#ASF writes

[another-shameless-fangirl]

Demon

“They aren’t really ghosts, you know.”

“What?” Danny blinked out of his bliss staring out at the lights that floated across the park and turned his attention to the voice on his right. Each of the soft lights dotting the distance he had figured was a spirit, moving aimless and slow or following a habitual path they had carved out for themselves in life and found comfort in after death.

An old man sat on the bench near where Danny stood on the concrete path under an ancient willow. His grey hair thinned at the top and was combed over a pale bald head. His wire glasses were rectangular and too large for his thin face. Danny couldn’t tell the man’s age but spots and lines of concern felt long ago made him pretty sure the man was at least 70. Danny turned his body toward the man stiffly.

He wasn’t used to people actively talking to him. Since the accident happened and he started high school, he cut off all communication with Sam and Tucker barely acknowledging them in the hallway and letting them draw their own conclusions as to why he was avoiding everyone now. It was safer for them to think he was just a jerk instead of… whatever he was now. Half human, half ghost, it was all so confusing. Until he figured out exactly what he was, whether he really was a hybrid or not, then they would be better off without him.

The past few months had been lonely but he wasn’t sure this was the kind of company he wanted in their absence.

“They look like people but they aren’t.” The man told him certainly and Danny felt a chill go up his spine. He did not see the man there when he walked up to stand under the willow tree to observe the peaceful scene. He wasn’t sure why but he felt like an intruder. He looked out at the peaceful lights flying and walking in the distance then back to the seated man. Danny smiled politely.

“They’re not people. They’re ghosts.” He said lightly but where his conversation went, he really wasn’t sure. There was no way the man had lived in Amity Park without knowing about the ghosts that lived here too. The man shook his head, tutted, and crossed his wrinkled arms to his chest. His weathered wood cane shifted against the bench but did not fall.

“They look like that to trick people.” He said with a malice that made Danny recoil.

“That… They’re not tricking anyone. They’re just existing.” He said and the man scoffed at him.

“They look like that to make themselves more palatable for people. These things are evil.”

Danny stared at the man who glared across the scene before them. The ghosts who could only come out at night were harmless. Most of them were Echoes, ghosts that couldn’t do much more than relive a moment in their lives that proved they had existed at all. Danny had tried once to speak to one of these souls and they either didn’t see him or had ignored him completely. He wondered which it was sometimes and what the difference was between him and them. Were they ever at the same power level he was? Able to move freely and follow his own thoughts? Were they evil like the man said?

Was there enough difference between them that he could be sure he wasn’t evil too?

“How do you know they’re really evil? They’re not hurting anyone.”

“They’re biding their time. They’ll behave for now but the other ones,” The man waved a hand at the boy. “Big nasty things, bombing the streets and frightening people.”

Danny frowned and the man kept going.

“Ghosts didn’t used to be a common thing. They were special, peeks at what used to be and now you see them all the time in town. They’re so strong you can see them clearly and they’ll look right at you and cause you pain.” Danny looked at the man who just stared straight ahead. “It’s only a matter of time before these ones start lobbing bombs at people killing us all.”

A hard lump formed in Danny’s throat. “They just-“

“They’re vile.” The man scowled at Danny. “They’re evil creatures- not human anymore and pulling their power from somewhere evil to stay where they don’t belong.”

Danny frowns at the man and it’s tempting to leave. Did other people believe this?

“You don’t think they belong in the human world?”

“Not anymore.” The man uncrossed his arms. “Ghosts can’t be here on the living plane with that much power. Ghosts are what’s leftover from human souls. What these are, they’re not leftover so much as they are repurposed.”

Danny turned toward the bench completely turning his back on the park and the spirits alike. The old man looked at him for the first time and brown eyes were clouded and practically looked through the boy. It was unsettling but the man seemed earnest.

He didn’t even want to ask but he had to know.

“Repurposed into what?”

“Into demons.”

Another chill struck through Danny and something in his core swirled at the word.

Demon…

The vitriol hatred was still there but it simmered under the calm words. “They’re so far from God that their souls turn into something unholy, untouched by light.” The man said solemnly. “They cause pain and suffering to the living and lie about everything. Agents of the devil come to bring hell on earth. All while wearing the face of the dead to make us drop our guard.”

Danny stepped back but didn’t run away. “You think the ghosts in town are all… demons?”

“I know they are.” The man rasped almost sadly. “The way they look, sound, they’re trying to mask what they really are. They’ll trick you into thinking they’re just kids and then drag you into hell themselves.” The man pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and coughed into it. Danny watched but the man didn’t continue without prompting which he couldn’t help but do.

“How do you know?” The thoughts began to swirl in his head. “How are you sure that they’re not just ghosts with powers?”

“What do they need powers for exactly? They’re too sturdy. Too strong.” The man tucked the cloth away. Danny peeked at it and half expected to see speckles of blood like a movie but it was clean. The man straightened his posture. “Why would you make a creature strong if you didn’t plan on using it for what power is used for? The strong ones are going fight for dominance to claim this land their own for the devil. The ones that look like us are here to convince us all it’s okay.”

Danny looked out over the ghosts scattered around the park. He wanted to tell the man no and that he was wrong, but what if there was a truth in what he said?

“I- Phantom won’t let that happen.”

The man scoffed.

“Phantom is the worst of them all.”

A pit formed in his stomach so quickly he felt sick.

“He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“It’s very existence is wrong.” The man scoffed and he began to stand up. Danny stepped backwards quickly but the man barely looked at him as he continued.

“Phantom… Ghost… It’s still an unholy creature. Damned to earth unable to pass into heaven and apparently kicked out of hell.”

Tears formed in Danny’s eyes. “That’s not true. He’s just a kid-“

“Even if it was a child once, it isn’t anymore. An undead creature of bizarre power fighting for dominance in a damned town while wearing the face of a child,” the man picked up his cane and shook his head. “If that isn’t a demon then Lord help us when it reveals its true face.”

Danny stepped back again onto the grass and further under the weeping willow. He stayed there firmly off the path as the man walked slowly toward the street.

A gloved hand rubbed at green eyes. He grit his teeth and called after the man’s retreating form. “You’re wrong. I’m gonna prove it!”

“Don’t be naïve, child.” The man waved a dismissive hand back at him. “Save your soul while you still can.” He turned around a corner and was out of sight.

Danny felt a rage in him that felt so cold and kicked off the ground launching himself into the air. He saw the man from above but what was there to say? What if the man talked more and that rage solidified and proved him right? What if Phantom was the worst of the ghosts, no, the demons that now inhabited the town.

It made sense. He wasn’t a ghost, he wasn’t human. Both species had told him he didn’t belong in their worlds. If he didn’t belong to either side, maybe the old man was right.

If he wanted answers, maybe he needed to look down.

[persicipen]

₊ ˙ ⊹ .

[adeadgirlspoetry]

We’re only what we pretend we aren’t.

[blueboybot]

Danny, The Hunter And The Kryptonian

Danny accidentally finds himself in the middle of a fight between Lobo and Superman and is not pleased at all. He had assignments due and these two idiots decided that a royal rumble was just the thing he needed at 4 a.m.

So he may have said a few unsavory words towards them which resulted in them halting completely and listening to him in shock.

Now they both think a child from their species survived and has been hiding here on earth because Danny was unaware he gained omnilingualism.

[another-shameless-fangirl]

"I'm really okay, Mr. Lancer. I appreciate it and all, but I don't-"

"No you don't, Mr. Fenton." The teacher stood tall with his arms behind his back, the very picture of authority.

"Mr. Baxter has done you a serious wrong. If he receives special treatment for this sort of thing, people may start saying things. Things like assault and favoritism and revoked scholarship."

A thin smile went to Dash who had the decency to cross his large arms and fold them to his chest in defeat.

"Uh, right..." Danny balanced awkwardly on his crutches. New ones were on order but for now, the stiff ones from the hospital, a size too big, would have to do. "But Mr. Lancer as much as I might enjoy having Dash be my slave for a week-"

"A personal assistant."

"Yeah... As much as I might have liked that before, I'm really cool with just pretending it never happened." He glanced at Dash who quirked an eyebrow at him

Both boys looked at Lancer who held their stares and merely sighed.

"As admirable as that is, the school board and your parents have come to a decision."

The bell was about to ring and they had moments before the halls swarmed. Danny needed to be somewhere his bound leg wouldn't be struck and possibly injured even worse than the previous fracture of his tibia.

The boy still argued.

"Right, gotcha, but honestly I've really been priding myself on my independence lately-"

"And we're all very proud of you," Mr. Lancer drawled. "This will be an invaluable lesson in accepting help from your community and putting your pride aside. Per Dante Alighieri, that's one of the sins, Mr. Fenton." He helpfully pointed out and Danny rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, so is violence."

The teacher smiled but it was a tight expression- a clever jab at the blond boy while meeting and parrying the reference to the Inferno while proving he actually read the book.

Dash blinked and scratched his head.

"I thought there were seven deadly sins. Like the show?"

"Class, boys. Remember your hall pass and make sure Mr. Fenton makes it to every class on time." He addressed both of them then turned on his heel. The two stared after him but he did not turn back with more quips or instructions. The moment the man disappeared around the corner, the bell rang.

Two pairs of blue eyes met with varying degrees of anger but what else was there to do but obey?

High school sucked.

Best make the most of it.

With a growing smirk, Danny adjusted a crutch and shrugged off his backpack. The purple bag slid down his arm and he held it out for his new companion.

"Garçon?" He bounced his bag easily letting it dangle from his fingers. "I believe your shift begins now." Danny smiled at him and by all means, it looked like he was enjoying this.

Dash Baxter glared at the boy just as the doors around them opened and witnesses started to pour into the hall.

He snatched the bag out of Fenton's hand and held it between them. Teeth bared, he leaned forward pressing it into the smaller boy's chest.

"Don't get used to it, Fenturd. The second school is over, you're on your ass if you need to lean on me, got it?"

That infuriating smirk widened to a smile.

"Got it. Now if you wouldn't mind leading the way? Clear a path?" He dared bat his eyes at the blond.

Dash stormed through the hall with his head low as if he were a charging bull. He didn't need to push anyone out of the way. His classmates rushed to make sure there was room for Dash leaving Danny to hobble along behind him in his wake.

"I should've tackled you into a wood chipper, nerd."

Behind him came a cheery response.

"C'mon, Dash. It's only three to six months! Think of all the humility you'll learn. That'll come up if Lancer goes through with having us read Purgatorio."

"Whatever."

Day one better go smoothly or this was going to end up with Fenton dead.

After Dash’s prank leaves Danny with a broken leg, Dash’s parents and Mr. Lancer punish him by making him help Danny get around school while on crutches.

[caitlinbueckers]

baby daddy.

paige bueckers x reader

3.2k

like guys . I don’t even know what to say rn . this is PURE fucking filth like yas there is some exposition in the beginning and its dialogue heavy but like ✋✋ just know this is fucking porn . So sorry for anon if this isn’t up to par but the wormz took over my brain and this is all i have to show for it . Love u so much for the idea tho <3

ANYWAYZZZ !!!! you and paige buy a strap. filth ensues.

MAJOR 18+ WARNING!!!!

“babe.”

it’s deadpan, borderline exasperated as you turn your head, meeting a wildly unimpressed expression from paige that makes you snort out loud, hand coming up to cover your mouth.

in your girlfriends hand, dangling from her fingers, is a dildo of some sorts, shaped horrifically in the form of an anatomically incorrect fist, and it’s almost impossible to keep your surprised laughter from bubbling out, taking a step closer with a look of awe.

“dude, you’re kidding,”

“babe, why are we even here? like, deadass i have two hands and ten fingers, this is so extra.”

to be fair, she had a point— those two hands and ten fingers had never done you wrong in the slightest, but this was simply an act of impulse, deciding just that morning after you guys had spent the time with each others hands down each others pants, you’d declared in a sudden rush of post-nut clarity, that you simply had to see paige in a strap.

which, was met with a bit of intrigue and then, obviously, because paige bueckers is competitive in anything she can consider herself good at, couldn’t help but interrogate you in outright disbelief.

‘so, what i’m hearing is that i’m not enough?” it was said in the tone she uses when her sarcasm is over the top, and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you, slapping her arm.

‘baby, stop being so dramatic, oh my god.”

you’d kissed her to silence her delusions as to why you’d even brought it up in the first place, before explaining ever so gently that it was never a matter of what paige couldn’t do, and more so about the capabilities of what she could do, and that you promised it would be fun.

truly, she was on board after you’d told her that for some girls it was hard to use, so that, ‘if she couldn’t handle it, she could give up’ — of course paige would never back down from a challenge.

“you do have two hands, and i love them just the same. i just wanna try it, okay? is that okay?” you say it in your quiet, softest voice, and maybe you’re kinda being a brat because you know paige could never say no to you when you talk like that, or when you walk up to her, tracing a thumb against her cheek before pulling her down to peck her nose.

it’s immediate the way she chases your lips, presses a quick one to your mouth before she’s rolling her eyes, “anything for my baby, i guess.” but, she’s smiling, and that feels like more progress than before.

in the end, you guys end up picking something pretty beginner level— it’s only six inches, has a dual ended pleasure vibrator nestled in the crotch for the one wearing it and due to paige’s prompt request, it is in fact purple, which only makes you laugh at the excited shimmy she does as you both walk out, hand in hand, the black privacy sack swinging between her fingers.

“thought you were so against the idea?” you couldn’t help but tease her once you guys are in the car, music already blasting— you know all her music without really knowing it, but it’s definitely something by brent faiyaz.

“yeah,” she shrugs, “until i thought about getting to fuck you with it.” she says coyly, glancing over at you with a raised eyebrow before she’s pulling out of the lot, hand secured on your thigh.

you guys don’t really get to it that night, or the next day— instead settling for the slow, tired morning sex that you guys indulge in before her practice and then after, the languid, loving type of sex you both revel in for the evening when she’s back at the dorms.

no, for some reason, it isn’t until a week or so later that it suddenly comes up— and even then, you weren’t necessarily thinking about it too hard, not until the teams all at dinner. you, paige, KK, and aubrey all sit together, and it’s really in moments like these that you love to actually participate in conversations with the team— KK and aubrey had been one of the first to welcome you in with open arms after you and paige had begun dating, so you really felt most at ease with them, even if they could be complete idiots.

not like paige was any better.

it had started with someone making a tiktok, going around asking who they’d never let their son or daughter date— resoundingly, enough people said paige, which was both parts hilarious for you, and astounding for paige.

“bro! literally i’m like, the best girlfriend, that’s some bull.” she couldn’t help but scoff, even if she’s smiling just a little, “baby, i’m a good girlfriend, right?”

you purposely take a minute to answer, pretending to think about it until she grasps your thigh beneath the table, making you snicker as she squeezes, and suddenly, you know exactly the angle she’s playing.

“girl, i don’t trust you,“ KK snorts, making a face, “you’d probably get my kid pregnant or somethin’, like—“

KK’s words make paige snort, shrugging a bit, “shoot, i mean, no wonder they call me baby daddy.” she sticks her tongue out, entirely too immature for the setting of the restaurant, but it makes you warm all over anyway— you love her, even when she’s being childish, which is pretty much most of the time.

the conversation continues after that, and though you pay attention, laugh when it’s funny and answer when you need to, you can’t quite get that out of your head— baby daddy.

it makes you think.

it’s late by the time you guys get home, and true to paige’s fashion, the door is only shut and locked for a second before she’s behind you, pressing kisses to your neck and sliding hands up your shirt, humming quietly— “i’m a good girlfriend, yeah?”

it’s not often that paige asks for reassurance, mostly because she usually already knows, but it’s why it makes it extra special when she does.

“duh.” you whisper out, tilting your head back to grant her more access while she sneaks a hand into your jeans, forgoing the button entirely. her fingers are prodding against your clit when you let out a soft moan, your fluttering eyes only opening for half a second before they spot the black sack from across the room, your own hand gently grasping her wrist to still its movements.

“baby, why don’t we…?” your tilt your head in the direction, leaning your head sideways to try and capture her reaction.

surprisingly, she looks just as interested.

it’s comes out quietly, pressed to your temple, “get on the bed then.”

you don’t waste much time, stepping out of your jeans and your top until there’s nothing left but the black, simple thong that rests against your hips, crawling back against her purple sheets with an inquisitive look on your face while she pulled the thing from its plastic package.

“remember what you said earlier?” you say offhandedly as you watch paige’s muscles flex and tighten, looping the belt around her before she glances up at you, “which part?”

“baby daddy,” you can’t help but grin, tossing your head back against the bed, “just wanted to see how true that is.”

paige scoffs, and it’s obvious she likes that, plays into it even as she crawls onto the bed, looking down at you with a narrowed glance, “how true what is? that i could get you pregnant?”

it’s almost immediate the way your body flushes at that, the subconscious squeeze of your thighs together as you look up at her through lidded eyes, “mhm. is that bad?”

“i mean,” she’s smirking though, and her hand wraps around the strap on slowly, as if simulating it to be an extension of herself— it’s really fucking hot, “it’s sexy that you even thought about it like that,” she whispers, and you can practically see the confidence rising within her at the prospect, before her eyes flicker up at you. “wanna suck me off, ma?”

it makes something within you go haywire, and your mouth practically fills with saliva as if to prepare for it before you nod slowly, propping yourself up on your elbows before you stick your tongue out, paige’s blue orbs never leaving you for one second, before she’s sighing, hard under her breath, “fuuuck.”

she gets up on her knees, running her hands through your hair to gently guide your mouth down to the tip, her teeth teasing the bottom of her lip as you slowly slid the length into your mouth. it felt foreign, heavy on the tongue, but the texture was so lifelike, it almost felt like it was attached to paige.

“shit, baby,” she sounds out of breath as she thumbs your hair from your eyes, wanting to catch every dirty look you send up to her, mouth full and eyes watering, “god, you’re such… a slut.”

it must’ve been the strap or something, that had the endless string of dirty talk spilling from paige’s mouth, not entirely too uncommon and yet it had shifted the atmosphere completely. it felt lavacious, provocative, tantalizing even.

still, it makes the arousal pool between your legs, making you practically squeeze your thighs together again and again, chasing the feeling of some type of friction as paige pushed her hips up slightly, the tip only then touching the back of your throat and eliciting the first drop of a tear from your eye.

she notices, because she doesn’t miss a thing, and is slow as she pulls it from your mouth, eyes lingering on the string of saliva that connected your bottom lip from the tip of the strap.

she’s breathing heavy, blonde strands falling into her face, loose from the usual braid she kept her front pieces in as she grasps your jaw, “does that hurt?”

it doesn’t, but it makes you smirk that she even asks, shaking your head before you lean back now, head hitting the mattress as you open your thighs, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

“you can make it hurt,” you suggest, and paige lets out a slow exhale, a teasing grin on her smile as she grasps it by the hilt, “you’re driving me fucking crazy, y’know that?” the words are hissed down at you, spoken between her lips, chapped from how hard she’d been breathing as she rubs the tip of the now warmed, messily lubricated length against your cunt, eyes narrowed and focused as she drags it up, then down.

“you’re so wet,” it sighs out of paige as if she doesn’t even realize that she’d said it, a whine puffing past your lips involuntarily, ready to spit some type of urgency towards her, until she pushes in, finally, and you fucking gasp.

it was unlike what you’d really ever felt before— especially having never been with men or experimenting with penetration on this degree. it’s thicker than you expect, thicker than paige’s fingers combined, and your back arches upwards off the bed, right as paige grasps your hip to keep you right in place. “shh, shh— fuck, you’re so good, baby.”

“ohhh- oh fuck, paige—“ the words come out in a mess of noises, as you fling an arm over your face to try and focus on the comforting rub of paige’s thumb, the smell of her cologne, instead of the stretching, hot pressure that’s collected between your legs.

it only takes a couple moments before it doesn’t completely hurt, but the second that it does, you can finally blink your watery eyes open, letting out a soft moan at the furrowed eyebrows on paige’s face, her own lips parted as she carefully gives a shallow thrust into you, the subsequent friction of the dull, now audible buzzing of the vibrator on the other end of the dildo against her clit and it’s obvious.

it’s in the way she grunts, tongue darting out to seek attention to her bottom lip. “s’that feel good?” she’s panting already, and it makes your stomach swirl in arousal, nodding quickly as she gives another slow, but shallow thrust that sends immediate shivers up your spine, a rush of rampant pleasure up your stomach as you let out a groan, “more?”

it doesn’t take long for paige to find a rhythm— surprising considering her dancing abilities— and once she does, you can practically sense the confidence that radiates off of her. it’s in the way she wraps an arm around your thigh to hoist your leg up, higher, higher, until your cunt is on full display, and she’s leaning atop you, pressing wet kisses to your breasts as she drags her hips into you, each push making you both shudder out a moan.

“shit, baby— so fucking— so fucking wet. wan’me to fuck a baby into you, huh?” paige always has a habit of going on these fuck-drunk tangents, ones that usually send you careening over the edge in due time, but this— it makes you mewl into her ear, the thick, heavy weight of the strap punching into you, deeper than you or paige could ever reach, and it makes your hips jerk upwards, wanting more of it, all of it.

for half a second, you hoped, by some weird anatomical technique, she could get you pregnant.

“ohhh— fuck! paige, paige— pleasepleaseplease—“ what you’re begging for, even you can’t decipher, but it’s really just to make sure that she rocks into you like that again.

and she does— again and again, drool collecting in the corner of your mouth from how long your lips have been parted, and paige looks at you, delirious and flushed as she drags her thumb over your mouth, wipes away the spit and reaches between you two.

before you can figure it out, you feel her finger tracing the outside of your stretched cunt, the wetness that’s collected there as she lets out a wanton sigh, something more high pitched than what paige usually grunts out, “stretching you s’good, baby— fucking- take it, jus’ like that— fuck, wanna fuck you stupid, baby.”

it’s almost too much. your head presses hard against the comforter as paige’s hips push flush against your own, the final stab of the length being inside of you makes your head swim, your body acting upon it’s own accord as your thighs, shaking, squeeze around paige’s hips, your stomach flexing and jumping as paige gives up whatever bit of composure or control she has left, before she’s quick to fuck into you without a single strand of resistance.

it’s hot, heady, and the sweat that collects on the surface of your skin is almost like a sense of accomplishment as her face falls into your neck, your thighs pushed impossibly high to give her the best angle, as she ruts into you. the slight curve of the dildo somehow gives a direct angle to your g-spot, and it punches a shout out of you, one that’s followed with a crying whine that even you knew was bound to get you both caught.

“fffuck— shhh- shut the fuck up—“ her mouth is on your neck in an instant, other hand quick to clamp over your mouth, but the friction against paige’s clit has her bottom lip quivering, struggling to close as each of her gravelly, breathy moans launch right into your ear, and it’s clear that she’s being greedy, grinding the strap into your cunt for the effort of chasing her own high, and it’s fucking sexy.

this deep, you can almost feel the fucking vibrator, and it reduces you into nothing— fingers twine into paige’s hair, sweaty and sticky, as she fucks into you with reckless abandon, the bed frame squeaking in protest, your cunt wet enough that you can fucking hear it, can feel it drip onto the bed below, feel it coating the sheets and paige’s thighs and you think she’s about to orgasm with how quick her breath has gotten, how shaky her hips are with each incessant thrust, like an earthquake pulsing through your body and it makes you sob, because it feels so fucking good, and paige is so deep, you can feel her everywhere.

“wanna cum inside of’you— ohmyfuck- please, wanna fuck my babies into you— iloveyou, so, fucking- so fu-ucking sexy, baby, fuck.”

it’s all gibberish really, a promise that makes you turn into a pile of mush, because you can feel your cunt tighten around it— delusionally, you imagine paige can feel it too— because even her declaration of love is enough to send you flying over the edge as your legs tighten around her hips, the vibrator nestled deep against paige���s clit until she’s coming too, and it’s a glorious thing to hear— ripping from her throat in a cacophony of throaty groans and whines that mimic yours, only deeper, grittier.

she thrusts into you, sloppy and out of control until you can feel her release on your cunt, spread against your thighs, the dull vibration now pressing hot and wet against you, so much so that it makes your body flood in aftershock, pleasure wracking through you in earnest as your body twitches and jumps, every embarrassingly high pitched noise ripping from your throat, as paige’s go muddled and unintelligible against your neck.

it’s like a cathartic release of sorts, leaving you feeling boneless and jellied in the wake as you slowly return to your senses, fucked out and exhausted as you try to experimentally move your hips, but the soreness between your legs is almost unfathomable.

“shit—“ you hiss as paige finally lifts her head, her own hand slow to guide the strap from your abused cunt, and it’s clear by, not only the tired, almost loopy smirk on her face, but the redness in her eyes, the wetness coating her lashes, that she’d enjoyed herself as much as you had— and while sex between you had always been mutual, it wasn’t often you got to see her fully release like that.

“was that good, hm? did i do okay?” she’s always quick to look for approval, her hand coming up to brush the tears from your face, to pepper a light array of kisses against your lips, chapped and puffy, as you let out a tired laugh, “fucking duh, that shit was… so hot,” you trace her blonde strands, plastered to her forehead, away from her face, “don’t think i’ve ever heard you sound like that.”

it makes her cheeks red, eyes rolling with a scoff, as she lets out a quiet laugh, already trying to play it off as cocky instead of flushed, “well- yeah, ‘cause, i was watching you take my dick.” you slap her arm weakly with a snort, wincing at her usage of words, “ew, you’re so gross.”

“and you’re so pretty,” she counters, before pressing a quick kiss to your mouth.

you both don’t really try to address the fact that there was probably no way you’d both been quiet enough to not at least alert one of the girls, but you ignore it anyway.

besides, it’s only KK that ends up putting you both in a group message the next morning, sending a string of angry emojis and a text that says, ‘bye. im moving rooms’.

you both laugh, because you know she’s not, and more so, you all three know it wasn’t the first time and definitely not the last.

[winxanity-ii]

BIG FAT MEANY

ship: stepbro!megumi x fem!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 (p in v, fingering, dub-con); overbearing/possessive brother (aged up: reader and megumi are in early 20s) word count: 4.5k (lololo forgive me y'all got a bit carried away with the storybuilding 💀 promise this won't happen all the time jajaja ) A/N: Hey guys, just wanted to let you know that i'm reposting this from my alt account, lulu-4-u in case you've seen this posted before... ★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

You weren't a hateful person. Not at all.

In fact, you were practically a ball of sunshine—inside and out.

You loved everything.

It was the simple things in life that made your heart flutter: the moon on a clear night, the smell of fresh rain, lazy afternoons spent with your friends from college, and, of course, your family.

Especially the love between your mom and stepdad, Toji.

He came into you and your mom's life at a time when things were pretty dark—your dad had been having an affair with his secretary, and your mom was left heartbroken. But then, when you were fifteen, Toji walked into the picture, and everything changed for the better.

Out of all the things you cherished, though, there was one thing—one person—you absolutely hated.

Your stepbrother, Fushiguro Megumi.

You hated how mean he was to you.

How he always managed to push your buttons.

How he treated you like a child, even though you were only a year younger than him.

And what you hated the most?

How pushy he got when things didn't go his way.

"Megumi, I said stop!" you whined, pushing at his annoyingly close chest.

Your mind could only race, trying to piece together exactly how you ended up in this predicament.

The night had started simply enough. It was a Friday—date night for your mom and Toji, which meant the house was practically dead.

Normally, you would've just stayed at your dorm, but tonight was different. Your dormmates had been all over you about some party happening on campus, trying to drag you along, but you weren't in the mood.

You'd barely been able to dodge their constant nagging, so instead of getting sucked into something you didn’t want to do, you decided to come home.

A weekend in your room sounded a lot better than getting roped into a night of drinking and chaos.

But instead of holing up and rotting away in your room, Megumi had caught you on your way upstairs. He'd asked—well, more like insisted—if you wanted to watch a movie with him.

It had been a little out of the ordinary, but you shrugged and went along with it, thinking it'd be a decent way to pass the time. And for a while, it had been fine. You both settled on the couch, watching the newest Scream movie.

Until now.

"Megumi, what's your problem? It's just Yuji..." you finally managed, voice small as you sat up properly on the couch, trying to put some distance between the two of you.

"My problem?" he repeated, scoffing like you'd just said something ridiculous. "My problem is you acting like you don't know what’s going on. That picture—he sent it to you for a reason. But you're sitting here like it’s no big deal."

Your brow furrowed, hurt blooming in your chest at what he was insinuating. You hated it when Megumi got like this—sharp-tongued, confrontational, like everything you did somehow annoyed him.

All over a damn picture...

It wasn't even a big deal, honestly. You and Yuji were just chatting as always when among the messages he sent a picture of himself fresh out of soccer practice.

You could vividly recall the boyish grin plastered across his face, eyes bright with his usual warmth.

But it wasn't just the smile that caught your attention.

His shirt, the one you knew had probably been soaked with sweat from practice, was pulled halfway up, wiping at his forehead. It casually exposed the lean muscles of his abdomen, glistening faintly from practice.

He hadn't done it on purpose—he probably didn't even think twice about sending it knowing him—but the way his body looked in the picture was enough to make your face burn upon seeing it.

But apparently, what wasn't a big deal to you, was to Megumi...

"Is he your boyfriend or something?" he demanded, glaring down at you. "Yuji, I mean. Is that why you're all flustered? Because he sent you some half-naked picture and now you’re freaking out like some lovesick idiot?"

"What are we, twelve?" you scoffed, crossing your arms and turning your body away from him, your tone sharp. "For your information, it's none of your business what Yuji is to me. We're in college, Megumi. I don't owe you any explanations."

You could feel the heat rise to your face again, but this time it wasn’t just from the embarrassment. It was the fact that he felt like he had any right to badger you about this.

He wasn't your parent, your guardian—hell, he wasn't even a friend half the time with the way he acted.

"Why do you even care?" you muttered under your breath, more to yourself than to him. "You're always like this. Sticking your nose where it doesn't belong."

You didn't see the way his jaw clenched or how his gaze sharpened at your words. You were too focused on staring at the wall, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling in your chest.

You stood up abruptly, ready to head back to your room, away from his snappy attitude.

But just as you turned, a large hand wrapped around your wrist, halting your steps.

You froze, looking over your shoulder to see Megumi. He was staring up at you through his dark hair, head tilted slightly, a burning look in his eyes that made your heart race in a way you didn't like. His grip was firm but not painful—just enough to keep you there.

"Megumi, let go," you huffed, your lips pouting as your eyebrows furrowed in frustration. You gave a light tug on your arm, but his hand didn't budge.

He didn't say anything, just kept staring at you, his expression unreadable. That silence—his stubborn, infuriating silence—only made your frustration build.

Why did he have to be like this?

"I said let go!" you repeated, yanking on your arm harder this time, but his grip tightened. You felt a hot flash of anger rise in your chest.

"If you don't—" you started, your voice trembling with frustration, "I'm gonna tell Mom and Toji when they get home."

His eyes flickered for a second, and just as the words left your mouth, he scoffed, standing up in one smooth motion, his form towering over yours.

You could feel the heat of him, the intensity of his presence making you instinctively take a small step back.

"What?" he sneered, his voice low and mocking. "You're gonna tell them that you're whoring around?"

You gasped, your eyes going wide in shock, heart slamming in your chest. "What the hell, Megumi?" you started, but the words barely made it past your lips before he cut you off, stepping even closer, his voice quick and biting.

Megumi stepped even closer, his body towering over yours as he stared down at you through his dark lashes, his voice dropping into something almost mocking.

"Or are you gonna run to Toji?" he taunted, his lips curling into a smirk that sent a shiver down your spine. "I bet you'd like that, huh? Telling him how mean I'm being to you... like some helpless little girl."

Your breath hitched, your back pressing against the wall as he closed the space between you, his presence overwhelming. You felt cornered, heat rising to your cheeks in a way you couldn’t control. His words, the way he looked at you—it all left you speechless.

You hated that he had this effect on you, hated the way he made your pulse race, not just from anger but something deeper, something you couldn't quite place.

Megumi leaned in slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. "Or maybe you like it when I'm mean to you. Is that it? You're always whining, but you never tell them, do you? Why's that?"

You cleared your throat, trying to steady yourself, your eyes darting off to the side to avoid the intensity of his gaze. "B-because," you stammered, voice barely above a whisper, your cheeks still burning hot.

You swallowed hard, finally meeting his eyes, though the way he was looking down at you made your heart pound even harder. "Because… you're my big brother..."

You expected him to laugh, to scoff at you like he always did, but instead, his expression didn't change. If anything, something darker flickered in his eyes as he leaned even closer, his breath hot against your skin.

"Is that what you tell yourself?" he asked quietly, his voice low and almost dangerous. "That it's just because I'm your big brother?" He tilted his head slightly, still staring down at you, his eyes narrowing just a bit. "You sure that's it?"

You could feel the heat rushing to your face again, heart pounding painfully in your chest as you struggled to find words, any words, to push him away.

Your mind raced, and though you wanted to focus on the anger bubbling up, a different thought crept in, unwanted but undeniable.

Megumi was attractive.

Like, really, really attractive.

You hated to admit it, but standing there, inches from him, it was impossible to ignore. He towered over you, standing at least six feet tall, his broad shoulders filling out the plain black t-shirt he wore.

You could see the faint outline of his muscles beneath the fabric, the way his chest rose and fell with every breath, the strong line of his jaw clenched in irritation. His dark hair fell over his forehead in that effortless way it always did, messy but somehow perfect, framing his sharp, intense features.

And those eyes—Gods, those eyes.

Even though they were currently glaring down at you with frustration, you couldn't deny the pull they had. Dark, stormy, and filled with an intensity that made it hard to hold his gaze for long. They were the kind of eyes that could make anyone feel small, vulnerable, and you hated how they always managed to affect you.

Your breath hitched as you let yourself take him in for just a moment too long, your body betraying you with a sharp jolt of attraction. But no—no.

You weren't going to go there.

This was Megumi, your stepbrother, and as good as he looked, he was being a complete asshole right now.

You shook your head quickly, trying to rid yourself of the thought. Stop it. Stop thinking like that.

Clearing your throat, you took a deep breath and straightened up, attempting to put on your most serious face, even though your heart was still hammering in your chest.

"Look, 'Gumi," you began, your voice sounding steadier than you felt, using the nickname you had given him years ago. It rolled off your tongue easily, a little too familiar for the situation at hand, but you needed something to ground yourself. "I'm not sure what’s wrong. And I'm sorry if I did anything to make you upset, but you have got to stop this..."

You trailed off, knowing full well what the 'this' was. And deep down, Megumi knew too. It wasn't just about Yuji, or any other guy, really. It was him. It was how he acted—how he always got so weirdly possessive, so jealous, whenever another guy so much as talked to you.

You didn't even have to be interested in them; the mere mention of someone else was enough to set him off.

You'd seen it countless times. The sharp glares, the biting comments, the way his jaw would tighten at the mention of a boy's name.

It was always the same, this constant undercurrent of envy and jealousy that never made sense, and it wasn't just a protective brother thing.

No, it was something else.

Something darker.

Something you weren't ready to acknowledge.

Megumi's jaw clenched, and for a second, you thought he was going to say something or maybe even do something.

You braced yourself, heart racing with both frustration and something you didn't want to name.

But instead, he let go of your wrist, taking a step back.

"Fine…" he muttered, his voice low and almost too calm. "You're right, and I'm sorry."

You blinked, momentarily thrown off. Megumi? Apologizing?

He never apologized to you, not like this. Usually, he'd just brush you off, act like whatever happened didn't matter or somehow turn it back on you. But now, here he was, actually acknowledging his behavior.

It felt strange, and you weren't quite sure how to respond.

"Uh, well, um, thank you…" you mumbled, still processing.

It didn't feel real, this sudden shift. But before you could dwell on it for too long, you turned to leave again, ready to retreat to the safety of your room where you could put distance between yourself and this confusing whirlwind of emotions.

But just as you began to walk away, you felt it again—his hand, firm around your wrist.

He wasn't letting you go.

"Where's my apology?" he asked, his tone unsettlingly calm.

"Huh?" you responded, confused by the sudden demand. Your brain barely had time to catch up with the words before Megumi yanked you forward, pulling you off balance.

You stumbled, instinctively putting your hands up to steady yourself, but you ended up falling into his chest instead.

You gasped, your hands pressing against the solid warmth of him, trying to create some space, but Megumi's arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close.

The heat from his body seeped into yours, making it impossible to ignore how solid and overwhelming he felt against you.

"Megumi—" you started, breathless, but the rest of your sentence was cut off as he brought his lips close to your ear, his voice soft and commanding.

"Shush…" he murmured, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "Let's just finish the movie."

With that, he pulled you back down onto the couch next to him, his arm still wrapped around your waist, keeping you tethered to his side. You were practically sitting on his lap, his arm still holding you close, and your mind was spinning, trying to wrap itself around what was happening.

The movie played in the background, but you couldn't focus on anything except the heavy tension in the room and the warmth of his body pressing against yours.

As you tried to shift away, to put some space between you, Megumi's voice pierced through the room, low and deliberate. "You know," he began, his hand dropping lower, his fingers brushing the inner corner of your thigh. "I just realized something… we never got to bond." He emphasized the word by gripping your thigh, his touch firm and intentional.

Your breath hitched at the contact, and your mind blanked for a second, overwhelmed by how sudden and intense his presence felt. "I-I mean, we still can," you stuttered, trying to defuse the situation, trying to keep this from going wherever it was heading.

But the way Megumi's face pulled into a wicked smirk, the sharp gleam in his eyes, made your stomach drop. He leaned in closer, licking his lips as he watched your reaction, his grip tightening slightly on your leg.

The air around you felt thick, it was as if everything had narrowed down to just this—his gaze, his hands on you, the heat of his body so close to yours.

Before you could even think of moving again, Megumi's hand suddenly gripped your jaw, his fingers firm against your skin as he turned your face toward him. His touch was possessive, controlling, and it sent a wave of something through you—part fear, part something darker that you didn't want to name.

"C'mon, look at me," he said, his voice a low murmur as he scooted even closer, towering over you now. He tilted your head back slightly, forcing you to meet his eyes, and even if you wanted to pull away, you couldn't.

His grip was too strong, too sure.

Megumi watched your reaction closely, his smirk growing as he tilted his head, amusement flickering in his eyes. "What's wrong? You don't wanna play with your big brother?" The way he said it, his voice dripping with a mock sweetness, sent shivers down your spine, and your heart pounded painfully in your chest.

"G-Gumi, the movie…" you stammered, trying to deflect, to push him away with your words, but it was no use.

You knew nothing good was going to come from this.

He just chuckled softly, his fingers gripping your jaw a little tighter as he leaned even closer, his breath hot against your skin. "Forget the movie," he muttered, his voice taking on that dangerous edge again.

Before you could react, Megumi grabbed both of your wrists, pinning them to your side with one hand.

You were startled by how effortlessly he did it—his arms didn’t even bulge, as if it was nothing for him to hold you down like this. Your heart raced even faster, panic starting to creep in as you realized how strong he really was.

You tried to squirm, to pull away, but Megumi didn't budge. His grip on you was firm, almost casual, like he was barely putting in any effort to keep you trapped against him.

Megumi tutted at you, a soft noise that somehow felt condescending, as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "The movie's still there, silly," he hummed, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine.

You could feel him nosing along the contours of your neck, his presence overwhelming every one of your senses.

"Let's just play a game until the commercials are over, yeah?" he murmured, his voice low and teasing, as if this were all some harmless joke to him.

"A-a game?" you stuttered, your mind struggling to keep up with what was happening. Your body felt frozen in place, your instincts screaming at you to move, to get away, but the grip he had on your wrists, the way he held you down so effortlessly, made it impossible.

"Yeah…" he whispered, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of your neck. "Let's play… who can last the longest."

The words didn't even fully register before you felt the sudden force of him pushing you back against the sofa.

An involuntary "oomph" escaped your lips as your back hit the cushions, and your vision blurred for a second as you stared up at the ceiling, heart pounding in your ears.

Before you could gather your thoughts, Megumi was hovering above you, his body blocking out everything else. His dark eyes raked over your face, taking in every flicker of emotion you couldn't hide, every sign of the fear and confusion coursing through you.

He didn't move, not yet, but the weight of his gaze pinned you in place as effectively as his body did.

There was something in his expression—an intensity that made your chest tighten, made it hard to breathe, and you couldn't help but feel like you were already losing whatever game this was.

Megumi let out a deep chuckle, the sound reverberating in your chest, his breath hot against your ear. "Don't worry," he murmured, his tongue flicking out to lick the curve of your ear, making you shiver. "I'll go easy on you… for now."

"Megumi—" you started, your cry cut off as his hand cupped your jaw, and he slammed his lips onto yours, his movements forceful and possessive.

Heat shot through your body, shivers running down your spine as his tongue invaded your mouth like a man starving. It was overwhelming, the way he kissed you—demanding, fierce, leaving no room for resistance.

You whimpered against his mouth, the noise muffled by the way his lips devoured yours. His hands wandered along your body, gripping, grabbing, squeezing any part of you he could find.

The pressure of his touch was firm, almost bruising, and with every place his hands explored, your body responded with an involuntary jolt of heat.

Your breath hitched as he hooked his hands under your legs, pulling them up and around his waist, his hips jolting forward into yours. The movement sent a rush of sensation through you.

You managed to tear your lips from his, gasping for air as your chest heaved. "M-Megumi…" you whined, your voice trembling, your head falling back as you tried to make sense of what was happening, what he was doing to you.

He didn't stop. Instead, he groaned low in his throat, his lips finding your neck. He licked and bit along the sensitive skin there, the rough scrape of his teeth making you shiver even as you tried to push the sensation away.

Your mind was at war with itself—one part of you frothing, screaming, fight him, get him away, the panic clawing at your chest. But the other side—the darker part, the one that you didn’t want to admit was there—was keening, practically begging for more of his attention, for more of this twisted game.

And Megumi, as if sensing the battle raging inside of you, just smiled against your skin, biting down a little harder, leaving a mark you knew wouldn't fade anytime soon.

Megumi pulled back slightly, making a deliberate show of licking his lips as he panted above you, his eyes dark and focused. "C'mon, lil sis," he murmured, rocking his hips into yours in a slow, rough rhythm that made your breath catch in your throat. "The game can't start until you're ready."

Your body betrayed you as you watched him put a hand between your bodies, his fingers easily slipping into the confines of your sleeping shorts. "Ohhh, looks like you really wanna play, huh?" he taunted, his voice laced with smugness as his fingers rubbed up and down your wet slit.

A wave of shame washed over you, your thighs twitching with the instinct to close, to shut them and stop what was happening, but his frame kept them wide open.

You couldn't escape the heat pooling low in your stomach, no matter how hard you tried to fight it. A choked whine left your mouth, your back arching involuntarily when he slipped a finger inside.

Megumi let out a groan, low and rumbling, as if he was savoring the sensation. "Damn…" he muttered under his breath, cursing softly as he felt your walls constrict around his finger. His thumb brushed over your clit, making your whole body jerk, and when he added a second finger, the fight in you began to crumble.

His fingers were relentless, rubbing and probing with a skill that left you breathless. Your legs, which had tried to resist, opened wider for him, your body moving of its own accord.

Megumi hummed in approval, a light chuckle escaping his lips as he muttered, "Good girl." The words sent a rush of conflicting emotions through you—humiliation, desire, confusion—but you couldn't stop the way your body responded to him.

And before you knew it, you found yourself overcome with an orgasm. Babbled whimpers fell from your lips as the coil within you snapped, your body shaking with the force of it.

By the time you came down from the high, Megumi had already pulled back, sitting on his haunches as he dropped your legs. You curled your legs up to your body, watching as he began to untie his drawstring sweats, his eyes still locked on you with that same wicked smirk.

You looked away just as you caught a glimpse of the dark trail of hair peeking out from his waistband, heart pounding in your chest.

At this point, you had accepted what was about to happen, and your mind raced as you braced yourself.

Megumi crawled back over you, his hands tugging at your shorts, and you barely registered the feeling as he discarded them over his shoulder. One of your legs was pulled back around his waist, the heat of his skin pressing against yours.

His body hovered over yours, and you felt him nudge your entrance with the tip of his dick, sliding it up and down along your slit.

A shiver ran through you as you struggled to keep your thoughts clear, but it was impossible under the weight of him, both physically and mentally.

"Fuck," he groaned to himself, eyes locked on where your bodies were beginning to connect.

Your breathing grew shallow, your heart racing uncontrollably, knowing that whatever came next, there was no turning back.

Megumi filled you in one swift movement, stealing your breath away. You cried out, the sound a mix of pleasure and pain echoing through the room. His groan was long and guttural, reverberating in the space between you.

Megumi's rhythm was steady, each thrust sending a jolt of shock of pleasure through your body.

It felt surreal—part of you couldn't believe you were letting this happen, but the undeniable pleasure clouded every coherent thought.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, the intensity of it all overwhelming your senses.

"That's right," Megumi grunted, his breath hot against your ear. "Take all of me."

You couldn't form words, your mind spinning, too overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through you.

Instead, all you could do was moan and whimper, your body moving with his, the sound of skin meeting skin filling the room. His hand snaked up to your throat, gripping lightly as he maintained a relentless pace.

"You like that, don't you? You like the way big brother fucks you?" he growled, his voice harsh and demanding, his thrusts becoming even more intense.

Your mind reeled, unable to speak, only nodding frantically in response as the pleasure built inside you. You could feel the pressure mounting, an orgasm threatening to wash over you as your body tensed beneath him.

Megumi seemed to notice, his hands hiking your legs up higher, deepening the angle, each movement more brutal and precise than the last.

You lay there, body writhing beneath his as he fucked you like a ragdoll, and a dark part of you couldn't help but thrill in the way he took control. His voice filled your ear with praise, breathless murmurs of "you're doing so good for me," and other words that barely registered through the haze, as if he were drunk off the feeling of you clamped around him.

Soon, his tempo shifted, becoming erratic, his grip on your hips tightening as his low moans became uncontrollable.

The intensity built until you felt warmth spreading inside you, the realization hitting you that he was coming, his release flooding your senses.

The throbbing between you two blurred together, until yours faded, and you could still feel him twitching, even as everything else calmed.

Eventually, he slowed, both of you panting, the room thick with the aftermath. You winced when he finally pulled out, a shiver running through you as you felt the hot liquid seeping out.

Megumi stood to grab cleaning supplies, gently wiping you off, his touch softer now, though still lingering in the tension of what had just occurred.

And as you lay there, watching him, all you could think was, What the fuck just happened?

[aleixis]

isagi's the sweetest bf ever, and never forgets to get you flowers on anniversaries !!

even though he's stuck in blue lock, he always makes sure to deliver flowers to your house when the one year mark comes around <3 he'll spend the little free time he has on his phone, scouring through the collection of flowers at shops near your house and nearly dropping his phone on his face out of shock for how high shipping is, but he'll endure through !

he'll even consult the opinions of his fellow teammates, taking every chance he has to shove his phone into hiori or kurona's face, asking what they thought of a different shade of pink for the 4th time in a row. they might be a tiny bit sick of him constantly fawning over you, him constantly talking about you to them, but that doesn't mean he'll ever stop; over his dead body he wouldn't.

with the ring of a doorbell, you find a delivery worker with a large bouquet of multi-colored tulips on your doorstep. he asks, "from an isagi yoichi?" you smile in response, thanking him and taking the bouquet into your arms. the bouquet came with a small note attached, reading, "roses are red, violets are blue, no matter what flower, i choose you!"

bonus — your parents constantly tease you for the comically large bouquet you got from yoichi, and you still have no clue how he had the money to buy and ship a bouquet of that size !!

taglist : @why2277 @koffeekat @skullvgirl @saioratral @fishii28

[lotus-pear]

have u ever drawn kunichuu before,,,,they would be so elegant in ur style

you are SO lucky i had this lying around...............anyway i think they should makeout forreal god bless i love it when my two favs are in love

[crsssie]

bite - professor!simon riley x professor!reader (suggestive warning!)

"Thanks for walking me back."

"Of course!" The new professor stumbles, cheeks red as you smile. How cute.

"I'll be seeing you?" You raise a brow, hand on the handle of your shared office.

"Y-yes!"

The door opens before you can react, and Simon stares down at the professor, brow raised as you greet him, eyes lighting up and patting his chest to have him bend down for you.

"Professor Smith." Simon nods. "Congratulations on the degree."

"S-sir!"

"Just Simon is fine. No difference in status here." He smiles. "It's getting late and I've gotta get my missus home, so if you'll excuse us."

"Of course." He nods, scampering off as you laugh.

"He wasn't doing anything."

"He's in love with you, luvie." Simon mumbles, hand finding your chin to squeeze your cheeks as he leans in for a kiss. "Should I get you a bigger ring?"

"That's hardly necessary." You hum, laughing as he grunts.

"Ought to sink my teeth into your skin until those marks are permanent then." Simon lets go of your cheeks to kiss you properly, hand resting on your jaw as you lean in to kiss him properly — too much teeth to be gentle, his body hunched over yours as your nails dig to ground yourself. Your lashes flutter closed as he shoves his tongue into your mouth, letting him nip at your bottom lip and let go with a pop, his stubble soft against your jaw as he unlocks his jaw to bite at your jugular, teeth sinking in as you wince.

"Si." You grumble.

He doesn't respond, biting down harder as you sigh, squeezing at his shoulders as he finally lets go. Your fingers reach to collect his saliva from the bite, licking them off as he stares down at you.

"It's not fair if only you get to bite." You pinch at his ear, hissing as he leans down. "Why are you acting like your students aren't all up on your dick and practically begging me to leave you so they can get bent over that stupid table of yours?"

"They're not my wife, luvie."

"And you're not my husband?" You hiss. "Thought you trusted me, Si."

"do." He mumbles, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. "Trust you a lot. 'm sorry."

"How sorry?" You raise a brow, watching as he stares back up at you, dangerous glint in his eye as you cock your head to the side.

"If you wanted to get bent over the desk you could have just asked, my missus." He whispers, eye glancing at the door. "Say the word 'n 'm yours. 'm your husband before all else."

You open your mouth, teeth biting into his collarbone as he kicks to close the door.

Anything for his missus.

[jesbiblesworld]

If you're the type that genuinely gets upset that bl actors are in relationships with ppl other than their on screen partners, I need yall to (and I'm gonna touch your hand when I say this), find new hobbies outside of bl. Y'all have let yourselves get entirely too invested in these men to the point where you get genuinely upset and heartbroken, even ANGRY over them having other relationships, and that's not normal. None of them are doing anything wrong and treating a "dating scandal" the same as if they were found to kick puppies and punch orphans in their spare time is fuckin absurd

[stsgsk]

"You've saved me as what?" Satoru repeats for what must have been the fifth time.

You sigh, speaking again, slowly. "Cotton Swab. I saved you as Cotton Swab"

Satoru gapes at you, mouth opening and closing without a single word coming out. In the end, he pouts and look away.

You frown. "Hey, come on. Don't be like that," You walk around him so you're directly in his line of view, his pink lips sticking out as he crosses his arms. You show him your phone, where his contact really is saved as 'Cotton Swab'. "It's a term of endearment. An affectionate nickname. I mean, would you rather just be saved as Satoru? How boring is that?"

Satoru glances at your screen once, then looks away, clearly unimpressed. "You didn't even give me an emoji."

"Alright, alright" you say, going ahead to edit his contact name. "I'll add some emojis. Which ones do you want?"

Before you could blink, satoru had taken your phone. He gives it back to you a few seconds later, leaving you chuckling at the long list of emojis he had put after his name. His name, you just realised, he changed to 'bf'.

You look up at him with a grin. "You gonna explain that?"

"Nope" he says back with a matching grin.

He didn't explain that you two were now matching, because he had long since had you saved as 'gf' with a whole bunch of emojis after too.

[adeadgirlspoetry]

[azuree1733]

Sakura shoulda had her big axe ☹️

[megumimania]

SUMMERTIME — nanami kento

synopsis: it’s nanami’s year to host the annual summer barbecue— but will it go as well as he planned?

warnings: nanami kento x fem!reader, gojo is a lowley a dick in this one, brief mentions of jjk 1st and 2nd years, fluff, nanami not trying to kill gojo for 5 mins challenge go!

author’s notes: heyyy im back from the dead! honestly life has been so busy but im glad to be back for now, im just cleaning out the drafts!

“please dont—” nanami calls out but it’s too late. the sound of his porcelain vase shattering on the ground cuts him off.

at this point nanami knew that this would happen. in the days leading up to the annual summer barbecue, you’d heard your husband whisper, yell and mumble every expletive in the book.

you know he didn’t mean to curse so much, it was just the stress of planning everything getting to him. it was also the fact that he often tried to separate his work life and his home life. he’d refused to do overtime when you had dates planned and he often booked days off to work around your schedule.

the separation between his home and work life made his life less stressful, knowing that you were kept away safe from the evil world of curses and jujutsu made the harder days more bearable.

“sorry nanamin!” the pink haired teen called out, flashing one of his usual smiles that could probably let him get away with murder. nanami waved him off seemingly unfazed.

at first things were going smoothly.

drinks were flowing, the kids were either playing or swimming in the pool and his fellow co workers were chatting away on the patio. for a second nanami could breathe until the smell of acrid smoke wafted in the air.

he forgot he left gojo on patties and hot dogs duty.

“gojo did you just burn the hot dogs and patties?” nanami asked calmly, simultaneously going over the relaxation techniques you’d taught him in his head. nanami wasn’t quick to anger by any means but when gojo came into the equation, it was almost instinctual.

nanami couldn’t throttle gojo in front of his colleagues and students. what kind of impression would that make?

he figured that they would understand nonetheless, almost everybody here had thought about doing the same thing, it’s just that he’d be the first to actually do it.

“nanamin this is no way to talk to your elders!” gojo berated him, shaking his head profusely for dramatic purposes only.

“i thought you’d know better manners than that.” gojo replied, feigning disappointment.

in any other situation nanami would apologise for his supposed lack of respect but when these words were coming from the mouth of a 28 year old, over powered man child, his comment was like water off of a duck’s back.

“i don’t care, you better fix this,” nanami replied, his voice low and threatening.

he did not want to disrupt the lively atmosphere of the barbecue because of one idiot’s mistake. he slipped some money into his hand, hoping that a few gojo free minutes would lower his blood pressure.

he spotted you talking to shoko and utahime by the pool, looking gorgeous as ever in your blue sundress. you were throwing your head back in laughter as shoko made a funny joke.

god you were still beautiful as the first time he met you at a party that celebrated the merger between the two companies you worked at.

he remembers it as if it was clear as day, whilst everyone was networking and socialising with each other, you stood off to the side of the room like a wallflower and from the way you kept zoning out whilst several conversations were happening in your direction.

he knew he found the one in you.

the only person who’s social battery drained faster than his. nanami was and still is forever grateful for the slight buzz that the complimentary champagne had given him, as it gave him the liquid courage to talk to you.

and now five years, a wedding and a beautiful home later, nanami still looked at you with so much love and affection as if everyday was the first day he met you. he was extremely lucky to have you in his life.

“i’m sorry ladies, i need to borrow my wife for a second.” he said politely as shoko raised her hands in mock surrender, giving him a cheeky grin. by no means did he want to pull you out from the conversation you were having, he was happy that you jelled well with his colleagues.

“she’s all yours nanami, don’t worry about it.” she patted his back playfully as her and utahime walked off in an another direction with their drinks in tow.

he knows he’s being awfully clingy right now, pulling you away from what seemed like a good conversation but he just wanted a brief moment with you before he had to deal with everyone’s shenanigans again.

in the back he can see nobara and maki hustle everybody in an intense game of poker, shoko and utahime purposely accidentally blowing smoke into gakukanji’s face to piss him off or to probably send him into an early grave.

“would i be a terrible host if i kick everyone out right now, hm?” he pulled you into his chest, your presence having a calming effect on him.

nanami could die here in your arms. in an instant the sensory overload he was currently experiencing was immediately quietened by just being here with you.

you rested your hand on his chest, the blaring testament of nanami’s love for you sitting pretty on your ring finger. the ring cost a pretty penny that nanami was all the willing to spend, even going the extra mile to buy lab grown diamonds for you.

“i think they’d be more understanding if you fed them first,” you joked, looking over at the grill that was currently missing from the action. “speaking of…where is the food?”

by reading his facial expressions, it didn’t take much to deduce that a certain white haired and blue eyed sorcerer had a role to play in all of this.

it was common knowledge that gojo wasn’t a good cook by any means. that part was really solidified last year when half the staff was out sick because he decided to experiment with his food on one friendsgiving evening.

“c’mon babe, chill out have a drink or two. you’ve been so uptight all day.” you suggested, offering him a reprieve from his host duties. nanami couldn’t say no to a pretty face like yours, especially when you were looking at him like that.

he eventually gives in, grabbing a bottle of beer from the cooler. it’s not his favourite drink of choice but he figured that it would do for the time being. nanami relaxes under your touch, his heart rate and breathing becoming more slowed and even.

you forget how much work aged him, even though he says that it’s the most fulfilling job that he’s had. the wear and tear of being a sorcerer definitely added years onto him despite him only being 27. a vacation is definitely needed for the both of you, a long one preferably away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life.

protests come from the partygoers who are eagerly awaiting the food. yuji and nobara proclaim that they’re gonna die without food that earns an eye roll from megumi, who has gotten accustomed to his friends dramatic tendencies.

gojo arrives on cue with a terribly awkward ijichi who profusely apologises for their lateness. nanami quickly gets up and helps put the bag of food away before telling ijichi to grab a drink and chill out by the patio. he feels bad that gojo made him work on his day off because lord knows after dealing with gojo 24/7, a break is definitely needed.

“you’re a lazy sack of shit.” nanami tells gojo as he begins to plate up the food for the kids, handing out plates to the kids as they come. gojo plays dumb, as if he wants to ruffle nanami’s feathers even more.

maybe it was a rich kid or only child thing hell, maybe it was a mix of both but as much as gojo claimed his childhood wasn’t like one of those “super rich, super spoiled kids”, it did show in his mannerisms and body language. for example his attitude towards the mundane like doing the dishes or laundry. someone was always doing something for him.

“what do you mean?” he asks, feigning ignorance. nanami wasn’t going to give him the reaction he wanted, choosing to be blunt as hell. someone had to bring him back to reality one way or another and unfortunately the task befell on him.

“you made ijichi come in on his day off, just to drop off some food.” gojo groans in annoyance. trust nanami to turn everything into a teaching lesson. it wasn’t his fault the food was heavy and in his eyes, this wasn’t work, this was merely ijichi helping him run an errand as a good friend does.

“if he didn’t want to go with me, he would’ve said something, right ijichi?” he calls out to the younger man, who stills at the sound of his name being called. he meekly nods, not wanting to be dragged into this mini argument between them both.

“still doesn’t change the fact that you’re still an ass.” nanami still relented much to gojo’s dismay. his expression changing once you came over, the hard lines on his face softening as he spoke to you.

gojo thought it was adorable as hell that nanami was a complete softie for his wife, a complete contrast from the stoic exterior he displayed on the field. he knew that deep down nanami had a big heart—it was evident in the way he always looked out for the students and the other sorcerers.

you placed a kiss on his cheek, poking fun at how red he turned from the moment before walking off, food in hand. gojo leaned in closer to make a cheeky remark but was immediately silenced with a burger being shoved into his mouth.

“shut it.” nanami muttered before going over to join you on the loungers. gojo was stunned, he was too busy trying to work his way through the layers of bread and meat to process what just happened.

nanami was too busy enjoying his time with you to care about what gojo’s next plan of action was. however he mentally drew up a scoreboard that brought a sense of satisfaction for him.

this week:

nanami 1

gojo 0

[caitlinbueckers]

told you so.

kate martin x reader

2.9k

woooooh this is a fucking doozy guys. literally received one (1) anon and then i blacked out for an hour and a half soooo here’s this ! realized during this journey that kate martin means an unfathomable amount to me and it’s like . Actually concerning 🔥🔥

ANYWAYS it’s giving Kate martin’s controversially hidden girlfriend that goes lowk public at the wnba draft like SHUT UP

18+ AS FUCK

“babe, quit looking at me like that.”

if there’s one thing you know, above the fact that you were certain there was gonna be an unsuspected draft tonight, was that kate martin could be such a bitch in the morning.

not that this was new for you, in any sense— you’d been more than used to it since the dawn of your relationship, learning all the little things about her that made her tick. whether that was her favorite to least favorite foods, or teams, even her obsession with fucking hot sauce.

you knew she still slept with her childhood blankie, the one currently curled under her chin atop the hotel comforter because she’s ridiculous, and because nobody has ever and would ever disrespect her blankie game.

and above all, you knew how much she wasn’t a morning person.

“you’re so dramatic,” you snort, pushing yourself up onto your elbows with a tired, but mocking voice as she emits a slow groan, turning to shove her face into the pillow, her body curling away from yours in an act of indignance that only makes you laugh.

you were far too used to her acting like a baby, so the action only made you sit up on your knees, slinging a leg over her so you could straddle her sides, leaning down to pepper kisses against the side of her face as she lets out a string of groans that turn into halfhearted chuckles, until her hands are planted firmly against your thighs, bare due to the oversized IOWA shirt that she insisted on you wearing.

‘for good luck,’ you remembered her snickering, something you knew was really just ‘easy access’.

her voice is still hoarse from sleep, quiet and raspy and tinged with that midwestern accent that you’ll never give up on bullying her for, when she whispers, “dude, you’re so annoying.”

of course, she proves it by hoisting you off of her, onto the bed, simulating something like a WWE smackdown moment as she rolls over onto you, mumbling something that you really can’t decipher due to her face in your neck, your chest, basically every place she knows will pull that hysterical, annoyingly high pitched laugh out of you, that for some reason, she loves.

“can’t believe you made it here.” she murmurs quietly against your cheek, lips moving lazily against the skin before she lays a smacking kiss there, and it’s almost gross, how much saliva she uses, but you snicker anyway, hand coming up to stroke through her blonde strands.

in all honesty, you couldn’t really believe it either. it had been soemthing close to hell trying to get it all straightened out, from clothes to hotels, to transportation and getting from des moines to brooklyn, not to mention just how fucking exclusive it had been to even get a seat open with all the hype surrounding women’s college basketball, the posterity that the final four teams had brought to the sport— not to mention, the fact that you and kate weren’t public in the fucking slightest, so having to account for that definitely sucked.

of course, it was a huge accomplishment, one that would definitely go down in the history of sports in general, so of course it was a huge fucking honor that your girlfriend was apart of it—

but also, you just thought it was hot.

in fact, the thought makes you smirk to yourself, corners of your mouth curling upwards in a self righteous grin as you turned your head, bumping noses with her to whisper, “can’t wait to see you all dressed up, baby,” she snickers at that, and you kiss her lips once, twice, three times before continuing, “and, i can’t wait to see where you get drafted so i can buy myself a plane ticket.”

the subsequent groan you receive is expected, but it doesn’t deter you even slightly, “and to watch you play on a professional fucking team, like, kate, i’m basically wet thinking about it right now.”

that makes her laugh out loud, and it warms you just a bit to hear it.

it’s not like kate has been super confident about it recently, usually choosing to not speak or avoid talking about how bad she wants it— especially considering the night being mainly for caitlin, an old teammate of yours from school and one of kate’s best friends on the squad, and arguably, one of the best players in the league (next to kate, of course).

still, it didn’t change your focus, or the unyielding hope you had for the possibility of kate getting drafted— no matter how late in the draft it could be.

“babe, quit selling yourself short, okay? you’re a legend. it would be literally, fucking stupid to pass you up, okay?” she doesn’t respond at first, her eyes closed and lashes brushing her cheeks, before she flutters them open just a crack, blue peeking through as you offer her a grin, one that she only rolls her eyes to, but kisses you regardless. you knew how much she hated to talk about it, but it didn’t matter.

you knew you were right, anyway.

“mmmiloveyou.” it comes out in one smushed whisper against your mouth, before you nip at her bottom lip, hand sneaking under the sports bra she wore to bed to brush your thumb across her ribcage, “get off of me and get ready, okay?”

—

caitlin was top draft pick, which was heavily speculated and yet still unexpected to a degree as you stood from your seat with a cacophony of shouts and hollers from around you, pride swelling thick in your chest. you’d known the girl since you two had been in middle school— seeing the same tall little girl that had hated losing in an elementary school gym turn into such an infamous champion was something alike to a parent watching their kid go off to college or something, you’d swear it.

but, to say it was nothing short of nervewracking would somehow be an understatement, and as much as you felt the impending pressure with each name called, you could only imagine how kate must’ve felt.

it wasn’t hard to tell— the way her molars steadily worked the inside of her cheek, the way her tongue would dart out to wet her lips again and again. her hand, jittering too much to be held stationary within your own, drumming along your bare thigh beside your dress— ‘self soothing’, she’d explained in a whisper, a halfhearted, almost weakened smile on her face when you’d given her a lifted eyebrow at the hand placement considering the amount of cameras that surrounded you, but somehow, despite the rush of adrenaline, decided you didn’t care either.

thankfully, you both weren’t anywhere too accessible, but it still made you wonder whether kate had been bullshitting just how anxious she actually had been the whole time for her to need your touch so badly, and for an aching moment of tenderness as you glance at her, you want to kiss her, hard, rub the tension between her eyebrows, relax the trouble in her eyes.

still, gabbie and jada were good eyes too, considering anytime the camera would so much as even pan past you two, jada would hit you with a solid elbow, one to remind you that your poker face was shit, and perhaps you’d have to try just a little harder to pretend you weren’t totally, irrevocably in love with the woman beside you.

but slowly, it was all starting to click into place.

the cameras began panning to kate more and more, your own eyes flickering to the set and noticing how everytime you’d look, there’d be an official looking right past you, right at kate. a surge of excitement rose within you, one that had the words bubbling from your mouth in an urgent whisper,

“baby, i think—“

until an official, dressed in black with a wireless pair of headphones in each ear and a smile, touched kate’s shoulder.

“ms. martin, we’re gonna go ahead and have you and your party move down the aisle just a bit— there’s been a slight seating issue, if that’s okay with you guys?”

jada elbows you extra hard this time, and for some reason it solidifies that feeling you get, one that makes your heart leap as you all nod, getting to your feet without argument, only as kate turns to give you a look that’s supposed to be scolding, but fuck, you can see the glimmer of hope in it that makes your chest constrict, your eyes burn in pride.

“you’re giving me eyes, and for what?” she hums, the teeth against her cheek working overtime as you all settle into the new seats, kate at the end of the aisle, and a fluttery feeling in your chest, “no reason.” you say it almost smugly, as if you know something she doesn’t, and you don’t, but god, you can feel it.

the names fly off, left and right, number 16, and kate’s knee starts bouncing slightly, number 17 and your heart feels like it’s going way too fucking fast, number 18, and jada peers around you to glance at kate, and then…

las vegas, aces— kate martin.

if watching caitlin win had felt like a parent watching their child, this must’ve been adjacent to winning the fucking lottery.

you’re on your feet in mere seconds, the tears that had built finally dripping down your cheeks, a fact you’d only come to find embarrassing once you realize how visible they are on the playback, but fuck it, your girl was going pro.

she wastes no time in wrapping you up, her face ducking into your shoulder as your arms twine around her middle, thinking subconsciously of how you know you shouldn’t risk it, but kate doesn’t seem to mind, only releasing you with a single arm to embrace jada, and then gabbie, before she’s back to you.

of course, it doesn’t occur to you in the moment, that it’s a hard launch— no, it doesn’t really sink in until she kisses you hard against the temple before she’s breezing down the aisle, the subsequent eruption in applause leaving you starstruck, in silent awe.

after that, it’s somewhat of a blur— she takes her picture and accepts her jersey, the newscasters going off on some spiel about your girlfriends work ethic, her attitude, her endurance, everything you already fucking knew, had known for so long, that she’d finally have a chance to prove.

the moment she’s back beside you, it also doesn’t register to you that she must’ve been just as accepting about the reveal, because it’s only a second that she’s in her seat before she plants a soft kiss to your mouth, the dark lipstick you’d been steadily biting off in anxiety sticking to hers and she’s grinning, bigger than she had all day, and for a moment, you think you might actually collapse because god,

you love her. so fucking much.

“told you so,” you make out between the tears, smiling through the tightness in your voice that makes you sound warbled, whimpering even as she just laughs at you, her thumb careful to wipe beneath your eyes, “guess you did.”

of course, it’s only customary that after such a good night, everyone must get fucked up— so, that’s exactly what happens.

you get to gush to caitlin— hugging her tight around the neck and congratulating her a million times, to which she reciprocates when it comes to you and kate, garnering a blush on your already alcohol flushed cheeks, rolling your eyes as you punch her arm.

“whatever, fever.”

“whatever, ‘ace’.”

you pretend you don’t notice the quotations she puts around it, and give her a friendly middle finger instead— if kate was an ace, that meant you basically were too, at least by proxy.

“hey money,” you call to kate affectionately, seeing only the back of her head as she talks to gabbie, your arms sliding around her waist to hold her tight from behind.

“my love,” she greets with a smile, looking over her shoulder to pucker her lips at you, expecting a kiss that you so easily return. it feels fucking terrifying, in all honesty, to be so open, but you can’t find it within you to care enough to give it up— not when she’s this happy.

“dude, you totally knew, didn’t you? there’s no way you would’ve started crying like that unless you knew.” she’s drunk, chattering at a volume level beyond what’s needed considering you were right behind her, hand sneaking beneath her blazer, but you can’t help the way you shrug, “i’m always right, huh?”

later that night, she shows you just how right you are.

it’s past a decent hour to still be tugging off clothes from the night prior— the clock read four in the morning, but the windows spoke of the twinkling lights that surrounded, the city not quite awake, but never asleep.

“you’re a pro,” you hum against her mouth as you tug off her blazer, hands making quick work of the belt that kept you from exploring, smirking at the look she gives you, daring and all too fucking sexy, “it’s so hot to think about.”

“yeah?” her fingers hook beneath the straps of the dress until she’s dragging them down your shoulders, “you want me to show you how professionals do it?”

the next thing you know she’s between your legs, nothing but a white top and her slacks on, unbuttoned, as she hikes a leg over her shoulder, kisses along the inside of your thigh with an intensity only comparable to how she is after a really good game.

“fuck—!” it leaves your mouth in a sound that’s almost unrecognizable, the realization that you’d been pleasantly and uncomfortably horny ever since the draft had ended making itself known considering just how much kate had been unrelenting during press— hands on your hips or on the inside of your thigh, toying with the hair on the back of your neck or grasping the inside of your elbow to lead you along.

she knew it drove you crazy, you knew she’d make it up to you later.

her mouth makes easy work on you, tongue long and flat as she laps against your cunt, rough in all the ways that she knew you could handle— thumbs pressing fingerprint bruises into your skin, breath hot and heavy against your clit, hips moving on their own accord as you gasp out a string of incoherent whimpers. “shit, baby- just… just like that.”

it wasn’t like kate had ever failed at getting you off, but tonight, she performed as if it was her last game, greedy almost as she drinks you in, making sure to not leave one bit of you unchecked. her tongue is almost sinful in the way it makes your voice careen, high and whining, your hand finding a permanent tangle into her already mussed hair.

but she’s cocky tonight, presumptuous right before you orgasm as she raises her head to kiss your thigh, biting the skin before she’s climbing onto the bed beside you, too tall to be graceful, but you’re too fucking horny to even spare her the laughs you usually give.

“up, c’mere.” she’s breathless still, but she doesn’t let you rest for even a second, leaning across you to curl her fingers around your thigh to tug you up from your laying position, rousing you from the hazy, almost delirious state of mind as you push yourself up, letting out a shaking breath when she’s sliding your leg over her chest, hands grazing up the back of your thighs until she’s pulling you, right over over her mouth.

“kate, wha- you’re so— fuck.”

any semblance of words or sense seem to leave you in one second, as she flattens her tongue against the wetness that’s collected, the friction almost unbearable when her head tilted upwards, nose brushing hard against your clit in a way that pulls a cry from your lips. she’s unfaltering, diligent, unabashed in the way she’s moving your hips, the way she pairs each grind against her nose with a curl of her tongue, and really, it’s over before it fucking starts.

her mouth is glossy, damp when she’s done, and she smiles and it’s arrogant as she’s sliding you back down to sit you against her hips, the mere control she had of your body making you bright red as you pant pathetically, reduced to fucking nothing by her mouth.

it makes you throw your head back with a whimpering sigh, “don’t fucking look at me like that.” you complain, legs still open, thighs still trembling as she races her hands along them, “tired already?”

funnily enough, you were far from fucking tired.

“actually… was thinking about showing you some celebrity treatment?” you muse softly, as she peels off her own top, eyebrows raising, her thumb swiping along the edge of her lip before she’s placing it on the bottom of yours, pressing until it dips into your mouth, the heady taste of what you knew was yourself finding a place on your tongue.

she smirks, tongue poking between her teeth as your stomach fucking turns almost, arousal prickling unforgivingly at you once again.

“ooh,” she muses under her breath, eyes laser focused on the thumb she’d placed between your lips, voice coming out in a whisper, “i like the sound of that.”

she’s smirking though, because sex between you two have never been anything completely serious— that’s just not how kate operates, “ace money martin’s got a ring to it, huh?”

“shut up.”

“make me.”

so, you do.