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saetoru · 10 months

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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。2:09 AM — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy! au)

contents. college au!, rich boy! gojo, established relationships, alcohol consumption (gojo), mentions of his rude dad tryna break y’all up >:(

it’s test night. meaning you have a very important test that will heavily weigh on your grade coming up at 8:30 am sharp. gojo should know not to bother you—you’ve told him at least one million times (maybe one billion) that you absolutely will not be coming over.

but judging by the insistent knocking on your door, he’s failed to listen to your warnings and decided to come to you instead. so you decide you’re going to kill him as soon as you open that door—you’re going to walk up, open the door, cup his cheeks and take one last good look at that beautiful face, and then you’re going to kill him and bury him somewhere where no one will find him.

except when you open the door, ready to scold your painfully irritating boyfriend, you’re greeted by his best friend instead. geto has gojo slung over his shoulder with a tired enough look on his face that you almost feel bad for him even after he’s ruined your sleep. almost.

“it’s two am,” you say, unimpressed. gojo perks up as he hears your voice, slurring your name as he tries to take a step towards you—if not for geto’s arm around his waist, you’re pretty sure your boyfriend would face plant onto the floor.

“yes, and i’ve dealt with him until this long. it’s your turn,” geto grumbles.

“just take him home, i don’t want him,” you wrinkle your nose. gojo whines in disbelief, still too drunk to stand on his own two feet or form proper words. you raise a brow and then promptly decide to ignore him.

“well, i don’t want him either,” geto huffs, “and he doesn’t want to go home. he went at it with his father again.”

“then make him sleep in his car.”

“he’s your boyfriend,” geto insists.

“he’s your best friend. you’ve known him longer.”

“you know him just as well,” he argues, “plus, you fuck him. that’s way more than what i do.”

“suguru!” you sputter, earning a sly grin from the dark-haired jerk standing before you—maybe you should kill both of them and hide their bodies in your freezer.

but then again, your tiny freezer in your run-down apartment that you can hardly afford as a tired, overworked college student couldn’t possibly fit two oversized men with abnormally large limbs. so instead, you offer geto a not-so-appropriate hand gesture (that he graciously returns) and grab gojo from his arms.

and instantly, gojo brightens.

“baby!” he slurs, kissing your cheeks with sloppy, scattered pecks. you crinkle your nose at the smell of alcohol surrounding you as soon as he enters your personal space.

“he’s your problem now,” geto mutters, rolling his eyes at the headache he’s had to supervise for the entirety of the night. you suppose you can feel a little bad for him—but only a tiny bit.

“wanna crash on the couch?” you ask sympathetically. it earns a soft smile from geto before he shakes his head.

“nah, i’ll go home. thanks.” with an affectionate flick to your forehead, he turns and walks back to his car, leaving you with the lanky, drunken mess leaning half his body weight on you.

you really should kill gojo satoru—and you should do it before 8:30 am.

“didn’t i tell you i have a test?” you grumble, dragging him to your bedroom.

he flops unceremoniously onto your mattress, snuggling with the stuffed bear by your pillows. and you should stay strong, but before you can help it, you smile softly at the sight.

“i won this for you,” he grins, his sunglasses crooked and falling to the tip of his nose. you grab them from his face and set them on your nightstand.

“yes, i know,” you roll your eyes, “i was there.”

“you kept it,” he giggles, words still slurred and messy.

“yes, satoru,” you snort, “i kept the stuffed bear my boyfriend won me. it’s not a surprise.”

“‘s right,” he nods, “‘m your boyfriend. best one you ever had, huh?”

“sure,” you sigh, pulling him by the arm to sit up. he puckers his lips as soon as his face is close enough to yours, looking at your expectantly.

“gimme a kiss. i need a kiss,” he demands.

“satoru, you’re drunk,” you sigh, trying to work the sweaty button-up off his body, “and you smell like beer.”

gojo is well built—he doesn’t seem like it because he’s a bit lanky and has an awful sense of fashion that doesn’t do his figure any justice, but he’s well built. you try your best not to stare at the sculpted abs and the curves of his pecs—especially not the slight sweatiness of the skin that makes it almost glisten.

nope. you keep your eyes trained on him, not his shirtless torso.

except gojo satoru is nothing if not observant even in his drunken stupor—he grins that shit-eating grin of his that you hate so much but fall in love with every time, noticing the way your eyes wander back to his chest every few seconds for a fleeting glance.

“you don’t have’ta sneak a look, baby,” he slurs smoothly, chuckling, “‘m all yours. wanna feel?” and because he’s an asshole, he grabs your hand and lays it flat on his chest. “i’ve been working out with suguru. can you tell?” he winks.

“no,” you say flatly, pushing him back onto the mattress once you’ve worked his shirt off, “now sleep.”

“can’t sleep unless i’m in boxers,” he pouts, “can you take my pants off for me?”

and he even dares to bat his long, unfairly pretty eyelashes at you, putting on his best innocent face. you see past him, though—you see the smirk he tries to hide and the amusement in his clouded eyes.

you’re definitely going to hide his body in your freezer.

“you’ll live,” you huff.

“please,” he pouts deeper, “can’t sleep in these. too uncomfortable.”

“fine,” you hiss, and for a brief moment, you mourn the sleep you should be getting right before the most crucial midterm of your life.

you glare at his cheeky grin as you work his belt off, unbuttoning his pants and sliding them down his legs, grumbling curses under your breath. this time, you make careful work not to stare at his lower half—you refuse to give him the satisfaction.

“are you ready for sleep now, your highness?” you ask with a raised brow. he giggles and nods, holding an arm out for you.

“c’mere.”

and….well, you can’t exactly complain once you’re nestled comfortably in his arms, cheek pressed against the bare skin of his chest. his arm wraps around your body tightly, pulling you close as he plants a wet kiss on your forehead.

“you’re a handful,” you sigh, “did you bother suguru too much?”

“nope,” he shakes his head, “i was on my best behavior.”

“you’re never on your best behavior,” you grin, rolling your eyes. and because you love him, even when he calls you as you study and crashes your apartment as you try to sleep, you lean up and kiss his jaw sweetly, making him hum happily. “goodnight, satoru.”

“you forgot to say i love you.”

“i hate you.”

“so mean,” he whines, making you giggle.

“i love you,” you murmur, “i’ll love you a whole lot more if you let me sleep for my test.”

“kay,” he yawns, wrapping his arms tighter around you, “i love you too.”

it’s silent for a bit, just the steady breaths from gojo and the loud air conditioning ringing in the distance. you’re sure he’s asleep from the way his chest seems to rise and fall under your cheek slowly—until he speaks up quietly, almost as if he doesn’t want you to hear.

“‘m never breaking up with you,” he whispers, “promise. no matter what that old man says.”

you hold your breath as his warm lips press against your forehead—you’re certain he thinks you’re asleep, and you’re also certain that you were never meant to hear those words in the first place. so you swallow, trying not to give away that you’re still very much awake and very much aware of his words.

and then it hits you—suddenly, you remember the way gojo refused to go home, the way geto mentioned he’d gotten into an argument with his father. it clicks all at once that the subject of this argument must’ve been you—gojo’s father has never been subtle about his disapproval, and it’s no secret he’d greatly prefer that the heir of his company stopped dating someone entirely out of his realm—someone like you.

“you’re it for me,” he mumbles softly. you think he sounds a bit more sober as he speaks the words against your forehead—and for a moment, you think that gojo is it for you too.

maybe you’re not so mad about your sleep anymore. maybe, as he kisses your forehead one last time, as his breath slowly evens out and his grip loosens slightly around your body, you fall in love with gojo satoru a little harder.

stab dadjo and stan suguru ‼️

ps here’s a little part 2

#teepods.writings #drabbles.#rich boy! au #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x you #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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bambiimutt · 7 months

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He makes you cry during an Argument.

Arguments with these boys? What could possibly go wrong..

ೃ࿔*:･

Headcannons and short stories under the cut!

ೃ࿔*:･

TW!! talk of Hoodie stalking, but not major! I think that’s it!!

Jeffrey Hodex:

- you’d think an argument with your boyfriend who loves you oh so dearly would hopefully end in him apologizing. Wanting to make sure he didn’t say anything to you to hurt you.. but you sometimes forget he’s not the normal person.

-Jeff has anger issues and it’s not a surprise to anyone when it’s brought up. So typically with any argument he has, his anger tends to get the better of him.

-which means if the argument is small it’s bound to be blown out of proportion, if it’s a pretty bad argument it’s about to be even worse.

-he doesn’t like to listen. To him he’s always right. He’s never wrong even if deep down he knows he actually fucked up he doesn’t want to admit it because he doesn’t want to look “weak” or too “soft”

-he typically doesn’t feel bad if you end up getting hurt emotionally, you’ll get a good ol scoff and roll of the eyes while he tells you “it’s not that big of a fucking deal, you don’t need to be so emotional.” Along the lines of that.

-but… you might just tug a few heart strings when he realized he’s made you cry. It’s when he sees that he’s scared you that he breaks a little. He’s got a habit of punching walls, breaking shit around the house when you both argue, screaming in your face.. and if it all leads to you finally breaking down and shaking that’s where he finally draws his line.

-he didn’t mean to scare you.. not like that at least. The last thing he wants is for you to be scared of him. He loves you.. even if he shows it in odd ways. He’s an asshole yes but he’s your asshole.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“Would you just fucking Listen!” Jeff screamed out. His hands were immediately gripping onto his pants, trying his damned hardest to not punch the closest thing to him. But he can’t help himself the moment you cross your arms and give him that fucking look. “Jeffrey. Cut it out, I’ve listened to you for the past 40 fucking minutes.. you need to listen to me-“ you’re cut off quickly hearing his hand collide with the wall and a loud grunt leaving his lips. He’s slightly heaving, breathing heavily and hair a bit messy in front of his face. You jumped a bit, backing up quickly when he immediately whipped around to trudge towards you, black combat boots making him taller then he already was. His large hand was quick to grab your jaw and squish your cheeks together just slightly. “No you fucking listen to me. Stop being a fucking bitch. Why do you have to pick at everything I fucking do, huh?! Huh?!” If he was a scrawny guy you’d say you’d be able to at least get free but no.. no he was a big guy, tall. Muscular, broad shoulders.. built chest. His biceps twitched slightly as his grip grew harder. There was no way you were escaping this. Not with him. Your small hands pushed at his arm and your eyes watered, a tear falling onto his fingers. Oh.. Jeff’s grip softened as he slowly let go. His form lowering himself so he was at your level. “Oh baby.. oh..” his hands hesitated before cupping your cheeks and his lips are kissing at the corners of your lips, trailing towards your ear. “I didn’t mean it..” his voice is deep, gruff and low in your ear as you immediately wrap your arms around his waist. “I’m sorry..” really it’s the only time you’ll get a sorry out of him, a genuine one at that.

Tobias Rogers

- he’s one of the ones who’s a bit more understanding. He can’t exactly understand physical pain or frustration but he can completely understand emotional pain and anger.. and how fucking awful it can be to handle. So when he’s stood, tall and lanky in front of you, hands swinging in the air and his voice raising he can suddenly feel the room shift to a hurt.. deep cut feeling.

- he tries not to yell he tries to hear you out when you both have an argument, but having BPD can be an issue when it comes to that.. you say one thing in a slight tone and he’s set off. Oh? So this is his fault suddenly? Why did you have to say it like that? You could have said it this way. Why do you have to be such a fucking asshole?

-when in reality that’s not how you meant it at all.. and yes Toby does feel bad for it afterwards he shouldn’t have lashed out that way, he should have sat and listened and maybe asked why you said it that way.. but sometimes things get the better of us.

-he’s not always the one to apologize afterwards but he does when he knows he really fucked up. He can’t lose you not to something so fucking stupid. “I-I’m sorry.. you didn’t deserve to hear that.. to e-endure any of that..” with a sniffle you look up at him teary eyed. Oh that really hurts. “It’s okay Toby” he’s immediately at your side, hands brushing your hair back and placing gentle kisses to your jaw. It kills him when you cry.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“I don’t know Toby I’m just tired..” this is what set him off. The way you said it. You were tired? of this? Of him? Of this relationship? “Are you fucking serious?” He speaks with his teeth clenched together, his head resting in his hands before he’s looking up at your slowly. His body slightly twitches from time to time, though when he was angry it usually became an issue for him, twitching far too often, clearing his throat more aggressively. His tics would normally become more violent in some ways. “Are we just d-done then? That’s it just b-because you’re tired yo-you can’t fucking walk away-“ his arm flys up in the air as he stands, his hands coming to rub at his face and the patch of hair on his chin. His tired droopy eyes dart towards you. You didn’t necessarily start crying because he scared you it was more of the the stress of the situation. “Toby please that’s not what I meant.” He still hasn’t noticed as his tall figure is rambling on, tics making his occasional grip and smack to his leg but he of course can’t feel it. When he finally looks at you he realizes you’ve been crying and it stops. The room becomes quiet and he twitches a few more times before softly kneeling on the floor where you sat. “I shouldn’t have assumed like that.. I’m sorry..” he’s softly laying you down on the floor as his lips trail your neck, his hands placing your arms around his neck. “I’m so sorry.” He mumbles against your neck.

-Ben Lawman/drowned

- to be honest he’s probably not the one who started it. He’s usually pretty calm, and quiet…. Except for when he wants to act like a child and become ignorant and downright inappropriate.

-he can be perverted.. gross and this is usually where the arguments start, not that you don’t like him nor the way he acts it’s more when he says things he shouldn’t be saying. So you typically end up yelling at him and he will normally sit embarrassed and feeling a bit guilty.. he didn’t think you’d get so upset.

- on occasion if the argument isn’t about that and about something else he still is usually the one to just take it but there are rare moments where he snaps back. And when he does. Oh boy.

-constant pacing back and forth, hands in his hair, sharp glares at you and laughing in disbelief. He’ll sometimes say things he doesn’t mean. He’s usually not one to yell but when he does you aren’t really expecting it. So it scares you.. and the tears finally break.

- ben only stares for a moment. “Shit.” Yeah he fucked up big time. He immediately feels guilty and he immediately rushes towards you to pull you into a tight embrace. He didn’t mean to take it that far.. he really didn’t, knowing it was him who made you cry makes him want to break down himself.

ೃ࿔*:･

“You can hate me yknow, I won’t blame you, or be angry..” Ben mumbled against your hair, your sniffling shattering his dead heart even further. You look up at the blonde, your fingers lacing their way into his hair as you force a bit of a smile “I just.. I hate when we argue like that..” your voice breaks causing Ben to swallow. Oh no. There’s that lump in his throat. His hands rub at your back before feeling his way towards your lower half, squeezing gently. “I know babe. Don’t listen to me when I get like that yeah?” You give a gentle smile as he softly lifts you up, bringing you closer as he grabs his controller, getting ready to play his game and have you relax against him. Occasionally he’ll presses kisses to your forehead. He doesn’t like to talk about the arguments, maybe because he doesn’t know how to handle his emotions and yours at the same time or maybe he’s just scared it’ll lead to another argument, but he apologized like he always does and makes sure your comfy against him while he games. As long as you’re content with it, he’s content.

-Masky/ Tim Wright

- a bit like Jeff I just think he’s a bit more mellow, he won’t ever apologize unless he knows he’s actually in the wrong. Which ends up being majority of the time. You know he has his episodes, where he blacks out and doesn’t remember a lot of the things he ends up doing.

- he will sometimes black out during an argument. It’s not often but when he does it’s like arguing with a brick wall. Like Jeff he won’t listen. He refuses to listen to anything you say because In the moment he’s the one who’s right. But he’ll never go as far to say mean things like Jeff does. No Tim tends to stop himself before he does.

-he storms off frequently. I think he more or so hates the emotions that comes with this. He hates the yelling, the way you look at him with disbelief and anger.. Its more so he doesn’t feel like fucking shit up for being an asshole to someone who genuinely cares about him. So he leaves you to your emotions to figure out, and if they aren’t figured out by the time he gets back he tries his best to help. Even if he does seem annoyed.

- typically your arguments are more him being snarky, sarcastic and being too logical, he can raise his voice from time to time but he’s only ever yelled at you once, and he still beats him self up for it to this day. Seeing you cry at how angry he got, how you still reached out for him in your meltdown caused by him.. and you still reached for him.

ೃ࿔*:･

“They’re pills y/n, prescription pills. I’ll be fine you know I need to take them. Why do I need to keep telling you thi-“ you cut him off quickly your voice already laced with concern as it shook. “Because you take more then you should be taking Tim. I don’t like it I don’t want you to hurt yourself..” he understood where you came from yes but what you needed to do was stop it. Just stop worrying about him. “Please for the love of god, I’m fine! I’m fucking fine! I’ll be fine! Please just stop it. I hate how much you worry and stress yourself over me. They’re fucking pills, I take them when needed. So just stop!” Now he didn’t scream super loud, but it was loud enough for you to feel the lumpy tingly feeling in your throat bubble, your hands softly twisting together “s-sorry..” you squeaked out. Tears brimmed your eyes as your bottom lip quivered. He watched you carefully for a moment, grimacing a bit as he watched your face twist with sadness.. and you slowly making your way towards him. Tim opens his arms and quietly pulls you in, one hand rubbing at the back of your head and the other gripping your back. “I’m an asshole. I know you’re just worried.” He mumbled quietly, lips pressed to your forehead as you hide your face in his chest. “You’re okay..” he continues to mumble, awkwardly trying to find a way to comfort you further.

Hoodie/ Brian Thomas

-he’s quiet. Very quiet. I think he’s the most gentle when it comes to arguments with his S/O. He’s scared to hurt you, always in any circumstances. He’s more observant, he knows when the argument gets too much for you just by a single movement.

-though he does have his moments where he does get angry back, he can normally control his temper. Usually the argument starts by something he’s done so he can handle it, he can deal with it. He tells you “I promise I’ll change, just give me some time” and you believe him because he does change but then he falls back into his habits, leaving for weeks on end, taking too many pills, his stalker tendencies.

-the argument this time is unclear, you probably don’t even remember by the Time Brian starts yelling back at you. His hair is messy from running his hands through it one too many times, he’s clenching his fists and trying to breathe as he shakily keeps his voice down.

-even in moments like this he still thinks of you. Not wanting to hurt you nor scare you.. he just lets you have your outburst and then you both move on. But tonight was different.

-he tends to ignore you when he gets worked up in an argument. If he’s not yelling back then majority of the time he’s just silent. His back towards you. But only when he’s angry right back at you. He’ll give you that silent treatment for hours.

-but this time. He made you cry. And he’s stopped dead in his tracks, eyes softening, getting down on his knees and resting his head against your stomach,his hands holding onto your waist. Sigh… he just had to fuck shit up again didn’t he.

ೃ࿔*:･

“Brian you can’t just leave me for weeks on end.. you can’t just.. disappear then show up like nothings happened. Where do you go..? Is there someone else” at this point he’s just been listening to you, letting you vent out but when you suddenly accuse him of cheating on you.. he snaps. You really think HE would cheat on you?! It’s not like he didn’t spend months watching you, becoming so infatuated with you to the point that it would make anybody so fucking sick to their stomach. But he couldn’t tell you that he couldn’t tell you he’s loved you far longer. So he stands, looks at you with anger in his eyes, a hint of sadness flashing on his face “don’t fucking accuse me of cheating on you.” He points a shaky finger in your face “don’t you ever. You don’t understand the shit I’d do for you, the shit I DO for you.” He’s close now, watching as you look up at him shakily. “This S-still doesn’t explain where you go Brian.. you-“ he’s grabbing your wrist and pulling you close “no listen to me. I want to tell you I want to tell you so badly but I can’t. I can’t. I just can’t.” His eyes are averting he’s becoming shaky himself, he’s panicking. Trust him. Is what he wants to tell you, that It’ll all be okay, he’ll be okay in a couple of days, he’ll change just give him time.. but he can’t lie to you.. not now. It would only make shit worse for you in this moment. When he finally looks back at you he sees you staring up at him, not a word spoken but tears streaming down your face, and your wrists still held tight in his large hands. “I..” he softly brings your hand down, lowering himself to the ground as he watches you still stare straight ahead. He scared you. Brian goes silent and lets himself sit on his knees, his hands running up under your shirt to hold onto your waist and burying his head into your stomach. “I’m sorry” he whispered gently, shivering when he feels your hands curl into his hair and finally look down at him. You know he feels guilty. He’s only trying to protect you.

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kirbyskisses · 10 months

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a thing i wrote in @14thcommander’s dms. no warnings; fem!reader + fluff. i’m in love with the emo boy/cutesy girl aesthetic.

i am once again thinking of childhood friends to lovers with megumi fushiguro

you’re a pudgy little thing at your kindergarten where everyone else is ignoring the spiky black haired boy sitting by himself on the bench with an uncaring expression.

your interest is piqued as he’s picked up by a lanky, white-haired man who carries a goofier, more youthful energy than any of the other parents.

you bravely trot up, little pastel boots splashing in the rain at the odd duo and call.

“hey wait! uhm… what was your name! fu…fushi-?” you try to remember his name from roll call and his dark eyes widen at your approach momentarily before drooping again.

“i’m fushiguro.”

“fu-shi-gu-ro, right!” you laugh, a bright gentle sound despite the gray day. “i like your doggy, fushiguro!”

that causes him and his guardian to pause, the white haired man crouching to you, incredibly blue eyes peering amicably over pitch black glasses.

“well now… you can see it huh? you’ve certainly got a lot of cursed energy for a kid so small. you know, you’re very special to see those?” he smiles and you grin back.

“yeah! i can see ‘im!” your bright eyes turn back to megumi, delighted. “can i pet him them?? pretty please!!”

megumi looks to gojo’s approving grin, then to you with a soft nod as your tiny form pats the white devil dog’s snout, a mess of giggles at its curious nose and teeth.

and then “fushiguro” becomes “megumin” and then “min-chan.”

min-chan who you have play dates with that evolve into study dates and training where he can never bring himself to actually lay a hit on you.

min-chan who frowns when you go home from school early with a cold, but blushes a subtle pink when he walks into his house and sees you getting your hair braided by his sister.

min-chan whose cheeks dust a light pink at the bright, ever-excited warmth of your smile as you explain - “your house was closer, so tsumiki-nee said to stay here rather than walk home sick!”

min-chan who’s a bit more of a hormonal tween now. his blush darkens when he sees you wearing his extra shirt to sleep in and hears you using his shower.

min-chan who finds out you’re being mocked or bullied for your interests in middle school and comes to you with bloodied knuckles as he walks you to the train station. he always walks you, every day.

“it’s not my blood.” he looks at the red staining his hands. “don’t look so worried. next time they bother you, just tell me…”

min-chan who is devoted to cheering you up.

min-chan who listens you talk about whatever manga boy it is your simping over or whatever new album you’ve torrented onto your ipod. he only gives soft nods and the occasional smile but you know he’s listening diligently.

and min-chan who bites his lips and mutters “it’s not a big deal” anytime you congratulate him on taming a new shadow curse.

min-chan who mumbles “hold on tight,” red in the face when you wrap around him to ride nue for the first time.

min-chan who hides that his new phone has you – cradling one of his smaller shadow frogs – as his wallpaper.

min-chan who frowns his gojo perpetually pokes his cheek - teasing that his “girlfriend” really is getting stronger and he needs to catch up if he wants to keep the “tough emo boyfie” act up.

min-chan whose eyes widen when you call him “megumi” - thanking him for everything and handing him a box of cookies for gojo-san, the day you move away. you’re strong enough to master your family’s technique back in their home country.

so now he’s megumi.

megumi who nods tersely as your cute voice chides “don’t get into too many fights okay? and hug the puppies twice as much for me!”

megumi who doesn’t stop thinking about how your lips feel against his cheek for days.

megumi who wants to text, but his head nags that he’d only be an annoyance to your training - maybe it’s better he just leaves you alone. besides, curses are getting stronger and tsumiki has fallen ill - he has enough to worry about.

megumi fushiguro, high school student, who bites the inside of his cheek in annoyance as gojo drags him, nobara and itadori along to pick up the last first year of the bunch.

fushiguro who rolls his eyes as the two question what the new addition will be like.

and his breath hitches, seeing a form in a familiar blue uniform. a form dripping in a controlled yet powerful cursed aura, down the street.

with cute cartoon dog pins and a handful of shojo manga, the teen rushes up and calls out. the voice is deeper given the passing years but no less exuberant and familiar.

“gojo-san!! over here!!”

megumi, who feels like a kid again, flushed cheeks and surprised eyes as gojo swings you around with a laugh and you attentively compliment nobara’s lipstick and listen to itadori’s ever-goofy introduction.

“i’m into girls like jennifer lawrence.” he says with not an ounce of shame, megumi still reeling at hearing you say your name with the same friendly laugh you did all those years ago.

“… and i’m into guys like — min-chan!!”

your eyes land on him and the rest of you soon follows, swallowing his taller form whole in a tight hug that knocks him to the sidewalk.

you don’t pay a single iota of attention to the onlookers or to the surprised expressions on each of your classmates instead just letting them watch as you cup his cheeks and squeal.

“it’s been sooooo long! you got bigger - did the puppies get bigger too?! got any new animals? gojo-san got a new blindfold isn’t it cool? hey, how come you didn’t call me or tell me tsumiki-nee is sick - i would have come sooner to help! did you hear i might become a first grade sorcerer this year? how come you never called or wrote?! you’re so rude… but i forgive because i missed you so much!! doesn’t my uniform look cute?!”

you spit out in rapid succession, pinching his cheeks.

megumi who doesn’t have time nor evidence to deny it this time when gojo calls you his “girlfriend” in front of an utterly shocked yuuji and nobara. who only takes a deep, shaky breath to regain his normal deadpan expression.

his other two classmates’ jaws drop farther when he replies without a hitch.

“i’m 175 centimeters now. yes the dogs are bigger. i have rabbits, a serpent and an elephant now. his new blindfold is fine but it makes him no less annoying. i didn’t want to bother you, i’m proud of you for you raise in grade…” he pauses and only then looks away with another deep breath, red on his cheeks.

“thank you for forgiving me…i missed you too…and you do look very cute in your uniform.”

because he’s megumi - the one who acts disinterested to everyone but as always hears every word you say.

megumi, your childhood friend, who doesn’t so much as blink, expression bored at yuuji and nobara’s horrified surprise or gojo’s teasing grin.

he just keeps holding you, sat there on the sidewalk as you nuzzle your cheeks to his like an overly-affectionate kitten happy to have your “min-chan” back. <3

#megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk x reader #x black!reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fluff #x reader #what you won’t queue for love❤️

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sunflowersteves · 1 year

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another day, another dollar || b.b.

pairing || bradley “rooster” bradshaw x reader

summary || Is Rooster jealous that some random aviator won't stop looking at you? Definitely not.

author’s note || i'm so glad you guys enjoyed my last rooster fic!! i have so many ideas for rooster and i hope you guys enjoy this one! <3

warnings || jealousy, misogyny (not from rooster), fem!reader, some mention of violence, smut, oral sex, blowjob, praise kink, a little sub!bradley, [18+ only]

“Getting pretty busy, huh?”

You turned your head around to the unfamiliar voice. You almost raised an eyebrow—he looked smug. “Yep.” You replied, short and sweet.

You gave him a strained smile in hopes to keep up some customer service facade. You whirled back around to continue to pull the tap and fill up more beers.

He decided to talk to you again. “Think you can handle all this by yourself?”

At the Hard Deck on a buzzing Friday night, you were the only one tending to the bar. Ever since dusk peaked at seven-thirty in the evening, you had been busy refilling beers and taking orders—then occasionally ringing the bell when someone couldn’t pay their tab.

Penny asked you for a favor when Amelia came home from school with a really bad case of the flu. You knew she felt bad enough leaving you alone on the busiest night of the weekend, but you didn’t mind. Not one bit. You had wished Amelia a speedy recovery.

You were doing pretty well from the rush of Navy officers, lieutenants, captains, and everywhere in between asking for ales and lagers.

It had actually been somewhat fun chatting up conversations with people. Out of nowhere, though, this lanky twenty-something man stationed himself right in the front of the bar.

He had been staring at you for more than five minutes, and when you paid him no mind—since you were quite frankly busy with customers—he decided to strike up a mundane conversation. It was almost nauseating.

When you had turned your head the first time, he had his elbow resting on the bar and twirled a pint of beer in his hand. He had a fresh face and flirty twinkling eyes that almost made you gag a little. You knew exactly what he was doing, and you weren’t interested.

You could tell he was a Naval Aviator with the whole khaki color suit and hat on his head. You could also tell that by the looks of it that he’s new.

You didn’t spin back around, though, when he asked you that question. You didn’t want to give him any attention—hopefully, he will get the goddamn hint.

“Think you can handle all this by yourself?” Gross.

“I’ve been doing this for a while. I think I can handle it just fine.” You then turn to Coyote with the four beers he asked for—a genuine smile on your face. He thanked you kindly before sauntering back off to your group of friends by the pool table.

“Really? I’ve never seen you in here before.” He locked eyes with yours before trailing down your figure and admiring the curves of your hips in tight jeans—a shudder of disgust ran through your body. “I would’ve remembered someone like you.”

Yeah, he was definitely new because if he saw the six-foot-four Top Gun aviator—the top one percent of fighter pilots in the world—that was glaring daggers into him, he would have shit his pants on the spot. You were sure he would never set foot in the Hard Deck again.

You were Bradley’s, and Bradley was yours. Everyone in the vicinity of the bar knew that. You were always perched on his lap while he spread his skilled fingers across the piano. His arms were always wrapped around your waist as you destroyed Hangman in darts. You two practically couldn’t get your hands off of each other every second of the day.

No one in their right mind would disturb the pure, raw love between the two of you.

Not tonight, though. Tonight, you were forced under the confinements of the bar area, giving this newbie the perfect opportunity to try and stake his claim.

“Maybe you’re the forgetful one, kid. I’m here every weekend.” You fought the urge to smile in victory when he gave an annoyed expression as the word kid left your mouth.

═ ∘◦❦◦∘ ═

“You gonna do something, Rooster?”

His eyes never left your cute irritated face. He watched you give the guy a one-worded answer with a mundane expression. As much as he wanted to give you the kiss of a lifetime, he stood back. “No.”

With Bradley’s answer, Jake was even more amused. “No? I’m surprised. I’d figure by now you’d be trailing over to her like some lost little puppy.”

Bradley bit his cheek to keep from snapping back. He knew that Jake was just giving him shit. He knew that he was just trying to get him all riled up.

It’s what Jake does. But he couldn’t let anything get to him, or he would trail over to you like some lost puppy. Hangman was undoubtedly and stupidly right.

Jake’s eyebrows raise in surprise at the brooding silence. He expected some little quip and then a smack upside the head from Phoenix right next to him.

Damn, this must be really grinding Bradley’s gears. Jake almost felt guilty for his friend sulking in the corner of the Hard Deck.

“Don’t let Bagman get to you, Rooster. He’s just jealous that your girlfriend rejected him first.”

Phoenix grinned with a teasing smile, and Jake just grumbled to himself. At that, Bradley snorted and shook his head. He was still silent, but his demeanor had at least changed. All of the pilots smiled at Rooster’s shoulders relaxing just a smidge.

Bradley hated feeling jealous—the angry green monster that sprouted in his chest and sat home in his head was relentless in its hold on him.

His heart always throbbed in his chest, and anger bubbled through his veins when some guy or girl gave you a bashing smile and feather-light touches to your shoulder.

He always stayed silent—brooding—as he watched you from afar. He never wanted you to feel like he didn’t trust you because he did. Oh, he did. He trusts you more than anyone else in the room, and he flies life or death with some of them. He would follow you to the ends of the earth if you had asked him to.

He figured it is most likely some unresolved tension from the tragedies that have struck during his thirty-five years of life, and anyone that wanted to take you away from him burned a hole in his chest.

So, to combat these ingrained feelings, he sat idly by as that guy’s hips were attached to the bar and watched you dodge every single flirtatious glance and awkward pick-up line. He knew you could handle yourself, and there was a whole gaggle of naval aviators that would stop at nothing to make sure you were doing okay.

“Need another beer?” A peace offering. Jake was already standing up from the bar stool and about to make his way over to you.

He nodded solemnly. “Thanks, Bagman.”

═ ∘◦❦◦∘ ═

You looked bored. You looked so absolutely uninterested in this guy still speaking to you, and now, he was over-explaining how F-18 engines work and fly. You were a mechanical engineer. You knew how plane engines work.

You tried to tell him you did, but he was quick to interrupt to continue telling you about how F-18s have more than one-hundred thousand horsepower.

If you didn’t respect Penny’s establishment and reputation, he would’ve been thrown out of the bar by now. Typical men with their typical egos. Though now that you think about it, you’re sure Penny would have encouraged it.

Your eyes locked with Jake’s, and your eyes lit up at the familiar face. Finally, someone you actually enjoy talking to. Not that you would ever tell Jake that.

“Need savin’ over here, hot shot?” Jake had interrupted the aviator and ignored the very irritated look that was sent his way. It was almost like the guy was insinuating that he had caught you—that you were going to be his tonight. The feeling of possession he exuded made you want to gag again.

Jake could tell you wanted this shift to be over as soon as possible. Your eyes glanced at the random man staring at you before turning your attention back onto Hangman. “Nothing I can’t handle. How many beers?”

“Two, please.” Jake smiled—cocky little shit. “I think you should go talk to your boyfriend over there. He’s been stewin’ for quite a while.” He paused, eyes sliding over to the stranger. “I could even help ya with the bar.”

You turn around to fill up the empty glasses that he handed to you. “Don’t I know it, Bagman.” It was like the aviator that had been hitting on you all night had disappeared—though, you wish. Just you making drinks while your friends entertained you. It was nice for a moment, actually. “I’m due for a break soon enough.”

Jake spoke too soon, though, because Bradley was already making his way over to the bar. He couldn’t help himself when he saw the guy stare straight at your ass and bite his lip. The action made his blood seethe with vexation, so his feet started walking before his brain caught up.

“Boyfriend?” The guy looks shocked. His eyes were wide as he stared at you. “What the fuck? I’ve been trying all night, and you didn’t say a fucking thing?”

You pursed your lips. Irritated. “I did.”

“Huh?”

Rooster stood tall near the bar, watching the scene before him. He studied the menacing glare you struck at the guy and a hand resting on your hip.

“I told you multiple times when you were talking about damn plane engines that I have a boyfriend—who’s a naval aviator by the way. I’ve made it crystal clear.”

He didn’t miss a beat. The stranger’s eyebrows were furrowed in rage. He stood up from the bar in an irate stance. “You’re a fucking bitch. Do you go around eye-fucking all the guy's then?” His eyes move over to Jake’s.

“You allow your slut to do this, man?”

You, Jake, and Bradley all froze. The whole bar dulls out into silence from his loud gestures, and all eyes are on you four now.

The audacity of this kid to insult and degrade you when all you were doing was listening to this guy talk and talk. You gave clear signs of being uninterested. Clear. Not to mention he also had the sheer audacity to make a scene in Jake and Bradley’s presence.

“The fuck did you just say?” You were almost in his face as you leaned over the bar—a hard glare set on him with your fueled anger. The grip you had on the bar counter was starting to ache, but you didn’t care.

“Tame your fucking girl, would you?” Jake’s hands clenched by his side at the comment.

Bradley’s chest heaved up and down, and he could feel the burning emotion consume his entire body and soul. His hands were almost trembling by his side as his thoughts of tearing this asshole to shreds simmered inside his head.

The guy scoffed. He tried to turn around to leave but was met with Bradley’s hard chest. Clearly, he had no idea what was coming.

Bradley was sweet—a kind, gentle soul. He has picked you up from your lowest and drew you back up. He has told you things about himself that not even he understands. Bradley Bradshaw was a good man—one of the best, you would even argue.

However, he had a temper. Call it the jet fuel that was practically injected into his veins, but when that temper was pushed to the brim because someone fucked with you? Yeah, they should hope to be six feet under before Bradley could get to them.

Bradley towered over him, almost making the guy tower down. He was seeing red—fully unsaturated rage at the disrespect toward you. The guy tried to regain some confidence, oddly enough. “Move out of my way.”

Bradley didn’t move—he didn’t even blink. His jaw clenched and unclenched. His eyes bore into the stranger to assess him. His hand twitched at his side as if it was gearing up to make a move.

“Apologize. Now.” His voice was deep—it was gruff and hollow that immediately went straight to your chest. He didn’t look like the Bradley you knew, the Bradley that would carry you for three miles from a sprained ankle.

This Bradley looked menacing. This Bradley looked deadly. And you weren’t going to lie, it was hot as fuck.

“Who the fuck are you?”

Bradley’s eyes flashed with something you were unfamiliar with. He has been jealous before, yes, but it has mostly been the reassuring kind. This was pure seething rage. His eyes were almost red from the amount of anger that pulsated through his body.

“Apologize.” Bradley breathes out, but his eyes are digging into the man in front of him. “Or I will rip your fucking kneecaps off.”

Jake stood tall—back stretched out as he watched the interaction. He would spot for Bradley any day, especially to assholes like this random guy. He wanted to be ready for anything that could come Bradley’s way.

The guy opened his mouth but quickly snapped it shut as Bradley took a step closer if it was even possible. He almost dared him too—almost wanted him to so Bradley could get in some punches that this guy deserved.

“I-I-I’m sorry.” The guy tried to take a step back but was met with the bar counter. “I didn’t mean—”

“Not me.” Rooster pointed directly at you. “Her.”

He spins around faster toward you than you had seen a person spin in your life. “I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He looks up to your boyfriend for approval, but Bradley’s eyes locked with yours. You nodded as a signal to your boyfriend that you were okay—things were okay. All you wanted was for this guy to leave and Bradley to be by your side again. It’s all you could think about.

Bradley’s eyes retreated back to the stranger, and you could have sworn that the guy almost flinched. “If I ever see you in here again, I will not hesitate. Do you understand?”

The aviator nods vigorously and tries to ignore the deadly glare from Bradley. His hands picked at his sides in nervousness. “Do you understand?” Bradley repeats.

The aviator’s eyes widened. “Y-Yes. I understand.”

Bradley’s posture somewhat succeeds back into a relaxed form, his eyes already returning back to you in comfort and warmth. Every tipsy person located in the bar had shouted in celebration for kicking out the guy that ruined all the fun. Coyote and Fanboy unkindly escorted him out of the bar and threw him out onto the sandy beach. “Don’t fucking come here again.”

In the bar, everything and everyone had gone back to normal. People started laughing and smiling once more—shoveling more drinks into their mouths. Some even started racking the balls on the pool table and throwing darts.

For you, though, you couldn’t take your eyes off of Bradley.

He was on you in less than a second, taking two full strides around the bar in desperation. His hands gripped your hips harshly and his lips collided against your own. Your back bumps into the bar, which causes the bottles of booze to rattle against the glass.

His tongue is shoved into your mouth, and he groans deeply at the taste of beer. His nose harshly bumps against your cheek—messy and harsh with every swallow and molding of your mouth.

You almost whined into him. “Bradley.” Your breath fanned up against his cheeks, and his knees felt so fucking weak for you.

His body starts to sloppily drag you away from the bar and into the back corner of the Hard Deck. His lips never once left yours in a fury to feel you—to be inside of you at any and all cost. His hands make their way down the back of your thighs, and you instinctively jump. Your legs wrap around his torso as he continues to walk backward.

Jake rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure. Go fuck like bunnies. I’ll man the bar, I guess.” But there was a hint of a small smile on his face. Finally, you two could cut the shit and fawn over each other once again.

═ ∘◦❦◦∘ ═

Bradley pulls you into the supply closet near the break room at the back of the bar. His back hits one of the shelves, and you could hear the sound of cleaning bottles falling onto the floor.

Neither of you could stop your fluttering hands that followed each other’s curves. Bradley’s lips trailed down your jaw and neck, which left you breathless and aching for more. Your body feels hot—and elated—from his calloused fingers digging into the flesh on your stomach.

“Bradley, please.” He thinks he knows what you are begging for. He wants to taste you on his tongue. He wants you creaming into his mouth until you’re so dumb that you don’t even remember your own name.

To his chagrin, though, you stop the trailing hand that is trying to make its way between your thighs. “I wanna taste you, Bradley. I wanna swallow your cum.”

His eyes widened. “Fuckin’ hell—” Bradley breathes out, fast and light. He watches you sink down onto your knees and clumsily drag his shorts to pool around his ankles.

You weren’t very graceful from your pure desperation to have his cock in your mouth. Bradley didn’t mind, though.

His cock jumped from the sight and thought of you in such a state of yearning. “Pretty baby.” He whispered, but it sounded more like a whine.

Your lips trailed kisses around his thighs. “Do you know how hot it was to see you almost lose your shit on that guy?” Your words slurred together from the intoxication of his broad muscles and lips that were sucked in between his teeth.

You pull down his boxers and almost drool from his ruddy tip dripping in pre-cum. You lightly graze your fingers across his shaft and your mouth waters from his shaft twitching. Your eyes flickered up to see his reaction, his hooded eyes watching you pump his cock.

“You had been watchin’ me all night, Roo. I could feel it.”

He licked his lips. “He-He—” He moans your name. “F-Fuck. He-He can’t take you. I–” God, you’re so hot from your lust-filled eyes racking over his hopelessly hard cock. He withers in your grasp, and he couldn't help but say your name over again.

“Oh, Roo, no. He can’t take me, hmm?” You hum out the last part of the sentence so your mouth can gravitate to the bulging vein on the side of his cock. “I’m fucking yours, Roo. I’m yours.”

You swirl your tongue and suck your lips around his tip. His hands latch themselves into your hair, and he tugs and tugs. How is he already so close to the edge?

You’re barely touching him, but he feels like he’s on cloud nine, and the knot in his stomach twists and pulls.

“F-Fuck, pretty baby, yeah. You’re mine. You’re mine.” He repeats the saying as his hips involuntarily hump your mouth. You gag around him and his cock shoves further deep into your throat.

You want to guide him to a sweet release for being such a good partner to you. He is yours. He is your Bradley.

“Oh, fuck–fuck baby, please. My fuckin’ girl—yeah, yeah, yeah.”

He lowly groans out—deep, guttural, and sultry—while his cum paints the inside of your mouth. Thick ropes shoot into your mouth, and the salty taste made you salivate even more. Your eyes watch his hung-open jaw and his eyes trailing down to watch you suck around his cock.

You swallow all that he has to offer, and you moan out his name while still stuffed with his cock. His eyes widened slightly at the action, and his heart swirled in his chest. How did he get so lucky with you?

You go to stand up and pull his pants back up, but he catches your hands.

“Oh, pretty baby, you aren’t leaving me so soon, are you?” His palm rests below the back of your neck and pulls you into him. His breath fans up against your cheeks, and he presses sweet kisses on your jaw, working his way up to your temple.

“Roo, if you don’t fuck me right this minute—”

He chuckled. “Don’t worry, pretty baby, we’re jus’ getting started.”

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw smut #smut #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x y/n #rooster smut #top gun #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun smut #top gun maverick smut

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lolahasmoxie · 5 months

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Gingerbread House (E.M.)

WARNINGS: disgusting established relationship. (slaps fanfiction) this baby holds so much casual intimacy! also, there are a couple of really bad Christmas-themed sex puns. MDNI

P.S. It's Christmas; where's my tall, lanky, metalhead boyfriend?

The snow is falling softly outside your apartment.

You spent the first part of the evening walking around your neighborhood to see Christmas lights. Eddie held your mitten-covered hand while you sipped on your hot chocolate, and you only headed back home when the snowflakes started coming down in droves.

Now you were inside, TV playing something forgotten while you and Eddie tried assembling the store-brought gingerbread house kit you had purchased the day before. You had constructed the house before you left, and now that it was ready, you had begun decorating.

"Are you really going to write "Metallica Rules" across the roof."

"What, are you afraid the gingerbread neighbors will clutch their pearls?" You can't help but chuckle as you place gumdrops around the house.

Eddie was a menace while you finished up the house. Smacking your ass when you walked by, wiping frosting down your cheek, and then licking it off your face. Teasing glances that let you know that this whole ordeal was just one long foreplay session for him. It was one of your favorite things about Eddie; he never shied away from showing you how much he loved you.

"There, Chateau Munson is complete!" Eddie walked over to you and threw his arm around your shoulder while you both took in your creation. It was a little sloppy and weird, but it perfectly represented you.

"Looks good." you counter as Eddie leans over and kisses your hairline.

"So," Eddie began. "I'm still a little bit cold from earlier. Why don't we lock up, and then you take me to bed and warm me up?" Eddie has pulled you to him, arms around your waist as you place your hands on his shoulders.

"Still cold, huh? I don't know, I'm pretty tired."

"Please, sweet girl," Eddie coos as he leans down to press his lips against the shell of your ear. Your breath hitches when his hands wander down and firmly grab your ass. "it's so cold; take pity and warm up your man.”

"Mmm, wouldn't want my baby to get frostbite." Eddie groans as he pushes his pelvis into you, and you can feel just how much he wants you.

"Warm me up, pleeeeeeeease." He whines. You can't help but giggle as Eddie kisses up the column of your neck.

"You make a convincing case," you jest as you feel him lead you to your bedroom. "I'll start warming you up by letting you play with my sugar plums."

"Oh, keep up that naughty talk, Princess, and your pussy is going to end up more glazed than our gingerbread house."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you

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www-tanjiros-soft-dom · 8 months

Text

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆.

[18+] Bertholdt Hoover x GN Reader

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒: N/SFW content, sub Bertholdt, dom reader, handjob, drooling, slight choking, reader’s lowkey pervy, pet names, praises, kind of overstim if you squint, y’all suck at studying, unestablished relationship, Bertholdt is into post-hardcore/punk cuz… fuck you, that’s why.

｡𖦹°‧ 𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. 𝐁𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃.

So, Bertholdt. Breathe if you agree.

He’s always wearing some sort of collared shirt — be it a button-up or a polo — paired with a nice pair of slacks. Sometimes, he’ll even throw a nice looking sweater over it, and my, does he look so dapper. Such a handsome man walking around campus, from his perfectly combed hair to his leather dress shoes.

But, he doesn’t always dress up like that. And you found that out after showing up at his dorm for your scheduled weekend study session. When he opened the door, he was not wearing a collared shirt; instead, his torso was clad in a black American Idiot shirt (huh, you didn’t know he was into Greenday), surprisingly baggy for someone his stature, but you had to remind yourself that Bertholdt was just as lanky as he was tall, so finding shirts that fit must be an absolute nightmare for him. Grey sweatpants replaced his usual nice slacks, and holy shit, stop staring at his crotch, (Y/N)!!

Confusion overtook his features (for a second, you were afraid he caught you ogling at how nicely his sweatpants emphasized his package), and he asked if you needed something. Now it was your turn to be confused; did he forget about your study session? It was revealed that, yes, he did forget about your study session, and watching his eyes widen and his ears turn pink was… something else.

“Ah, shi… um… sorry, (Y/N),” he meekly mumbled (wait a minute, did he almost just swear??). “I forgot what day it is…”

You were quick to reassure him that it was okay, and if he was busy with something else, you could totally come back later, or reschedule your session for another day. But he rapidly shook his head and started to reassure you, inviting you in so you could start. This would actually be your first time in his room, so you took the time to admire every inch of it. It was fairly neat, save for the unmade bed, and it seemed as though everything had their place. Button ups ranging from white to navy blue were neatly hung up on clothing hangers. Books were neatly propped up on one side of his desk while notebooks were methodically stacked onto each other on the other. Not too much decoration made it on his walls, but you did take note of the Polaroid picture of him, Reiner, and Annie, along with the Coheed and Cambria poster adjacent to his door (since when did Bertholdt like post-hardcore—?).

“Sorry about the mess. If I didn’t forget, I would’ve cleaned up a bit.”

You wanted to let out a humored scoff; what mess? As far as you could tell, this was the cleanest dorm room you’ve ever seen a college student live in. After telling him that you didn’t mind, the study session commenced, and you couldn’t help but find yourself… distracted. At first, it started rather innocent; just wondering how you never knew Bertholdt’s music tastes, despite knowing each other for quite some time. Then he started saying something to grab your attention, which made you begin to study his face (instead of, you know, studying for your upcoming exam). Huh… did Bertholdt always have such pretty, pale green eyes? You thought they were more of a grey, but now that you took the time to actually look at them, you realized there was a hint of sage in his iris. They really complimented his chestnut hair… that you just now noticed was uncombed, sticking up in ways that just looked so endearing and soft… your hand twitched at the thought of reaching out and stroking it, carding your fingers all the way to the back of his bedhead and—

Woah, woah, woah. Let’s not go there.

So, pushing down those thoughts, you diligently returned to your gaze to your notes as you listened to him continue to speak. But you could only focus on his words for so long before you started to focus on his voice, and while his low notes had a roughness to them, his high notes were softer… breathy, even. It made you wonder just how high he could reach while you wrapped your hands around his—

Ayo. Quit it. You’re supposed to be studying, not thinking about your study partner in such a disgustingly gaudy way. Christ, have you no shame, you scolded yourself. Get a grip!

You managed to tune back into what Bertholdt was actually saying, just in time for him to pose a question on whether or not he should make flash cards. It sounded like a good idea, so you suggested the idea of making them on Quizlet to save time and notecards, which he agreed with, and immediately got to work on his laptop. The room fell into a comfortable silence, only the noises of clicking keys filling your ears. And, of course, your eyes had to wander from your notes to his face again, this time focusing on his lips. They were a bit chapped, yet still managed to look soft, and… oh… he just darted his tongue out to wet them. Now they were slightly glistening with his own spit. Great. How were you supposed to not think about hooking your index finger under his chin, smearing his spit by stroking his bottom lip with your thumb, huh?! What, is it wrong to feel the strong urge to press a finger down on the divot where his lip was cracked, watch as his mouth parted for you to stick your finger into the warm cavity—

I’m going to hell, you mentally groaned.

There was one final attempt to return to your studies; honestly, there was! But your attention was diverted by Bertholdt cursing underneath his breath (yes; Bertholdt Hoover. Cursing. Do you even know this man anymore?!), and your eyes just so happened to flick towards his long, extremely grab-able neck. To quel the sudden restlessness you felt in your hands, your gaze traveled down from his Adam’s apple to the exposed skin of his collar bone… which by no means did you any favors. That damn Green Day shirt was suddenly becoming the bane of your existence, because why the fuck did it have to sit on his body in such a teasing way, pooling around his waste in the valley between his pelvis and his…

And his…

…

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuCK—

“(Y/N)?”

And now every distraction comes to bite you in the ass, because of course Bertholdt’s soft voice called out to you as his green eyes were trained on your face, dark eyebrows quirked worriedly under his soft, tousled hair while his lips were stretched into a frown (god, if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was pouting at you). With his head turned to face you, you could definitively see the strain of his neck muscles, his Green Day shirt shifting to reveal more olive skin underneath… and… his…

“… U-uhm… (Y/N)…?”

Your eyes snapped back to his, but you were too entranced by them to even muster a response. Those beautiful sage green eyes… framed perfectly by long dark lashes… they were practically beckoning your hand to find purchase on one of his flushed cheeks…

It was an innocent little gesture. Just lovingly cradling the side of his face in your hand, giving him ample time for him to pull away before you actually made contact with his warm skin. Worst case scenario, he asks what you were doing, and you could make up some bullshit excuse while you die a little inside, and this whole 30 second interaction could be forgotten with time, never to be brought up again.

That’s when he leaned into your touch.

And… uh… things sort of spiraled from there.

You don’t exactly remember how you started from point A and ended up here at point B. But all that matters is that you had him sitting in the space between your thighs, back against your front, and long, muscular legs spread so far apart, you couldn’t help but be amazed. While his hands gripped onto your thighs like they were his only lifeline, yours were multitasking between exploring his toned chest and giving steady strokes to his cock. Somehow, the end of his Green Day shirt ended up caught between his teeth (did you tell him to do that? Did he do that on his own? You couldn’t remember), barely doing much to muffle his high-pitched whines that you could only describe as adorable and hot. Grey sweatpants and plaid boxers were rolled down to his mid thigh in order for you to access his painfully red dick better.

The hand on his chest found one of his pretty pink nipples, causing a shudder to wreck through Bertholdt’s body as you circled the bud with your fingers. Then, after giving it an experimental tug, something mixed between a gasp and a moan left Bertholdt’s saliva-slicked lips, his back arching forwards. “Hhnrngh—!! Mm… (Y/N),” he managed to get out with a mouth full of fabric.

“I’m here, baby,” you softly cooed, continuing to play with his hardened nub in order to elicit more delicious sounds from him. “You’re being such a sweet thing for me… such a good boy!”

His cock jumped in your hand as beads of precum dribbled down from his slit. “Mmh—!! Ahh!! G-good boy f’you, (Y/N)!! Oh— (Y/N)! (Y-Y/N)! (Y/N)—!!” With every chant of your name, his voice seemed to rise an octave. You could hear it beginning to crack around the edges, cute little sobs and hiccups mixing with heavy breaths, and— oh, Christ, was he crying? “Nrhh… w’nna b… b’guh—ahh—!!”

Your mouth found the side of his neck, teeth sinking into one of the purple splotches you previously sucked into his skin. This received a broken keen from the giant, his hips bucking up desperately into your hand, and you couldn’t stop the adoring chuckle from escaping your chest. “Oh, my baby boy, you’re already so, so good.” With a skillful flick of your wrist, Bertholdt’s mouth fell open with the prettiest moan you’ve ever heard, shirt falling from his mouth while his head fell backwards to expose more of your little bite marks and hickies that littered his throat. “Yeah, that’s it,” you soothed, trailing your hand upwards from his nipple to the base of his neck. “Just like that, baby. Let me hear you, okay?”

“Oh— oh, fuck, please!!” One of his giant hands shot up to yours. Before you could even process it, he was applying pressure to your hand and indirectly squeezing his own throat. “Fuh… fuck— pleaseplease, (Y/N)!!”

You couldn’t ignore the way your heart jumped in your chest. Was he actually begging for you to choke him? No, he couldn’t be… that’s too good to be true… unless? “Hm? You like this?”

After applying the slightest pressure — just enough so he would know what you meant, but not enough to freak him out — a chorus of, “pl-please! Pleasepleaseplease—” fell from his lips. You slowly being to squeeze tighter and tighter until he let out a choked noise, followed by his breathless, “thah.. thank… thanky’h!! Hng!!”

With a high pitched cry as your only warning, his leaking cock spurt out white ropes, coating your hand and his torso in his hot release. Tiny sobs poured from his lips as you continued to stroke him through his sudden orgasm. You didn’t stop until he had to pathetically paw at your hand and gasp out, “hah… s’too much!! Too much!! Please!!” So, almost reluctantly, you released his cock from your grasp, his body slumping into yours as soon as you did. His tired pants filled the room, and you started to worry that you went a bit overboard.

“Hey,” you whispered, kissing the tip of his ear and reveling in the way he shivered. “How do you feel?”

“Hn… ‘mazing,” was his soft reply. Your sturdy grip was long gone from his neck (since y’know, it be a shame if you accidentally murdered him while jerking him off), which allowed you to see the bruises you left behind. Whoops. Hopefully, his shirt collars go high enough to hide that.

Getting him to lay down on the bed, you could finally admire the fruits of your labor. Drool dribbled down his chin, mingling with the tears of pleasure that leaked from his hooded and unfocused eyes. His face was a beautiful shade of red as sweat caused his hair to stick to his forehead. And… yikes… you should probably offer to wash his shirt for him, shouldn’t you? Tugging at its hem, you managed to slip it off of his body (with his help, of course. Even while totally fucked out, Bertholdt is a good boy), and then use its sleeve to wipe his face of sweat, drool, and tears before throwing it onto the floor. You could deal with that later; right now, a soft cuddle session was in order.

So, yeah. Moral of the story, you learned that Bertholdt doesn’t always dress up… among other things.

#n/sfw #bertholdt hoover x reader #sub bertholdt hoover #dom reader #aot smut #bertholdt hoover smut #vlad smutula

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missmeinyourbones · 9 months

Note

for your midnights event could you “to hide that would be so dishonest” with armin?

TO HIDE THAT WOULD BE SO DISHONEST (a. arlert)

a/n: DRUNK ARMIN DRUNK ARMIN PATHETIC DRUNK ARMIN! secret relationship, loser core, non canon au

L’s MIDNIGHTS EVENT!

Armin isn't stupid—in fact, he's borderline brilliant. So you're forced to blame it on the alcohol when he's playing dumb and you're finally able to slip away from the stifling crowd, pulling him into a private room of the messy house party to finally breathe.

As if it’s his own (it’s not), he plops on the bed with ease, empty eyes gazing up at you to see why he's been dragged away from the fun.

Your glare says it all and still, Armin actively chooses to feign innocence as he shakes his head and asks.

"What?"

"..."

"Come on, please don't look at me like that."

"..."

"I'm... sorry?"

The question mark at the end of his words is what breaks you, and with an exasperated groan, you reveal all of your cards.

"You said we'd lay low."

He sways his legs a bit as he sighs, sticking his empty hand in his pocket. He uses the other hand to bring his cup to his lips when he shrugs, "Truthfully, I kinda consider what happened 'laying low' given the circumstances."

He physically feels your gaze harden on him, something he didn't even know was possible, when you squint and hiss. "You kissing me in front of all of our friends who don't know we're dating is not 'laying low,' Armin."

You swear you see him smirk, but your boyfriend smoothly plays it off by biting his cheek and shrugging once more.

"Maybe we just have different definitions, then."

You huff and close your eyes, head slightly tilting backward to gather your ramped thoughts before you mumble.

"What happened to us waiting to tell them, huh?"

Armin rises from the stranger's bed and scratches the back of his head, "I don't know, I just—”

He struggles with his words, like a child stuttering to explain his big feelings, before he settles on a whiny, "I love you, and that's not a bad thing, right?"

You shake your head, voice getting softer, "Of course it's not."

"Well, hiding it feels wrong," he declares, crossing his arms like his opinion is solidified. "It's like—like I'm lying to everyone."

You soften, removing the half empty red solo cup from his loose grasp and placing it on the nightstand of whoever’s room your in right now.

In the dim light of the bedroom compared to the strobing reds and blues of the party, you're actually able to see Armin for one of the first times tonight. His eyes are delicate, a bit shaky as they carefully cling to your every move, like you'd single-handledly hung the stars in the sky.

And while he's pathetically drunk and in the wrong no matter the way you swing it, he's yours all the same.

"It's not lying, you're just not screaming your love for me from the rooftops," you remind him in a gentle tone, pulling his lanky arm towards you. He silently thanks you for the touch by immediately slouching his weight against you and melting onto your shoulder.

"That feels like lying to me," he mumbles against the fabric of your sweater, "and a violation of my freedom of speech."

You can't help but shake your head and smile, "You're just a little drunk and dramatic right now."

"Are you mad?"

"No," you sigh softly, fingers finding the hair by his neck as you scratch the skin gently. "It's okay, just wish we were on the same page before you stuck your tongue down my throat."

A tiny, "M'sorry," is felt against your skin.

You tug lightly on his hair, prompting him to look up at you.

"Don't be. We can talk about it more in the morning when you're disgustingly hungover, okay?"

"Okay," he immediately agrees, like a child being promised the world and then some, "love you."

"I love you too."

Armin straightens his back, taking a deep inhale and shaking out his arms a bit. You smile when you hand his drink back to him, and while he accepts it, he carefully holds it up to your mouth first. You take a sip of the sugary cocktail with god knows how much alcohol poured into it, -and it tastes sweet on your tongue—a lot like how Armin did just a few minutes ago.

"Maybe no one even noticed. I mean—did you see Connie?" Armin finds his footing, convincing you that's he's a bit more sober now.

Gently grabbing your hand and making his way to the door, he continues, "He can barely open his eyes right now, let alone form a cohesive thought."

Your nose crinkles in amusement, "Can he normally form one?"

Armin blushes and pulls you along with him, "You'd be surprised."

#L’s MIDNIGHTS EVENT!#armin x reader #armin arlert x reader #armin x you #armin arlert x you #armin fic #armin arlert fic #armin fluff #armin angst #armin arlert fluff #armin arlert angst

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nanograms · 1 year

Note

can I request the octo trio x gn reader who's a bit of a cuddle bug

Yes you may! I cant write for Jade so unfortunately so I have to leave him out. I don’t know if you asked for separate or all of them so have it all

Octo Trio (minus Jade) x GN!Reader - Cuddle Bug

——————————————————————————

Azul

Azul is a touch starved man. Despite his family, he never got affection from other people because of how he looked

So when you came into his life and ‘attacked’ him his all of this affection and cuddles, he malfunctioned real fast

“A-aha.. Angelfish, we’re in a public area.. people can see us, Dear.. H-huh? You don’t mind?? I-I see..” Flustered octopus noises

Now, don’t mistake this for Azul not wanting your cuddles or kisses.

He’s just not used to it. Give him a couple of weeks, maybe a month max and he’ll return it 10 fold.

It might take him a while before he cuddles you in his mer-form though.

——————————————————————————

“Are you sure about this..? The last thing I want is to hurt you, Pearl.”

Azul shuffled awkwardly in the Octavinelle pool. His tentacles had a mind of their own, however. It laches onto you instantly. You can feel the suction cups on your skin, and they hold on tightly. Scared to let you go. Those will surely leave a mark.

“I still can’t believe you’d want to cuddle someone like me..”

Azul muttered with a conflicted look. Soon, all of his worries washes away as you swim closer to him on your own accord to give him kisses all over his face, telling him how lucky you are to be able to see this side of him, and how much you love him.

Azul’s face bloomed to a darker shade of purple. His tentacles wrapped around you tightly as his arms cling onto you tightly. He hides his face in your chest and mutters a soft ‘I love you too’ and lets silence fill the room and you take comfort in each others arms.

——————————————————————————

Floyd

Oh boy, here we go

Floyd adore it when you squeeze him tightly. It feels as if you’re reciprocating his feelings of love!

No one has ever dared squeezed him back before, so you better keep it up or he’ll be mad and pouty for the whole day

Speaking of which, Azul uses your cuddles to help make Floyd more productive in the Monstro Lounge.

He likes it when you surprise him with your cuddles, and he likes to surprise you with his squeezes. It’s a win win situation for him!

“Shrimpy~~ you forgot to squeeze me today.. you have to make it up to me now!~~ Maybe I’ll keep you by my side for the whole day so I can squeeze you whenever I want!~~”

Floyd is a cuddler when he sleeps.

Ramshackle be damned, cause you’re sleeping in Octavinelle now with Floyd

(Grim does not like this ^)

You best believe he’ll cuddle you in your sleep, and you will too. The feeling of your arms around him makes him sleep faster

(Although every Wednesday at 1 am he wakes up for a midnight snack)

Floyd likes to put up a small fight with anyone who dares to take his shrimpy away from his ‘cuddle time’

He will also fight anyone he sees you cuddling with as well. Shrimpy’s hugs are reserved for him only!

(^he was picked a fight with Grim because of this)

((Grim is not happy))^

He nibbles and bites too if he feels like it

Which is basically everyday

Will get sad and pouty when you deny him of his daily cuddles and hugs, but you won’t deny him of his hugs, right?

You are his shrimpy, after all (:

———————————————————

“Eeeeeh? Shrimpy, where do you think you’re going?~~”

Floyd stalks behind you as you walk out of his dorm room. His heterochromatic eyes stared into your soul. His eyebrows scrunched up and a frown was plastered on his face. He hasn’t even finished changing yet!

“You haven’t given me my morning hugs and kisses yet!~~”

The eel whines as he drapes himself over your body. Long lanky arms snake up from behind as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

“Shrimpy is so mean..~ depriving me of my hugs and kisses..”

He pouts as you laugh warmly at how childish he was being. You turned around and embraced the silly eel in your arms and pressed kisses all over his face and gave him a tight squeeze. Floyd instantly brightens up, and he lets out a ‘yay!’ in response.

——————————————————————————

A.N: can you tell who I like the most lmao

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oncewhenalongtimeago · 7 months

Note

Hi hello! I saw that you were accepting requests! Can I request something related to "Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot"? I seems like our dear mc has a bit of a language barrier with Berk and I think it would be funny seeing another suitor trying to woo her with poetry in a language she barely has a grasp on

Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot pt 5

Pairing: Onesided!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader, Notactually!Fishlegs x Modern!Fem!Reader

Words: 1208

Such is the folly of a poet that, when dealing in rhymes and riddles, the innocent become victim to wordplay.

Tags: Time Travel, Reader into Movieverse, poetry, misunderstandings

“So…” You trailed off, “Ruffnut, huh?”

“What?” Fishlegs asked, clutching a stack of papers to his chest. He looked a lot like a deer in headlights, eyes impossibly wide, pupils outlined by white sclera.

You wrinkled your brow. It felt like a cliche. You almost felt bad, but it wasn’t like you were trying to listen in. You couldn’t help but to hear, especially not if he read his stuff aloud.

“O-oh,” he squeaked bashfully, “Don’t mind it, please!”

If you were going to be completely honest, you were only guessing.

“It was good,” You said. You would have been incredibly shy in his place, so you were careful to be kind.

“Really?” Fishlegs asked, eyes darting back and forth.

Of course, you had just given him quite the scare. He scrambled to bring loose, yellowed paper closer to him even as you blinked emptily to yourself.

You were by a set of wooden lunch table-esque benches in a tight clearing, created by an awkward placing of a few rows of houses. You’d been doing work round the corner, lazily pulling up a small bucket of water from one of the wells there in one of the alleys.

It was very private, probably why Fishlegs had taken so quickly to it.

“Yes.” You said.

His hands relaxed at the confirmation. And, as they did, some other thick papers slipped from his hands onto the table. You couldn’t see all of them very well, but a few of the writings were legible to you.

They read this:

Beautiful morning,

Yellow, yellow hair

Like snot

And, the next:

Raucous girl,

A slim, slender warrior,

Near the seawater

Fishlegs followed your eyes.

“I didn’t want to share those because t-the, uh, I was afraid the Snot bit would remind her of Snotlout.”

“That would be confusing,” You nodded along in agreement, trying to hide your wince, “So, what brings you out here?”

There was a long moment of silence between the two of you until he spoke.

“Reading it aloud is a part of my process. I’m, ah, trying to build up some confidence.” He uttered sheepishly.

“Why don’t you run it by me before you share it with her, then?” You asked, settling on one of the long wooden seats across from Fishlegs, folding your hands together in your lap. You dropped the small water bucket you were carrying as you did so, your arms sighing in relief. Water was surprisingly heavy.

“Are you sure?”

You nodded. It was a nice, sunny day out for once. Some poetry certainly wouldn’t hurt. In fact, you hoped it might add to the nice ambiance.

“Well, here goes,” He said, unsurely. You had to look up to see his face when he spoke. Thankfully, he didn’t block out the sun. You were facing the wrong direction for that.

As soon as possible, you shoved the small bucket of water into the back of your mind. You’d rather not have to deal with it, now or later. You wanted very badly to abandon it, hoping that if you had, by chance, forgotten it, then it might absolve you of your guilt in dropping your requested task.

“My lanky love, ” Fishlegs began. “I adore the way you jab, wrestle and prance, brawling with your kin of the same yoke, so similar. But how can I compare you to such an esque buffoon? You are more spunky, knotted and grappling. “

You wrinkled your nose in puzzlement. It turned out Fishlegs had a very loud speaking voice when he really wanted to have it.

“To wrestle- wrestling, that is-” He explained, perhaps catching onto your befuddlement. Not many people were familiar with how new you were to the language, though it wasn’t much of a secret. It was more because of a lack of care than anything else.

“Oh,” You said, as he continued on. You wondered when Fishlegs had figured it out. You two certainly hadn’t talked before then. Maybe. You did remember this one time a while ago, but it was very brief.

“What does ‘yoke’ mean?”

”-I, ah-, joined together- ‘Yoke,’ that is- And, anyways- And let me count the ways in which I love your brassy hair and torso-”

As he spoke, you brought your arms up onto the table, leaning on your elbows and letting your head slump onto your closed fist as you relaxed into your seat. It was a bit hard to understand given the difference between English and Norse in sentence structure, but you thought you got the gist of it.

“-Tis not endemic, nor appling. Wanting your ovular face fills my days, and my nights. My heart beats for you by a grotesque tempo-”

Your eyes unfocused and refocused, somewhat distracted as you picked up something from behind Fishlegs. You hoped to seem involved. You were, and you hung onto every word, doing your best to keep up, though there were a few words you hadn’t quite gotten the hang of yet. Like ‘ovular,’ ‘grotesque’ and ‘tempo.’

However, you weren’t sure if it was appropriate for you to stare at his face the whole time, or if you were supposed to look elsewhere.

It was at this point that Fishlegs began to sound nervous, glancing somewhere off to the side, out of the realm of your vision. You wondered why.

“I think of you during each turn of the seasons, led by Sumarr in the mornings and Vetr in the evenings-”

As he tapered off, you noticed the flickering of a black tail from the corner of your eye.

“Though I must venture yonder with a potted heart, please remember my intrepid words whilst we're apart…”

You wrinkled your brow at Fishlegs confusedly.

“Was that good?” Fishlegs hedged nervously, about three octaves above normal. You stared at him for a moment, before you realized you had very much forgotten to react.

You weren’t sure if it was poetry, exactly. You weren’t as well-versed in the art of it as he was, but it seemed alright.

“It was nice,” You said lowly, nodding your head. “I’m sure she’ll like it.”

Then, curiously, you turned your head, just in time to watch as Toothless strode forth to join his rider, standing behind one of the stacked rock walls along the edge of the clearing. He looked sort of grumpy. Both dragon and rider, that was. But it also looked like Hiccup was finally back in green, which was nice. You were starting to miss it, so you took that as a win.

“Oh, hey, Hiccup.” You waved, standing up and yawning. You put your hand over your mouth in an effort to cover it.

You wondered how long Hiccup had been standing there, gaping. You wondered if he was constipated, or something.

Fishlegs looked behind himself, like he was in trouble, at Hiccup who was standing behind the wall, brows furrowed, looking slightly scandalized, Toothless standing menacingly on his hind legs. Then he looked at you, and spent a while longer, eyes darting between the two.

Then, with all the force of a hurricane, you came to a startling realization.

“Oh, no- this isn’t-He wasn’t-”

“It’s not what it looks like!” Fishlegs crumpled his papers to his chest, squeaking loudly.

#how to train your dragon #httyd #x reader #fanfiction #hiccup haddock #hiccup x reader #httyd imagine #toothless #female reader #fem reader

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ttr-loviz · 1 month

Text

READER x Shinichiro!

Enemies to lovers

Forth piece

TW: some swearing and alcohol mentioned!

Just stupid fluff!!

Chp4.

The next morning, Shinichiro was waiting for her in front of the school. After a few moments later, he saw Y/n walking to school he walked up to her but just walked next to her without saying anything.

Y/n was minding her business, and then it was disturbed by the tall, dark stupid styled haired man walking right next to her, shoulder to shoulder.

Some minutes of walking, the atmosphere was silent and awkward. More than usual, it was odd for Y/n.

After a few minutes of this awkwardness, Y/n had enough of it.

"What the hell do you want now..?" She glared up at his deep black eyes before looking straight ahead.

"......" He didn't respond and just kept glancing at her. "Did something happen? I mean... to your parents or is something going on at home...?" He muttered under his breath. Y/n stops right in her tracks and quickly shot up at him with an annoyed look. "What do you mean?" She asked right after.

"Uhm... you know.. like you never go to school trips before and now your like-" Y/n cuts him off and stares right into his soul."So now I can't go to school trips anymore, huh?" She said angrily. Shinichiro backed up and put his hands inside his pocket, shrugging his shoulder "Well your not the type to go on trips... It's not like you could've anyway because of your parents."

Y/n hissed, "Dont bring up my parents into this shit, dont even mention them." She stricked up, making Shinichiro finch at her sudden tone.

"You dont have the right to say something about my parents after what you told the whole school back then!" Y/n poked at his chest. Shinichiro stumbled back a bit, before hs could say something back, she stomped off, leaving him behind speechless.

During class.

"Hey, Y/n bla..bla...bla....." H/n and Y/n were yapping with each other like every day. Ever since the argument they had that day, he didn't bother her till the school trip.

"Is everyone here? Did anyone didnt come or not? Go check if everyone is here." The teacher told the class president. "Okay!" She left off to take attendance of the students.

Shinichiro was standing their next to his friends. He looked around, trying to find if Y/n actually came or just lied to his face.

Suddenly, he got interpretated by 'pss pss look look' a smug grin on one of the guys while he opened his jacket up and revealed beers inside his pocket, announcing it with proud look. "OH- shit!" One gasped amazed before headlocking him "Thats the way to go, Takeo-" Shinichiro hushed em down as he saw y/n running toward the bus."i guess she was just late..." He muttered in his mouth with a slight smile. "Ew man, wtf is that look on your damn face.. you look even more uglier."

"Oh shut up! Look who's talking." Shinichiro rolled his eyes.

"Have you seen me?!" The short one said annoyed but with a slight grin.

The big tall one. "Put your damn bags down and get your asses moving. The bus is leaving."

Inside the bus.

The 4 bitches where fighting for the spot in the back of bus, Shinichiro was the last to go but the tall lanky one and the short one was holding up the line.

"Im sitting first you damn chain smocker!" one hissed out as they held each other by their shirt collar. "Im the first one, move it short beat!"

Then the tall bulky one stood right beside them "Move it! There are ppl trying to sit too yk?!" He shouted at them, while that was going on Shinichiro was dumb founded behind the tall bulky one "Huh? Whats going on!" Shinichiro tried to see what was the ruckus about.

After all this fuss they finally all sat in the back of the bus all cramped up together. (Because of Benkie duh)

Finally the other students could take their seats before the bus leaves.

'Psshhh...chachcko..!' The sound of a beer bottle can be heard inside the bus.

"Take that shit down before we all get suspended because of you...again." The big one warned the lanky one next to him who was opening the beer he brought.

"Its just one! Dont be such a cunt." The lanky one rolled his eyes before takes one sip. "Hey...! Didnt you see the teacher looking at us, give it!" Big guy reached to grab the bottle of beer from the lanky one.

"Nooo! I just opened it." When the lanky one leaned back his beer accidently spilled on shorty. "Oh-....." Both of em frozed right there ".....U-uhm um.. you alright?" Shinichiro said trying not to laugh at his face.

The short one stood up and wipes his face off with his hand before launching at the lanky one. "Whats with you today huh?! Weren't you satisfied enough are ya?.. well let me help you out!"

Suddenly chaos fell down on the bus.

The bulky one tried to pull away the short one from choking out the lanky guy while Shinichiro sat next to them trying to reason them to calm down.

"HEY! YOU PUNKS STOP ALL THAT RUCKUS DOWN OR I WILL TURN THIS BUS AROUND!" the teacher shouted at them.

"EVERYONE SPLIT UP AND SIT." She warned. Teacher tells them their new seats "and Shinichiro go switch with H/n during this ride."

"But miss!-..." He sighed, annoyed before switching with H/n and sitting down next to Y/n.

Shinichiro groaned and flopped down on the seat next to Y/n before turning to her "Sup" he nodded.

Tbc.....

(Forgor to upload :P Sorry!)

From: J&Y

Tags: @nixalozt

#shinichiro #shinichiro sano #shinichiro x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tr shinichiro #tokyo revengers shinichiro #tokyo revengers fluff

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manicplank · 2 months

Note

love your fucking headcanons so I'm gonna be a bit weird

what would be their reaction to fake Peppino just randomly wrapping around them?

First reactions to fake Peppino. Just like what they were thinking when they first saw the frog babygirl

(sorry you waited so long! I'm feeling icky.)

Fakey reactions

Peppino: He was absolutely HORRIFIED. A freakishly deformed clone of himself stood before him. He screamed, and so did Faker. The battle ensued. After supposedly defeating the clone, Peppino found himself racing through the secret entrance of Bruno's. He ran for his life as the demonic entity chased him. Thankfully, he escaped.

As the tower fell, the monster chased him again, but it didn't seem violent this time. Everyone escaped as the tower crumbled. Peppino was out of breath as Gustavo pat him on the back. Suddenly, he's in the air with goopy noodle arms wrapped around him. The clone made a horrifying noise of joy as Peppino froze in fear. "Aww, he loves you," Gustavo cheered.

Gustavo: He was even more scared than Peppino. Things in the tower got SUPER weird all of a sudden. It looked... somewhat like Peppino, but weirder. He hopped on Brick and got out of there as quickly as he could.

After the events of the tower, the clone lurked around the area. Peppino occasionally would run into him when taking out the trash. Therefore, Gustavo was on trash duty. One night, he went to put the bag of trash (scraps) to the can out back, but he was suddenly scooped up with weird, gelatinous arms. He screamed out at first, but then he heard a happy hum from Fakey. "Aw, hey little buddy! We got lots of leftovers in the trash tonight. Have at it!"

Mr. Stick: Being near the boss gate, he had seen this thing before. He actually thought it was Peppino at first. He went inside to cuss him out for sneaking in without paying the gate fee. He started to talk, only for the clone's head to turn around like an owl's. Needless to say, Stick ran out of there as fast as possible.

He still guarded the boss gate. As he waited for Peppino to finish the levels, he was lounging in his chair, drinking out of a coconut when suddenly, a long pair of arms grabbed him and pulled him in. "H̷̢̢̨͈͍̯̥̠͙̹͚͍͙͔̱̮̙͎̹̬̫͙̼̜͚̭̳͍̫̯͖̻̗̥͐̍́͐̓̋̌̅̅͛̒̀̇̽́͑̄̈́̀̈̔̈́͊̈́̐̈́͆̋́̎̉̑̎̌̅̔̏̓͂̃̋̕̕͜͠͠͠ͅŲ̷̢̡̯̗̟͚̫̤̭̮̮̟̝̹̪̭̼͚̻̖͔͇͇̤̤̫̱͕̰͖̲͙͙̆͊̃̑̀ͅĢ̵̡̼̳̫̫͈͉̗̗͓̮̠͓̺̝̯̞̖̦̆̓́͋̽̐̾̒̍̂͊̊͌̔͗͐̈̕͘͘͝͝͝Ş̸̜͔̳̮̭͈̫̪̠̠͂!!" Stick screamed for help as the clone embraced him with his arms wrapped around several times. He squirmed and wriggled until the Fake let go. He then ran for his life.

Pepperman: He was absolutely petrified. He thought he was dipping his brush in black paint, but it wouldn't transfer onto his brush. And then he heard a laugh. He looks over to see a tall, lanky, melty Peppino. He froze in fear. He knew it wasn't Peppino himself, and that just made things even scarier. He screamed, and that was thankfully enough to scare the creature away.

However, one day, the clone came back. Pepperman was once again frozen in place. The clone tilted his head. Pepperman started to run away just to be scooped up and hugged. He was confused. It isn't hurting him... Huh... Okay...?

The Vigilante: He was called to an abandoned pizzeria near The Pig City to investigate the disappearance of a few police. He walked over to see that the door was boarded up. He was short enough to fit underneath and squirmed into the building. He sees Peppino... Peppino?! That's his bounty!! He pulled out his gun and shot as quick as possible. The bullet pierced a hole that quickly filled back up with goop. The clone turned around and screeched, growing a big and angry. The Vigilante charged out of there as fast as possible.

Fake Peppino has tried several times to hug The Vigilante only to be dodged. Aw... Sad clone :(

The Noise: He was smoking in the slum and hiding from his responsibilities. He heard some weird slamming going on near the boss gate. He looked over and saw Mr. Stick being snatched in by long arms. Nope. Nope. Nope. He put his cigarette out and went home. Not dying, today.

He went into Noisette's Café for a coffee later in the day. A large, deformed Peppino stood at the counter. "Oh, hey babe," Noisette called out, "look at my new friend!!" The clone turned around and charged at The Noise. Noise screamed and ran, but he was quickly grabbed and hugged tightly by Fake Peppin. He squirmed and wiggled around, still yelling. Noisette whistled and threw a peanut butter spaghetti in the air. Fake Peppino went over and grabbed it with his tongue. The Noise ran out of the café and went straight home.

Noisette: Peppino walked into her café looking a little weird. She asked if he was okay, but he didn't respond. She put his coffee in front of him, and he pulled the entire cup into his mouth and swallowed it whole. She crossed her arms. "Hmmm... Are you the clone Vigi was so afraid of?" The creature nodded. "You are... ADORABLE!" She put her hands out, and Fake Peppino scooped her up and wrapped his arms around her as much as they would stretch. Immediate besties!

Pizzahead: A clone had escaped the lab without triggering the alarms in the War level. He searched all around the fifth floor and found wet footprints going down to the slum. He followed them, leading him to Bruno's Pizzeria. He walked in to see dead pigs scattered around. The door slammed shut, and his heart dropped. Oh shit... The clone crawled down from the roof. OH SHIT... Pizzahead closed his eyes tightly and embraced death. The clone came close to him with its mouth open, then sniffed him. He accepted that he was dead until he felt a weird, slimy thing touch him. The clone had licked him. Oh... Okay??? Maybe he can use the fact that he's made of pizza to his advantage.

The two ended up bonding over time. Pizzahead saw Fake Peppino as a dog. He would walk him around the tower (on a leash since he can't be trusted). Fakey would always wrap himself around Pizzahead whenever he saw him. To Fakey, being a friend with a pizza was the BEST thing in the world!!!

Pillar John: Huh... That thing that just went by looked kind of like Peppino. That's weird. Oh, well. He'd investigate more, but he's stuck in one place. Whatever.

The thing came back later on. Ew... It's kind of weird. Fake Peppino looked at John with a tilted head. "Frieeends!" He stretched his arms around John and gave him a hug. At first, John was freaked out. However, it was nice to be hugged.

Gerome: While most people would be afraid of this demonic deity, Gerome was so dead inside that he simply didn't care. The clone was drooling over him, ready to bite, but Gerome poked its uvula with the end of his mop, and the clone gagged. Fake Peppino got upset and crawled away, whining like a dog.

After the events of the tower, Fake Peppino was handing out hugs like candy on Halloween. Gerome tried running away, "NonononononONONO!!!" He wasn't fast enough, and Fakey swept him up in a big, happy hug. He was sticky and uncomfortable. Gerome hated every second of it.

#pizza tower #noise #the noise #headcanon #pizzahead #noisette #peppino #peppino spaghetti #fake peppino #pepperman #pillar john #the vigilante #mr. stick #pizza tower gerome #pizza tower gustavo

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yes-i-write-fanfiction · 4 months

Note

(Arthreena Anon)

So since I gave you some info on Athreena I wanted to share some ideas for her Sons.

All Three

•They actually prefer Optimus over their old dad, their old pa just wanted to train them to be warriors and didn't skimp on the punishment if they failed training. Optimus actually let's them have free time and doesn't discipline them too much.

•All three are total sports nuts, each one loving both a cybertronian sports and an earth sports.

•While they are mama boys, but they will hide behind Optimus when they try their mama's patience(She doesn't hit them, just her glares can terrify Megatron)

• Each of them have a southern accent but it's different version, like Salvo has a Texan accent, Zaptrap has an Alabama accent, while Shothole has Louisiana accent.

Salvo:

•He's the oldest of the three brothers, hatching from his pod a whole fifteen minutes before his brothers hatched out. Tries to be a responsible older brother but often feels his circuits short-out.

•Salvo loves a good game of Cube and while on Earth he is a huge football fan, even managing to pull in Bulkhead for football, his favorite team is Future Detroits football team the CyberLions.

•His Insect mode is an Elephant beetle, his bot mode is the same size of Bulkhead but his torso is more oval shaped like a beetles torso, his legs are a bit shorter than Bulkheads, in robot mode both of the Insect legs combine to form his arms, his hands being like Beastwars Dinobots.

•His special power is the ability to create fireballs from his horn in Insect mode and hands in bot mode.

Zaptrap

•The second youngest and the one to start most of the sibling fights just for the heck of it.

•Loves the Lobbing game his granpah Scorponok used to play with him, but he loves Earths hokey with how violent it can get. His favorite team is Red Wings, he watches it with Sari in the base.

•His Insect form is a Golden Stag Beetle, in his bot mode he has a rounder body than Salvo, he has two sets of arms like his ma, and clawed legs.

•His special ability is that he can generate electricity, enough to power Detroit for a year, but his favorite way to do it is to make literal Thunder Punches.

Shothole

•The youngest of the brothers and one of the more impulsive of the siblings, always ready to prove himself. Which makes things worse when he's friends with Bumblebee.

•His favorite cybertronian sport is Mecha-Soccer, and he was beyond ecstatic that earth had something similar. He's a fan of Detroit City FC, he roped in Bumblebee and Prowl to be fans.

•His Insect mode is a Rhinoceros Katydid, while in his bot mode he's a lanky bot with long legs and a long torso and long arms. However unlike his brothers his wings are present in his bot mode and can actually fly.

•His special ability is that he can kick so hard that he creates air bullets at the Decepticons.

They start calling Optimus 'Ops pops', jokingly at first but then it just kinda sticks. Optimus doesn't object though he does thinks it's a tad embarrassing considering that they are all way bigger than him.

Optimus has no clue about how to be a dad so he looks up a bunch of tips online, including articles on the subject, while also asking professor Sumdac for advice (he's the only father he knows). The initial results are kinda... awkward.

Optimus: "So... sports, huh?"

Salvo: "Sorry, I wasn't listening, what were you saying?"

Optimus: *sweating, gesturing at the TV* "Uhhhhh, sports?"

Salvo: "Oh! Yeah, it's really intense right now! CyberLions vs BoltHounds! The CyberLions are currently losing but I believe they can still pull through, especially considering they are on their home turf. What do you think?"

Optimus: "Uh, lions are bigger and stronger than dogs, so... probably?"

Salvo: "They sure are, pops, they sure are."

#transformers imagine #transformers animated #optimus prime #OC

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bakuliwrites · 1 year

Text

Serenity- Satoru Gojo x Reader

Rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Relationship: Satoru Gojo x Reader

Tags: JJK 0 Spoilers, Fluff, Angst, Smut, Penetrative S*x, Oral S*x, soft Gojo, past Gojo x Geto x Reader, Secret Relationship, Romance, Gender-Neutral Reader Pronouns, Mentions of Death, Romance

Summary: Gojo moves like liquid, even in this cramped space. His motions are seamless, the ebb and flow of his cursed energy mesmerizing. If you weren’t in the midst of exorcising the mimic curse right alongside him, you’d pause to watch. You can feel the voltaic thrum of his very soul with every powerful attack he makes. His wrath bursts in rays of light and his brutality is icy cold. You understand why Satoru Gojo is called The Honored One. He’s using minimal effort and still, his motions are awe-inspiring.

You and Gojo go on what is supposed to be a simple mission, but are met with more than you bargained for.

Read here in this post or over on my AO3

When Gojo asked you to accompany him into the city, you knew it wasn’t going to be a trip for pleasure. It never is. The only pleasure that will come out of it is the multitude of sweet treats he’ll inevitably purchase along the way, which you can look forward to partaking in as well. Otherwise, his request is for work and nothing more. The first time he’d asked you, you’d been over the moon. To you, it meant he trusted you at his side, as a partner, as a sorcerer. Now, it’s become a bit more like babysitting a full grown man, trying to make sure he doesn’t give himself a tummy ache from eating too many daifuku or any number of other desserts.

Today’s mission will be relatively simple: scoping out a place for the first-years to practice. There’s a relatively low level curse in an abandoned building nearby, one that would be perfect for students to exorcise.

As you walk the busy streets of Tokyo, Gojo chatters away at you, occasionally stopping to excitedly point out a creperie or an ice cream parlor. He always seems to wander in an aimless fashion, but deep-down, you know he’s got his own map going in his head. It’s carefully curated to hit his favorite sweet stores, while also leading you towards your end destination. Though, by this point in your relationship, you already know all his favorite spots. You could easily tune out, follow blindly, not bothering to observe the shifting throng of people around you. But that’s not how sorcerers do things. No, your eyes are alert behind your dark sunglasses, observing your surroundings keenly, watching out for curses. So far, so good though, so you engage in a bit of light chit-chat with the lanky sorcerer beside you.

“So, how do you think the first-years are doing?” he ventures, his tone casual and bright. He takes a bite of a crepe filled to the brim with strawberries and cream.

“I think they’re promising,” you return sincerely, watching as Gojo licks a bit of chocolate syrup off his thumb, “Fushiguro is quiet, but seems confident in his ability. Nobara is certainly talented and seems sure of herself. And Itadori is getting stronger every day.”

He nods quietly, considering your opinion. He ultimately seems to agree with you, giving you a thumbs-up, his mouth too full of pastry to verbally respond.

“Remind you of us, huh?” he returns, nudging you teasingly with his elbow. You smile wistfully, thinking back to your own years at Jujutsu High.

“Yeah, they do,” you muse, a sudden flood of memories, both good and bad, filling you almost to the brim. They’re overwhelming. You and Shoko poking fun at Geto and Gojo, training together, going on missions, lounging around on hot summer days. You generally try not to think about the past. Not because you have any animosity towards your upbringing at the high school. No, quite the opposite. Those joyful memories mark such a painful period in your life. In all the lives of those who knew and loved Suguru Geto. There’s a hollow in your heart where you keep the memories of your high school experience. Where you keep the feeling of Suguru, a powerhouse even in his noticeable absence. They’re kept warm there, alive, stimulated by the rush of your blood.

“Those were some pretty good days,” you hear Gojo distantly say. He stuffs his free hand in his pocket, gazing through his blindfold up at the clear sky above. He’s silent for a beat and it’s strange. It’s always strange when he’s quiet. For as many years as you’ve known him, Satoru Gojo has been a troublemaker. A chatterbox. Gregarious, cocky, and playful. But his moments of silence feel real to you. More real than the boisterous attitude he usually puts on.

Walking beside Gojo on the busy streets of Tokyo, you can see his quiet intensity, hidden beneath a showy bravado meant to throw others off. You, Suguru, Shoko: you’re some of the lucky few that have bore witness to Gojo’s quieter moments. These moments are marked by a static electricity, a strange and voltaic charge that hovers in the air. There’s something entirely unpredictable about Gojo, especially in his silence. It makes you nervous: not because you’re scared he’s going to hurt you or do something awful. But because you can almost feel the chilly void his sorrow rests in.

“You still enjoying teaching at Jujutsu High?” he questions after a while, discarding his empty crepe wrapper in a nearby trash can. You offer him one of your extra napkins so he can clean off his hands, which he graciously accepts, plucking it from your grasp. The tension dissipates. The lightness of your earlier conversation returns.

“I am,” you beam, proud of your profession. You came back to teach there a couple of years ago, after trying to unsuccessfully branch out on your own. You’re not new anymore, but Gojo still likes to check in with you every once in a while.

“I love getting to know the students,” you go on, pausing to let Gojo tenderly wipe off a little bit of whipped cream from the corner of your mouth, “And teaching the next generation is an honor.”

“Sure, sure. But-” he gives you another nudge and you can imagine him winking behind his blindfold, “We all know you came back because you missed me.”

“Pshh,” you return, folding your arms over your chest and rolling your eyes, “You wish, Toru.”

Entirely too proud of himself, Gojo’s cackling seems to echo through the empty alleyway you’ve suddenly found yourself in. You’ve gone from a densely populated area to an abandoned side street in a matter of moments. You can barely even hear the sounds of the city, which really isn’t all that far away. The air is stifling here, the desolation seeming to permeate the very marrow in your bones. The air feels entirely devoid of human activity, filled instead with a noxious, leaden weight. Before you can take another step, Gojo holds his arm out protectively in front of you.

“Something’s off,” he states just barely above a whisper. You can undoubtedly sense the rancid energy pulsing through the building to your left. This doesn’t feel like the low-level curse you and Gojo had initially believed it to be. This power feels- immense . Not something the two of you can’t handle, but certainly not what you were originally prepared to face. And certainly not something you’d want to send a couple of rookie first-years in to deal with. Not knowingly, at least.

You steel yourself, flashing Gojo a serious look before he silently nods and takes a step towards a rusty metal door. It screeches with age as Gojo wrenches it open. You’re met with a crushing darkness on the other side, a putrid smell immediately assaulting your nose. You can just barely make out some formless shapes scattered about an otherwise empty expanse of a warehouse. The unpleasant, sweet smell of rot weaves through the air as you take a couple cautious steps forward. Gojo is tense, alert. He’s following the trail of cursed energy radiating from whatever entity is holed up inside. It feels like it might be a semi-grade one, whatever it is.

As you trail Gojo through dark corridors piled up with refuse and barrels filled with unidentifiable liquids, you think you can hear something skittering about above you. In the silence, it feels closer than it probably is. You feel like you’re breathing too loud, walking too loud. Like your footsteps fall heavier than usual.

Just as you round a corner into a stairwell, you hear your name echo softly down the hallway you just came from. You freeze, looking back, only to see impenetrable darkness. Gojo halts right alongside you, one foot on the first step.

“Did you hear-” you start, brows knit together, trailing off when your name is called yet again.

“Shoko?” you and Gojo finish together, quietly so as not to alert whoever or whatever is clearly impersonating your childhood friend. All the hairs on your body suddenly stand on end, an overwhelming sense of dread washing over you. Gojo, less reactive, feels it, too. He gently places his hand on your shoulder, dismounting from the stairs and moving to stand beside you.

“Gojo?” Shoko’s voice tries, but this time it sounds like it’s coming from above you.

Is it throwing its voice? you wonder to yourself, not quite ready to address how this thing knows both your name and Gojo’s. Though you suppose in the world of curses and sorcerers, Gojo’s name is pretty well known. Something rumbles in the air vent just above you. Wordlessly, you and your companion acknowledge your plan of action. You’ve worked together enough times to know how the other operates, to play to one another's strengths.

“Pretty low of you to impersonate a friend of ours,” Gojo returns, his jaw set, irritation spreading. His tone is sharp, cutting. This creature is an affront to Gojo, to you. He makes it patently obvious in the harshness of his accusation, the hard set of his jaw.

“Gojoooooo,” the creature calls out again, the voice of Shoko melting into something grotesque and gravelly.

“And cowardly to not even show your face,” Gojo continues, every word out of his mouth dripping with poison. There’s a gentle laugh, an eerily familiar one.

“Gojo, you wound me,” Geto’s voice sounds. Gojo’s brows raise, taken aback by this shift in voice. But he doesn’t let it rattle him.

You ready yourself, knowing what’s coming, when suddenly, without much warning, the cover to the air vent flies off, smacking the opposite wall with a metallic pang . In a rush of foul air and many limbs, a massive curse comes clambering out of the cramped ventilation system. How it fit in there, you’re not sure. It fills the stairwell, curving upwards like a bloated snake. Its sallow skin looks slimy to the touch and it seems to gaze through eyeless hollows at you and Gojo, a toothy mouth splitting into a horrendous grin. You stand frozen, feet planted firmly to the ground, eyes wide with horror. It’s rare for you to freeze in the face of a curse. But the curse’s desecration of your most cherished friends’ voices fills you with a rage, a fear you’ve never felt before.

“You wouldn’t hurt me, would you, Gojo?” it rumbles, Geto’s voice distorting with every word.

“You’re pretty disgusting,” Gojo goes on, casually inspecting the curse from his distance and making you roll your eyes. He always manages to work in as many insults as he can before he attacks. You also know it’s a self-defense mechanism. Humor to dispel how deeply uncomfortable he is to hear Geto’s voice again, and for it to be coming from something that’s such a parody of humanity. To be honest, his casual attitude is somewhat of a comfort to you, as well.

“Probably not very smart either, huh?” he continues, snickering as he turns towards you, “Don’t you think?”

“Are you just going to stand there and roast it to death or are we actually going to exorcise it?” you shoot back, trying to re-center Gojo. Though his humor is a comfort sometimes, it’s also pretty distracting. However, before Gojo can respond with yet another quip, the curse turns its attention towards you.

“You wouldn’t hurt meeeeeeee,” it creaks.

“Don’t listen to it,” Gojo tries, a slight quiver in his voice, one you’ve never heard before. Is he worried? No time to think about that right now, you realize.

“You wouldn’t hurt meeeeeeee,” the curse repeats, and this time, you’ve had enough. And so has Gojo. He charges up, rushing the creature, with you not far behind.

Gojo moves like liquid, even in this cramped space. His motions are seamless, the ebb and flow of his cursed energy mesmerizing. If you weren’t in the midst of exorcising the mimic curse right alongside him, you’d pause to watch. You can feel the voltaic thrum of his very soul with every powerful attack he makes. His wrath bursts in rays of light and his brutality is icy cold. You understand why Satoru Gojo is called The Honored One. He’s using minimal effort and still, his motions are awe-inspiring.

In less than a second, his demeanor shifted from joking and casual to chilly and focused. It’s almost like he becomes an entirely different person in battle. No, not a different person. It’s merely that the saccharine outer layers of him slough off and he reveals who he truly is. A dark star in the center of a lacuna.

In no time, the two of you have managed to exorcise the spirit. It shrivels, withers like starved ivy in the rays of a harsh sun, before disintegrating into dust. Gojo stands proudly over its remains.

“Good job! Look at that quick work!” he praises, lifting a small corner of his blindfold to wink at you. He’s back to being Casual Gojo, beloved and enigmatic sensei who never takes anything seriously. It’s all a front, and you know this well. There is pain in Satoru, deep-seated and immense. It’s as if he sits huddled at the bottom of an endless, empty well, light just barely reaching his shivering form. His barrier is cold to the touch, icy and impenetrable. A wall of infinity surrounds him.

You stare at him blankly, unsure of why you can’t be happy at this moment. Of why you can’t rejoice alongside him. Maybe it was your earlier conversation about the first years, the flood of memories, the mimicry of familiar voices. It all swirls around in your head, foggy and confusing.

“Hey, you alright?” he ventures, hands stuffed in his pockets as he approaches you, head tilted in confusion.

“Um,” you try, voice quivering. You clear your throat, trying to steady yourself, “I think I need some air.”

You climb the stairs, heading up towards the roof of the building, both to ensure you’ve taken care of everything that needs to be taken care of (it seems there’s no cursed energy remaining from any other entities, luckily) and to search for some clean air. Not the oppressive air from the alley outside. Gojo takes the lead, his long strides carrying him up the stairs faster than you. But he’s oddly gracious today, and slows down when he realizes you’re lagging behind.

A cool breeze blasts your face as soon as you open the creaky door leading out to the rooftop. It’s much appreciated as you inhale deeply and feel the fog lift from your mind. It’s dark already, the city lights twinkling all around you. In the distance, you can hear the sound of evening traffic and human activity. It’s a relief to be reminded that not all of the world is inhabited by curses. Not all of the world is a travesty of the past.

Silently, you take a seat, dangling your feet over the edge of the flat roof. From up here, everything looks so small. You are acutely aware of Gojo plopping down beside you. You peek at him out of the corner of your eye. He removes his blindfold, wrapping it up around his left hand. His snowy lashes create shadows on his cheekbones with the light from a nearby neon sign and the thin strands of his hair blow about lazily in the wind.

“It was gross-” he begins in a low voice, staring out at the city, “-to hear his voice coming from something so grotesque. ”

He flicks his gaze over to you, cerulean eyes like pooling wells of sorrow. All you can do is nod, desperately willing yourself not to cry. You can feel the tightness in your chest, the threat of oncoming tears.

“I just felt so- so helpless, when it came to Suguru,” you explain, thinking back to when he defected, to his death, “And every reminder of him is just another jab in my psyche. Another painful reminder of how-”

Of how I failed him, you want to finish, Of how we failed him. It’s something that’s haunted you for years now. And you know it’s haunted Gojo just as much, probably more.

“I know what you mean,” he finishes for you, not needing to hear what’s going through your head to understand. He knows you so well at this point. You could probably have full conversations without any words if Gojo weren’t so much of a chatterbox.

“What’s the point of being the strongest if you can’t even protect the people that mean the most to you?” he breathes, staring out at the distant stars. You gaze up at him, his eyes searching a sky that seems to reflect back into them. Blue discs that contain the multitude of the universe.

You could sit here and list off a bunch of platitudes about how life is cruel. About how things don’t always work out how we want, despite our efforts. But what good would that do? So you just sit in silence with him, letting yourself slowly tip sideways until you’re leaning against his shoulder. He doesn’t pull away. In fact, he softens, before gently resting his head atop yours.

The burdens a sorcerer experiences in the world of Jujutsu are many. Protecting the innocent, the unaware. Maintaining order. Training the next generation, and making sure they don’t die in the process. All of these are things that you have chosen to experience. Things you’ve put upon yourself in your pursuit of a life goal. Gojo, however, is burdened by expectation, a birthright he didn’t ask for. Pre-ordained to be relied on. To surpass all those who came before him.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to make it all about me,” he chuckles, “I guess what I mean is that it’s hard not to feel responsible for someone you care about.”

“Even if it’s not your fault,” you add, looking pointedly up at him. You know he blames himself the most for what happened. You know he wishes he could turn back the clock, rectify what cannot be rectified. He makes a small, “hmph,” paired with a rueful smile.

“You’re too nice,” he returns, picking at a loose string on your pants. He’s always fidgeting with loose strings on your clothes or locks of your hair. It’s something he’s done since he was a teenager, a little habit that hasn’t seemed to change over the years. You smile to yourself, comforted by one of the few things in your life that seems stable: Gojo’s endless fidgeting.

“I don’t wanna curse anyone, Satoru,” you mumble after a long beat of silence, staring out into the empty windows in the building across from you. It looks like a decrepit office building, long abandoned. It doesn’t seem to be inhabited by curses, thank goodness, but it looks sad to you, for some reason.

“What do you mean?” he exclaims, raising up a bit to give you a showy, flabbergasted look, like he always does when he’s trying to lighten the mood if your conversations start to get heavy.

“You know what I mean,” you go on, matching his shock with a look of exasperation, wanting him to take something seriously for once. His goofy look fades, replaced with one of understanding. Gojo has his soft moments, and you’re appreciative of this.

“I know what you mean,” he comforts, wrapping his arm around you and scooting you closer. There’s little more that either of you can say to one another. Sometimes, that’s just the reality of things.

At least curse me a little at the very end, rings in your mind. But it’s in Gojo’s voice, because he recounted it to you. Because you only got there after the damage had been done. And the guilt of not being there gnaws at you everyday.

“Don’t curse me at the end,” you whisper, resting your hand on Gojo’s knee and squeezing tight, “I won’t curse you, either.”

You feel his strong grip on your shoulder, tugging you even closer, like he’s trying to press you into his body. Like he’s trying to merge the two of you.

“How about this?” he replies, pulling back so he can look you in the eye, “Promise me you won’t get into any trouble, huh?”

He laughs, his usual cheery demeanor returning, and you can’t help but smile a little. But you can hear what he really means, Don’t let me lose you, too. That’s not a promise you can keep, and he knows it. His soft smile seems to say, Just indulge me. Say you promise, even though I know you can’t.

“Promise,” you lie, trying so hard not to let the tears stinging the corners of your eyes escape their fragile confines. You are unsuccessful, the dam breaking and tears flooding your vision.

“Hey,” Gojo breathes, cupping your cheeks, his thumbs wiping away the tears now streaming down your face, “I didn’t mean to make you cry!”

“Sorry,” you sniffle, gripping his hands and holding them in place, fearing that if you let go he’ll fade out of existence before your very eyes, “I just-”

The loss is endless. It will never stop. And one day, you know that either you’ll lose Gojo, or Gojo will lose you. In some capacity or another.

“Hey, c’mon,” he hushes, pressing a featherlight kiss to your lips before helping to lift you to your feet, “Let’s head back.”

He only ever kisses you in private, because no one is supposed to know about the two of you. Because he’s sure the higher ups would use it as some kind of ammo against him. Against you. This gentle secret is one of the few things that has kept you sane over the years. Stolen kisses after missions alone together, secret rendezvous’ whenever you have a moment to spare. You’re honestly astounded Gojo has managed to keep it to himself after all this time. The only other person that knows is Shoko. And she wouldn’t breathe a word to anyone.

Gojo re-wraps his blindfold around his head and places his hand on the small of your back, guiding you out of the building and towards the exit. Your walk home is filled with more of his idle chatter, but honestly, you’re grateful for it. Anything to distract you from the nasty feeling that abandoned building has left you with.

The highschool is silent when you return. None of the lights are on. You’re greeted by the sorcerer on patrol before you slip inside the teachers quarters. You pull Gojo into your room, certain that no one sees, and quietly shut the door behind you. As soon as you’re inside, his lips are on yours as he gently presses you against the nearest wall. He tastes sweet, like strawberries and cream. Gojo rests his hands on your waist, his fingertips playing with the hem of your shirt. He drops his Infinity for you, allowing you to feel him, actually him and not the barrier that would normally stop others. His skin is soft, warm, and you can feel the flutter of his heart beneath his breast.

For a while, this is as far as you go, letting him encompass you in his arms, pushed safely against the wall, warm in Gojo’s embrace. The only sounds that fill your ears are soft gasps, the shifting of fabric as Gojo’s large hands start to explore, and the small plip your lips make when they press against one another. Before long, though, Gojo lifts you into his arms and carries you towards your bed.

Carefully, he lays you down, tugging at his shirt and letting his pants slip down to his ankles while you work on getting rid of all your clothing. As soon as the two of you are free, he climbs on top of you, laying his lips against yours once again. When he’s with you, it feels as if he’s wrapped you in his Infinity. As if by encompassing you in his arms, he’s encompassed you in a limitless, protective realm.

“May I?” you ask quietly, gesturing to his blindfold.

“Only if you wanna get lost in them,” he teases, smirking.

“You are ridiculous,” you return with probably the nth eyeroll of the day. He peppers your face with kisses amidst his laughing, before acquiescing and letting you unfurl his blindfold. You let it fall to the sheets beneath you as you’re met with blue eyes that hold infinity in them. Indeed, you find yourself lost in them. But for once, instead of making a joke about it, Gojo simply smiles. This moment is soft, quiet. In fact, it’s the quietest you’ve ever heard him.

He stares at you for a while, eyes roving over your face, drinking you in while one hand tucks some errant strands of hair behind your ear. You rest one palm on his chin, your thumb on his lips, caressing the dip in his cupid’s bow. In the darkness, in the sanctity of your room, he’s vulnerable for a moment. He’s the strongest, but he reminds you that he’s human. That he’s just as fragile as you are. He looks at you like you are everything. He looks at you like he looked at Suguru. Like you looked at Suguru. There’s an intimacy between the three of you that perhaps no one else will ever understand. An intimacy that sadly only endured for two.

“I won’t ever curse you,” he breathes, pressing his forehead to yours, “And you’re not going to curse anyone either. I’m sure of it.”

Something in you shatters a little at his words. Nothing is ever a guarantee, but for some reason when Satoru says it, you believe him. He pulls back just enough to kiss you and you feel him smile against you.

“I want to say something,” you venture, “But I’m scared it will curse you if I do.”

He gives you that damned lopsided smile, that dopey, cocky look.

“You’re not gonna curse me,” he reassures, “Just say it. Besides, I’m the strongest, aren’t I? I can handle it.”

You stare at him for a moment, considering his words. You’ve heard him talk about the most twisted curse of all. You’re well aware of its power, its ability to fell even the strongest of sorcerers. But you suppose that both you and Gojo have experienced that curse already. With Suguru. And to you, when he says, “You’re not gonna curse me,” you know that what he really means is, We’ve both been cursed already. What’s one more curse to pile on?

“I love you, Satoru,” you whisper in this sacred silence, half expecting the very foundation of the earth to crumble beneath you, “And that’s not me cursing you. I swear it.”

He pauses, eyes still searching. Always searching. But his silence isn’t unnerving. You know he’s grappling with this confession, with your words. Words that you’ve never had to say to one another before because it’s always just been inherently true. Suddenly, they’re out in the open. Raw. Naked. Delicate. And yet they carry a strength that is unsurpassable. Unbeatable.

“I love you, too,” he returns, his eyes glimmering in the darkness, “And that’s not me cursing you, either.”

He says it with such conviction, with such confidence. As if to say, “Fuck you,” to any curse that might try to imbue itself in your tender admission. Into his. Nothing will taint this feeling. Just as nothing could taint what you and Gojo felt for Suguru.

This might be the first time you’ve formally said those three words, but it’s certainly not the first time you’ve felt it for him. And it’s not the first time that either of you have said something in a similar vein to one another. Often, your love is unspoken. You’ve never needed to say it or to hear it to know that Satoru Gojo loves you. You never said it to Suguru Geto and neither did he. So you reason to yourself that it doesn’t matter if you say it or not. A curse is a curse, spoken or unspoken.

You put these thoughts to rest as Gojo trails kisses down your neck, sucking on the tender flesh just beneath your ear, drawing constrained moans from you. You’re trying so hard to keep quiet, but it’s difficult when you feel Gojo’s erection graze your inner thigh. He buries his face further into your neck when you start to stroke his cock, languid pumps causing him to mewl pathetically into you. He’s particularly noisy, which has been both a source of amusement and argument for the two of you. Tonight, however, he’s doing his best to muffle his sounds.

You can tell he’s exhausted from the day, all his motions unhurried, purposeful. He seems to want to take his time with you, to feel close. He’s never one to outright admit how he’s feeling, but you know him better than anyone. And you can tell he’s probably traumatized a bit by this afternoon’s cursed entity. By the voice of a long dead companion. He’s just as much in need of comfort as you are.

The night passes slowly, but in the best of ways. You and Gojo are intertwined, a tangle of limbs as he gradually eases himself into you. The two of you rest on your sides, your back pressed to his chest, a pillow between your legs to give you better leverage. And Gojo a better angle. When he’s got his full length inside you, he holds you close, his hand resting on your abdomen while one of yours reaches up to tangle in his hair.

“Toru,” you whisper gently, running your fingers through his pale locks, each strand soft between your fingers. You feel his breath fanning against the shell of your ear as he leans in to nip gently at your lobe.

He starts to rock his hips, rolling deeply, taking his sweet time. He’s got a lot of stamina in that lithe body of his, so he’s not worried about tiring himself out. But he’s sure to take breaks when you need them.

The air is hot, heavy, so you crack open a window to let in the night breeze. A beam of moonlight creeps through, illuminating a long, thin strip of your bedroom. Gojo’s hair looks like starlight in the silver light of the moon and his cheeks are rosy. You come together the first time, your core tight before it blissfully releases as Satoru spills into you. His cum runs down your leg, drips onto the sheets, fills you with a welcome warmth. His kisses afterwards are desperate, hungry, utterly sloppy.

The second time, all he really seems to want is his head buried between your thighs. He laps you up like he’s parched. Like he’s been stranded in a desert and you’re an oasis. You have to bite a pillow to muffle your overstimulated cry when your walls pulse and release. When Gojo crashes his lips into yours, he tastes like you.

“Best dessert of the day,” he winks, before it’s his turn. You delight in his muffled, needy moans. His desperate keens as you swirl the tip of your tongue around the swollen tip of his dick. He wants to finish on you, if you’ll let him, and you do. His cum is warm as he releases threads over your abdomen. The two of you have to stealthily find your way to the bathroom, in the dark, and hope that no one hears you tidying up. You and Gojo giggle for a while once you return to your bedroom, finding amusement in how you have to constantly sneak around like you have some sort of curfew or something.

Your final time that night, he’s sheathed deep inside you again, but he picks up the pace a little towards the end, at your request. You’re both covered in a thin layer of sweat by the end of it, your bodies flushed and muscles shaky. Gojo flops down on top of you once he’s spent himself, piercing gaze rolling up to meet yours. His chin rests on your soft stomach. He looks at you like he’s looking at the stars for the very first time.

“I like it better when I can see you without the blindfold,” he practically coos. A pink blush blooms over your cheeks and it’s now that Gojo takes the opportunity to tease once again.

“Awww, did I embarrass you?” he starts, ruining your tender moment with his snickering. But his laughter is muffled when you smash your lips against his.

“You’re rude, Toru,” you scold between kisses.

“You just like having an excuse to shut me up,” he winks. The faint hint of exhaustion creeps into his eyes. He goes back to laying down on top of you, perhaps his favorite position to rest. He doesn’t do it for long, though, knowing he’ll probably cut off your circulation after a while. But feeling his weight on you is a comfort, like one of those weighted blankets. And he seems to find comfort in your softness, in your closeness. He’s all limbs, lanky and willowy, practically spread out across the whole bed as he lays on top of you. Absently, Gojo kneads your hip bone, occasionally pecking tiny kisses along your abdomen. He chit-chats for a while with you, this time about his plans for tomorrow, asking if you’d like to join him.

“Of course,” you return, knowing he’s worried that maybe today’s events might’ve scared you off. He seems pleased, going on to tell you all about something he read in a gossip magazine earlier that week. Eventually, he starts to trail off, until finally, you hear Satoru’s soft snoring. Hearing him sleep, seeing him relax fills you with an unbridled joy. He’s always on the go, always busy, always doing something. These peaceful moments with him are truly ones to be cherished. You shift so he’s not resting directly on top of you anymore, careful as to not wake him. You snuggle up in his arms, pressing a featherlight kiss to the tip of his nose before falling fast asleep in his embrace.

A/N: Inspiration for this fic struck me suddenly last week, so I've been working on it every chance I've gotten over the last couple days. I do love how complicated Gojo is, and his relationship with Geto. Wanted to write a little Gojo x Reader that explored some of that (and also some background poly Gojo x Geto x Reader, because if you've read any of my other stuff, then you will know I love all things poly). Thank you so much for reading! As always, it is a joy to write fanfic and get to share it with people just as passionate about these fandoms. Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated! Lots of love 💜

#jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #jjk fanfic #gojo satoru #suguru geto #geto suguru #lemon #angst #fluff #dani writes #my fanfiction

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i-never-forgot · 1 month

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I wanted to ask for curiosity sake BUT!!! What does Lu wear/look like when he’s evolved into a fully fledged Lucario? We’ve seen Eliana but I don’t think we’ve seen him yet, and I’m SUPER interested :O

I’m not great at drawing Pokes besides Eevee (especially from memory) so the one other time I’ve drawn a Lucario recently I decided…not to post it🥲

But! I don’t give Lu enough attention (plus I’ve been meaning to post some more refined sketches of this duo), so…here you go!😊

Team Relic!

I’ve previously shied away from giving them any specific identifying features because I am frankly terrified of unique character design (I’ve never been particularly good at it tbh…I always draw a blank on what I could include that wouldn’t be terribly cliche…all my OCs weep bc of this lol), but I decided to try my hand at it.

Eliana as an Eevee is taller than average, perhaps the greatest indicator of her physical age despite being a first form Pokémon (still tiny tho). Her paws are a darker shade of brown, similar to the tone in the inside of her ears, and instead of having a somewhat coarse, stiff, straight fur like most Eevee, hers is smoother, silkier, and almost curly (to reflect the texture of her hair as a human more closely). Her fur is also a tad longer, so some of these errant cowlicks are visible. She wears the knot of her scarf in the front sometimes because she does (thankfully) have enough dexterity to tie it on her own, but it takes her a while. Most of the time Lu does it for her.

[Lu develops a habit of either smoothing down said curls with his paws or introducing her to the concept of mutual grooming as a response to either of their occasional insomniac episodes or when one of them is anxious, but only in the privacy of their room. Otherwise, he keeps a paw between her shoulder blades under her ruff and strokes the fur under his pads as a self-soothing tactic, such as when running into Team Skull.]

As a Leafeon she grows extra lithe and lanky, so she has a bit of fawn clumsiness at first because she’d gotten so used to her shorter legs. Her nose scar from Grovyle is fully healed by this point, so it’s faded a bit, but she hadn’t been able to see the dead patch of skin where Dusknoir’s Ice Punch frostbit the flesh around her throat and rendered it hairless before, so she wears something over it almost all the time bc she hates the reminder.

[Later on she continues to wear it bc it distresses Dusknoir to see it a whole lot—it’s hard to coax him back from his guilty spirals, so she only goes “naked” when her things need to be washed after exploring.]

[She doesn’t even realize she has to allow herself time to photosynthesize a certain amount of time per day so the first week she couldn’t figure out why she felt so awful until Sunflora pointed out that her ears and tail looked a bit wilted. Sun baths and afternoon naps become a main stay after that point, although Lu does have to occasionally remind her when she starts to feel down without realizing she’d forgotten to do so.]

[She feels a little naked without her ruff because she’d grown the habit of tucking her chin/mouth into it when stressed out, so when she swaps her Guild scarf for a Virid Collar, she’s grateful to have the extra fabric to nuzzle into when she’s overwhelmed.]

[She can also contort into the oddest shapes to sleep. Lu can’t understand it, but it’s because she and Treecko would often have to wedge themselves into crevices and cracks to rest.]

Lu is pretty much your run-of-the-mill Riolu, although he’s a little slimmer and taller with a bit of a longer narrower snout.

However, when he evolves into Lucario, he fleshes out and gets a bit bulkier after all the exploring they’ve done. His chest spike is broken in an accident, and he develops early gray hair along his muzzle (losing your best friend prematurely to sudden vaporization will certainly affect your stress toleration in the long run huh).

[His fur thickens up in the winter and he’s the best to snuggle with, but given the fact that Treasure Town is coastal it rarely actually gets cold enough to last the whole night without having to peel yourself away for a chance to breathe.]

Let me know if there are any other details or questions you wonder about :)

#fisara’s answers #ao3: in the morning light #pokemon #pokemon mystery dungeon #explorers of sky #my art #eevee/eliana #riolu/lu #lucario/lu #leafeon/eliana

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blackhakumen · 1 month

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Mini Fanfic #1189: The Phantom Princess (Persona 5 X SSBU)

It's a quiet, dark atmosphere in the First Floor of the Mementos, Path of Qimranut, a lanky, shadowy figure wearing an unusual looking mask is walking around the middle of the area unprovoked. Little does he knows, a half of the band of Phantom Thieves are currently hiding in the shadows alongside their newest recruit.

Joker: (Takes a Look at the Main Target While Hiding Behind one of The Tall Pillars Before Communicating on the Ear Piece) Okay, everyone's in position?

Panther: Yep.

Skull: You got it.

Queen: We're ready when you are, Joker.

Joker: (Simply Nodded) Good, good. How are you doing over there, your highness? (Forms a Sly Smirk on his Face) Or should I say.....Ms. Rosetté~

Peach: (Hiding Behind One of the Pillars in the Mid Far Right, Wearing Her Newly Dashing Thief Costume) A little shaky, b-but I'm doing fine for the most part, dear!

Skull: You're still having cold feet, aren't ya?

Peach: ('Sighs in Defeat') I am. This is my very first mission as a Phantom Thief. The last thing I want to do is mess it up for all of you.

Queen: (Gives the Princess a Reassuring Smile) I know this seems scary now, but we know you have what it takes to do this. You just need to stay calm, be vigilant, and remember everything we taught you up to this point.

Panther: (Smiles Brightly) Exactly. And if you just so happen to be stuck in a jam of any way, we'll swoop right in for the save, and that shadow up for you in a heart beat. No one's gonna mess with our Princess Mom and lives to see the light of day.

Skull: We got your back 105%, Rosetté!

Peach: (Heart Begins to Melt in Genuine Happiness as She Wipes Away a Single Tear Falling Down her Eyes) ('Sniff') You kids are such the sweetest in the world~ (Puts on a More Determined Look on her Face) Okay, I'm ready now.

Joker: (Proud Smirk on his Face) Good. Now go out there and show 'em what you got.

Peach: (Happily Nodded in Agreement) Right!

Rosetté quickly blends herself into every available shadows and hiding spots she sees while following behind the masked shadowy figure unnoticed. Seconds of waiting later, a golden opportunity shines upon her masked, gorgeous face as she leaps over towards her target's back and proceeds to climb onto the back of it's shoulders, preparing for her next move.

Peach: (Takes a Deep Breath) Okay. Just like we practice. ('Clears Throat') Now, it's time for you.....

The shadowy figure looks up at the source of the suddenly voice alerting his ears. Only for it Starr screaming in excruciating pain as it's mask gets viciously ripped off from it's face by none other than the one amd only Lady Rosetté.

Peach: To show us your TRUE FORM!!

Joker: And that's our cue to attack. (Leaves Out of his Hiding Spot) Let's go, team!

Thieves: Right! (Nodded in Agreement as They Follow Pursuit)

Rosetté: (Eyes Widened in Surprise by What She Just Did) I did it.....I've unmasked a shadow....(Forms a Bright Smile) On my very first try. (Pumps her Fists Up in the Air in Rejoice) I REALLY DO HAVE WHAT TAKES TO BE A PHANTOM THIE- Huh?

Rosetté suddenly felt the shadowy figure transforming into a muscle-built monstrosity, picking her up off his back, and then proceed to yeets her away from him as hard as it could.

Peach let's out a scream of fear and distress as she soars off, until her leader rushes in to save her from her potential doom.

Joker: I gotcha, Rosetté!! (Catches The Phantom Princess in the Neck of Time, Sliding Himself on the Concrete Floor on the Side Before Stopping and Getting Himself Back Up) ('Sigh') You okay?

Rosetté: (Eyes Are Sparkle While Hugging Joker in his His Arms) My hero!~ Thank you so much~ (Kiss Joker on the Cheek) Are you okay? You didn't hurt yourself trying to catch me, did you?

Joker: (Gives his Newest Recruit a Reassuring Smirk on his Face) Nah. I've gone through way more naiser slides than that one. I'll be fine.

Rosetté: ('Sighs in a Bit of Relief') If you say so.....Just try and be more careful for now on, okay?

Joker: Will do.

Panther: Hey! Uh.....

The duo turns to see Panther looking at them while her and the other fighting an enraged shadow monster.

Panther: Hate to break up a nice, wholesome moment here, but do you guys mind helping us out here!!?

Joker/Rosetté: Coming!

Joker: (Looks Down at the Princess Mom) You really to get some payback?

Rosetté: (Happily Nodded to Joker, Going Back to her Determined Look) More than anything. (Rise Her Fist Up at the Shadow Monster) PERSONA!!

Joker: (Snickers a Bit) You don't have a Persona, remember?

Rosetté: (Giggles a Bit) I know~ I've always wanted to say that.

And so, the two unlikely duo finally joins I'm on the mayhem. The monster itself wasn't nearly as difficult to deal with compared to all the other enemies they've faced in the past, but it did give them a fair enough challenge, especially now that their new recruit is in the picture Persona-Less.

But eventually, once it's finally weak on both it's knees, the Phantom Thieves wasted no time showing no mercy as they deliver an All-Out Attack. As it comes to a close, Rosetté elegantly spins her way forward and does a flashy pose as the shadowy monster is now vanquished.

Rosetté: Show's Over!~

Few Minutes of Shadow Hunting Later, at the LeBlanc Café.........

Ryuji: (Happily Walks Out of the Dimension Along with the Others) Ah dude! We gotta go fight those shadows again sometime. That was AWESOME!

Ann: (Smiles Brightly at Ryuji) Right?~ I never felt that much thrill and adrenaline in a very long time!~

Futuba: (Happily Waves at the Grioup While Seating at the Lounge with Sojiro) Hiya, folks!~

Morgana/Lavenza: (Happily Waves at Everyone as Well) Hi!~

Sojiro: How goes your very first Phantom Thieves Adventure of the year?

Ren: (Happily Shrugs) Gotten a bit rusty here and there, but I think our comeback went out pretty well all things considered. (Turns to Peach) Mostly thanks to our newest member in training.

Ryuji/Ann: (Presents Peach to Everyone with Red Confetti and Jazz Hands) Lady Rosettè!~

Peach: (Giggles Softly While Blushing) Oho you two!~

Morgana: (Walks By With a Broom and Dust Pin in his Hands as He Sweep the Confetti Away in a Deadpinned Look on his Face) Fancy presentation you did there....

Ryuji: (Grins Proudly) Thank you~

Ann: (Smiles Brightly) We rehearsed it at least three times already~

Morgana: (Rolls his Eyes a Bit) It definitely shows. (Walks Away) Dorks.

Ryuji/Ann: Yes it-HEY!

Lavenza: (Turns to Peach) So did you have yourself a good time in the Mementos tonight, Momma Peach?

Peach: (Happily Nodded) Indeed I have. It was a scary experience at first, but I've gotten hang of the Phantom Thievery after a few floors later. At...least I hope I did.

Makoto: (Smiles Softly) You've managed to hold your own until it was all over, your highness. You should be more proud of the effort you've made tonight.

Ren: Yeah, and all the poses you've made along the way...(Does a Chef's Kiss) Fantastic!~ It's like you're a natural born model or something.

Peach: (Giggles Sheepishly) I wouldn't exactly call myself THAT good of a model~ I just saw how nice and flashy your poses are that I just added my own flare and style into mines. ('Sigh') But really though, I'm glad I had the chance to do this sort of thing in general. (Happily Pulls the Phantom into a Group Hug) Thank you all so much for making me part of the Phantoms Thieves!~

Ren: (Chuckles Lightly) Well, thank you for convincing us to do this again in the first place. This is a lot more fun when the whole world isn't in steak for once. We should do this again sometime.

Futuba: And have me tag me with you guys along too! (Starts Pouting) When I don't have any crummy homework to do.

Ren: (Walks to Futuba Along with Ryuji and Ann) Still having trouble with that algebra assignment there, sis?

Futuba: ('Sigh') Somewhat. It was going fairly smoothly at first 'till I got stuck in these types of questions. (Points to Where the Unanswered Questions Are)

Ann: (Takes a Look at the Homework in Question Along with Ryuji) Hm.....Yeeeup. Those are some complicating looking algebra problems alright.

Ryuji: Just like how we remembered them looking back in the good ol' days. (Forms a Cheeky Grin on his Face) Fortunately for you, you goot three veterans to help you out.

Ann: (Happily Nodded) Mmhmm~

Futuba: Ren, definitely. (Points at Both Ryuji and Ann) You two. (Shakes her Hand Side to Side a Little) Ehhh.

Ryuji: (Eyes Widened in Disbelief) The hell you mean "Ehhh"? We're smart!

Ann: (Pouts at Futuba) Yeah! I mean, Ryuji I get completely, but I can be super intelligent when I want to be!

Ryuji: (Glares at Ann) Oh that's rich coming from a girl who barely passed Science Class.

Ann: (Rolls her Eyes) Better to struggle with one class than struggle almost all of the others. (Smirks at Ryuji) Almost like a certain punk I know in this room.

Ryuji: Hey, at least I graduated !!

Ann: Lovely. So did I.

Sojiro: (Does Three Hand Claps) Alright, break it up, you two. You're too old now to be arguing in this public establishment.

Ren: (Crosses his Arms) Couldn't have said it any better myself. (Smirks Smugly at his Two Best Friends) Besides, I clearly trumped you two in terms of book smarts alone. Did you forget who was one of the Straight A students Shujin High has to offer?

Ann: (Gives Ren a Deadpinned Look on her Face Along with Ryuji) How could we?

Ryuji: You never shut up about it when report cards came in.

Ren: That's right! Cause I'm a genius through and through.

Sojiro: (Raises an Eyebrow at Ren) Really? Then how come you always asked me to help you do your own homework after school?

Morgana: (Raises an Eyebrow as Well) And have me give you the answers in class without getting caught?

Lavenza: (Grabs her Chin While Thinking) You know, I did remember you borrowing my Book of All Knowledge on a few occasions.....

Futuba: Wait, didn't you asked me to help you cheat that one ti-

Ren: Okay! So maybe I did have a few help along the way!.....But I'm still the smartest in the room.

Ann/Ryuji: (Coming Glares at Ren) OH BULL!

Everyone begins to argue among each other while Makoto and Peach watches in the background.

Makoto: (Facepalms Herself While Sighing) The nerve of that boy.....He's not even the Top 20 Smartest Student in the entire school.

Peach: (Giggles a Bit) At least he came a long way to get to where he is now, right?

Makoto: (Stares at her Boyfriend Before Happily Nodded in Agreement) Yeah. (Frowns a Bit Before Turning Back to Peach) Hey, your majesty, do you mind if I talk to you for a bit? In private? I-If you don't mind that is.

Peach: (Starts Getting a Bit Concerned Once She Sees the Look on Makoto's Face) No, not at all. Let's go over here. (Gently Grab Hold of Makoto's Hand and Takes Her to One of the Far Away Tables) You know, I've been noticing something's been bothering you since we came inside the Mementos.

Makoto: Is that so? (Gently Scratching the Side of her Cheek) Was it....really that obvious?

Peach: I wouldn't say that's the case completely. It's just Motherly Instincts being as precise as ever is all. (Sits Next to Makoto On the Same Side of the Table) Now tell Momma Peach what you wanna tell her. Take as much time to do so if you like.

Makoto: Thank you. Well....U-Um......Before I tell you anything, I-I wanna show you something first! (Takes her Phone Out From her Pocket) Sorry in advance.

Peach: Baby, don't apologize. Show me.

Makoto shows Peach a picture of a beautiful golden ring with the word "Love~" written on the front, sitting comfortably inside the opened small black box.

Peach: (Eyes Begins to Sparkle at the Picture in Question) My gosh~ That ring looks so pretty~ Beautiful even~

Makoto: (Smiles Softly at the Picture as Well) I couldn't agree more. I brought it at a jewelry show Shiho-San and I went to a while back. This ring represents a strong, graceful bond between two lovers. It helps reassure them that no matter how much the world around them will keep changing, for better, for worse, you'll always stick together through and through

Peach: (Hearts Begins to Melt as She Wipes a Tear Off of her Eyes) ('Sniff') That has to be one of the most sweetest things I have ever heard~ ('Sniff') And the ring itself is absolutely perfect for a wedd- (Eyes Suddenly Begins Widened at the Realization) ('GASPS') WAIIT! I-Is This....What I think this means?~

Makoto: (Giggles Softly) You guessed right. I.....Am going to ask Ren Amimaya's hand in marriage some day.

Peach: (Happily Squeals as She Pulls Makoto's into a Loving Hug) Oh my goodness graciooooous!~ Words cannot express how happy I am for youuuuuu!~

Makoto: (Giggles Some More) I can't thank you enough~

Peach: Mm~ ('Gasps') And now you're getting nervous about proposing to him someday, are you?

Makoto: (Eyes Widened in Genuine Surprise) Wow. Your Motherly Instincts are really on point tonight. ('Sigh') But yes....I've kinda been a nervous wreck about it as of recent. Proposals are the most sacred of all gestures and the fact I'm sitting fretting over possibilities of me messing this up somehow shows how.....weak in the knees I'm becoming in retrospect.

Peach: (Gently Place her Hand on Makoto's Shoulder) Hey now. There's nothing wrong with being nervous about this sort of thing. It happens to everyone, no matter how much in love they truly are. (Forms a Teasing Smirk on her Face) And I know full well how head over heels you feel about that boy, huh?

Makoto: (Let's Out an Exhausted Sigh) Ohhhh you have no idea!~ He always drives me absolutely crazy with his cute smile, his bright eyes, fluffy curly hair, his recklessness, his troublemaking attitude, his fierce determination, his passion, and his overall sweetness and care. (Starts Tearing Up a Bit) I love him so much, Momma Peach. ('Sniff') I wanna be with him forever and ever and ever~

Peach: (Hugs Makoto Again) I know you do, sweetheart. You two are going to be the most wonderful newly wed couple this city and our world will ever see. But you don't have to rush in and do this if you feel scared or not ready. Just take all the time you need to ease your mind and build up your courage. Then, when the opportunity is just right, seized it and show that young man just how much you love and adore him with that gorgeous ring of yours!

Makoto: (Sighs a Bit While Wiping her Tears Away) Right. I'll stick to that plan until I'm completely ready. I made it this far and I'll be DAMNED if I'm going to stop and back out now!

Peach: (Smiles Very Proudly and Brightly) That's the spirit!!~ I'm rooting for you 100%!~ Annnnd if you do managed to put that ring on his finger, let me know and I will work as hard as I can make your beautiful wedding day come to reality, no questions asked.

Makoto: (Heart Begins to Melt in Genuine Happiness as She Hugs Peach Back) Thank you so much, your highness. You really are a great mom.

Peach: (Smiles Brightly) I only do my very best for my family, dear~

Ryuji: Yo, Princess Mom! You got yourself a special company!!

?????: Hello!

Peach: (Gasps Happily Once She Easily Recognizes that Voice) Mario!~ (Turns to Makoto)

Makoto: (Giggles Again) Don't worry, I'm fine now. Go ahead.

Peach: If you say so. Take care, sweetie. (Gives Makoto a Quick Peck on the Side of her Head Before Rushing Herself Over to her Teddy Bear) I'm coming, babyyy!~

Mario: (Eyes Widened in Awe at What his Princess is Wearing While Blushing) Peach..... is that really you?

Peach: (Giggles Softly as She Picks Mario Up, Twirls Him Around, and Hugs Him) The one and only!~ I'm an official Phantom Thief now, Codename: Lady Rosettè!~ You like?~

Mario: Times infinity. ('Sighs') Mama Mia, Peach. First the Swordfighter costume and now THIS!? Are you trying to make look like a tomato?

Peach: That's the plan!~ (Smirks Playfully) And I do say that it is working like a charm thus far. So there's no way I'm gonna stop now!~ (Kisses Mario on the Cheek)

Mario: (Chuckles Ticklishly by Peach's Affections) Peheheheach!~ Not in public!~ Mr. Sojiro has a café business to run remember!?~

Sojiro: (Chuckles Lightly Along With Everyone Else Watching) Nah, not a lot of people come to this time of hour on a Monday, you're good. Keep kissing away, your highness.

Peach: (Happily Salutes to Sojiro) Will do!~ (Looks Down at Mario with a Seductive Smirk) Come to Mama Peach, dear~ (Continues Kissing her Man)

Makoto: (Giggles Softly at the Adorable Scene in Front of Her)

Ren: (Walks Over to Makoto's Table) Yo Queen. You're doing good over there.

Makoto: (Smiles a Bit at her Boyfriend) Yeah. Peach and I were talking about fashion related topics is all. (Turns to Mario and Peach) I take it you guys called Mr. Mario over here.

Ren: Yep. He was supposed to help Futuba with her homework. (Casually Shrugs) Buuuut we figured we show how 'im what our newest recruit look first. Pretty sure that's what she wanted to do this whole time.

Makoto: (Nodded in Agreement) Oh definitely. She couldn't even held her excitement of doing so for that long when she first wore that attire.

Ren: Yep. Hey, Makoto?

Makoto: Hm?

Ren: (Gives his Girlfriend a Loving Hug) I love you~ Sorry i never got the chance to tell you that up until now.

Makoto: (Heart Starts Melting Agaij as She Happily Hugs Ren Back) Oh don't worry about it. It was a busy day for all of us tonight, it happens. Buuuut~ If you really wanna make it up to me.....(Starts Snuggling onto Ren's Embrace) You could indulge me with a mini Cuddle Session here~

Ren: (Playfully Raises an Eyebrow) Really? In a public establishment?

Makoto: (Playfully Pouts at her Joker) Oh please. Not a lot customers come here in a monday night. Plus, I'm really tired from all that running and shadow killing we did earlier. I earned this.

Ren: ('Sigh') Whatever you say, dear.

Happy Princess Peach Showtime Release Day, Everyone!!!

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