#we keep egging each other on

[vermillioncrown]

@rozaceous and i can't fucking help ourselves

leetol guys. the littlest. itty bitty.

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

Okay challenge mode. You are a therapist and Eridan Ampora from Homestuck has just walked right out of his intro page into your office. How do you fix him?

put him and karkat in a room with a pile of stuff and tell them they can't leave until they've jumped into it and talked about their feelings

[catboybiologist]

So.

Re: tumblr bans of transfemmes.

Let's ignore PhotoMatt for a moment. Manbaby tech CEO doubling down on a stupid decision and making himself look like more of an ass doing so is not a new phenomena.

Tumblr has consistently said, in both public statements and leaked internal communication, that they're essentially running a skeleton crew.

They keep saying that they don't have the resources to moderate, manually review posts, have any kind of appeal process, or anything. So, as people have widely received communications about, they seemed to have automated a significant portion of the moderation to operate solely on the quantity of reports (probably with a basic filter, eg quantity of reports regarding a certain post, within a certain timeframe) to automatically ban or shadowban accounts.

And so, they wipe their hands, both to the users, the public, and their own consciousness, and go about their automated operations.

All of this is likely true. Tumblr, at this point, is essentially abandonware internally, a kind of weird vanity project/dumpster ground for server infrastructure for Automattic. Likely, they don't want the bad press of "shutting down" fully. Or maybe the trickle of revenue they get here just barely exceeds operating costs, so why not keep it around?

Whatever is the case, the bans are a result of an automated process working in the background. I'm giving them some benefit of the doubt here, of course, we can't know anything for certain- but it seems like the individual bans are not based on any specific, manual action.

And that doesn't fucking excuse anything.

Because at some point, multiple people sat down at tumblr, and decided how to cut costs.

And they decided that the bare minimum of report abuse prevention was one of the first things on the chopping block.

Before the boops. Before GUI reconfigures.

They decided to cut something that is necessary to manage online communities.

They decided to cut something that ensures any targeted group will have any kind of community online.

And then, after all of that, the only manual intervention is doubling down on the shitty decisions that the automated systems make, and plucking reasons out of their ass for why they were the right decisions all along.

It's pure silicon valley brain. Blame the computer often and always. Use it to shield the active decisions you made when designing the computer that way. Treat it as a fact of life as opposed to something they actively made decisions for.

Is tumblr staff hitting the banhammer on each transfemme one by one? No.

Is tumblr staff deliberately crafting a system that allows TERFs and other conservative bigots to get rid of the "undesirables" for them? Yup. But they sure as hell are trying to not say the quiet part out loud. If they can always point the finger somewhere else, to the advertisers, to the automated systems, to the TERFs, then they can always have juuusssttt enough plausible deniability.

But being the "queerest place on the internet" requires concious acknowledgement that queer people will be targets of harassment, and you will have to protect against that.

Side note, this is why I do try to keep my blog at least somewhat SFW. Its one of the main reasons why I choose not to reblog all of the posts I'm tagged in- if the post is overtly NSFW, I've probably seen it, appreciated it, and consciously decided my level of interaction with it mostly based on how "tumblr friendly" it is. Is that bowing down to them? A little. It's also my choice. I value the community I have here. The pushes that y'all have given me gave me the strength to transition, and honestly gives me a lot of motivation to research HRT biology as much as I can, among many other things.

Yeah, I post pictures that are clearly meant to be found attractive in ways that are generally not socially acceptable , but never actual NSFW. I would like to think that I'm pretty safe from bans, but hey. Who knows. I don't want to lose my follower base, and the community around it.

And yeah, I'm gonna annoyingly remind you of the other places to find me, make sure to check my pin. If you don't know where to go, just find me on reddit and go from there, I'll post about it if anything happens.

[luveline]

hey! i wanted to request r with a best friend!marauder, and she feels guilty for being a clingy/touchy bsf? eg. always holds hands and loops arms together and loves hugs. but said marauder comforts her? thank you jadey

The steps off of the bus feel especially steep on just four hours sleep. You’re not dizzy, but when James offers his hand from the ground, you accept it. Much less scary to know he could catch you if you slipped. 

“I’m surprised we weren’t holding hands already,” he says, giving yours a squeeze as you land, and pulling you to the side where the already departed rugby team and their family members wait for their luggage to be retrieved from the bus’ belly.

“Oh, I know,” you say. There’s an odd awkwardness to it that you’re trying to bury. 

James is used to you. Your hand in his is casual, perhaps a little too much for company, but it’s just hand-holding. You like feeling that he’s near, the slight chill of British summer more readily suffered with his palm against yours. He runs hot. 

He lets your joined hands swing gently with the wait, doesn’t bother letting it go until the luggage is all out. James grabs his duffel bag and your suitcase, and everyone makes their way to the hotel. It’s late —the team were expecting to be here much sooner but there had been a punctured tire, and then an accident on the M4. James will have to play the game tomorrow with less hours of sleep than intended, but he’ll play well. 

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet,” James says a little later, when you’ve shoved your suitcase under the double bed. He turns off the big light. 

“That is an uncharacteristically large word.” 

“Loser,” he says, pushing down the blankets to sit next to you. He rubs his mouth and nose, then he turns to you, all business. “You are quiet, though. What’s the matter? Still feel poorly?” 

“I feel fine.” 

“You look awful.” He winces at his own harshness. “You look upset, sorry. And you still have sleep in your eyes, let me–”

You sigh and tilt your head up for him to scratch the sleep from your eye. For a moment, it’s quiet, just your face in his hand, his fingernail against the delicate inside of your eye. “Do you ever think we’re too close?” 

“Not really. Sometimes when you kick me in your sleep, maybe.” He takes back his hands. 

“You don’t care that I’m, like, constantly on you? I don’t know, like earlier, when you helped me off of the bus. Most friends wouldn’t keep holding on to each other after, but we do.” 

“Most friends wouldn’t take a nine hour bus just to see me play an away game, so…” James gives you a little poke in the ribs. “But we aren’t friends, we’re best friends. So what if we want to hold hands? That’s our business.” 

You frown. “You really don’t care? Even when I’m harassing you for hugs and stuff?” Nausea sits in your chest, waiting for him to say, Yeah, actually, the hugging is a bit much. 

“Babe, I love you,” James says, his glasses slipping down his nose as he gives a shake of the head. His eyebrows are pinched in confusion, but his mouth is softening. “How long have you been thinking about this?” 

“I just don’t want to be a burden.” 

“You’re never a burden.” He opens his arms. 

You crawl into his embrace, reassured by his chin where it digs into your forehead, and his warm voice. 

“You don’t bother me. We bother each other, right? We fight like kids. I love it, I wouldn’t trade our friendship for anything.” He pauses. Hums. “‘Cept a Big Mac. I’m starving, I can’t believe we got stuck on the motorway like that.” 

“You’d trade me for a Big Mac?” 

“In a moment of weakness.” 

His smile curves against your head. His arms settle on your back. It’s the same as every other hug you’ve shared, warm and easy. “I wouldn’t,” he murmurs, “I don’t know why you’re worried about being too much, but don’t bother. You’re touchy, I’m touchy, we’re affectionate people.” 

“I spent too long on that stupid bus,” you say, dropping your flushed face into his shoulder. 

“You definitely did. Why would I care about you hugging me too much?” His hand moves gently up and down. “You give the best hugs around.” 

[mononijikayu]

delicate — geto suguru.

Suguru glared at Gojo. “I’m not concerned, I just—” “Uh–uhuh, keep talking.” “I’m just some friend—acquaintance. Worried.” Suguru narrowed his eyes. “Seriously, Satoru. I don’t know what you’re going on about. If I'm in love with them, shoot me.” Without missing a beat, Gojo grinned, “Bang.” He made a playful gun gesture with his hand and gave Suguru a wide grin. “Cupid’s bullets confirm!”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Modern AU!;

WARNING/s: Fluff, Romance,, Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Friendship, Confessions, Humor, Getting Together, Mutual Affection, Love, Pining, Kissing, Profanity, Mention of Fighting, Mention of Bruising, Outcast! Geto Suguru, Popular Cheerleader!Reader;

WORDS: 6.9k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: i made this while thinking about what dynamic i wanted to see between cute couples. and here we are. this was supposed to be shorter too, but it ended up way way longer than 4k words. but im satisfied with this. i hope you enjoy!!! i love you all <3

ADDENDUM: i just found out gege akutami said jjk ends in five chapters and i just want to say that this is going to be hard for me since ive been a fan since 2019.

but i will say ill continue to write as much as i can for this story, enjoy the anime with you for years to come. im sad of course, but im thankful. im grateful for gege akutami for letting me meet his lovely story and his bountiful characters.

and of course because of him, i met all of you. i am very grateful. from beginning to end. i am crying but i am happy too. i love jjk a lot you guys. hugs and kisses to manga fans everywhere. lets hope for a happy end to the story we have loved 🥹🫶

main masterlist

kayu's playlist - side 900;

if you want to, tip! <3

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🌌*ੈ𑁍༘⋆

YOU WEREN’T LIKE EVERYONE ELSE. You were the it-girl, so sought after. The shining star. You were the girl everyone wanted to be—effortlessly beautiful, charming, and the center of attention at Jujutsu College. As a cheerleader, you had it all: the admiration of your peers, the envy of others, and the kind of popularity that opened every door.

Everywhere you went, eyes followed. Whispers trailed in your wake, a symphony of awe and envy that only fueled your rise to the top. You were untouchable, your smile a weapon, your presence a force. Parties, events, and the campus buzzed with your name. Everyone wanted to be near you, to bask in the glow of your effortless charisma. But all of that came crashing down when you chose to stand up for what you believed was right.

The whispers got worse the moment they took to the locker room. One of the newer cheerleaders, a girl named Emi, was their target—shy, awkward, and an easy mark for their cruelty. You watched it unfold for days, biting your tongue, hoping it would stop. They were the same, the seniors who already graduated. You let them do it then, because you hoped they’d stop like the seniors did. But they did not. Instead, it went too far.

You looked at them for a moment, trying not to be obvious. This was going too far. The girl was about to cry, maybe she’d even get even more hurt. This is enough. You cannot stay and just stay silent anymore. Maybe it was the memory of your own first days on the squad, when you weren’t yet the queen bee, when you still had something to prove. Or maybe it was just a sense of fairness that you couldn’t ignore. But you knew that this had to stop. This has to end.

"God, Emi, you can’t even get a basic cheer right. Why are you even here?" one of the girls sneered, her voice dripping with disdain.

Emi stood frozen, her eyes welling up with tears. The other cheerleaders laughed, egging each other on, pushing her closer to the edge. You bit your lip, closing your locker with a loud bang, causing everyone to look at you. You could feel Emi’s eyes on you too, shaking with fear as tears fell from her cheeks. 

“Leave her alone, you freaks!” you said, your voice sharp as you stepped forward. “That is enough. She doesn’t deserve this. You’ve gone too far, even more than our seniors!”

They turned to you, surprise flickering across their faces before it morphed into mockery. You moved forward to the captain, eyes narrowed as you glared at her. You shook your head at her. “Just leave her alone. She’s a freshman. She doesn’t need your shit.”

“What, are you her knight in shining armor now?” one of the lackeys taunted, crossing her arms. “You’re supposed to be on our side, aren’t you? This is a tradition for us seniors.”

“I’m on the side that’s not full of bullies.” you shot back, your anger boiling over. “Being bullied doesn’t mean you should be one!”

“What’s your problem?” another girl snapped, stepping closer, her tone threatening. “She’s dead weight, and you know it.”

You clenched your fists, trying to keep your temper in check. “My problem is that you’re all acting like a bunch of jerks. If you can’t see that, then maybe you’re the dead weight.”

The tension in the room exploded like a storm that had been brewing for too long. You could feel it in the way the air seemed to thicken, in the way eyes narrowed and lips curled into sneers. It started with a harsh word—one of those sly, cutting remarks that slid under the skin like a blade. But this time, you couldn’t let it slide. Not when it was aimed at Emi, the quiet girl who had been on the receiving end of too many of those slights.

You were on your feet before you even realized it, the words spilling out of you in a rush of anger and defiance. “What’s your problem? Why do you always have to pick on someone who’s done nothing to you?”

Your voice cut through the chatter, silencing the room. The others stared at you, shocked that you—of all people—would dare to break ranks. The lead cheerleader, the queen bee, glared at you, her eyes narrowed into slits. “What, are you her bodyguard now? Don’t act like you’re better than us.”

It was the spark that lit the fire. The room erupted into chaos as insults were hurled back and forth. You didn’t back down, not when they turned their barbs on you, not when they sneered at Emi. It all escalated so fast—too fast. Suddenly, hands were shoving, nails were scratching, and before you knew it, you were in the middle of a full-blown fight.

You could barely make sense of it all. The adrenaline surged through you, drowning out the pain as someone’s fist connected with your cheek, leaving a nasty bruise that would bloom later. All you could think about was protecting Emi, keeping her out of the fray, even as the world around you descended into chaos.

The chaos only ended when the coaches rushed in, their voices booming as they waded into the mess of tangled limbs and flaring tempers. They pulled you all apart, demanding to know what had happened, their faces a mix of shock and anger.

But it was too late—the damage was done. You could see it in their eyes, the way they looked at you now, like you were the problem. The principal was called in, and you found yourself standing in his office, staring at the floor as he lectured you about school spirit and the responsibilities that came with your position.

Your words fell on deaf ears. They didn’t want to hear about the bullying, about how you were just trying to protect Emi. All they saw was the fight, the disruption, and the girl who had gone from golden to tarnished in a matter of minutes.

When you returned to the locker room, it was like a slap in the face. Your things had been removed from your team locker, stuffed unceremoniously into a bag and left on the floor. You were no longer welcome. The cheerleaders, the same girls who had once been your closest friends, looked at you with cold eyes and turned their backs.

You had wanted to protect Emi, and now you were left with a throbbing bruise, a reprimand from the principal, and a cold emptiness where your friends used to be. But even as you walked out of that locker room, head held high despite everything, you knew you’d do it all over again. Because some things were worth fighting for, even if it meant losing everything else.

The next day, you found yourself officially kicked off the squad. Well, Emi was also kicked out too, but you were glad that she wasn’t at all hurt. That was what mattered. The news spread like wildfire, and the people who once idolized you now whispered behind your back. Your world felt like it was crumbling, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d made the biggest mistake of your life.

Later that afternoon, you found yourself sitting alone outside, trying to process everything that had happened. Emi had repeatedly apologized to you today, but you kept waving her off and told her to stay safe around school. It wasn’t really her fault. Maybe if you had acted much earlier, maybe Emi wouldn’t have had to go through the worst. Perhaps this was your punishment. This was what happened because of your inaction. And you feel like you deserve this. You deserve to be punished like this. You could only sigh.

That’s when you heard someone approaching.

“You know, I always thought cheerleaders were supposed to be a tight-knit group.” a voice drawled. 

You looked up to see Gojo Satoru standing there, hands in his pockets, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. “Guess I was wrong, huh?”

“Guess so.” you muttered, feeling the sting of his words even though they weren’t meant to hurt. “I’m sorry, have I met you before?”

“I don’t think so.” He says, removing his round sunglasses. “Have we met before too?”

“Don’t think so.” You admitted also, face scrunching in confusion. “I don’t meddle around with unpopular kids.”

“Hey, hey, I’m not unpopular.”

“Then why have I never heard of your name before?” You raised your brow.

“I don’t know, maybe you were too focused on being a cheerleader and me being a Digimon stan?” 

“Oh, so you’re a nerd!” You clapped your hands together. “That makes sense why I haven’t heard about you.”

He sighed. “You cheerleaders are cut throats, aren’t you?”

“I’m an ex–cheerleader now. Not really much of a cheerleader anymore.” You snickered. “Those pom pom waving mean girls, goodbye them!”

He plopped down next to you, stretching out his long legs. “So, what’s the plan now? Are you gonna go all lone wolf, or are you open to a new company?”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Why do you care?”

Gojo shrugged, his smile widening. “Because I’m curious about the girl who went from queen bee to outcast in one day. That takes guts.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, though it came out a little bitter. “Or stupidity.”

“Or both, you know?” he agreed easily. “But I like guts. So does Shoko. And Suguru. And Kento and Haibara. You’d fit right in with us.”

“Fit in?” you echoed, not sure if he was being serious. Your face reminded Satoru of how Kento reacted to him asking to be his friend. 

“Yeah.” he said, leaning back on his hands, looking up at the sky. “We’re not exactly the most popular kids on campus, but we’re fun. And we don’t care about that petty stuff.”

Before you could respond, Shoko Ieiri appeared, hands stuffed in her lab coat pockets, a cigarette dangling from her lips. “You’re not bothering her, are you, Gojo?”

“Me? Bother someone? Never, Sho.” Gojo said, feigning innocence. “Just making a new friend.”

Shoko rolled her eyes and looked at you. “He’s right, though. You’re welcome to hang with us if you want.”

You hesitated, glancing between them. “I don’t know…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Shoko said with a lazy grin. “We don’t bite. Well, maybe Gojo does, but only if you ask nicely.”

You laughed again, this time more genuinely. “Okay… I guess I’ll give it a shot.”

As the days passed, you found yourself drifting away from the cheerleaders and into a new circle. It started subtly at first, with Gojo casually inviting you to sit with him and Shoko during lunch. Gojo’s easygoing nature made it hard to say no, and Shoko’s dry humor quickly drew you in. 

They didn’t seem to care about the drama that had turned your life upside down. Gojo’s bright grin and carefree attitude were a stark contrast to the cold shoulders you’d been getting from your former friends. Shoko, with her sharp wit and laid-back demeanor, offered a kind of friendship that felt refreshing, real in a way that the cheerleading squad never had.

Soon, Geto Suguru and Nanami Kento joined in. Suguru had a quiet confidence about him, a steady presence that was both comforting and intriguing. He didn’t ask about the fight or why you weren’t with the cheerleaders anymore. Instead, he offered a warm smile and an understanding nod, as if he knew without needing to be told.

Nanami, on the other hand, was more reserved. He didn’t speak much at first, but his presence was reassuring. There was a steadiness to him, a sense of reliability that you hadn’t realized you craved. He welcomed you into their group with a subtle nod, a small but genuine gesture that told you he saw you for who you were now, not who you had been before.

Each of them, in their own way, made room for you. They didn’t treat you like the fallen star or the girl with the tarnished reputation. With them, you didn’t have to pretend. You could be yourself—no masks, no expectations.And slowly, you began to feel something you hadn’t felt in a long time: belonging.

That afternoon, all of you were sitting together under a tree on campus, watching the world go by. Geto Suguru was in the middle of explaining something, his voice calm and soothing, while Nanami listened quietly, offering his thoughts every now and then. Yu was more excited trying to make friends with you than before. You think it's interesting, how this ball of sunshine saw you as some sort of superhero for what you did, even if you didn’t.

Yu Haibara, ever the sunshine in human form, plopped down beside you with a grin. “Hey, I heard about what happened with the cheer squad. Pretty badass, if you ask me.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of genuine friendship for the first time in what felt like forever. “Thanks. I wasn’t sure if it was the right thing, but…”

“It was! You’re so cool, you know?” Haibara said firmly. “Standing up for someone who needed it? That’s always the right thing.”

“Besides, it’s just what it is, you know?” Geto added, looking over at you. He was smoking his cigarette roll, one he made himself. “You don’t have to be what you aren’t.”

“Yeah.” Nanami agreed, his voice steady and reassuring. “You don’t have to pretend to be something you’re not with us.”

You looked around at them—this group of people who had taken you in without hesitation, who saw you for who you really were, not just the image you had projected for so long. And for the first time in a while, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

As the weeks went by, you found a surprising sense of belonging with Gojo, Shoko, Suguru, Nanami, and Yu. They had become your new circle of friends, and their acceptance gave you a fresh start that you didn’t know you needed. They were a new sort of fun, a different kind of excitement that was worlds apart from the polished, high-pressure life you’d known as the it-girl.

With them, your days became filled with spontaneous adventures. Gojo was always dragging everyone to the arcade, where his competitive streak made every game feel like a high-stakes challenge. Shoko would roll her eyes at his antics but still join in, her laughter adding to the cacophony of beeping machines and cheerful music. Suguru, ever the cool-headed one, had a knack for choosing the perfect music stores to visit, introducing you to tracks that soon became the soundtrack to this new chapter of your life.

Nanami and Suguru were more reserved, especially at first. You could tell they were still feeling you out, trying to figure out if you really fit into their group. But even in their uncertainty, they made an effort. Nanami, despite his serious demeanor, would show up at the burger joints Gojo loved, quietly indulging in the greasy food and ridiculous banter. Suguru, with his calm presence, would often give you a slight smile or a nod, a small but significant sign that you were being welcomed, even if it was cautiously.

Yu was the glue that held it all together, his infectious energy and boundless enthusiasm pulling everyone along. Satoru was as enthusiastic as he was, but unlike him — Yu was someone that tried to keep everyone in good peace together. And he was good. He had a way of making you feel included, whether it was by handing you a spare controller at the arcade or making sure you got the best seat at the burger joint.

That’s just how it was with them. You didn’t have to worry about the petty dramas or the constant pressure to be perfect. With this group, it was all about the moment—the thrill of a high score, the taste of a greasy burger, the discovery of a new song. And you liked it. You liked who you were becoming with them.

Gojo leaned back in his chair, tossing a sugar packet from one hand to the other. “You know, you fit in with us better than you did with that cheer squad.”

You shot him a playful glare. “Are you saying I was too good for them?”

Shoko rolled her eyes. “Stop teasing, Gojo. You’re ruining the vibe.”

“Hey, I’m not!” Gojo argues as  his grin spreads, “Just that our new friend here is way cooler than they ever gave them credit for.”

You looked at Shoko, who was sipping her coffee with a look of amused tolerance, added, “He’s right. They were just too busy with their drama to see how awesome you are.”

Suguru, sitting across from you, offered a more thoughtful observation. He bit into his fries. “Sometimes, it takes getting knocked down to realize where you truly belong. You were always meant to be with people who appreciate you for who you are.”

Nanami, who had been quietly observing, nodded in agreement. “You’re a good blend with us, I think. We’ve had a lot of fun since you joined us.”

Yu Haibara, always the optimist, leaned in with a grin. “Yeah, and you’ve made things a lot more interesting around here. It’s not every day we get someone with your… spirit.”

You smiled, feeling a warm flush of gratitude. “Thanks, guys. I wasn’t sure where I’d fit in after everything that happened, but I really appreciate how welcoming you’ve all been.”

The conversation shifted to lighter topics, and you found yourself laughing more than you had in a long time. It was a refreshing change from the pressure and pretense of your previous life. 

As the night wore on, Gojo suddenly stood up and stretched. “Hey, who’s up for a late-night walk? I heard there’s a new food truck downtown.”

Shoko raised an eyebrow. “You just want an excuse to get more snacks.”

“Guilty as charged.” Gojo admitted with a wink. “But you’re all welcome to join if you’re up for it.”

“Sounds good to me.” Suguru said, standing up and grabbing his coat. 

You looked around at your friends, feeling a genuine sense of contentment. “I’m in.”

“You feeling cold?” Suguru asked as he saw you stand from the booth. 

“A little—” He threw you his jacket, which you were barely able to catch.

“Put it on.”

“O–oh, okay.”

As you all walked together through the city streets, the cool night air filled with laughter and conversation, you realized how different this life felt from the one you had left behind. There were no superficial judgments, no hidden agendas—just a group of people who valued each other’s company and had each other’s backs.

Later, as you shared food and stories under the streetlights, you found yourself in a moment of quiet reflection. You had come so far from the popular girl who had been kicked out of the cheer squad. You were no longer defined by your past status or the mistakes you’d made. Instead, you were part of a new chapter, one where you were valued for who you truly were.

Gojo’s laughter broke through your thoughts as he tossed a piece of popcorn into the air, catching it with a grin. “See? This is what life’s about—good friends, good food, and not taking things too seriously.”

You laughed, feeling the weight of the past lift off your shoulders. “I couldn’t agree more.”

In that moment, you knew that despite everything you had been through, you had found something real and genuine. And as you walked beside your new friends, you felt a renewed sense of hope for the future, knowing that wherever life took you next, you would face it with people who truly cared about you.

But in that moment, Geto Suguru looked at you and thought to himself for a moment, just for that moment — how good happiness looks on you.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🌌*ੈ𑁍༘⋆

IF HE WAS BEING HONEST, HE’S NOT ONE TO TRUST PEOPLE EASILY. But coming from a rough place in life, it was something that can’t be helped. So, in the beginning, Geto Suguru had his reservations about you. He’d heard the rumors about the cheerleader who had once been the queen of Jujutsu College, and he wasn’t impressed. To him, you seemed like just another snob who was used to getting their way and couldn’t be bothered with anyone outside her circle.

When Gojo tried to blend you into the group, Suguru’s attitude was guarded, and for a good reason. So, he kept his distance and even interacted with you, he tried to be casual, trying to not get too deep into it.

He remembers what he said then — “I’m not really into the whole ‘cheerleader’ thing,” he’d said with a shrug. “Not my style. So they're still not my style either.”

You had sensed his cold demeanor but tried not to let it bother you. Instead, you focused on being yourself—friendly, outgoing, and always ready to lend a hand. You wanted to prove that you weren’t just the image people had of you. Even though you could still be rough in the edges with your personality, it didn’t stop people from enjoying your company. 

And over time, Geto Suguru began to see a different side of you. You didn’t just laugh at his jokes or offer superficial compliments, nor were you as stuck up as people make you out to be; you were genuinely kind and considerate. You had a really good way of making others feel comfortable, and it wasn’t long before he found himself intrigued by the real you, the one who went out of their way to help others despite their own struggles.

One evening, as the group hung out at a quiet park, you were sitting on the grass, talking animatedly about a new project you were excited about. If he was being honest, excitement was a beautiful color on you. And he thinks that he wants to see more of that in you. He could only sigh as he thought about how much you’ve occupied his mind. He shakes his head. Suguru looks above the sky, trying to distract himself while Satoru spoke to everyone about his new date. 

“You know, Suguru.” you said, glancing over at him, snapping him back to reality. “I really appreciate how you’ve been around lately. And how not awkward it is between us now. It means a lot to me.”

Suguru raised an eyebrow. “I’m just here because Gojo dragged me along. Don’t get any ideas.”

You laughed, unfazed. “Yeah, yeah. But seriously, you’re not as bad as I thought you’d be. I guess we’re not so different after all.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe. But don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not here to make friends. I’m here because I have to be.”

Despite his words, you noticed subtle changes in his behavior. He was more engaged in conversations around you, his smiles more frequent, and he’d even started teasing you back. You found yourself drawn to him more and more, your feelings shifting from admiration to something deeper. The way he would look at you, even with his usual aloofness, made your heart race. 

After a particularly lively conversation about your favorite books, Suguru caught you off guard with a rare moment of vulnerability. He looked at you with an intensity that made your breath hitch. 

“You’re really persistent, you know that?” he said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “I didn’t think I’d be saying this, but you’ve managed to get under my skin.”

You grinned, feeling a rush of hope. “Is that a good thing?”

Suguru looked away, his expression turning more serious. “I’m not sure. I told myself I’d just tolerate you, but… the more I hang around, the harder it is to keep my distance.”

He was fighting it, trying to convince himself that his growing feelings for you were nothing more than an annoyance. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do.” he continued, frustration evident in his voice. “But I’m not someone who easily changes his mind. So don’t expect too much.”

Despite his words, there was a softness in his eyes when he looked at you, a clear sign that he was fighting a losing battle. The more you interacted, the more he found himself charmed by your genuine warmth and infectious enthusiasm. And he didn’t know what to feel about that. He doesn’t know how to react to you.

You were infatuated with him, and it became clear that you wanted his attention—more than just casual conversation, more than friendly banter. You wanted to be the one who made him smile, the one he thought about when he was alone.

And though Suguru tried to keep his distance, you could see the cracks in his resolve. His stoic exterior was melting away, little by little, with every shared laugh, every meaningful conversation. He couldn’t deny the way he felt any longer, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise.

In moments of quiet, when it was just the two of you, Geto Suguru’s demeanor softened. He would catch himself gazing at you with an expression that betrayed his irritation with his own feelings. He was torn between his desire to remain aloof and the undeniable pull he felt towards you. As you continued to be your bubbly, charming self, Suguru found himself drawn to you more and more, fighting a battle he wasn’t sure he wanted to win.

The house party was in full swing by the time you and your friends arrived. The sorority house was buzzing with energy, and the crowd was a mix of familiar faces and new ones. You were excited to be there, especially because you had a date with you—Mark, a guy you had been seeing for a few weeks. 

Suguru Geto, always the reserved observer, was there too, though he seemed more detached from the festivities. He had taken a spot near the snack table, his gaze scanning the room. When he noticed you with Mark, he gave a curt nod but didn’t say much.

As the night progressed, Suguru found himself cornered by Mark, who was chatting animatedly with a group of people. You had gone off to mingle with others, leaving Mark to his own devices. Suguru, being the stand-up guy he was, decided to introduce himself.

“Hey, I’m Suguru.” he said, offering a polite smile. “So, what’s your story, bro?”

Mark took a swig of his drink and grinned. “Oh, I’m just here to have a good time, mess around, party hard. You know how it is.”

Suguru nodded, trying to make conversation. “Yeah, I get it. So, how long have you and my friend been seeing each other?”

Mark’s smile faltered slightly. “A few weeks. But, honestly, they're kind of a handful.”

Suguru’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he kept his tone neutral. “Oh? How so?”

Mark shrugged, looking around to make sure no one else was listening. “They’re always so cheerful and in-your-face. It gets old pretty fast. And don’t get me started on their mood swings. Sometimes they’re all sunshine and other times, they’re just… exhausting.”

Suguru’s smile faltered, and he could feel a simmering anger rising. “I wouldn’t say that. They’re actually really kind and caring. Maybe they’re just passionate around you.”

Mark snorted. “Passionate? More like over–dramatic. You must be used to it, though, considering you hang out with them.”

Suguru’s jaw tightened. “I think you should stop talking about them like that.”

Mark raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the reaction he was getting. “Why? It’s the truth. You know, they could be a lot better if they just… toned it down a bit.”

Suguru’s eyes darkened as he took a deep breath. “Seriously, stop it.”

Mark continued, oblivious to Suguru’s mounting frustration. “They’re always making everything about themselves, always trying to be the center of attention. I don’t get why you’d even bother with them. They’re literally like….a bitch..”

Without warning, Suguru’s hand tightened around his beer bottle. He took a step forward, his voice low and dangerous. “I said, stop.”

The tension in the room was thick, a simmering undercurrent that everyone felt but no one acknowledged—until Mark pushed too far. He had been needling Suguru all night, his criticisms growing more pointed, more personal with each passing minute. The rest of you tried to steer the conversation away, but Mark wouldn’t let it go, his words becoming sharper, crueler.

Suguru had been holding back, his calm facade cracking only slightly as he tried to keep his temper in check. But when Mark ignored him and continued with his relentless criticisms, something inside Suguru snapped.

In an instant, he moved. With a swift, fluid motion, Suguru swung his beer bottle, the action so smooth it was almost graceful. The bottle connected with Mark’s face with a sharp crack. The impact was immediate and satisfying, sending Mark stumbling backward as beer splashed across the floor, the bottle shattering in Suguru’s hand.

The room fell into stunned silence.

“Goddamn it, Suguru!” Shoko’s voice was the first to break the quiet, a mix of shock and exasperation. She stepped forward, ready to pull Suguru back if needed, though there was a slight smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. “Couldn’t you have at least waited until he finished his drink?”

Nanami, who had been lounging in the corner, raised an eyebrow but didn’t move from his spot. “Well, that escalated quickly.”

Shoko sighed deeply, looking around. “I’ll call someone to clean this up. And maybe get some ice for Mark.”

Mark, clutching his face where Suguru had punched him, looked up in stunned disbelief. “What the hell, man? You’re crazy!”

Suguru’s eyes were cold as he glared down at him. “No. I’m done listening to your crap. You should’ve known when to shut up.”

“You all are a bunch of crazy freaks! Especially that bitch!”

“You don’t get to talk about them like that!” Suguru said, his voice steady but filled with a cold edge. “Not on my watch.”

Mark looked up at him, a mix of pain and surprise in his eyes. He didn’t say anything, just backed away slowly, still holding his nose. Yu came between them. “Hey, hey. Let’s all calm down, okay?”

Suguru turned on his heel and walked away, heading outside to cool down. He needed some fresh air and space to collect his thoughts. You, having witnessed the altercation from a distance, rushed over to Suguru, concern etched on your face.

You spotted Suguru standing alone in the hallway, his gaze distant as he tried to calm down from the confrontation. Determined to get some answers, you made a beeline for him, your concern and curiosity palpable.

“Suguru, what happened back there?” you asked, trying to piece together the events of the night. “Why did you hit Mark?”

Suguru glanced at you, his expression a mix of embarrassment and frustration. “It was nothing. He just… he crossed a line.”

“No,” you said, putting the pieces together with a sudden burst of realization. “He called me a bitch, didn’t he? That’s why you hit him. You hit him for me!”

Suguru looked away, his cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. “No, that’s not—”

“Yes, it is!” you interrupted, your excitement and relief bubbling over. “I know I can be a lot sometimes, and I am a bitch! But you actually care about me. You love me, don’t you?”

Suguru’s face turned a deeper shade of red, and he mumbled, “No…I didn’t…”

Suguru’s thoughts were still a whirlwind, his mind racing to process the events of the night and the emotions that came with them. He needed to clear his head, and talking to Gojo seemed like the quickest way to do that. He excused himself and quickly went back inside. As he entered the kitchen, the room was a stark contrast to the chaos outside—bright, warm, and filled with the comforting aroma of Gojo Satoru’s sandwich-making.

Gojo stood by the counter, casually assembling a towering sandwich with practiced ease. His movements were relaxed and carefree, a stark contrast to the tension that Suguru was radiating. He glanced up, taking in the scene with a curious, slightly amused expression.

“What’s going on, man?” Gojo asked, his tone light as he continued to layer on the ingredients. “I heard there was a bit of a commotion.”

Suguru tried to compose himself, but the frustration was evident in his voice. “Mark was being a complete jerk. He was bad-mouthing them, and I… I lost my temper.”

Gojo raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “He was talking about them? What did he say?”

Suguru’s jaw clenched as he recounted the encounter. “He kept going on about how they are a handful and how they’re exhausting. He was just being really disrespectful. Even called them a bitch, mind you!”

Gojo’s eyebrows knitted together in surprise. “And you punched him for it?”

Suguru nodded, his gaze intense. “Yeah, I did. He wouldn’t stop, and I just couldn’t let him keep talking like that.”

Gojo’s expression shifted from amusement to genuine concern. “Are they okay?”

Suguru’s frustration softened a bit as he considered your well-being. “They’re fine. I mean, they did seem surprised, maybe in some way upset, I don’t know. But they’re okay. It’s just… I don’t like seeing them being talked about like that.”

Gojo’s eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and understanding. “So, you’re defending them, huh?”

Suguru’s face flushed slightly, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not just about defending them. It’s just—”

Gojo looked up from his sandwich-making with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah, but is your lover okay?”

Suguru froze, caught off guard. “They are not my lover, Gojo.” he snapped, defensively. “They are just—”

Gojo’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Oh? Then why’d you hit him? Seems like you’re more concerned than you’re letting on.”

Suguru glared at Gojo. “I’m not concerned, I just—”

“Uh–uhuh, keep talking.”

“I’m just some friend—acquaintance. Worried.” Suguru narrowed his eyes. “Seriously, Satoru. I don’t know what you’re going on about. If I'm in love with them, shoot me.”

Without missing a beat, Gojo grinned, “Bang.” He made a playful gun gesture with his hand and gave Suguru a wide grin. “Cupid’s bullets confirm!”

Suguru stared at him, dumbfounded. “Are you serious? This is not—”

Gojo laughed, clearly enjoying the confusion. “Just kidding, Suguru. You know I’m just messing with you.”

Suguru sighed heavily, his frustration giving way to a reluctant chuckle. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Gojo shrugged, still grinning. “Just having a bit of fun. But seriously, if you need to talk or if something’s going on, I’m here. Just don’t let things like this get you too worked up.”

Suguru nodded, a mix of relief and embarrassment on his face. “Thanks, Gojo. I guess I needed that.”

With a final, reassuring pat on Suguru’s shoulder, Gojo returned to his sandwich-making. He took a deep breath and went back outside. You were talking with Shoko when you noticed Suguru come back outside towards your way. You were about to speak when Suguru turned back to you. There was a softer, more earnest look in his eyes as he met your gaze.

He looked at you with a determination, his voice steady but kind. “Take your coat, doll.” he said, offering it to you. “We’re getting out of here.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his sudden decision but relieved by the prospect of escaping the party. Without protest, you slipped on your coat and followed him out into the cool night air. The contrast between the cold outside and the warmth of the party was a welcome change, the crisp air a refreshing balm against your senses.

As you walked to the parking lot, Suguru’s silence was a comforting presence. His demeanor was calm and purposeful, a stark contrast to the turbulence of the evening. He led you to his car, and you both got in, the engine’s hum a soothing sound against the backdrop of the night.

Soon enough, you found yourselves parked in the lot of a nearby fast-food chain. The neon lights of the restaurant flickered against the dark sky, casting an almost surreal glow over the scene. It felt like a world away from the party, a simple, unpretentious refuge.

Suguru ordered a handful of burgers and fries, his movements deliberate and focused. You followed suit, choosing your favorites with a sense of familiarity. As you both settled on the hood of the car, the comfort of the fast food and the tranquility of the night began to ease the tension.

You took a bite of your burger, the flavors surprisingly comforting. Despite the simplicity of the setting, there was something deeply satisfying about the moment. “This is the best date ever.” you said with a grin, the warmth of the food and Suguru’s presence making the night feel a little brighter.

Suguru looked at you, a bemused expression on his face. “We haven’t talked in half an hour.”

“That doesn’t matter,” you said, shaking your head. “It’s nice just being with you, even if this doesn’t seem like much.”

Suguru looked away, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “It’s not as bad as going bowling.”

You blinked, puzzled. “Bowling? I didn’t know you liked bowling.”

He shrugged, leaning back against the car. “I do. It’s something I enjoy, and being with you is kind of like that—enjoyable and relaxing, even if it’s not always fancy.”

You tilted your head, contemplating his words. Then, feeling bold, you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. Suguru’s eyes widened slightly, but he responded, kissing you back with a tenderness that melted away any remaining tension.

When you finally parted, you looked up at him, a soft smile on your lips. “Not too bad?”

Suguru’s gaze softened as he met your eyes, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “Not too bad.” he agreed, his voice warm.

You both shared a comfortable silence, the world outside the fast-food restaurant feeling a million miles away. As you finished your burgers and settled back into a peaceful quiet, you knew that despite everything, moments like these were what mattered most.

You and Suguru remained on the car hood, finishing off the last of your burgers. The night was crisp and clear, the occasional hum of passing cars providing a steady backdrop to your conversation.

“So, what’s your favorite part about bowling?” you asked, genuinely curious and trying to keep the mood light.

Suguru chuckled, a soft sound that warmed the chilly air. “It’s the combination of skill and luck, I guess. Plus, it’s fun to just throw the ball and watch it knock down the pins. It’s simple, but satisfying.”

You smiled, enjoying his enthusiasm. “Maybe we should go bowling sometime. It sounds like it could be a lot of fun.”

Suguru’s eyes twinkled as he looked at you. “I’d like that. I think you’d be pretty good at it. You’ve got a good arm from throwing those frisbees around at the park.”

You laughed, leaning into him. “You think so? I’ll hold you to that.”

Suguru wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. “It’s a promise.”

The warmth of his embrace was comforting, and you snuggled closer, resting your head on his shoulder. The night was quiet, and for a while, you just enjoyed the peacefulness of the moment.

Suguru glanced at you, his expression softening even further. “You know, despite everything that happened tonight, I’m really glad we ended up here. I like these moments with you. They remind me of why I care so much.”

You tilted your head up to look at him, your eyes reflecting the soft glow of the streetlights. “Me too, Suguru. It’s the simple things, like eating burgers and talking about bowling, that make me realize how much I enjoy being with you.”

Suguru gave a small, affectionate smile, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek. “Sometimes, it’s the simple things that mean the most.”

You sighed contentedly, feeling a deep sense of connection. “I guess that’s true. And, even though tonight didn’t go as planned, it ended up being pretty perfect in its own way.”

Suguru chuckled softly, his gaze fixed on you. “Yeah, it did.”

You both sat there for a while longer, sharing soft kisses and quiet laughter, savoring the simplicity of the moment. The night air was cool, but the warmth between you made it feel like the coziest place in the world.

Eventually, Suguru shifted slightly, pulling you closer as he gave you a tender kiss on the forehead. “Let’s head back. I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

You nodded, standing up and stretching as Suguru helped you off the car hood. “Sounds good. But we definitely need to plan that bowling trip soon.”

Suguru laughed, offering you his hand. “It’s a date.”

As you walked back to the car, hand in hand, the night seemed a little brighter, and the world a little warmer. The small, spontaneous moments were what made your time together truly special, and you both knew that, no matter what, you’d always find a way to cherish them.

[hauntedchoso]

GROUPIE LOVE *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It’s so sweet swingin’ to the beat when I know that you’re doin’ it all for me…

How the JJK men fuck you after a show ft. [gojo], [geto], [toji], [choso], & [nanami] x [fem reader] nsfw warning. mdni. minors and ageless blogs will be blocked for interacting. cw: breeding in gojo’s, daddy kink, semi-exhibitionism, choking, degradation, name calling. established relationships in all despite the title! a/n: this is a repost from my old blog, which used to be a side blog.

Gojo is the singer. His icy white hair and electric blue eyes are quick to capture the hearts of his screaming fans—but those eyes only search for one person in the crowd. Your heart skipped a beat the moment he stepped onto the stage, and when he finally sees you, he flashes you that award-winning smile, bringing the mic up to his perfect lips. “How are we doing tonight, everyone? We’re going to play a song we’ve never performed live before…”

His presence was magnetic, attracting the attention of hundreds of screaming girls as he sang romantic melodies into the mic. You watched his Adam’s apple bob with each word and the way the veins on his hand stuck out as he clutched the mic tightly. Every lyric he sang told a story, and you knew better than all the other girls in the room—he was telling your story. The story of your sweet nights together, the nights you spent gazing into a sea of cerulean blue behind white eyelashes while basking in Gojo’s presence and the beauty of his voice. It was absolutely beautiful, the sweet vibrato’s and clear pitches that escaped his lips as he serenaded his crowd—but it didn’t compare to the beauty of his voice when he was underneath you. 

“Fuck, baby—just like that…haah, god damn. You’re so damn tight,” he moaned, unable to keep up with the way your ass slammed down on his thighs. The harder you rode him, the more undone he became underneath you—such a stark contrast to the confidence he always held when he took the stage. His long, pretty cock stroked against your gummy walls, his mushroom head grazing your g-spot when you raised yourself high enough, driving you crazy. 

“Satoru,” you mewl, absolutely loving the way his hands grip your thighs for dear life. You guys didn’t have much time; it would only be a few minutes before the rest of the guys returned to the tour bus, where you were holding Gojo as your hostage on the bench-couch in the small kitchenette. You ignored the burning in your muscles as you urged yourself to go faster, not giving him a chance to run away as you brought yourself down repeatedly on his warm cock that was throbbing so deliciously inside your clenching cunt. “Cum in me, daddy, I need it—“

“You better fucking watch it,” he moaned through clenched teeth, frustration seeping into his tone, the grip on your left thigh becoming harder. He couldn’t control how his cock throbbed inside you when he heard the word daddy, and it didn’t help that your luscious tits were bouncing so beautifully in his face. If you weren’t moving so fast, he’d have a nipple in his mouth, swirling his warm tongue around it. Quickly becoming overwhelmed by the way your tight cunt clenched around his raw dick, he squeezed his eyes shut, silently willing himself to last longer than he knew he would. He knew you weren’t on birth control, and if you continued to call him daddy in such a slutty tone…well, you’d probably make him a daddy. 

His frustration only egged you on more. “I want your cum in me so bad…haah, please…I’m such a little slut for you, daddy. Don’t you wanna fill me with your seed—“

Before you could process what was happening, Gojo had your back flat against the couch, nudging your thighs back apart as he slid himself inside you again, a hand wrapped tightly around your throat. “You want my cum, you fucking slut? Want me to breed you like a bitch in heat? Fine, you better lay there and take everything I give you.”

Geto is the guitarist. The way his gorgeous black hair falls around his face as he slings his guitar strap over his shoulder is mesmerizing. His gauged ears are sporting their usual shiny black plugs, which catch the stage lights with each turn of his head. You watch from the side of the stage, hidden from the view of his fans, as his fingers pluck his lucky guitar pick out from between his perfect teeth, bringing the pick down to play a warm-up riff. He gives you one last sly smile, and a sweet, sexy wink before he starts the opening riff to their first song. 

He played his guitar like it was an extension of himself. You watched as his palm slid up and down the instrument’s neck as he followed along to the score, making hundreds of screaming girls howl as he paused and swung it harshly to his right side, flipping it over his neck and catching it again. There was something different about hearing him play the same riffs on stage that he would practice with in the comforts of your shared bedroom, lounging lazily in your queen-sized bed as you close your eyes to the quiet strumming. No, hearing it on a stage was way more exhilarating—he might have thousands of fans in front of him, but you know he’s only playing for you. Watching his long, beautiful, skilled fingers tap away at the neck of the guitar, eliciting different melodic tones and notes when he strums gently. It almost reminds you of the noises his fingers elicit out of you. 

“You’re so fucking wet, baby. Is this all for me?” He purrs into your ear. The same hand that was gently choking you was also keeping your back pinned to the wall as his other hand, shoved deep past the waistband of your skinny jeans, toyed with your weeping folds and rubbed gently against your clit.  He smiles down at his lucky guitar pick resting comfortably in your cleavage, loving the way the lacy shirt he bought you accentuates your beautiful body. 

“You looked so fucking hot on stage tonight….” You manage to whine out. Your heart was racing out of your chest, eyes darting all around the room that today’s venue designated as the band’s dressing room. A music tech, security guard, or even one of Geto’s band mates could barge in at any given moment, but his fingers were relentless as they slipped into your core. 

Your eyes rolled back as you felt your pussy welcome in his digits and clench around them. The hand around your neck slid up to your jaw, gripping your face and turning you to face him again. “Yeah? If I’m so hot, why are you looking away from me, pretty girl? My eyes are right here.”

He emphasized his words by curling his fingers against your g-spot, cutting off your mewls of pleasure with his lips and immediately sliding his tongue inside. You were so drunk, so intoxicated by his lips that you felt your eyes rolling back again before shutting and moaning into the kiss; a kiss that was way too short-lived. “Just one, baby. Cum for me just once, and I’ll dick you down the way your little cunt desperately needs it.”

You complied, reverting all your focus to his fingers until you finally came all over them with a loud, slutty moan. 

He whipped you around almost immediately, pressing your chest to the wall, pulling your hips out, yanking your pants down and unzipping his own before slapping his hard cock on your ass. “Say please, baby,” he whispers in your ear, taking note of the way you press your ass eagerly against him. 

“Please, daddy. I want you to fuck me so bad—!”

And before you could even finish your sentence, Geto was pushing into your warm pussy, using small, gentle thrusts to ease himself in until he was bottomed out. You could feel your walls sucking his hard cock in when his thrusts became deeper; sharp, percussive moans leaving your mouth with each slap of his hips against your ass. His pace was fast and mean, and you were completely enamored with the feeling of his balls slapping your clit. 

“Suguru—!” You could feel your orgasm approaching, your walls contracting and clenching around his pulsing cock, but that only made him go faster. 

“Dirty little slut. You love when I use you like this, don’t you, angel? Taking my cock like the sweet little slut you are…haah. Letting me use my pussy the way I want, wherever I want…”

Toji is the bassist. The long-necked guitar always looked so small and draped so beautifully across his large, muscular frame whenever he played—so different than the way it looked against your naked body on those nights he was in the mood to snap some photos of both of his beauties. His eyes met yours under the black fringe of his bangs, the scarred side of his mouth curling up into a smirk as his fingers found each string and plucked. 

You watched as his fingers danced across the four strings, mindlessly plucking at the four strings, amazed at the way the colorful stage lights were gracing his face and muscular arms. His bass lines were so effortless; he didn’t even need to look down at his hands while he played. His eyes would instead scan the crowd, casting uninterested glances at all the fans screaming his name, and occasionally coming back to meet your own, always accompanied by the sweetest, sexiest grin that reminded you that he was yours. The deep notes that harmonized with Geto’s guitar reverberated off the walls of the concert hall; they shook the speakers, the shook the barriers, they shook your core. But his deep bass lines were no match for how deep his cock always reached inside you. 

“Toji! Ah—fuck!” You choked out, tears streaming down your face as the tip of his cock repeatedly mashed against your cervix. “I’m gonna cum! Ah—please! Daddy! I’m really gonna cum!” You warned. 

“Yeah? Fucking cum then, slut. I’m not fucking this cunt for nothing.”

When Toji invited you to shower with him after the show, you weren’t expecting him to shove you against the shower wall and fuck you like a wild animal from behind as soon as the water hit your hair. While your showers together always ended in you two fucking, you never thought he’d choose a place so public, a place that puts you both at risk of being heard by your closest friends. This seemed to be the last thing on Toji’s mind as he continues to bully his mean cock into your aching pussy. His eyes remained on your ass, watching his cock pistoning in and out of you while your plump cheeks jiggled with each mean thrust. He knew you got loud when you came, and while it was something you were trying to suppress in order to save face from any of his band mates or techs that might be lingering around outside the bathrooms, it was his one and only goal. 

And you did. As soon as he reached his hand down to rub your sensitive clit, you clenched hard on his throbbing cock. Your back arched deeply against him as you squirted hard against the shower wall, a loud squeal leaving your lips. 

He grabs your wet hair, turning your head to the side so he can silence you with a bruising kiss. “Gonna do it again, mama? Gonna cum all over my cock again?” He whispers evilly against your ear once he pulls away, quickening his pace. His hips slap hard against the globes of your ass, the loud clap clap clap echoing off of the insulated shower walls. 

“Y-yes, daddy, I wanna cum again—“ your words were cut off when he slid two fingers into your mouth, groaning when you bite down on them. 

His thrusts were unforgiving, pulling out far enough so that his fat mushroom head pressed harshly against your g-spot when he thrusted forward and hit your cervix. You were so cockdrunk, Toji could sense your oncoming second orgasm before you could by the way your walls were clenching down so hard on him. Before you knew it, you were squirting again, this time pulling a louder, sluttier squeal from your lungs. 

“Good girl,” he praises, a wide smile spread across his face as he continued to pound you into overstimulation. “Music to my fucking ears.”

Choso is the drummer. You loved the way those spiked pigtails bounced in the wind as he head banged along to the loud thumping of his drums. His chocolate brown eyes would occasionally meet yours through the band’s set, peaking brightly above the black stripe across his nose, the purple stage lights reflecting across his irises. During the bridge of a particularly romantic song, he cast his gaze towards where you stood side-stage. With a drumstick tipped in your direction, he made sure your eyes were on him as he shot you a wink before his drum solo, as if to say, “this one’s for you.”

Choso pounded on his drums as if he hated them, shaking the stage and speakers so intensely with his mean percussion that you could feel your throat vibrate. You didn’t care what anyone said, Choso controls the show; he counts everyone in, he sets the tempo, he decides how hard his band plays by how he wants to play—and boy, does he play hard. He was often breaking his sticks and putting dents in his drumheads, going through countless numbers of each with every tour he went on. Everything about Choso was hard—the way he plays, his toned muscles, his thick cock, the way he fucks you. 

“Ch-Choso! Haah…h-oh my god, you’re so-!” Your hands clutched at everything they could grab so that you could hold on for dear life—the cymbals, the casings on the side of the drums, the drum stands themselves—but to no avail. “Fuck, you’re so deep!”

Choso snickered at your pathetic attempts to stabilize yourself, the sight only driving his hips against your ass even harder. He had you bent over his drum set, the harsh slaps of your skin-on-skin contact echoing throughout the empty concert hall. He purposely made sure to leave his drums on stage as he helped tear down the rest of the set, waited until his band mates disappeared, and ushered every tech, security guard, and janitor out before he stalked and captured his prey, dragging you back to his den. “Don’t run from my cock now, princess. Isn’t this what you wanted? You were giving me slutty bedroom eyes throughout the whole show.”

He paused his violent thrusts for a moment, driving his hips backward to slowly brush the tip of his cock against your g-spot. He marveled at the way your pussy fluttered and clenched around him as he teased your sopping wet core. 

“Yes, baby…” you mewl, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the delicious stimulation. 

His hips jerked forward, meeting your ass with a singular mean thrust. “I’m sorry?”

You yelp at the sudden jolt of pain and pleasure, eyes snapping wide open as his fingers dig deeper into your hips. “Daddy! Yes, daddy! I want you! Please!” you babble desperately. 

Choso gave your ass one harsh smack before pounding into you again, settling on an unforgiving pace. He loved fucking you hard. Your walls always clenched him so tight, and he loved your cute little squeals you’d let out whenever his cock kissed your cervix. He loved how hard you always came from it, too—it only made him want to fuck you impossibly harder and deeper. His balls slapped against your clit with each thrust, and he admired the way your ass jiggled each time he slammed against it. The sound of him fucking you created its own erotic percussion that you both somehow loved more than the actual sound of his drums. 

“I’ma cum, ohmygod! Ch-Choso…daddy, fuck! I’m cumming!” You whine, unable to focus your gaze as fat tears blur your vision and spill down your face. 

“Good girl. Cum for me, pretty baby,” he moans, rubbing your clit in gentle praise as you spasm all over his throbbing length. “You’re so fucking pretty when you’re all fucked out and dumb on my cock.”

Nanami is the manager. His blond hair was always combed into a perfect style, and his soft, brown eyes focused on his surroundings as he effortlessly orchestrated the commotion around him. There was a certain calmness that surrounded him as he guided the band through every moment of post-concert teardown. Every once in a while, his eyes would land on you, where you sat quietly on one of the speaker cases backstage, ignoring his gaze with a small pout across your lips. 

The guys in the band would sometimes get a little too crazy after shows or on days off, and they have proved time and time again that they needed someone to keep them in check. Whether it’s passing out drunk outside of local bars, damaging and losing their gear, showing up late to sound checks, or simply being divas with attitude, Nanami swore that he was in charge of a bunch of children, and that you—his perfect girl—were the only one who could do no wrong. Even on nights like tonight, when you were upset with him for reasons that were beyond him, he was happy to pull you aside and get you in check as well.

His lips were on yours, tongue swirling around your mouth as he drank in your moans with fervor. His fingers laced through your hair, resting against the back of your head and using that placement to press your lips more firmly against his as his other hand pressed you against his body. He breaks the kiss for a moment to suck small hickies into your neck. 

“What’s got you so worked up tonight, my angel?” He murmurs against your neck, his hot breath sending goosebumps down the length of your spine. “I let you ignore me all evening, but you can’t hide from me now.”

“Kento…what-what about the guys?” You ask innocently, a small gasp leaving your lips as his teeth nip the skin over your pulse point rather hard. 

“Let’s see; Suguru’s in the dressing room, Toji and his woman are putting on a second concert in the shower, pretty sure I saw Satoru sneak onto the bus…” Nanami uses a finger to tilt your chin up, your eyes meeting his, “and Choso’s slutting himself out on stage. Where does that leave me to take my girl, hmm?”

Before you could even answer, he’s kissing you again, whisking you through a side door that exits outside behind the concert venue. Your eyes snap open as you feel a sudden breeze hit your skin, causing you to break the kiss. 

“Out here? But-“

He silences you with a hand to your throat. “Yes, pretty girl. Out here. Now tell me what you need, okay?”

Your eyebrows pinched in frustration. His strong hand choking you only aroused your needy cunt. You were supposed to be upset with him for being too busy for you that day, but the sultry tone in his voice was making you horny. 

“I need you…please, daddy. I missed you so much today. I need you to fuck me so bad.”

And before you know it, he has your feet off the ground, legs wrapped around his hips and your back against the hard brick wall as he bullies his cock into your cunt relentlessly. Your moans echo into the night sky, surely being heard by anyone lingering outside the nearby bars and restaurants as Nanami’s balls make harsh contact with your ass with each unforgiving thrust. “You like being a brat? Hm? Knowing daddy will fuck you nice and hard? I didn’t know my perfect girl was such a needy little slut.”

“Yes—yes! Right there, daddy!” You cry, pure ecstasy making your legs shake as his fat, veiny cock brushes the inside of your walls. “Haah—nnggh fuck, I’ma cum…” you slur, drool escaping from the corner of your lips as your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

“That’s right, princess—give it to me. Give me everything. You like when I fuck you dumb, don’t you, baby? You’re so cute when you’re being a brat. Next time, though, I won’t be as gentle.”

BONUS FOR MY METALCORE GIRLIES

gojo's vocals / geto's riffs / toji's basslines / choso's drumming

please keep in mind that I block minors and ageless blogs. mdni.

please do not steal my work.

[fangirl-writes]

Smosh, Thongs, and Perfect Snogging

Shayne Topp x Fem!Reader

Warning(s): swearing, thongs, gets kinda spicy towards the end but nothing too smutty (making out, hickeys, butt-grabbing lmao)

Notes: This was a rabbit hole I didn’t expect to go down, but here we are.

Summary: you and Shayne have been keeping your relationship on the down low for a while, but as much as you keep sharing clothes, you're just begging to be caught.

“Sooooo," Courtney said, leaning up against your desk. "Who’s shirt are you wearing?”

You choked on your coffee, quickly turning away from your laptop so you could cough it out. “What?”

She grinned. “The shirt. It’s definitely not yours, so who’s is it?”

You wiped your mouth, blushing furiously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. The shirt’s mine.”

“Oh yeah?” She said, a challenging look in her eyes that made you want to run to the nearest exit. “Why’d you buy a men’s shirt that’s too big in the shoulders and too long in the arms?”

“Uh…style?”

“Bullshit!” She exclaimed, laughing. “Come on, just tell me! Do I know him?”

“What’s going on over here?” Tommy asked, walking over to your desk with Amanda and Angela not far behind.

“Y/N’s wearing a guy’s shirt and she won’t tell me who’s it is,” Courtney explained.

You put your face in your hands. “Tell the whole team why don’t you…”

“Ooh, Y/N’s got a boyfriend,” Amanda teased with a waggle of her eyebrows.

You didn’t deny the accusation (which was true), so they egged on further.

“Where’d you guys meet?”

“When did you start having sex?”

“Do you borrow his clothes often?”

“Is he big?”

“Oh my god, you guys!” You shouted, burying your burning face into your knees. “Can we drop it?”

“Only because we have a shoot to do,” Courtney said. “When we get back I expect all the details.”

You frowned at her as the three of them retreated from your desk.

“They bothering you?”

You looked over and felt yourself relax. Shayne was standing there with a grin, hands tucked awkwardly into the front pockets of his jeans.

“Well, they seem to think I’m wearing a guy’s shirt,” you said with a small smile. “Can’t possibly know what they’re talking about.”

Shane chuckled, glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention, and kissed you on the forehead.

It had been a bit of a running joke between you for a while, but you usually managed to sneakily wear something of the other’s around the office without anyone noticing.

While Shayne’s generally had to be smaller (he’d look pretty obvious wearing one of your shirts), you had more of a selection.

You wore his denim jacket, he wore your fuzzy socks. You wore one of his snapbacks, he wore one of your bracelets. You wore his crewneck, he wore one of your necklaces. You wore his beanie, he wore your belt. You wore his flannel, he wore your sweatpants.

It had been going on for a while, but Shayne’s button-up was the one getting the attention.

“Wait ‘til they find out I’m wearing your underwear,” Shayne whispered.

You blushed. “You are not.”

Shayne grinned, walking away from you towards set.

“Shayne, you are not!” You called after him.

He just laughed.

You dropped yourself back into your chair with a huff.

You and Shayne had been seeing each other on the down low for a while, not feeling comfortable to come forward about it just yet.

It was one thing if the relationship was going strong for a while and it was someone who didn’t work on the crew, but this was still new territory and keeping it to yourselves would make it less awkward if things happened to not work out.

Plus you were pretty sure Shayne liked the rush of sneaking around; stealing kisses when a space was empty (rare), going with you to pick up coffee or props (occasionally), staggering the way you entered the building when you rode to work together (nearly always).

And you could admit that it was pretty fun sharing secret glances or dirty looks that read “I’ll get you back for that later.” But trying to lie to your friends about stuff when they asked was hard.

Still, you could deal with it for now if it meant you could keep your little secret for a bit longer.

“No way!”

You snapped out of your daze, turning from the script you’d been editing as the shouts from set grew louder.

It was a TNTL shoot so nothing unusual about the loudness but something this time drew you towards it.

Saving what you were working on, you got up and went to see what the fuss was about.

You nearly died on the spot when you recognized the hot pink thong that you usually kept tucked safely away in your drawer at your apartment sticking to Shayne’s ass.

Granted, it was mostly covered by his pants but there was still plenty showing, as it was pulled up by the sides probably as far as he could get it.

Keith was in the hot seat but everyone had come out from behind the divider to see this.

“Oh my god,” was thrown around a lot.

Shayne looked pretty proud of himself for this one, a smug look on his face.

“Where did you even get these,” Courtney asked, incredulous.

“Bought them just for this.”

Lie.

He made quick eye contact with you, and you could tell he was trying not to burst into laughter again and give you away.

They fell into the usual outro spiel so you walked back to your desk to start working again before the girls could come finish interrogating you.

Suddenly, however, you found it hard to focus on editing.

It was a Beopardy video so it should be easy for you (you’d edited a hundred of them) but you couldn’t help but notice Shayne’s outfit.

It was a normal one: white shirt, khakis, jacket. But what caught your eye was your necklace that was dangling around his neck.

It was a (first initial) necklace that you’d had for years and, as far as you knew, no one had commented on it the day he wore it.

You felt an odd mix of emotions about this subtle “claim” of him, an obvious but quiet declaration of your relationship that nobody had questioned.

At least, not yet. The video wasn’t posted yet and fans had a way of deducing things about the Smosh team’s private life that they weren’t super comfortable with (whether true or not).

“Y/N!”

You screeched as Damien slammed his hand down on your desk.

“Don’t do that!” You chided, taking off your headphones.

He and Shayne had both gathered at your desk and were smiling, which was suspicious enough.

“What’s this I hear about you wearing a guy’s shirt?” Damien asked.

Damn it, Courtney.

“It’s my shirt,” you defended, going with your original excuse.

Shayne’s grin widened slightly over Damien’s shoulder.

“Well, let’s just see then,” he said, walking over and grabbing the collar of the shirt. “Calvin Klein, nice. Your guy’s got good taste in shirts.”

You frowned and pushed him away.

“Shayne, don’t you have a shirt exactly like that?” Damien asked.

You sucked in a breath.

“Yeah, I do,” Shayne replied. “We must shop at the same stores, Y/N. Maybe I’ll run into him. Maybe I know him.”

You rolled your eyes. “Do you guys have nothing better to do than bug me?”

“As a matter of fact, we don’t.”

You groaned. “Go bug someone else, please. I’m trying to get this video done.”

“You sure?” Damien asked. “Because when I came over here it sure looked like you were enthralled with Shayne’s muscles.”

“Oh, grow up,” you said, watching as Damien scurried away before you could swat at him.

Shayne, on the other hand, not afraid of a swatting, shoved something into your palm below the desk before following Damien.

Confused, you looked down at your hand to find your pink thong in all its glory and a note from Shayne that said, ‘sorry for stealing them. Maybe you can punish me later ;)’

You blushed again and shoved them into your bag before trying to get back to work, which had become nearly impossible now.

You finally got the video done by the time everyone was wrapping up for the day, and good thing, too, because you were ready to get the hell out of there.

“Hey, you need a ride home?” Shayne asked, casually.

You usually “ubered” to work, so it wasn’t unusual for someone to offer you a ride.

It also wasn’t unusual that it was mostly Shayne.

“That’d be great,” you replied brightly.

“Ooh! See if you can pull any more information about this guy out of her,” Courtney said, hanging over Shayne’s shoulder. “We’ve already got that he’s blond, works out, and is a white man.”

“Well, damn, Courtney, that could be half the guys in California,” Shayne joked.

“I know, that’s why your mission” -she poked him in the cheek- “is to get something else out of her.”

“I’ll do my best,” Shayne said, waving Courtney off before turning back to you. “Ready?”

If anyone was paying attention, they just might’ve seen the way you looked at each other and figured you out.

But since no one was, you walked out of Smosh Headquarters after another day of fooling your friends.

“Who do you think will find out first?” You asked when Shayne started driving towards your apartment (which was a little closer than his).

He hummed thoughtfully. “Probably Courtney. She’s got this whole sleuthing thing going on about your guy.”

You hummed. “Damian’s like your best friend, though, surely he’s noticed something different.”

“He hasn’t asked but he does think I’ve been seeing somebody and I’m not ready to introduce her to my friends yet,” Shayne replied.

You nodded. “We’ll have to come clean soon, you know.”

He reached over and grabbed your hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing the back of it.

It was a simple gesture that he did often but it made your stomach flutter each time.

“I know.”

You rode in silence for a while, Shayne holding your hand. You guys hadn’t really discussed how you would tell everyone about your relationship but you knew the conversation was looming now that questions had been raised by your friends/coworkers.

Neither of you were ready for it just yet.

Shayne pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex and found a spot easily, which seemed to be a superpower of his.

“Shay,” you said hesitantly, squeezing his hand and stopping him before he could leave the driver’s seat. “How are we going to tell them?”

Shayne bit his lip before speaking. “How about we just… let them find out? Stop all the sneaking around and see who sees first? Then we can explain.”

“Okay,” you replied. “I think that’s a good idea.”

He smiled and pressed a kiss to your temple before you both got out of the car.

A memory surfaced and you brightened as you guys got into the elevator.

“You know,” you said. “There’s still a punishment in order for what you did to my poor pink thong.”

Shayne blushed but you also saw the way his eyes darkened in anticipation. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you reached over and grabbed his ass before whispering in his ear. “You’ve been a naughty boy.”

Shayne suppressed a moan and watched anxiously for the elevator to hit your floor.

You sneakily leaned over and began kissing his neck, sucking small marks into his skin. An obvious claim this time.

One of his hands landed on your waist and a sound bubbled from his throat that spurred you on.

Sure, this was an elevator with a camera, but people had done much worse things in it.

Still, you weren’t keen on punishing your boyfriend in the elevator and eagerly pulled him along when the doors opened on your floor.

Shayne’s hands wandered as you fumbled with the keys to get your apartment door open.

You would hope nobody walked by, but that was a concern far from your mind at that moment as you pushed open the door and pulled Shayne inside, only to press him up against it as it closed.

Shayne relished in your control as you held his hands above his head and slid your tongue in his mouth.

He hummed into your kiss and chased your lips when you pulled away.

"Ah, ah, ah," you said with a silly waggle of your finger. "This is a punishment, remember?"

He groaned. "I'm gonna hate this, aren't I?"

You chuckled, pulling him towards your bedroom. "Next time, ask to wear my thong, and you might get a reward."

"How soon can I take you up on that offer?"

***

“Holy shit, dude!” Damien said. “How many hickeys did this girl give you?”

Shayne was cursing under his breath.

You knew this was going to happen, and he’d fallen for it like an idiot. A horned-up, desperate-for-his-girlfriend idiot.

You knew he was supposed to shoot today, but now they were going to push those videos back because it wasn’t going to work when his neck and collarbone were covered in bruises.

“Long story,” Shayne said.

Not a lie; it definitely would be.

“Oh, come on, you can’t say this is yours!”

The boys looked over to where Courtney was hovering around your desk again this morning.

You were wearing Shayne’s shirt from yesterday, and he nearly made you both late for work when he saw you in it.

You shrugged.

“Oh, come on!” Courtney almost whined. “It doesn’t even fit you! If you didn’t want me asking about it, then why’d you wear it!”

You shrugged again.

It was driving Courtney insane.

"Hey, Y/N, did you get that footage I sent over?" Anthony asked, appearing seemingly out of nowhere at your desk.

You nodded. "Yeah, I saw it in my email this morning. I can probably get that cranked out and sent back to you by the end of the day if you need it."

"That'd be great, but no rush. Just do your thing."

He paused, face contorting as he looked you up and down.

Courtney noticed that he noticed and hurried to get Anthony in on the gossip: “I know! She’s-“

“Why are you wearing Shayne’s shirt?”

Her sentence died on her tongue and Damien’s mouth dropped open.

“Shayne’s shirt?” she squeaked.

“Yeah, he wore it in the sketch yesterday. Ian sent me a picture of the thong thing- Y/N, why are you wearing his shirt?”

Your face was on fire, and Shayne, it seemed, had stopped functioning.

You could see the pieces clicking together in Damien’s mind as he connected the hickeys to the shirt.

“No,” he said, mouth still wide open. “You guys are-“

“Shayne’s shirt??” Courtney repeated, flabbergasted.

“Um…surprise?” You said, grinning sheepishly.

“How could I have missed that?!” Courtney shouted. “It’s so obvious now! You two are always staring at each other and shit! Gah!”

You laughed awkwardly, avoiding everyone's gaze.

"And you!" Courtney said, pointing a finger at Shayne. "How could you not tell me about this! I need details right now!"

"Courtney, quiet down, you're going to let the whole office know-"

"Oh, I'm gonna tell the whole office! She's been parading around in your shirts for everyone to see!"

You put your head in your hands, regretting every decision that's brought you to now.

Well, except for dating Shayne. Because while Courtney was raving and Damien was laughing, he was looking at you to see if you were okay.

You smiled softly, giving him a small nod.

He smiled back before jumping into normal Shayne mode and ripping right back on Courtney. "You had me try and find out, too! You asked her boyfriend to find out who her boyfriend was!"

You watched them amusedly as the commotion began bringing others around to see what was unfolding.

It wasn't until he cleared his throat that you remembered Anthony was still standing there.

“So,” he said. “Was the thong yours?”

[n6ptunova]

can u do chris bf headcanons

boyfriend headcanons • chris sturniolo

a/n: ofc pookie!! thank you for the request🫶

warnings: none

- chris would try to act a bit more “chill” and “nonchalant” before you guys date, but once it’s official he turns into the sweetest boy ever. he becomes almost soft spoken when it comes to you and you only.

- he goes to you for fashion advice since he can’t really match clothes. you take him shopping and dress him up in a way that he’s comfortable with but also looks so fine. he might even make one of those tiktoks “my style before and after my gf.” he also loves matching with you for sure.

- speaking of clothes, he LOVESSS when you wear his shirts and hoodies. it doesn’t matter if they’re baggy, tight, or well-fitted on you, he just thinks you look so beautiful in his clothes and he thinks it’s cute how giggly you get and how you burry your face in them admiring his lingering scent. he’ll let you keep your fav hoodie of his too.

- he cannot go to sleep without you. we all know how he’s always sleeping in nick and matt’s rooms, but ever since you got together, he only sleeps in his bed, yours, or the couch but you HAVE to be there or else what else is he gonna cuddle??

- his favourite is when he’s the small spoon laying on top of you and resting his head on your chest (not for that reason but it’s def a bonus) and you playing with his hair till he falls asleep. if he wakes up and you’re separated he’ll whine and cuddle closer to you.

- i think it’s a given that he likes when you play with his hair, it’s his weakness fr. but sometimes when you’re bored you start braiding his hair or trying different hairstyles on him like man bun, piggy tails, space buns or your personal favourite half up half down with some strands falling out. he acts like he’s annoyed when you do this but he melts at the feeling of your fingers in his hair.

- he’ll just be looking up with heart eyes at you focusing so hard to perfect the hair style for him and secretly smiling every time you get excited at how cute he looks and the little kisses you cover his face with. he’s so whipped it’s crazy.

- he’s a part of the sassy men apocalypse idc. being in a relationship with chris is mostly joking around and poking fun at each other. so when he’s in a goofy mood and you shrug him off bc you’re busy or not focused he’ll go “oh so you don’t love me anymore?? i see.”

- “babe literally what’s more important than me rn this is insanity.” you always call each other bro but when hes feeling sassy and you call him bro he’ll say, “are you bro/friend zoning me rn. what the fuck.” and sometimes he doesn’t even respond and just crosses his arms dramatically looking away until you say his name or “babe/baby”

- he takes pictures of things he noted you like before eg. the sky, sunsets, flowers, cats, etc. and sends them to you bc it reminds him of you and he knows how excited you get over them.

- he’s a mama’s boy i stand by that, so it’s important for him that you get along with mary lou, which you do! mary lou loves you so much he starts to get jealous of both of you because you’re “stealing” his mom and you’re spending more time with her that chris starts to miss you.

- i feel like in general chris is a bit touch deprived, like in vids he’s always reaching for his brothers’ hands or resting on them, hugging them, leaning on them when laughing etc. now that he has you, you get all these little touches, playing with your fingers subconsciously, tracing circles on your thighs occasionally squeezing it, rests his arms on your shoulder when you’re standing somewhere, always hugging and kissing you on the cheek, forhead, corner of your lips, and even boops your nose sometimes 😭.

- he definitely is always looking at you with loving heart eyes all the time that fans start to make edits of “the way he looks at you” and you both eat them up.

- when he’s sick he turns into a literal child, you have to baby him or else you’ll never hear the end of his whining and complaining. but it’s okay bc when you’re sick he does the same.

- overall that man is just whipped for you fr and his brothers tease him for it sometimes but he doesn’t care (he literally punches their arm almost every time and tells them to shut up but we move!)

[sluttysnowangel666]

What are Cregan’s favorite positions? Everyone says doggy style because wolves and all that.

But I think since Cregan is so traditional and he likes tough and unconventional woman (he married Black Aly) I think he loves missionary, cowgirl and lotus, which is sitting cowgirl.

I think Cregan would find doggy animalistic and unromantic and he wouldn’t treat his lady like that

Plus you said he loves eye contact and looking at each other’s faces

I think he loves spooning sex though. Cregan is the ultimate big spoon

why did i totally forget spooning sex was a position omg. cregan is def the type to hold you against him, reaching one hand over to rub your cunt while the other hand grasps your face. when yall go to bed tho you best believe he turns tf around and waits for you to spoon him and warm yourself up against him.

at the end of the day tho that man wants to see your face. he wants to see how you shut your eyes tight and how your cheeks get all flushed and rosy. depending on his mood, he might say “please look at me, i wanna see those eyes” or he might say “open your fucking eyes” even commanding you with your name. whoo that man can get fiesty sometimes. we know how my canon version of cregan is about eye contact.

i can just see him LOVINGGG the lotus position tho. like you riding tf out of him and him sitting up, wrapping his arm around your lower back and then just matching your pace. you grip his face, pressing your forehead to his as you look in each others eyes. he might even be mumbling lusty little comments under his breath, just egging you on saying things like “yes, you keep riding me. just like that. you’re such a good girl, fucking me like that.”

[psychelis-new]

pick a pile: "You are..." - Loving and encouraging words for you

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to read some loving warm words about you. it's always nice to hear about our positive traits, right? here you can find yours and some encouraging words about your next steps/healing. keep going and take care of you! and also, be ready to let love in, you deserve it :)

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

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1 2 3

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pile 1

You are sunny, cheerful, bright and warm. You're also pretty welcoming and you like to hug people or generally enjoy physical displays of affection. I think people like to be around you, you basically cheer up everyone and "set the mood for the evening" (I just heard that, IDK). You have a lovely smile, everyone is in awe with it and you in general; maybe you also have a particular way to laugh? Like you maybe make a strange sound, and everyone is fond of it. They love to make you laugh honestly just to hear it. I feel like you take emotional care of others and you may feel like a sip of fresh water to many. You're extrovert (or at least seem so in specific context), confident and you know exactly what to do or say to make the day of the people you are in contact with. I think you may share smiles with people on the street and even help them if they need (eg. like if they drop something you may pick it up for them, especially for older people or you may leave your seat to them). I think you are very funny and smart, and like to joke a lot. Okay for some of you you may have changed after something happened and keep this sunny side of you a bit hidden (or maybe you occasionally fear being judged about it, or you have been), but honestly I think you only need to reconnect with it and let it flow from you. It's hurtful when some things happen but it's also something that... just happens in life, sadly (I'm not trying to invalidate your experience/pain, at all). We don't have to let those negative things change us so much, especially if we still feel that flame/desire inside. I mean... don't feel guilty for being happy, if that's what you feel. You can be happy no matter what happened. You have to be happy. Find new ways for that happiness to flow within but reach it "and let it rain" out of you. Enjoy it, let it be there and help you heal what hurt as well, if you need. You can find new happiness anytime. New reasons to be happy, too. This is also true for the few of you who tend to hide pain behind a smile, pretending it's all good. Toxic positivity won't solve it, as avoiding problems. Be more balanced (maybe you were called by pile 2 as well) and accepting of what is wrong: it doesn't mean you let it take over you (ask for help if it's too scary), it means you're not being blind to it but you're listening to it and trying to make it better (ofc you can wear a smile while you do that, you totally have to! Healing happens also with taking breaks to enjoy life and hobbies/passions...). You are such a beam of light for everyone, confront your problems (if there's any) and then keep on shining!

song: chicken noodle soup | j-hope; wake me up before you go go | wham! (I channeled the first song while doing your reading, anyway the mood for you is: jitterbug!)

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pile 2

You are strong, pure and very special. You stand out, and honestly you don't even have to do much to stand out. I think it's your energy: it also has something healing for those that comes near you, something comforting. You should be more confident in yourself: maybe you also doubt about your looks or how you may be seen/perceived by others but honestly you have/are nothing less than anyone else. You are caring and have a good heart; maybe you have buildt some walls around yourself out of past traumas, and this is blocking you a little when it comes to sharing with others or creating deeper relationships. It's okay take your time to work through those walls. You have beautiful eyes, and maybe you like to look at others in the eyes too? I think you are also sincere, honest and humble, at times also to a fault: please do stand up for yourself when you need, and set your boundaries. You may also be a bit too strict on you, especially when you make some type of mistakes or something? Maybe it's the fear I mentioned in the beginning of being perceived as you're not or in a bad way, or maybe... at times you may be scared of your thoughts somehow. It's not just the anxiety you may get from them and how they may make you spiral so you tend to stop them (it's okay to do this and distract your mind when you start feeling overwhelmed, but please come back to those thoughts when you feel calmer: to avoid thinking about a problem won't help you solve it at all, it will come back stronger. And please ask for help if you need), but there's also something else. Remind yourself usually the first thought is what we learned, our instinctive first reaction to a situation (usually comes up to "protect us") while the second thought we have is the one that comes from the heart, it really expresses what we think with a calmer and more balanced mind. I mean, eg. let's say someone says they got something you always wanted and this triggers you: your first reaction could also be being envious of them and feel not enough compared to them and potentially say or think something negative/feel resentful or angry, but if you stopped and thought about it again, you may just be really happy for this person and see yourself as on a different path: your time will come too. Be more kind with yourself, more patient: you're unlearning a negative mental pattern and that's not easy, it will take time and practice and lot of patience. You are so lovely you have no idea, please try to see and show that yourself too.

song: a little bit yours | jp saxe (indeed come back to your core self and show yourself love, and accept it too; closing chapters, changing and unlearning stuff is hard, but you can make it)

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pile 3

You are multilayered. You have lovely rosey cheeks, people may want to squeeze them lol. You are sweet and cute, you probably are also a little shy or maybe you feel anxious in social settings and you may end up blushing a lot. You may also be stubborn occasionally (not too bad tbh) and can be determined or at least you reach good results in job/school. I think you tend to hide a part of yourself though or find it hard to deal with it/not like it. There's something you fear showing or that you don't want others to see about you, probably your pain, probably something from your past that you keep inside (also cause you can't accept/understand it -it could be abuse for someone, I hope you are safe now). Maybe you're also "scared"... of being loved/seen for real (having your "mask removed"?) or feeling vulnerable... Your energy feels younger or maybe just unexperienced in some fields or situations (maybe you also feel uncomfortable in some situations or you felt so in the past and you avoided joining them so now you feel a little behind maybe: honestly, there's nothing bad in this. You're not behind, you just did what was better for you and you still have time to make more experiences. You have all the time you need and want). I think there's indeed something about time here, it could be you are nostalgic about something that now you are missing/lacking, maybe feelings you could experience in your childhood, or you want to delete something from your past, or it could be that you fear running out of time, as mentioned, as you want to experience many things still but maybe you are scared you won't make it or you don't know where to start from. Just take a break: the moment you'll feel more grounded, it will come to you. Focus on taking care of you and also do take naps if you need and can. If it's about your childhood, eg. if people taught you have to "grow up" or have dimmed you in any way (or you had to, in order to gain their approval), remember you don't really have to forget about your inner child nor to be someone you're not. You can be an adult and still be in touch with your inner child. It's not that one thing excludes the other. And you can be yourself without any fear (it's hard to believe it but you won't be pushed away by everyone if you aren't as they wish). Maybe your inner child now really needs you to be closer to them, they need your appreciation and support, probably also after something you had to go through in your past: your inner child totally did great back then with all they had. Hug them and show them love. I think some of you may also love to work or be around children or pets as they may help you feel more in touch with your own inner child and more grounded. Again, be attentive to your needs, and meet them: maybe you were *unwillingly* taught you don't deserve that much (you had to accept crumbles in relationships) but it's not so, you deserve the moon: remember this. You're already perfect, there's nothing about you in your past or present that you need to fix, my love. Heal your fears about being yourself, receiving (love in particular) and don't run away from it, don't run away from yourself: you'll get all you wish for. Give it and yourself time. And, if you need this: it wasn't your fault, you were not responsible for that event/decision for which you feel like you were (and maybe you didn't even had to take). Whatever it was. You were trying to win the approval of someone who couldn't love you as you wished. Build boundaries around people (adults) and remember you are not responsible for them and what they do/their mistakes: you're not here to save them from anything. You have your own self and life to care about now.

song: heart attack | demi lovato

[cera-writes]

HII so I found your page the other day and I loveee your work😁😁. Anyhow I wanted to request if it was okay for me to ask for a story about gambit x reader angst/smut/fluff (it’s a lot I know😭🙏). And let’s say reader gets really drunk at a party and they’re making a fool out of themselves and gambit tries to help you out of the situation and the reader is being bratty in their drunken state refusing any help and it causes gambit to snap at them a bit but ends with some smut and fluff, BUT if that’s Okayy ofc🙏😁. Keep up the great work😁🤍

A/N: I love this idea! And thank you so much! I try! <3 pairing: Remy LeBeau "Gambit" x gn!Reader Tags: Swearing, intoxication, partying, fluff, angst, smut, spanking, reader has a bratty side, Remy punishes reader in all the good ways Summary: Reader is having the time of their life at a party thrown at the X-Mansion while Charles is off taking care of business. Reader gets carried away and has a little too much to drink and well, let's just say Remy is there to deal with the aftermath which eventually leads to smut~

Drunk in Love

The music pulsed through the mansion like a relentless heartbeat, the bass vibrating through your bones. Laughter, shouts, and the clinking of glasses filled the air. You were supposed to be having fun, but the world was spinning, and your vision was blurring at the edges. Each sip of alcohol seemed to send you deeper into a hazy oblivion.

It all started when you made a bet that you could outdrink Logan. You knew damn well you couldn't hold your liquor. But that didn't stop you. Morph was egging you on and hyping you up the entire time. Then, before you knew it, you were shotgunning a can of beer, which, in turn, led to the oncoming of disastrous events afterwards.

Logan, still somewhat sober after his sixth drink, smirked at you as you swayed back and forth after your third shot of whiskey. He knew he had won, but you weren't gonna take that loss by any means.

You found Charles' wine cabinet and poured a glass of Cabernet. You weren't completely drunk but damn were you feeling very tipsy.

A hand landed on your shoulder, steady and grounding. You swatted it away, giggling inanely. “Go awaaay, Remy,” you slurred, your voice a childish whine.

Remy LeBeau, your ever patient best friend, sighed. He’d been watching you for the past hour, his brow furrowed in concern. You were usually the life of the party, but now you were just a stumbling mess. “Mon cher, maybe it’s time to call it a night,” he suggested gently.

You scoffed, your laughter sounding more like a hiccup. “No, I’m fine!” you protested, your voice rising in pitch. “Best. Party. Ever!”

Remy exchanged a look with Scott, who was hovering nearby, a mixture of amusement and worry in his eyes. “Maybe we should get her home,” Scott suggested.

You turned on him, your face flushing an angry red. “I don’t need a goddamn babysitter!” you shouted, your voice echoing through the room. A few heads turned, and you felt a surge of embarrassment.

Remy’s patience was wearing thin. “Enough, mon cher,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re embarrassin' yourself.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Y-you’re e-embarrassing me,” you retorted, your voice slurring pretty badly.

A wave of anger washed over Remy. He hated seeing you like this. He hated the way the alcohol was taking control of you. He hated the way you were pushing him away. He'd always liked you of course, and just because the two of you hadn't made things official didn't mean he still didn't treat you like you were his, especially at times like this.

But seeing you dance on all the strangers at the party, giving them the attention he craved from you, struck a match in him. He wanted to be protective of you, but you were also pissing him off to no end.

"Jus' the alcohol talkin' cher. C'mon, I'll take ya home."

When he tried to reach for your arm, you snapped on instinct. You reared back and slapped him hard across the face.

The sharp crack of your hand against Remy's cheek echoed through the room, cutting through the din of the party like a knife. His eyes widened for a moment in surprise before narrowing, a flicker of something dark and dangerous passing over his features. He rubbed at his cheek, not in pain, but as if to confirm the reality of the slap. Then, he smirked, a wicked glint in his eye that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Don't touch me!" you spat, your voice thick with anger and defiance. But even as the words left your lips, a wave of regret washed over you. You hadn't meant to hit him, not really. It was the alcohol talking, fueling your actions with a boldness you didn't possess otherwise.

Remy stepped closer, his body pressing against yours, backing you up against the wall. The heat from his chest seared through your clothes, mingling with the warmth of the alcohol in your veins. Amidst the music still pulsating loudly through the room, he leaned in close to your ear. "Is dat how it's gon' be, cher?" he murmured, his voice low and husky, a challenge in every syllable.

You could practically smell the scent of whiskey and cigarette smoke lingering his lips. He'd never been quite this close to you before and it made your heart race.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing. The room spun around you, the lights blurring into a kaleidoscope of color. "I-I...," you stammered, your resolve wavering under his intense gaze.

His hand slid up your arm, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your skin. "Y'think ya can jus' hit me and walk away, cher?" he asked, his tone teasing yet threatening.

You shivered, a mix of fear and excitement coursing through you. "I... I didn't really mean it," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Remy leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Maybe Remy liked it," he confessed, his breath hot against your skin. "Maybe he want more."

Before you could respond, his hand moved to your waist, pulling you flush against him. You could feel every inch of him, hard and demanding. "What're you doing?" you breathed, your mind racing as your body betrayed you, responding to his touch with a surge of desire.

"Showin' you what happens when you mess with me," he whispered, his lips trailing kisses down your neck. Each touch was light, almost playful, but there was an underlying intensity that made your heart race. "Don' think I ain't noticed the way you been dancin' all night."

You moaned softly, tilting your head back to give him better access. The alcohol had blurred the lines between right and wrong, making every sensation more acute, every emotion more raw. "Remy..." you pleaded, unsure of what you were asking for but desperate for more. You wanted whatever this was, desperately.

Maybe he'd had a bit to drink too, in all honesty. He just knew he had to have you, too. Right now.

He chuckled, the sound deep and resonant, sending vibrations through you. "Say my name again, cher," he demanded, his hand sliding up to cup your face. His thumb traced your bottom lip, his gaze locked heavily on yours.

"Remy," you repeated, your voice thick with need. You felt trapped, pinned against the wall by his body, but instead of fear, there was only surrender. You wanted this, wanted him, despite the chaos swirling inside you. You'd wanted this for a while, although you'd never been one to make the first move.

"Dat's right cher," he praised, his eyes darkening with satisfaction. "Now, let's see how much more you can take."

With that, he lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you towards the stairs. The crowd parted for both of you, whispers and stares following your progress. But you were beyond caring, lost in the haze of alcohol and Remy's commanding presence.

He kicked open the door, stepping into a dimly lit room. You'd guessed it was his. It honestly wouldn't have mattered if you two had decided to fuck in a broom closet for all you cared.

The air was cooler here, a contrast to the heat building between you. He set you down on the bed, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Ready fo' round two, cher?" he asked, his voice a seductive growl.

You nodded, your mouth dry, your body trembling with anticipation. "Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

Remy smiled, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Den let's begin," he said, his hands moving to unbutton your shirt.

Remy's hands were rough as they tore at your clothes, the fabric rending under his urgency. You gasped as the cool air hit your skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from Remy's body. His lips found your neck, pressing hot kisses that quickly turned into bites, each one sending a shock of pleasure and pain through you.

"Remy!" you hissed, your voice mingling with the sounds of your clothing being discarded. His name was a plea, a demand, a surrender all at once.

He chuckled against your skin, the sound vibrating through you. "Ya like dat, cher?" he murmured, his tongue caressing the skin at your neck to soothe the marks he'd left.

You nodded, unable to form words as his hands roamed over your body, exploring, claiming. The room spun around you, the world reduced to the sensations Remy was creating.

Without warning, he flipped you over, your stomach landing on the bed as he positioned himself behind you. You felt his hand on your back, pressing you down as he whispered in your ear, "Y'need to be punished."

His words instantly sent a thrill through you, a mix of shame and excitement that pooled low in your belly. You whimpered, arching your back slightly, inviting him to continue.

His hand lifted, then came down hard on your ass, the slap echoing through the room. You cried out, the pain sharp and sudden, but beneath it, there was an undeniable rush of arousal.

"Dat's for hittin' me," Remy said, his voice thick with desire. He spanked you again, harder this time, the force making your whole body tremble.

You moaned, your hands gripping the sheets as he continued his assault, each strike more punishing than the last. The pain was intense, but it was laced with such overwhelming pleasure that you couldn't help but push back against his hand, begging for more.

"Please," you gasped, your voice raw. "More, Remy, please."

He paused, his hand resting on your reddened flesh. "Y'want more, cher? You wanna be taught a lesson?"

You nodded, your breathing erratic as you waited for his next move.

Remy chuckled, the sound dark and pleased. "Den let's see how much you can take."

With that, he slicked himself up with something you'd seen him reach for in his dresser drawer and entered you from behind, his thrusts deep and hard, each one hitting your core with unrelenting force. You screamed, the sound torn from your throat as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you.

"Yes, yes, yes!" you chanted, your body moving in sync with his, lost in the rhythm he had set.

Remy growled, his grip tightening on your hips as he pounded into you. "You like dis, don't you? Bein' punished by me? Such a-mm!-good lil' slut you're bein' fo' Gambit." He bit back his own moan, biting down hard on his bottom lip.

You could only moan in response, your mind too consumed by sensation to form coherent thoughts.

He reached around, his fingers finding your center, touching you in all the right ways as he continued to thrust. The dual stimulation was too much, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Come for me, cher," Remy commanded, his voice ragged with his own need. "Show me how much you love bein' punished."

That was all it took. With a final, desperate cry, you shattered around him, your body convulsing in release as he continued to thrust, chasing his own climax.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned, his voice a mixture of awe and triumph. "S'good fo' me."

You felt him tense, then he was coming inside you, his seed filling you as his body shuddered with his release.

For a moment, there was silence, the only sound your heavy breathing and the pounding of your hearts. Then, Remy collapsed beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you close.

"I think we both needed that," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

You nodded, too spent to speak. The alcohol had fueled your actions, but it was Remy who had taken control, guiding you through a night of passion and punishment that neither of you would soon forget.

[justwinginglife]

Chemistry, Comedy, and Calamity

At the request of @rayisaemobookworm, sorry it took me so long to finish this.

No one was supposed to know you were dating the Vice Captain of the Third Division. 

Everyone assumed anyway. 

The two of you never spoke of your relationship, never confirmed the rumors, never used official labels, and when asked, you’d claim you were nothing more than the best of friends, but anyone with eyes could see that the two of you were in love.

Chemistry like yours would be wasted if you weren’t together. 

You’d flirt and banter over the comms, unbothered by the entire Third Division listening in, and then compete with him on the battlefield, fighting for kills and comparing wins. Then when the battle was over, you’d dote on him, tending to his wounds with care, and chiding him for being reckless, like you weren’t the one who had previously egged him on to be better, to be faster, to be stronger, to keep up with you. 

When you’d go out on patrols together, inseparable as usual, the other officers would swear that your chatter alone would scare away any possible threat, because when you made your rounds, the entire base rumbled with the echoes of your laughter, of your boisterous conversation. 

And when you went to formal events together, when his eyes would hungrily rake over the length of your dress, lingering on every dip and curve, when you’d adjust his tie meticulously, straightening it and smoothing it down with care, it was clear that the two of you had feelings for each other. 

One day, you came across a ring that you thought he’d like and you jokingly proposed to him with it but when he accepted, when his genuine smile melted your heart, when he started excitedly yapping about wedding venues, about honeymoon destinations, there was no doubt in your mind that you were going to marry him. 

The day he started wearing his ring to work, plain for all to see, was the day the Third Division erupted into chaos.

They’d all been so confident in their previous assumptions that the two of you were dating, but when he made his way onto base with the ring glimmering around his finger, and when you strode in moments later without a ring to match, their confidence shattered, their assumptions dashed to bits. 

Had you never been together in the first place? Had he always had a girl at home? Did that girl know how close he was with you? Was it okay for him to be so close to you?

Rumors ran rampant and soon every locker room, every lunch room, every bathroom, was flooded with gossip about Hoshina. 

When you caught wind of it, you were amused. You knew there was a gem hanging from a string round your neck that could easily prove his innocence, but with your suit zipped up, no one else was aware of its presence and you couldn’t waste this opportunity to tease your fiance. 

You found him buried in paperwork at his desk and when he saw you sauntering towards him, his eyes lit up and he pushed aside any work to stand and greet you.

“Heyyy, Soshirooo.” You purred innocently as you took up position beside him. 

He raised an eyebrow at you as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you towards him. “Yes? Something up?”

“How come you didn’t tell me you had a wife at home?” You pouted. 

He choked on his spit. “Sorry, what??”

You bit your lip to hold back your giggles. Then you let out an exaggerated sigh. “Here I was, thinking we were getting serious, and all along, I’ve just been some side mistress. Oh, the tragedy. I can feel my heart breaking.” You threw a hand across your chest for dramatic effect. 

He snorted. “Alright, what is this? What are you talking about, dork?”

You laughed. “Apparently the whole division has it in their heads that you’re married to someone else since you’re wearing a ring and I’m not.”

He rolled his eyes. “That’s ridiculous. You know you’re the only one for me baby.” He tightened his grip on your hips and pressed kisses to the side of your neck. 

“Careful, someone might catch you cheating on your wife.” You teased.

He pouted at your teasing, but you didn’t mistake the way his grip on you loosened slightly. “Can’t we just tell them now?” He whined.

You shook your head. “But I’m having so much fun.”

He was unamused. “Cuz you’re not the one they’re talking about,” He grumbled as he held you close again, resting his head on your shoulder. 

“I’ll tell them soon, okay, baby?” You kissed the top of his head.

He let out a huff. “Sure you will. I hope you have lots of fun while you can, because I will be getting you back for this later.”

You laughed. “Alright Soshiro, have it your way.”

So you kept up the facade a little longer, you had your fun, but then he started playing the game too. 

You’d ask to have lunch with him, you’d throw your arms around him while he worked, nuzzle up against his neck, but then he’d turn you down, pulling away from your touch, saying “I can’t do this anymore, I have a wife and child at home, I can’t keep seeing you,” and then he’d smirk at you when your jaw dropped. 

“Oh you asshole. Just love me already.” You’d whine.

He’d shake his finger at you. “Nuh-uh. Not until you tell everyone the truth.” 

So he withheld dinner dates and cuddle nights to test how long you could last. 

You wanted to give up immediately, you were practically shaking from withdrawal, but his smug smile hardened your resolve. You started spinning your tale of woe to anyone who would listen about how devastated you were to find out that he was living a secret life.

“And I’ll admit it, I was in love with the man. Utterly and completely in love. And now, to find out he’s been married this whole time? With a child? My heart can’t take it.”

Hoshina would snort at your antics and then load you up with extra work as punishment for “disorderly conduct.”

But the back and forth ended when you had your first large battle in months. The Third Division had been recently enjoying some peace and quiet, with only a few yoju here and there to disrupt said peace, but today the Third Division found themselves completely overwhelmed with a flood of kaiju, big and small. 

Hoshina completely forgot about your little feud, checking every inch of your suit to make sure it would serve its purpose before allowing you to join him on the battlefield, and then squeezing your hand and resting his forehead against yours on the transport so he could savor what time he had with you before it erupted into chaos. “Promise me you’ll be okay. No unnecessary risks, yeah baby?” He murmured into your ear, nipping at it gently. 

“I promise, love. Same goes for you. Don’t go dying on me or I’ll kill you.”

He chuckled and pulled away to gaze at you fondly. “I wouldn’t dare to incur the wrath of my side mistress.” He winked at you.

You jabbed him in the side.

“Sorry, I mean, fiancee.” He whispered the last bit so no one else could hear. 

You rolled your eyes. “You would joke at a time like this, dumbass.” 

He grinned at you and you memorized every inch of his smile in case it was the last time you saw it.

Then you arrived at your destination.

I love you, you mouthed to him before jumping off the transport and joining in the fight. 

War was always bloody, but this battle felt like an endless sea of blood, with nowhere safe to dock, with nothing stable to anchor you. 

You’d always cherished your swords, both for the confidence they instilled in you, and for the comfort they brought you because they matched Soshiro’s, but today, you felt your swords might not be enough, you felt the onslaught might be too heavy, the fight too gruesome. You’d kill to have a gun right about now.

After slicing your way through endless waves of Kaiju, after enduring the pain that seared through your arms with each aggressive motion, you’d kill to have any means to end this fight. To see daylight. To see Soshiro. You knew he was beside you, he’d never leave you for a second, but you hadn’t found a moment to check on him, to make sure he still had all his limbs, you hadn’t a moment for anything besides the fight at hand. 

Every Kaiju seemed bigger and uglier than the last, and you’d always hated them, but you were starting to feel downright vengeful now. Especially when you took a cut to the chest and felt the comfortable weight of your ring disappear. You didn’t have the time to spare a glance in the direction your ring had fallen, you didn’t even have the time to breathe. But the devastation at losing your ring spurred you on to fight more violently, more viciously, than ever before and soon the fight came to its conclusion. 

Before you knew it, you had collapsed to your knees and started desperately rummaging through corpse after corpse for your ring, not even caring that your vision was blurred through your tears. 

Soshiro realized what you were doing and immediately enlisted the help of every member of the Third Division to look for a ring. 

“Your ring, sir? The one we’ve seen you wearing?”

“My fiancee’s diamond ring. Y/N’s ring.”

Silence and shock filled the air as the realization dawned on everyone, but the moment was short lived, because soon Soshiro was clapping and barking out orders to everyone, “Come on people, we don’t have the benefit of daylight for much longer and I will have us on our hands and knees looking for it even if night falls, so get to it!”

You’d always thought that when you finally announced your engagement to Soshiro that you could throw a nice party to celebrate, that you could announce it together, that you could share in congratulations and bask in the love and support of your friends and family.

Instead, you shared in the blood, sweat, and tears of your fellow officers as you scoured every inch of the messy landscape together, and when your ring was finally found, you all celebrated by taking a dive (no one had the energy to actually dive, it was more like dragging their deadened bodies) into the nearby river to wash the exhaustion and the grime from your aching limbs. 

As you floated beside Soshiro in the cool waters, with the ring nestled safely around your finger, he turned to look at you fondly.

Then he laughed.

“God, I hope our wedding isn’t half as lively as this engagement party.”

[mikkomacko]

i feel like i’m being greedy that i keep asking stuff but i just gobble up everything you put out stg

but can you do a lil blurb of how you mentioned nico gets grumpy about jack teasing him about their sex life and reader babying him

i love big boss man but i need her to baby him ( & maybe scold jack too) 🤩💓

A/n: this isn’t so much reader babying Nico. It’s more her letting Nico be tough mafioso man to Jack lol but I can do another with her taking care of grumpy nico if you’d like 🤍

~~~~~

“Jack I’m paying to renovate that whole fucking place for you, stop bitching.”

As if he’d been physically kicked, Jack slumps into his seat at the dinner table, sadly swirling his fork around in his pasta.

Blue eyes look at you, wide and begging. He’s egging you on, you know it. He wants you to sigh, turn to Nico and scold him for being too rough on the boy. It’s what you typically do when Nico gets fed up and snaps at Jack. But tonight he’s right.

Nico had purchased a loft apartment for Jack and Luke and all the younger boys to live in a few years ago. Way before you were in the picture. Through meticulous planning (and his incredible love for his boys) Nico has put aside a whole fund to revamp the place into the perfect bachelor pad for them.

Unfortunately while it’s being worked on, Jack and Luke have moved into the house with you two. And Jack has been making it everyone’s problem.

“I like staying here,” Luke butts in, pasta sauce smeared on the corner of his mouth. “My room is huge, there’s a pool, and we get family dinners.”

“It’s too cold to even use the pool,” Jack sasses his brother, and Luke slurps back a bite of spaghetti.

“Maybe I just like the sound of the water Jack,” the youngest Hughes snips. “We did grow up by a lake, idiot.”

You can sense the oncoming fight, looking to Nico at the head of the table with wide eyes. He’s sipping his red wine, empty dinner plate in front of him and he raises an eyebrow as if to say ‘what are you gonna do about it baby?’

Scoffing, you look between Jack and Luke. “Ok, family dinner is over. You, go wash up and get ready for bed.” You instruct, addressing the older brother.

Jack huffs, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at Luke. Knowing he’s going to whine about his brother, you now address the boy sitting next to you.

“And you, finish that plate and then wash up too. You’re both on dish duty and if there’s any whining you’ll be doing it again tomorrow.”

A pleased smirk curls at Jack’s lips and he scoops up his plate before moving to the kitchen. Nico places his now empty glass on the table, using the napkin on his lap to wipe the corners of his mouth. When he drops it onto the table, a cheeky smile has taken over his face.

“Do you need instructions too mister?” You taunt, stacking your plates with his. He grunts, relaxing back into his chair and spreading his thighs out.

“M’just admiring your work boss,” he teases, winking at you. A giggle bubbles out of you, cheeks heating up and you shake your head at him. “Wanna show me how you get them to listen like that?”

“Oh yeah, I can show you a lot of things.” You purr, sliding your sock clad foot across the floor until you meet his shin. Teasingly, you drag your toes up until the apples of his cheeks have grown splotchy.

“You two are disgusting.”

Luke’s words make you jump, having forgotten he was there. Before you can say anything he’s gathering his own dishes and disappearing into the kitchen, shaking that messy head of curls as he goes.

You and Nico snicker, admiring each other with teasing grins for a moment longer before he pushes his chair out. Following his lead, you both take your dirty dishes and glasses to the sink.

Jack and Luke are loading the dishwasher when you enter, backs to you as they talk and hand off objects from the sink.

“Thanks boys,” you say, placing both yours and Nico’s things by the sink. They sigh in unison, Jack just grunting in response and Nico flicks the back of his head as he walks away from them.

A little guilty, you step between the two, sliding an arm around both of their waists. “Turn off the lights before bed ok? I’ll have breakfast in the morning for you both?”

Simultaneously, they pause and look down at you. “Pancakes?”

“Of course,” you agree, and they share a knowing grin before looking back at you and nodding.

Rising to your toes, you peck a gentle kiss to Jack’s head. “Goodnight J,” you murmur, then do the same to Luke. “Night Lukey.”

You step back, let them return to doing dishes. “Night y/n,” they say in unison and you slip under Nico’s awaiting arm. Pinching his side, Nico frowns at you before rolling his eyes.

“See you boys in the morning “ Nico grumbles and you laugh when Luke turns his head back, smiling like a kid on Christmas.

“Night papa.”

Annoyance pinches at Nico’s face. It only gets worse when Jack looks over his shoulder with a devilish grin. “Did ya see her kiss me goodnight boss? You better take care of her or I will.”

The wink he sends you makes Nico scoff and before he can say anything you’re pushing him towards the stairs.

Nico’s huffing and puffing as he climbs the stairs. “Oh I’ll take care of you, alright,” he grunts, eyebrows scrunched together. “Always fucking take care of ya.”

And he does. So you lovingly rub his back as you make your way to the main bedroom, and when Nico closes and locks the door, you let him toss you onto the mattress, ass up of course because that’s his favorite. And then he’s taking his time with you.

If Jack keeps up his teasing, you’re in for a long couple of nights.

~~~~

You meet the boys the next day at The Rock around lunchtime. They had a meeting earlier but Nico wants to take you out to eat after.

By the time you get there, a few have already dispersed but the usual characters are still hanging around the booths with your boyfriend.

Who doesn’t look so pleased now that you actually see him. Eyebrows furrowing, you look up at Timo who has a similar look of concern on his face.

“Uh-oh,” he whispers and you nod, closing the rest of the distance between you and the tables.

“Oh there she is!” Jack hollers when he sees you, but you’re watching Nico. Nico, whose cheeks are splotchy and jaw ticking. Nico whose eyes look even darker than usual, a crease between them. Uh-oh is right, you think. He looks at you, places his elbows on the table and hunches over with a shake of his head.

“I’m surprised you made it,” Jack keeps going, and when you look at him in confusion he’s fighting back giggles. “You and Nico had a long night.”

Oh, you realize, looking back at Nico with apprehension. Jack has gotten into his usual habit of taunting Nico about his sex life. Something Nico doesn’t ever like to share, especially with the boys.

He’s raking his fingers through his hair, looking anywhere but you or Jack. The rest of the boys at the table are snickering, except look who looks to Timo with wide eyes. Within seconds they’re scrambling away together, muttering something about drinks behind the bar.

Ignoring the Hughes boy, you address your boyfriend. “Ready to go Nico?”

He looks up at the sound of his name, nose flaring when he clears his throat and nods. Rising from his chair, you walk over to him and take a hold of his hands.

“Hi,” you whisper, placing his palms on your waist. He pulls you into him, presses the lightest kiss on your cheek.

“Hi baby,” he grumbles, and you touch the splotchy part on the left side of his face in an attempt to calm him down.

Not that it gets the chance to work.

“Wait before you go,” Jack is interrupting, pushing himself up to sit on the backrest of the booth. He rubs his hands together, shares a look with Mercer and laughs.

“Could you pick up some earplugs for tonight? Nico is just so fucking loud and if I have to hear him come one more time I’m gonna-“

Nico’s grip on you has tightened, so much so that his blunt nails sting through the fabric of your shirt. He’s angry, so fucking angry you can physically him trying to keep himself from reaching across the table and dragging Jack over it by the collar of his shirt. You know he wouldn’t hurt Jack or even scold him for that matter, not without your permission at least. He knows how protective you are over them.

Even when he’s angry, he’s the sweetest man you know.

“Oh baby,” you murmur when he closes his eyes, lashes fluttering with annoyance. Running your hands through his hair, you tune out whatever Jack is still yammering about and lean into to kiss just below Nico’s ear.

“Go scare him,” you whisper so just he can hear you. Nico pulls back instantly, eyes snapping open and looking at you for reassurance. You bite back a smirk, nodding. “Put him back in line boss.”

That’s all Nico needs before he’s releasing you and moving back to the table. Just as you suspected, he reaches over the booth and grips the collar of Jack’s shirt in his fist.

The bar falls deathly quiet, everyone holding their breath as Nico yanks Jack forward onto his hands and knees across the tabletop.

Wide eyed and terrified, Jack scrambles for his footing and stares back at Nico. “Since you’re so fucking tired you can leave,” he growls, and you take a second to admire how hot he looks when he’s angry.

“Nico I’m sorry-“

“For the week,” Nico grunts. “You’re out. And if what I do in my own fucking house is such a problem, you can set up at Haula’s. I’m sure you’ll have fun with the wife and kids.”

Jack is already shaking his head when Nico releases him, nudging him back into his seat.

“Please don’t make me stay with the babies, all they do is cry-“

“You’ll fit right in.” Nico barks, and then he’s turning back to you, winking mischievously. You take his outstretched hand, wiggle your fingers at Jack.

“Y/n,” Jack whines. “Don’t let him kick me out, please?”

“I’ll let Kristin know you’ll be over later,” you tease. Jack pouts, sinks back into his seat and thumps his head against the table.

And when you and Nico pick Jack up from Haula’s in the morning, he’s all apologies and thank-you’s for letting him stay at the house.

[dotster001]

Hiii!!! first, before I start I'm very socially awkward and my English sucks so this might be a bit cringe to read... but I just have to say, I LOVE your writing!!! you have such a cool writing style and your way of writing characters is always in character you're just AWESOME!!!! if it's not too much to ask, can I request a fight between all the dorm and vice-dorm heads (just dorm heads is cool too) when they overhear that the reader/MC has a crush (i simp for all of them)? again, love your writing so much!

Battle Royale

A/N: you have no idea how surprised I was that this wasn't the one voted for the last day. 😂 it's fine though, and I hope you enjoy!

3k follower Masterlist

Trein had held you after class today, and you were a little scared, to say the least. You didn't think you or Grim had done anything wrong today, but you could never be too sure.

Once the last student had left, he looked up at you.

"You've been acting odd lately. I've raised two children, and taught thousands of students, so I know why."

You didn't think you'd been acting odd. But you weren't the most self aware out there, if the numerous overblots you'd nearly missed were anything to go by.

"Oh?" You asked.

He sighed heavily, and gently took your hand. 

"You've ingratiated yourself into my heart, like one of my own kids. So I'm going to tell you this; none of the boys at this school is worth the trouble."

"Huh?"

"I don't know which one you have a crush on, but there are less than a handful that deserve the attention."

Your cheeks began to warm, and you gasped. You hadn't thought too deeply about it, but there was definitely someone you'd had your eye on, maybe a bit too much, recently. If Trein had noticed…had he noticed as well?

"I'll uh, I'll keep that in mind."

"Please do," he gave you a firm stare, then turned back to his papers.

You were so out of it, that you didn't notice your two friends who had stayed behind for emotional support.

….

"It's definitely me."

"In what world would it ever be you!"

Trey entered the kitchen to check on the bread in the oven, and sighed to himself as he watched the freshmen fight with each other.

"What are you up to?" He asked.

"Nothin-" Deuce muttered, but was cut off by Ace.

"If Y/N had a crush on someone, it'd be me, right?"

Trey stared at the two, then slowly turned to the oven.

"Where is this coming from?" He asked.

"Trein kept Y/N behind today, and told them whoever they have a crush on isn't worth it."

"Hm. And you both think it's you, because?"

Both of them froze. They could hear the challenge in Trey's voice, and neither of them knew how to approach it.

"Well, why wouldn't it be?" Ace snapped. "We hang out with them more than anyone. If it's anybody, it's me or Deucey." 

Trey smiled at the temporary unification of his freshmen, and calmly asked, "Wouldn't it make sense if they went for someone with more life experience? Someone more mature?"

The freshmen were silent again, before Deuce asked, tentatively, "Has…has Y/N said something to you?"

Trey hummed, putting together Riddle's dinner tray.

"No. At least, not verbally."

And then he left the kitchen. He couldn't wipe the soft smile from his face. Riddle noticed it as Trey poured his tea. 

"Did something good happen?"

"Hm? Oh, the freshmen found out Y/N had a crush on someone, and assumed it was one of them. I told them it would probably be someone more mature."

Riddle hummed thoughtfully. "True," he sipped his tea, "Y/N would go for someone more mature, who is someone who was also not that much older than them."

"Oh, you think so?" A challenge.

"Yes." A retort.

….

From there, Riddle took his information to the housewardens meeting, who took it to their vicehousewardens, who in turn spread it to the rest of the school.

In less than a couple hours, Malleus and Leona were literally at each other's throats, as the rest of the school egged them on.

"Y/N has more class than to fall for a mangy housecat!" A bolt of green lightning nearly hit Leona, who dodged at the last second.

"They certainly would never fall for a scaly lizard!" The air around Malleus filled with sand.

"Shouldn't we put a stop to this?" Silver asked Lilia, who was busy restraining Sebek.

"Kids will be kids," Lilia laughed in response.

Ruggie tapped Azul on the shoulder, holding out his open hand. "Five thaumarks to join the pot. Who do you think will win?"

Azul smirked, "Neither, because Y/N is surely in love with me. They've all but said so."

"Sure, sure," Ruggie rolled his eyes. "Because out of everyone they could choose, it would be the person who takes 20% of their tips, and not the person who shares home cooked meals with them."

"I couldn't help but overhear your discussion, boys, but don't fool yourselves. The only person Y/N could possibly fall for would be the embodiment of the fairest Queen," Vil hummed as he passed them, fully intent on stopping the fight which was already well out of hand.

But he was halted by a hand on his wrist. 

"Schoenheit, don't be a silly boy and embarrass yourself," Lilia hummed, his eyes turning more crimson than fuschia. "Besides," he laughed lightly, going back to playful, "rumor has it, Y/N is in love with someone with life experience, something I have more of than anyone else here."

"Sure," Vil muttered at his peer. He was quickly pulled into the fight when he reached them, purple magic joining the sand and emerald lightning.

Rook was watching the fight with wide eyed enthusiasm. His emerald eyes were taking in everything they did, studying their moves for use at…well…a later date. 

Idia's tablet, meanwhile, was focused solely on Rook, the terror practically radiating from it. It was muted, but if it wasn't, people would have heard Ortho hyping him up. But Idia did not want to fight the hunter. Not with the way his eyes were glittering with blood lust.

Jade was about to prevent Floyd from elbow slamming his way into the fight, when all the boys were forcibly separated by an unknown force. All eyes traveled to Trein, who was staring at them all in disgust.

"Animals. The lot of you," he snarled, staring everyone down. "Anyone involved in any way will be punished accordingly."

….

"Why did Professor Trein keep you behind today?" Asked Jack, who was blissfully unaware of the war going on. He had offered to help you study after class, and had been curious as to why he'd beat you to Ramshackle.

"Oh," you hesitated. "Well, he noticed I'd been behaving odd lately, and told me to be careful."

"Y/N's in love, and teach said no one was good enough!"

"Grim!" You cried, burying your face in your hands.

"Oh," Jack said, trying to be as cool as possible. "Who is it?"

You peaked through your fingers, opening and shutting your mouth a few times.

"If you don't tell him, I will," Grim snickered.

"Don't," you whined. You took a steadying breath, and began, "Okay. It's…"

[angelcent]

ABOUT A GIRL・❥・S. GOJO

from an old ask: how do we feel about tattoist!gojo?! and your first tattoo being done by him. contains. tattoo artist gojo, tattoo virgin reader, grungepunk!gojo, fluff

lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıı — about a girl / nirvana

✧˚ · . tattoist!gojo is constantly recommended by people because he's known for several things: his pure attention to detail, his versatility in tattoo styles, how light his hand is, and how comfortable he makes his clients feel. he can be a little overwhelming and intimidating, though.

✧˚ · . unlike suguru who can be a bit pretentious and internally judgmental about his clients choices, tattoist!gojo really doesn't care as long as it's not something too offensive.

✧˚ · . his studio is decorated with an assortment of movie & concert prints, as well as pictures he's taken with suguru and shoko or their other friends. at the front desk is his ugly clay coffee mug that megumi made for him as a child that he now uses to store pens. it has a lot of personality and makes you feel at ease when you walk through the doors and fill out your paper work.

✧˚ · . when you first meet satoru, he doesn't take much notice of you because he doesn't want you to feel leered at; it's a common occurance for male tattooists to make others uncomfortable; and you're trusting him with such a vulnerable process, so satoru keeps his distance. keeps it professional.

✧˚ · . as it's your first time, he gives you a rundown of the entire process and is honest—blunt—about the pain you'll experience, but also reassures you that you'll be okay. "anyway, don't give that much though," he grins, absently twirling his pen. as if he hadn't just almost frightened you out of the door. "I'll take good care of you, hm? leave it to me." and he says it with such self assured confidence, that it completely eases your nerves.

✧˚ · . tattoist!gojo texts you a checklist in order to prepare for your appointment—what clothing is best, possible snacks to bring (water is provided), an on-call friend in case you want to be picked up, and oddly, what music you like?

✧˚ · . whatever is your music type is, you walk into his space on the day of your first session with it softly playing inside the shop. tattoist!gojo is talkative; walking you through his entire sanitation process and the tools he'll be using. unbeknownst to you, satoru is observant in his daily life and in his profession. he quickly caught the way your shoulders were drawn up with nerves, how you wiped the palm of your hand over your thigh. and the more you hear him talk, the more relaxed your body language becomes. it's why he does it.

✧˚ · . tattoist!gojo in an old washed out band shirt again. it's what he always wears, and most belong to suguru. his best friend has given up on his clothes being stolen after so many years.

✧˚ · . tattoist!gojo just as talkative when he's finally putting ink on your skin, and it surprisingly keeps your mind off the pain. sometimes you tune him out, but the rumble of his attractive voice keeps you grounded. satoru will talk about anything and everything. he tells you about his first tattoo—three eyes behind his ears on each side. six in total. and how he got them done at this small punk show when he was sixteen and egged on by his best friend.

✧˚ · . tattoist!gojo has ink all over his visible skin— arms, neck, you even catch a peek of more inked skin below the collar of his t-shirt when he leans down. what's cute is all the small doodles in the empty spaces between the bigger pieces, and he tells you how he did most of them himself whenever he's bored. some are done by friends, like a small happy face near his knuckle from haibara.

✧˚ · . as much as he tries to keep this professional though, satoru slowly becomes attracted to you over the course of your session. he rarely hits it off with someone so well, and he finds himself listening intently to every piece of information you give him about yourself.

✧˚ · . he can be a bit of an asshole sometimes, but you either call him out on it or bite back. he loves that.

✧˚ · . tattoist!gojo is great at calling to check up on your healing, giving you reminders on how to maintain it until the next session. he can't help but want to hear your voice, so he calls instead of texting or emailing like he usually does. you don't know any better, though. works in his favor.

✧˚ · . on your last session, tattoist!gojo is filled with the pride that never gets old at seeing the piece almost finished. what was once a mere idea is now brought to life and forever inked on your pretty skin. and you seem excited about it as well.

"see, not so bad now, was it?" he hums, wiping at the final touches. he doesn't bother to fight back the smirk. "told you I'm the best." "hm, you're alright. I guess." you tease, chuckling when he immediately looks up at you looking like a kicked puppy. "I'm kidding. thank you, satoru. really. I'm already thinking of what to get next, actually." if he were a dog, his ears would be perked up. tail wagging. he almost wants to barf.

"yeah? you sure you're not just saying that cause you'll miss seeing me?" he jokes, but deep down he's hoping you'll want him to remain as your future artist. even if that's the only way he'll keep seeing you, he'll take it. he's enjoyed far too much the way you make him feel wanted. "maybe I am." you murmur. swallowing your pride, you let the words spill out of your mouth. "but what if I wanted to see you sooner? you said I should go to your friends show this weekend. it'll be my first time, so it'd help to have you there." as soon as the words come out of your mouth, you're already regretting being so bold. satoru is just a friendly guy, he obviously just wanted his friend to get support and probably says that to everyone. so you backtrack immediately. "b-but if you can't or don't want to it's okay! sorry I just—" "'course I want to, buttercup. heh, I said I'll take good care of you, remember?" he laughs a little too loudly, quickly looking down at your finished piece. he wipes at the clean skin, pretending like he's working but he's just hiding his reddened cheeks. he hopes the crack in his voice was only audible to him. doesn't want you to see what a loser he is and how much you affect him.

[alienssstufff]

The Slimecicle analyst sleeper agent in me woke up again we analysing shit

The dynamic between qSlime and Sunny is so fascinating - like by law yes they are bound together as family and of course they care about each other and trust each other to an extent, yet there's always this distance that they try to keep.

Both Slime and Sunny put in the effort to get to know one another despite what other people say about them, but there's a billion unanswered questions Sunny has for their pop - and a billion unspoken secrets that Slime doesn't have the vulnerability to share.

Notably the assassination Slime initially had on Sunny (he never tells her this), and the conversation the two of them had in the snow when Sunny brings up the rumours. Even towards his daughter Slime is defensive, he doesn't coddle them as much as he did with Juanaflippa. The distinction between Juanaflippa (as a concept) and Sunny for Slime's character is extremely important as Sunny (even as his daughter) does not fit that flippa mold. By doing this Slime draws this line as a response from his trauma, but when these lines start to blur as Slime and Sunny do more father-daughter stuff together (egg tasks, games, lullabies) -- is when Slime starts to break down (eg: the bedtime rap).

There's only so much they can do as a family without addressing the glaring holes in their relationship before it gets worse.