#bc he have a million tattoos and piercings

[yamsarts]

no one asked but idc i think tma Gerry and Needles should kiss

[satorena]

#INTRO2MUNCH101

summ. when suguru “eat it off the bone” geto actually turns out to be suguru “flaps the left lip until she calls it a night” geto, he finds himself questioning everything he thought he knew about his skills. . . talk about a rude awakening.

cw. explicit content. foul language. fem!reader. college!au. eventual smut (but not in the way you think. . .) mild modern lingo. allusions to music artists. cunningulūs. male masturbation. reader has a belly piercing. she’s also depicted mean by the boys. gojo cameos bc i can’t not mention him. tattoo artist!geto. substance consumption. lowkeyyy self-indulgent reader. 10k wc.

rena's note. this is a spin-off to p power, so i’d suggest reading that first to understand the correlation!

suguru geto is a simple man.

your pleasure is his pleasure. he’s always prided himself on being a pro at the art of cunningulus. honest— he’s always left with swollen lips, a heavily sprayed face and a solid five star ratings at the end of his work. his jaw feels tired out, scalp burning from consistent hair tugs, and his breathing uneven from lack of oxygen. but at the feel of plush thighs squeezing his face and the repetition of his name flowing into the air before getting squirted on, he remembers it’s always worth it.

no pain no gain, right?

wrong.

because here he finds himself, a hefty hour in since he first dove in between your soft legs, and there’s been absolutely no development. sprawled on your back on his sheets, arm slung over your eyes, and your breathing even. you look fucking bored, and his heart is sinking to his ass.

geto will use every trick he has in the book. he’s noticed overtime that girls have different bodies, therefore he needs different tactics to stimulate those bodies. he nips at your puffy bud, sucking on your clit for external pleasure. no use. fine, then he’ll push your thighs up some more for a deeper penetration of his fingers in your cunt— still no use. the only sounds being produced are his mouth slipping against his own saliva at your pussy because he can’t even get you wet enough.

the pit in his stomach grows larger. he wonders if maybe you’re just the silent type? he’s come across those before.

he’s getting nervous out of his mind, so shaky and uncoordinated that his hand slips and meets your lips for the umpteenth time— and only then do you release a guttural groan, the very first sound you’ve made in a long ass time. wait—

“did. . . did you cum?” he pants, pulling his sticky lips away from yours. his face feels moist, blood rushing all in his head and he’s lightheaded. but still, he has to know.

you push yourself up to your elbows, annoyance clear as day. he’s yet to seen this look on a girl after pulling every card known on the table, “yeah. . . to the wrong fucking house.”

oh fuck.

☆ ☆ ☆

he first spotted you chatting it up with your friends on the school’s soccer field, on a random tuesday afternoon, and he’s been hooked on you ever since.

the universe played a funny game, and he realized university truly is a small ass world. amongst your friends, he noticed a familiar face. one he’s been hearing and seeing of one too many times lately, on multiple separate and traumatic occasions— gojo’s girlfriend. suguru found himself bonding with her due to their familiar point of interest— that being gojo— and believes he can now make of her a friend.

geto watches his best friend’s eyes shimmer and he flashes his infamous million dollar smile. he really is obsessed with his girlfriend and she doesn’t even know— and geto finds himself wishing he had somebody he’d be this ecstatic over. must be nice.

“i’m gonna go say hi to my girl real quick,” gojo taps at his shoulder, and geto nods. he’s cool on it, he’ll wait back here until he’s done, or can make his way to his next class depending on whatever gojo and his girlfriend arrange. “you comin’?”

“i’m probably gonna head to our next lecture.” geto voices out, pulling his phone from his pocket to check the time. he feels gojo peeking over his shoulder, in which he assumes to verify if that would be necessary.

over forty-five minutes. damn it.

“that’s mad pointless, class doesn’t start till more than half an hour,” gojo says, and geto doesn’t see himself waiting around that long for a lecture. no way, “just come— her friends are chill.”

fuck it, he goes. naturally, gojo is all over his girl and her friends expect it. geto does give them a little wave when gojo introduces him. one of the girls mention having heard of him through a friend— something about a failed talking stage. mad federal, and the sheepish chuckle geto offers when you give him an unreadable look makes him want to crawl into a ditch.

so now you think he’s a whore. awesome.

and gojo’s smirk definitely doesn’t help him out. he doesn’t help out at all actually, so enamoured by his girlfriend that he leaves geto to fend for himself against a pack of wolves (read: nosy girls). he replies only when spoken to, nods when necessary and throws in a few “that’s crazy,” to which the girls fail to pick up he’s out of words to say.

well, everyone except you.

you’re quiet. in fact, the whole time, you haven’t said shit to him. you sit back and observe, occasionally typing on your macbook, or reapplying your lip combo. you didn’t have any words to say to him. even when your friends would talk to you, you gave them short answers and went back to listening to whatever was playing in your airpods. he could tell from that small interaction alone, you were the mean one out of your clique.

and fuck if that didn’t make him want you more. there was just something about mean women that made him want to break through their fake ass exteriors and watch them turn all soft and chummy for him.

blame it on his corruption kink.

gojo confirms his thoughts when they’re finally on their way to class. he kissed his girl goodbye and waved off her friends, to which they all (minus you) collectively cooed, “byeee gojooo!” which he found odd, but kept silent. he gave them a small nod before following his best friend.

they’re a few steps in the science building when the words slip before he can help it, ultimately cutting gojo’s rambling off, “yo, who was that girl?”

gojo glances at him before chuckling, “there was like seven of ‘em. which one?”

“the quiet one.”

it throws him off guard when gojo laughs hard. like, really hard. it attracts the attention of bystanders, who give him a crazy look but gojo ignores. as if they’d try to press him about his volume— the two were pretty adored around campus.

geto does find his reaction quite interesting, to which he cocks a brow and offers a chuckle of his own, “what?”

“oh, you definitely mean y/n,” when his laughter dies down, he finally answers. he lifts his shades to his hairline to swipe a tear. “she’s mean as fuck, bro.”

“right?!” geto laughs, tapping at gojo’s shoulder. it only charges gojo’s laughing fit back up, “i could tell from her vibe. she gives off those ‘men ain’t shit’ girlies on twitter. whole time, she’s probably laid up in bed with one.”

“you don’t even knowww,” gojo holds his shoulder and shakes him a bit. geto does in fact know, because he’s dealt with girls like her before. they’re always a good ass time. “she does men dirty. like, absolutely dogs them. heard one phone call too many.”

oh? even better than he expected. she’s probably the type that used to love hard before getting her heart trampled on and decided to seek revenge on all men. like, on some jennifer’s body shit. geto can’t help but smirk, “lemme see for myself. put me on.”

gojo falters in his step. his grip on geto’s shoulders loosen and his expression changes— not by much, but the once lighthearted smile switches to a skeptical one, “you serious?”

geto lets out a soft sigh, shrugging gojo’s hands off his shoulders. “don’t start asking too much. i did a favour for you and your girl, didn’t i?,” well, technically speaking it wasn’t like his comment had been the deciding factor for the two, but it did open gojo’s eyes. “you owe me one.”

“i don’t owe you shit,” gojo laughs, throwing his arm around geto anyways, “buuut you’re my boy and i’m not stingy. i’ll see what i can do, i know you’ve been getting a lil jealous of wifey and i.”

“shut the fuck up.” geto’s chuckles contradict his statement.

from that point on, it’s smooth sailing. gojo texts his girl asking if she’s seeing anybody. they have a little back and forth because his girlfriend assumes he’s asking for himself— which gojo gets all dramatic and throws geto under the bus for free. welp! it all worked out anyway since after he and gojo parted, you’d thought he was fine shyt. judging from your character, he doesn’t exactly take gojo’s words for what they are.

but he’ll take the opening, it’s as good as any.

time to plot.

☆ ☆ ☆

the second encounter was purely coincidental. and simultaneously embarrassing.

see, geto prides himself on his mysterious act— granted he was anything but. people see all that is gojo and automatically assume that geto has to be the cool one. it creates a perfect balance, no?

haven’t people heard of birds of a feather flock together?

so yes, he’s also a nerd. he typically enjoys spending his wednesday afternoons at dice board cafes because why not. it’s a chill, lowkey joint right off campus and not a lot of people gravitate towards, therefore the perfect spot to camp out before his evening lecture.

besides, his buddy choso works there and it gets him discounts. it isn’t the only reason he shows up, but it does help a lot on his pockets. being a student is awful, financially.

geto sips on his choco latte through a straw, browsing through the board games pamphlet as he decides what he’s going to play today. most of these games are pretty pointless if he doesn’t have an opponent, but he likes to think it helps develop his iq. he hears avenoir playing through the cafe and knows choso’s on aux.

who else could be playing this toxic ass shit?

he’s torn choosing between snakes and ladders or chess when he hears chimes at the front door, signalling somebody’s entered the establishment. he doesn’t think much of it, going on about minding his business when he hears choso say your name.

the latte enters the wrong tube and he chokes.

geto collects himself quickly, wiping any stray liquid past his mouth as his head snaps up. you’re propped up against the counter, and though he can’t see your face, he definitely recognizes your build. . . okay, yeah that sounds fucking pervy but if he stalked your page a few times, who’s business is it but his own? it’s not like you’d know. granted, he had got caught up liking one of your older photos but he took the like right back!

he debates on walking up to you. how would that even work without seeming desperate? you’ve been checking out all of his boxes so far— your face, body and attitude (question mark) are all tens. he does want to get to know you— at least be somebody in your life. but damn, why is he overthinking this? all he has to get up there and sweet talk you. he’s done this shit before.

“yo, suguru!”

shit.

purple orbs shift towards where his name was called, and lo and behold, there stands choso. and naturally, you look back to who was summoned, but god— social media does not do your face justice. he last seen you about a week ago, and had nothing but your instagram and his memory to rely on.

he makes his way to the counter and ignores you. doesn’t spare you a glance once— though he stands right at your side and watches you watching him through his peripheral. he nods at choso, “what’s up?”

choso, ever the genius, flicks his eyes between geto and you, before clearing his throat, “shoko just texted— somethin’ about a new client. how’s the studio looking?”

“booked all week,” geto answers truthfully, and he notices you’ve shifted your gaze, “little to no openings. why though?”

choso hums, jolting down online orders into a little notebook, “not even for a special friend?”

geto squints his eyes at that. there isn’t anybody he’d call a special friend that hasn’t already been booked or wouldn’t have his number to squeeze in an appointment. granted, he is a dnd warrior but even his friends know of that quirk of his, “depends. who’s the special friend?”

“me.” and he feels his heart skip a beat. fuck. he tilts his head over to the side, and good lord, your face card gave every girl on campus runs for their money. seriously, your facial features complimented you in a way that told aphrodite— the textbook definition of beauty— to go fuck herself, and hard.

“oh?” geto cocks a brow, and lets his eyes roam up and down your frame. shameless, yes, but he has a reputation to uphold. your rest in face makes his own look like child’s play, “didn’t realize we were on special friends basis.”

you click your tongue, “didn’t realize we were on lurking spam accounts but pretend we don’t exist the next day basis either,” you quip right back, picking at the white bow glued to your acrylics.

sassy. geto chuckles, now fully turning his body around to face you. you match his movements, and he toys with a ring on his middle finger, “guess you got me all figured out,” he pauses, shifting his gaze to choso, who’s already eyeing him. “sounds like you wanted me to reach out.”

“boy please,” you scoff, pausing your nail inspection. you let your hand hang, “you choked earlier because you heard my name. that corny nonchalant act isn’t the flex you’re thinking it is,” a huff escapes your lips, and geto feels blood rushing to his face. “your lurking ass was months deep into my page just a week ago— did you find any men ain’t shit vibes from the photo dump?”

choso stifles a laugh, and when geto looks at him, it dies into a cough. well damn, you really didn’t hold anything back. read him like a book actually— and it doesn’t help that gojo can’t keep his mouth shut for shit. it widens the grin on his face. he thinks he likes you.

“well,” geto smirks, “can’t say i have— means there’s still an opening.”

you furrow your brows, “oh? an opening to what exactly?”

“an appointment, of course,” he shrugs, running a hand through his hair. his locks are getting in his face, but the messy look always gets him compliments. might as well shoot his shot, “you know. . .” leaning his chin into the palm of his hand, “for a special friend.”

his double entendre definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by you. he watches how, despite the mean mugging, there’s a glint of mischief in your eyes. you’re squinting just slightly, almost as if you were weighing out the pros and cons. geto won’t break the eye contact first— he’s on a mission. he hopes the tired eyes look will be on his side this time.

tattoo or dick appointment— he would one hundred percent make an opening for you. anything to get his hands on your body.

“are we still talking about the tattoo parlour or . . .”

both you and he turn to choso, who’s watching the situation unfold. just count on him to ruin the mood, whether the obliviousness was feigned or not. choso tightens his brows at the look geto shoots him, “what?”

“i’m gonna head out,” you grab at your handbag, hopping of the seat. nicely played choso. you gather your items and slip them in your purse, sliding a few bucks across the counter. choso grabs the bills and stick them in the tip jar, nodding at her. “catch you in poly sci?”

“if you don’t skip again.” choso snorts and you flip him off, slinging your bag over your shoulder. you turn on your heel and make your way towards the exit, ultimately dismissing geto. that doesn’t feel too nice, he should probably stop that bad habit.

he rises to his feet before he can help it. his hand grabs at your wrist and notices how much smaller it seems in comparaison to his, and he hates the next words that leave his mouth, “what about me?”

you glance down at his hold on you, before looking back up at him, “what about you?” your face says everything your lips haven’t— you’re getting the ick.

he wants to wince. okay, yeah that was corny, “when do i get to see you?”

you drag out a mini hum, your gaze dancing over his silver chain around his collarbone, “dunno. you have my socials so i assume in the next hour.”

he tilts his head to the side, and the pad of his thumb grazes over your smooth skin. he doesn’t fail to notice the way your hand stiffens under his touch, “so if i slide in your dms in the next hour, i can expect an answer?”

a snort leaves your chest, and he can’t tell if it’s a condescending one or an amused one. what he does know, however, is that he’s going to be seeing you sometime soon. you take your hand back into your possession before laying it in the dead centre of his chest, pushing him back just slightly, “i’ll see you around, geto.”

his eyes trail over your figure, every step you take out of the establishment, slightly starstruck by the entirety of you— your boldness. the thrill he was beginning to feel felt like a high. he hasn’t met anybody this entertaining in a while.

“you’re so fucking corny.” he thinks he hears choso insult him from behind. he doesn’t pay him any mind, despite the middle finger that tips towards the ceiling. partynextdoor blasts in the cafe, specifically freak in you, and he hates how he finds himself relating to the lyrics,

room full of beautiful women but he only wants one.

☆ ☆ ☆

“you stalking me, pretty?”

“sure,” you nod your head, raking through the items on the clothing rack. you don’t spare him a single glance, picking a top off the rack and inspecting it, “if stalking means visiting the busiest thrift store on the busiest hour in the busiest city.”

geto lets out a small laugh, shoving his hands in the pockets of his cargos. you make him feel like a nuisance, like he’s a pest wasting your time. ironic, seeing as he wasn’t that much of a bother just last night, when you’d been indulging him in your inbox, “of course you’re the thrifting type.”

you pause your actions, price tag in your fingers as you side eye him through locks of your hair, “and you’re not?”

“didn’t mean it in a bad way, sweetheart.” geto shrugs, pulling off a cropped baby tee and bringing towards you. it has sequins sewn in the material, the gems writing out juicy couture. “this would suit you— belly piercing and whatnot.”

the top is cute, there was no denying so. a pretty shade of pink that suited your complexion, but letting his ego inflate bigger than it already was out of the question. he could tell your thought process from the judgmental look you offered, “oh god—you’re one of those fake ass, streetwearing fashionistas, aren’t you?”

geto blinks a few times, before letting out a sincere laugh. he’s been called a multitude of things before, but that one was new, “you got all that from me suggesting you buy this juicy couture tee? don’t all girls fiend over this vintage shit?”

“it’s that corny ass personality of yours,” you grab the shirt, throwing it in your cart. he wants to make a comment on that, but you beat him to the chase, “the phoney nonchalant act, the streetwear, your insta aesthetic— you’re so scripted.”

“my insta aesthetic?” he repeats, and doesn’t miss a step to catch up to you. your hands are back on the handle of your shopping cart, and if the way his elbows bump into your shoulders bothers you, you don’t make point in commenting on it. “who’s the lurker now, hm?”

you roll your eyes, pushing the strolley ahead, “don’t let it get to your big ass head. your feed screams you’re those toxic ass brent faiyaz wannabes,” he watches your fingertips rake through more clothings that pass your way, before you shoot him a glance, “let me guess— he showed on your spotify wrapped.”

his silence speaks volumes, and you click your tongue, “see? scripted.”

“and what about you?” geto counters when you make a pit stop. you pull away from your cart when a denim skirt catches your eye. you lift the skirt up to your eyes, before looking over your shoulder, cocking a brow.

“what about me?”

“the tweet reposts, the song choices for your highlights, the whole spiritual baddie persona,” he presses behind you, his chest meeting your back. he rests his chin atop your head, purple eyes landing on the clothing article that’s lowering in your hold, “if my page gives brent then yours definitely gives jhene.”

you’re mute for a second, and you chuck the skirt into the cart. you pull away from beneath him, spinning on your feet to face him, and you’ve got a scowl on your lips, “what’s wrong with jhene?”

“and you call me the toxic one.” geto pokes at your cheek. you swipe his hand away, and he laughs, “don’t get me wrong though— she makes good music. but let’s not act like she’s all innocent either,” his gaze lowers to your glossy lips, the fullness of the pair hypnotic, “a real freak. should i call you my pussy fairy?”

“do not,” you reply, weaving around him to make your way back to your cart. geto laughs, snatching a few things of the racks before dumping them in your stuff. you give him a deadpanned look and he whistles it off, feigning ignorance. “jhene’s a lovergirl. thought i was part of the men ain’t shit community.”

“you’re not gonna let that go, are you?” geto sighs. he owes gojo another thump in the head.

you roll your eyes, “thank your homeboy for that.”

“two things can be true at once,” geto fiddles with the hem of his jacket. he’s back at walking step by step with you, and you haven’t told him to fuck off yet, so he’s going to milk the opportunity out. “you’re mean but a lovergirl. you hate men but a real freak with them. right or wrong?”

you halter in your steps, and geto’s now a few steps ahead of you, so he looks over his shoulder to meet your bored expression, “i know you’re not trying to read me in the middle of value village.”

“no better time than the present,” he smiles, one that creases a dimple in his cheeks. “come on up— what are you waiting for?”

you stare at him some more, inhaling sharply, “mind you, i never invited you to join me,” you shake your head but comply regardless. cute, looks like you’re enjoying his company more than you’re letting on.

so he graces you his presence some more. he shops along with you, sneaks clothes into your cart when you’re distracted and asks you stupid questions. it’s a good time— to him at least, being able to get to know you some more without interruptions. naturally, you feign that his company is the bane of your existence, but he doesn’t miss the twitch of your lips when he taps his card into the reader at the check out.

hell yeah he’s got money to spend and is willing to show off if it means getting on your good side.

it’s only after he helps you bag your shit into your car, that he realizes this is where the both of you part ways. it annoys him slightly, but he doesn’t need to overstep his boundaries. he closes your trunk and makes his way to the driver’s side, where you’re already buckled up.

he taps at your window and the glass rolls down all the way, to which he leans forward. he’s in your line of sight now and you sigh, tilting your head sideways, “what?”

“do i get a goodbye kiss?” geto teases, honest, the boyish smirk he offers accentuating the playful undertone. the last thing he expects is you shifting in your seat, pushing yourself up and peaking your head out the window.

his smirk drops, brows jumping to his hairline. you’re really fucking close now, and for a split second he thinks you’re actually going to do it. he can see the flecks of colours swimming in your orbs, the tip of your nose bumps into his and your breath fans his cupid’s bow.

fuck, you smell really good. he bets you taste even better. his mouth is running dry, mindlessly darting his tongue out to wet his own lips. he doesn’t realize he’s let himself lean into your space, eyes narrowing on your mouth parting over his.

he’s pulled out of his trance when two fingers press at his forehead and push. he blinks his lashes, snapping back to reality as you sit back into your seat. you look amused— as if you’d played the funniest game right in his face and he’d been the star player.

“i’ll see you around, geto.”

and you drive off.

☆ ☆ ☆

“come back in a few weeks for a checkup. we’ll make sure the healing process is running smoothly. i’ll catch you soon.”

he lets out a tired sigh when the door finally closes, slumping into his seat and shuts his eyes. he’s exhausted— having woken up early for lectures and labs to back to back appointments with clients. this time around, the parlour is always booked and busy. students find it the perfect timing to get tatted to let it heal before showing it off in the summer.

it’s smart for them but idiotic for him. midterms are up, and the only time he has to study is in between appointments. he slides off his gloves and drags his seat towards his desk, redirecting his attention focus towards the blinding screen.

he feels a headache building at his temple, sipping at his iced coffee to keep him energized. contradicting, sure, but you didn’t have the luxury to be a beggar and a chooser when you were a full time student. the parlour he ran resided in his loft apartment, on the second floor. he enjoyed the comfort of his own home, spacious room and wide windows compared to outside stores.

his cat, nanako, purrs at his feet and he feels his heart swell. if there was one weakness he had in this world, it’d be her. he picks her up from the floor, presses her at his rib cage and nuzzles his nose in her fur.

“hi baby,” geto coos, and nanako lets out a sound. he continues to coddle her, fluffing her fur and rubbing at her ears, “it’s been pretty lively in here, hasn’t it? i knowww,” he coos, and as if nanako understands his words, she makes a pitiful sound that slightly shatters his heart.

geto decides to place her on his lap, her company serving plenty of motivation as he rolls back to his desk. he grabs the remote to his built-in speakers, turning the volume higher, before locking back in. exams are full of crap, and words are starting to jumble on his screen— he’s beginning to contemplate if this education shit is even worth the stress.

he’s an hour deep in jolting notes down on his ipad when he hears a knock at his front door. he scrunches his brows and glances at his agenda— he isn’t due for an appointment until another few hours. he sits it out, starting to believe he’d maybe imagined the sound. he knows it isn’t gojo since he’s celebrating an anniversary with his girl, and any other friend would’ve called to let him know they’re outside.

probably some jehovah witness shit, he thinks to himself, fingers hovering over his speaker remote to crank the volume back up. he turns back to his laptop screen, petting nanako mindlessly when his ipad flashes an instagram notification.

yourstruly.yn: open up

he jumps to his feet, chair rolling back. nanako flies to his desk, landing on all fours as she hisses at him for his suddenness. geto grabs her and kisses her ear, “sorry baby,” before sitting her on the floor. she walks off to her mini bean bag right at the foot of his desk, and he senses an attitude coming from her.

damn, he’d forgotten he squeezed you in last night in the midst of his sweet talking. that was truly a stupid move, he was already behind on studying, and because he likes to think with his head instead of his actual head, he’d fall even further behind.

he checks around the flat— picks up stray wrappers and fixes throw pillows, arranges his sheets. he was a clean man for the most part— he had been so distracted with his studies that there wasn’t much to dirty in the first place. his candles had already been lit so he knew the place smelled fine. he’s pretty positive his loft is clean enough to leave a good first impression.

he fixes loose hairs and straightens out his hoodie and sweats. thank fuck he’d showered not too long ago— he’s beginning to understand why his mother was always so insistent on being clean in case of random pop ups.

when he does finally open the door, there you stood. it was pretty chilly outside this time around, so he wasn’t surprised by the harsh wind flowing in and the clutch of your coat in your hold. your nose began reddening, and you sniffled, scowling from the cold.

you’re so cute, he sends you a smile, “hey.”

“hi,” you replied, sniffling again. “you ever planning on letting me in?”

“dunno,” he crosses his arms over his chest. he leans against the doorframe, ignoring the way he was starting to feel the frosty wind setting in his bones, “maybe if you ask nicely.”

you shoot him a deadpanned look, “move.”

“no.” geto smiles, “try again.”

“move, now.” a small pout is starting to form on your lips. he really liked testing your patience, since it always seemed to run low. you must’ve met your match— because geto always had time to fuck around.

“close, but not quite.”

“oh my goddd,” you groan, and that’s when he decides to let up. it really is colder than a bitch outside and he’d already kept you waiting while tidying up. he lets out a chuckle when you turn to the side, “i’m leaving— too damn cold for this.”

“alright, i’m playing,” geto widens the door. you stop your movements and glare at him. he aims an arm towards the inside of his loft, “don’t go, come in.”

you grumble something beneath your breath but comply, walking right past him. he follows behind you, shutting the door close and is immediately greeted back with warmth. you slip your shoes off and place them on the rack, before stepping in further into his apartment.

he slides his hands into his sweatpants’ pockets, catching up to you in the living room. your head is tilted upwards as you inspect the place though you remain in place. he stands beside you, bumping his shoulder into your arm, “so? up to your standards?”

you’re quiet for a while, letting your eyes roam around as the words build in your mind, “it’s typical,” you shrug but don’t elaborate. you’ve been staring at an art piece he’d done first year when he was fried out of his mind. you shift your gaze back to him, “where do i put my shit?”

“you can leave it in my bedroom, if that’s fine.” geto suggests and you nod wordlessly, to which he leads you to the second floor. he’s walking up the stairs and prays he doesn’t fall flat on his face— his socks can be a real bitch sometimes.

you both make it to his bedroom, with you trailing a little behind. he grabs a hanger from his mobile clothing rack, stretching an arm out to you, “i’ll hang your jacket here.”

you slide off the coat from your frame and hand it to him, to which he hangs on the rack. you circle around his bedroom with your tote on your shoulder, while he makes his way back to next to his desk. it’s pretty quiet for the most part, besides the music playing gently in the background.

your gaze lands on the cluttered items on his desk, noticing the half empty cup of coffee, notebooks and ipad on display, “did i catch you at a bad time?”

“honestly? yeah,” geto shrugs, before motioning at your tote bag. you slip it off and hand it to him, to which he sits at his nightstand, “but it’s my fault anyway, i squeezed you in a busy time. you know how exam season gets.”

“i can always reschedule,” you offer, checking your phone screen for the date, “it’s not that deep.”

“i don’t want you to leave,” geto slumps back into his seat and heaves out a sigh. he spins the chair around to catch you giving him a flat look. he leans back in his seat and spreads his thighs, smirking, “would you stay?”

“depends. are you going to be studying?” you quip, crossing your arms back to your chest.

geto ponders on what to say next. it’s not like he doesn’t want to tatt you up, but he really is caught in a bind. he also doesn’t want you to leave— not when he’s been wanting to see you since the last time he’d seen you. does he prioritize his wants or his needs?

he hums, “i’ll do whatever you want me to.”

you roll your eyes, scoffing as you make your way to his nightstand. for a second, he thinks you’re getting ready to leave and a weird feeling of disappointment settles in his gut. instead, you grab the bag and sit on the edge of his bed, pulling out your macbook and crossing your legs.

he smiles at that, “attagirl.”

“corny.” you mumble, chewing on your bottom lip as you begin typing away.

there’s a comfortable silence that fills the room. he’s back to browsing through his lecture notes, noting down valuable information and memorizing terminology. you don’t say anything either, but the sound of your nails typing at your keyboard blends well with his r&b playlist playing. sounds like you’re writing down an essay or report, depending on whatever your major is.

about half an hour into the silence, does he decide to break it. he looks over his shoulder to where you’re settled on his bed, “you good?” he checks up on you, and you let out a burnt out sigh. he knows exactly how you’re feeling.

“i guess,” you huff, twirling your necklace. your eyes are stuck on your screen, brows creasing into a scowl, “this shit is frying my brain though.”

“what are you writing?” he indulges, dropping his apple pen back onto his desk and spins in his seat to face you. maybe he’s also in due of a break— he’d rather be talking to you anyway.

“this crim report,” you answer, picking at your nail, “it’s not exactly hard but mad lengthy. i have to write a ten page report based on this article and how it contradicts societal norms.”

“ten pages?” geto whistles, rubbing at his chin. he’s settled deeper in his seat, naturally manspreading. you’re much better than him, he would’ve given up before even starting— reports were not his thing, “how far are you in?”

“i started this morning,” you hum, “so i’m four pages in.”

geto nods, “and when is it due?”

“tomorrow night.” you push your laptop off your lap. you close the screen shut and stretch out your legs, releasing a breathy moan as you relax your thighs. “i’ll do this shit later— my head’s starting to hurt.”

geto swears he’s never been so in sync in thought. he dismisses the idea of studying the second you had closed your macbook. probably a bad idea but at the moment, he couldn’t care any less, “want some entertainment?”

you cock a brow, “don’t say no stupid shit.”

“twenty one questions,” geto speaks nonetheless and finds himself beaming brightly when you scoff, “can’t a guy want to get to know you better?”

you ease yourself on his bed, slumping into his sheets as you exhale. you shift onto your side— a sinful curve at your side— tucking your knees and lean your head into your palm, “oh fuck off,” a breathless laugh and nanako makes her presence known, hopping right by you in the space between your body and the edge of the bed, “didn’t know you had a cat. she’s cute.”

“how’d you know she was a she?” geto wonders, surprised just slightly by how welcoming nanako was around you. she purred when you stroke at her fur, nuzzling further into your chest. nanako hated everyone— especially gojo, who unironically visited the most.

“instinct,” you shrugged but there’s a faint smile on your lips. not directed towards him, but his baby, “i also have a cat— he’s a fucking menace though.”

that’s one thing in common already, “like mother like son,” geto grins lazily when you flip him off mindlessly, and when you raise nanako in both your hands, he’s ready to warn you she isn’t a big fan of sudden movements— but when she mewls, the same sound she makes when geto brings home a new toy, the words die down in his throat.

he observes you both silently. you cradle nana as if she were a newborn infant, adoring and loving yet simultaneously careful and steadily. you’re cooing, calling her a sweet girl and rubbing at her ear, and nanako accepts you rather easily— too easily.

“woah.” was this those non-sexual turn ons people spoke about? for somebody so mean, you were oddly gentle with pets. he liked that— really liked that, so much that he pulls his phone out and snaps a photo of you two. but of course, because the universe loves to see him fumble, the flash goes off.

your head snaps to the side and he freezes. you narrow your eyes at him, slowly lowering nanako, “did you just—”

“so!” geto cuts you off, chucking his phone back onto his desk. it makes a loud cluttering sound, damn near knocks his drink all over, but ignores it, “my turn. what’s your cat’s name?”

“milo. and don’t cut me off—”

“milo the menace,” he cuts you off regardless, not wanting to have to decipher just what exactly possessed him to do that. he’s never done so, and he wasn’t about to explain why he’d done it just now. deflecting king! “i need to see the little guy. got any pics?”

you huff, extending a hand behind you to find your phone. when you clutch onto the device, you swing your legs off the bedside, always careful with nanako clinging to your lap. you lay her down on the floor, much to her dismay, before making your way towards him.

his eyes are stuck on your body before his mind can tell him to stop. not like it mattered much, your own eyes glued to your phone screen as you searched for the pictures he’d asked. you’ve got a matching tracksuit on— though the hoodie is cropped, thus exposing your navel piercing. he’d always had a thing for those, the pretty good jewel dangling below the button.

it didn’t help that your thong straps sat atop your waist.

he spreads his legs further open, and you stop right in between. for a moment, you’re stuck on your phone, and geto really wants to get those thighs straddling him. you look delectable— he’d pin your knees to your damn ears, sprawled on your back, and eat you out until you pleaded him to stop.

your hair was pulled back into a bun, and from this angle, he spotted scripture at the column of your neck. there was wording inked in arabic, and he made a mental note to ask you what it meant later.

geto leans back into his seat when you fold forwards, and he gets a good whiff of your vanilla scented perfume, tingling his senses in the best way, “found it?”

you nod your head, swiping through your gallery, “yeah, my bad,” you have a folder named ‘mimi’ and as expected, was filled off candid photos of your cat. he pays attention as you slide your finger on your screen, selfies of you both in the morning passing by.

“cute,” he isn’t talking about the cat, and his gaze flicks from the screen to your face. there’s still a considerate amount of space between you both, but he can see your eye colour much clearer this close up. you blink your lashes at him and he smirks, “anything else you wanna show me?”

you sniff, “don’t be gross.”

“i meant of milo,” geto definitely didn’t mean of milo. you cock a brow skeptically, and he mirrors the look, though the smile on his face grows, “what a cute lil thing,” his voice lowers and his words trail off. there’s a beat of a pause for a while, and his gaze falls on the plumpness of your lips, “you gonna let me pet your kitty?”

another beat of silence. you’re staring at his lips, and he wonders what you’re thinking. he can tell you’ve picked up on what he’s laying down (hopefully you in the next few minutes) but he can’t tell what your next move will be.

“depends. . .” a soft whisper, and he feels your breath fanning over his cupid’s bow. you flick your eyes back at him, and he finally understands the whole siren eyes shit. through lidded eyes, your stare is intense— simultaneously pulling him in closer while pushing him back. you’re toying with him, and the hand he slides up from your thigh to your ass is enough fuel. “you any good?”

he brings a second hand to the other ass cheek, and urges you onto his lap. you comply, looping your arms at the back of his neck. he feels your nails grazing at his scalp and he holds back a lethal shudder. your weight feels amazing against him— his hard on poking and making its presence well aware.

“i’d like to think i am,” he knows he is, but playing humble always goes a long way. he lets his hands run over the cup of your ass, trails back up to your hips, and slides a finger beneath the thong strap. when he snaps the material at your skin, your back arches and you press your chest against his own.

“well,” you exhale when he noses into the crook of your neck, right above your tattoo. he’s littering wet kisses at your hot skin, your taste ever so sweet against his tongue. god, you must taste divine. at your jugular, he’s able to imprint your perfume into his mind. “only one way to find out.”

geto hums at that, relishing in the way you moan at a particular suck, and focus on nibbling at that spot once more. you’re tilting your head for easier access, hips grinding against his own for better friction. your hands are soft and cautious— they trail from his nape down to his chest, and further down to his waistband.

he’s on go, ready for whatever timing you’re on. though, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out by the way your fingertip traces right above his pelvis, that you’re both on the same page. he drags his lips from the column of your neck up to your jaw, and stops right above your parted lips.

he has another cocky remark on the tip of his tongue, in typical suguru fashion, but you beat him to the chase, glossy lips pressing against his. the kiss is short and definitely leaves him wanting more when you pull back as soon as you’d leaned in— but you’re a mere centimetre away.

you whisper, not before another kiss, “don’t disappoint me, suguru.”

and he’s never ran into bed so fast.

☆ ☆ ☆

the door slams shut.

he’s left with a painfully hard reminder in his sweats that he fucked up bad. he thinks he dissociated a little between the labia flapping to the coat zipping. it’s only when he notices that instead of hearing lip smacking sounds, he hears bryson tiller’s lame ass (no shade, his ego is simply wounded), that you really left.

fuck.

geto rushes back to his bedroom, the walk of shame up the steps enough to make him want to jump off— as he takes out his phone, immediately goes through his contact list and presses on the name. it rings twice before the call gets picked up.

“yooo!”

“you still busy?” geto asks, voice hoarse as he flops down on the edge of the bed— his now empty bed. damn.

“nah, just dropped off wifey,” gojo replies. he hears music playing faintly in the back, as well as the sounds of honking. he must still be in the car, “why, what’s up?”

“i fucked up.” geto sighs, running a hand over his face.

“oh?” he isn’t surprised to find out gojo’s surprised. he’s still surprised by how the events turned out and it’s barely been ten minutes, let alone five. “say no more, i’m on my way.”

geto hangs up. he throws the phone away, before falling flat onto his bed. he picks up your scent on his sheets, your warmth slowly disappearing— another painful reminder he messed up. where he’s expecting a wet patch of anything on his duvets, he finds nothing. zip. nada.

his eyes fall shut, “shit.”

☆ ☆ ☆

“and that’s pretty much the gist of it all.”

he exhales a cloud of smoke. more silence. geto’s starting to get sick of all this silence. it was radio silence with you and now even more radio silence from gojo. his hand never stops to rub at nanako, who’s been serving as a cuddling partner in this grand moment of crisis. the only person to ever have his back.

so, geto knew that confiding in his best friend this secret of his would be risky for a multitude of reasons. for starters, geto never fucks up. this would be ultimate blackmail content for him, and geto honestly doesn’t blame him. for two, he was just giving gojo shit about never having eaten pussy. that’s just downright humiliating. and for three, he has a girlfriend who he doesn’t keep anything from. on top of that— his girlfriend is friends with the main culprit here.

overall a bad idea. he does it nonetheless, because satoru is his best friend despite it all. he isn’t too shocked when the silence is filled with bellyaching laughter, though.

“wait— i’m cryinggg,” more laughter. gojo’s now kicked his feet off the couch and is doubling forward. his shades bounce off his head and hit the leg of the coffee table. he doesn’t pause his laughing fit one bit, not even when geto throws a throw pillow his way.

it bounces off his big head and geto scoffs, bringing the joint back to his lips, “oh fuck off.”

“my fault man,” gojo apologizes though he doesn’t sound apologetic. he’s leaning forward to grab his shades back, and he’s back to swiping stray tears. “that was a good laugh— shit.”

geto hums at that, extending the blunt towards him,“glad to hear my misery has brought you entertainment.”

“see, you get it!” gojo jokes, welcoming the joint. seems like he got cocky, however, his laughing mood not quite over as he inhales. he quickly chokes on the smoke, which fades back into cackling, “oh shit—”

geto sneers, annoyance quickly rising, “quit fucking around or pass it back.” he was being pissy, yes, but his pride had been curb stomped. and it hadn’t even been an hour ago!

“nah, nah, i’m good,” gojo waves him off, despite his free hand tapping at his chest. he collects himself soon enough, and takes another hit. this time it’s successful. geto lowkey hoped it would get caught in his throat again.

“sooo,” gojo drags out, melting into the couch, “what now.”

“what now?” geto parrots.

“what’s the next move?” gojo elaborates, fingertip tapping at the blunt, and ashes fall into the tray. the end of the stick crumbles in the same way geto’s ego had earlier. “you’re gonna keep letting her think you suck at giving head?”

geto throws his head back and sighs tiredly, “what else is there to do?” he hears the sound of sizzling in the background, “i fumbled bad, bro. you don’t think she already posted about me in her girls’ private story?” more sizzling and exhaling, “i’m the storytime of the day!”

he feels gojo nudge his thigh with his foot. he looks back and the joint is presented to him. he gladly accepts it.

“what even happened?” gojo wonders. and oh boy, if that isn’t the question of the day. geto is still trying to find the answer to that. had it been out of nervousness? had he gotten too cocky? had it been her?

“i honestly wish i could answer that,” geto slips the roach into his mouth. “i didn’t feel nervous until after i realized she wasn’t fazed,” he drags out a hit and ghost inhales, “maybe it was a sign from above— to shut the fuck up sometimes.”

“maybe,” gojo snorts, throwing his legs over geto’s lap. nanako hisses at the intrusion, but the white haired man ignores her, “don’t let yourself go out sad like this. hit her back up— whatever happened to loving challenges?”

“what kind of fucked up ass challenge is this?” geto mumbles, mainly to himself.

“if i was in your shoes— which i’d never be,” because he’s gojo, he feels the need to add, “i’d put my pride aside and talk to her. like no homo shit, but you’re a great eater— yeah, no, i’m taking that back instantly.”

geto looks as horrified as he feels, “quickly, even.”

of course, gojo laughs but proceeds, “the point is, you know you’re good at it. everybody fucks up once in a while— don’t let it define you though. think of it as a minor setback for a major comeback— if you care enough, you’ll put your pride aside and do something about it. if you’re this down about it, then it must mean something to you.”

geto can’t tell anymore whether gojo’s talking about the failed pussy eating attempt or you. regardless, he knows there’s truth to his words. has to be the weed talking.

“and who made you the pussy connoisseur?” geto snorts, pressing the bud of his joint in the tray. it sizzles weakly as he kills it, starting to feel that high course through his veins.

gojo sighs dreamily, “why my lovely lady, of course.”

“looks like she taught you well,” geto relaxes himself into the tight space of the couch, settling nanako on his chest. it’s now his turn to nudge gojo with his foot, his sock-cladded toe digging at his jaw. “woulda never expected this from a rookie just a few months ago.”

“well duh,” gojo swipes his foot away, “i aced that course. got my phD in cunningulusophy and all. even won valedictorian.”

geto laughs, resting his lids. he was starting to feel sleepy, indica will do that to you, “enroll me in whatever class you took— i may need to slut myself out for extra credit. my prof’s a tough nut to bust.”

“intro to munch 101,” gojo nods his head, shutting his eyes close as well. there’s a comfortable silence that fills the air for a while. and despite the fact that his sight manipulated, he could hear the smirk dripping off his tone, “if you ever need a letter of recommendation, i got you— alumni’s honour.”

“oh fuck off,” a mixed harmony of laughter and vibrating chests.

☆ ☆ ☆

fun fact: suguru geto loves showers.

the aroma of cleanliness enhanced by thick fog. the scorching water droplets trickling down his skin, the vulnerability of his nakedness inside these four walls. he strangely feels most at ease, most raw in this moment of solitude.

he’s able to gather himself too. there isn’t much to accomplish in a shower once you’ve gotten rid of the day’s dirt. so, he likes to take the opportunity to think. to think deep and hard.

his mind’s all scrambled up. it’s been about three days since you were last in his apartment, two days since he’d thought about it, and a day since he last seen you (granted it’d been on your story, virtually, but still).

this has been the biggest feat he’s faced in a while. if he recaps it, this is what’s he gotten: he invited you over. you came the next day. he didn’t cater to you the sole reason you came. you didn’t mind. you both studied for a bit. he asked about your cat. you ended up on his lap. he ended up in bed with you. you ended up leaving with a chunk of his dignity.

that didn’t explain shit, but it did remind him of his failure. it reminded him that he’d finally met his match. it reminded him he needs to start backing his shit up. it reminded him of how good you smelled and tasted down there. it reminded him of how pretty you looked.

his cock twitches and he glances down. it also reminds him he never ended up cumming, too engrossed in his anxiety to jerk one out.

he feels as though the glass doors of his shower protect him from reality. he’s hard, though mortified, but still hard. he’d spent a long time (two days) suppressing the memory away, but there was no way to mistaken your taste on his tongue. how sweet you smelled. how soft you felt—

geto fists at his dick before he can help it. his free hand plants at the wall before him, and he works his wrist. he twists at his shaft slowly and closes his eyes— behind his lids are photographic memories of you on his lap. memories of you on his bed. memories of the scent of your panties. memories of your tits in his mouth.

sure, you’d made more sounds off the foreplay for the foreplay— but that didn’t take away how turned on he’d been. how his dick twitched in his boxers. how he’d humped the mattress. how he’d moan in your cunt.

“y/n,” geto moans your name, sinful yet hushed, his hand working faster. his thumb grazes his over slit and his gut drowns in heat. he wants a redo. he deserves a redo— you deserved a redo. “fuckkkk,”

next time, he’ll get it right. and if he doesn’t, then he’ll want to try again and again and again— until it ends with your cunt clenching around his tongue and his face sprayed vigorously in your essence. until your thighs tremble around his face, your hand clawing at his hair and your back arched off his bed. until his name bounces off his walls and echoes so loudly his neighbours complain.

he wants a redo.

he jerks back as he paints the tiles white. the joints in his hand ache, the water from the shower head getting colder. geto pants heavily, chest heaving as his load is released from him. his cum drips from the wall and into the drain at his feet— but his dick is far from well spent. if he spends another hour in the shower, it’s nobody’s business but his own.

suguru geto loves showers.

☆ ☆ ☆

“oh. you actually showed.”

“redo,” geto pants, having sprinted from his apartment. he’d spent the next three days after his shower incident wallowing some more— at some point, it just annoyed him. though slightly underwhelming, he was on his phone in bed a few minutes ago, going through his camera roll when he’d seen that picture he took of you and nanako. his feet guided him to his car before he could help it. choso helped him out with the address.

“redo?” you parrot his words, leaning against your doorframe. you crossed your arms over your chest, and it’s only then he noticed your appearance— flimsy camisole and pink lace panties. fuck, he wants a redo now.

“i want a redo.” geto repeats, but is quickly hit with a gust of wind. he hadn’t brought a jacket with him in the midst of his impulse, and goosebumps were beginning to form at his skin. he shoots his shot, “you ever planning on letting me in?” talk about deja vu.

“dunno,” you play along, eyes narrowing. “maybe if you ask nicely.”

swallow your pride, he hears gojo somewhere in the back of his mind. he shakes that thought off quickly. this desperation had to be bigger than a pride issue— he was ready to get on his knees and beg her to let him in. pride? that had been drained to the sewers the second he busted all over his shower days ago.

“lemme in and i’ll make it up to you,” geto tries instead, taking a step closer, “please?”

that seemed to be the correct answer as you push open the door to your apartment further. you turn your back and geto lets himself drink up your backside— he hadn’t seen it last time but you had dimples sitting right above your perky ass. he watches your hips sway left and right, and even tilt your head back, a smirk etched on your face, “you comin’?”

you will be, “cute.” his lips twitch into a small smile, and closes the door behind him.

☆ ☆ ☆

fool him once? shame on him.

geto doesn’t allow himself to make the same mistakes twice. if one fuck up is enough to tear him down for a week straight then why the hell would he do it again?

you’re sprawled on your back, legs spread with enough space to fit his body in between. his hands plant on either side of your face, his bulge pushed up against your core. he feels your warmth through these layers of clothes, and he rolls his hips greedily, feeling himself already grow addicted. your chin is raised high, lids blown open as you stare at him all doe-eyed.

his brows pinch in the centre of his forehead. that faux look of innocence you’re offering is doing wonders to his dick. your tits sit beautifully beneath your top, arms back on him as you pull him in closer, and he lets himself fall prey to you. for a moment, the tip of his nose bumps into yours, lips ghosting over the other, hips colliding to meet yours.

“mhm, that’s it.” you let out a sigh, throwing your head back into your pillows. there’s an opening to your neck calling his name, and geto wastes no time to latch his lips there. he slips a hand beneath your tank top, fingernails grazing over your skin to creep up to your mounds. he flicks a thumb over the bud and you sigh blissfully again— he then cups the flesh.

he loves the way you squirm when he kisses down your body, “i got you, pretty,” stripped from your cami, his lips leave open mouthed marks all over your skin. from the column of your neck, to your breasts, down your torso and past your navel, “let me take care of you.” the lower he gets, the more intense your rawness reeks— and it’s a damned good smell.

he lands right above your clothed pelvis, and he inhales sharply. he won’t make the same mistake this time, he can feel it. there’s something lingering in the air, something indescribable— but he’s confident he won’t. because when he skips your cunt in favour to pamper your inner thighs, dragging his wet tongue all over erogenous zones, he spots dampening right where your clit would be.

bingo.

your hand cradles his hair, and the other props your body up by the elbow. he glances up at you, cock throbbing against your mattress. your beauty still renders him speechless— runs his throat dry and makes his tongue feel heavy. he doesn’t want to decipher what this means either, and decides to conclude he’s simply thirsty for you.

“suguru,” you call at him. he blinks and the hand in his hair snakes down his neck, and pushes him deeper. his nose nudges at your throbbing clit, and his tongue peeks out of his mouth to lick at the damp material before he can help it. two fingers hook at your panties and push them to the side, revealing glistening folds. your slick drips between your crack and stains your sheets. he thinks he hears his stomach growl a little.

another swipe of his tongue, this time in contact with the raw you, and a breathless moan rips from you, “don’t disappoint me this time.”

and he feasts.

☆ ☆ ☆

gojo’s woken up to a notification from his phone.

it’s still pretty late— or maybe early, and his pretty girlfriend is miles away in lalaland. she snores softly, cuddling into his side, and gojo’s ready to cuss out whoever dares potentially meddle with his girl’s sleep. he’s starting to get grumpy.

when his phone undergoes face recognition, he lowers the brightness immediately. he swipes through his notification center and notices an attachment sent by geto.

now that peeks his interest. he presses on the message.

suguboo: [1 attachment]

suguboo: passed intro2munch101 with an A+ 🫡

gojo can’t help the laugh that leaves him, though is quickly quieted down when he feels stirring at his side.

“well i’ll be damned.”

yes, gojo is obsessed with his girlfriend. also 10k words on geto???

[frogwithgun]

You know what screw this

Y'all are getting a modern no curses au with Satosugu bc the idea just won't leave my head

Enjoyyyyyy

-----------------

There's a small corner store tucked away in a fairly busy part of the city. One that not many people frequent. But one that pays exceptionally well. This is the store Geto works at. Where he has worked for the past three years.

He doesn't mind it. He rather likes working there. Sometimes. Lately he's stopped liking it so much. The new manager is an asshole and thinks Geto looks unprofessional. Says all his piercings and tattoos drive away costumers.

If anything, they do the opposite. So many giggling school girls come in because they think he has a sort of bad boy charm to him. Of course he never tells the girls he isn't. And he never tells the girls hes not into girls either.

He would rather keep that to himself. Seeing how his last relationship left him as a single father. That prick left his daughters with him. But on the bright side, they are now his pride and joys.

Since then he's been on his own with his twin girls. Nanako and Mimiko. He loves them dearly. Like they were his own. They are why he forces himself to keep working at this dammed corner store.

Geto checks the clock again. This stupid job makes him go insane. But there's nothing he can do about it. He needs this job. So he forces another smile onto his face. If you can make it through this last customer, you can go home to the girls. He tells himself.

The next customer walks up to the counter as he's putting money into the register. So he starts up his usual little speech that he's memorized from the years of working there.

"Hello. Did you find everything you-" And he stops in his tracks. He actually stops. Because standing in front of him is the prettiest boy he thinks he's ever seen. Actually, the prettiest man he thinks he's ever seen.

He looks expensive. Dressed head to toe in some brands Geto has never even heard of. But he's sure they must have cost more than his apartment alone. I mean, how do you even say that brand? He has no idea!

The man has a slight shine to his lips. Pretty and pink. His hair is such an unusual color. A bright white that almost shines. And his eyes are covered by sunglasses, which do little to hide the amusement that dances in them.

Geto then thinks he must look awfully plain compared to him. Dressed in his work uniform and looking rather dull. His hair pulled into a lazy ponytail with all those piercings and tattoos on display.

Geto clears his throat and looks away. "Everything you were looking for?" He says in a calm voice. One that doesn't reflect how his heart pounds in his chest. Geto wonders why he looks so familiar. Has he met him before? Probably not.

The man chuckles and crosses his arms. "Almost. There's one thing I just couldn't find." Geto nods. "I'm sorry to hear that." Pull yourself together Suguru! This is embarrassing. Even for you.

God how long has it been since he last went on a date? Far to long. "Maybe you could help me find it?" Geto looks up at the man again. And then immediately regrets his decision. Has his face always felt this hot? Has it always been this red?

Geto nods. "Of course. What are you looking for?" The man smiles. A smile that Geto swears he's seen somewhere before. "Well, I was just looking for your number." And that, that makes Geto let out a noise somewhere between a squeal and a choke.

The man laughs and again Geto swears he's heard it before. "I'm sorry. I don't give out my number while I'm working." An automatic response that Geto has said a million times over. And a response he now wishes he didn't automatically give.

He would have given the man his number in a heartbeat. If his manager wasn't watching him like a hawk from the break room. God that man freaked him out sometimes.

The white haired man nods and puts a hand over his heart. "Ouch. I'm hurt. Suguru?" He says reading Getos name tag. Geto heart races even more. "Geto Suguru. A lovely name." Geto smiles and then immediately looks away. "Thank you." He mutters.

The man chuckles and nods. "No no, thank you. You don't see such a handsome man every day." He winks and Geto smiles. A smile that makes the other man stop. "Oh woah woah woah!" He takes his sunglasses off and reveals a pair of beautiful blue eyes.

They look almost like a clear sunny day. And Geto swears he could get lost in them. "You gotta warn a man before smiling like that." Geto laughs and begins to ring up his items. "Sorry. I didn't know smiling would startle you." He grins.

"Startle? No that was lethal." Geto smiles again. The man pays for his items and Geto bags them up. "Have a good night sir." He nods. "I definitely will now." He winks again and then leaves.

It is only after the man has payed for his things that Geto realizes who he is. When he is home. In his apartment. Sitting on the couch. With the girls. Then does he remember where he's seen that smile before. Where he's heard that laugh before.

"Oh my fucking God." He mutters and buries his head into his hands. The girls look at him in confusion. Geto looks at the girls and groans. "Gojo fucking Satoru asked for my number." Nanakos jaw drops. And Mimiko laughs.

Then Nanako shots up from her spot on the couch. "As in CEO of Six Eyes Inc. Gojo Satoru!?" Geto nods and Mimiko squeals. "Oh my God! Dad he likes you!" Geto, however, cannot share in their excitement.

And they notice. Of course they do. "Dad? What's wrong?" Geto lays face first onto the couch and loudly groans. Immediately the girls know what this means. "Dad. You cannot be serious."

Geto nods. "I told him I couldn't give out my number." Mimiko gently rubs his back while Nanako just sighs. "It's ok dad. Maybe he'll come back." Nanako on the other hand just goes on about how that was a stupid decision.

That night Geto spends far to much time watching romcoms with the girls. And eating ice cream. As per the girls request. And maybe to drown out the stupid decisions he made.

-----------

"Sir!" Cries a startled Ijichi. "You're back!" Gojo looks at him and nods. "Reports?" Ijichi nods and with a shaking voice tells him the results of this years fiscal quarter while Gojo sits at his desk.

Yet Gojo cannot pay attention. He finds himself thinking back to that encouter he had. In that small corner store. He'd passed by it a million times. Seeing that clerk there every time. Today he had finally talked to him. And he can't stop thinking about it.

Or those purple eyes. He takes his sunglasses off and rests his chin on the palm of his hand. A far off look in those blue eyes of his. "I'm attractive right?" Ijichi looks up from the reports and at Gojo. "I mean, I know I am."

Gojo stands up and walks over to the window. "People practically line up for even a moment of my time." Ijichi cannot tell where this conversation is going. "And they would trip all over themselves to give me their numbers, right?" Ijichi nods. Still unable to tell where this is going.

Gojo turns to look at him and Ijichi jumps again. His usual smile looks so forced. And that carefree look in his eyes is gone. "So why is it that I was rejected? Have I lost my touch? Am I not to the public's standards? What is it that is so unappealing about me?"

Ah, there is it. Ijichi thinks over his words very carefully. Gojo has been know to have sort of a temper. "Not at all s-sir! They must be a fool!" Gojo nods and sits at his desk again. "You're right. They must be." Gojo smiles again. "Ah Ijichi, what would I do without you!" That carefree look is back and Ijichi let's out a breath of relief.

But it isn't enough for Gojo. "Maybe I'll just buy the corner store. What was the name again? Doesn't matter. Ijichi? Make a deal with the owner. ASAP, yeah?" Ijichi nods. Gojo has also been rather impulsive. Nothing new of course.

And as for the girls, they have devised a plan to get Gojo and Geto together. It'll just take some time. And a whole lot of patience.

-----------------------

Tada! What do we think? Don't be afraid to let me know! I love all the notes and reblogs but I'd also like to hear your thoughts specifically.

I might also have a part two cooking up in here. But that depends on if this does well. If it does then part two will come out as fast as I can make it.

Love you guys! 💚💚

[fatuifucker]

third stream: desire for approval

[art cr: kuroume_1024 on twt]

bratty trans! streamer! scaramouche x dom fem-sex reader (they/them pronouns used for reader)

SUMMARY = how far would you go for attention?

WARNINGS = please view the sucker series masterlist for the full warnings! smut, penetration (reader giving), brat taming, asphyxiation, boobplay, use of the word “cunt”, use of pet name "angel" + "cumslut" + similar language, scara has nipple and navel piercings, womb tattoo, lingerie, self-sexualisation, codependence, unhealthy relationship, suicide ideation, self-harm, gender dysphoria, transphobia, attempted self-mutilation, implied domestic abuse

W/C = 2.6k

A/N = my word count is getting higher and higher be proud of me!! i was actually intending on writing a valentine's fic instead but uh ig you can take this as the late valentine's day fic instead lol. this may be my last x reader for a while for i would like to focus on more character x character. there are some zines im interested in participating and i want to have fics that i can use for my portfolio bc i don't think character x readers do good for zines lol oh yeah also little shoutout to the usernames featured in scara's stream!!

TAGS = @midnxght-sweet-time, @barbatosfavouritenun, @edenialucas, @huboi, @nejibot, @yumixxn, @teallapril

P-chan should be cute, pretty, handsome. Appearance-wise, they are perfect. Their gender doesn't matter but I want someone with a body like mine. I don't like nuisances so they have to be calm and collected. They have to be rational so they can comfort me and stop me from making impulsive decisions.

I want them to be independent but not too independent. They'll need me to command them like a pet. Maybe like a bunny? They could be that innocent-looking type but is secretly horny for me hehe. I'll have to work out the details later. But it's fine even if they are unsure about their personality. People like that tend to rely on the self-assured more. Maybe I could even dress up in the clothes I can't wear.

They won't be able to live without me.

—

“Ohh…it’s soh gud,” Scara moans, her tongue trailing up the melting popsicle before sucking on it. “Mmm…I might get addicted...”

The stream chat floods with comments; majority of it being provocative remarks. Just the reaction she intended. Although Scara hates to be sexualised by her fans, she knows that suggestive content rakes up the viewer count the fastest.

Almost halfway to a month, yet she hasn’t even reached half a million yet. She doesn’t have much time so even if that means that she has to whore herself like this…

“Mmm it’s sticking all over my fingers…” Scara licks the vanilla cream off her fingers, exaggerating her noises as she continues sucking on the popsicle. “It’s a good thing I took off my gloves. Or else it would have been allll over me.”

cauldron-of-anon: you know what else is creamy and drips all over

eunchaeluvr: I LOVE ICE CREAM

bubiblossom: god Im so happy I was born

cinshaberu: big…

leefrfr: that looks good

yourmomsucksme: YESYESYESYESYES

vermillionbun: THANK YOU SCARA

Scara giggles as she licks a strip up the popsicle. Hm, but it’s about time she ended the stream. All this sugary sweet stuff is cloying…ugh. She finishes the popsicle sensually and cleans her hands with a wet wipe.

“Thank you for the meal, it was delicious. I have to meet up with a friend so I’ll respond to the superchats another time.” Scara blows a kiss, mouse hovering over the ‘end stream’ button. “So long suckers!”

—

You’ve reached another milestone today. It’s funny how the other day, both you and Kunihiko were worried about his stagnancy. Today, he has surpassed 50k subscribers. Since this genre of streams garners the most viewers, maybe it’s okay to ask him to do more sexy streams. Probably not too much though. You don’t want Scara to come out as just another female streamer selling her body for clout. Conspiracy theories seem to do well…that goes for her ‘Scara Tries Things’ series. You’ll have to make her work harder these upcoming days, especially since she’s been slacking off lately. You’ve been trying not to push Kuni too hard but—

You blink as your phone is snatched away from you. “You’re still doing work?”

“Yes, that’s my job as your producer.” You stare at Kuni.

Your boyfriend scowls, grabbing your forearm. “Right now I need you to do your job as my partner.”

You don’t make any effort to resist as Kuni drags you like a ragdoll, grunting when he tosses you onto the bed. You sit there, waiting for Kuni to finish changing and give you your orders for the night. In the meantime, you occupy yourself by looking around.

Kuni didn’t have any requests for a themed room so you chose a classy one. The room was laden with rich reds and blacks, a jacuzzi and a drawer stocked with condoms, lube, all the essentials. In truth, it looked like any expensive hotel room, except that the fee for this one was much cheaper that any 5 star hotel. The good thing about love hotels is that they are soundproof — meaning Kuni is going to make you fuck him all night so he can savour the experience of moaning as loud as he wants without alerting the neighbours. Speaking of which, he wanted you to wear something, didn’t he? It should be the one on the table…

Unveiling the contents of the paper bag reveals an angel-themed lingerie set. The bodysuit is made out of fine white satin, decorated with ribbons at the shoulder straps, tulle around the hips, and etched with cloud patterns. Matching the set of white ribbon garters are sheer cloud-covered unattached sleeves that look like it extends past your elbows, looping around the middle finger to partially cover the top of your hands and leaving the rest bare. Without batting an eye, you shed your clothes off and dress yourself in the gifted outfit.

“Are you done?” Kuni calls from the bathroom after a few minutes.

“Yes.”

You sit on the bed, watching as your boyfriend exit the bathroom. A devilish grin rests on his carmine-lined lips as he sashays in black stilettos. He’s dressed head to toe in black leather — from the bodysuit, to the arm sleeves and stockings — but the bodysuit specifically emits a sort of polychromatic glow, shifting to a shimmering purple under the fluorescent light. The whole outfit hugs his body tight, squeezing his body in certain areas that pulls attention to the exposed skin spilling out his thighs and his chest… Your gaze darts back to his eyes, heart thumping upon realising that he is right in front of you.

Kuni chuckles. “What? You embarrassed?” He takes your hand, placing it on his chest. “Don’t be. I wore this just for you, you know?” Entranced, your eyes follow the movements of his other hand, watching as he unzips the zip on his waist, pushing down the waistband to display the pink, heart-shaped tattoo on his pelvis; resembling those typical womb tattoos you see in hentai. “You’re my sweet, obedient angel. And you’re going to reward this naughty succubus for working so hard for the both of us.” Kuni shoves you down on the bed, letting you sit in your state of shock as he purrs into your ear. "Get your toys. They are on the bedside table."

Sure enough, there's your bullet vibrator and buttplug; the ones Kuni asked you to bring today. You turn the motor to its maximum speed, goosebumps all over your skin as it makes contact with your sex. Next goes the plug, which you make sure to lubricate before inserting it into your puckered hole. When you lift your head, Kuni’s stinging violet gaze is locked upon you, a smirk on his carmine lips as he plays with his covered clit. You immediately turn your attention down, removing his underwear with hurried fingers and latching onto the swollen bub.

Soft thighs wrap around your head as your tongue switches its focus on his leaky cunt. Juices drip all over your tongue as you dive into him, eating him like a gourmet buffet. The whir of the vibrator reverberates off the insulated walls, rousing the fire in your groin that stupefies you into shaking your ass, savouring the sensation of your hole squeezing around the plug. Your eyes flit back up to your lover, his lust-filled eyes fixed onto you. His cunt oozes with ambrosial nectar, and you lap it up like a starved creature, goaded by his saccharine moans. A squeal reveals the arrival of his high, manicured nails digging into the sheets before vitality deserts him, leaving him laying limp on the bed.

The strained, rapid breaths becomes the only source of sound in the room once the motor is turned off. What fills the space of silence is rustling, followed by a click and then followed by a wet noise of viscous liquid. Kuni spreads his legs as your body hovers over him, a tired look on his face. He senses your hesitation.

“Don’t give that look,” he sneers. “I already gave you permission to ruin me. Unless…” he juts his bottom lip out, eyebrows lowered in a display of mockery. “you’re backing away now because you realised you can’t do it. No matter how cool, calm and controlled you think you are, I’m the one who holds dominion over you. Without my orders, you’re hopeless. You don’t know what to do because I’m the one who holds the power. Without me, you’re— ah!!”

His back arches into a crescent as the strap spears him without warning. Without giving him time to adjust, you’re grinding your hips against his, slamming the cock in and out while he cries in pleasure.

“Yes, yes, yes! Use me! Break me! Fix me! Oh god, please, please, please—!”

The force of your thrusts jostles Kuni against the bed, incandescent light shifting the polychromatic purples of his collar that just beckon you to wrap your hand around the thin neck. The added pressure around his neck makes him mewl in delight, hands guiding your free hand up his hips, past his navel piercing, and landing on his chest.

“Touch my boobs…” he rasps.

“I don’t recall giving you permission to order me around,” you say with a bite in your voice, tugging on one of his nipple piercings to make him squeak. “Do I have to punish you for your insolence?” Nonetheless, you turn your attention to his chest, peppering it with kisses and hickeys, suckling on his nipples, all to make the little brat writhe under you. 

“(Name)...” he whines. “Punish me, ruin me, I don’t care! I don’t care about anything as long as you need me— aah…think of me and no one else! Want only me, love only me, love me, love me, love— haaah~!! I’m cumming, I’m—!”

His orgasm is signified by a shower of translucent strings streaming out of his soaked cunt, essence staining the floor and sheets in splatters. Kuni wheezes for air once you release the hold on his neck, arms wrapping around you as he basks in the momentary peace.

“Are you okay? Was I too rough?”

“I…I can do it again…” he says in between breaths, pushing himself up with his elbows. “Come on, I’m your…I’m your succubus, aren’t I? You���you have to punish me…”

You shrink back. “Kuni, I really think you need a break—”

A sudden weight thrown onto you interrupts your monologue. You blink, seeing your smirking boyfriend has switched positions with you; with you now underneath him while he’s on top of you.

“Oh I’m much stronger than you think. This body is curated for you…for all of your desires and wants. So, do your worse,” He cusps your cheek, lips covering over yours. “and dig in.”

Kuni kisses you with fervour, determined to infect you with his lust. An unwelcome sense of unease churns instead.

—

The sharp pain makes Kuni's body tingle with adrenaline, foggy eyes watching scarlet sanguine spill out the wound. His chest rises and falls as he pants, shaking fingers bringing the bloodied blade to slash an untouched portion on his wrist. He lets the high consume him, a penumbra that suppresses the emotional turmoil threatening to boil over the messed up pot that is him. Yet that high is all-consuming, and it begs for more. Cloudy indigos flit up to the mirror, a blurry figure reflecting back his ugly existence and that ugly chest that proves of his inferiority as a man.

"Cut your hair? But you’re the most beautiful with long hair."

"Where did you get those shorts? A pretty girl like you should wear dresses."

"Why does she dress like that?”

"Huh? But…you’re a girl."

Shut up, shut up.

”Kuniko, do you really think that anyone in this world will accept you as a boy?”

Shut up, shut up, shut up shut up shut up—

"Do you want to bleed out?"

Kuni ignores the way his raised hand trembles, grumbling as he glares at the person standing by the door. "Wasn't intending to. But if I die from blood loss, it wouldn’t be a bad thing either."

"I would be upset." You take a step forward, stopping when he inches the razor closer to his chest. "You know, if you wanted to get rid of them, we could always visit a professional. Surgery would be safer–"

“Do you think I give a shit about my safety?!” Kuni screams, beads of tears pouring like a waterfall. “I want to die! I don’t want to exist anymore, why don’t you get it?!”

“What makes you think that I don’t?”

“You…you…” Kuni swallows, his dry mouth making speech a burden.

“Maybe I don’t want to live either," You say. "but I still want you to survive.”

Kuni laughs dryly. “How selfish of you.”

“How ironic of you of all people to say that."

He doesn’t respond to that.

“I need you just as much as you need me. We can’t survive without each other.”

“I know.”

“I’m here because you want me to stop you. You want me to make you feel better.”

“...Yes.”

“How do you want me to do that?"

“...Hold me."

A trace of warmth swathes him; barely there but still enough. Kuni leans against the cold wall, quiet sobs echoing through the tiny room, caged in this claustrophobic space. The air is cold and suffocating, but he knows it will be okay because you’re here. It will be okay, because (Name) is here. (Name) is always with me. (Name) can never leave me. He closes his eyes, letting your gentle scent waft into his nose. He takes apart the scent: an amalgamation of lavender, sandalwood and sage, like the aromatherapy candles he lights. If he focuses, he can feel your warm, calming breaths brushing against his ear, reminding him that you’re there. You’ll always be there for him, and nothing will change that. It takes a while but slowly, his breaths even out, settling into a steady cadence.

You let go of him. His eyes are fixed on the floor.

“Are you okay?” You ask, caressing his dishevelled locks.

His gaze doesn’t leave the floor. “I can handle more than this.”

The sound of muffled shouting interrupts the quiet conversation. Kuni winces, looking at the direction of the disturbance. He recognises the voices but tunes out the repetitive string of words, palms cupping his ears while his back slides down the wall. The voices get louder and louder, accompanied by clashes of porcelain and the collide of wood against other household objects. He doesn’t register that he’s shaking until the familiar warmth surrounds him again.

“Let’s watch KAngel.”

—

[You received a text from Kuniku<3!]

Kuniku<3: (name)

Kuniku<3: ur asleep right?

Kuniku<3: couldnt sleep so i went out for a walk lol

Kuniku<3: i brought along the switchblade u bought me

Kuniku<3: in case a perv wants to catch a case hehe

[Kuniku<3 is typing…]

Kuniku<3: hey

Kuniku<3: you know i hate being alone right?

Kuniku<3: whenever you leave me for too long

Kuniku<3: im afraid that you realised you dont need me after all

Kuniku<3: i have to rely on you

Kuniku<3: but do you still need me?

Kuniku<3: or do i have to make you depend on me more?

[Kuniku<3 is typing…]

Kuniku<3: i want to disappear

Kuniku<3: i want to die

[Message Deleted]

Kuniku<3: hope my favourite cumslut got a good rest <3

Kuniku<3: i’ve been doing a good job right? sooo u will give me a break right?

Kuniku<3: i took the liberty of picking date ideas so what do u wanna do??

[Your answer]

[teddybeartoji]

mickey for starters i have a confession to make… even after all these months whenever i search your acc i ALWAYS accidentally type “teddybearmick-“. toji is your teddybear but he better understand that you’re mine 🫶🏼

OKAY SO im a cartilage piercing virgin because i am. scared of infections 😞 but i was wondering if you had a conch piercing? if you do - how would you rate the pain / healing process? and second, how would you compare it to a helix? i want one sooooooo bad 😭

TEDDYBEARMICKEYYY PLEASEEEE YOU'RE SO CUTEE I WANNA BITE YOUR CHEEKSSS>:333333333333333 yk i think toji is somewhat okay with sharing me but i think he'd like to thirdwheel us. listen listen listen he just likes the company okay,, he'd never admit that sitting quietly on the armchair while we play video games together on the couch is very relaxing for him. i don't think he'd mind that at all!!!!!!!!!!!! he will want me back for the night though.. i fear he gets very clingy and grumpy smhhh he is a grown man (i'm so giddy just thinking abt him being clingy scar i'm so doomed i love him)

OKAY SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO . FIRST THINGS FIRST SCAR . my ears are very sensitive😭😭😭PLEAAAASEEE BEAR THAT IN MIND OKAY and i do really mean that they're sensitive bc i am very good with pain overall. i've broken bones i've had fractures, i am always a breath away from falling asleep during tattoos (mind you i have one that reaches from my hip to the side of my boob so it's a a pretty big one in a rather tender area and . i was still fighting off sleep)(i was also horny but that's another topic) ANDDDDD i have a belly button piercing which was literally like a pinch too okay i am veeery good with pain

except when it comes to my ears😭😭😭 i have seventeen ear piercings and i have hated getting every single one of them. actually i've taken two of them out so there are 19 holes in my ears in total. no pain.. no gain.. (i say through tears) AAANYWAYYY i do have a conch piercing and it is, in fact, very super sexy:3333333333 it is also the second most painful one out of all of them:33333333333333333333

the cartilage is just very thick there yk? so it's definitely like a very uncomfortable piercing to get. i also need to mention that this is like one of the few things that actually make me feel squeamish lmao i can't LOOK at somebody getting a piercing like the mere idea of something going through my ear is making me tweak a little SOO i think that just made everything even worse for me

i can't really talk abt my healing process just bc all of mine always heal the same way - they're fine at first and then after the first two weeks or so they swell up very badly and stay like that for like five days and then it's fine . healed . hgasdghsaghdhgsaghas so it was the same with the conch one too, it ended up swelling so bad that you couldn't even see the bar anymore and yk they put a longer bar at first for that very same reason lmao IT HASN'T GIVEN ME ANY GRIEF AFTER THAT THOUGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i feel like my older helix piercings have acted up a million times more than my conch so that's good i think..

you can always use salt water if it does get infected!!!!!!!!!!! there's this thing called Humer Nasal Spray idk if you have it where you are but it's literally just salt water and yes it's meant for your nose but it works wonders for infected piercings!!!!!!!!!!! they even sell it at the salon i go to lmao if you don't have it though then you can put like a teaspoon of salt into a lukewarm cup of water and then either dip a rag or smth in it and then hold it to your ear,, i always thought this was kind of painful though so i always end up just tilting my head to the side and literally just dipping my ear into the cup . i don't have a specific time for you i always just do that for as long as i have the patience lmao

BUT BUTBUTT NOWW!!!!!!!! A LITTLE PLUS FOR YOU!!!!!!!! SO YOU WOULDN'T ACTUALLY GET ALL SCARED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i was there when my friend got a conch too and for her . it was like nothing. she didn't pull a face or anything and she literally asked the piercer whether she could get another one right away????????????????????? i was kind of horrified lmao aaaand genuinely can't remember her whining about the healing process later on either and we were in classmates and we sat together at all times so i definitely would've heard it yk??

SOOOOOO ALL IN ALL sadly it really just depends on the person i fear. but . no pain no gain okay this is what i always tell myself. you couldn't fucking pay me to take them out rn btw i had to do that when i was getting a dental xray lmao that was horrible i'm never taking them out i looked so weird and BORINGGGGG piercing are so sexy they're worth the pain (unfortunately)

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 21

welcome to the twenty-first fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

1. Most Artists are Messy by @shipsgalore

Lance is drawing a complicated flower on the base of Keith’s wrist and it makes his lips pull up into a smile despite the panic. They’re always flowers when it comes to Lance. He uses them in everything he does, and usually doesn’t even know he’s doing it. Keith can count on one hand how many times the doodles on his arms haven’t been of flowers.

i love this one because keith & lance are just blatantly and clearly autistic. it’s wonderful. it’s sweet and fluffy and it’s a modern au, which as y’all know is my jam, and the last few paragraphs do this specific thing with sentiment repetition that genuinely gets to me every time

2. Be Alive With Me Tonight by @caesaria [EXPLICIT] [ABO]

When the Blade of Marmora requests assistance on an information gathering mission, Lance and Keith go undercover as a bonded alpha and omega pair. At first, it seems like this is going to be more like a vacation than a mission – right up until everything falls apart and they realize how unprepared they really are. Now, Lance and Keith have to fight to not only survive, but to make it out together. They’ll have to rely not only on their skills as Paladin, but the bond they’ve created and nurtured between them.

okay i gave this one the explicit warning bc there are chapters that are explicit, but tbh the scenes are skippable if that’s not ur thing. now this fic is an EPIC. truly. its a quarter million words and the plot is breathtaking, the worldbuilding is iconic and the romance is like HOLY SHIT. this is a novel, and better yet its a KLANCE novel, so. highly recommend if you have a day or two to read.

3. roses by @renyoi

Lance is always getting flowers for Keith, so Keith decides to return the favor--with a little help, of course.

written for prompt #4 of klance valentine's week!

keith is hilarious here. just in general but here especially and i love him. he wants to pamper lance so so badly and hes so straightforward and earnest!! and allura’s character in here is also excellent. i will leave u with this one line from the fic that made me laugh it loud: “ The next day, the sun rises to Keith Kogane, dressed all in black (that’s all that was clean, okay?!), loitering around in front of Alluring Blossom, the 5-star-rated “I’ve never had such a delightful bouquet delivered to me in my entire life!” flower shop of a woman named Allura Altea. Keith automatically trusted her because he loves people that also have alliteration in their names. “ king. love him

4. here it comes by rideahorse

Keith watched a lonely droplet of water fall from Lance’s soaked bangs, curving a path over the bridge of his nose and then pooling—almost teasingly so—at the bow of his lips.

“I feel like I won, for some reason,” Lance said quietly.

what have i told yall about fics from 2016!!! this fic made me SMILE and im not usually a fan of like senior year of high school fics but holy shit!! holy SHIT!! this fic had me smiling and kicking my feet and losing my mind. i will leave u with the note i put on my bookmark (spoiler warning):

a couple things: 1. “lance is a bad influence” and “lance is a pretty princess (tm)” are god tier tags so thanks for that 2. keith with a tongue piercing. must i say more. 3. i miss keith gyeong that was an excellent era 4. the couple tattoo moment had me taking a Moment 5. here’s how i imagine the aftermath of this: shiro: i saw u ditched prom. are you okay? keith: yeah actually! lance convinced me that we have to have a wild final night, so we went to a High School Party (tm), i decked a guy for lance and your honour, we panic drove away, went skinny dipping in a pool, got caught, ran away naked for two blocks, went to sonic in another town, got matching tattoos, fucked in the backseat of my car, and watched the sunrise :)) shiro: shiro: shiro: shiro: i’m sorry. what were those last parts keith: yeah i know you really like sunrises we probably should have invited you :// but it was kind of an us thing i’m sure you understand :) shiro: KEITH

anyways i laughed

5. if silence was a song by @angstinspace

“It’s … Your show is on so late at night,” Keith tries to explain, as if Lance didn’t know this already. “I guess I was just wondering why that is.”

A crackling silence answers him, and Keith’s stomach sinks. Did Lance hang up? Keith can’t exactly blame him.

But then he hears Lance make a noise––a short huff of breath that might have been either an impatient sigh or a quiet laugh … Keith has no clue.

“That’s the reason you’re calling? To complain about my time slot?”

or, Keith starts anonymously calling Lance's college radio show and develops an unexpected crush.

@catnippackets did a comic of this i believe, and it literally never leaves my head. yall know the trope where one person gets a phone call and halfway through they sigh wistfully and say “god i wish you were here” and then the other person smiles so viscerally it can be felt through the phone and they say “look behind you” and theyre THERE?????? that makes me lose it every time. i love this fic

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!    

[thecherrygod]

i havent been into it for too long but im kinda surprised i havent seen a harrykim good ol classic florist and tattoo artist au

like yeah im not so sure how the logic of either of them being in those proffessions would work but im talking mostly aesthetics here

like. harry being a florist just. does something to me. like when kim is like he needs hobbies if you get the gardening gloves he suggest gardening is just very good. maybe its a bit of like instead of becoming a teacher first hes a florist first and stays there. or when he was a teacher they had some of a garden in there and he learned and then maybe got a part time job at a florist to support him on his teacher salary bc those usually arent enough. also i think he still has at least some of his adiction issues but not necesarily to the in game level (maybe amphetamines to be able to keep up with his lifestyle also maybe he grows weed but less relevant until later). and maybe he actually got to marry dora and is actually divorced here. working too much, not making enough money, and when back at home hes still an addict, maybe the relationship lasted more but still it never got good enough to keep.

and kim... theres a few options. either undercover just being on the tattoo shop somehow which is like. not the most sense making but still a possibility. or.. he never became a cop, either, got too disappoined by the system early on, noticed the injustice, but realized that it didnt matter what he did it wouldnt be enough. or he did join the rcm for a bit and then quit bc of that, maybe also eyes died in here too and that was the last straw for him leaving. maybe hes not necesarily the guy doing the tattoos, but more of the designs and piercings (i assume its a million times easier doing piercings than tattoos. i dont mean that it doesnt require a technique too tho but getting a needle through skin for a piercing seems easier than having the pulse to work on a permanent piece in someones skin with specific pressure with consistence, and if he was a cop and quit maybe he has shakier hands.... idk. i dont know how stuff like this works generally ngl. also idk. can you have a tattoo.. parlor? and do designs but not the tattoos themselves? id assume you can but no idea)

ok yeah something like that maybe. and also the shops are either side by side or right across the street. i can imagine harry walking through the tattoo parlor and looking at the designs and looking at a few plant based designs and liking them and just. going in. not exactly for a tattoo or anything but more to like. know how it is and maybe meet the artist and then he sees kim which i imagine with a lot of tattoos and piercings which is sort of whats fueling this at this point bc i wasnt gonna think about it for too long but now im too deep into it and like i imagine this kim as.. kind of distant as he tends to be, will try to hide the fact he was a cop bc at this point hes not proud of that, he just likes making designs while listening to speedfreaks fm, which you can hear from outside the parlor while walking on the streets, but he is cool, and if you talk to him he will talk to you, hes just maybe awkward but also he is kinda weird (which has harry like 👉👈)

and this was just going to be me saying "man i havent seen any of this" and instead i sort of made my take on it and it got longer than i expected. anyways!!!

[nagimayo]

do u guys wanna see some of my trans girl mayoi headcanons? no? well TOO BAD here they are anyway

blushes insanely easily like her face is just red 24/7

the little star clip was a gift from Aira who said he thought of her when he saw it so he had to get it for her. it's the first gift she's been given by anyone at ES and she wears it literally every day

she wears a face mask in public/around people she doesn't know very well bc she's nervous they'll find her teeth weird/scary and also bc she prefers hiding most of her face when she's not onstage or with friends

more ear piercings and very cute jewelry

eyebrow piercing and under the mask her tongue is pierced too. for the slay factor

THE newly-out trans girl tattoo choker. i love when the dolls wear these it sparks joy in my soul so she gets one

kuromi hair ribbon, she is not immune to sanrio merch and does not spend her L$ wisely

pretty floral tattoos, they make her feel feminine and the pain is a good outlet just like with piercings

bandaid bc she's clumsy sometimes

she wears the she/her pin early in her social transition and for the most part the other idols just roll with it. arashi declares them sisters for life

this isn't a headcanon it's actual canon but this girl can COOK!!!!! she is an EXCELLENT chef and she and niki get together sometimes to swap techniques and recipes

i have a million trillion more of these but this lil card edit was so much fun that i HAD to infodump about her here. it's MY blog and YOU made the mistake of following it so now you have to witness my insanity xoxo love u bye

[willowser]

edit to add: it's because of this incredible fanart that i got this brainworm

no bc i need to talk about this, like i'm NOT DONE like bakugou as your next door neighbor !! since you were a child !! and it's a nice neighborhood and his parents seem well adjusted and have clean-cut professional jobs and hold dinner parties with your parents and they're always bringing something delicious for the neighborhood new year's get together.

BUT THEIR SON IS A LITTLE HELLION. the kid that had a mohawk in middle school and made fun of you for not using cuss words until you were like 13. and he's not a bad kid, bc he still is at the top of all his classes and never breaks the law or anything -- but he comes to school after his 16th birthday with a piercing through the middle of his lip and the clothes he wears are black and baggy and he drives an old beat up, cherry red shelby mustang and you're pretty sure he got the tattoo on his forearm before he was 18.

and your dad is like. absolutely not. don't even look at that boy. can't even be caught dead with him.

you've been neighbors for almost your entire life, but it's not like you're really friends. hung out together when there was no one else and your dad was too busy talking about the upcoming season for fishing and golfing to notice. your mom doesn't mind so much bc he's really not terrible, just a wicked little brat, and the week he started playing the drums, nobody in a five mile radius got any sleep. still blares music with open windows and turns it up even louder when you wave at him from across the lawn to shut up.

at graduation, he accepts his diploma -- summa cum laude, of course, the little shit -- and almost gets kicked off stage for sticking his tongue out in the picture. wears all this smudged liner under his eyes and gels his hair out at a million different angles. bc he's the WORST. and your parents try to throw a combined graduation party bc it's easier to plan, but of course bakugou could care less. doesn't even show up until the very end, after most of everyone is gone. counts all the money from the congrats grad! cards he got and then tells you,

"'m gettin' the fuck out of here after this."

you don't think he means the party.

"hate this shit," he grumbles, and you're surprised that he's even talking to you. in his backyard, in front of the beautifully built fire pit for those cold fall nights. it's still hot in june, but he lit it out of spite, bc he doesn't mind the heat. "never gonna be like these fuckin' losers, worried about what everyone else thinks of me 'n shit. oh the HOA will be upset if we decorate the lawn with skeletons, fuck you."

it makes you laugh--he kind of always does, with how crass he can be--and he looks at you, sitting in the wicker chair beside him. he looks like he's glowing in the fire light, liner looking even darker with the shadows on his face. he's traded the stud in his lip for a little hoop in his septum, another in his eyebrow almost hidden in his hair.

"know your ass is gonna stick around here," he says it like an accusation, frowning. "gonna fuckin'--look for some prince charming, tuxedo mask douchebag. shack up and buy a house in the hills or somethin'."

"maybe," you shrug, earning a scoff from him. now that high school is over, the future seems so--open ended. you thought you'd be prepared by now, after all that your parents have tried to instill in you since elementary school, but. you don't know. maybe you don't want to go to law school. "or maybe i'll--join a rock band. dye my hair pink and split my tongue, or something."

you stick your tongue out for emphasis and he watches you closely, sticking his own out in response. when you laugh again, he shuffles in his seat and looks away.

"whatever." bakugou snorts, "you don't know the first thing about bein' in a band. i'd have to teach you everything."

"oh, you think you could?"

"hell yeah," he grins, wicked, all sharp teeth and sin. "learn from the fuckin' master."

"oh my god," you roll your eyes, but smile at him anyway. his eyes dart down to the curve of your lips, the apple of your cheeks, and then he's looking away again. speaking into the fire instead.

"i mean i guess i could, if you wanted, or whatever." the only fully painted fingernail remaining on his left hand is his pinky, and he picks at with interest. "if you--wanna come with me, not like i give a shit."

you try to picture it, you and him. katsuki. in the passenger seat of his car with nothing but clothes in a backpack, money stuffed in your pockets. wherever he's going--you don't even know--but it couldn't be too bad, with him. stopping in a motel when the driving gets old, buying snacks to feed him so he doesn't have to take his eyes off the road. he could be there when you get your first tattoo, and even though he'd make fun of you no matter what you choose, you don't think there's anyone else you would want there but him.

"when are we leaving?" you ask it to the sky, open and unending. dark and dazzling just like him.

from the corner of your eye, you can see him look at you for a long time before he snorts again, soft. disappointed, almost, because he knows it could never be. your fate has already been sealed, molded, starting from the day you moved in next door, and no matter how much you'd love to throw caution to the wind and follow him--it's just a dream.

"first thing tomorrow," he murmurs, and your heart thumps harder in your chest. so violent that it hurts. when you look at him, his face is turned up to the sky, too. "don't be late."

[kakashihasibs]

Okay so I'm answering this with a screenshot so i can block you if i need to later. no offense bud but i kinda doubt the "/genq"-ness of your question.

The irrational thought was my neighbor was paying any attention to the presence or lack of presence of a dick. My neighbor doesn't give a shit if i have a bulge or not. He's a nice guy and he's gay too! :D plus he was busy hugging Leia bc he's one of Leia's most favorite people.

BUT! Surprise surprise! it's not wholly irrational bc /if/ my neighbor does notice (and he was an asshole) it could endanger me. Small little things like that can be noticed (however unlikely) and someone might clock me. And that's really the root of that thought. I'm always worried someone is going to clock me and act on it.

But the root of your question really seems like a "why dont you pray the queer away and you'll be so much happier"

Sure if i could just therapy/pray away being queer (both trans and ace/gay!) I would deal with a lot less worry. I wouldn't have to worry about my parents rejecting me or a cop seeing my ID and hate criming me. I wouldn't have been hate crimed or have gotten corrective rape threats. if only i did as my doctor told me and go to therapy to realize my beauty as a woman so i wont break my poor mother's heart. (Yes a doctor literally told me this. Nearly killed myself afterwards bc it was just such a helpful and thoughtful thing to say /sarcasm 🙄)

Bottom surgery, like any surgery is dangerous, but it is not uniquely dangerous. My surgeon has a LOT of experience and is very skilled. I'm not worried about it anymore than i was worried about top surgery (which for the record top surgery was life SAVING).

But like bud why do anything if there is a "safer alternative?" Why go rock climbing when it's so dangerous? Why drive to see family when driving is so dangerous? Why get tattoos or piercings!? There's risk!

Why get a major surgery that will greatly increase your life satisfaction instead of going through traumatizing conversion therapy? Geez bud idk 🤷‍♂️ maybe i enjoy making my body mine. Maybe i dont want to or have to be satisfied with what other people say i should be, look like, act like.

Maybe i just think I'll look hot with a dick. Maybe i just want to feel safer in public places. Maybe maybe maybe. I have a million and one reasons for wanting what i want and no amount of fear mongering or concern trolling will deter me.

The universe saw fit to give me myself and i will create a self that is home. Full of as much art and scars as it takes to do that.

---

Edit to reply/add (bc i dont want to make this rebloggable):

While you are correct about this, it took several years of therapy and navigating medical politics, i actually purposely avoid making an argument/point based in medical necessity.

The closest i get to mentioning medical necessity is when i say "surgery that will greatly increase [my] life satisfaction"

Bc mainly if it is merely a problem of medical necessity/treatment then anon's point has a stronger leg to stand on. If i need medical intervention then /why not/ try conversion therapy 1st? Both are "medical interventions" after all and conversion therapy is cheaper and appears less risky.*

Instead my point is based in bodily autonomy. That bottom surgery is my choice and my risk to take on. That regardless of medical necessity, I have chosen to get bottom surgery and that's all the reason there needs to be.

I mentioned possible reasons i might have, e.g., safety, comfort, aesthetics, but i dont name one over the other. My reasons are mine and not for someone else's scrutiny.

Anon and others might not be able to understand why i would chose to get a "dangerous surgery" but they dont need to. They only need to know it is what i have chosen for myself.

*The actual efficacy of conversion therapy is like nonexistent. It doesn't work. It makes people miserable and suicidal. But, there are people (including anon it seems) who think it works and that's why I'm forced to treat it as a "possible" solution. Arguing against conversion therapy would be a different kind of argument than the one i made here.

[milucas]

large assortment of wolf pack hcs

so i drew davey and came up with some hcs about his appearance along the way!! i also made up some lore about packs and clans too. the drawing is also included at the end

just davey

davey has two necklaces that he wears all the time. one of them is one of gabe's old rings on a chain and the other is a locket that angel gave him for his birthday

the locket has a picture of angel on one side and a picture of him, asher, and milo on the other

he has longer hair that is almost always up in a bun or a ponytail

sometimes when angel gets stressed he lets them braid his hair

eventually it became a stress reliever for him too so he always asks angel to braid his hair after a rough day

lots of piercings

he has like 4 piercings on each ear and a nose stud

i could also see him with a medusa or labret piercing, also a septum ring

gabe was definitely very punk and he went all in to the aesthetic. like a million face piercings, tattoos, stretched ears, sides shaved, silver jewelry, studded leather jackets. like the whole thing

so davey was able to start getting piercings pretty much as soon as he turned 16

wolf packs/vamp clans

speaking of tattoos

i think that a lot of groups like wolf packs or vampire clans will traditionally have identifiable symbols that they wear all the time

traditionally these symbols would be tattoos, but things like rings necklaces, and bracelets are also acceptable and much more common

most of the shaw pack has jewelry but david wanted to get it tattooed. however he still has a ring and he wears it often

it's also not a requirement as an alpha or beta to get it tattooed, it's completely up to the person (asher's is a necklace)

this is just lore brain working overtime but i feel like most packs/clans could have some sort of rite of passage to officially join and get their symbol

for wolf packs i imagine it's something like a wolf's first group hunt or something

with vamps it's much less formal like they get turned and the clan king basically asks if they want to stay and if they say yes they get their symbol

with packs i think there's like. not really a ceremony but it's a big thing for a person to get their symbol

some time is set aside at the end of the next pack meeting to congratulate the newest official pack member and they get their jewelry or they show off their tattoo for the first time

traditionally if someone chooses to get the tattoo it's overseen by the alpha, and some packs actually have the alpha do the tattoo

the shaw pack is one of those packs

gabe knew how to tattoo and did david's, and eventually taught david how to do it himself. david actually really enjoys it and finds that he likes spending that time with individual pack members

n e wayz drawing time!! i included the shaw pack symbol i designed bc i like erik's but i was chronically bored that day. it's meant to kind of resemble an S

[clemgreenwood]

"I always thought when I got older that God would sort of come into my life in some way. He didn't. I don't blame him. If I was him I'd have the same opinion about me that he does." - Cormac McCarthy, No Country for Old Men

Name: Clementine Greenwood Age: 24 Gender: Cis woman Pronouns: She/Her Occupation: Sales associate at Flowers & Company / undergrad Biology student at UPenn Neighborhood: University City

basic stats.

Full Name: Clementine Agnes Rita Greenwood Nickname(s): Clem Birthday: 19 November 1998 Zodiac: Scorpio sun, Sagittarius moon Sexuality: Bicurious Hometown: Willow Grove, PA Education: HS diploma (Mount Saint Joseph Academy); AS (Montgomery Country Community College); BS in Biology (University of Pennsylvania, current) Religion: Catholic agnostic

physical.

Hair Color: Naturally light blonde Eye Color: Blue Height: 5'4 Tattoos: None Piercings: One in each lobe, usually wearing small pearls Scars: None Fashion: Modest in a slutty way

family.

Mother: Abigail Greenwood (née Williams), 46 Father: Robert "Bobby" Greenwood (deceased) Sibling(s): Gemma Greenwood, 32 Half-sibling(s): Marley Callahan, 32

personality.

+ Hard-working, intelligent, curious, dependable, empathetic, resilient, neat, polite - Codependent, self-indulgent, indecisive, morbid, obsessive

headcanons.

Carries around a pocket-sized bible with her in her purse, not because she ever really reads it but just as a comfort thing

Always wearing a tiny silver cross necklace her grandma gave her for her confirmation

Pretty good at drawing so her little sketches in her bio notebooks are so cool. Doesn't really draw outside of that though

Super scatterbrained. Forgets shit all the time. Has to have millions of reminders and alarms on her phone

Looooves philosophical discussions and finding out what other people think about how the world works and their opinions on religion etc. Great discussion partner bc she doesn't get combative or upset, just genuinely really likes hearing other people's thoughts

Pretty sheltered in a lot of ways still despite going out of her way to see and read and learn and talk about the things she wasn't exposed to in her childhood

She visits her dad's grave almost every weekend and has always really liked cemeteries so she spends a lot of time there

Loves wine, especially red. Hates beer, still bad at drinking liquor

Has tried smoking weed maybe once or twice but never really gotten high. Super curious about it though and wants to get high

biography.

From day one, Clementine Greenwood was a paradox of conflicting information. During the entirety of her mother Abigail’s (unplanned) pregnancy, she believed she was having a boy, confirmed by the doctors and never second-guessed until Clementine was born. “God heard me and gave me another baby girl,” Abigail told her husband. Abigail had wanted another girl because her first, Gemma, eight years old at that point, had already disappointed her by resisting the Catholic faith she held so close to her heart. Clementine was a do-over. Another chance to create a person in her own image. 

But Clementine, even at five years old and starting private Catholic school, was already destined to disappoint her mother eventually. She certainly tried not to — from that age forward, a willful cognitive dissonance began to form like a wall in her mind, making space for two conflicting truths to coexist. In some deep part of herself, she never believed in the god they spoke of in school, or any god at all for that matter. She didn’t believe any of the stories they told, or that miracles were real, and when she watched her teachers and her peers and the priests during mass, transported by their faith, she felt nothing more than a deep and aching loneliness, as if for some reason god or Jesus or some unnameable third thing had forgotten about her. She tried though; as she got older, Clementine forced herself to believe. It didn’t work on a fundamental level, and the guilt would sometimes creep up on her in the middle of night, scaring her nearly into panic attacks, but during the day she shut down her instinct and grasped bravely at straws. Sometimes she even believed she believed. 

She was only ten when Gemma moved out. Eight years younger, Clementine’s older sister had babied her as much as their parents did, and when she left she told a very young and very devastated Clementine that she was sorry she had to leave her, but that she simply couldn’t live there anymore without destroying her mental health and sense of self. A ten year old Clementine didn’t understand this, and only began to reflect on it more as she got older. 

As a preteen, she began to tell herself that one day god would come to her. This, she found, was easier to believe. That one day, by those same miracles they taught them about in school, the holy spirit would find her and she would stop having to pretend, which became harder and harder as time wore on. The cognitive dissonance grew as she split her time between playing the part and rebelling against it. She would wear her prettiest dress to Sunday services and beg Jesus to come find her, and then at night let a boy from the other school feel her up behind the church. 

It was partly her mother’s religious mania that drove Clementine closer to her father, but it wasn’t just that. Her dad was her person. He knew all her favorite things, and he never inadvertently made her feel guilty for her internal struggles the way her mom did. He was a rock in a world that felt horribly unstable. And here was another paradox: Bobby Greenwood was a good father — and he was also a terrible father. What Abigail knew, Gemma suspected, and Clementine had not one single clue about, was the affair Bobby had had before Gemma was born, with a woman in Arizona who got pregnant around the same time as Abigail, and the estranged daughter he’d been sending letters to in secret since then. 

In her late teens and early twenties, Clementine began searching for meaning anywhere she could find it. God had still not come to her, and now her comfort thought from her teen years — that he would come eventually — had begun to fade. She looked for it in hobbies that never grew into anything, books of poetry and philosophy that contradicted each other, in relationships that felt shallow and confusing at best, and in sex with strangers that only heightened her sense of existential dread. It was around 20 years old that something occurred to her: perhaps she’d been looking for meaning in all the wrong places. It was not philosophy or literature or religion or even language she needed to look to, but science. If she wanted to understand herself and the people around her, surely understanding humans at a biological level was the true starting point.

And she was good at it, she found. With Gemma’s help, she enrolled herself in community college, received her Associate’s Degree in just under two years, and got accepted into UPenn to finish her degree in biology. There was no career path she had in mind, no ultimate goal beyond understanding how humans and animals and all living things on this planet functioned on an anatomic level. She piled loans on herself with the carelessness of a person who has never shouldered much real responsibility, and whose ability to plan for the future had never been very good.

In early fall of 2022, when Clementine was starting her senior year at UPenn, her father died in a sudden and violent fashion. The police told them he’d been mugged, and that it appeared there had been a struggle over his watch before he was shot. Not even an expensive watch — obviously something with sentimental value. Abigail had long ago surmised that the watch he never took off was something given to him by the Arizona woman, and this not only confirmed it but made her hate him in death. Again, Gemma suspected. And again, Clementine felt only lost and confused. Where in the last few years she’d had some success trying to heal from her religious trauma, this brought it all back again. She found herself on her knees by her bed every night praying for answers, for god to give her a reason for taking her dad, and to forgive her for the intrusive thoughts that kept asking why if one of them had to go, it couldn’t have been her mom. 

She’s still reeling from his death, and now, coming to the end of her degree, she doesn’t know anymore if it was worth it, or if she found any of the meaning she was looking for. 

current connections.

long lost half-sister of @marleycallahan

wanted connections.

Regulars at the flower shop she works at

People from UPenn (peers, teachers, etc)

Friends/connections of Clementine's older sister

Exes, fwb, past hookups, etc

Negative influences who tap into her vulnerability and get her to party and try drugs, etc

[ak8shi]

Jobs that the HQ Boys would have in college

a/n: I’m tipsy and idk what this is.,,,,many thots head full

ATSUMU: oh my god… he would work at Lulu Lemon and also be a campus rep for the brand, he looks really good in the clothes ig,, 🙄his manager fucking hated him for the first month of working there because they put him on the floor thinking he would attract people with his athletic build and good looks but he was so judgmental towards the customers, they had to put him behind the cash register LMFAO😔😭, he’s still judgmental behind the counter about the colors people pick for things but he knows he has to stfu to keep the job.. when dudes check out and have anything longer than 5.5 inseam shorts he always mumbles under his breath about feeling bad for the dude’s girlfriend 💀

BOKUTO: ALSO a Lulu Lemon rep but more of a floor/customer service person lmfao, HE SELLS things like CRAZY, people just listen to him and his expertise when it comes to the apparel because he’s so enthusiastic about it and looks so good in it, he’s the type that has 5 million different random jobs here and there : I can see him working at the campus gym as an instructor or just someone who oversees the machine area, LMFAO he’s the one who organized recreational games and sometimes referees rec volleyball!! He loves it and people ask him for advice all the time. He also stands outside of hollister shirtless on Black Friday LAMAKISKSMS, He ALSO is sponsored by one of those companies that delivers snack packages directly to college dorms HE IS SO CUTE PLEASE

SUNA: He has a job at his college campus’ library! He literally loves it because he doesn’t really have to talk to anyone besides the elderly ladies who work with him and the occasional lost underclassman, and he can do his homework on the job. Girls go to the library that he works at specifically to stare at him, and the twins come in to annoy him often too (that’s the only way they would be in a library setting) GIRL he has to KICK them out for being so loud god. He also gets the occasional offer from the campus’ student ran fashion magazine to model but he’s too embarrassed and knows he would get absolutely CLOWNED if he accepted🥺. He also ubers on the weekends sometimes and he as a 5 rating because he’s hot and never makes weird conversation with his passengers

FUTAKUCHI: MAN he would work at the mall at one of those hair kiosks LMFAOO Listen, he’s honestly the perfect person for the job because he’s pushy, confident, and h*t… when people would usually object on getting their hair done by some random at the mall, they usually say yes to him because…. Its him ugh I hate him ALSO HE’S ONE OF THOSE SKETCHY PEOPLE ON FACEBOOK THAT SELLS SCAM BEAUTY PRODUCTS (“hey girly,” PLEASEMDMF)

OSAMU: He would work a typical bus boy job in college tbh, you usually have the start from the bottom in the restaurant business and he likes the fact that the hours are pretty flexible, and that he can show up hungover as fuck and still do an okay job. Occasionally his friends will pay him to cook a meal for them, or bake something that they can impress a girl with (sometimes he purposely burns the baked goods 😭LMFAMDM) Works late a lot of times and you can catch him downtown in the parking lot scarfing down his dinner at 2 am

SHIRABU: I have no idea why this one was so obvious to me but he 100% works at a Starbucks on campus lmao, his pre-med self is just always stressed and needs coffee to stay awake, and honestly he kind of enjoys being a cunt to all the students he encounters as an outlet for his frustration (sir…💀), He’s constantly screaming at Goshiki behind the counter, and he honestly doesn’t have the patience for any Karens or those girls who complain about their order because they ordered something they didn’t mean to. He’s genuine and friendly to his regulars though and if you tip he’ll put an extra shot of espresso in your order😙

KUROO: Also another obvious one for me, he’s giving me paid lab member by day, bar tender by night vibes from a million miles away. He honestly gets offered the job in the lab because of his grades and immense understanding of chemistry in his classes and labs, and he loves it!! God.. he’s really so nerdy and you can’t tell me this man doesn’t get published multiple times in academic papers bc he DOES! The lab is great and everything but he’s only there for a few hours per week, so he seeks out a nightlife job at a bar, let me tell you that’s where he cashes out,,, 🤑 like he gets tipped really well because he’s good at conversation while not being creepy, he’s HOT as FUCK, and he makes the drinks actually strong. Truly everyone and their mom’s favorite bartender !

ARAN: THIS MAN,,, he’s so photogenic and good looking there’s not doubt in my mind that he would be an influencer on campus (Atsumu really wishes he was him lmfao💀), he has ALL the sponsors and also a huge social media following. Fashion nova men, skincare brands, athletic programs, he has so many sponsors and basically most of his Instagram is payed placement , He also promotes a lot of campus merch and bars!! Like there are definitely pics of him popping bottles with his boys on his insta and he looks so good please😈

SEMI: he would work at a piercing or tattoo salon, and honestly it happens unintentionally ?? He went in for a tattoo and he was looking at the jewelry on display and was like??? this would be so cool to be able to pierce someone!! SO he apprenticed with a worker and had a lot of his friends who wanted piercings come in for practice, also he’s the type of dude that is great at calming/reassuring people who are nervous or anxious before getting a piercing or tat, loves to play his guitar quietly in the background when he’s not busy helping a client🥰 also volunteers at the animal shelter a few times a month bc he loves animals 🥺

SAKUSA: this one is making me laugh because he would definitely work a teleprompter job thinking it would be fine since he doesn’t have to touch or interact with anyone but he ends up hating it because of how rude the people are 💀😭 he somehow gets stuck with the most obnoxious and rude clients he really can’t take it, (the way he has to repeat himself forty times... no) he brings a huge thermos of coffee to the office when he has to work and he leaves with a huge headache every time

[kurt-nightcrawler]

Piercings

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Request: ok hear me out, the mother nature character is innocent and all, but what if she low key had some crazy secret like she has nipple piercings or something crazy like that. and the gang find out bc jubilee was there the day she got em or maybe warren finds out when they’re making out and he feels them. idk just a thought

Warnings: sex/smut —everyone in this story is 18+— nipple piercings, nudity, and language

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: usually Mother Nature is very sweet and innocent, but we can indulge in some spice, as a treat. Also I didn’t really mention her eye color or mutation because it wasn’t too relevant for the story! Enjoy!

Other Warren works here!

All he could think about was how she’d taste on his tongue. How the only coherent thought running through his head would be to explore her body like an undiscovered corner of the galaxy. 

How her grip on his hair would tighten as she got lost in the euphoric feeling of his mouth. Or how the bruises on his body from the latest mission would be identical to the ones she gave him. 

He practically ran up to her, kissing her hello. She could feel his smile against her lips as he kissed her. He hugged her tightly, never wanting to let go— his hands traveling a little lower than usual. 

“Later,” She whispered. “You stink.” 

He smiled and patted her head, telling her he wouldn’t take long. 

Warren rushed through his shower, thinking about her— how much he’d missed her, craved her— just being in the same room as her satisfied his need for her, even if only for a little bit. 

His cock was already hard just thinking about her. He groaned, water pounding down on him. He wrapped his hand around his cock, slowly moving up and down. Thinking about her.

Her voice, how he could listen to her speak for hours without getting tired of listening, and how she made the prettiest noises when they fucked.

He shivered at the thought of her, whining and moaning, begging for him. 

Her face— how he’d kissed it a million times before, and he would do it again. How she would bite down on her lip so hard, trying to stifle moans, it would sometimes bleed. Or how her head fell back— her eyes closed, hips bucking towards him, her breathing rapid— he’d do anything to see her like that, for she was always beautiful, putting all of nature in its beauty to shame.

His mind flashed back to his hand on his cock. He bit his lip in frustration, wanting to edge himself on and finish, but he knew waiting for her would be better than his hand in the shower. 

She was laying on the bed, propped up against his pillows, mindlessly scrolling through her phone. 

Warren stepped out of the bathroom only in his underwear. He laid down on the bed, his thighs spread over hers, lightly straddling her. 

“Hi,” He whispered.

She tore her gaze from her phone and looked at his face— lips pouting, eyes tired, damp strands of hair framing his face. She set her phone aside and kissed his lips, finally greeting him. His hands lazily grabbed on to her hips. 

As their kisses deepened, his grip on her hips tightened and traveled upward. She sighed in pleasure. 

He swiped his tongue over her bottom lip. (Y/N) let him in her mouth and they became nothing short of in sync.  He tugged on the hem of her shirt, causing them to break apart for a moment so she could slip it off. 

“Want me to take my bra off?” She asked, eyes shining.

“If you want to.” Warren didn’t want to seem desperate and forceful.

“Just so you know—” She reached her hands behind her back to unclasp her bra. “—My nipples are like, really sensitive, so just, be careful with them.” 

“Oh, okay. That’s fine.” Warren wanted to know why, but he wasn’t going to push. “Just tell me if I get too aggressive.”

“Oh, no, it’s not like that I just—” Her bra fell down, exposing her breasts. Warren’s gaze fell to them immediately. 

They were beautiful. Her whole body was, but his gaze was stuck on her nipples.  

They each had a small piece of metal going through them. 

Warren blinked in realization.

They were pierced.

“When did you get these done?” 

“While you were gone… Do you like them?” 

Warren nodded, “Yeah.” His voice was shaky as if he was restraining himself. 

His dick was rock hard. He knew her nipples would be extra sensitive— he wanted to take one in his mouth. Feel the metal against his tongue, see if he could make her cum without touching her lower half. 

Probably not, but he’d try and relish in her moans and whimpers. 

“Did it hurt?”

“The first one didn’t, but the second one was awful. I almost cried.” 

Much as his lust-filled judgment liked her nipple piercings, he’d rather she didn’t have to suffer through any pain. 

He kissed her shoulder, “Do they still hurt?” 

(Y/N) chuckled, “No. They’re just really sensitive.” 

“Mhmm… Where’d you get them done?” He asked, continuing to kiss her.

“That tattoo and piercing place down on 23rd and Rosewood. Jubilee went with me. I tried talking her into getting her nose pierced, but she didn’t want to.” 

Warren’s eyes widened with surprise. “Jubilee huh?” 

“Yeah. She held my hand through the whole thing.” 

Warren began to kiss down (Y/N)‘s body, inching closer to her core with every moment of lip to skin contact. She quickly removed any clothing she’d left on. 

“Thank you,” He breathed once his lips met her clit, sending a slight shiver up her spine. 

“I didn’t get them done for you. It was for me… And if anything this is more torture for you because the healing process can take anywhere from six to twelve months.”

“I know, I know,” He looked up at (Y/N). Her head resting against his pillows, hands loosely gripping his hair. “But I really like them. They’re hot— you’re hot.” 

She laughed a little, “Does it turn you on knowing I fulfill the ‘innocent yet secretly dirty’ cliche, baby?” 

“Yeah,” He kissed the skin right above her center, and then slowly began to rub his thumb on her clit. “It does.”

He gently nipped at her thigh, before moving his mouth over to her pussy, licking it up. Warren used his other hand to grip one of her thighs and keep her legs open. He added another finger to add sensation to her clit. 

(Y/N) whined, and Warren couldn’t hold back his smile. 

His mouth got more aggressive, trying to take her all in. Her thighs pressed up against the sides of his head. His fingers sped up on her clit, still rubbing in a circular motion of sorts. One of (Y/N)’s hands was tangled in Warren’s hair, and the other was holding one of her breasts, careful of the nipple, but still clenching on to it as she let out breathy moans and bucked her hips upward. 

He removed his hand from her clit and (Y/N) whined at the sudden loss. 

“Sorry, baby.” He cooed. 

(Y/N) huffed. Warren quickly replaced his mouth with his hand and inserted a finger inside her.

“This good?” He asked. She nodded, biting down on her lower lip to stifle her moans. Warren added another finger, her cunt adjusting to it. 

He began to rub her clit again, with his other hand, as he pumped his fingers in and out of her, curling them every so often. 

(Y/N) was a mess of breathy moans, and choked out curses. 

Warren smirked, reveling in the pleasure only he could give her. 

He left soft, tender kisses on her stomach; contrasting the rough, hard work his hands were doing. 

“Are you close, baby?” He asked, looking up at her, his eyes gleaming with feigned innocence. 

“Uh-huh,” She nodded. Warren’s thumb sped up on her clit. He felt her cunt clench around his fingers. 

He continuously worked in her pussy and on her clit, helping her ride out her high and reach her climax until her legs stopped twitching and her breathing became steady. 

Warren pushed himself forward making his body parallel to hers, leaving kisses all over her neck. 

“Angel, baby,”

“Yeah?” His breath was warm against her neck. 

“Don’t leave marks.” 

“Can’t you cover them? Your neck looks so pretty covered in flowers.”

“Mmm…” She squinted her eyes as if she was in deep thought. 

“No.”

“No!?” He repeated. 

“No,” She kissed his nose. 

“Please?” He pretended to beg.

“No,” She repeated. 

He smiled, “I’d say you’re terrible, but I can’t lie to you. I love you too much.”

“I love you too, Angel.” 

[smalltragedy]

* justice smith, demi man + he/they | you know gabriel de leon, right? they’re twenty three, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, six years? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to 1984 (infinite jest) by the used like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole waking up in a body as heavy as the dead, emotions always on the verge of spilling over - you laugh before the punch lands, the belief that every encounter you have will be the last thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is october 31st, so they’re a scorpio, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( james, 21, est, they/them )

hi im just reposting gabe’s intro bc its been a very long time n im starting a little fresh hehe. yes i do regret the text color bt im not going back.

VIOLENCE TW

mini playlist.

ghosting ;; mother mother / roam the room ;; citizen / art of doubt ;; metric / thnks fr th mmrs ;; fall out boy / heart in a cage ;; the strokes / where is my mind? ;; the pixies / flowers grow out of my grave ;; dead man’s bones / 1984 (infinite jest) ;; the used / blister in the sun ;; the violent femmes.

statistics.

full name: gabriel de leon.

nickname(s): gabe.

birthday: october 31st, 1997.

zodiac: scorpio sun, scorpio moon, gemini ascending.

label: the icarian.

hometown: belleville, new jersey.

sexuality: bisexual (masc-leaning).

pinterest.

biography.

it’s only rly ever been gabe n his mom n the little new jersey suburbs that r always the same no matter where they go. they dn’t speak abt fathers or brothers or spain or anywhere other than the now, and how its constantly changing bt oddly the same.

his mom’s name is sonia n we love her. she worked a lot as a single mom n p much hs done everything on her own ever since leaving spain.

they dn’t talk abt spain bt we cn talk abt spain n hw sonia hd grown up partially there n partially in the states n hw she’d originally planned to live there forever bt the man she’d fallen in love with ws involved in some. high class dangerous shit n it ws safer fr them to part even if tht involved leaving everything she knew n loved <3

bt its like. ok. bc she hd gabe <3 n they dnt talk abt it so it practically nvr happened. n she tries her best as a mom n usually tht is enough.

they moved around a lot just bc sonia is a very. flighty person. anxious bt nvr seems tht way is just always. tense. gabe didnt think she ws capable of relaxing fr. a rly long time.

she wld commute 2 nyc every morning n after school gabe wld climb onto the train n by the time he got 2 her place of work she’d be just getting off n they’d get a slice of pizza n sometimes they’d go somewhere like central park or coney island (just fr the novelty) bt most of the time they just got back on the train home w/ gabe either doing homework or napping on her shoulder.

when gabe got a little older he’d sometimes skip school n take the train after sonia had already gone so he cld spend the day in nyc. he liked learning bt didnt rly like school. he nvr properly fit in bc of the amt of times they’d move so it felt like nowhere ws. right fr him.

got rly involved in. the punk scene as a young unsupervised teenager n tht led 2 a lot of like. shitty stick n pokes bt also a love of. very loud angry music n a sense of justice tht he held tightly in his fists. got mouthy towards bullies whether at school or in the scenes he involved himself in n started getting into a lot of fights bc of it.

during this, sonia ended up dating n marrying gabe’s stepdad who he calls craig sometimes bt i dnt think thats his name i wont lie to u guys. its partially a joke n partially purposeful disrespect bc gabriel does not trust a single man bt like. man. ‘craig’ is just an accountant. he’s fine he’s a good dude. they once bonded over like. the mets.

violence tw // anyways. when gabriel ws 16 he got into a super super bad fight tht ended rly. terribly n like listen. nobody died bt it ws just. it got blown up very out of proportion n gabe might’ve gotten expelled even tho he wsnt even the one who started it bt thts okay. ‘craig’, or paul, suggested tht maybe. a change of scenery wld b good fr gabe n b4 they knew it they were. moving to paul-robert’s hometown of irving, north carolina. violence end of tw //

he wld’ve complained more bt. fr sonia’s sake gabe kept it 2 himself. it made her happy 2 see them all get along anyways n like. idk he cld put forth tht little effort <3

bt honestly like. he didnt rly get into too many fights once they moved down here n even tho sometimes he ws like. ommgg. i hate this town .. its so washed up .. he still made friends n like. the only thing tht changed ws tht it ws a lil harder fr him 2 acquire illegal substances.

anyways. currently he hs a tattoo apprenticeship n is a professional piercer n like. he plays guitar n writes songs bt thts more of a hobby rn than anything else. mostly focused on paying his rent at port apartments bc as much as he. loves his mom he does not want 2 live with her forever <3 n thts okay!

personality & facts.

overall xtremely passionate person like god. feels emotions so intensely. every time he opens his mouth n talks abt an interest of theirs its just very like. u listen n ur like oh. gained 2 inspiration. thanks.

clings onto his friends p tightly bc he like. nvr rly stayed in one place fr super super long in new jersey so he nvr made very long term friends n now hes like. very clingy HLKDSHLKFSHLKDG also hates to b alone. subtle desperation behind interactions with ppl he rly wld like to be friends with.

like dnt get me wrong hes gotten into. sm fights bt thts mostly bc he cannot keep his mouth shut n he also cnt stand douchebags he like. always wants to tear them down prob bc he ws a victim of bullying. n u know what. we support him. otherwise he loves ppl bt esp if they hv similar interests 2 him.

like golden retriever who bites kind of. intensely loyal but at the same time is very skeptical. things tht good things do not last very long even though they’ve been doing already fr the last few years.

also bit of a nerd. they were nvr rly a big fan of school bt theres smth abt a good superhero comic tht draws their attention more than like. any english class evr. bt seven soldiers of victory? classic. big dc fan.

uh. very into like. hardcore music. hardcore rock. punk. if its loud n angry they r into it like so so much. hs sm tattoos is like. super covered in them its partially bc they work at a tattoo shop n partially bc they do not know hw to manage their money well.

ooohh u know what theyre. kinda moody i wont lie to u. very defensive like they dnt evr wna talk abt their past. has experienced Things n they do not wish to discuss them. will usually like. deflect frm conversations he doesnt wna hv.

in tune with nature. loves fkn taking walks. hangs out in the woods by abernathy creek n lilac ridge bc nobody rly goes there n its just. nice

tries not 2 take anything super seriously 2 the point where when he does take smth seriously its a little scary bc theyre super intense abt it. forcibly optimistic even tho on the inside he feels like a total pessimist. lots of. deep down insecurities tht he projects by attaching himself p firmly onto others. >.>

so so so energetic. can never stay still. always hs to be moving around. restless like tht. probably got it frm his mom. overly protective over the ppl he loves. probably got it frm his mom as well.

goes onto Tangents bt also divert frm those tangents n is generally all over the place.

always cold n always looks tired n like he hsnt slept in a thousand years n u know what. sometimes he just does not sleep.

oooohh theyre a vegan. totally into animal rights. devious little demi man beyond that .. loves horror n the paranormal n believes in like. every cryptic. will debate u on it.

erm not. the kindest 2 themself theyre a bit self destructive. impulsive. drives very fast n parties super hard. said i will hv my effy stonem moment. u dont hv to gabe.

bt ya! luvs oranges n reds n is maybe a short king. hs an eyebrow piercing n like. a lip ring i wont fk around here he IS living his best emo life in 2021. a little outdated on the trends bt thats okay. probably will tell u hes frm new jersey. its a personality trait. smokes the shittiest cigarettes ever.

wanted plots.

just ghosting along ,, dnt even exist 2 me ,, ;; god. firstly just the vast amt of ppl tht gabe hs like. spoken to romantically n then dropped suddenly. n then maybe like. one tht actually Hurt bt they cnt avoid each other bt theyre actively pretending each other doesnt exist n its. hurtful bc it ws like. actually smth nice bt <3 ykno FKLFSDHG

hey hey heyy c’maahn i’m just a little guy ;; n this is the vast amt of ppl tht gabe hs probably. pissed off n hs either fought or been on the verge of fighting just. unable 2 resist a good bicker-turned-duel.

just blistering in the sun ;; they cld b close friends bt also they cld also not b bt just ppl who. indulge in bad impulsive decisions with gabe. general bad influences on each other’s health n just. no good! party hard bt at what cost.

n also ;; like ... rly solid good friendships ... flings n maybe an exe or two tht either ended on good terms or just. horrendous, ppl they’ve distanced frm, ppl also frm up north, piercing customers, bt not tattoo customers bc im p sure they’d get fired if they were just tattoo’ing ppl willy nilly, etc.

[solitvdcs]

* ross butler, cis male + he/him | you know dawson flynn, right? they’re twenty-six, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, their whole life? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to wannabe by spice girls like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole the sound a basketball makes when it swishes through the net, memes as a personality trait, test anxiety sweat thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is december 12, so they’re a sagittarius, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( mels, 29, cst, she/her )

tldr; nathan scott/shawn hunter wannabe

basic info

full name: dawson flynn

birth date: december 12, 1994

pronouns: he/him

hometown: irving, north carolina

sexuality: bisexual

height: 6′3″

eye color: dark brown

hair color: black

build: athletic

tattoos: none

piercings: none

style: outside of work he’s comfort over style, but he does have to dress up for work (looks really good in suits)

favorite color: green

favorite food: pizza

zodiac: sagittarius sun, aries moon, libra rising

mbti: esfp

hogwarts house: gryffindor

enneagram: type 3 wing 2

temperament: sanguine-phlegmatic

alignment: chaotic good

bio bullet points

dawson’s creek may have come out four years after he was born, but as far as anyone was concerned, the boy in the rowboat was his namesake

has two older siblings and five younger half siblings. his dad split when he was three, but he loves his stepdad and was legally adopted by him right before he started middle school

the ten of them lived a modest existence in delphinus heights, the kids basically sleeping on top of each other. dawson never invited friends home, not because of any embarrassment for his upbringing, but because he knew how hard his mom and stepdad worked for them and knew they would stretch their already thin living to feed another mouth if one was brought home

he was popular in high school, which was probably a mix of being the star basketball player and having the kind of good looks someone on a cw show would have. he was homecoming and prom king, and voted a nice handful of superlatives his senior year: best smile and worst driver among the acknowledgments

college scouts began approaching him as a sophomore, and he had his choice of schools. he chose a school out of state (leaving open for plotting purposed bc why not), and almost ended up losing his scholarship because of his grades. since money was always tight, dawson couldn’t afford to lose it and ended up seeking out a tutor

he fell in love with his tutor, obviously, and they dated until they graduated, when he made some stupid mistakes and got his ass dumped

got drafted into the boston celtics, and he played for a few years before he tore his acl and had to leave indefinitely

while in rehab, he began coaching a local team, whatever the peewee equivalent is, and he’s always been really good with kids so that worked out well for him (he’s considering getting a teaching certification so he can become a gym teacher but he probably shouldn’t be left in charge of anyone’s education, even if it is just gym)

currently has a job at a marketing firm -- what he went to school for -- and the pay is decent but god is it boring

lowkey teen drama shows are his thing, gossip girl is his guilty pleasure show (he won’t tell you that even if you guess it though, rep to protect or whatever guys say)

he has a cat but she likes roaming while he’s at work, so she’s become the unofficial pet of the whole apartment building he lives in

honestly a himbo in every sense of the word but we love him for that

i’m so tired and i just wanted to get this posted so pls take this crumb and plot with me <3