#bros going though a rough time

[wowagae]

Guys I’m having JRWI brainrot but my fucking Apple Pencil is broken

Guys please

What do I do with myself

[aceofstars16]

My brain: time for emotions

Me, knowing why but also just wanting to go to sleep: oh, okay

[brainrotzora]

recent ffxiv livetweeting. spoilers through the end of arr patch quests btw.

[ilxiu]

i hate having to babysit other's emotions

[aakeysmash]

sukuna lets yuuji wear his jersey

a/n: this drabble contains angst that i didn’t want to spoil in the title (i’m so bad with titles y’all PLS bare with me okay)

college!sukuna masterlist

You know how football players usually give their jerseys to their girlfriends? College!Sukuna gives his to his little brother Yuuji.

You’re not big on sports, but Sukuna asked you to watch Yuuji a couple of times because he had “practice at the ass crack of dawn”. Seeing how ripped he is (you may or may not have walked in on him shaving his beard one time while he only had a towel wrapped around his waist) you already thought he did some kind of sport, but you never cared enough to ask him about it. It’s not until 6 months into your forced proximity that you come to know he’s actually really popular on campus.

It happens randomly. You just finished playing monopoly with Yuuji and you’re listening to your sweet little companion tell you he wants to help you cook this evening. You’re discussing what meal to cook when Sukuna comes home, late, as he did every day this week. He throws his gym bag near the living room door, gets his shoes off and grunts as a form of acknowledgment.

“You know, dogs usually bark more than you to say hi. Imagine being worse than an animal,” you say, not even looking at him, picking up the little plastic houses distributed on your table.

“Imagine never shutting the fuck up,” he answers, ruffling his still wet hair from a shower he must have taken not too long ago, not sparing you a glance either. You scowl, watching the water droplets fall on the freshly cleaned (by you) floor. Well, you have to admit he does look hot in his black hoodie. Black compliments his face tattoos really well, you think.

“Bro! Language!” His mini counterpart exclaims from in front of you, putting his hands on his hips, frowning. He looks like an old lady. A really cute and young old lady.

“Yeah, Sukuna, language,” you snort, flipping Sukuna off behind your back when Yuuji isn’t watching. The tattoed man, still standing by the door, narrows his eyes at you when you turn your back on him. Yuuji goes into his room to put the game away and leaves you two alone.

“You’re lucky I need the fucking money to live here or I would’ve fed your body to the really nice dogs who say hi by now,” your roommate says lowly, coming behind you and pushing you out of the way to lay on the couch. He pushes you harder than usual, so you stumble and bump your thigh on the table, muttering ouch and pouting. You’re pretty sure he didn’t control his strength like he usually does in your playful banters. You sit down to rub your sore spot, waiting for Yuuji to come back and start cooking with you, while he just puts his hood on his head and closes his eyes.

“Is this how you treat a lady?” You mumble, at which he scoffs, not even bothering to answer. As a natural conversation starter, you try to think of something to say. You think he looks like he could use a conversation, anyway. He’s been more distant this last week, but he always had his emo moments, so you didn’t think too much about it. Today his mood is darker than usual though, and for some reason, after six months of living together, that doesn’t sit well with you.

"How was tod-"

"Fine," He interrupts you. You're stunned by his roughness.

“Listen, tomorrow I was thinking of going-“

“Can you shut the fuck up?" He curtly barks, one of his eyebrows ticking.

You frown. "Hey, I was just-"

"I’m not joking. Shut up. Stop talking for one fucking day. God, you’re so fucking annoying,” he grits out, scrunching his eyes even more. At this, you close your mouth fast. Well, maybe he didn’t look like he wanted to have a conversation, at the end of the day.

After his outburst, the silence inside the living room is deafening.

You don’t want it to, but the tone he uses stings, even if you try not to let it get under your skin. You thought you two had become close enough to joke around this way, but you apparently guessed wrong. You just wanted to help, and he just shut you completely out. You just wanted to be a good… friend? Are you even friends?

Yuuji gets back and you stand up from the floor, going toward the kitchen. You wince when you put your weight on your leg.

You inhale deeply, reigning yourself in. “What do you think about… quesadillas?” You ask the little one calmly, and you see him beam.

“Yes, please! I want to learn how to make them good like you-“

“Kid, there’s a game tomorrow. Wanna come?” Sukuna interrupts you two. He’s still sitting on the couch with his eyes closed, but now he has his arms crossed too.

“Hell yeah!” Yuuji answers, jumping with his little fist in the air. Sukuna hums.

“Gotta tell coach. You still have the jersey from last time, yeah?” He asks, getting up from the couch and rolling his left shoulder. When it pops, he grimaces in pain a little.

“Of course I do,” the kid proudly says, looking up at his big brother with stars in his eyes. Standing next to each other they look like the ghost of the past and the ghost of the future from A Christmas Carol. Yuuji is dressed in bright yellow while if Sukuna had any more black on him he’d be a shadow. A chill runs up your spine. Spooky.

“Good,” Sukuna rasps out, solemnly getting the palm of his hand on his little brother’s head.

You start preparing the ingredients for dinner. “Are you eating with-“

“I’m going to sleep,” he interrupts you once again. He still hasn’t looked you in the eyes since he entered the apartment. You turn away, not wanting Yuuji to feel the shift in your mood by looking at your face.

“Goodnight, bro,” Yuuji says cheerfully. Your other roommate rushes inside his room, locking it from inside, and you and Yuuji are left standing in front of the stove in silence.

“Oh. Well,” you start talking again awkwardly, a fake chuckle coming through. “I guess that means he’s not eating with us,” you tell Yuuji, getting back to preparing the ingredients for your dinner, now for two.

“It’s a big game, you know,” Yuuji whisper shouts from next to you, overstuffing his quesadilla. “I already knew about it, but it feels nice when he asks me to go,” the kid continues, a small smile ever present on his lips. Your gaze softens.

“What sport and position are we talking about?” You ask him, handing him a piece of cheese to chew on while you finish preparing everything.

“He’s a quaftef bafck. He’f capftainf too,” Yuuji answers between bites. So he’s a football player. His strength makes sense now.

“You seem really proud of him, Yuuji,” you tell him sweetly, adoring the way he’s trying to get his point across by waving his hands in the air a lot.

He gulps down the cheese. “Yeah, big bro always lets me wear his jersey. He told me that if someone annoying has to be wearing it, then he might as well give it to me,” he smiles, big, while you inwardly cringe. Couldn’t be Sukuna if he didn’t say something that felt more like an insult than a compliment.

“Why is it an important game?” You ask, preparing one more quesadilla.

“Because he just became captain! It’s his first game as a captain!” The kid tells you, jumping a little on his chair and watching you, excited. Oh, is that why he looked like a bird just shat on him the whole week?

“Well, then you have to be his top supporter, don’t you think?”

The next morning, you wake up early to go grocery shopping. You wanted to ask Sukuna to come with you yesterday, but after the way he probably didn’t even notice he treated you, you really don’t feel like it. You get out of your bedroom door and are met with the sight of Yuuji already wearing his brother’s way too big jersey. You snap a pic when he’s still turned around. He looks so cute.

You go toward him, who is conveniently also toward the apartment exit. He hears your footsteps and looks at you expectantly.

“Can you help me tie the scarf?” He asks you, said scarf still in his hands. It's full of little drawings of tigers, which he told you are the mascots of the football team.

“Of course Yuuji. You look so good today, I bet your brother is really happy, mh?” You smile, getting at his eye level and wrapping the piece of cloth around his neck.

“I think he’s almost ready too!” He says, raising his eyebrows. Then, he assumes a confused expression. “Wait, aren’t you coming? I thought we were going together.”

You hesitate.

“I have to go grocery shopping today,” you answer, averting your gaze.

“Can’t it wait? It’s a really big game,” Yuuji pouts.

You hesitate again.

“I don’t think your brother wants me there, Yuuyuu,” you softly smile, trying to be nonchalant, finally securing the scarf and standing back up. You try not to look into the little boy’s eyes, because you’re sure you aren’t that good at masking your feelings.

“But he was-“

“Brat, are you ready?” Comes Sukuna’s voice from down the hall. You push Yuuji toward the approaching footsteps, mouthing Go! He’s talking to you! The child looks back at you like he wants to tell you something, but you ignore it. You hastily open the door to get out, managing to catch Sukuna’s gaze only a spare second before closing it behind your back. You stiffen. Then, you walk away.

Inside the apartment, Sukuna puts on a confused expression, matching his sibling’s one.

“Where did she go? Nevermind. We’re late, Yuuji. Run, or I’ll leave you here,” he hurries out, grabbing his house keys, hands sweating and feet carrying him to the stadium, while Yuuji tries to follow him.

When the Itadori brothers come back home, Yuuji screaming and Sukuna grinning like a madman for his team’s victory, you’re not there.

“Awh, I wanted to let her know you won,” says Yuuji pouting. In your place, there’s a sticky note on the fridge, which looks like it’s been there since this morning. In the haste of leaving, they both didn't notice it.

Go Tigers!!! P.S. for Sukuna: I left some quesadillas in the fridge. Good luck, captain.

Yuuji claps his hands, saying you must have made more yesterday after dinner when he was asleep, happy to be eating something good two days in a row. Meanwhile, Sukuna can’t take his eyes off the little piece of paper.

“Yo, do you know where she went to this morning?” He asks Yuuji, who is getting out a plate to microwave the food.

“She said she went grocery shopping. She said you didn’t want her at the game,” his little brother responds, lightly and not worried at all, like this is a reoccurring conversation.

“What?” Scoffs Sukuna, baffled, whipping his head toward his brother’s. When did he ever say something like that?

“Well, she said she thought you didn’t want her there,” specifies Yuuji, shrugging, getting two forks and two knives to put on the kitchen table. “I tried telling her you bought her a ticket too! But I don’t know, she seemed…” he stops, thinking about the correct words to say, now looking directly at his big brother’s eyes. “She seemed sad,” he finishes, muttering.

Right then, a tube of cream for bruises put near the coffee machine catches Sukuna’s eyes. He grits his teeth. He thinks back to yesterday, and to the way you rushed out this morning. To the way you obviously tried to ignore him when you locked his gaze. To the way your ticket never left his pocket, because he never properly asked you to come.

Suddenly, the words on the sticky note burn on his skin like a fresh tattoo.

Shit.

[wttcsms]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ when they act this way (i know i got 'em) !!

ᝰ.ᐟ kiyoomi sakusa is used to getting what he wants, and what he wants most right now is you. too bad you’re the biggest fucking tease in the world. fine by him, though. because when he gets his hands on you — and he will — you’re going to see what exactly all your thirst traps did for him. ( fem!reader )

pairing kiyoomi sakusa x reader word count 3.6k content contains angry sex/rough sex, overstimulation, semi-public location, pop star!reader, cheeky/bratty to sub!reader 😭, he manhandles you a bit, creampie kinktober masterlist

“What’s his fuckin’ problem?” Atsumu grumbles, tossing his sweaty practice jersey onto one of the benches, mindful of avoiding the bench Sakusa is currently occupying. He takes this extra precaution since he doesn’t want to get yelled at again by Sakusa, who did snap at Atsumu five seconds prior for almost getting his dirty jersey thrown on top of him. 

“Maybe you just stink, ‘Tsumu.” Bokuto’s grinning, but Hinata shakes his head, gesturing for both of his teammates to come closer so he can whisper to them.

“I think Omi’s in a bad mood because he’s mad.” 

“No shit, Ginger!” Atsumu groans. “People who are in bad moods are usually mad. We didn’t need you to spell it out for us.” 

“You didn’t let me finish!” Hinata whisper-shouts. “He’s been looking at [Name] [Surname]’s Instagram since before practice ended.” 

“Who the hell is that?” Atsumu hisses, and Bokuto hits him on the shoulder. 

“Bro! That singer!”

“Yeah, that clears shit up.” Atsumu rolls his eyes, yanking open his locker to find a clean shirt to wear. “Why would Omi be mad at lookin’ at some girl’s Instagram?”

The trio is silent for a moment before a lightbulb practically appears over Bokuto’s head.

“Hey! Maybe she got a boyfriend, and he’s jealous!”

The group ponders this hypothetical. 

“Why would Kiyoomi get jealous, though?” Hinata asks. “It’s not like he’s dating her or anything.”

“Unless they had some weird situationship shit goin’ on.” Atsumu suggests. “Should we ask? Shoyo, go ask him.”

“Why do I have to ask?” 

“Nope. She didn’t post anything with a boyfriend…” Bokuto mumbles, scrolling through your feed. 

“Lemme see.” Atsumu snatches the phone from Bokuto’s hands and lets out a wolf whistle. “She’s hot. No wonder Omi-Omi’s pissed off.” 

“Huh?” Hinata whines. “Let me see, too!”

Atsumu faces the screen towards Hinata. “She’s the type of pretty that makes you mad just ‘cause ya can’t have her.” 

The girl on the screen is you. Posted not even an hour ago but already generating over six hundred thousand likes, Hinata understands what Atsumu means. Your back is turned towards the stage you’re on, but you’re looking back, giving the camera a coy smirk. You’ve got a rhinestone bedazzled microphone in one hand, and you’re wearing the shortest baby-blue minidress in existence; so short, in fact, that because your knees are bent just a bit, the current pose you’re sporting causes the fabric of your dress to rise, giving everyone viewing the image an unfiltered view of the built-in panties of the dress. The caption speaks volumes: too much for you to handle?. 

“You realize I could hear you idiots the whole entire time, right?” Sakusa doesn’t sound very happy, and Atsumu is quick to shove the phone back into Bokuto’s hands. “I’m not in a bad mood, and I’m not mad, and I don’t care about [Name] [Surname].” He grabs his gym bag, making a face at the trio, before storming out of the locker room. 

Sakusa’s upset, and his bad mood only sours more whenever he realizes that his idiotic teammates are more perceptive than he would like. Yes, he was mad at practice the minute he saw your latest post. And why wouldn’t he be? It’s clear that you’re fucking sub-posting him. You would’ve been better off just DM’ing him yourself and asking that stupid question.

Too much for you to handle? 

Fuck you, he thinks bitterly. Before realizing that, yes, that’s exactly what he wants to do to you. 

Everyone knows it, including you, which makes the whole situation even worse. Your mutual friends keep trying to persuade the two of you to finally ease the tension and just get a room, but Sakusa’s always been a touch too prideful. 

The two of you have always been constantly warring with each other; you’ve got the coy, flirty, cocky personality that doesn’t mesh well with his own stoic, cold, perpetually unimpressed one. You always flirt with him, but he’s seen you flirt with everyone — it’s basically your whole brand. It’s precisely what your popstar image is built upon — the fun, flirty idol who’s carefree and the poster girl for no-strings-attached. 

And Sakusa, for what it’s worth, is a very strings-and-all type of man. 

The reason why he won’t pursue you is because you’re the first person to catch him off guard. He can’t get a good read on you. He has no clue what your intentions actually are, and he’s not about to make a fool of himself by asking you if you’re serious when you told him you were.

That stupid fucking party — he knew he shoudn’t have attended. It was another teammate’s birthday, and he was hosting it at his place, and since it wasn’t a nightclub or anything, Sakusa assumed it was safe enough to attend. Too bad he forgot that his teammate was dating some other singer, someone who happens to be one of your friends. 

Everyone there kept pushing the two of you together, and as the night progressed and everyone was getting drunker and drunker, there was intoxicated, slurred commentary on how the two of you just needed to fuck once and get each other out of your systems. 

“It’s true.” Even with heels, you’re still shorter than Sakusa, and you have to get on the tips of your toes to whisper in his ear. “You wanna know the reason why we haven’t had sex yet?” 

“Because I’m not interested.” He tells you flatly. He’s lying, and you know it. 

You pout, your plush bottom lip on display. “It’s because I don’t want you out of my system, and I’m hoping you don’t want to get rid of me either.” 

He snorts, even though his heart jumps at the thought. He wants to tell you to quit playing these games and be serious, but he doesn’t. Instead, he keeps himself guarded. “Like I said. Not interested.” 

“Why won’t you just give in?” You tilt your head. “You scared? Or maybe…” The dress you’re wearing makes your legs look even longer. Every centimeter of bare skin you expose has him spiraling into overdrive. He maintains his facade of nonchalance and looks you in the eyes, looking entirely unimpressed with your antics. “I’m too much for you to handle? Wouldn’t want to go around breaking Japan’s favorite outside hitter, after all.” 

You smile at him, giving a tiny giggle. “Yeah. I think that’s exactly the reason.” 

Sakusa is many things, and you somehow negate everything. He’s blunt; you either leave him speechless or determined to lie to save face. He’s generally unaffected by most people; you get under his skin. He doesn’t like being made out to be a fool; you make him feel like the biggest idiot, and other people know it too. He likes to have everything in his life sorted out properly; you and him have nothing but unfinished business. 

Let it be known that Kiyoomi Sakusa only came to your concert rehearsal purely because he wanted to get closure. When he walked into the stadium, hands in his pockets, watching you dance on the stage, he did not intend for you to immediately halt practice. He did not intend for you to gesture for him to follow you, and he did not intend to be taken backstage. There’s surprisingly less people back here than he thought, and you explain to him that it’s because rehearsal technically starts two hours later. You just wanted to run through it beforehand, to warm up. 

(Sakusa admires that about you; no one ever seems to acknowledge the hard work you put in, and it’s your work ethic, really, that slowly started to endear you to him.) 

Let it be known that Kiyoomi Sakusa had absolutely no intention of fucking you backstage. Because, in his defense, you have a way of making him act entirely out of character.

The constant teasing, the back and forth, your coy smiles and flirtatious remarks that he can never truly decipher. And here you are, standing all pretty in your sparkly minidress, and you just keep taunting him. Even when he’s trying to have a serious conversation with you, all you do is skate around his questions. It’s like your default mode is set to toying with men. 

“Seriously,” he grits his teeth, backing you into one of the walls. You’re completely cornered by him now. It’s easy to forget how much bigger Sakusa truly is. He towers over you, makes you feel like a little kitten backed into an alleyway by a big dog. “You can’t take me seriously for one fucking second?”

His brows are furrowed, and he’s frowning. Somehow, the sight of him angry only gets you more excited. You like Sakusa. You like him much more than you originally anticipated, and this whole cat-and-mouse charade is just that: a charade. Of course you meant it when you kept flirting with him. But you’re not used to being the one who has to chase after someone, and you refuse to give in now. With both of you having too much of an ego to give in, it’s a battle of individual pride now. 

A battle that you think you might lose once you and him both realize that you’re pressing your thighs together to apply some pressure to the growing need between your legs. 

“Are you—?” He lets out a short, sharp laugh. “Fucking slut. You really did want me to fuck you this whole entire time.” He takes another step towards you; there’s no more space for you to back into. You’re already pressed against the wall, and now he’s looming over you, an impossible obstacle to get over. Somehow, you don’t mind being trapped, as long as it’s Kiyoomi Sakusa that’s holding you down. 

“You wish.” You try to sound snarky, but it’s hard when Sakusa is looking down at you like that. Dark eyes, strands of hair hanging down his forehead, a cold, calculating smile on his face as he watches the subtle rise and fall of your chest as you struggle to breathe normally. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he’s capable of hearing how fast your heart is beating. 

“So you don’t want me to fuck you?” It should be illegal for his voice to get this low, to sound this husky. He’s leaning down far enough to where he can whisper this question in your ear, and your breath hitches as you feel thick fingers toying with the waistband of your panties. 

Right now, you are backstage, and your employees and team could be coming in any second now, and you don’t care. You don’t care, because all you care about is the fact that Kiyoomi Sakusa has you pressed against the wall, and his hand is up your dress, and he’s about to make his way into your panties. 

You gasp as you feel two of his fingers press directly against your clit, before traveling downwards and toying with your folds. There’s no actual penetration, just the tantalizing touch of his fingers rubbing against you, gathering up your slick. 

You make a tiny noise, and Sakusa chuckles softly. “You’re so wet, it feels like you want me, though.” The tips of his fingers prod at your entrance, only for him to abruptly remove his hand altogether, leaving your needy hole clenching and grasping at nothing. You whine as he examines his fingers, separating his index and middle fingers, allowing the both of you to watch closely as viscous strands of your juices coat his digits. He shrugs nonchalantly, leaning away from you. “I’ll let you get back to your rehearsal.” 

“No!” You shut your eyes, cheeks burning with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. You bite down on your lip before opening your eyes, peering up at him through thick lashes. “I-I do want you.” You’re mumbling, but it’s clear Sakusa’s heard you, loud and clear. 

“Sorry, what was that?” 

You’re wet, unsatisfied, and absolutely down bad for Kiyoomi. You’ve wanted him for months now, and he has you right where he wants you: so needy that you’re willing to let him do whatever he wants to you backstage. The thrill of potentially being caught, the excitement of finally just giving in to your desires… 

“I want you, Sakusa. Please.” You beg him, rubbing your thighs together to try and get some sort of friction. “I need you.”

“Yeah, I know.” Sakusa might sound cocky, but there’s something equally needy in his touch. He’s back to pressing you against the wall, leaving practically no space between the two of you. He plants his hand right back into your panties, stroking your folds a few times, gathering the slick only to insert two fingers right where you need him most. He watches your expression, the way you try to tilt your head back, your little moans of pleasure as he starts to thrust his fingers in and out. 

“You could’ve had me sooner if you weren’t busy playing coy all the damn time.” Sakusa frowns, as if the memory of how long you’ve had him chasing after you has suddenly been brought back to his attention. When he says this, he picks up speed, pistoning his digits. You’re getting even wetter now, the lewd sound of him toying with your cunt the only noise in this empty backstage. He’s adding a third finger into the mix, now, and your cunt tries to resist, fails to adapt to the thickness of three of his fingers. 

“Mmph — ‘Kusa, slow — fuck!” You whine out, unable to speak properly as your walls clamp down on his digits. He presses his thumb against your clit, rubbing rough, unforgiving circles on the nub, never slowing down the pace of his fingers, even when you beg him to take it easy. “I’m gonna— I’m gonna cum!” You wail out, legs almost failing you from the force of your orgasm. 

The only thing keeping you upright is Sakusa himself. He wraps an arm around your waist, keeping you steady, but even after watching you fall apart from just his fingers, Sakusa isn’t satisfied. You little brat — you’ve been depriving him of seeing your precious, pretty face you make when you cum, and as a result, you’ve also been depriving yourself of all the pleasure that could’ve been yours, that’s rightfully yours, all because you wanted him to chase after you. 

Well, he’s got you now. 

And he’s going to want to give you both what the two of you have been missing out on, plus interest. 

You’re still recovering from your climax, legs feeling like jelly, vision blurry as you try to blink out the haze of pleasure from your vision, when you feel him shove the fabric of the skirt of your dress into your open mouth. 

“Bite down on this.” He grunts out, and you follow his command as if it’s simply second nature to. “Be a good girl, and keep holding it up, okay?” 

You nod weakly, but it’s easier said than done when you almost let out a gasp as you feel the tip of his cock prodding at your soaked entrance. Your eyes go wide, and he smirks at the sight of the country’s most beloved pop star reduced to nothing but his little slut. Your mouth is shoved with the fabric of your dress, keeping it up so he can continue to admire the sight of your wrecked pussy, still sensitive from when he banged you with his fingers. Your panties are pulled down, a crumpled mess around your ankles, and there’s drool gathering ‘round the corners of your mouth, your lipgloss staining the fabric of your dress. Messy girl. His messy girl.

It’s easy for him to slide into your needy hole, and he hisses when he feels the way your walls clench around his cock, squeezing him. There’s no better feeling, he decides, than the feel of your pretty, needy pussy yielding to him with absolutely no resistance. Even your cunt knows who owns it now. 

A soft whine, muffled by the dress occupying your mouth, slips from your lips. Sakusa’s cock is thick. Thicker than anyone else’s you’ve ever taken. It sinks into your snug cunt with a push forward that you feel entirely unprepared for, even though you’re so wet, it’s easy work for him to make himself at home in your pussy. 

His pace is unforgiving. He gives you no time to adjust, and he doesn’t seem to care about the way your pussy is still recovering from his fingers. He wastes no time in pounding into you, and even he’s panting at the exertion he’s exercising. Some tiny strands of his black curls are stuck on his forehead from the sweat, and you can’t help but think that Sakusa is beautiful, even when he’s scowling and fucking into you with a fervor that feels like he’s treating this like the only time he’s going to fuck you. 

You hope that isn’t true. You knew that the minute you’d get a taste of Sakusa, you’d never want to let him go. 

“Fuck.” He hisses, never slowing down his pace. He’s being rough, almost brutal. It’s like he’s chasing after his own pleasure, forcing you to find your release all on your own. But the thing is, it’s so easy to come apart. It’s so easy to come apart when you think about how this is Sakusa’s cock battering into you, how it’s Sakusa that’s panting and groaning from pleasure, how it’s Sakusa that is making your pussy his. You keep clenching down on his length, making it harder for him to continuously thrust in and out of you. “Fuck.” He repeats. “It’s like you don’t want to let me go.” 

You can’t speak, can’t tell him that it’s the truth, that you want him here forever. 

The echoing sound of the entrance of the building opening and then slamming close has your eyes going wide with fear. Someone has just entered. 

You’re now acutely aware of how loud the noises the two of you are making. The constant wet, slapping noises of his skin against yours, your messy pussy making a mess between your thighs and on his dick, his groans, your weak whimpers. All of it is now suddenly amplified as you listen in fear — and excitement — as footsteps echo around the hall. 

“[Name]?” Someone calls out. Your assistant. Fuck. 

You look up at Sakusa, curious as to why he’s still not stopping, but he only holds a finger to his lips, telling you to be quiet. “I haven’t finished yet.” He whispers into your ear, and you shake your head, panicking. 

“No? You want me to stop?” He buries his cock to the fucking hilt, shoving himself so deeply inside of you, you let out a surprised, pleasured squeal. “I’ll stop if you cum on my cock. For a slut like you, that should be easy.” 

You want to protest, you want to snap back that you are not a slut, but it’s hard to prove him wrong when his words, his cock, only have you tightening around him. He chuckles as he feels the pressure of your pussy clamping down on his dick, and he resumes fucking into you. 

Your hips start to buck needily against his, the pleasure making you feel delirious and reckless. You seem to have ditched all common sense, and as the footsteps continue to echo throughout the building, sounding closer and closer to where the two of you are currently fucking like rabbits in heat, you only succumb to the delirious, delicious heat of pleasure. Legs wrapping around his tight waist, you succumb hopelessly and happily to the pleasure he seems to effortlessly wring out of you, your body needily twisting and pushing against him, needing more of him. Your moan is long and would’ve been drawn out had he not pressed a calloused palm against your mouth. The dress fabric falls from your lips, and your moan is silenced as you stare up at him. He doesn’t look angry, just pleased. 

He’s turned you into such a little fucked out mess that he made you cum on his cock, despite the fact that there is someone else roaming this place, calling out for you. 

If only he got here sooner; then, he could’ve played with you for a bit longer, toy with you the way you’ve been toying with him. You’re lucky that he doesn’t plan on getting caught being balls deep in you, even though the idea of announcing to the world that you’re his gets him off. 

Muffling his own moan of pleasure by biting down on the soft skin between your neck and shoulder, Sakusa finishes deep into your wrecked cunt, letting out ropes and ropes of hot, white spurts of cum. He’s panting, removing his mouth from your skin, licking at the bite he left on your soft skin, as if to apologize. 

Both of your chests are rising and falling, the two of you greedily gulping for more air. He pulls out, a few drops of his cum already leaking out of your cunt. 

“This isn’t over.” He mutters, pulling up your panties, a puddle of his cum starting to pool into the seat of your underwear. He fixes your dress, smooths the fabric, and plants a surprisingly chaste kiss on your spit-slick lips. “Unless this really was a one time thing?” 

“As if this was ever going to be a one time thing.” You’re too tired to roll your eyes, but when he smiles, you find enough energy to smile back. “There’s a backdoor over there that you can leave. No one will see you.” 

“I’ll text you later.” He tells you, straightening his back and walking to the exit you just directed him to. “Like I said, this isn’t over.” 

Everyone on your team is worried when, during rehearsals, you complain that your legs are too sore to do the choreography.

[luvjunie]

earth 42 miles reaction to reader hanging up the phone on his face mid argument?

— facetime

pairing: e-42!miles (aged up) x fem!reader

contains: arguing, minimal cursing, slightly toxic behavior lol

summary: you love miles, but his overbearing nature is beginning to irritate you. the two of you get into an argument over it on facetime, and you snap at him and hang up the phone. wc: 1,537

a/n: ik the pic might not make sense regarding who hung up on who, but i like it so we finna pretend it does lol. miles/reader are only aged up for plot

“look mami, you not hearin’ me. i’m not tryna control you, i’m just saying maybe it would be best if-“

“that is literally you trying to control me.”

you cut miles off from another one of his mini tangents as you stared at him through the facetime call on your screen, so far beyond the point of caring to hear the same thing he’d told you a million times.

you loved your boyfriend with everything in you. honestly, you did. but in the last few months he’d grown to be so much more controlling than he was in the beginning, a result of his ridiculous need to protect you and it’s got your head spinning on your shoulders. you couldn’t do anything without him looming over you, and you’re fed up. it was suffocating, and you needed him to know that you could handle yourself.

you heard his voice come in again from your phone’s speakers.

“aight fine, if that’s what you wanna think, then that’s cool. but i don’t want you going out that late, chiquita, simple. ain’t no discussion.”

“alright, bro.” you sighed, and he tutted at you.

“i’m not your ‘bro’. don’t do that.”

while you knew your boyfriend only wanted the best for you, you didn’t really understand the extent to all these rules he’d given you. like no going to the corner store at night, having to keep your location on at all times, or having to send a picture of yourself when you’d gotten back into the house— so he could really make sure it was actually you texting him from your phone.

since then, you’d deemed it safe to assume that he most likely had immense trust issues, and that was why he acted so strangely, because any other reason for this kind of behavior seemed ludicrous to you.

miles had yet to tell you he was the prowler, that certain people had bounties on his head, which included anyone who may be involved with him, anyone he holds close to him. he saw everything that went on in this city— when night had fallen and the streets became far too dangerous of a place for a defenseless girl like you to be out in them. you had no idea the kind of people he dealt with, the things he’d seen, the things he had to do. he just didn’t want you to get hurt, but he wasn’t the best at expressing the sincerity of his words, and they often came out too rough, too harsh. it was the best he could do, he was trying to communicate effectively, he really was. but time and time again you’d failed to try and understand his pleas past the words spoken to you; to actually listen to them, and comprehend them, and not just listen to respond.

so, being you, you retorted like the stubborn girl you always were. the stubborn girl he’d fallen so helplessly in love with and was only trying to protect with his entire being.

you scoffed, rolling your eyes at him in disbelief. “look, you can’t tell me what to do, miles. i can do what i want.”

he didn’t hear anything that came from your mouth, because the expression on your face had completely distracted him from the conversation at hand.

“hol’ on, did you just roll your eyes at me?” his brow raised, daring you to answer that question with anything but a ‘no’.

what you responded with wasn’t necessarily a ‘yes’ per sé, but it definitely wasn’t any better.

“oh, so you wanna control my face now, too? dictating what i do with my life or the shit i say isn’t enough for you?” you challenged.

his head dipped back as he laughed, a deep, provoked laugh— though the both of you knew nothing was funny, and that this was always how he reacted before he actually got angry. laughing it off was a means for him to screw his head back on right, as if a warning to you to not push him too far, because anybody who spoke to him with this kind of gall just had to be joking.

he exhaled heavily, a hand scrubbing down his face.

“can’t lie, you talkin’ mad crazy right now, ma. i think you need to cool it with that.” he warned, corners of his lips turned into a forewarning leer. “ima let that lil’ shit you just said slide, cause i love you, and ion wanna hurt your feelings, but we done talking about this.” he decided, leaning forward to prop his phone back up on his desk before scooping his playstation controller back up into his hands.

“and watch your mouth.”

chin retreating towards your chest, you were taken aback at how quickly he decided for the both of you that the conversation was over, as if you had to agree with him, as if things were decided simply because he’d said so. and somehow, you found it in all your unbridled nerve to make things worse.

“yeah, you’re right. we are.”

thumb pressing to the red X, you hung up the phone, leaving miles to gape at the black of his screen with shock etched into his features. he waited for you to call back and tell him it was an accident, and sat there for a minute, leg bouncing to maintain what little patience he’d managed to cling onto during this entire ordeal. he swallowed his pride and called you back, only for the screen to read ‘facetime unavailable’ after just two rings. you declined it. squaring his jaw, he calmly nodded to himself, phone snatched up, jacket thrown on and controller tossed onto his bed— game forgotten about.

“bet.”

____

you were fuming after you’d hung up the phone, steam probably would’ve been puffing from your ears if something like that were possible outside of the cartoons. there was a tiny part—no, a huge part of you that knew you shouldn’t have hung up on him like that; that regretted it. a part that knew miles’ was genuinely trying his best to speak to you calmly in the way he’d learned how, specifically for you, when calm was something he rarely ever felt. but you couldn’t help your anger either, and figured a break from the conversation, and a shower to calm you down would do the both of you some good.

you sauntered out your bathroom after about twenty minutes, a towel tightly wrapped round your damp torso and a heavy, depleted exhale departing from your lungs.

you felt relaxed. the heat of the water had washed away most, if not all of your anger towards the situation and you sighed to yourself, ready to come back to the discussion with a level head, and to apologize to your boyfriend for snapping at him and ending the call so abruptly. it was rude of you, and honestly you hadn’t thought it through until you had already—

“you know, ion usually fuck with cats like that, cause y’all kinda freak me out. but you cool.”

the inner dialogue of your thoughts were cut off by a familiar voice, muffled through the shut door of your bedroom.

“what the fuck—“ you hurriedly started towards the door, hand barely remaining on the doorknob for a second as you flung it open, to see none other than your boyfriend, miles, sat in your desk chair with your cat, bella, in his lap.

he was leaned back, his large green puffer jacket still on, legs spread in his grey sweats. he looked very comfortable for someone who had just broken into a home.

“how the hell did you get into my house, miles?”

you stared at him unbelievingly, quickly shutting the door behind you. he was in no rush to lift his head to address you directly as he scratched the underside of bella’s chin with his pointer finger.

“window. you should really lock that.”

“even if i had, you would’ve picked it.” you argued.

“true.”

his eyes eventually met yours, and they gave you a drawn out once over, gaze following the drops of water that rolled down your skin. there was a hint of a smirk on his lips, and he almost forgot what he came here for. almost.

you felt your face heat up, grip tightening over your bath towel as you shifted on your feet, suddenly feeling flustered from the boldness of his gaze. so he looked away.

“let’s hope that shower gave your mama some of her sense back, huh?” he dipped his head down to address your cat in a sweet voice, before gently lifting her off his lap and placing her back onto the floor, only for her to drag her head and body along his calf with a purr. traitor.

he leaned back once more, hands patiently clasped between his open legs and head cocked to the side, twin braids swishing behind him when he did so.

“so wassup? you wanna try that conversation again?” with a brow raised he studied your features, as if he were silently challenging you to talk that same shit you did over the phone to his face.

“do you know what boundaries are?”

“nah, not really.” he admitted.

you swallowed, gesturing towards the open room for a reason you didn’t know why.

“can i at least get dressed first?” you cringed at how your voice sounded when you spoke, but the way he was looking at you had your mind reeling and you could only focus on one thing at a time— the argument long forgotten. to be honest, you don’t even recall what you had a problem with.

he shrugged. “sure, if that’s what you’d like.” arms crossing over his chest he spun around in your swivel chair, now facing the same window he’d come in through. “lemme know when i can turn around.”

you sighed.

this boy was going to be the death of you.

- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms!

likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated 💗

[yanderenightmare]

TW: NSFW, yandere, stepcest

fem reader

Creep Step-bro – who steals the keys to your shared bathroom on account that you use too much time in there. He’ll barge in when you’re in the shower in the mornings to take a piss even though you squeal at him to get out. You’ll turn around to hide, still needing to wash out the shampoo from your hair, annoyed “ughs” and curse words leaving you – and he’ll sneak a snide look, watching the soapsuds and water run over the plump of your ass, glossy skin, perfect curve, down between your thighs and legs.

When you grab the towel, you sneer at him, “asshole,” before stomping out. He’ll shrug his shoulders, brushing his teeth with jaded eyes – casually pushing his hips forward against the sink, acting like he doesn’t have a boner he plans on rubbing out to the pretty picture of your wet naked body along with that cute scowl on your face.

You’re practically begging for it walking about the house in those little pajama shorts – so tiny he can see the crease of your cheek, so tight he can see the puffy outline of your cunt. Not to mention the loose tank top you wear with it. Sometimes without a bra on. The round of your soft titties going jump on every step you take.

Of course, he’s going to use any excuse to brush up against you. Coming behind you when you stand in the kitchen – prepping snacks for you and the gaggle of girlfriends held up in your room. He’ll push his crotch against the fat of your ass, pretending to reach for a bowl in the cupboard above you, and you’ll whine out something like “ew, gross, personal space-” but he’ll only savor the struggle even more – only raising his brow at you when you turn around with a strict pointer pressed up beneath his chin, telling him with a frown how he better not perv on any of your friends.

Shit- you’re so clueless…

Clueless as to how he robs your panties from the laundry bin and fucks the silky lace until they fray from his rough handlings – how he winds it so tight it strangles his cock, scrunching his face while imagining it’s your tight pussy before he blows his messy load into the dainty thing – loving the thought of you cluelessly walking around in them. 

Sure, it’s been washed since then, but still… 

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Shoto, Denki, Kirishima, Shigaraki, Dabi, Hawks ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Mahito, Geto, Gojo, Toji, Yuuta, Choso ♡ HQ – Kageyama, Kuro, Miya twins, Suna, Tendou ♡ CSM – Denji ♡ BLLK – Reo ♡ AOT – Eren ♡ DS – Sanemi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[miryum]

☆ 18+ minors dni ☆

Frat!Jason Todd who was Vice President of Epsilon Theta Alpha. He had joined the frat when he was a freshmen and even though his rough and tough demeanour suggested otherwise, he was probably one of the most rule-abiding of the frat. But just because he was rule abiding didn’t mean he wasn’t an arrogant little shit

Frat!Jason Todd who began dating you literally a month into freshman year. He waved off your concerns that freshman relationships never lasted and promised then and there in the dining hall that he would put a ring on your finger the moment they threw their caps at graduation

Frat!Jason Todd who knew what he wanted and wasn’t going to let something as simple as ‘not knowing you for long’ get in his way

Frat!Jason Todd who brought you around the frat house so much that you became an integral part. Dick Grayson, the President of Epsilon Theta Alpha, even began to think of you as a sister

Frat!Jason Todd who loved how your relationship grew throughout the years. It didn’t matter if it was freshman year or senior year, he stayed by your side religiously and loved you all the same

Frat!Jason Todd who would get grumpy when he couldn’t see you for a while and everyone in the frat noticed it

Frat!Jason Todd who, for example, stayed at university during winter break freshman year and just pouted and whined the entire time. He called you every day, even though, at that point, you two had only been together a month or two

Frat!Jason Todd who was so relieved when you returned to campus and the next year (and every year after) you would take him home to spend the holidays with you and your family to save yourself from the grumpy boyfriend he would become when separated from you

Frat!Jason Todd who was very proud that your family loved him and he always returned back to the frat ladened with leftovers and sweets

Frat!Jason Todd who was also pretty big on working out. You had been hesitant at first, because of the stereotypical gym bros, but you soon came to appreciate his physique

Frat!Jason Todd who cajoled you into laying either on his back or under him whenever he was doing push ups. If he wanted you to lay on top of him, it was always, “but baby, I need a challenge. Push ups just aren’t doing it anymore. And if I have my darling girlfriend laying on me, then I get snuggles and a workout.” Sometimes, you read while feeling his muscles bend and contract underneath you as he worked, but other times you just held on and pressed lazy kisses to his skin. Whenever he wanted you to lay under him, there was never much complaining from you. You happily laid on the floor and gave him a quick kiss every time he descended. “Love you,” you would mutter and he would grin and reply with his own love

Frat!Jason Todd who also loved to play wrestle. Neither of you ever knew how it would start, but you would find yourself giggling and trying to tackle Jason on the floor. Of course, he would likely let you win, but there were always a couple of times when he would just flip you over and let out a pretend roar before smothering you with kisses

Frat!Jason Todd who didn’t mind that the play wrestling usually ended in hickeys and love bites

Frat!Jason Todd who wasn’t as much of a book nerd as other variants. He maybe was an English minor, but not a major. Whether that was just because he felt as if a frat guy shouldn’t be an English major, or he just preferred his major (pre-law), no one really knew. Jason confessed to you one night, late freshman year, that he wanted to go into law to help those who were growing up like he did. He wanted to fight against big corporations that kept kids confined to Crime Alley and he wanted to fight for the mothers and fathers who were getting swindled out of their homes

Frat!Jason Todd who much preferred to stay up in his room with you then go down to the party raging on the first floor of the frat. It had become a routine: lock the door (you two had learned that the hard way after a wayward couple barged in one time looking for a place to bang. Jason had promptly kicked them out with some well placed swearing and slammed the door behind them), fill the popcorn bowl, and settle in with a movie

Frat!Jason Todd who, however, every once in a while, would venture downstairs with you under his arm and indulge in a little partying. He would pour you a tiny amount of alcohol into a cup if you wished, but never drank a drop himself. Even if he was part of a frat, he was still the same Jason with the brutal memories of parents who hit or screamed when inflicted by alcohol. That didn’t mean that he didn’t enjoy a bit of beer or wine in private with you, but he wanted to stay vigilant around others who were drunk

Frat!Jason Todd who’s favourite thing to do at parties was dance. More specifically, watch you dance. He would stay right next to you, holding your hands or your hips as you sang along to the music. His eyes would never leave you, trailing up and down your body along with his hands. Another activity he liked whenever there was a party was to crowd you into a corner, arms braced by your head and just make out. He loved that bit of voyeurism, but would never take it farther than kisses when it came to you. He was incredibly protective and didn’t want to share you with anyone else

Frat!Jason Todd who was a very inconsistent lover. Let’s explain: he clearly loved you a lot and had told you a million times over. He wanted to pleasure you as such, so sometimes he took his sweet time with you that left you very impatient. Other times, however, he saw a guy checking you out and couldn’t help but bruise your hips as his slammed his own into you later that night

Frat!Jason Todd who, nonetheless, expressed his love in any way he could. Unbeknownst to you, he had bought a ring over the summer of sophomore and junior year and kept it locked in the top drawer of his nightstand

Frat!Jason Todd who, true to his promise, instead of throwing his cap at graduation, had found you in the crowd and immediately got down on one knee

Frat!Jason Todd who was crying when you said yes

[theemporium]

[5.1k] an off-putting interaction with a supposed fan leaves jack cursed and, somehow, you find yourself in the middle of it. because acting like your enemy's girlfriend to not aggravate a curse is totally normal, right?

[find other fright night specials here]

.

It was well known by all that you and Jack Hughes did not like each other. 

If anything, that was an understatement about how the two of you felt about each other. It was one of those things that everyone knew: the sky was blue, the sun rose in the east and set in the west, and Jack Hughes was the bane of your fucking existence. 

You couldn’t quite remember a time when he wasn’t a pain in your ass. Since the day you joined the Devils team, the boy seemed to have it out for you and you returned the attitude. You were constantly at each other’s throats—much to the other boys’ entertainment—bickering and arguing and snapping. 

It was one of the safest bets you could make—especially on game days.

“Dude, I just had the weirdest fucking fan experience of my life!”

You didn’t hold back the urge to roll your eyes, your attention focused on the clipboard in your hands rather than the boy who had barrelled over and interrupted you. “Jesus, I thought players were meant to be mellow and calm before a game.” 

“Maybe that’s just what they tell you because you’re boring,” Jack retorted, flashing you a smile that was as irritating as it was charming. “And I wasn’t even talking to you. I was talking—”

“To my patient,” you bit out, turning your attention back to Dawson who was looking between the two of you with a slightly awkward but apprehensive expression. “Now, like I was asking before we were interrupted, the tension in your—”

“She was so weird,” Jack continued on, his lips twitching when he noticed the heavy sigh you let out but he kept going, facing forward towards Dawson as his shoulder brushed against yours. “I was coming out of the carpark and—”

Dawson’s nose scrunched up. “She was in the player carpark?”

“Yes!” Jack exclaimed, his eyes widening. “That’s what I’m saying, she already snuck in there and then she kept saying something but I couldn’t understand a word. So, I tried to politely—”

You snorted.

“—tell her that I was running late,” Jack continued, shooting you a quick but dirty look as he did. “But then she just started muttering to herself and waved her hands at me before walking away.” 

“Sounds like you broke a sweet old woman’s heart,” Dawson commented, grinning a little when Jack smacked his arm.

“Shut up,” Jack murmured, though his cheeks flushed pink in response. “I was already running late—”

“No surprise there,” you added.

“—I just didn’t have time,” Jack defended, once again shooting you a dirty look. “But it was weird, bro. She had some weird juju.”

Dawson pressed his lips together to hold back his laughter. “Juju?”

“Juju!” Jack repeated with a nod.

“I think you’re letting the guilt get to you, bro,” Dawson said, shaking his head in amusement. “You should head in to get ready for the game. Pretty sure Coach was asking Nico where you—”

“And you just let me stand here and talk?” Jack hissed, his eyes wide before he began rushing down the hallway towards the locker room. “What the fuck, Merc?!” 

“Always blaming everyone but himself,” you huffed, shaking your head. “Typical.”

Dawson grinned a little. “You know, people say that tension is a great aphrodisiac.” 

You shot him a blank look. “The only tension I am interested in is the kind in your muscles. Now, you gonna tell me how your hamstring is feeling or should I tell Coach to scrap you from the game?” 

Dawson quickly zipped his mouth shut.

…

It happened too fast for anyone to comprehend. 

There was five minutes left of the third period, the Devils were up one goal but it was still close. The Jets were putting up more of a fight than they anticipated, pulling moves and hits that were rough and dirty and tiring out the Devils far faster than they would have liked. 

Jack’s whole body was screaming, his heart pounding in his chest and his brain clinging onto the fact that it was almost over. Just a few more minutes until the final buzzer sounded, they just needed to make sure they didn’t let the other team score. That was all. Just tire them out in the last few minutes and they could clinch the win. 

He was so focused on thinking defensively, on thinking what would keep the Jets moving and chasing that he hadn’t even noticed the player barrelling towards him until it was too late. 

The referees blew the whistle too late, Jack’s whole body lurching with the hit as he felt himself get smacked up against the glass before he hit the ice. He felt as though someone had dunked his head underwater, his hearing muffled and his senses disoriented as he tried to scramble up onto his feet. As he tried to show that he was okay and he could keep playing. 

But the pain that ripped through his head when he tried to stand prevented him from doing so. 

“Give him space!” 

“Someone get the medics!” 

“Jack? You good?”

“He looks like he is gonna throw up!” 

Jack could feels hands on him. He could hear voices and he could hear the concern, even if he couldn’t lift his head to work out who was talking to him. He couldn’t do anything but groan and clench his eyes shut and hope that somebody would just make his head stop pounding.

He didn’t even remember how he got off the ice but he was grateful for the darkness in the medic room, the determination to finish the game as a win no longer at the top of his priority list. 

…

You knew the Devils took a chance on you when they offered you the job, but you liked to think you lived up to their expectations. 

You were fresh out of college, lost and intimidated and a degree in physiotherapy in your hands that you didn’t quite know what to do with. You had seen the opening in the Devils’ team by chance, and had applied for the sake of just having the experience of applying. You never considered getting an interview, or for them to like you. 

You never considered that they would take a chance on a student fresh out of college, offering a place under the current head of the team to shadow for a few years before fully taking over the position. 

But life had funny ways of working out and the job with the Devils was one of them.

You had been with the team for almost three years now. You were hardworking and diligent and you performed the roles of your job and beyond. You were a good employee. You knew you were. 

Which is why you were utterly baffled by the fact you were being dragged down the hallway instead of preparing your office for the players' cooldown massages and checkups. 

“What did I do? Are they angry at me? Was there a report I forgot to hand in?” You questioned the boy pulling you, nerves bubbling up in your stomach and you suddenly regretted the pretzel you ate during the second period. 

“No, no, it’s just—” Nico paused, his brows furrowing together. “I can’t really explain it. You just gotta see it.” 

“See what?” You questioned, your eyes darting over the boy’s shoulder to see him leading you towards the medic rooms. “Why are you bringing me here? Did someone pull something?” 

“It’s Jack,” Nico replied, like that explained anything.

“Did Jack pull something?” You asked, albeit a bit desperately. Your patience was already thin and the vague replies were starting to test you. “Nico, tell me what’s wrong? I thought Jack was just on concussion watch, Susan said—” 

“Just,” Nico paused outside the room, grimacing a little. “Just play along, yeah?” 

You opened your mouth, a dozen more questions on the tip of your tongue but it was that very moment the door swung open. 

“Baby, there you are! Where have you been?” 

You blinked, staring at Jack who was currently sitting up on one of the medic beds, grinning happily at you. Then your eyes shifted to the team doctor who looked sheepish, a similar expression shared by the coaching staff beside her. And finally, your eyes landed on Luke who was standing beside Jack’s bed, looking like he was seconds away from laughing (an expression you weren’t expecting on the brother of someone who took a very bad hit).

Nico cleared his throat, nudging you forward. “Found her!”

You stumbled forward, still utterly confused at the odd looks you were receiving from everyone in the room. “What? Was something broken in the hit or something?”

“Baby,” Jack groaned, though it sounded fond and sweet as he reached his hand out towards you. “Stop thinking about work for two seconds, will you? C’mere, I missed you. They said you were too busy to see me just after the hit.” 

You blinked. “Are you talking to me?” 

Jack raised his brows in amusement. “Is there another girlfriend I have that I’ve forgotten about?” 

“Girlfriend?” You repeated, your jaw almost hitting the ground. “I am—”

“Very much his girlfriend who loves him very much,” Nico interrupted, stepping forward and giving you a look you were starting to understand. “And who must be very concerned after he took that big hit that could have gone badly and could have affected his memory.”

Your lips parted slightly as everything clicked.

“Geez, Hisch, way to look at things in a glass half empty kinda way,” Jack laughed before lifting his hand out to you. “Baby, m’fine. Don’t listen to him.”

You had half the mind to shoot Luke a glare as you closed the distance between you and took Jack’s hand in yours, ignoring the snickering from the younger Hughes. You swallowed harshly, turning to look at the team doctor instead of Jack.

“So, doc, what’s the consensus?” 

The team doctor gave you a sheepish smile. “He’s been cursed.” 

You blinked. “Yeah, no shit.” 

“Shit, can you tell?” Jack frowned, lifting his other hand to touch his face. “Do I have warts on my face or something? Oh god, do you still think I’m hot?” 

“I—” You flashed him a slightly strained smile. “Still hot, babe.” 

“Oh, it gets better,” Luke mumbled under his breath. 

Jack beamed in response. 

“The hit should have been a standard hit, the Jets player wasn’t even skating fast enough to cause the…damage Jack is experiencing,” the doctor continued. “We suspected foul play and did a few additional tests. It seemed like Jack had a curse manifesting throughout the game but the brunt of the curse didn’t hit until mid-play. And whoever cursed him seemed to have it out for him because it took the environment around him and made it worse—hence, the Jets player’s hit seeming harder, the force he hit the glass and the pain caused by the hit.” 

You frowned. “So, what do we do? How do we…un-curse him?” 

“You can’t,” Luke jumped in, smiling far too wide for your liking. “Doc says we just have to let the curse play out.” 

“I hardly feel cursed,” Jack said dismissively. “What, a rough hit? That’s it? Some curse. Everything else is normal.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. 

“Until then,” the doctor continued. “I strongly advise doing anything that would…agitate the curse. It could make things worse. We got lucky with the…limited inconveniences.” 

Despite her cryptic words, you understood the message loud and clear. 

Play along and be his girlfriend until his memory returned to normal or else god knows what will happen.

You just wondered what you did to deserve being cursed along with him. 

…

“I bet it was that old lady before the game.”

You lifted your head to find Jack lounging on the massage bed in your office, staring at the ceiling as he continued to contemplate. You had mentioned to him that you needed to finish some paperwork before leaving for the day. 

You expected him to head back to his apartment with Luke, not stay behind with you.

Luke just cackled when Jack decided to stay with you. 

Your brows furrowed together. “Who?”

“The weird old lady that I told you and Dawson about before the game,” Jack said, turning his head to look back at you. “The one who I said had bad juju?” 

And of course he would remember that, just not the fact you weren’t his girlfriend.

Stupid curse. 

“Oh, yeah,” you nodded, leaning back in your seat. “So, what? You didn’t take a photo with her and she curses you? Seems a bit harsh.” 

“Maybe she didn’t like the fact I told her I wasn’t available,” Jack teased, winking at you.

It took every tensed muscle in your body to stop you from scrunching your nose in response. 

“Seems likely,” you replied with a strained smile on your face once more. “Right, I’m done here. Do you want a lift back?” 

Jack laughed, pushing himself to sit up. “Yeah, unless you expect me to walk back to your place and meet you there.”

You froze. “You’re coming back to mine?”

“Duh,” Jack said, his brows furrowing a little at your reaction. “Like I do after every game, babe. This isn’t new. Are you feeling okay?” 

“Yeah, just—” You waved him off, focusing on tidying up your desk instead. “Tired. I think I slept badly.” 

“Aw, baby,” Jack cooed, and it was odd hearing it in a sweet, concerning way rather than the condescending tone you were used to. “S’fine, you’ve got me tonight. Bet you’ll sleep like a baby.” 

“Definitely,” you agreed, making a mental note to strangle Luke the next time he came in for a deep muscle massage.

…

“Uh, where’s your clothes?” 

Jack glanced over at you, that stupid grin on his face that still looked unbelievably fond. It felt wrong to be on the receiving end of it. 

“M’getting ready for bed,” he said simply. “I can’t sleep in a shirt, babe, you know this.” 

“Right, of course I do,” you nodded. “I was just testing you. Making sure you have no more memory problems.” 

“That’s sweet, babe, but I am okay,” Jack assured you, climbing under the covers and settling on the right side of the bed, like he somehow fucking knew you preferred the left. “The doc cleared me and I’ve felt fine since. You know I’d tell you if I felt like something was wrong.”

“Yeah, I just…worry,” you answered after a few moments, trying to calm the thoughts racing through your head as you climbed into the bed next to him. You kept telling yourself to relax, to just pretend like this was normal, to do what the doctor said and play along with the curse so it doesn’t get worse.

But it was hard to believe you were sharing a bed with the boy when he—mutually—hated your guts a few hours ago.

“C’mere,” Jack hummed, pulling you into his embrace with ease and ignoring the way your body seemed to tense at the contact between you both. “Just relax. It’s hockey, hits happen. You know that.” 

You swallowed. “Curses don’t, though.” 

“True, but we will get through that too,” Jack said with so much confidence. “We’re a team, remember? I’ve got your back and you’ve got mine.”

Your eyes widened as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Mhm. A team. That’s us.” 

Jack grinned against your head. “Goodnight, baby.”

“Night, Jack.” 

…

You woke up the following morning to an empty bed.

For a moment, you thought the whole thing was a bad dream. You thought that it was some twisted nightmare your brain tormented you with, something that would haunt you for the next few days but ultimately forget. 

For a moment, you let out a sigh of relief. 

And then you heard a crash from the kitchen, followed by a familiar voice whispering ‘shit’ and realised it was not, in fact, a dream.

You weren’t even sure what you expected to find when you threw the covers off and quickly rushed towards the source of the noise. But finding Jack, half dressed, with two plates on the counter with a sizzling pan on the stove was not it. 

“Oh hey, you’re up,” he beamed once he spotted you lingering in the doorway. “We didn’t have much in the fridge, so we should probably do a grocery run soon. But I managed to whip up something edible.” 

You blinked. “You cook?”

Jack groaned but there was still a smile on his face. “Babe, I’m getting better. I only set the toaster on fire twice in the last few months!” 

You blinked again, your brain far too tired to even stay with the conversation.

“Your coffee is in the fridge,” Jack said, turning back around to focus on not burning whatever was in the pan. “I didn’t make it, so I promise it tastes good. It’s from that cafe down the road you like.”

You knew the cafe well. It was one of your favourites and one you frequently bought coffees from, especially before work. You knew it wasn’t the most shocking thing in the world that he knew of its existence, but the fact he somehow seemed to know it was your favourite and choose the correct order threw you off.

“Thanks,” you murmured, taking a sip of the iced coffee whilst Jack just grinned at you. 

“You’re snappy before coffee,” he teased. 

You shuffled towards the stools by the counter, settling down as you watched the boy closely, like somehow staring at him would reverse whatever curse that old lady put on him. It didn’t. Instead, you were just blatantly staring at the shirtless boy in your kitchen like he was an alien.

He almost felt like one, if you were being honest.

“So,” you spoke up after a few moments. “What are your plans for today?” 

Jack glanced over his shoulder, shooting you an odd look. “Are you sure you’re not the one who got hit last night? We have the charity event with the other boys, remember? The picnic in the park? Don’t tell me my date is bailing on me.”

You laughed nervously. “Of course not! Just…testing you again!”

“Well, you can chill with the tests,” he assured you, pressing another fucking kiss on your forehead that made you feel warm and gooey and confused as he placed your plate in front of you. “M’okay, baby, promise. Also, I promised Nico we would bring something so we should probably stop by some bakery and grab cookies, or something.” 

You only hummed in response, fighting the urge to blurt out the truth and somehow relieved that you wouldn’t have to be spending the day alone with him.

…

“You. Here. Now.” 

Luke blinked, his brows furrowed in confusion as he stared at you. He pointed his finger towards himself and you could have rolled your eyes if you weren’t so desperate. 

“Yes, you, idiot. Hurry up.” 

However, Luke was a little bitch so he slowly made his way over to the tree you were currently hiding behind, a plate of finger foods in his hand that he was snacking away on. 

“Sup?” 

You stared at him blankly. “You’re already on thin ice.” 

“Aw,” Luke cooed, a teasing grin growing on his face. “Was the night with Jack that bad?” 

“He knows things!” You hissed under your breath, a bit more frantic that you would have preferred. “We need to find this fucking witch, I can’t do this anymore.” 

“It’s been less than twenty-four hours,” Luke pointed out.

“It’s freaky as fuck,” you retorted. “He knows things about me that a normal boyfriend would.” 

“Wow, it’s almost like magic,” Luke deadpanned.

“I hate you.” 

“Rude way to talk to your possible future brother-in-law,” Luke grinned, letting out a squeal when you pinched his side. “Ow, ouch! Okay! I’ll try to keep him away from you as much as I can.” 

You sighed. “Thank you.” 

…

It took twenty minutes before that plan flopped. 

Jack snuck off after an interview he had done with Luke for the Devils social media team, hardly giving his brother a chance to come up with an excuse to hang out on the other side of the park before he hunted you down. 

You almost screamed when a body flopped down on the blanket beside you, Jack’s grinning face in your line of vision as he settled his head on your lap. 

“Hey, stranger,” he greeted, lifting his hand to tuck some hair behind your ear. “You’ve been quiet today.” 

“Just tired,” you said, the response almost automatic at this point. 

But Jack frowned. “I think you might be getting sick. We should pick up some soup from that deli place you like, down in Hoboken. Maybe pick up some tea too.” 

Your throat felt tight but you nodded nonetheless, hoping your surprise wasn’t obvious on your face.

Fucking magic. 

…

When you woke up the next morning, Jack still thought he was your boyfriend.

The next day was the same. 

So was the one after that. 

And the days following. 

Before you knew it, it had been well over a week—honestly closer to two weeks—and the curse seemed well and truly cemented in place. It was still an absolute mind-fuck, and not just for you but everyone on the team. 

It felt like one big secret you were all holding back on telling Jack, letting him live in some weird and ignorant bliss. The worst part was that he was so unsuspecting of the people closest to him lying to his face. He didn’t question the snickers Dawson or Luke would sometimes let out when the two of you showed up to work together. Or the way Nico seemed to actively avoid talking about the relationship (despite Jack insisting it was his friend’s shove that prompted him to ask you out). Or the fact you had been ‘sick’ for the last two weeks and, therefore, unable to kiss him.

Though, that one was easy with hockey players and their odd superstitions and need to prevent any possible scrap from a game. 

He was so trusting and gullible when it came to the people around him, you almost felt bad. 

The emphasis being on almost because by some weird and twisted turn of events, you didn’t mind it. Not really. Not after the initial weirdness and tension of it wore off. Maybe you had been single for too long or maybe you were mourning something you had never truly experienced, the love and attention of someone who notices, who sees you, who cares about keeping you happy. 

It felt wrong, like you were exploiting Jack for emotions and feelings he didn’t organically have. But it also felt too nice to tell the truth, to tell him that you weren’t really his girlfriend and lose the benefits you had gained over the last two weeks.

It was weird seeing this side of Jack. Not a bad weird, just a different kind. 

A kind you knew you would have to give up once the curse was gone.

“M’gonna be a bit longer, Dawson wanted to run some more drills outside of practice,” Jack said as he lifted himself off the massage bed, flashing those puppy dog eyes at you that made your stomach twist in endearment (when once upon a time, they pissed you off). “Wait for me? I’ll pay for your lunch.” 

“You don’t have to bribe me, you know,” you snorted but your eyes fluttered shut as he rounded your desk, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “But deal. We’re getting burritos.” 

He beamed, shaking his head fondly. “Fine. I’ll catch you in a few hours.” 

You watched him scurry out of your office, probably running through the corridors to get to the locker room before he was reprimanded for being late. He had even arrived two hours earlier than he was meant to, just because he wanted to chill in your office whilst you worked. 

It shouldn’t have made your heart flutter when you knew it wasn’t really Jack but it did.

It really fucking did.

…

It was an hour or so later when you couldn’t ignore your stomach rumbling anymore. 

There was still another two hours before Jack would step off the ice, heading towards the locker room to shower and change before the two of you could grab some food. And you sure as hell could not wait that long. 

You let out a groan, your joints clicking as you stood up from your desk for the first time in a few hours. You ignored the voice in the back of your head that reminded yourself to try walking around a bit more between writing reports before you headed into the hallway, deciding to treat yourself to the vending machines closer to the players’ locker room (it had better snacks, despite what management liked to tell everyone).

You had been standing in front of the vending machine with your brows furrowed in contemplation that you hadn’t even noticed an old lady approaching you.

“You’re the girl.” 

You jumped out of your skin, an unflattering noise of surprise leaving your lips as you stared at the woman with wide eyes. “I, uh, what?” Your brain took a few seconds to catch up. “I mean, I am a girl. I don’t know about being the girl.”

The woman smiled and it sent shivers down your spine. “Hm, yes, I can see it now. His aura lingers on you.” 

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, but the magic remains. It is strong. Pungent,” she continued, tsking as she shook her head. “You delay the inevitable!” 

Your eyes widened as you took a step back on instinct. “You’re the one that cursed Jack, aren’t you?”

“Curse?” Her smile became knowing, sneaky, disconcerting. “Oh, honey, there was no curse.”

You frowned. “Uh, ma’am, with all due respect, I find that hard to believe considering he—” 

“All I did was give him what he wanted,” she said, so simply and so directly that it caught you off guard. “His deepest desire to be his, though I assumed that would be a game win. The losing streak was quite off-putting.” 

“I—” You blinked. “So, wait. You’re a fan?” 

“Yes,” she stated. “Was it not obvious?” 

You bit back the sarcastic response that wanted to leave your lips. “And what? You cursed him to win the game?” 

“That was my mistake for assuming it was what he desired the most,” she replied, that almost-creepy smile on her face. “It seems his deepest desires lay with you.” 

You stared at the woman in front of you. “You’re joking, right?” 

“I do not joke,” she stated bluntly. 

“So…the way he’s been acting…” you trailed off, your mind racing with a million different thoughts.

“All himself,” the woman answered. “Think of the magic as the confidence boost he needed to get there.” 

“He likes me?” 

“Yes.”

“Like, properly?” 

“Yes.” 

“And everything he’s been doing? That’s been done by him and not influenced by magic? Not even the tidbits of knowledge?” 

“My dear, it sounds like you have been very oblivious to how this man feels about you.” 

You shot her a look, unsure how you felt about being called out by the very witch who ‘didn’t curse’ the boy you had been calling your boyfriend for the last two weeks. 

“Oh my god.” 

“Though, it seems like his change in relationship with you has been what he needed to get him out of his losing slump, so I guess we both win.”

You frowned a little. “You’re one odd lady.” 

She shrugged in response. 

“How did you even get in here?” 

…

“Run it again!” 

Jack’s muscles were screaming at him as he pushed himself across the ice, pushing himself to go faster, faster, faster like the coach wanted as he carried the puck on his stick. His eyes were laser-focused on the players around him, on dodging the defencemen lined up in front of him and skating around them to get to the goal. 

He didn’t let himself relax until the sound of the puck hitting the back of the net hit his ears.

“JACK!” 

He turned his head, expecting to find one of his teammates skating towards him to celebrate his goal in their makeshift drill. But instead of Nico skating towards him with his arms in the air or Dougie prepared to smack him on the back for dodging his attempts, he instead found you standing by the tunnel. 

You looked flustered and on edge and panicked, and it made his spine straighten.

Jack dodged the others, ignoring whatever the coaching staff were barking at them as he made his way towards you at a speed that you would have disapproved of if you knew how sore his muscles were.

“What? Are you okay? Did something happen?” He asked frantically, confused as to why else you would have interrupted a training practice. 

“You like me,” you said to him.

His brows furrowed in confusion. “Uh, yeah, babe. I do. What are you—”

But before he could continue, you grabbed his face with both hands and tugged him closer. He stumbled a step or two before his lips were pressed on yours. His surprise disappeared after a few seconds, his body melting into the kiss and his brain forgetting whatever he was trying to ask moments ago.

He was still in a daze when you pulled away, your hands still holding his face and your gaze completely focused on him, like you were expecting to see something different. 

“Do you still like me?” You asked, a little breathless.

And he felt winded. 

Winded by an influx of memories and realisations and emotions that were all his own. Winded by the magic coursing through him, ringing obvious and evident to his body despite two weeks of feeling nothing. Winded by the look on your face, a hint of fear and hope shining in your eyes as you awaited his response.

“Yeah,” he rasped, his cheeks burning hot. “I do.”

“Okay,” you nodded, your lips twitching upwards. “Good.” 

And then you kissed him again. 

However, this time it was the shrill of a whistle that broke you two apart, the annoyed voices of the coaching staff telling Jack to stop slacking and continue on with his training ringing loud and clear through the rink. 

“We still have a lot to talk about,” you said as Jack began to skate back towards the rest of the group. “Like, a lot.”

He grinned at you. “We still on for burritos after?” 

You laughed. “Only if you’re still playing.” 

“It’s a date, baby,” Jack winked. 

It was well known by all that you and Jack Hughes did not like each other. 

But maybe a little bit of magic was the shove the two of you needed to realise that wasn’t quite true. 

.

[queer-n-here]

Omg imagine Chuuya using his ability to ride you harder

Oh my fucking god, what writer's block?

This just blew me away for no reason at all, bro what?

Contents: Chuuya using his ability while riding you.

Warnings: Smut, top male reader, biting, marking, riding, daddy kink.

Chuuya was far from satiated.

He had been riding you for a while now, back dripping sweat as he grinded down on your cock for the nth time, breath uneven and sped up, eyes filled with tears that had not yet fallen.

His naked body was moving in a way so slutty you had to grip his waist and leave marks on his skin to remind yourself that he was real, here, and not a dream.

His dishevelled hair stuck to his sweat-covered forehead, his lips chapped and bloody from your rough kisses and his own teeth. There were bite marks all over his neck, chest, torso; you hadn't left a single inch of his pale skin untouched.

You were sitting back against the headboard of your shared bed, Chuuya in your lap as he bounced wildly on your cock, loud ah-ah-ahs echoing around the room as sounds of skin slapping skin almost drowned them out. His fingers were gripping onto your shoulders for balance, gripping so hard you knew he'd drawn blood with his blunt nails without needing to look.

But it wasn't enough, wasn't enough, just WASN'T.

Chuuya suddenly glowed black, his trembling thighs outlined by the glow that seemed to come from every inch of his skin. You felt the weight on your thighs increase suddenly, and he sunk down so low on your dick that even your balls were embedded into him.

"Fuck, Chuuya," You gasped, fingers digging even deeper into his skin as he grinded down on your cock again, using his ability to take you even further.

"Ngh!" Finally, your tip hit that spot that you could find so easily in him.

Ecstatic, he did it again, hips eager and wanting, eyes finally dripping tears. He cried out as he sped up, his movements somehow even wilder, the only thoughts in his head ways on how to chase that pleasure.

"F-fuck yeah," Chuuya gasped, jaw loose. "Ah, feels so good, [Name]!"

You hardly had the breath in you to speak, what with him going to town on your cock like it was his last day on earth, clenching so hard around your cock you saw stars.

"Such a little slut, Chuuya," You managed to say somehow. "Using your ability like this, heh, who would have thought? You like it that much?"

And he nodded in response, eyes glazed over. "Daddy's little slut. Only yours."

Your eyes widened, and then you chuckled, pulling Chuuya close and letting him bury his head into the crook of your neck as he continued assaulting your cock. You knew full well he would rather admit to being short than repeat his words once he could think again, but the moment was raw, and so you decided to push him a little more.

"Daddy's slut, huh?" You murmured into his ears, your hips rising to meet his half-way through. "Such a good slut, taking all of my cock so well. You sure know how to please daddy, don't you, Chuuya?"

He nodded, arms wrapped around you so tight it was as if he was afraid you'd leave without cumming in him.

He was trembling all over now, and even with the assistance of his ability, his movements had gotten sloppier. You knew he was close, so you reached forwards, grabbed the hair at the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss.

When he came, ropes of come shooting out of his dick, he collapsed almost immediately against your chest, panting. You kept going, thrusting up into him for your own orgasm, and he let you.

Once you'd painted his walls white, you slowed down to a stop.

Chuuya refused to get off of you, so you let him lay on you, cock still buried deep into him, even though his ability had withdrawn.

A moment passed, and you let him catch his breath.

You planted chaste kisses all over his face, making him smile softly, eyes closed. There was a big mess where you two met that you knew you had to take care of, so you carried him to the bathtub. Even when you sat down in the water, holding Chuuya in your lap, he hadn't let you pull out of him.

For a while, there was a comfortable silence.

Then, "So... Daddy, huh?"

As you burst into laughter, Chuuya smacked your shoulder weakly, ears red with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

"Fuck off," He mumbled, burying his head deeper into your shoulder.

"On a more serious note, though," Your smirk faded into a soft smile, and you peeled him off of you just enough to look him in the face. "If you're into that just tell me, hmm? I don't mind."

Your voice was so quiet, and your expression so gentle that even Chuuya couldn't bring himself to deny it. Yes, he was into it. And yes, he was very, very embarrassed about it.

So he said nothing, choosing to return to the crook of your neck instead, and you let him. It was a silent conformation, the best you could get out of him.

[tteokdoroki]

✩ — ANGELS SHOULD NEVER FALL THIS FAR FROM HEAVEN ⁀➷ everyone believes satoru gojo to be an angel. your mother considers her new son to be a blessing, even if he’s bratty and spoiled. but never once did think teasing him would make your step-brother to act on such ungodly desires. (3.2K)

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, smut, pwp, college!au, religious imagery, step-cest, groping, fingering, ‘just the tip’, exhibitionism, clothed sex, male masturbation, slight degradation, bratty behaviour, use of oneesan, unprotected sex, ruined orgasms, cumplay, fem!reader, step-bro!gojo.

things to note. lol sorry it’s been a while !! trying a new layout also posting this into the void while i work on kinktober eee !! idk i’ve had a rough time trying to write a one shot so im glad i could make this !! special thanks to @kishibye for beta reading. i hope you enjoy this bestie boos ily <3

“what are you doing?” there’s a sharp edge to the tone of satoru’s voice, splayed across his tongue that holds back a stream of curses. his eyes speak fury in their piping hot flames of wild cerulean as he watches you enter the kitchen and shoot straight for the snack cupboard.

you can feel the weight of his gaze as it crosses the slopes of your body, from the back of your head, twirling around your curves before ultimately falling to your behind.

playing innocent, you stand on your tip toes and grasp at the bag of chips you’re after. the ones on the top shelf. “whaddya mean ‘what am i doing’?”

“what do you mean what do i mean?” your step brother retorts childishly, as if you’re two kids fighting on a playground at recess.

you click your tongue and pay him no mind. “don’t be such a baby, satoru,” you wave a hand in his face in a haughty manner. “use your big boy words.”

gojo suppresses a whine when your shirt rides up and reveals your skin to gorgeous eyes. he lets it gargle around in his throat like the sting of cool mouthwash, before striding over to you — grabbing the chips and slamming the cupboard shut so hard it makes you jump.

“you can’t just walk around dressed like that.”

he gestures to your get up — the clothes you wear when nobody’s home. your sapphire silly and scallop-edged panties, your old and ratty band t-shirt haphazardly thrown on.

“why?” you turn around to come face to face with your younger (step)brother, noting the way his stare hones in on the plush meat of your thighs as you squish them together — leaning back against the kitchen counter.

“my friends are coming over.”

“so, what’s the big deal?” there’s something about pissing gojo off that entertains you. he’s a brat by all means, raised with a silver spoon in his mouth and daddy’s dollars tucked into his pockets. whenever there’s a problem, all it takes is a classic ‘toru temper tantrum and your parents are on the scene to fix things for him. he’ll never know the hardships of being raised by a single mother, always having a little less than most. he walks around in his own little bubble of riches - and you can’t help but want to pop it. “shoko thinks i’m cool and geto will probably jack off to me later. it’s whatever.”

“but it’s not whatever,” you can practically see satoru fight the urge to stomp his foot like a petulant child — even going as far to have the audacity to pout down at you. “you’ll just embarrass me. so do us both a favour and put some clothes on, nobody wants to see all that ‘round the house.”

“do you own this house?”

“no but i-“

“but your daddy does. and daddy isn’t here! so shut up, satoru!” jabbing a finger into his chest, you smile up at your not-so-little little step-brother, evilly. “i make the rules.”

“oh fuck you. all you do is mooch off of my dad, princess. you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for your mom whoring it out for him.” he sneers in response, upper lip curling into a distasteful snarl like a dog with a stranger on its territory. his words, though cruel and foul, are far from the truth and you know that he doesn’t mean it. satoru is a brat that throws acid laced words at anyone who gets in his way — yourself included.

even though you agree that your parents tied the knot all too fast — barely giving the two of you a chance to get to know each other as siblings. they were in love and far too happy for the rivalry between their children to get in the way. you know that the fact pissed gojo off to no end, he hated how your mother doted on him and how he’d always needed to fight for his father’s attention. now it certainly wasn’t ever going to be on him. but the two women in his house instead.

your poor, spoiled, baby brother.

however, you won’t let his words and how he projects onto you, hurt you. “whoops! looks like i dropped my will to give a fuck!” whilst pretending to drop your snack, you bend over in front of him to reveal inches of beauty marked and blemished flesh, drawing hungry seafoam eyes to the bounce of showing your ass — testing your little step brother. “i don’t care satoru, i’m older.”

satoru’s mouth snaps shut after moments of wordlessly opening and closing. he stands frozen on the spot, as if he can’t seem to process the very idea that his older step-sister had just flashed him to prove a point.

but just when you think you’ve won, the silver-haired brat is pressed right up behind you, forcing your body to bend over the cold marble counter that instantly has your nipples hardening against the icy surface. heat rushes to your face, blossoming just under the barrier of your skin as his hard on nestles it’s way between your ass cheeks — a symphony of your surprised squeaks echoing through the modern kitchen.

“hey! what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

instead of responding, he pushes your head down against the counter — circling his increasingly wet erection against your behind, manhandling the globes of flesh back onto his dick. “not so fun, is it.” he coos down at you, voice chilly and full of condescending highs and lows. “yanno…you’re awfully mean to me.”

saliva pools on your tongue, weighing it down in your mouth like a paperweight as satoru’s girth slips downwards, seedy tip brushing over panty clad and your swollen clit. “aren’t oneesan’s s’pposed to take care of their baby brothers?” his breath is hot and ragged against your ear as gojo haunches over you, caging you in like a wild animal as you thrash and writhe under his touch.

you can’t even bring yourself to feel an ounce of shame when gojo’s left hand dances between your tangled limbs and slips past the frilly band of your underwear — ghosting over the throbbing pearl laying between your sticky pussy lips. “step…step brother!” you whinge at the tingle of pleasure that blooms in your lower tummy and spreads like angel wings throughout the rest of your body. 

satoru takes turns playing with you, alternating between his nimble, skilled fingers and his seedy girth that smears precum all over your inner thighs and panties. “like that even fuckin’ matters.” he laughs, twisted and proud. “could you get off like this? yeah i think you could…. you’re already so wet. just from grinding on your little brother’s cock.”

your legs grow shaky at his ministrations, beads of your juices oozing from your empty entrance to stain the man’s sweats, slicking him up as if it’s a signature of your claim. “‘toru!” you gasp, eyes rolling back into the depth of your skull. “m-more.”

“look at how fast you fold for me…” he pushes up your shirt so that the fabric pools around your waist — pawing at the fat there, massaging your hips softly as if he isn’t violently, cruelly rubbing one out on your achey pussy. “i don’t think you’re in a position to ask me for more, big sis.” satoru taunts, a heavy hand coming down on the bare skin of your ass, leaving a raw handprint in its place. “such a nasty slut, i bet you’d let me fuck you like this too. out in the open, where anyone could catch us.”

you yelp in surprise at the feeling of gojo’s messy, cream coated cockhead nudge at your entrance from over your panties — a slender finger pulling the soaked material to the side so he can fuck you with his tip. “oh, i bet you’d like that, huh baby?” he continues to purr, jutting his hips forward ever so slightly — feeding your greedy cunt a few more inches of him. satoru’s barely sheathed inside of you, but you’re already stretching deliciously around what he’s given you. he’s fat, girthy just as he is long and his mushroom tip drags along sensitive spots in your walls you didn’t even know you had.

 he hasn’t even fucked you properly yet.

you sob, wail and writhe on your little step brother’s cock, nails clawing at the marble counter while your breath escapes you. “satoru, please fuck me. ‘m sorry… sorry—!”

“shh big sis, you’re being too loud,” he cups a hand over your mouth. gojo eases two digits past your plump lips to pacify your cries as he shallowly pumps his wet cock into the heat of your sex — gritting his teeth to hide his own moans. “we…fuck, you’re tight as shit… we wouldn’t want my friends to know that you dress like a slut for my cock, would we?”

you shake your head with a muffled moan, suckling the taste of yourself from gojo’s fingers and breathing heavily through your nose. “no, we wouldn’t. that’s right. good girl, oh shit.”

satoru laughs, a little cocky and a little drawn out in a long, whiny whimper over the wet slap of the backs of your thighs in the front of his own. but he trembles from behind you, like his legs are about to give out every time your creamy cunt sucks a little more of him in. it’s a miracle he’s managed to hold you both up.

guilt wracks your body intertwining with the red blood cells coursing through your veins and carrying limited oxygen to your brain — your head practically empty at how your little brother ruins you on half of his fat cock. this isn’t right, this is completely wrong and yet you feel yourself coming undone — weak in the knees and shaky in your lips, the dam in your lower tummy threatening to burst at any second and flood the room in an erotic river of your arousal. 

pushing your head off of the counter, you lean into satoru, throwing your ass back onto him in rhythm with the harshness of his thrusts. everything is hotter, heavier and you can’t even think about how much of a bad step-sister you are when he’s dominating your body like this. the silky locks of satoru’s silvering hair press against your shoulder and he wraps a fist in the fabric of your shirt to pull you further back onto his cock. 

“‘m gonna c-cum, oh god!” you squeal, flinching as your juices crudely slap against the kitchen floor. “i’m so close!”

he pants into your ear like a desperate dog, fully wrapping himself around you and trapping you against the counter so that you have nowhere to go except towards your high. “yeah?” gojo breathes heatedly, temperate breath cascading over the back of your neck and only adding fuel to your fire of desire. “i can tell, you get like this. all needy ‘n cute when you’re about to cum.” 

his words have you clenching around his bulbous tip every time it pushes up against the pleasure spots you didn’t even know you had — your arousal catching in the pretty blue veins that spiral around the length of gojo’s shaft. “you don’t think i can’t hear you, big sis? late at night when you think everyone’s sleepin’….” his whistle tone moans are quickly replaced by deep growls and grunts that only just manage to escape from between the gritted rows of your step brother’s pearly whites. “when you stuff those tiny fingers into that tight little hole and—“

he reaches down between your mess of slick soaked limbs to land a harsh smack against your quivering pussy, sending the foamy ring of white where your bodies join flying about the place. “—and make yourself cum to the thought of me?” he continues, breathing ragged and laughing at you again when you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure. 

“s-satoru!”

he soothes you with quick circles over your swollen clit and kisses to your shoulder — being careful not to leave marks. “oh did that hurt, baby? am i  the mean one now?” licking a stripe up the side of your face and tasting the sweat on your glistening skin, satoru rambles on — filling you up with praises and copious amounts of precum. “you know i—fuck— you know i love you. my precious big sister, so fucking good to me. let’s make you cum, yeah?” 

you’re allowed to rut back on him for a little longer, since he loves the sound of his name whirling around messily on your tongue, all high-pitched and sugar coated for him. if only you knew how badly he’d wanted you, how pissed he was when his father went on to marry your mother. gojo has wanted you since the very first night you met — his every waking thought has been carefully carved to lust after you, think of your eyes, your smile, your lips. fuck, everything about you has satoru under some kind of spell. 

“r-right there. right there, t-there!” you chant the words like they’re the a prayer, as if they’re the only ones you know, allowing satoru to throw you through the loop of pleasure until you’re too far gone to stay on the ride. 

angling his slender hips upwards, his cockhead bares down on the gummy centre of your g-spot just has he buries himself inside of you — right up to the hilt. “h-here? this where you want me, big sis?” gojo’s amused gasp turns into a coo when you let out a meek hum of agreement, babling wild nonsense and drooling into the counter you’re pressed against. “mmhm, got you creamin’ around me already. so cute, so good when you listen. when you’re a good t’me, oneesan.” 

the honorific alone has your mouth running dry as if it’s been stuffed with cotton. though the syrupy pap, pap, pap of your sex says otherwise. it tells the truth of your sin.

and the thing that you don’t know about satoru is that he loves to give, feeding pieces of himself to you as he fucks you wild in the middle of your family kitchen. he wants you to have all of him, every corner and inch of his body just like he dreamed about. he knows it’s forbidden and that it’s wrong, but he can’t help but relish in the feeling of your pretty pussy sucking him in so selfishly, greedily clamping down on his thick base. 

he would give you anything. anything you wanted and asked for if you’d let him. his hands slip from your waist to intertwine with yours splayed out on the cool marble surface, using his last spurts of energy to drag you towards your orgasm and the deep depths of sinner’s paradise. 

“fuck me, fuck me, baby.” he growls possessively against the shell of your ear. “let go for me. lemme see how much you love your little brother—“

the crescendo of your pleasure is at an all time high, about to come crashing down on you like a tonne of heavy bricks. 

that is until the door bell rings, accompanied by the sound of geto’s voice from the outside of the house. “yoo, satoru! open up!” 

you’d think that you’d have been good enough for your little step-brother to keep going — to push onwards and let you cream all over him before he went to attend to his silly little friends. but he flips the script, pulling out of you just as you teeter over the edge to ruin your orgasm.

“no, no, please!” you sniffle, teary eyed with dissatisfaction sitting in your lower belly — the need to cum still there but the feeling of emptiness within your dripping walls taking over. “satoru…” you whine.

when you look behind you, he’s too busy finishing himself off — his black shirt between his teeth, sweats hanging low on his waist while gojo palms  his hard and heavy cock as he pleases. 

it’s coated in your arousal, shining under the artificial lighting in the kitchen and you watch with a pout as gojo jacks himself off to the view of your ruined cunt. he thumbs the seedy slit at the centre of his bright red tip, hissing through the sensitivity. he’s a picture perfect vision, appearing as an angel before your very eyes. a mop of halo white hair flop backwards with satoru’s head, rich sapphire eyes locked behind fluttering lashes that glisten with pearls of pleasure filled tears. 

you know not to be mistaken, you know that satoru is more like an incubus than the heavenly being he presents as. the parts of your brain with better judgement see him as the sinner who made you fall from grace, committing such a heinous act. the desperate side of you with a brain full of lust and smoke screens sees your step-brother as a god who controls all of your desires. 

you think you prefer that side of you more. 

meanwhile, a drop of sweat runs a track down the length of satoru’s neck, catching on the curve of his Adam’s apple as he swallows down his euphoric laments. you find yourself jealous that his own fingers are wrapped around his sloppy dick instead of drawing shapes against your aching clit. you envy how good it must feel for satoru when he finally cums. ropes of thick white sling around his knuckles, much paler in contrast to his pearlescent skin tone.

a deep, gravelly moan erupts from his hot mouth like lava, accompanied by curses and the stuttered syllables you recognise to be your name while he finishes himself off. gojo jerks his sensitive cock over your ass to paint you with the last spurts of his release. it’s a claim on you as your step-brother, a way in which he can show you that he always gets his way no matter what.

whilst still recovering, your step-brother drags a slender finger through the puddle of cum he’s left on you, and drags it down to your stretched little hole before pushing it against your overstimulated clit. “hmm, so pretty.” gojo grins, slow and sly, when you twitch and attempt to jolt away from him. then unexpectedly, he lands a hard smack against your bum — revelling in your sweet cry of pleasure, impatience and pain. “go put somethin’ on, will ya, sis? my friends are still waiting outside.” 

“i…i hate you.” you whimper shakily, brain frazzled from the situation. 

satoru might be a spoiled brat, but he’s not mean enough to leave you here a shaky, dripping mess so he helps you to your feet — tenderly fixing the hem of your shirt and panties back into place (failing to wipe his cum off of you beforehand). you’re still pouting from your ruined orgasm once he’s done, and he nudges the underside of your chin with a singular knuckle. 

“don’t worry big sis, i’ll come take care of you later. maybe i’ll even let geto watch since you love prancing around half naked for him too.” he teases, squishing your cheeks as you try to swat at him. “and you don’t hate me, you love me and this cock. clearly.” gojo sings and sends a cheeky wink in your before prancing away to open the door for his friends. 

he pulls his pants up as he goes, not minding the wet patch you’ve left on him. 

whereas, you scurry up to your room before they can greet you and gojo tells them that you’re feeling unwell. 

that day, you learn two valuable lessons: 

one —  never mess with a spoiled brat, it’ll never end well for you and gojo will always get what he wants no matter who pays the bills. 

two — geto really does like to jerk off to you, even more so when he watches his best friend punishes his older step-sister with enough orgasms to make her forget why she was in trouble with satoru in the first place.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[calcifiedunderland]

Shrimply Yours~

In which you invoke your shrimp privileges to cheer Floyd up.

Floyd x GN Reader! Enjoy, shrimpies!!~

—————

“Y’know Floyd, I’d say you’re the shrimp, not me.”

Maybe you really did have a death-by-squeezing wish. Or maybe your plot-armor protection had finally worn off. The eel in question lifted his head slowly at your words and side-eyed you, his golden eye glinting ominously in the Mostro Lounge kitchen’s light.

You’d been washing the dishes after asking Azul for a job in exchange for a little extra madol on the side. For the most part, your day had been as peaceful as it could’ve (the life of a magicless prefect was always maniacal), until you heard arguing from outside the kitchen. You all but jumped when Floyd slammed the door open and wordlessly stalked to the stove, and you spotted Azul walking off shaking his head to himself. Floyd shoved pan on the heat and began frying something, completely ignoring your presence. Was it even possible to fry chicken so aggressively?

In any case, Floyd seemed a little more volatile than usual at the moment, even considering it was him. The other students who’d been in the kitchen with you before had scuttled out before Floyd could snap at them too. But in any case, you knew that Floyd’s mood flipped faster than Crowley leaving all his work to you. So, you thought you’d try to lighten the mood.

At your words, Floyd slowly brought his head up from his deep-frying, golden-and-olive colored eyes zeroing in on you, baring his sharp, shiny teeth at you in a scowl. And in that split second, you suddenly remembered that Floyd was, in fact, a mer-eel. Moray, specifically. A predator. A predator that probably ate shrimpies like you. Who was now looking at you predatorily.

“What did ya just say, shrimpy?” His pupils were practically pin-pricks, and for a moment you swore you could hear the Jaws theme song in your head. You could remember, time and time again, your friends and upperclassmen telling you not to engage Floyd when he was in one of his moods. Even up until now, you’d never been on the awful end of his anger, especially alone. But you weren’t called beast-tamer for nothing, damn it, and maybe that title could extend to taming angry Floyd’s too. An angry Floyd that was still your friend.

“I said, you’re the shrimp, not me.” You maintained eye-contact with him, almost challenging him, ‘come at me, bro.’ You tried to keep a straight face, although you were deflating rapidly by the second because by Sevens this was so stupid but-

“Because you’re shrimply amazing.”

One second passed. Two. Three.

Then Floyd broke into a wide, sharp-toothed grin. He surged towards you, completely forgetting the frying food. “D’awww, SHRIMPY!!!”

He swooped behind you, wrapping his arms around you and picking you up. Your legs flailed around and now your arms were locked in as Floyd spun around the kitchen haphazardly with you in his arms. “Shrimpy knows just how to cheer me up! I knew this is why I kept you around!” He laughed cheerily, bobbing you up and down.

“FLOYD!” You cried, “PUT ME DOWN-“ the kitchen swirled crazily around you, as Floyd babbled some song or other cheerfully. Thankfully he’d stopped spinning, but began shaking you side to side while humming, “Shrimpy’s so brave n’ nice, all the other guppies left when they saw me but only Shrimpy stayed!”

He started pouting, and squished his cheek into yours. “Azul was bein’ mean to me, making me work now. Just ‘cause I roughed up a few customers doesn’t mean it was my fault! They shoulda been nice to me~”

Even though you were basically suspended in the air by him, you smiled at Floyd’s words. “Glad I could help Floyd, that was so mean of Azul,” you consoled him, hoping he’d put you down. He bent over until your feet were safely on the sweet, sweet ground, but didn’t let you go from his arms. The two of you swayed together, basking in each other’s company in the subpar lighting of the kitchen, until you frowned.

“…Hey, is something burning?”

“Ah shit, I burned the chicken.”

———

[voguesriot]

NOBODY’S BUSINESS ✹ luke castellan

part one

( summary ) social media au where luke’s sudden spike in confidence turns a few heads, including the head of your ex who just loves to jump in other people’s business

( pairing ) luke castellan x fem aphrodite counsellor!reader , mentions of ex bf! hephaestus camper x reader

( notes ) this feels a bit rushed bcs i’m sick rn but i hope you guys enjoy anyway!!

♫ American Teenager by Ethel Cain

♡ liked by maxwalsh , silenabeauregard , and others

yourusername proof that percy doesn’t actually hate luke

seaweedbrain hey girlie!!! can you take this down like immediately?? not to sound to mean or anything but i can and will find you 😇

yourusername you’re such a cutie perce

seaweedbrain kys

sarahdawson totally wasn’t held at gunpoint for that last pic guys no need to worry

connorstroll we weren’t worrying but thanks anyway ig

sarahdawson sleep with one eye open.

lukecastellan 2/10 post

yourusername sorry for messing with your tough guy image 😔

lukecastellan actually it only loses points bcs there’s no pics of you

chrisrodriguez WOAHHHHHHH

sarahdawson HIS BALLS FINALLY DROPPED

clarisselarue bit sad to know they weren’t completely crushed after the red team kicked their ass icl

yourusername oh trust they were all whining about it the second i put away the camera

clarisselarue good.

GROUPCHAT — chb’s finest

clarisselarue: y/n what is max doing in your likes…

sarahdawson: HES WHAT

sarahdawson: oh he’s brave

yourusername: IDK HE JUST APPEARED

yourusername: like a bug

seaweedbrain: or a rat

yourusername: that too

lukecastellan: he’s on his way for training with me rn so i’ll go extra hard on him

silenabeauregard: homoerotic subtext goes crazy

yourusername: thanks luke but really you don’t need to do that

yourusername: like i’m over him now and i just want to forget about him altogether

lukecastellan: he deserves a hard time for what he did to you anyway

lukecastellan: you deserve way better than that

lukecastellan: i mean anyone would

seaweedbrain: great save bro

lukecastellan removed seaweedbrain.

sarahdawson: oh you took that one personally

DIRECT MESSAGES

clarisselarue: ok when did you get game

lukecastellan: idk what you’re talking about

clarisselarue: oh please spare me i’ve had to watch you make googoo eyes for the past two years you can’t lie you’re way out of this one

lukecastellan: seriously idk what you’re talking about clarisse

clairsselarue: ok fine whatever but HYPOTHETICALLY if you were to try anything with my girl i want you to know that i approve but trust if you go a toe out of line then you will be dealt with

read.

♫ My Love Mine All Mine by Mitski

♡ liked by drewtanaka, hazellevesque , and others

[ tagged: sarahdawson ]

yourusername you’re the only thing i’ll ever thank a man for

yourusername thanks max

this comment was deleted.

sarahdawson I SAW THAT COMMENT GIRL THAT WAS BRAVE

drewtanaka surprised sar isn’t screaming for photo creds for the second slide

sarahdawson bcs i didn’t take it……..

silenabeauregard WOAH WHAT

pipermclean yourusername hey sis can we have a chat please

yourusername nope i’m doing cabin checks rn #counsellorissues

wisegirll i’m doing cabin checks rn though???

silenabeauregard the plot thickens

lukecastellan glad to see you listened to my advice

yourusername felt bad keeping my beauty from everyone

lukecastellan it was a rough time without it

groverunderwood chrisrodriguez now THESE are moves

chrisrodriguez LOOK AT MY BOY GO gods is this what normal parents feel when their kids go to college

maxwalsh nice earrings

this comment was deleted.

seaweedbrain we all saw that comment right…

clarisselarue yes.

DIRECT MESSAGES

maxwalsh: hey can we please talk

yourusername: no

maxwalsh: please babe cmon you didn’t even hear me out

yourusername: because you tried to kiss sarah you fucking asshole

maxwalsh: no it wasn’t like that you don’t get it

maxwalsh: look can you just meet me by our old spot and i can explain everything

yourusername: no

maxwalsh: babe you’re not acting like yourself

yourusername: bcs it’s not her, she’s asleep rn and she’s not your “babe”

maxwalsh: who tf is this???

yourusername: doesn’t matter

yourusername blocked maxwalsh.

lukecastellan posted to their story!

SARAHDAWSON replied to your story

sarahdawson: WOAHWOAHWOAHWOAH SLOW YOUR ROLL WHAT

CLAIRSSELARUE replied to your story

clairsselarue: “idk what you’re talking abt clarisse” oh i hate you so bad

SILENABEAUREGARD replied to your story

silenabeauregard: i’d know that silhouette anywhere…

CHRISRODRIGUEZ replied to your story

chrisrodriguez: i’m a bit hurt i wasn’t told in depth about this before but i’m too proud to pay attention to it GOOD FOR YOU MAN

MAXWALSH replied to your story

maxwalsh: so it was you who had her phone the other day

maxwalsh: wtf man

lukecastellan: womp womp

lukecastellan: you snooze you lose and you lost big time

♫ Nobody’s Business by Rihanna, Chris Brown

♡ liked by jasongrace , racheledare , and others

[ tagged: yourusername ]

lukecastellan and it ain’t what??

yourusername AND IT AIN’T NOBODY’S BUSINESS

clarisselarue ok edward cullen why are you eating her neck like that

silenabeauregard everyone i took the hammock pic thank me please 🙏😇

yourusername thank you beautiful angel

seaweedbrain cute i guess…….

chrisrodriguez I ALWAYS HAD FAITH IN YOU BRO EVEN WHEN EVERYONE ELSE THOUGHT YOU WERE A LOSER WITH NO GAME, I STAYED ROOTING FOR YOU

lukecastellan appreciate you bro

lukecastellan wait people said that about me???

wisegirll my favs 😭🫶

yourusername AWE ILY ANNIE

seaweedbrain oh i’m just dirt to you then? chill.

wisegirll you’re so dramatic percy

seaweedbrain oh so mental health matters until I’M the one hurt? cool.

lukecastellan and y’all were saying i had no game

seaweedbrain okay luke see that’s just not funny because your dad literally dances on a revolving stage for a living

lukecastellan had to bring out the dad jokes because you know i’m right?

seaweedbrain why is your old age pension ass beefing with me instead of talking to ur girlfriend… weird behaviour

sarahdawson too cute i fear

sarahdawson but you i must remind you mr castellan, i made it onto her feed first. you will ALWAYS be second to me. always.

drewtanaka anyone else hear weeping from the hephaestus cabin…

leovaldez it’s really depressing

leovaldez i think he just punched a hole in the wall

cbeckendorf he did

pipermclean LMAO WHAT A FUCKING LOSER 😭😭☠️☠️

( taglist ) @perseus-jackass @harrysnovia

[rizsu]

can you do another one of your boyf megumi but with itadori 😶‍🌫️ similar plotline to your megumi and nobara one pls

+ love ‘su: *taps mic* hi hello, today we'll yet again be discussing first time bf meg— *dragged off stage*

boyfriend megumi who keeps a passport-sized photo of you in his wallet.

whenever times get rough on his side, he pulls out his wallet to adore you. you're the prettiest girl he's ever seen; looking at you calms him in seconds, but it's no match for you being physically there with him.

yuuji, however, hasn't learnt of megumi's new relationship yet. whenever he sees his friend looking like he's reminiscing about old times with the person in the photo, he assumes it's a beloved relative that's passed on.

similar to the latter, yuuji has once again found himself secretly worried for his best friend. he's even contemplating if he should contact gojo. has things truly been this rough? is he missing that person? what should he do?

so many questions, so little answers. the only thing left for yuuji to do is to sit himself near megumi, opening the pack of gum to offer him. megumi accepts, popping the gum in his mouth immediately.

he closes his wallet, shoving it into his pant's pocket before he leans back into the chair.

“i get it.” yuuji nods, folding his arms across his chest. “sometimes you just miss them, yet there's nothing you can do.”

intrigued by his friend's sudden speech, megumi responds, “yeah.”

“it's okay, though! you can share your worries with me.”

“huh?” megumi's now confused.

“i'm sorry that you lost a loved one, bro. i, too, lost my grandpa. but it's okay—”

“itadori, what are you on about?” megumi interrupts him, chewing on his gum as he judges yuuji. the sudden change in the direction the conversation's going greatly confused him.

yuuji's arms unfold. is he the one who misunderstood...?

“that girl in your wallet... isn't she dead? or something?”

megumi's head shakes, he has no clue why yuuji assumed such. to him, he didn't give off any behaviour/signs that indicates so. it's totally not like he's always slumped in a corner.

“that's my girlfriend who's very much alive. she's just on a family trip, so i haven't seen her in two weeks.”

“ah.” yuuji's mouth hangs open. the new information did not share any similarities with his previously believed one. it's completely wrong.

a hand moves to the back of his head, awkwardly scratching his hair, “haha, so— my bad?”

unsure of how to ease yuuji's awkwardness, megumi laughs it off. it isn't that big of a deal, and it's an honest mistake — it's not like he's the first one to assume you're dead anyway. maybe it's time megumi sets up a date to formally introduce you.

[de4dlyniightshade]

LITTLE BLURB ON SPENCER WAKING UP WITH THAT PAINFULLY HARD MORNING WOOD PLS PLS??

That one hc where you explained bro would rut his hips into the air, the tip of his cock rubbing against the material of his underwear making him whimper, GOD I NEED A BLURB FOR THAT PLS MAMA🙏

꩜ PAIRING: spencer reid x afab!reader

꩜ RATING: +18, mdni

꩜ WARNINGS/CONTAINS!: smut, male masturbation(kinda), morning wood, cumming in pants, that's abt it.

© to de4dlyniightshade. no translations/reposts.

[WARNING!] - explicit sexual content! mdni!

spencer hated a lot of things about being away from you on cases, there was the fact he couldn't ramble to you about anything and had to be professional all the time, also that he couldn't just be in your company of course. he couldn't touch you, kiss you, hug you, hold your hand, nothing, but worst of all he hated waking up without you.

you had fell into a pretty unconventional morning routine with spencer after you realised that every morning without fail he was hard, it was never because of anything specific or because he had a dream about you, he just always woke up hard, even before you met him. so it quickly became a routine that he would wake up before you, patiently wait for you to wake up, kiss you and then you'd help him out a little, it was truly a dream for any man and he loved it but the only downside was when you weren't there, like now.

spencer had been on a case for not even a week and he was struggling, every single morning he was aching in his pants and his own hand just wasn't the same, he was grouchy to say the least, so much so that even derek noticed, spencer having been a little snarky with him.

this day was the worst by far though. the rest had been bad but bearable, the odd day being easy enough to just let his dick chill out on its own but not today, today spencer woke up lined in sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead and the back of his neck, his shirt clinging to him, throat dry and his cock painfully hard in his pants.

spencer knew you can't control your dreams but god he wished he could so he didn't have to wake up from an unattainable fantasy of your mouth wrapped around his cock. usually he didn't have too many raunchy dreams about you, it was almost as if his brain knew you were there and he didn't need dreams to imagine you like that but in the same way it's like his brain knew you weren't there right now.

he couldn't help but let out a whine at the feeling of his length straining against his clothes and also at the realisation that this one was not going away on its own and he had to have a very desperate, very lacklustre jerk off in a hotel room alone, it truly was not his proudest moment.

still delirious and full of sleep he opted for letting his hips roll upward for some friction, his tip brushing the material of his pyjamas making him gasp slightly, the usually soft material feeling so rough against his sensitive cock.

shamefully, he couldn't help but do it again, rutting his hips into nothing just for a little stimulation on his aching length, a pathetic whimper slipping past his lips as he repeated the motion, and then again, and again until he was practically fucking the inside of his clothes.

it was pathetic and he knew it but he just couldn't stop himself, the thought of having to actually jerk off just seemed like so much effort and why would he when this felt so good?

what he didn't realise is that it felt a little too good but he was so caught up in the pleasure and sleepy daze that before he knew it he was choking out a whimper as he spilled into his pants, warm spurts of cum soiling his pyjamas and coating his skin as he continued to whimper and gently rut his hips.

when he finally came down from his high he couldn't help but sigh at himself, he truly felt pathetic, he had just desperately humped nothing until he came in his pants, definitely not his proudest moment but also a moment of clarity that he was not made for being separated from you.