouth. The veins on his hands.
You unlock the door of your room. When you enter, darkness envelops you, which you’re used to, if not for the bright blue eyes that stare back at you.
“Jesus!” you mutter, cursing to yourself once you can get the nearest lamp on.
“What? Not happy to see me?” he slurs, flashing you a sloppy smile.
“Can you at least give me a heads-up before you show up randomly?”
“That ruins the surprise, baby,” he purrs, walking over to you to set his hands on your hips. Trapping you gently.
“You’re drunk.”
“Hm?”
“You’re. Drunk. Why are you here?”
“Had a mission nearby. Then I went to a bar to relax. And then, I thought, warping to Tokyo would take too much for a drunk. Why not stay here?”
“I’m not a motel.”
“C’mon, baby,” he pouts. “You’re not gonna kick me out, are you?”
You scoff, moving past him to sit on your bed and take off your shoes.
Satoru chuckles, taking a seat right next to you, thigh touching yours. “You’re drunk, too. I can smell it.”
“I haven’t even been here for a full month and this is like, the third time you’ve surprised me. What’s going on with you?”
“What? Can’t miss my lover?”
He says lover like it’s an inside joke. He never says girlfriend. Never partner.
“You’re so needy.”
“You like me that way,” Satoru says, his voice velvety. He’s not in his uniform, but a light blue button-down and slacks. You wonder if he’s planned this or if he dressed up for someone else, running to you as the safest option because you’re always there. Always willing.
You’d been ready to sink into your shitty mattress and dream of him. You hadn’t been anticipating the real thing in front of you. It was stupid, how he took your breath away, as if he was still something new to you. As if he hadn’t been in the back of your mind since you were a little kid, always.
“I’m tired, Satoru,” you sigh.
“You sure?” he grins. “You smell like beer. Still trying to have some fun tonight?”
You narrow your eyes at him and he laughs. He comes closer, pinching the meat of your thigh right under the hem of your skirt, chuckling when you swat his hand away.
“So short. Who’s this for, huh?” he taunts.
You swallow back an insult the moment you look down at the way his large hands play with a loose thread of your skirt. How large they are compared to your thigh, the calloused tips of his fingers running circles in your skin.
“No one,” you breathe.
“You cheating on me, Twigs?”
“Yeah, with Utahime,” you roll your eyes.
“I wouldn’t be opposed to that. Sounds hot, to be honest.”
Your cursed energy flares. You hate when he belittles you, but you could never do anything about it. You could only fall into his trap, giving into him the way he knows you will. You don’t even notice that he’s caged you within his arms, his hands settling on your hips as his body backs you into your bed. The back of your knees hit the mattress.
His breath smells sweet. It usually does, but it’s something sour this time. Something citrusy, along with the smell of something much too alcoholic. One of those whiskey sours, you guessed. You don’t realize how drunk he is until you look him in the eyes, his blue irises unfocused despite the desperation in his gaze.
“Of course not,” he grins, leaning in to inhale your scent. “You’d never. My sweet girl. My best girl, right?”
“You say that like I’m one of many,” you scoff.
“Are you jealous?” he rumbles, laughing. “As if there’s anyone else I like as much as you…”
He says girl and you think of Suguru. An exception, just barely. You realize how much you miss him, too.
Your eyes flutter closed as Satoru backs you into your bed, teeth grazing your earlobe. You aren’t sure if it’s him or the drunkenness of your brain. You don’t even notice his fingers massaging your thighs, trailing up to hook your underwear to the side to tease your dripping core. It’s his teasing laughter that snaps you awake.
“So wet… did you know I was coming, baby? Or were you expecting someone else?”
You don’t answer. Your breath hitches at the contact of his eager fingers prodding you, pushing upwards into your pulsating cunt before you can protest. The wounded noise you make only spurs him on further.
“You went to a bar, right? Were you thinking about me when you were there? Got yourself all wound up?”
You don’t reply. He’s too busy pushing his fingers to the very edge, stimulating the spot that makes your knees buckle before you can even form a thought.
You gasp, your mouth parting. Slack-jawed, eyes rolling back as you get closer to the edge before he’s even inside you. It could be pathetic if you cared, but Satoru always made everything around you melt, like you weren’t in your own mind anymore. You accepted being a body that belonged to him, nothing more.
“What’s wrong, baby?” he breathes, his lips tickling your jaw. “You’re so quiet.”
“Satoru,” you sigh. His other hand rubs the small of your back, touching the bare skin underneath your thin shirt.
He digs his fingers in further, knuckle-deep until he hears you make a pained noise. He grins at your broken moan like he’d just won a prize. He doesn’t stop, either — he wanted to hear more of those sounds out of your mouth. It was proof that you were still his, wrapped around his finger.
You try to catch your breath as you lay back on your bed, his strong arms hoisting you up to the wall. You hiss at the feeling of his teeth on your thighs, biting desperately. Satoru was already sweating despite only coaxing bliss from you once.
He claws at you, pulling at the buttons of your blouse and tugging your skirt down until you’re left bare for him. He groans at the sight of your silky skin, the way your chest heaves in anticipation. Everything about you is ripe, ready to break underneath his hands.
He’s less vocal this time when he takes you, pushing into you before you can say anything. He doesn’t realize how drunk he is until he does this, considering every sense of his was numb until he entered you, igniting his synapses on fire.
You whimper from the abruptness, aching between your legs. You think that you would’ve bled if you weren’t so in love with him, but you knew better. Anything from him made your entire body warm and pliant, wet beyond your comprehension. You hated it, sometimes.
But you couldn’t hate anything about it now. You were doused in bliss.
“My girl,” he slurs. “So fucking perfect. Say it.”
You mutter nonsense under your breath.
He bends you in half, your calves resting on his broad shoulders. He chuckles at your pathetic whines.
“Sorry, what was that?”
“Fuck — I – I’m your girl,” you sob.
“My perfect girl,” he mutters, correcting you. He groans when he looks down at you, his hips stuttering. His thrusts are harder than usual on purpose — he’d rather die than tell you that he’d only warped to you because he was having a panic attack in his room alone.
He thought he could get his mind off of you, off of Suguru, who he’d assumed was angry with him all day. There were only dry texts from the both of you. No woman at the bar could compete, even if he managed to get a decent handjob in the bathroom. He could only think of you.
Satoru knew you’d hate him for it. He was disgusted with himself. He feels it now, aching inside the cavern of his chest when you moan his name, knowing he doesn’t deserve a praising word out of your mouth.
He whines, on the verge of tears as he rides out his orgasm in your cunt.
“Shit,” he hisses into the skin of your neck.
You can barely reply before he kisses down your stomach, licking himself out of you with his nails digging into your thighs.
“Satoru, what are you—oh, fuck—”
“Cum for me,” he slurs, lapping at your clit as he pushes his fingers into you. He pauses, mesmerized at the way his cum drips out of you, only for his fingers to push it back into the hilt, up to his knuckles.
You sob in protest, your thighs shaking as he plays with you. He doesn’t stop for a second. It’s almost as if he doesn’t realize you’re there, his heavy-lidded gaze fixed on the way your pussy swallows his fingers.
“S’too much,” you whine, grasping his wrist tightly.
“Fuckin’ love you,” he murmurs under his breath. You don’t hear him. Your body convulses as he continues to play you like an instrument. He only stops when he looks up to see tears pricking your eyes.
“S-Satoru…”
“Fuck,” he mutters. He finally retracts, licking his fingers as he looks at you intensely. “Mine… you’re all mine.”
The glassy look in his eyes is from the alcohol, you assume, but there’s something tantalizingly too real about the expression on his face. Raw with something he only buries inside his gut. He snaps out of it like it’s not something you’re supposed to see.
He grunts when he lays his head on your lap, his fingers digging into your skin possessively as you tremble. You prop your head up on your pillow, trying to catch your breath as you stroke his hair.
“Why’d you get so drunk?” you ask quietly. “Were you alone?”
“Of course I was,” he scoffs, almost defensive. But he smells a sweetness on his skin that isn’t from you, and he knows you’ve already picked up on it.
“You could’ve texted or called me instead of breaking into my dorm.”
“You just hate fun,” Satoru mumbles.
Despite his attitude, he rubs his cheek against your thigh like he’s a pet. He thinks about taking you again, just to shut you up — enough to have both of you sweating, the musk of your sex drowning out any remnants from the bitch that Satoru had tried to use hours before.
Nothing could replace you and he had to live with that.
He nips at your thigh, his mouth getting dangerously close to your core. You whine as you pull him back by his scalp, like the scruff of a dog. Satoru is always insatiable when he’s drunk, which is saying something considering what he’s like sober. His cravings for you are always intense. When he’s not in his right mind, you’re more considered prey than a craving.
You don’t have the energy to respond to him. His warmth satiates you for now as he locks his arms around your bare waist. The light breathing fanning your stomach calms you.
When you wake up, he’s nowhere to be found, but there’s a small floral arrangement on your desk. White orchids and blue hyacinths.
___
August, 2010
You hate bringing anything back to life as much as you hate desecration.
It’s unnatural — though you know that nothing about the Jujutsu world is natural. Everything to you is a myth you have to deal with. After knowing Satoru for so long and seeing what nasty curses humanity could birth, you shouldn’t be stunted.
It makes you feel a bit ill when you realize how much power your hands wield. As ordinary as you’ve always been, these days you often wish that you were the true epitome of it. Only human, unable to see the horrors of the world. Left in the dark when it came to sorcery. Perhaps you aren’t cut out for this, despite how much you tried to convince Satoru you were.
His voice echoes in your mind. His pleading. The ways he wanted to protect you. He’d belittled your technique for a reason, maybe. You aren’t sure you’re cut out for this shit.
Necromancy is only exciting the first couple of times. After that, it’s the reanimation of body parts that freaks you out. It doesn’t matter that it’s the revival of small birds and rodents on a lab table. You feel like you’re playing God and not even doing a decent job of it.
It catches up to you in your dreams. The image of you getting held down, leaving you to resort to your technique. Rotting flesh. Even in your unconscious, the smell is somehow striking, as if you’re really there. Other times, you find horror in the reanimation of corpses under your hand. Split limbs coming together. Limbs that belong to people you love.
Tonight, you’re shaken by the image of Suguru mauled beyond belief. Sacrilegious violence that makes your stomach turn.
When you wake up in a sweat, gasping, the alarm clock on your bedside table reads 1:12 am. You dial his number before you can even come to your senses.
“Twigs.”
“I told you not to call me that.”
You hear Suguru chuckle, deep and sweet like teeth sunken into cake. You’re filled with warmth almost immediately.
“What’s up? Isn’t it past your bedtime?” he breathes.
“Had a nightmare,” you mumble.
“You wanna talk about it?”
“No,” you sigh.
“Fine. What are you thinking about, then?”
“You,” you mumble.
There’s silence on the other end. Despite this, you can still hear his grin. You can see his little smirk perfectly in your head.
“Yeah?” his voice lowers. “What about me?”
“Y-your hands,” you mumble. “You make me feel safe.”
“Is that right?”
You make a small noise that shows your agreement, but it’s noncommittal. You hum at the thought of him. You’re sleep-dazed, partially wishing for this moment that he was more like Satoru. Able to talk your ear off without any effort from your end.
Suguru had always known you differently. He had you memorized as much as Satoru did, but uniquely, given the similarities between your personalities. He knew how you worked and he never held it against you.
Satoru would probably try to pry it out of you. Suguru would already know.
And at this moment, he knows. It’d be infuriating if you didn’t see it coming.
“You’re upset,” Suguru says.
“No.”
“You are. Or you’re pent up, which is also like being upset. Need some catharsis?”
“Maybe,” you mumble.
“Tell me what’s wrong, then. Or tell me about your nightmare.”
“No.”
He laughs.
“Stubborn as always,” he purrs.
“I just wanted to hear your voice,” you whisper.
“You want to hear me be mean to you. You like not being in control. That’s what makes you feel safe, isn’t it, princess?”
“Shut up.”
“C’mon, baby,” he laughs. “Give me something to work with.”
Your eyes nearly glaze over as you watch the flickering lights outside of your dorm. A broken street lamp flashes on and off, shadowing your room in darkness only to illuminate seconds later, back and forth. Unpredictably so. You aren’t sure what else you should look at while you’re still so drunk on Suguru’s voice. You think maybe you’d handle this phone call better if you were far from sober.
“I fucked someone else yesterday.”
The line goes silent. Your heartbeat picks up.
After almost an eternity, you hear Suguru’s voice again. It’s soft, almost cooing. It feels awfully dangerous despite this.
“Yeah? Who?”
You swallow thickly.
“This guy who got my number last month. Like, I didn’t give it to him — Utahime did,” you ramble. “But then we started texting and stuff and he’s… funny. He, uh, came over yesterday.”
“Did you like it?”
You imagine your throat closes up. Part of you wishes it would, that you’d just pass out immediately for no reason just so you didn’t have to have this conversation. You curse yourself for even bringing it up.
“Y-Yes.”
“You don’t sound so sure about that,” he chuckles.
“I am…”
“You don’t have to be so scared, baby. I know that Satortu took away your virginity, but he’s not some kind of god watching over you.”
“I know,” you huff.
“But you feel guilty, don’t you? Like you’re betraying him?” he teases.
You open your mouth to say something, then close it. You notice how he talks about Satoru and not himself.
“Do you care?”
“I know how you feel about me.” His answer is simple. Blunt. It almost sounds sarcastic, but Suguru often talks like he’s cock-sure about everything. Even if he isn’t, he’s always held a certain confidence that was different from what Satoru exuded.
Satoru was a bad liar, to you, at least.
“Tell me about your boy. What’s his name?”
“He’s not–” you gruff. “Naoya. His name is Naoya.”
“That Zenin brat?”
“Huh?”
“He’s in the Zenin clan. A right bastard, I’ve heard.”
“He seems fine,” you mumble.
“Someone’s defensive,” he teases.
You pause, staring at the darkness of your ceiling. You fix your shorts, your fingers grazing the wetness of your core. You didn’t even realize you were aroused.
“I should go back to sleep,” you whisper.
“I thought you couldn’t. That’s why you called me, right? You need some help?”
“I don’t need help,” you scoff. “I just… I had a nightmare and wanted to talk to you.”
Suguru smiles. He knows you can’t see it, but he’s beaming in the darkness of his room. He’d been restless for the past few days after some disagreements with Satoru. He tried to blame the heat on physical altercations — the sun burning down to rev up the irritation in their shared systems like they were still boys. Always wanting to pin each other to the ground.
They didn’t have you to mediate, so they’d come out of arguments with bruises. Marks from skin tugged too harshly. The ghost of teeth biting down on flesh.
“I wish you were here, babygirl,” he sighs, his tone desperate. You almost cringe at it — you always assume he’s playing with you.
“Yeah?” you snort.
“Mhm. It’s funny. You didn’t even wake me up when you called. I was already awake, thinking of you.”
“Were you, now?”
“Mhm,” Suguru hums. “I just kept thinking about your thighs. How small your leg is compared to my hand.”
Your breath hitches and he almost laughs when he hears it.
“Can you do something for me, baby?” he asks. “Want you to touch yourself. Tell me how wet you are.”
You gulp. Your fingers prod at the hem of your athletic shorts, the nylon riding up as you squirm in your bed. Your index and middle fingers prod at the center of your core experimentally. You’re fucking dripping and it makes your breath hitch.
Suguru calls your name.
“I”m…” you stammer. “I’m wet. Why?”
“Poor thing. Maybe that’s why you can’t sleep, no?”
“I-I’m fine… I just—”
“You should play with your clit. Since I can’t be there to do it for you,” he breathes.
“What?”
“C’mon, sweetheart. I can tell my favorite girl just needs to relax. That’s why you called me, right?”
You whimper. It was maybe half-true. Suguru had stopped answering his texts as frequently as he usually did, and you missed the sound of his voice. The odd ache in your chest wasn’t something that you felt like exposing to anyone else, not even Satoru.
The silk of Suguru’s voice brings you back. You wanted to breathe him in, but he hadn’t visited like he said he would. Didn’t have the warping feature that Satoru had, which to this day, still startled you whenever it happened. Ocean eyes whipping your senses from thin air, like a lightning strike.
Despite your recent gripes about him, you needed the both of them like you needed air. At least to make it all more bearable. It disgusted you a little bit, needing them like a finding addict. Living with yourself and yourself alone was starting to get old, though you aren’t sure how much left of you feels whole. You were always fruit split in between a blade, all the gory parts splayed out by the hand of someone greater than you.
You needed Suguru’s musk, his hair in between your fingers as he rocked into you. Your hands were too small compared to his.
He has you panting, sweating through Kyoto’s mugginess. The dorms were in even worse shape here than on the main Tokyo campus, probably why Gakuganji was such a vapid old man. Everything was too hot and falling off the bone.
“I feel like I’m hallucinating. It’s like I can smell you through the phone,” Suguru murmurs, his voice like a mirage. You’d laugh if you weren’t so deep in your cunt, fingers pruning and pushed to the knuckles.
Suguru knew you would do anything for him, so he made you torture yourself because he wasn’t there to do it himself.
Your groans are muffled from you smothering your face in the sheets, knees pressing down and ass up. Willing to humiliate yourself without him even being there.
“Don’t tell me you’re giving up already,” he chides.
“I’m not,” you whine.
“How many times have you cum?”
“None.”
He laughs. “What are you thinking about?”
“You know what.”
You’re close to tears by the time he lets you cum. The sound of his voice hitting you deep in your core, insides permeated with the thought of him. Sweeter than smoked sugar.
It was the sound of his grunt that tipped you over, imagining him with black strands sticking to his high cheekbones with sweat. The apples of his face candy-pink. Where Satoru looked cherubic, Suguru looked like a girl’s first wet dream.
“Were you touching yourself?” you pant, coming down from your high. You don’t bother putting on your underwear again.
“Obviously,” he groans. The vibrations of his voice made the speaker blow off-kilter like the audio of a shitty VHS. “Came all over myself.”
You could fall asleep to the sound of his static hums. The chaos in your gut is settled by the time your alarm clock strikes devil’s hour.
“How are things?” you ask sleepily.
“With me?” Suguru asks. “Fine. Same as always.”
“You sound tired.”
“It’s three in the morning, sweetheart,” he chuckles dryly.
“Mm. My phone bill’s gonna be so high.”
“Get Satoru to pay for it.”
The bastard probably would, if you asked.
You don’t get much out of Suguru for the remainder you’re awake. His answers are deflective and clipped. He hangs up by the time he hears you breathing, knowing you’ve fallen asleep.
He sighs in his room, rummaging for his pills. If nightmares didn’t keep him up, then the sheer unwillingness of his brain’s tranquility was often enough for him to run a graveyard shift. Stumbling in the dark, half-dead. He’d gotten productive in finishing the video games he’d started with Satoru by himself. Not much else.
His throat feels dry. He couldn’t differentiate the tastes of anything anymore. It all tasted like curses.
___
You keep having dreams about Suguru.
Tonight, there’s two of him.
One is the image you’re used to – hair swept up in a bun. Broad chest in his Jujutsu Tech uniform. Eyes crinkling into half moons.
The other seems to be an alter ego. A cursed version, one with eyes to kill and blood on his hands. Hands that are trying to tear you apart.
When you grip his wrist, you can see the imprint of your hand on his skin. Flesh falling away, much too easily. The air around you splinters like you’re in a glitched matrix. The Suguru you know and love falters beside you, his skin suddenly sallow. Pale as bile.
When you scream, nothing comes out.
Pseudo-Suguru smiles as your Suguru fades away into ash. You stare into his cat-like gaze, the familiar of his mouth.
“Come with me,” he says.
It’s the last thing you hear before your body wakes you up in a sweat. You gasp as you jolt awake, fingers curling your damp bedsheets. You’re further startled by the crack of thunder as a torrential downpour occurs without warning — unusual for late August, considering the rainy season had died down weeks prior.
You sit up and reach for your phone almost automatically, your hands shaking as you go through your contacts. Your fingers hover over two names as you swallow thickly.
A few beeps follow the push of the call button.
“We’re sorry. The number you have dialed has been disconnected or is no longer in service.”
#gojo smut#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk smut#geto x reader#geto suguru x reader#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x you#geto suguru x you#geto x you
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Paper Hearts Part 6
The sequel is coming along great I just have one more part to do and it'll be done. Sweet Home Indiana is nearing its end too.
Heads up! I will be going on vacation on Tuesday and won't be back until next week. So no WIP Wednesday this week as that is the day of my niece's graduation and I will be away from laptop all day.
I will still be uploading chapters and should be able to do WIP Wednesday next week. But if not I'll let you know.
In this we have the Corroded Coffin boys being silly and a wild Dustin appears.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
****
Eddie rolled up to band practice fashionably late as always. The other three boys were doing a sound check and making sure everything was in order.
Gareth looked up first. “Did you bring the hearts?” he asked excitedly.
Eddie held up his bag and the other boys cheered.
“So how are we going to do this?” Eddie asked flopping on the sofa after gently setting his sweetheart to the side. “Do we want to do the hearts first or practice first?”
They all look around at each for a moment.
“Let’s get the heart thing out of the way,” Jeff suggested, “get it out of the way so we can focus on practicing.”
“Sounds good to me, man,” Gareth said. “In case practice runs over or some shit.”
Eddie pulled his backpack closer and began digging through it. He pulled out the hearts that he’d put in a plastic baggie so they wouldn’t get bent in the maw that was his bag.
He tossed the bag onto the table in front of them and then dug around for his notebook. He pulled it out with a bunch of pens.
“You don’t have to,” he murmured, “but I’d recommend changing up your handwriting a couple of times so he doesn’t realize they’re from the same four people.”
“We were doing anonymous and initials, right?” Brian asked, picking up the bag and opening it up.
Eddie lit up, a huge smile on his face. “I actually had an idea about that. I was thinking of famous groups with four dudes in it and I thought it would be hilarious if we mixed it up a bit with some of those to avoid the whole repetition thing.”
Jeff licked his top lip. “Show us what you’ve got,” he said jutting out his chin.
He opened up his notebook and flipped to the right page. “Alright, so I was thinking the Three Musketeers plus D’Artagnan.”
“Who would be who?” Gareth asked, wrinkling his nose.
“Gareth is absolutely D’Artagnan,” Brian said without hesitation. “No question.”
Jeff straightened up and looked over at him in confusion. “Why’s that?”
“Because my dearest Jeffy,” Eddie said with a grin, “because he’s the youngest and not an original member. Therefore D’Artagnan.”
Gareth and Brian glanced at each. Brian shrugged and Gareth blinked a moment or two before he shrugged, too.
“Yeah, that tracks.”
“I’ll take Aramis,” Eddie said with a grin. “The smooth talker with religious trauma.”
The other boys just cackled.
“I’ll be Porthos,” Brian said. “The compulsive liar with a flare for the dramatic.”
“Why am I left with the dude with serious romantic wo–” Jeff stopped. “Right, scratch that. I’m Athos.”
They cackled again. Eddie had had some wild crushes, but it was nothing on Jeff. He even had a slightly tragic love story. He’d actually dated Vicki Carmichael before she became a popular kid and hanging out with Steve’s crowd. They had both loved metal music, but Jeff was pretty sure she stopped listening to it once she joined the cool kids.
“And I have a list of other ones too,” Eddie said breaking into the resulting silence. “The four winds from Greek mythology. The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles...um...let’s see...” he looked at the notebook again. “The members of Metallica. The four horsemen of the apocalypse–”
Jeff winced. “Probably not that one, man. It’s for Valentine’s day and that kinda screams the opposite.”
Eddie blinked at him for a moment and then scratched out that idea. “Fair enough.”
“The four hobbits from Lord of the Rings?” Gareth suggested.
“Yes!” Brian cried. “I get to be Samwise!”
Jeff cackled. “Gareth and Eddie are sooo Merry and Pippin!”
“Oh god! Yes! Which one is which, though?” Brian said joining in the laughter.
“I’m Merry, of course,” Eddie said proudly. “I’m the instigator and Gareth goes where I lead.”
Gareth grumped in the corner, crossing his arms and glaring at all of them. “But that makes Jeff Frodo though.”
Jeff straightened up, smug. “I could handle that.”
Eddie shook his head at his friends. “All right, also on my list are the Ghostbusters and The A-Team.”
The other boys shook their heads at either suggestion but they had a pretty good list anyway. Plus their D&D names sprinkled in here and there and they’ve got in the bag.
They spent the next half hour coming up with nice things about Steve. Eddie did have nix a couple of their ideas because they came off as stalker-esque. Which was not the look they were going for.
****
To say that Eddie got a kick out of seeing Steve light up every time he opened his locker and more pink hearts fluttered out of it was an understatement.
The goofy smile the former jock got on his face was worth every second of the time they’d spent on the project.
And it was working, too. That was the really impressive part.
Even Tommy H. was baffled.
“How the hell are you getting so many pink hearts, Harrington?” he said on Friday, just four days into Eddie’s plan.
Steve shrugged in that dorky way that made Eddie’s heart stop. “I guess people are deciding to hell with social constructs and stupid cliques and are telling me even if they don’t dare to be open about that they still like me.”
Tommy’s mouth open and closed like a goldfish then he turned around and stormed off.
Eddie lean against the lock above Steve. “Back to being king again, huh, Stevie?”
“Not really,” he said, closing his locker and standing up. “Most of them are anonymous or fake names. But there are a few that real names.”
“You think someone is stuffing the ballot box as it were?” Eddie asked, worried the jig was up.
Steve shook his head. “At least I don’t think so. But it’s sad that they think they have to hide who they are to tell me that they still think I’m a cool dude or whatever.”
“For what it’s worth,” Eddie said, pushing off from the locker, “I think you’re a pretty cool dude.”
Steve blushed and mumbled his thanks.
God, did Eddie just want to bite those flushed cheeks. They were just too cute.
“It’s worth a lot, actually,” Steve whispered. He stood up and shouldered his backpack. “Catch you later, Eds.”
Shit that little nickname had Eddie’s heart doing overtime.
****
Steve was outside the middle school waiting for Dustin to come out. His mom had asked Steve to pick him because she had to stay after hours at work for a meeting.
He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he hummed to the music in his head. He could have turned on the radio but Dustin hated his music didn’t like him blaring it for the whole school to hear.
His eyes kept flicking to the rearview mirror to see his backpack on the backseat. He wanted to go over the ones he got today. There had been some really good ones. Ones that melted his insides and turned them to goo.
He bit his lip and checked the mirror again. He looked at his watch and he still had a couple minutes until the bell rang.
Steve whirled around and grabbed the bag. He ripped it open and pulled out his trapper keeper. Tucked in the front pocket were the hearts. He ran his fingers over the outline the hearts made on the plastic pocket.
He pulled out the hearts and read over each one. Tracing the names of the givers, thinking about each name and wondering where they were from.
There was a thump on his window startling him. He looked up to see Dustin making faces at him through the glass.
Steve shook his head and unlocked the passenger door to let the twerp in.
“Looking at pink hearts, Steve?” Dustin asked with the shake of his head. “So pathetic.”
Steve rolled his eyes and tried to put the hearts back in the folder, but Dustin snatched them from him and wouldn’t let him take them back.
“Come on, man!” Steve whined. “They’re none of your business.”
“I want to see which girls are giving the Steve Harrington Valentine’s hearts,” Dustin said, wagging his eyebrows.
“Dude, give it up,” he growled. “The pink hearts are friendship hearts, the red ones are the romantic ones. So give it back.”
The younger teen cocked his head to the side and said, “No.”
Steve folded his arms and glared at him.
“Aren’t you going to take me home?” Dustin asked after they sat in silence for a minute or two.
“Not until you give them back.”
Dustin just shrugged. “It’s your funeral if we get home after my mom does.”
Steve threw his arms in the air, but turned the engine and started the car toward the Hendersons.
“These are actually really sweet, Steve,” Dustin said after a couple of minutes. “I like the idea of friendship hearts. That way you don’t accidentally send the wrong message.”
Steve just shrugged.
“You do know that some of these are fake names, right?”
Steve rolled his eyes and dared to look over at him. “Yes, of course I do. I am familiar with D’Artagnan after you named a fucking demodog after him, thanks.”
Dustin cocked his head to the side and then shrugged. “That’s fair. What you probably don’t know is that Aramis, Porthos, and Athos are the names of the Three Musketeers.”
Steve pursed his lips and nodded. “That’s cool.” They hit a stop sign and Steve looked over and pulled out one. “What about this one? Tommy H. thinks it’s short for Kassie, but none of the girls at our school spell it like that.”
Dustin took the heart and looked at it. “Kas. Kas. Yeah, okay. That does sound familiar. Can I get back to you on that one?”
“Sure thing, bud.”
Steve pulled up to curb to let Dustin out. “You got your key? If you don’t, you can hang out with me until your mom gets home.”
Dustin began rummaging around in his bag and Steve snatched the hearts away before he could bend them.
The kid pulled out his keys with a triumphant, “Eureka!”
Steve shook his head. “You are such a dweeb. Go on, get.”
“Bye, Steve!”
“Next time say thank you, asshole!” Steve called out the window.
Dustin turned around and gave him the double middle finger.
Steve shook his head and drove off. Why he loved that kid, he had no idea.
When he got home he pulled out the little notebook and placed the pink hearts in with the rest. All but the one from Kas. Those he kept in his wallet. He really couldn’t place why. There was just something about what they said that made him feel warm and not in the fuzzy friendship way that the others did.
There was the first one:
-Stevie
I like the way you’re kind even when it doesn’t benefit you.
Kas
Which Steve loved but the others were just as sweet.
-Stevie
You have a great laugh, you don’t have to hide it.
Kas
-Stevie
That shirt today really brings out the color in your eyes.
Kas
And Steve’s personal favorite:
-Stevie
Each day is brighter because you’re in it.
Kas
There was one for each day he got hearts in his locker so he assumed it was all the same person.
He slid it next to the other three hearts in the billfold portion of his wallet and put the wallet next to his keys on his desk. Then he put the little notebook back, careful to make sure it was well hidden.
He wasn’t sure what his dad would do about the mementos but Steve really didn’t want to find out.
He was really going to miss getting the hearts over the weekend. They really had become the highlight of his day.
He sighed and buckled down to work on his homework. It wasn’t as though he had anything better to do with his time. He wasn’t invited to any parties, he didn’t have friends to hang out with, and the people who would hang with him were fourteen year olds and they all had bedtimes.
He briefly thought about calling Eddie, but the guy had friends, unlike Steve and was probably doing something with them. Probably that nerd game that Eddie had a club for.
He buried his head in his hands.
Steve sighed. Fuck his life was depressing as shit.
With another sigh, he resigned himself to another lonely weekend.
****
Tag List: CLOSED
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what’s yours is mine (5/?)
previous masterlist next
pairing: geto suguru x reader x gojo satoru
You don’t know a lot of things, and you readily admit that. What you do know, is that the friends you’ve made aren’t something you will ever regret. Until your physical body weakens and becomes nothing, you’re more than happy to give your all until you wither away.
What’s yours can be theirs, too. They’re your friends, after-all. (Omegaverse AU)
Oh. That’s bad. That’s really, really bad. You don’t need even Mama to tell you that, don’t need her to say anything more when all your nose can pick up on was the overwhelming stench of sour milk and rotting fruit.
Yet, you ask anyway. Just to confirm. Just to see, to test the waters. You know lying is bad, but you’re not exactly averse to actually doing it.
Maybe you just aren’t that good of a kid.
“Does that mean that it’s bad?”
She snaps out of it, eyes losing their glossed over fear and realization dawning on her face as she immediately slaps a hand over her mouth, a look of evident shock and restrained worry making you stare on.
You haven’t seen her so… Panicked. Not that you remember any moments that she had been, anyway.
(Do you not watch her enough?)
“Sorry… I’m sorry…” Her hand shifts up, trailing her face until she was holding her forehead and releasing the breath that she was holding, voice trembling on a note so deep-seated in terror that you just can’t ignore it. You see her shoulders slumping and her eyes darting towards the new carpet on the floor, to the creaky old table as her body shook with just that tiniest uncertainty all along— Before her pretty, shifty eyes finally landed on you.
You can hear a sigh of relief.
“I-It’s not bad at all. No. Not at all. It’s just what some people say.” It was like she was assuring the both of you with staggered sentences that struggled to complete themselves.
Like she was jumbling, voicing words together just as they form in her head. Like she was just saying whatever was racing through her head as you catch the glimmer of sweat on her skin.
You’re pretty sure it wasn’t that hot in here… You helped her adjust the heater just now.
“You shouldn’t listen to them. Never,” She has to steady her shaking words, steady her stumbling, clumsy way of speech as the tension in the space finally lifts when she scrunches her eyes close, able to breathe easy again as she whispers those words to you. “Never listen to anyone who speaks that way.”
You blink.
“Not even you, Mama?” A tilt of your head as you’ve long gotten off of your chair, Pokemon printed socks padding towards her until your fingers lightly tapping her lap as a way to signal that you wanted to get on.
You think she really needs a hug. It always helped when you were on the verge of tears yourself.
“No…” She finally lifts her head, her hands reaching down and patting your hair as your eyes follow the trembling pen she still clutched so desperately. “Not even me, darling.”
You can see her twitch, watch as that same pen she had been clasping onto all this time finally fall out of her hands and tumble onto the recently bought, recently cleaned— And much softer carpet.
You were waiting for that to happen.
So you chase after it, crouching down to be able to pick it up, before running back into her arms under her watchful gaze and crawling onto her lap the next.
“Thank you.” A kiss to your hair and a pat of your head as you wrap your arms around her waist, face falling into contentment at the feel of being able to bury your face into your Mama’s softness. You can feel the way her sweatshirt feels warm and fluffy against your cheek, a fuzziness in your chest making you yearn for more pats and to hear her soft voice lull you into a sweeter comfort.
Though, your curiosity never sates.
“So is it not nice to be an omega?” You’re not exactly careful, not exactly getting the memo that it wasn’t something you should pry too much on even after that reaction. “Mama, do you hate being one?”
You’re just a kid, after all.
“It’s fine to be one,” A stroke of your head as her tone finally returns to that soft, gentle coo that you liked hearing so much. Albeit just that tiniest bit shaky. “Omegas are rare. You won’t see many around.”
“So…” Your eyes blink up at her, a small bit of an excited smile playing on your face when you realise your Mama was— Is special. “You’re like finding a Gold Machinedramon in a pack of Digimon cards?”
Now she is the one blinking at you, eyebrows furrowing momentarily with brief, apparent confusion as her hand stopped stroking your hair.
“Yes… Exactly like that, sweetie.”
You knew it. Satoru showed off his to you recently, your eyes glimmering at the way he had held that precious card up to the shining sun as Suguru could only sigh in the background.
“But being an Omega isn’t all that good.” You can feel her lean a cheek against your head, tenderly hugging her arms around you tighter as she speaks. “And some people might… Only love someone else just because they are an Omega.” She clears her throat.
“Or an Alpha.”
“Mn…?” What does that even mean? How can you love someone simply based on just that? But to be fair, you’ve seen cartoon characters get married because they kissed a frog.
“You shouldn’t befriend people like that— Or let them love you, okay?”
Huh? You don’t exactly get it, but it does sound like she’s right.
You feel her chest vibrate with a chuckle. “You’ll know a lot more when you’re older.” You can feel her pinch your cheek as you pout. “You should be worrying about what you want to eat for dinner later.”
When you’re an adult, huh? You don’t really like being told that, not even by your pretty Mama. Yet her last sentence still tugs a little too hard on your thoughts, pulling you into a state of worry and reassurance.
Because Mama doesn’t need to be anything more than your Mama for you to love her.
“I’ll love you even if you’re not an Omega, Mama.” It’s real, and your promise to her as you take another breath in at her scent, still wafting with the remnant aftermath of soured milk, yet slowly calming into waves of the sweet honey you love.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” Her fingers comb through your hair as you hum contentedly. Afternoons after school might become your second favourite part of the day after walking to school with Suguru in the morning.
“So which one should I be, Mama?” It’s your final, whispered question. You don’t know if she heard it, don’t know if it was even audible from how muffled you were as your face is pressed directly into her chest.
Her mindless, aimless petting of your head stops as you feel her lean back to be staring down at you. It’s hard to discern, hard to tell what emotion was in her eyes. Yet, it was evident, despite how small it was, or how insignificant it would be to another person.
Her eyes were definitely wet.
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll love you no matter which one you end up being.”
(“Oh, and I want cheese hamburg for dinner today!”
A soft giggle.
“Alright.”)
You’re still stuck on it, though. Even as your eyes are narrowed at the ground and Suguru’s scarf is wrapped tight around your neck... All whilst you’re poking at the concrete walkway with a stick you picked up from the ground, as cold as it might be.
Ambiguity. Maybe you should make that your new enemy. Your sworn foe who you can vow to defeat in the final battle. It fits all the marks needed to be one too, right? A cool name, hard to spell… And the fact that you don’t quite like it for terrorizing you right now with the unfamiliar and the uncertain.
Even the cold spring air isn’t enough to make you forget. This season was ambiguous too, you think. The moments right after winter when the trees are still bare and there just wasn’t enough flowers blooming to call it spring just yet.
You can’t even call it winter either. There’s no snow, the air isn’t as cold, your breath can’t be seen— You don’t like ambiguity. Not one bit. So you hope that either Satoru or Suguru are already waiting at the—
“Gah, goddamn midget fuckin’ sized playgrou—“
That’s not a child. Or even anyone you recognize as a matter of fact. A stranger. A stranger had made his way into the playground that Satoru claimed nobody else was allowed into.
(Though to be fair, you did also trespass.)
He’s big. That’s probably the second thing you notice about him when your smaller feet are trotting up towards him. Maybe he’s too big for both your and the playground’s liking, that’s why his butt won’t fit comfortably on the seat.
You will speak for the things that don’t have the will to speak for themselves! That’s… What the magical girl said on that anime yesterday. You think.
“…it’s cause you’re too big, mister.” Mama would scold you for approaching a stranger like this. But you’re more intrigued by the fact someone had actually defied everything Satoru had told you about this sacred space, had dared to bully your beloved play space!
He broke all the rules. You’re sure most adults can read, right? Did he not see the big sign and really, really long letter of notice that you can’t quite read well yet?
Maybe he has trouble reading too.
You hope that’s not insulting to say, though. You’ll apologize later… But first you wanna know why this stranger’s all bruised and patched up with seemingly hundreds of bandaids as he grunts and scowls at inanimate playground infrastructure before locking his eyes onto you.
His hair is really dark.
“The hell? The fuck you doing in ‘ere—“
“You say a lot of bad words too.” You’re blinking up at him with a blank look as you continue. Is this an adult too? “Your Mama would be sad if she heard you say that.”
Your eyes catch a glimpse of the small little tag on the leather bag so casually hanging off of his too big arm. You can’t exactly catch his name, but you recognize that it definitely… Probably was from this area? You’re not really sure. Nor have you walked anywhere past the playground, the market with your Mama… And school.
But you do know that he looks pretty old. Mama did mention once that there’s a lot more older kids here than ones your age.
So… He’s an older kid that looks like an adult? How ambiguous. An ambiguous ‘adult that’s not really an adult’ who looked like he doesn’t know how to react to you as his eyebrows furrow and his nose twitches, eyes glaring down at you before it suddenly clicks in his head at the way you had so fearlessly stepped inside.
“Tell ya what,” He doesn’t lean down, doesn’t squat to be at your height as he crosses the bruised skin of his slightly roughed up arms. He’s quite scary, if you think about it. “I won’t tell that Gojo kid you let me trespass if ya don’t tell anybody ‘bout me. Especially if you see some piss ugly punks who look like they got beaten up real bad.”
You blink. Did you just get… Scammed? Is this really your fault? Were you at fault for not chasing him out? But to be fair he has a point. You don’t exactly know what Satoru would do if he did find out this very big man stepped more than ‘one of his dirty toes!’ into his playground.
And honestly? You don’t think neither you nor Suguru would be able to talk your stubborn friend out of demanding capital punishment for this stranger. You would definitely need more than the 13 cookies you watched him gobble up only a couple days ago.
“Okay.”
And that’s how you ended up sitting on the swing seat next to him. Don’t get yourself wrong, he’s definitely scary. And kind of reminds you of those delinquent characters you saw in the movie at Suguru’s house when his Papa had left it on.
“Mister, are you an Omega?” It’s all that passes your thoughts once more. The talk of these types of things within your home, within your school, on newspapers and on TV… So older people like him should know more than you, right?
“This what kids talk ‘bout these days?” He sounds… so monotonous. “Don’tcha got better things to rattle on about?”
Honestly? You do. But your horoscope said that today was a day that you shouldn’t leave things unanswered, for they could bring about ‘unfortunate circuses’ or something like that.
So you ask anyway.
“No.” Your sandals kick up the sand below you, outsole making trenches on ground. “Don’t you have better things to do than get injured?”
“Annoying brat, ain’t cha?” A huff out his nose as his words become as dry as the air, his head leaning back to look up at the darkening sky. Maybe it’s just you, but you also don’t like how the orange glow disappears all too quickly when you’re too wrapped up in your head to appreciate it.
At least it makes the shadow you casted on the ground longer and longer—
“I’m an Alpha.”
Woahhhh. You don’t think you know any other Alphas past Geto-mama. Maybe that’s why he was so big. Geto-mama was definitely really tall. Though, you don’t think you’ve ever even seen an Alpha go to a playground for children. Is this what Alphas like?
“Is it fun?” It sure doesn’t look like it for him. You thought he’d be happy to be what was seemingly the strongest willed one. He could definitely find a Gold Machinedramon way faster than you, right?
“Heh. Ain’t no way, kid.” The scar on his lip looks kind of cool, you think. He leans back, those scruffy bangs of his finally moving out of the way enough for you to be able to catch the shimmering green of his eyes.
Even his shadow casted on the ground was too big.
“Alphas are some of the biggest losers out there.” The way he speaks has too much spite, his hand patting his thigh as if in search of something— All for naught. “Ah, fuck. I’m out.”
A softer swear under his breath that you would have caught had it not been for how distraught you were at his words.
“But when I get bigger—“
“You won’t like most of ‘em when ya get bigger either, kid. They’re assholes. Every single last one of them rat bastards.”
Oh.
That’s quite the revelation. But at the same time, you feel something akin to a lump in your chest, an unsteadiness to your heart. You know it’s not tears that were threatening to spill, know it’s not panic-stricken fear that will leave you shaking like a leaf. In fact, you recognize it the best nowadays.
Uncertainty. A knowing doubt. Ambiguity. Your worst enemy.
“That’s not true, mister.” Your feet lift off the ground as you start to lightly swing again. “Alphas can be nice people too.”
You would know. Geto-mama was different, was not anything like he had just described. You like her— Love her, actually. She’s been nothing but good to you in the few years you’ve met her.
A kind lady. Your Mama says it’s hard to get Geto-mama to stop talking sometimes, though.
(You should ask for her astrology sign later. Just in case the news says she’s gonna have a bad day. It’s good to have someone warn you if they’re unlucky that day.)
“That so, huh?” He’s looking at you now, letting his lips stretch out into another smug grin with an uncharacteristic softness in his eye. “Then I hope to see how that shitty mindset of yours holds up when ya get older, kid.”
He’s kinda cool. He would probably make a really good drawing for someone. But—
“You said another bad word.”
“…you been keepin’ track?”
“Mhm.”
The sunlight finally fades when he sighs, the heels of his beaten loafers digging into the sand below as the metal of the chains squeak, finally free of his added weight. He stretches, arms behind his head as he yawns at the fading orange of the night.
“Remember our deal, kid.” His back faces you, only to turn his head only slightly, letting you see the scarred lip that you admired so much upon a grin. "And don't stay out too late out 'ere."
He wasn’t a bad Alpha either, you decide.
——
“Tch! That old man down the street’s a scammer!” Gojo Satoru is pouting, chubby cheeks puffed up with narrowed eyes and stained lips as he pokes at the supposed, promised ‘strawberry’ flavoured ice. “There’s no difference in this one either!”
“He only made them different colours. The melon one tastes the same too.” Geto Suguru is pulling away once he’s had a bite of all three, a hand dabbing away at the remnant sweetness on his lips.
“Was he too lazy to make more because it’s still cold? Mmm... Maybe we should've asked Kimiko-san to bring your shaved ice machine instead."
“No way! She would’ve said that I couldn’t eat it with any syruppppp!”
“That’s cause y’er meant to be on a sweets ban, Satoru. Didya manage to even get it lifted even a little bit?”
“Hmph!”
“So you didn’t.”
“Hmph!”
And there you were, sat upon the playground’s deck, hidden from the sunlight and protected by the shade as you poked at the supposed ‘blue hawaii’ flavoured shaved ice treat.
It doesn’t really taste ‘blue’ or very ‘hawaii’. Not that you know what either of those taste like. Though, you’re not quite bothered by the fact that it tastes oddly similar to Suguru’s green coloured ‘melon’ one as Satoru pokes your mouth with a spoonful of his own ‘strawberry’.
“Heyyyyyyyy! Pay attention to us! Ya can’t daze off when we’re discussing important stuff!”
You’re still bothered by it. Even as your mouth parts to allow the spoon to be shoved not so gently into your mouth, even as you chew in thought as a head lays upon your shoulder and Suguru wiping your mouth with a handkerchief already pretty stained in blue, green and red.
“I’ll love you no matter which one you end up being.”
Ah, your old enemy. Ambiguity. You find it quite troublesome to be you right now, your eyes closed in focused thought and a hand on your chin to sell the look. You can’t just suddenly be okay with any one of them just because Mama said she didn’t have a preference.
It’s not because you think one is superior to another, not because
You need to at least pick one to work towards being.
"Which one would you guys wanna be?" It’s sudden, very out of topic from the Digimon debate your friends were having as they practically hung off of you, tossing your hair about or lying on your shoulder… But you think they understand regardless. They always did, no matter how strange or irrelevant the situation may be.
(You’re starting to think they’re mind readers.)
“…is this because of what Tachibana said?” Ah. You’ve been seen through in a blink of an eye. Were you that obvious? Or was it just because Suguru had always been the type to notice this type of thing?
“You shouldn’t care too much about what someone like him says, (name)-chan.”
Satoru pouts beside you, a hand lightly smacking your shoulder as retribution as you feel him grab your face, pinching lightly at your cheeks as you finally look at him.
“Why’re ya even thinkin’ about other kids?” He squeezes your face for good measure. “We’re here, aren’t we?”
You blink, feeling mushed and very much squished. “Sorry.” You should’ve known they wouldn’t have liked this type of thing either. Maybe you should’ve read the air better.
“There ya go apologizin’ and not telling us what you think again.” A cross of fingers and a sudden flick to your forehead as you recoil back slightly, the only support being Suguru’s hands pushing you back up as your hands go up to be rubbing your reddening cheeks instead. “Don’tcha get tired?”
It’s an honest question on his part, his snappy way of talking and his huffy mumbling about how you need to stop that annoying habit of yours.
But you’re trying, you really are.
“I’ll give ya ice later if it still hurts.” That’s how he is. Geto Suguru who was kind and soft and always tried to soften the blows Satoru lands upon you.
Though, your black haired friend still tuts at him. “You shouldn’t hit her, Satoru.” He stops to really think about it for a moment, slow realisation in his words. “Save ‘em for others who deserve it.”
Their conversation is lost on you once again, your eyes only the slightest bit teary when you open them, blinking up at the both of them before you’re practically smooshed once again by the way they’ve decided to close their faces in on you, their own cheeks pressed against each other from how closely squished all three of you were.
“You cryin’?”
“Did Satoru squeeze you too hard?” Suguru’s brows are scrunched in worry, knitted together in anxiousness as he elbows the white-haired counterpart.
“O-Oi! I didn’t use that much strength—!”
It’s nice to have people worry about you, you think. It makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside as you feel them tap lightly against your face, pressing the cups of the chilly shaved ice against your cheeks as you simply… Slump forward and let it happen.
Friends are nice to have.
——
You’re finally 7 when you’re using a leg to push open the creaky metal gate, dragging a rather large basket of food behind you and grunting with each step. Mama did pack an uncharacteristically huge amount of food for all of you upon your mention of the mini picnic at the playground.
(But to be fair, you think all three of you do eat quite a bit combined.)
You’re excited. Not just for the food, but for how fun it would be, especially in spring amongst the pretty flowers that just started to bloom. A slight breeze passes by you, flowers blooming and scattering onto the crown of your head as petals fluttered down from the bright pink of cherry blossom blooms.
It’s pretty. So pretty. They blot and cover the plainness of the grey concrete beneath you, creating a path of blushing rosiness with every step you took.
You noticed that even the sunlight was gentle as it spots down from in between those bunched up leaves, so careful as they shine onto the ground. It makes your trek all the more delightful as you hum the tune to the morning news channel.
Ito Saya was quite the pretty news anchor… Even if she only mostly did the weather reports.
Though, you’re hoping that you won’t be too late, considering the fact that you’re the one lugging the rather large basket of treats there. Ah, whatever.
You just hope you don’t miss anything important.
And your eyes don’t deceive you when you witness the chill of spring become tangible in the form of a cute peck to the sakura petal stuck upon the winter child’s cheek.
You watch how the petals fall, how you think you’re forgetting to breathe properly as it hitches in your throat. Were you even blinking anymore? Your feet seemed rooted to the dirt beneath to admire them all the more.
“Is that enough yet?” Geto Suguru is grimacing at his friend, blushing just as pink as the flowers that had flittered onto his hair, petals dancing as they descend onto the hastily smoothed out picnic blanket.
“Mmm…” He had his eyes closed, arms crossed across his chest as the smugness doesn’t cease to stop. “One more would do!”
“Aren’t you being too greedy now?!”
“You’re the one who hit me! So ya have to kiss my boo boos!”
Ah. The pretty moment is ruined, so you can’t help but giggle as you watch from afar. Your friends are the sweetest.
“(nameeeeeee)!” Your snowy-haired Satoru is immediately on his feet, his sandals long kicked off to the side as he waves an arm at you. “Suguru kicked my face!!!!!”
It comes out as a whine, a complaint. Even if he had made the poor boy make up to him and console his pain.
“I didn’t even kick that hard!”
“Ya you did! Gimme all your cake if you really wanna say sorry!”
Your friends are truly the sweetest, you think. When Suguru is the first one dragging Satoru over to help you with your basket, when you’re watching as the blue-eyed boy pouts about the sting on his face, and even when you’re giving Suguru his hug in greeting first, letting him smile into your shoulder as you hold him tight.
“(nameeeeee)! Gimme mine next!”
Your friends are truly sweet— Especially when you mimic the shy kiss Suguru had given to the apple-cheeked boy that had shied away the moment you smiled so brightly at him.
You couldn’t ask for more.
“I’d wanna be a beta with you, you know?” Suguru’s talking through a mouthful of sandwich, cheeks stuffed to the capacity as he tries to push even more in.
Manners are mostly forgotten when not in the vicinity of an adult. And even more so if it was to answer a question you had asked a week ago.
“But… I think Beta would be good, right? It’s in between and has the most balance.” Balance in the sense that— You haven’t heard anything negative about it yet.
“Maybe I should settle on that?”
“Ya both think too little!” There’s a shift, bare feet stepping against the plush softness of the rather well made blanket when Gojo Satoru stand up tall on his own two feet, the shine of his eyes behind fluttering white lashes making you stare a little too hard.
He’s so cute.
“I’m gonna be an Alpha and make both of you my servants!” He has a triumphant huff to his tone, an all too confident posture in his stance as he points a demanding finger at the both of you.
“He’s got some imagination.”
“Mama says it’s cute when we act like babies.”
“Hey! Are ya both listenin’ to me?!”
But their replies have you stopping to think for a bit. How would you know what you would end up as anyway? Is there a way to tell? Would astrology have anything to do with it?
Maybe you need to watch the news a bit more.
“Huh? (name)-chan. It’s smell, isn’t it? That's how you tell.” Suguru’s tilting his head to the side as he watches your eyes blink back into focus, waving a hand in front of your face in efforts to bring you back.
They’re really good at reading minds.
“No, ya dummy. Y’er talkin’ out loud.”
It’s better to believe in magic. The mystical is definitely more fun, and you definitely wanna be a fairy someday. It’s gonna be—
“Satoru.” Your nose twitches when he leans over you to reach for the cream puffs he had Kimiko-san prepare. “You smell like sunlight.”
Maybe different people had different smells.
“Is there anything?” You’re sat on your knees with your arms stretched out to the sides in front of them, barely audible but just enough so for the wind to whisper your voice into their ears, watching as Suguru’s bangs sway with the branches of that familiar tree you were all sat under.
"Can't really make out anything on you, actually." Suguru's face is pressed into your hair from behind, his nose taking decisive whiffs to help answer your question. "All I can smell is that shampoo you and your mama use... Satoru, any luck?"
“Mmm…” His nose is nudging against the side of your neck, taking a deep whiff of the skin before he pulls back. “S’ not that there’s anything actually—“ He dives in for another, his soft face against your own as you hold his shoulder to steady him.
You can feel how the strands of Suguru's hair was brushing against your nape, his palm now resting on your shoulder as his free hand brushes through your hair.
You see crystal blue peek up at you, before leaning back to hold his chin to scrutinize a bit more.
“Hmm… Water, maybe?” His eyes are closed in stark thought as white hair is caressed by another swirl of spring wind. “Can’t really get anything past that, though.”
Oh. You had no smell then.
"It's okay. It's enough that you smell nice to us."
You hear him— Suguru say that pretty often, actually. Words that keep affirming you that it’s enough because it’s them, that you don’t need to go any further than that.
“Isn’t it enough that it’s for us?” He taps against the neatly wrapped plastic that held the cookies that Mama had helped you to bake in advance in attempts to make new friends within the classroom.
“Why’d you need it for the other kids?”
You want to have people who like you at the very least, even if you can’t make friends with them. That’s why.
“Hmm… Don’t you think Satoru would be mad?”
Maybe Geto Suguru was just that type of friend. Almost as clingy as your Satoru— Yet not quite letting you see what he truly was thinking. He’s always been quite polite; with you and the others around him.
Yet, you can’t help but feel like there’s something else behind his words, his actions— And his demeanour. You just can’t quite place an ascertain finger on it even when he smiles at you and blows a petal off of your hair.
So gentle. So pretty. He kind of reminds you of your Mama, if you think about it.
"Okay.”
And he looks content with your reply, his arms hugging around you briefly before they pulled away.
He’s really warm.
“Well? Ya have your answers now?” Satoru’s tilting his head at you before he drinks directly from the bottle of juice Suguru had brought, downing the apple juice and completely disregarding the cups Kimiko-san had so graciously prepared.
Maybe? Probably. You don’t really know for sure when you’re curling your fingers into a fist and back into a splayed hand.
It’s enough for now.
previous masterlist next
#jjk x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#geto suguru x reader#geto x reader#satosugu x reader
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fic rec friday 17
hi!! welcome to fic rec friday. every week, i pick five fics i have bookmarked and rec them with a little review. check them out!
Drew Tanaka's True Love Connections by @buoyantsaturn
Will smiled. "I have an appointment next door with the, uh… Matchmaker lady?” He winced at his own awkwardness, trying to bite back the embarrassment he felt. “Well, actually my friend set it up for me, but-- Sorry, do you know anything about her? The matchmaker lady, not my friend, I mean. I’m just not sure what to expect, you know? I’ve never, uh, done something like this before.”
THIS WAS SO SICK I LOVED IT!!!!!! flowershop au with a twist oh yes ma’am. also im so pumped drew was in this every time i see her im like hello my love how are you
2. just desserts by @thegoldenappleofdiscord
It’s just a cupcake, Nico reminds himself. Surely that justifies breaking into the infirmary at the break of dawn.
or: nico's love language is baking and will solace gets a lot of cake as a result.
end note hate me GIGGGGLIIING. also i am OBSESSED with this author but i haven’t read the solangelo book yet so i haven’t read a lot of her stuff and i’m DYING to. this was as sweet as nico's baking fr!! i'm writing less of a note on this fic (altho i love it) bc the WORDS i have to say about the next one,,,
3. caught in the river of tears that i cried by @thegoldenappleofdiscord*
In all honesty, it was really for the best that Will didn’t think about all the strange things that sometimes happened around him. After all, his mama had more than enough on her plate already.
He was a good kid, and it was best everything stayed as it were.
(Though admittedly, the flock of flesh-eating maniac pigeons, men with hooves, and the growing darkness in his veins might just make this a tiny bit more difficult than he anticipated)
or: will can only push down a part of him for so long (will has plague powers, but he's known it from the very start.)
UPDATE WHEN UPDATE WHEN UPDATE WHEN REESE PLEASE 😭😭i am genuinely so obsessed with this fic and the WAY everything is woven together....like fear is a driving force!! you can feel it!! this is one of those starred fics fr bc it Changed the way i wrote and characterized will. he is fr a character who has been controlled by fear his Whole life actually. of the world and what it takes from him. of the Fates that do not care for your fragile love. of the things they are forced to do. of the precarity of life. and perhaps most intimately and ardently Himself, and the abilities he does not want to have, the life he does not want to live. the parts of himself that do not fit in the mold he has Built for himself and Forced himself into. and this fic shows that so so beautifully like this story is Woven.....i think about it literally all the time it's insane
4. a handful of almosts by @thegoldenappleofdiscord
He’d said it so easily: “Best friends don’t do that to each other, Will.”
It had been a throwaway comment after Will decimated him in a card game, which was usually Nico’s forte. Following that had been a furious, “Besides, it’s war. Entirely luck-based. Winning this game doesn’t mean anything. Stop laughing – why the hell are you laughing?”
He’d mostly been laughing because of Nico’s expression – eyebrows drawn tight, mouth twisted in an adorable scowl – but also because of the sudden elation pumped into him like helium. They were best friends – and maybe someone else would be hopeful for more, and maybe one day he'll pursue it (he did want it, had wanted it for a long time) but for now, he’s content where they are, sitting in Nico’s room and cursing at each other through a deck of cards.
or: 5+1 of will solace being a pining loser
A HANDFUL OF ALMOSTS!!! WHAT!!! every once and a while u just hit a title that Hits u u know. like a handful of almosts. yeah. what a deeply poignant and tragic thing. how fitting for the pjoverse, a universe of people who are haunted by their almosts. god. and then to turn around and make this story FLUFFY?? MAKE IT THE CUTEST THING IN THE WORLD??? "will solace and his rose coloured glasses" REESE!!!!!! PLEASE!!!!
5. Damage Control by @nikkira
“I couldn’t save Lee. I couldn’t save Michael. I couldn’t save Silena.”
“You saved Annabeth when she was stabbed, right? And Annabeth was kind of imperative to the whole saving the world effort. The people you save go on to do things and help people and save people. When you lose someone, you lose them. But when you save someone, you save a dozen more people.”
"i dream of the people i could not save. they're mad at me." oh i am UNWELL. ill i tell you. i read this line and had to sit down for a little while like actually. one thing about will solace is that he never stops punishing himself and no one got that like this fic nine years ago
thank you for joining me this friday!! happy reading!!
#if any of you are not busy.#and want to send me reminders on thursdays or something.#i would be forever in yoru debt.#i am so sorry that it is sunday. anyways.#pjo#percy jackson and the olympians#hoo#heroes of olympus#pjo hoo toa#will solace#nico di angelo#nico di angelo & will solace#nico di angelo/will solace#nico/will#will/nico#will solace angst#solangelo#solangelo fluff#will solace has plague powers#fic rec#fic rec friday#FRF#longpost
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hiyaaaa could u write a fic/blurb abt maybe surprising kk while she’s doing one of her lil lives?!!!!!:)
surprising kk on live !
“hey girly pops!” kk threw up a peace sign, reading the comments. ice plopped on the chair beside her, waving to the live. “kk where is your man?” ice laughed, looking over at the brunette. kk rolled her eyes, propping her phone up on a water bottle. “okay so, my ‘man’ has been busy with sports. y’all girlies already know, we the athletic couple. period.” she looked at herself through the live, ignoring the face ice was giving her.
you had been gone for a few weeks due to dance. your coach always kept you busy, but during the summer before football season, kk felt like you never had time for her. currently, you were back in your hometown, hosting an intensive that your old studio planned for you to run. it would last about a week, not including the time you would be spending home after to be back with family. it was safe to say, that kk definitely was missing you.
“yall, it’s private but not a secret.” kk laughed, motioning for ice to come stand near her. “paige was supposed to be joining but i think she had an errand to run or something..” kk rolled her eyes, trying to change the topic off of you. ice nodded, even though she knew exactly what paige was doing.
kk knew you were coming back to uconn in the next week, since that’s what you guys had discussed over the phone. however, what she didn’t know was that you actually scheduled your flight back for the week before to surprise her.
about thirty minutes had gone by, and kk was letting random people join the live, whenever she seen your name in the chat. her eyebrows raised, pointing out what you commented to ice. they both waved, trying to let you know that they seen what you commented. “yall, my ‘man’ is lurking in the chat right now.” kk pretended that she was blushing, tucking one of her twists behind her ear. ice laughed, knowing what was about to happen.
you turned off your phone, looking up at paige. you guys were standing outside of the door, waiting for the perfect moment to go in. “are you sure she’s okay with me being on the live?” you asked, knowing how kk felt about keeping the relationship between you and her. paige nodded, motioning for you to walk in. kk looked up whenever she heard the door open, expecting it to be paige walking in.
“hi kam!” you smiled, scanning the girls face for a reaction. kk’s jaw dropped, covering her mouth with her hand. “wait- what are you doing here?” she asked, running over to pull you into a tight hug. paige and ice smiled, going over to talk to the live. “i thought i would surprise you! i missed you too much to wait any longer.” you felt kk’s smile widen into your neck, pulling you even closer. “i missed you so much, im so happy you are here right now.” kk pulled back, looking you up and down. “sorry- i am just making sure this is like…totally real right now.”
you rolled your eyes, pulling her back in for another hug. you put your hands on her cheeks, looking her in the eyes. she licked her lips, leaning in closer. you closed the gap between you guys, and pressed a tender kiss to her lips. you both pulled away smiling, looking over at paige and ice who were telling the live what was happening. kk laughed, looking back over at you. “do you think it’s real now?” you raised and eyebrow, scanning your eyes over the girls face.
“i’m not sure, i might need another kiss just to be sure…”
- thank u for reading all the way through! feel me to send me more requests !!!
- i hope this was good! im so sorry this took me so long to write babe 😭 this is easily one of the worst things i’ve written….
#kk arnold#kk arnold x reader#jazzies anons💝#uconn wbb#uconn women’s basketball#uconn huskies#paige bueckers#wcbb#ice brady#jazzies asks🥳#kk arnold headcannons
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I think what people need to remember as well is that yes while we all love and live for the content, we don’t know these people and we don’t know what they go through in their daily lives. Am I surprised that someone who just went through months of being violently cyberstalked didn’t give an insight into her personal life yesterday? Not in the slightest.
Like safety is something they have to consider in a way we don’t. Both of their security was beefed up because of that stalker person. Tom is not only very visible right now, but also accessible – his schedule and whereabouts are public knowledge. No wonder the security at the stage door is so tight.
Do I want to get more cute pics and see Z at more shows? Sure. But I fully understand why she’s lying low.
mhm
and the last i’ll say is anyone whose actually annoyed/angry at the supposed ‘lack’ of content maybe needs to think about finding some other celeb/thing to follow that gives them the level of entertainment they desire or not equating their personal satisfaction with getting content from them. and don’t bring your grievances into my inbox as i’m doing just fine with what’s been happening so far this year
this isn’t a new phenomenon with tz. it’s been pretty much like this for the past 2/3ish years now. be happy with what you get which (compared some other people i’m a fan of) is a considerable amount
#and that’s all#i’m going back to reading my book in the park#maybe some of you should try that#it’s nice#ask
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It's Sunday ... ya know what that means
ok .. so sentences cuz it's already sunday - Let's do this!
so my sentences this week are actually one of the ficlets I wrote over the weekend cuz the only other thing I've written recently is not ready for public viewing
so i wrote 8 ficlets this weekend and they're all on ao3 if ya want to peruse - to pick which to post I used an 8-sided die to determine which we'd post here - I rolled a 1 so it's a good thing I wasn't actually playing a game lolz
ficlet and tags behind the post (cuz ooops it might be a bit long for a ficlet)
Henry sinks into the chair on the dock. His friend June invited him along to her family’s lake house in Texas for a long weekend, and as Pez wasn’t in town and had nothing holding him and Will, his toddler son, at home, he decided to tag along. Now, sitting here watching her younger brother, Alex, swim across the lake, hoist himself up on the dock, and slowly walk over to plop in the chair next to him, he wonders why he thought his dog wouldn’t be enough company for them over the long weekend. He’s so lost in thought he misses what Alex is saying to him. He attempts to recover but is so entranced by the drops of water trailing across Alex’s chest he’s surprised he doesn’t offer to lick them off.
Instead, he gets out, “Um … I’m sorry, what was that? I was a bit lost in thought.” It’s not a lie; he was lost in thought. He’s just not sure he should admit those thoughts were all the things he wanted to do to his friend's brother. Alex is ten years younger than him and just graduated from college; he doesn’t need pervy older men lusting after him. Henry is certain he has plenty of people his age lusting after him. Honestly, he thinks there’s probably a new circle in hell being created for him as they speak after some of the thoughts he’s had this weekend. It doesn’t help that Alex is legitimately perfect; he seems to love David, who loves him back in a way he hasn’t loved anyone since Pez. And Will—Will is utterly smitten with Alex, much like his father, only, of course, with less pervy thoughts.
“I was just wondering if Will was still napping. I promised him I’d take him into the lake today.” The blush that rises in Alex’s cheeks as his eyes seem to roam Henry’s body makes Henry wonder if at least some of his feelings aren’t returned. Of course, that is most likely just his overactive imagination at work. “That is if you’re still all right with that.” The way Alex nibbles at his lip gives Henry thoughts he really shouldn’t be having when talking about his son.
“Of course, Will would be distraught with me if I denied him that. I trust you to care for him in the water, Alex.” He attempts to smile in a non-predatory way, but all of the very horny thoughts running through his head make him wonder if he was successful.
“Besides, you’ll be right there with us, right?”
The thought of standing in the water with Alex, as Will no doubt clamors all over him, is doing things to Henry. He knows he has a bit of a competency kink, and Alex has shown just how competent he can be with Henry’s son all weekend. It makes Henry wonder how competent he could be with Will’s father, and he really needs to stop thinking that way.
“Of course –“ Luckily, before he can embarrass himself further, June walks over and plonks Will into his lap.
“Someone woke up from his nap and wanted his dad.” She says as she walks past and plops herself onto the edge of the dock.
Henry’s never been so happy to have his son wake. He has something to focus on other than the devastating man across from him. Well, at least until Will sees Alex and practically throws himself from Henry’s lap to get to him, his loud “Alex” echoing through the silence. Apparently, his thoughts are not the only thing focused on Alex.
so ya made it through the ficlet - it's time for some tags
(no-pressure) tag you're it! to @adreamareads @agame-writes
@anincompletelist @bitbybitwrites @blueeyedgrlwrites
@dragonflylady77 @duchessdepolignaca03 @england-would-fall @firenati0n @firstsprinces
@forever-fixating @getmehighonmagic @henryspearl @heysweetheart-writes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf
@inell @inexplicablymine @itsmaybitheway @jellibuns @jmagnabo92
@junebugclaremontdiaz @kiwiana-writes @littlemisskittentoes
@lizzie-bennetdarcy @mikibwrites
@msmarvleouswinchester @nocoastposts @piratefalls @priincebutt @softboynick
@sophie1973 @sparklepocalypse @stellarmeadow @suseagull04
@tailsbeth-writes
@taste-thewaste @thedramasummer @theprinceandagcd @thesleepyskipper @thinkof-england
@tinyarmedtrex @typicalopposite @wordsofhoneydew @yrsacdfox
@indestructibleheart @everwitch-magicks @cricketnationrise @orchidscript @cha-melodius
@captainjunglegym @eusuntgratie @bigassbowlingballhead @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @oxfordslutphase
#sunday sentences#not six or seven#firstprince#red white and royal blue#rwrb fic#henry is very lust-filled#age gap of 10 years#i just realized i wrote my first age gap of more than just a couple years when i wrote this lolz#henry has a son who luvs alex#henry has a bit of competency kink
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angst buddie fics
all of these are general audience, teen and up or not rated (no smut)
make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)
a leaf falls on loneliness (highly recommend this fic!!)
by: iimpossible_things
"buck doesn’t think that if he were to say, “i’m in a bad place”, that anyone would turn him away. really, he doesn’t. the 118 has too many good, kind people for that. but every time he wants to open his mouth, to say something, to reach out to eddie or bobby or hen or chim, he hears eddie yelling, “you’re exhausting.” —you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting— so each day he does his job and he laughs and he jokes and he pretends he’s the care-free goofball he’s always been. And each day he packs away his bruises and his worries, takes them home to his empty loft with its quiet rooms, and licks his wounds in silence."
word count: 11k
important tags:
hurt/comfort, fluff, happy ending, original male character
catharsis by: rogerzsteven
"it only takes one minor inconvenience for buck to have his long overdue breakdown"
word count: 5.3k
important tags:
emotional hurt/comfort, mental/emotional breakdown, bobby nash as evan buckley parent, multiple pov
still
by: brewsrosemilk
"for the first time, buck longs for a bullet wound to treat. dirt to dig at. a door to break through. something. there’s nothing. “your guess was correct, diaz,” the bomb technician tells them, as he gestures to the orange circle. “you’re standing on a large sensor plate, wired to a detonator. It’s incredibly important that you don’t move. don’t shift. when you put your weight down, it was like cocking a gun - you take your weight off, this thing is powerful enough to take the entire house with it."
word count: 9.3k
important tags:
near death experience, love confessions, happy ending, first kiss
august
by: daisies_and_briar
"buck, eddie, natalia, and marisol go on a beach vacation in august of 2023. It gets angsty and gay."
word count: 40k
important tags:
vacation, eddie/mariol, buck/natalia, mariol/natalia, coming out, feelings confession, sexuality, everyone is queer
listen to you breathing (is where i wanna be)
by: yavilee
"the one where buck is presumed dead after a building collapse and eddie has to live through the reminder that tomorrow isn't promised to anyone"
word count: 41k
important tags:
presumed dead, major character injury, mutual pining, grief, panic attacks, friends to lovers
all that we intend is scrawled in sand (and slips right through our hands)
by: withmeornotatall
"buck and eddie get trapped together, time is running out, and eddie doesn't want to die alone"
word count: 6.9k
important tags:
near death experiences, major character injury, whump, love confessions, getting together, first kiss
actually, truly
by: milenadaniels
"helena (and ramon) tries to find a way back into eddie's life and doesn't know what to make of finding buck around every corner she turns."
word count: 14k
important tags:
multiple pov, season 4/shooting, homophobia, internalized homophobia, recovering from injury, pre-relationship, getting together, team as family, supportive!isabel diaz, coming out
i know you're hurting (but so am i)
by: justhockey
"eddie understands better than maybe anyone else ever could, how it feels to have everything unravel in the palm of your hands. he knows frustration - he knows fury. he’s painfully familiar with that burning rage that crackles in the tips of your fingers, that makes your skin hot and chest tight, and makes you want to punch anyone that dares to even look at you. but that doesn’t give chim the right to lay a damn hand on buck"
word count: 3.7k
important tags:
hurt/comfort, ptsd, feelings realisation, protective!eddie diaz, communication, 5x04 coda
i want to reach out
by: orphan_account
"buck was a very emotional and physically clingy person, he knew this, once he had someone, he held on tight, scared they'd one day leave them. a drunk ana points out that maybe everyone is tired of it, and buck realises: maybe they are."
word count: 5.7k
important tags:
insecure!evan buckley, ana flores bashing, hurt/comfort, touch starved, abandonment issues, love confessions
the aftermath of liberation and love confessions
by: elvensorceress
"in which eddie comes out, sexuality is complicated but coffee is not, buck makes an excessive salad and is also roasted, everyone has a love confession, and December is the most dramatic time of year."
word count: 17k
important tags:
pining!eddie diaz, idiots to lovers, coming out, love confessions, demisexual!eddie diaz, post 5.09
and this is his life
by: shyaudacity
"in late june of nineteen ninety-one, mere hours after losing her son to cancer, margaret buckley takes a baby out of the hospital nursery and decides to bring him home"
word count: 26k
important tags:
established relationship, kidnapping, emotional hurt, panic attacks, flashblacks, comforting!eddie diaz
mirror, lie to me, tell me you can see
by: anonymous
"buck struggles with food and his body. it's not new."
word count: 20k
important tags:
TW: eating disorder, established relationship, hurt/comfort, protective!maddie buckley, marriage proposal, sibling love, caring!eddie diaz
without you, i'll never be home
by: the_forgotten_nobody
"after the tsunami, eddie invites buck to stay with him and christopher."
word count: 45k
important tags:
hurt/comfort, post-tsunami/season 3, anxiety, separation anxiety, pining, sharing a bed
#911 abc#eddie diaz#evan buckley#buck x eddie#911 fandom#911 show#buck x eddie fic#ao3#ao3 link#buddie fic#buddie recommendations#buddie fics#ao3feed#angst fics#buddie fanfics#buck x eddie fanfics#evan buck buckley#911 fic recs#911 fic rec#911 fics#buddie fic rec#buddie fic recs
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To be a bit clearer about my issue with the tweet that I talked about in this post as I was posting in the car on the way home (I was not driving but had to do it fast because I get super motion sick) and have had some time to expand a bit:
If we’re talking about the general concept “Stolas set the parameters of the initial sexual transaction thus rooting their relationship in sex from the start and because Blitz is too self loathing and willfully blind to see the desired parameters have changed it is Stolas who made their relationship all about sex in large part because Blitz was never going to be in a healthy enough space to be the one to change it” then yes I agree with the sentiment.
Stolas could have simply said “I’ll let you use the grimoire in exchange for a date” instead of jumping straight to sexual relationship and they could have gotten to know each other first, maybe one date for each Full Moon*. So yes, he did make it this way, he set the terms. At the start of the show.
(*Side note: This would be a super cute fanfic premise tbh and if the show did something like that, where they need to exchange something and say “Hey, how about we make a deal to go on a date on the Full Moon” it would be a really fucking adorable way to reconcile them *starry eyes*. Just think about how much that would slap. The narrative circle of that would be *chef’s kiss*. )
My problem with the framing of “Stolas started it that way in Murder Family, was super over the top horny for a few episodes, now he must suffer the consequences despite the fact that he has been trying to change their dynamic since Blitz expressed how he felt in Ozzie’s” is that, the events of The Circus completely recontextualize the deal we see made and Stolas’s behavior.
We, the audience, didn’t know in S1 that Blitz initiated the whole thing and that Stolas was just mirroring that energy, so I am extremely understanding of this perception pre-S2. Even up until Western Energy, but by Oops we have enough evidence to show Stolas has been trying, Blitz is just refusing. So Stolas didn’t “make it this way” for where the characters are NOW. Not in a “It is Blitz’s fault” taking sides in the divorce way, but in a “This is about character growth or the deliberate lack of it within the story” way.
My big issue with the tweet now, and didn’t learn until I read the tags of a lovely person is that is apparently from an individual who actually works on the show. And that is….kinda concerning to me. A bit.
The idea that Stolas’s efforts count for nothing because he set the initial deal and behaved badly at the start, that we the audience should still see the current dynamic as “Stolas making everything sexual” is a problem 8 episodes into the 2nd season. We have many examples of him not doing that any longer, he has changed, we the audience have been shown that change. Why is it still being framed this way by the actual creative team?
I don’t know how animation production works, so I’m not sure if the people who work as animators are given the whole picture or not. I don’t even know they are fans necessarily, or if they get their individual parts to work on and that’s it. I have zero background info on how these meetings are conducted. I am not coming from a position of authority in this regard.
Setting aside the dismissal of Stolas’s character growth this season. framing it this way undermines the journey Blitz is on too. At this point in the story he is refusing to acknowledge Stolas’s earnest attempts, his willful ignorance is not a funny gag but a reflection of his character and state of mind. It is implied his own trauma and self loathing make him unable to believe what has being explicitly told to him. This confrontation is the tipping point for further development in one direction or another. His choice now is to continue to ignore it and lose Stolas entirely or to try and work through it in some way. By implying Stolas is the one who created thier current situation way back in S1 implies Blitz’s ignorance of Stolas’s feelings is not because of character’s motivations and his own choices to ignore it but simply because it was that way at the start and it is immutable. Stolas said “sex for book please” and “jelly sandwiches” and Blitz was just “I’m just doing what he said he wanted, now he’s coming out of nowhere with this feelings stuff” when a huge part of showing the audience that it is Blitz’s self loathing driving the conflicts in his life is that he refuses to believe the truth of the situation which is it wasn’t Stolas making it all about sex at all. That Stolas has been trying and Blitz keeps shutting it down because of his issues.
That just seems like a crucial part of what we’re doing here? Yes Stolas creates the situation in S1 but he went out of his way to do the opposite in S2.
Obviously this individual’s qualifications for interpretation, being an actual employee, trump my “I’ve watched it a bunch and obsess over it constantly” credentials by a long shot. But my concern is to have a meeting of people responsible for creating the show reflect this sentiment after what we’ve seen in S2 so far is just a little baffling to me?
Either those attempts by Stolas portrayed on screen and the change in his behavior towards Blitz after he realizes his feelings are meaningless in the face of first impressions being everything to both Blitz and the audience. If that is the case I’m not sure why they would be included if the end result interpretation is still “Stolas horny. Made it all about sex. The end.”
Or, I am misreading something, either the tweet itself or the canon text. This is very possible, tweets being an imperfect communication tool and myself being an imperfect person. But as I stated in the original post, if we’re accounting for what is shown on screen as being how we should interpret the characters, Stolas has been trying for months to shift gears and Blitz is the one who continues to frame it as “just sex”. So I just find the tweet completely out of touch with the narrative we’re consuming.
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Jealousy
Summary: You're in a secret relationship with him, but as he sees you walking with another guy, he feels the need to throw you over his shoulder and carry you away
Length: ~0,8k
Contains: Themes of jealousy
Yami Sukehiro, the last man of the Yami clan, and the eldest of his family, was a sound man. He wasn’t about status, or possessions, or his own goals to begin with. He had been happy for the longest of times, if he had been able to just live his life, do things he liked… get better at it and just… have a peaceful life.
And when you had walked into his life, he… wasn’t exactly sure what to do about that. Hell, he’d say that getting together with you was a miracle in itself, because he didn’t deem himself to be anything special in the first place, but …Still, you had chosen him, a rat bastard from a foreign country with a strange grimoire. Which seemed so surreal.
But. He had to believe it. By now he had to believe it. Even if you two were keeping it on the downlow, due to him being a Captain. A lot of people might have wanted to use you to get to him, and that was the last thing he wanted.
And it wasn’t something that he was gladly thinking about, but … it was the reality in which you lived. That there were such individuals out there. And that getting under the skin of a Magic Knight Captain, would be a rock turned for the enemy.
It was all for the sake of keeping you safe. So, it would be worth the secrecy, the days and the nights during which he couldn’t see you. It would be worth all the sneaking around.
Or so he thought.
Until that one day… that one damned day when he was walking in a nearby village, and he saw you walking side by side with some guy. And obviously the guy didn’t know that you were taken. Plus, since you were in a secret relationship, with no actual proof of dating someone like a Magic Knights Captain, a title that he knew would hold some burdens, there was a good chance the guy wouldn’t believe even if you did say so.
But still…. Damn the nerve on that guy.
Just walking so casually with his spouse! It made him just bite down his molars. Irritated him. Made his breath low, and steady, and somehow rugged with every passing growl.
The nerve! The guy should just… stay in their own lane if he knew what was good for him.
He walked up to the two of you, radiating the mana only a Lord of Destruction could, and stared at him with eyes gleaming in the light of the sun.
“This guy botherin’ you?” He asked with that low baritone voice of his that vibrated through your body and soul.
“No,” you replied. “My brother isn’t bothering me.”
His eyes turned, cold and emotionless, or so one would have said as it was impossible to tell, towards the brother. The man who was feeble in comparison, and who was shaking in his shoes, looking pale as a ghost.
“I gotta talk with ye,” he told you, and before you barely had had the time to give you a nod, the mountain of a man that was known as Yami Sukehiro, threw you over his shoulder and begun carrying you away, almost as if to make a point.
“H-hey!” Your brother yelled, but you waved him off, telling him that it was fine. Really, it was fine.
And by the time Yami let you down, you were amused by the whole ordeal.
“What was that about?” You mused to yourself, while still managed to sound slightly accusatory.
“What?” He asked, as if it was clear as day. “You’re mine, and I’m territorial,” he explained. “The guy was just… trying to pick a fight.”
“My brother was trying to pick a fight by spending time with me?” You quirked an eyebrow at him, but received a kind of a shrug as a reply.
“Didn’t know it was your brother…” he uttered. “So he just looked like he was asking for it.”
That barely qualified as an answer. But you’d let it slide. This once. Just this once…
“So…” you uttered, while taking a step closer, and fumbling with this cape. “You are… territorial?” You asked, which was replied with another shrug and him rubbing the back of his neck.
“Yeah…”
“So… you’re not jealous, by any means? If I spend time with another guy despite being in a relationship with you?” There was a tease in your tone, one that made his gaze wander.
“I’m… territorial,” he repeated with a forced tone and a tense jaw.
“I know,” you mused with a kind of a giggle, “ and that’s one of the things I love about you.”
“One of the things?” He glanced with a kind of a smug face, while you knew that it wasn’t genuine smugness. Just a pleased, proud, confident smirk.
“One of the things,” you nodded while leaning forward and pressing your body against his, as he leaned down, and closer to you.
“Good to know…” he uttered with a hushed tone that tried to be a whisper, but the voice that always vibrated through you, resonated with you, wouldn’t allow it to be quite just that.
Another thing you loved about it.
#black clover fanfiction#black clover oneshot#black clover x you#yami sukehiro x reader#yami x reader
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just remembered that god awful take about jgy supposedly hunting down and killing all of jin guangshan’s other bastards because he “couldn’t allow any potential threats to his power” or whatever bullshit
like okay even if there were other children eyeballing his position, they would have to be legitimized first to even remotely be a threat, and who exactly is going to legitimize them?? jin GUANGSHAN???
#mdzs talk#jin guangyao#jgy tag#i’m not sure people actually think these things through#you SAW how many hoops jgy had to jump through to be legitimized#and in the end he literally had to END AN ENTIRE WAR#and jin guangshan only legitimized him so that he could take credit for jgy’s accomplishments#again this is the man who is terrified of his wife’s ire#and had jgy kicked down the stairs for daring to exist at the top of them#you think THIS GUY would legitimize ANY other children???#mxy was ultimately a bluff#jgs wanted jgy to to believe he was replaceable#but anyone with a brain would be able to tell that mxy and jgy just. were not on the same level.#jgs would have had to legitimize mxy for him to actually be a threat#but the threat can’t be ‘well i can legitimize him whenever i want’ bc he’s not even being considered for inheritance until he’s legitimized#the threat has to be ‘look at that! i have ANOTHER son now. that means you’ll have to fight to keep your place or he’ll replace you’#except that legitimizing mxy would only present more problems for jgs re: publicly acknowledging his indefinite & inviting his wife’s wrath#ergo: the benefit of legitimizing any other children (jgy stays in line) is far outweighed by the cost (reuptation hit & pissed off wife)#so if jgs isn’t legitimizing any other children#HOW COULD ANY OF HIS OTHER CHILDREN BE A THREAT????#*walks in* I AM THE LONG LOST CHILD OF JIN GUANGSHAN HERE TO CLAIM MY INHERITANCE#option a: jgs is still alive#jgs: ahaha babe don’t listen to them. i don’t have any more children i swear. security? the stairs please. you know how it’s done.#option b: jgs is dead and jgy is sect leader#jgy: i take it you’re on the family register then? no? well unfortunately he can’t legitimize you posthumously. have a nice day.#it’s like they think that all of the classism that kicked jgy down the stairs over and over somehow wouldn’t apply to anyone else??#the stigma around bastard children???#like what are you gonna say that jgy deserved the way he was treated bc he did bad things later???#smh#mdzs
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it kind of bothers me that witcher fans don’t really unite under sapkowski’s name like other fans of fantasy authors do (e.g. “tolkien fans”).
in practically any other fandom of fantasy books, save for the particularly rancid authors known for their disappointing and shameful behavior or views (e.g. jk r*wling), it’s just regular business to say the author’s name. but sapkowski’s name is treated like a dirty word in the witcher fandom, for really no good reason…
it must be asked — what is stopping us from doing so?! why don’t we call ourselves sapkowski fans. it would be much easier than saying “i’m a fan of the witcher, but only the books, i don’t consider the various adaptations canon, etc. etc.” … “half a hundred words, when three are enough!!”
#i was just thinking about this today. can we call ourselves andrzej sapkowski fans beginning now or what#note that i said GOOD reason#meaning that it’s not like sapkowski is a conservative#the witcher books#txt#like sapkowski has done and said stuff that i dont approve of or like#the alcoholism at cons for instance hem hem (though ive also heard that type of behavior was standard)#he’s said a few cringey things about women and lesbians but nothing worse than your typical old guy would#specifically i’m referring to the ‘i dont hate women i - he he he - positively love them!’ which is actually just everybodys granddad lmao#and the ‘i dont know about why my characters are lesbians - though i can be sure im not one’#that kind of stuff just makes me shake my head and laugh#but its not like he has done heinous shit like some of these authors running around loose out here#i mean i think it’s mitigated in part that he’s a private person with no twitter account#i also disgaree with his points from there is no gold in gray mountains but i also dont know enough abt what hes talking about to understand#understand FULLY at least. i understand some but not all. i think i understand just enough to disagree#but he has expressed a lot of progressive points which also come through in his series#what i mean is: hes not a terrible person. so why do people act like he is#ALSO i think if we united under his name then there would be more inter-series fans#ive always wondered where the fans of the hussite trilogy are (online). is there an online fanbase?#and if we do that then we can get more and better translations hopefully#like theres still no official translations for a ton of his short stories
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i find it damn near impossible to get mad at santana’s behavior in 3x06 and 3x07 because i genuinely do think she had the right to be lashing out at everybody. sue me idk
#idgaf if she was mean to kurt and blaine when they were “trying to help” in IKAG#they were the first performance & santana was put under the spotlight by the guy who fully outed her to the ENTIRE STATE OF OHIO & now she#-was expected to be just happy and jolly about some bullshit lady music week to celebrate women as if that has anything to do with wtf just#-happened to her by finn’s hands & of course she was upset because she was only back in the new directions because finn basically#-blackmailed her into rejoining like hello!!! so of course she was snippy with them… and tbh i don’t even think she was being that mean.#i think she’d have reason to be even MEANER actually. that reaction of hers was completely reasonable. and honestly it must’ve hurt seeing#-two people who are meant to Get what it’s like.. participate in that? especially when the last thing she wants is her sexuality that she’s#-still very insecure with Being broadcasted. to the whole damn club. it’s already about to be shown to all of ohio with names addresses#-details about her whole personal life etc like she really didn’t need that spotlight right then she needed to have space and love and#-support… none of which she got.#also the glee writers tend to make a character do a bad thing and then have another character do an INFINITELY WORSE THING#and then they’re like “oh but. the first character was being so mean. this absolutely deplorable and wayyyy too far reaction is definitely#-justified now because that was just so mean of the first character ugh!” and basically spins what happened into showing the first characte#-as the most evil person alive??? as if that’s even remotely true.??? and yes this is about santana cause they do this w her#and quinn. a LOTTTT. like a LOT. rn i’m talking ab santana though so i won’t cover quinn sorry fabrayers… one day!#like yes santana was being mean sure whatever. but finn didn’t have an excuse IDGAF what the hell anybody says about the body shaming stuff#it was mean. yes that’s true. but i don’t think you understand how different those two things are#they’re both bad but the outing is infinitely more despicable and personal and filled with malice and it’s so much more endangering in a wa#-that can’t even be compared to the dangers of body shaming you know. like they’re completely different and the outing thing is just too#-personal and Wrong like. idk. just get that through ur head they’re both so different and finn went way too far and personal. he could’ve#-just mocked her looks if he really wanted to get back at her. mocked ANYTHING else. but he chose the worst thing you could do to somebody#who is scared and in the closet and hurting#also yes santana’s written to be rude a lot of the time but her degree of rudeness in those episodes was Overplayed and def not in characte#like it didn’t feel much like santana’s brand of meanness it was 100% the writers trying to justify finn more because they continued to#-paint finn as the good guy who chose the high road… when that couldn’t be further from the truth thanks. he didn’t choose the high road he#-completely blackmailed santana and used her to make him look good basically. so you can’t change my mind on that Def being a writer issue#and just them Hating Women. especially santana. thanks.#also this is all coming from somebody who loves finn. so. 🤣#i fuckingggg hate seeing people say santana was mean and had no right to be doing all of that in those eps.. BITCH YES SHE DID#like in other eps sure (<- nuanced topic/take) but this one? No. she was justified IDGAF. should’ve been meaner
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still thinking abt the tumblrinx i encountered a while back whose pinned post said they were transmasc… and also demanded that men dni
like—i’m not confused by the convoluted not-like-the-other-boys doublethink that gets you there, i can follow the chain of illogic just fine, but i sure am deeply wearily depressed by it!
#i know plenty of good men—good cis men even! gasp!#and i just think like. if we can’t move away from‚ like‚ cold gender war how the fuck do we move forward#fundamentally like. 100% block people who have behaved towards you in ways you didn't like.#but like. this whole thing where ~afabs~ preemptively self-victimize by conjuring up the creepiest cishet man they can imagine#and self-harm by worrying abt that imaginary guy jacking off to them#is just like. i understand how it happens but it’s like. you’re actively doing negative visualization#and‚ like‚ preemptively self-victimizing#ime it feels a lot better to move through the world unworried‚ in the knowledge that if someone says sth gross to you: you can block them!#anyway ultimately i’m pretty clearly making this post bc i'm overdue to unfollow the tirfiest blogger i’m currently following#like. yeah loads of cishet men are shitheads but ~misandry~ is so last decade#and frankly i don’t have a lot more time for the cishet women who have bought into the same system—like i have some sympathy but.#these people all get warped by the system into complementary fucked-up cogs whose teeth bite into one another#and i’m just not interested in biting back—i want to leave all the biting behind in the dust of the junkyard that birthed it#and like. i don’t want to dismiss the oppression that births this sort of rhetoric. it's super real and it's toxic and it fucks people up.#but it’s like. when people have bad dads and then are like Dads R Always Bad!!!#and i’m just over here like. i don’t know how to say this without sounding like i’m invalidating you but my dad was a fucking saint tbh#not perfect dgmw but like. a sweet gentle encouraging man who got ground down by my mother’s toxic heel along with the rest of us#so like. actually not only are you closing yr eyes to a better future‚ yr closing yr eyes to other ppl’s lived realities#like i personally managed to have a totally life-ruining mother without deciding Mothers Are Ontologically Evil Actually!#idk. obviously women remain *enormously* systemically oppressed! but surely we can acknowledge and decry that without#implicitly rhetorically closing off any possibility of a gentler queerer gender dynamic?#anyway none of this is revolutionary i’m just like. i KNOW the fascists want to cut off my toes and force me into the glass slipper#of viciously constrained femininity#that in turn makes itself feel better by sneering at men‚ critiquing other women who Do It Wrong‚ and exerting control over children#so i have strong personal cause to care about misogyny even if i didn’t care about it in the abstract#but i just think like. acting like traditional gender roles and dynamics are a fixed truth we can only bruise ourselves on#instead of a human construction that we can undermine and work to topple#is not actually the path to a healed world in the long run!#anyway. beta edition post (thumbtyped & not reread): may contain bugs.
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