#popped the toast down

[fictional-worlds-are-exquisite]

left the freezer door open for approximately 10 seconds while I put a slice of bread in the toaster and when I went to put the rest of the bread back my cat was curled up inside

brother where did you even COME FROM GET OUT OF THERE

[etherealnoir]

LISTEN.

-Dhan being an emotional/anxiety ridden wreck and just needing support

-M&A asking him if he's okay because he's disheveled and out of sorts, but he's laughing it off even though he's having a terrible time

-Dhan having a panic attack and IMMEDIATELY going to Zeke's house under the guise of "wanting to help with the case" but really just needing support.

-Zeke voicing concern BUT ALSO rushing to explain that Lacey wasn't there as a hookup

-Dhan doing the toast at Zeke's house because he knows what it feels like to be vulnerable and alone and they've found comfort in one another

-Dhan and Zeke being mirror images and building a bond on that

[altaroftransexuality]

top ten breakfasts that inspire poetry

[aporeticelenchus]

Legge

[merofthefae]

Just realized that implementing a toaster in the new stuff pack was a missed opportunity.

[eldritchships]

Olesborn's second set of teeth popping out at the slightest fright vs him helping smooth down EL-12's back spikes when they're pissed off

[cowboycereal]

something really interesting about having your dad make breakfast for you except one of the main components is cheese something you don’t like eating esp in melted form and the breakfast he chose to make me is a cheese omelet which is just… egg and cheese and i hate cheese so i’d actually rather just eat the egg like the cheese is gross to me and i’ll never make this meal for myself ever bc i don’t like it but i’ll eat it bc i grew up being told i either ate or didn’t so like. it’s just interesting to me that there’s not even a shred of care for the fact that i don’t like melted cheese and have actively said that for like half my lifetime at this point but he just doesn’t care. about something so simple.

[tonycries]

Initiation!

Synopsis. “Just a small initiation, nothing too serious.” Couldn’t be too hard, right? So why are you - the all-new frat sweetheart - being pinned to the bed and stuffed full from all ends by your frat brothers?

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader, Geto Suguru x Reader, Fushiguro Toji x Reader, brief Nanami x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, fratboy! JJK men, gangbang, frat sweetheart! reader, cumplay, choking, oral (male + female), anal, double penetration, cunnilingus, Suguru is MEAN - so is everyone else, some heinous things idek how to tag, unprotected, no curses! AU, marking, pet names (princess, darling, doll), swearing.

Word count. 4.8k

A/N. Am not the same person I was before I wrote this…

Art by @_3aem on X.

Tequila was your best friend when Suguru and Satoru weren’t around.

Which is probably why you were five shots deep before 9pm, heavy bass thrumming through your veins and sleek tabletop steady under your rocky heels.

Everything was a blur. The pulsing neon lights, cheers following your every sway and twirl, and the atmosphere heavy with beer and laughter in that heady Jujutsu Phi frat house. 

You almost miss that familiar flash of cloudy white locks and those narrowed black eyes greedily watching your hips to the beat. Almost. 

An excited exclamation of “There’s our all-new sweetheart!”. And the world tilts.

Falling down really does feel good. Especially when the ground is so warm - and smells faintly of overpriced cologne. 

“Careful, there, Satoru. Wouldn’t wanna hurt the sweetheart right before initiation.” 

A pair of strong arms underneath you, and a deep voice hot against your ear. “Havin’ a lotta fun without us, huh?”

Oh, you’d recognize those devastatingly handsome faces anywhere. You blink, eyebrows furrowed slightly at your best friends as you tried to focus on their words. “Sweetheart? Me?”

To your right, Suguru nods slowly, a sly smile playing on his lips. “Absolutely. Who else? No one better we can think of, darling.” 

Satoru’s eager voice chimes in, “As presidents, and the only men to binge Bridgerton with you, we love you. The frat brothers love you too, especially our supervisor.”

“Mmm, I dunno. What do I hafta do?” face heating and words slurring together, in your alcohol-induced haze, you miss the devilish glance shared between the two. 

Satoru chuckles, a dark glint in his eyes, “Just a small initiation, nothing too serious.”

Your laughter is infectious, and without much hesitation you raise your empty shot glass in toast, “Hmm, deal! To the newest frat sweetheart! How hard can it be?”

---

The consequences aren’t half as fun as the chaos.

Wincing at the dull ache reverberating in your head, you struggle to make sense of your surroundings in the dim lighting. Still disoriented and bleary-eyed, you sink into soft navy bed sheets.

Ah, soft. So soft. Warm, with a tinge of candied apples.

Satoru.

Slight panic setting in, and Satoru’s room swaying ever-so-slightly, you try to will away the overplayed pop pounding from the party still raging below - focusing on the whispered conversation at the foot of the bed..

“---blast at the party------”

“------frat---sweetheart.”

Head snapping up in a daze, the word “sweetheart” echoes in your ears. 

Something heated and prickly pools in your stomach as fragments of memories from not too long ago begin to piece themselves together. 

Your dawning realization - and sense of impending doom - is interrupted by a soft hum of delight

“Well, well, look who’s finally awake - our dear sweetheart.” Satoru teases, while Suguru, with his arms crossed, chuckles.

Liquor suddenly nowhere on your mind, your heart races - something about the suggestive gleam in their eyes doesn’t exactly ease your nerves. Your cheeks flare, the room feels suddenly smaller, the air thicker. 

You sit up, rubbing your temples, and the two of them exchange loaded glances that send shivers creeping down your spine.

Satoru pushes himself off the wall with a devious smirk, taking a deliberate step closer. “How’s our sweetheart feeling? You knocked out for a good hour or two, y’know. Was almost worried you’d miss the initiation~”

“What the fuck did I agree to?” you mutter to yourself. Yet, Suguru answers anyway, his voice a dangerous purr, “Just a little test of courage, darling. But don’t you worry; we’ll take very good care of you.”

Satoru nods, his gaze intense. “It’s all in good fun, princess. You’ll see.” His warm breath grazes your face as they tower over you, inching closer and closer. “Now, you wouldn’t go back on your word, would you?”

Goosebumps erupt along your shoulders at the proximity - and the realization - all the way down to where your thighs were desperately squeezing together. Shit.

Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru. It was hard to be best friends with them for years and not hear about the whispered rumors of how they were in bed. Enough to send a woman to heaven - or the hospital - they said. And you couldn’t deny that ugly little part of you that was sinfully curious.

A beat passes in the suddenly charged air. As if they were waiting. Studying your reaction - like predators stalking their cornered prey. Will you run away? Will you fight? Will you submit to them completely?

The room is silent, except for the distant thump of the music below, seemingly miles away. 

One. Two

Finally - not trusting yourself to speak - you manage a nod. 

Darkened blue eyes meet Suguru’s half-lidded ones, a silent understanding passing between them before resting on you - splayed out on the bed and tight dress hiking up so enticingly.

Oh. 

Oh, shit. You were in for it.

Without warning, Satoru surges forward, lips catching yours in a bruising kiss. You whine against his soft lips, the distinct taste of Baileys and Satoru completely filling your senses - you almost don’t register the slow, purposeful trail of kisses Suguru leaves down your heated neck. Almost.

Skin searing where his lips linger along your jawline, Suguru murmurs, vibrations sending a jolt of electricity right to your core. “Shhh, relax, darling. We’ll take care of everything.”

Maybe it was the way Suguru’s words were dripping in lust and something dangerous, tongue darting out to lick a long, sensual stripe up your neck.

Or maybe it was the way Satoru was sloppily licking at your lips, thumb pushing your chin down to suck on your tongue with his candy lips. But the room was spinning - and this time, it wasn’t the alcohol. 

“T-Toru- Sugu-” a muffled whine you barely even recognize rips from the back of your throat - and it was like something snapped. Maybe their restraint, maybe their sanity - definitely you by the end of this.

A hand hot on your thigh - Suguru’s or Satoru’s? You don’t have the time to wonder, the sequins hit the ground before you even realize what is happening. 

Skin-tight dress now in tatters on Satoru’s carpeted floor, you shudder as the cold air hits your heated skin. Large hands everywhere. Cupping your ass, tweaking your hardened nipples through your bra. Leaving your underwear in such a disarray as if it killed them to see you clothed.

“Shit. Suguru, look at this.” Satoru’s groans lowly, predatory gaze transfixed on the sight of your dripping cunt..

“Oh fuck, darling. Were you all ready and expecting this, hm? Our perfect lil’ slut.” Suguru’s smiles sinfully as he looms closer, a long finger playing teasingly with the thin fabric of your now-soaked panties.

You buck your hips, desperate for more fiction, as a manicured nail lightly grazes your swollen folds. Shit, and you thought Suguru would be the nicer of the two. “Please, Sugu.”

“Now now. Behave, darling. Wouldn’t want to get off on a wrong start to the initiation.” Suguru hums, pulling off your panties completely as Satoru’s iron-hold grip on your hips pin you helplessly to the bed. You struggle pathetically, leaking pussy aching for more more more.

And Satoru - your ever-merciful Satoru - listens to your desperate keens. Because, agonizingly slow, he drops to his knees, eye-level with your quivering pussy. 

“I’ll be taking this as payment, princess.” he hums, hot breath hitting your cunt in a way that almost makes you miss the way he snatches your wet panties right out of Suguru’s hands. As if a prize to be won.

Your face burns at the humiliation - or maybe at the way strong hands wrestle your thighs open. You gasp at the burn of the stretch, tense air grazing your throbbing clit as Suguru lets out a low whistle in appreciation.

You were so exposed. So vulnerable. And these fuckers hadn’t even taken off their goddamn shirts yet. 

Mouth opening to retort - or maybe beg for an ounce of friction, just anything that would-

Bang!

Dazed, you whirl your head towards where the door had now slammed open. In your lust-induced haze, you barely register the notion that someone else was going to see you so spread so shamefully and dripping all over Satoru’s sheets. Ah, they were going to scream. They were going to run away-

“Aww, already started without me?” a deep voice rumbles, raspy, dangerous. “Shit, these two brats weren’t kiddin’, you’re such a doll, aren’t you?” 

Satoru’s smirk grows at the slick pooling at your core as you make out just who it was that stood so imposingly at the door. 

Toji Fushiguro.

Someone you’d heard of more than you’d seen - for several reasons. Known around campus as the long-standing supervisor for Jujutsu Phi, but known more popularly amongst students as the man with a dick to die for.

The shutting of the heavy wooden door reverberates across the electrifying air inside. Your mouth drops into a soft oh as you spot the rock-hard cock straining furiously against Toji’s trousers, a dark patch of precum already pooling at the tip.

Oh. No wonder they say his dick can split you in half. 

Eyes following his every purposeful step towards the bed, you absent-mindedly wonder whether your best friends were hiding a matching achingly hard cocks. 

“Oh, fuck yes. Such a pretty pussy.” Toji appraises your cunt, greedily eyeing the way your walls flutter around nothing, slick pooling where Satoru was but a few inches away from where you needed him the most.

“Yo, old man. Catch.” Satoru’s voice rings in the loaded air. Muscled arms flexing, Toji easily catches the flimsy piece of fabric thrown at him, a lecherous smile growing as he realizes what it is.  “M’gonna have a lot of fun with you, doll.”

“Don’t count us out now, Toji. I’ll be making sure she’s absolutely ruined.” Suguru’s slow, sinful drawl has your head spinning.

Probably for the first time in his life, Satoru doesn’t speak.

Instead, he dives nose-deep in your cunt. Pretty ruby lips meeting your swollen ones, urgently lapping up your sweet juices, as if a man dying of thirst.

“Hah- Oh! Toru!” you whine, hips bucking up into his hot tongue as he bullies past your folds and into your quivering entrance, hurried yet methodical. You could feel Satoru’s lips curling at the lewd whimpers ripping from your throat. Bruising grip on your hips pulling you impossibly deeper onto his greedy tongue. 

He wastes no time - stretching you out on his tongue so sinfully, dipping in and out of your dripping hole at a merciless pace. In and out in and out in and-

“Hope you didn’t forget us, darling. I’d be heartbroken.” Suguru’s mocking words ring in your ears. Not completely present with Satoru’s dizzying abuse on your cunt, you can do nothing as Suguru snakes a hand down to your heated core. 

“Don’t move, doll.” 

And before you know it, two more sets of hands are unforgivingly on you.

All you can do is just lay there and take it as Suguru’s cruel, slender fingers tease your folds, up and down up and down - pointedly skipping your throbbing clit. A languid, sadistic smile spreads across his face as you whine in desperation.

Where Satoru was generous and impatient, Suguru wanted to make you cry. How could you ever have thought he’d be the nice one?

Hasty lips are on yours now, a small scar rubbing your lips in a way that so obscenely reminded you of the tongue still ruthlessly fucking into you right now. Pulling away mere centimeters, Toji murmurs lowly, “Open your mouth.”

As if on auto-pilot, you groan as Toji's steady stream of spit hits your ready tongue. Eyes rolling to the back of your head at the warm feeling, tasting of sin and everything you shouldn’t be doing.

Thick, calloused fingers squeeze your cheeks together, his spit now drooling down the corner of your mouth. “Now, show me what those pretty lips can do.” Toji grits out. 

Your eyes widen as he pulls down his pants just enough for his furiously hard cock to spring free, sculpted thighs straddling the side of your face. 

Thick and unforgiving. A prominent vein twirling delicately down his monstrous length. Precum leaking onto his sculpted abdomen, dripping erotically down to mix with your soaked underwear in his veined hand gripping the base.

Nervous eyes flitting between Toji’s bulging cock in front of you, to the slick dripping down Suguru’s wrist, and Satoru’s hooded eyes, miles away, and grinning devilishly around your cunt - you’re sure of one thing - you’d be damn lucky to make it out alive.

Toji’s throbbing head pokes your kiss-bitten lips, precum salty on your tongue. He spares no mercy.

“C’mon now. If you’re actin’ like such a cockslut then learn to take it like one.” Searing grip on your hair, Toji pushes his cock all the way down your ready throat, using your mouth as if it was nothing more than his favorite fucktoy. Maybe you’ll become his favorite fucktoy.

Your pathetic, wet gurgles mix with the lewd squelches of your cunt as Toji’s heavy balls hit your chin. Fat head hitting the back of your throat and your nose pressed into the tufts of thick, black hair at his pelvis. “Mmm fuck yeah.” he groans, thick fingers pressing around your neck to feel his dick down your throat. 

Drawing low hisses as you tongue at his slit, you breath in the heady scent of Toji and you on your panties and Toji-

“Look s’pretty gagging on his cock, darling.” Suguru’s voice is still silken smooth, mockingly pressing a kiss to your cheek. Pooling the trail of spit and precum on his tongue, before licking a long, languid stripe.

“F-fucking freak.” Toji huffs out a laugh, relishing the way you moan so lewdly around his cock. “Oh? You like that, doll? Little slut, aren’t ya?”

A dangerous chuckle, and he’s thrusting animalistically into your poor, pretty mouth. Balls tightening each time his thick cock disappears into your mouth, lips stretching almost-painfully to accommodate him. Toji’s hand closes tighter around your throat, blocking your airway. Making you choke and gasp for air around his cock, blood roaring in your ears.

Shit, he was going to break you.

Suguru’s clever mouth was on your aching tits now, jolts of electricity going straight to your cunt as he tweaks and teases your hardened nipples. Thumb rubbing harshly over your sensitive tip the way he wouldn’t with your clit. Over and over-

“Suguru, gimme the bra.” you whine, hips bucking as Satoru’s muffled words send vibrations exactly where you wanted.

In a flash, your bra is unclasped and thrown to Satoru. Wrapping it around one large hand, it disappears where you cannot see. Yet the jerky, impatient movements of his hand below - up, up, up - and down have your walls clamping down desperately on Satoru’s tongue.

Ah, he looked so pretty when he was shut up with his mouth full of your dripping cunt. Fucked out whimpers leave Satoru’s throat at each flick of his tongue, fucking your pretty pussy with his mouth till you felt raw.

Suguru - the ever-graceful Suguru - had his brows furrowed desperately. Lips messy with spit as he bites and teases your nipples hard, making you cry out in wet, little gurgles that muffle around the throbbing erection in your mouth, fucking into you with reckless abandon. Toji’s heavy balls stinging your face as he bottoms out with each harsh shove down your throat. 

He didn’t care if you could breathe - as long as you sucked the ever-loving soul out of him.

The heady air is urgent now. Hasty movements now becoming more and more frenzied. Mindless with lust. Filthy. Debauched. It was so fucking sinful. 

So it only made sense that your orgasm was the same.

You see white as you cum - or maybe that was the hot, thick ropes of seed that Toji painted your face with. Moans muffled and hips bucking deliriously, you moan breathlessly as neither of the three men give up their relentless abuse. 

Your head shot up blindly in pleasure, sharp teeth digging into your shoulder - hard enough to break skin. Suguru. 

Wrestled down onto the bed by three sets of strong arms still groping the expanse of your body, you ride out your white-hot high on the taste of Toji slipping down your throat, Satoru’s still merciless tongue, and Suguru’s index finally pressing down on your throbbing clit. Hard. 

Blood roaring in your ears, your vision blurs as you sink into the mattress. You think you’re in heaven, and it was only fitting that these demons with angelic faces were the first things that you see there.

“You alright, darling? Can’t have you go passing out on us mid-initiation, now.” Suguru tuts, sharing a glance with Satoru, who was absolutely dripping in satisfaction - and your slick, prettily glossing his lips and nose.

“Mmm- s’fucked out. Ah-” Your violent climax leaves you limp, and you feel like a fucking ragdoll with the way Suguru wraps a steady arm around your waist, pulling you impossibly close against him. You whine as your stinging tits meet his toned body, sticky with the heat of the room. When did he even take his shirt off? 

Satoru isn’t too far behind, with little care for the buttons flinging across the room as he rips his shirt open - creamy chest peeking out in all its chiseled glory. Shit.

You almost miss the bed shifting as Toji sits on the edge, watching the three of you with greedy eyes as he fists his cum-covered cock with your panties. Teasing, purposeful movements up his length.

Suguru’s hand stroking your face, Satoru’s on your hips.

“After all that princess, you deserve a little treat.” Satoru purrs lowly, lips glistening with your juices and breath hot against your ear. Shivers run along your spine - right down to where he was groping and playfully swatting your ass. Darkened eyes narrowed at the way it jiggled against his large hands. 

“T-treat? Wha-” 

Your disoriented stammers are stuck in your throat as Suguru shoves two long fingers into your mouth. Whatever moans leaving your lips are choked and muffled as he forces you to taste yourself. 

Fingers intertwining with your tongue, you’re delirious with the want for more more more - and evidently, Suguru is too, throbbing and leaking with need as he pushes his soiled boxers down. Something cold makes you flinch as your quivering thigh grazes his clothed erection. 

Oh. Who knew your best friend had a dick piercing?

“Fuck, darling. Really should’ve done this sooner.” he murmurs, voice thick with lust and more to himself than you. “Mhm. You don’t know how hard it was to not bend you over and stuff you till you can’t speak, princess~” a whisper from behind you - Satoru.

Before you know it, Satoru’s lips find yours in a fiery kiss amidst it all. As if he couldn’t get enough of the sweet taste of your cunt - and probably never will. 

Suguru is languid and unhurried where Satoru is impatient and starved, rutting desperately against your ass. 

Every twirl of Suguru’s finger is deliberate, leaving a trail of lingering electricity in its wake. And with searing passion, Satoru’s tongue tastes you in all the ways he possibly could. The three of you tangled in an unholy act. 

Fuck, it was messy. So fucking messy. 

Delicate strings of saliva and slick connecting you to the two as drool drips down the corner of your mouth, eyes scrunched closed at the sinful pleasure.

“Fucking freaks.” Toji spits out, eyeing Satoru’s fingers inching closer and closer to your ass, deftly prodding at your quivering entrance. Yet, his movements only grow more urgent, fucking his fist in desperate need to cum - to cum all over you once more.

Satoru pulls away, and you shiver at the cold feeling of his saliva hitting your rim. Once. Twice. Thrice just to watch the way your hole quivers so obscenely for him. 

In the haze of the pure want of the three men around you, it slowly dawns on you that they won’t stop until they’ve fucked you half to death. And you cunt clenches in anticipation. 

Maybe you really were a little slut. 

Suguru only has his flushed tip kissing your folds, but you already feel so fucking full. Maybe it was the way Satoru was now bullying long, pale fingers through that first, tight little circle of muscle. Scissoring you open, hooking a thumb to stretch your slutty hole till he was more than satisfied. 

Through the corner of your eye, you watch Toji. Eyes half-lidded, gaze locked with yours, and looming closer towards you. 

Before you knew it, a rough hand grasps yours, wrapping so daintily around Toji’s fat, leaking tip. Guiding your hand, thumbing his slit to pull his dick in harsh, mindless pulls to get off. It has your sensitive cunt so heated and dripping, slick trailing down your shaky legs. 

“Suguru, think our little sweetheart is ready? Don’t think I can hold back any longer, all her pretty holes are begging me to fuck her.”

You weren’t going to make it out alive. Maybe you didn’t want to.

He doesn’t wait for a response. Your surprised yelps are gagged on Suguru’s fingers as Satoru sheaths himself in your ready hole. A low groan ripping from his throat as you clamp down on him, struggling to bear with the delicious stretch. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, despite the panic setting in, as he pushes deeper and deeper. Inch by inch. “Fuck s’tight. So tight, princess.”

Was he even halfway in? He had to be, right?

Arm now burning with the feeling of Toji fucking his throbbing erection into your fist, you risk a glance behind you, catching a glimpse of the deliciously flushed cock pressing into you. Long, pale, so pretty - so Satoru. 

Chuckling at the dilemma on your face, Suguru hums. “Now, Satoru. That hardly seems fair. Don’t be greedy.” And at that last word, Suguru’s leaking tip pushes past your entrance - thick , with a long vein running down the middle, cold metal of his piercing making your walls twitch - grunting at the resistance that came with being so fucking full from both ends. 

“Just getting to fucking her already. Look at the pretty doll, so eager to please. She’s begging for it.” you moan at Toji’s impatient comment, his precum coating your hand a pretty gloss. You’re fucking yourself in mindless, shallow, bounces that have you split open on both throbbing cocks. 

Satoru’s hand snaking down to wildly draw circles on your clit, jolting at the overstimulation, whine deliriously as both Satoru and Suguru bottom out inside of you. 

Deep moans bouncing off the walls - tight, so tight. You were going to make them pass out. Or worse, cum before you.

“S’alright hah- Fuck!” Suguru can barely get the words out, you’ve never seen Suguru - all grace and poise - lose his composure like this. A slave to desire. And if Suguru was losing control then Satoru was on the edge of absolute insanity, darkened eyes blown-out and short, broken whines leaving his mouth at each breath.

You, on the other hand, have never felt more awake. 

“Oh- oh fuck. Can’t- Too much. Hngh-” Raspy moans ripping from your throat at each little movement, hips moving in a mindless tandem with your best friends’ as they start thrusting in slow, experimental thrusts. 

You felt so unforgivingly full - organs secondary to the cocks splitting you apart till you could barely form sentences.

Filthy. Fucking filthy. 

And the only place you wanted to be right now.

Pulse banging against your throat, sight spotty, you don’t even know if what you’re feeling is pain or pleasure. Head only full of Satoru and Suguru and Toji and Satoru and-

“Awww, look at her- hah- Cock-drunk little whore can’t even speak.”

Bruised tits bouncing as Suguru and Satoru move in sync, fucked-out, animalistic ramming of their cocks into your stretched out little pussy. Delicate tears stream down your face. Your pace on Toji’s twitching dick now jerky, desperate movements to keep your sanity. “Jus’ like that, doll. Yeah-” 

You could feel the burning stretch as their throbbing cocks rubbed against each other through your walls. Balls smacking against your stinging skin and their prominent veins massaging your snug cunt just right. The slapping of skin and Toji’s squelching have your head spinning.

A wolfish bite on your exposed neck - Satoru - as he tried to keep himself together. Arching you deeper into him, thrusts stemming from a carnal, depraved part of him. Faster.

“Oh. So good, princess. Hole sucking me in so good. Ah- fuck. Could do this for the rest of my life.”

“Nasty girl. You love this, don’t you?” Suguru purrs, amusement evident in his tone.

“Y-yes! Love it! Love it Sugu- Toru-” 

With a harsh slap to your clit, both men speed up their pace in your sloppy holes. Relishing in the precum and slick dripping down their sensitive lengths, and the creamy rings forming around their bases.

More. More. More more more more-

This orgasm is more obscene than the last. Supported by Suguru and Satoru’s strong arms, spread open and stuffed so shamefully by their throbbing erections. Your head is thrown back, voice-shot as broken moans leave your swollen lips. Fist moving in a mindless rhythm - no reason or rhyme.

“F-fuck, darling. Gonna-”

All it takes are your half-lucid, fucked out mewls, walls wrestling with the effort to clench around them, for Suguru and Satoru to slam into you purposefully. Once. Twice. Before spilling into you in unison. 

“Hngh- M’cumming. Oh, god m’cumming, princess. Ah! Milking me so good.”

Thick, hot ropes of cum that fill your snug holes. You could feel your stomach inflating, enough to make you feel like you’ll explode.

Cock-drunk, you’re dead weight in their arms as Suguru and Satoru moan in relief, riding out their highs. Endless spurts of their seed splashing into you. It dribbles out of your overfilled cunt and ass, soiling the wet bed sheets beneath you.

Soaked in their cum, barely conscious, body aching all over. Ah, this was heaven. 

“Switch. Wanna cum in her pretty hole.” 

You jolt as Satoru snarks under his breath, pulling out his still-hard head with a lewd pop! A wave of his hot cum gushing out of your abused hole, pooling so sinfully beneath you.

Your knees buckle, brain not catching up yet. Too fucked out, your ready ass barely resists as Toji presses his rock-hard tip inside, pulsing with need. 

“Yeah, that’s right. Take it.” Grunting lowly, veins popping out as his thick cum spurts uncontrollably from his twitching cock. Once. Twice. Thrice. Missing your hole slightly, splattering on your ass. Pushing his leaking head inside in desperate, shallow thrusts. He just needed it inside you.

Slowing to a stop, “Now, what do you say?”

“Th-thank you, daddy.” 

Vision blacking, you barely even register the words. It’s all that is muttered out before Toji pulls out in one, fluid motion and you’re thrown around like a ragdoll. Suguru’s hand firmly pinning yours behind your back, glistening cock still in you, legs spread sinfully open.

He licks a long stripe down your cheek, your tears salty on his tongue. “Don’t think the initiation’s done yet, darling.”

Cum leaking helplessly out of you, Satoru’s hungry gaze - blue eyes barely recognizable - meets yours. “Oh, fuck. Just look at you princess. So defiled. Makes me wanna eat out all the cum inside you before pumping you full of mine again.”

“Don’t cream yourself just yet, Satoru. I think we’re about to have another initiation coordinator.”

What?

Sure enough, distant footsteps steadily approach. Growing louder with each passing second, thick with anticipation. 

Closer. And closer.

The door is suddenly thrown open, light filtering in through the door, illuminating the stern figure standing in the doorway. 

Nanami Kento.

The frat treasurer, infamous as the devastatingly handsome impersonation of a stick up one’s ass, known for rejecting any and every advance left and right. 

His sharp gaze sweeps the charged room, dark eyes revealing nothing, catching on your teary, fucked out gaze, miles away. Body covered in cum and spit, marked like you were thrown to the wolves. Satoru grits his teeth with an impatient huff, looking like he’s ready to positively devour you, irritated at the interruption. 

“What are you doing? This is an embarrassment to Jujutsu Phi.”

In the twinge of disappointment, you can’t help but feel a brief glimmer of hope. Ah, Nanami Kento. Maybe he will be your savior - a temporary respite from the men who seem ready to eat you alive. And won’t stop till you’re not.  

“If you’re going to initiate her then show no mercy.”

The door slams behind him as he steps inside the heated hellhole. A cold shiver runs down your spine. Satoru’s burning whisper in your ear.

“Welcome to the brotherhood, sweetheart.”

A/N. Whew this turned out longer than expected. Tried a new formatting thing, how we liking it??

Plagiarism not authorized.

[sweetnans]

Katsuki always paid attention to little details even when you were only a number in his mind. You ended number seven on the charts after the tests for UA application. He memorized the first ten and then recognized each one of you on the first day of class.

Your ID photo that appeared beside your score wasn't nothing alike like you were in person.

He completely flipped.

He pushed the feeling aside because he had no time to waste on stupid things, and he succeeded for a long, long time. Bakugo ignored you, pretended that you didn't exist and the fact that you were part of Midoriya's group the first months made it easy for him to keep you far away but that also made it hard to watch.

Why were you laughing at what shitty Deku had said? That fucker wasn't that funny.

Why was your hand on Deku's hair ruffling and combing it with your fingers?

He was fuming on the inside.

When Mina started to hang out with you, he was relieved that he won't have to see you with Deku again.

But then, you started to hang out with his group, and everyone loved you instantly. Kirishima always wanted to sparr with you, Kaminari always asked for your help on math and Sero, fucking Sero always inviting you to dance with him.

After he saw the behavior of his friends when it came to you, he almost preferred you hanging out with Deku.

He noticed that you smiled brightly every time Kirishima told you one of his dumbs jokes while having you pinned down on the floor mat after a sparr, but you never laughed.

He noticed your leg trembling under the table when you studied with Kaminari in the common room. He could bet that the bastard used every chance he got to flirt with you in the most hideous way.

He also noticed your pink tinted cheeks every time Sero gave you his hand for a quick dance around the kitchen.

Almost like you were uncomfortable with their demeanor.

You were pretty. He understood that they were making their moves to you, but you were just too shy and good to say anything to them, like you weren't interested at all for example.

One night, he couldn't sleep and went straight to the kitchen of the dorms to grab a glass of water. He never expected seeing you there scrolling in your phone leaning by the sink, waiting for the toaster to pop your bread out.

"You shouldn't be eating carbohydrates this late"

He startled you. He literally appeared from the shadows of the dining room dragging his feet, making no sound at all.

"Jeez, you should wear a bell or something," you giggled when he gave you a puzzled look. "Like a cat? So next time I know that you're coming?"

"I know what you meant." he walked to you and grabbed a glass from the rack.

He felt your presence in his bones like a static pulse vibrating under his skin. Maybe it was just your quirk trying to reach for him.

"What are you doing here this late?" You asked clearing your throat while he gulped his water in one go.

"What does it seem like I'm doing?" He pourred another glass. He wasn't that thirsty. He just wanted to be there in silence with you for minutes, without his obnoxious friends.

Your toast popped out of the toaster, and you grabbed it, burning your fingers in the process.

"Shit, shit," you exclaimed, blowing some air at your fingers to ease the pain.

"C'mere shithead," he grabbed your hand and put it under the sink, letting the cold water flow.

"It's fucking freezing" you tried to pull your hand back but his grip tightened.

"What did you expect? You just burned your fucking fingers doing the dumbest shit I've ever seen"

You didn't know if it was the serious tone on his voice or the way that he was struggling with you stopping you from taking your hand out of the water, but something about the scene made you let out a laugh, a big one. He had never seen you laugh like that before.

"Are you laughing at me?"

That question only made it worse. You were absolutely parting yourself from laughter. He turned off the water and watched you wipe your tears.

"I'm sorry, you're not that funny," you said, returning to your normal state. He grinned.

You passed by his side fetching your toast and poured some jam.

"Do you want some jammie toast with that water of yours?" You asked, offering a half eaten toast.

"Sure." he took the toast, and in return, he gave you his half glass of water.

After that encounter, he noticed that every time his friends were around you, you always tried to find him, looking for exchange glances, giving him a subtle smile.

He started to show up at your study sessions with Kaminari, and he noticed that your legs stopped trembling because his presence was enough for Kaminari to keep his mouth shut.

He also began sparring with you on training sessions switching partner with Kirishima leaving him with Sato.

And everytime Sero tried to dance with you in front of everybody he grabbed your arm and guided you to the kitchen or his room with a lame excuse to get you out of the situation.

Fortunately, his friend read the room pretty well. The three of them enjoyed more watching him play his cards with you than putting themselves on a constant shame.

[foldingfittedsheets]

I am a little creature largely made up of anxieties. There have been times in my life when it was worse. It’s currently significantly better. This story takes place at a time when it was pretty bad.

Food was a prison for me. I moved out early with very little idea of how to feed or care for myself. Every meal was a question mark. For three years I had Brendan doing most of the cooking but when things ended between us I moved in with some other friends. I suddenly had no way to feed myself again.

I was working at the sex shop and living with all my coworkers; a premise that would make sitcom writers weep. In that house, at the age of 24, I learned how to fry an egg. It was the only thing I knew how to do but by god, I mastered egg frying. I was so proud. I could now have one stress free meal a day of an egg on toast.

The problem was my roommates. Living with three other people is already tough but messes pile up alarmingly fast, especially in the kitchen. No one sees the whole mess as their responsibility but the one person who’s responsibility it absolutely wasn’t was mine, as I only ever cooked eggs. Glaciers moved quicker than the dishes got done, mountains of greasy unwashed dish ware were fixtures across the counters.

My friends occasionally cooked for me and each time I happily cleaned all the resulting dishes. This seemed fair.

But on my own I only used three implements for my egg. When I finished with my spatula, pan, and plate, I carefully washed them and set them to dry. Every time I came back to the kitchen there was nothing clean.

Crusted on ketchup, dried food, and unsavory residues plagued everything I needed to touch. So I ended up doing all the dishes twice, once to use my three implements and again once I was done.

I started to realize I’d come home, see the filthy pile of dishes, then go to bed without eating because I didn’t have the energy to wash it all. So I finally addressed my roommates about it. Please, I beseeched them, can these three things always be clean. I cannot function like this, and eating is already hard for me.

The answer returned: no. My request was deemed unreasonable and a counteroffer was made to turn off the small space heater I ran in my room in exchange for them magnanimously cleaning up after themselves. I declined, as my bones ached with cold everywhere except my room since no one else wanted the heat on. The impasse continued. I went to be hungry.

I noodled on it. I schemed. I plotted. And on my day off I went to a thrift shop and acquired a nice little pan and spatula. I squirreled them away into my closet. The plan was just to wash and dry it after meals and keep it in my room.

This is not how it went down. On day one of my pan coming home one of my roommates popped into my room to chat, glanced into my three quarters shut closet and immediately said, “What is that?”

I sighed and admitted my plan. All three roommates roundly condemned my plan as extremely passive aggressive. I tried once again to explain that I wasn’t eating, but my secret pan was now a source of contention, a precious resource held back from the collective.

Their discontent reached a fever pitch and I finally declared, “Fine! I will put my pan in the kitchen. On one condition. If I ever find this pan dirty, ever, I will scrape whatever is left on it into your bedding. I swear to god, if I ever come home to it being dirty there will be a reckoning.”

Terms were agreed.

The first month or two went okay. On the third month I awoke to eat breakfast and found my precious pan sullied. I grabbed it and marched upstairs. Betty was named as the culprit. I strode into Betty’s room and stood over her sleeping form like the vengeful ghost of dishes past.

“If you don’t get up and clean this right now I’m going to dump it on your bed.”

Betty groggily regarded me. “Seriously?”

“I have never been more serious.”

“It’s one time, can’t you just clean it yourself?”

“No. You promised.”

With much huffing and grousing Betty arose from bed and tromped downstairs, hastily cleaning my pan while I watched. “Happy?” She demanded.

I was. I made my egg, cheerfully cleaning the pan afterward, leaving it to dry.

[veritasangel]

Give me stalker!Simon please! Where he never goes far but treats you like a sugar baby and you're left clueless! He knows everything about you! From the way you like your toast to your favourite bra or even your period time. Please please please! Sabrina Carpenter please!!

a/n: whenever people request stuff, i always overthink what they want so i hope this is okay !

warnings! fem pov, contains nsfw content {mdni}, stalker simon, spying/cameras, obsessive, mentions of vibrator/masturbation ↣ wc: 1k

Your neighbour, Simon Riley, quiet, keeps to himself, and always has a dark brooding expression on his face. You never pay him much mind except for the occasional polite wave whenever you pass by. Little do you know, Simon is more than just your neighbour; he is your shadow, a silent protector, and he knows more about you than you could ever imagine.

It started with small, subtle things you wouldn't even notice: how every time you were out of bread, he had claimed he ordered too much and dropped a loaf by for you. Or how when your period was due, you opened the door to him holding a care package of sorts with everything in it that you could want. He said something about winning a lucky raffle and not needing it, so he gave it to you.

It was as if Simon just appeared whenever you needed him, but never intrusively so. He was just always in the right place at the right time, and you'd brush off the odd coincidence with a grateful smile.

“Oh ah, yes, I was just on my way home, grabbed these biscuits from that local bakery, still hot out of the oven. Thought you might enjoy them” Simon said politely, and handed the box to you.

You smiled a little taken aback by the gesture. "Oh, thank you, Simon. You really didn't have to do that."

He shrugged, his eyes on you for a fraction longer than was necessary. "It's nothing, really. I know you've been busy with work, thought you could use a treat.”

But you couldn't explain the expensive gifts that began showing up. A bag here, a delicate piece of jewellery there. No notes, no explanations-just beautifully wrapped boxes left at your door. You assumed it was a mistake at first, maybe some mix-up with a neighbour's delivery, but when the gifts continued, you couldn't help but be puzzled.

They were all things you had admired in passing, or things you needed and just hadn't gotten around to buying. In fact, most of what showed up was already on your wish list that you had definitely written down on a piece of paper lying around somewhere in your house.

Simon was always there, but you never realised just how often your paths crossed. He popped up everywhere you were, the shop, at the park, even at the gym. In your mind, he was just that quiet neighbour who happened to have a similar routine as you.

"Fancy seeing you here," said Simon as he approached the treadmill.

You looked up startled to see him in the same gym at the same time. "Oh, hey, Simon! Didn't expect to run into you here."

He gave you a casual nod, his face as unreadable as always. "Yeah, trying to keep up the regular workouts since I've been off work. Anytime you wanna’ train, just let me know, I’ll help out." he offered, his voice casual though his eyes watched you closely.

“I might just take you up on that," you said, smiling, pleased with the offer. It was nice, you thought, having a neighbour who was kind, yet also seemed genuinely interested in getting to know you.

What you didn't realise was just how involved Simon was in your life. You'd brush off the strange feeling of being watched as paranoia. You didn't know that Simon had eyes everywhere, cameras hidden in places you'd never think to look. 

He wasn't just your neighbour; he was your stalker, though he preferred to think of himself as your guardian. Simon would never say he was obsessed, he merely wanted to care for you in ways you didn’t know you needed.

He noticed the little things, like how you furrowed your brow when you were stressed or when you curled up to a specific pillow after waking from a bad dream. Though it was so much more than that. 

He knew everything from your favourite brand of tea to the exact shade of lipstick you wore, your favourite vibrator, and the cute little sounds you made every time you used it. He loved watching you grow frustrated whenever your fingers failed to get you over that point of release you so desperately craved. Oh, how he could fix that, and one day, he will.

"How was your date last night?" Simon asked nonchalantly, but there was an undercurrent of something darker beneath the words.

"It was…okay," you said with a shrug, minimising the disappointment that was still in your mind. You had expected more, but actually, the evening just let you down.

Simon nodded, his face unreadable as he listened. "Just alright? Well that's a shame. You deserve better than just 'alright.'”

Of course, Simon had already known just how your date had gone; he'd listened to the lousy conversation from a man who was so in love with himself that he couldn't see how great you were. He let it slide and he even ignored the stupid flirting as the evening progressed. 

But what he couldn't handle was the fake moans you were letting out by the end of the night. There he was, ready to imagine it was him making you feel good, and then he heard the first noise you let out, fake and pathetic, almost. After that, he already knew the night was going to end with you so unbelievably unsatisfied that he almost stormed right over to help you out.

Simon made sure your life was comfortable, but he did it so smoothly that you never even questioned it. You were clueless, you knew nothing, and you lived blissfully unaware that it was Simon who was behind all of it. He treated you like a treasure, showered you with luxury and attention, yet kept his true intentions hidden behind a mask of neighbourly politeness.

He was always there, a constant presence, growing more obsessed with each passing day. He loved the sense of power he had, knowing all the intimate details in your life, feeling as though you were already his. Because to Simon, you were. You’re his to take care of, his to protect and his to watch over, whether you wanted him to or not. 

And so you continued with your life, oblivious that Simon was never too far away, watching and making sure you were always comfortable and happy, just the way he liked it.

༄ cod m.list

© veritasangel ↣ 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴

[ellecdc]

How about a fic where Remus falls for reader who is Sirius’ sister? If Sirius freaks out with Regulus and James, just imagine how protective he would be with a sister! Specially if she is sweet and kind (totally opposite of him and Regulus)

will I ever make a sibling fic that isn't chaotic? no, likely not. also, I didn't exactly make her the opposite of Sirius and Regulus but it could be argued that she's better than them anyways. ALSO, I've always refrained from reader-inserts with Black!sister reader simply because I see her as Reggie's twin who looks the way he does, and also can't get beyond the fact that she would have a celestial name SO, in any Black!sister fics going forward, please note that her middle name will have been Soleil which is French for sun, and the boys call her Sunny as a nickname <3

Remus Lupin x Black!sister reader who he has fallen head over heels for [1.5k words]

CW: siblings, threats of murder

Most boys at some point in their lives will be asked the following question:

Are you a mummy’s boy, or a daddy’s boy?

If a boy wasn’t asked such a question, it was likely because the answer was painfully obvious.

“Little Lucius Malfoy is such a daddy’s boy.”

“That James Potter, such a mama’s boy”.

“Oh, sweet Peter Pettigrew, he has always been a mummy’s boy.”

Since the answer was so painfully obvious, neither Sirius Orion Black or Regulus Arcturus Black had ever been asked this question. For them, the answer was simple:

They were their sister’s boy’s.

It was this fact that made Remus Lupin’s current predicament so bloody difficult. 

“Where is she!?” Regulus barked as he stormed over to the Gryffindor table where Sirius was sitting beside James across from Remus and Peter.

“Goodmorning, Reggie.” Sirius offered instead of answering his brother.

“For Sala- hi, Sirius. Where is she?”

“Where is who?” 

“Your sister.” Regulus spat, causing Sirius’ brows to furrow as he chanced a look over his shoulder at his brother. 

“How is she my sister? She’s your twin.”

“Nevermind that, do you know where she is?” Regulus muttered.

Sirius sighed and stood from his seat to scan the Great Hall. 

“Nope.” He offered with a pop of the p before returning to his breakfast.

“I’m going to avada that meddling witch!” Regulus hissed as he stormed off; Remus, James, and Peter all watching after him as Sirius continued happily with his toast.

“Are….you not worried about her?” Peter asked cautiously then.

“Not really.” Sirius responded quickly. 

James let out a breath at that and shook his head in disbelief. “Siblings are weird, mate.”

“Thanks, Siri.” You chimed as your head popped up between James and Sirius; the former shrieking not unlike a displeased mandrake plant as he clutched at his chest. 

Neither you nor Sirius paid him any mind as Sirius nudged his plate closer to you so you could pick from it. 

“What’d you do now?” Sirius asked.

“I simply told one of Reg’s admirers that he was already seeing someone; I hardly see what all the fuss is about.” You offered simply, causing Sirius to look at you in bemusement and mutter “Reg is seeing someone?” at the same time James looked at you in horror and hissed “Reg has an admirer!?” 

You simply smirked and looked at Remus who was sitting across from you and shot him a wink.

He hoped to all get out that no one noticed the heat radiating in his cheeks as he smiled nervously down at his plate, though he was relatively certain he could feel a set of spectacled eyes burning a hole into the side of his head. 

“Wait, why do you look like that?” Sirius asked then, causing the table to look at him to see he was surveying your form.

“Like what?” You asked him slowly, looking down at your uniform as if to see what Sirius could possibly be talking about. 

“You look…like…nice.” Sirius muttered as if that was a particularly bad thing.

“I always look nice.” You argued then.

“That’s not true, you usually just look fine.”

“You’re such a git.” You spat, taking the piece of toast he had in his hand and taking a bite of it.

“Doesn’t she just usually only look fine?” Sirius asked then, and Remus was horrified to see he was looking at him. 

“Me?”

Sirius nodded impatiently as if saying “yeah? What about it?”

“Why are you asking me?” Remus asked somewhat shrilly. 

“You’re objective.”

“And Peter and James aren’t?”

Sirius huffed as he kicked Remus in the shin under the table. “Would you just answer the sodding question?”

“I…well,” and Remus looked at you - you, who always looked nothing short of lovely and radiant and dauntingly perfect in every way, and today had been no exception. But he couldn’t very well say that. “She…she looks fine, yeah.”

Sirius’ brows furrowed further as he turned back to look at you, and Remus tried to pretend he didn’t notice a brief look a hurt cross your features. “You do, though. Look lovely today, that is.” He added awkwardly, simply receiving a half-smile in response. 

“Sunny!” Regulus barked then; apparently having found his way back to the Great Hall in his search for you.

“Oh, Merlin and Morgana.” You grumbled as your head fell back in exasperation.

“What did you tell him?”

“Who?” Sirius and James parroted. 

“Sunny.” Regulus repeated, his gaze never moving from you as he sidled up behind you. “What did you tell him?”

“Oh, stop with the theatrics, Regulus; you’re embarrassing yourself.” You drawled, sounding like a true upper-classman as you refused to look at your twin. 

“What did you tell Fenwick?” He gritted out slowly in a way Remus was sure would make a lesser man cower, but you simply rolled your eyes at him. 

“I simply told him that he was grasping at billywigs because you were already seeing someone.” 

Regulus held your gaze as you raised your eyebrow at him. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.” You hissed, completely unimpressed. 

“Who in the hells are you seeing?” Sirius asked then, causing the two of you to look over at him.

“Nevermind, Siri.” You responded in a bored tone around another bite of his toast.

“I will too mind, thank you very much! Who is my baby brother seeing!?”

“Oh relax, Sirius, there’s no need to call the DMLE; it’s not like Sunny’s seeing anyone.” He chuckled, causing Sirius to snort in laughter.

“That’s true.”

You made a disbelieving sound as you looked between your two brothers. “What in Merlin’s name is that supposed to mean?!”

“That means, my dear baby sister,” Sirius responded curtly as he yanked his toast back from you, “that you must never date, otherwise your big brother will end up in Azkaban.” 

“Oh give us a little credit, Sirius; we’d get away with it.” Regulus countered. 

“Why!?” You beseeched. 

“No one is good enough for you, obviously.” Sirius responded simply, as if you were quite ridiculous for even needing to ask. 

“And anyone who thinks otherwise will end up dead.” Regulus continued earnestly, causing James to bark a laugh.

“Don’t worry Moons, Pete and I will make sure your funeral is nice.” He said as he brought another spoon of cereal to his mouth.

Remus felt all blood drain from his face as everyone turned to look at him.

Regulus stared at him in a confused sort of horror, Peter looked at him with a sympathetically worried expression, Sirius didn’t look exactly horrified or disgusted as Remus had thought he would, but he definitely looked disturbed to some level, and you were looking at him with what he thought (and certainly hoped) was hopeful surprise.

James looked up at the silence to see everyone staring at Remus, whilst Remus just stared at him in betrayal.

“James!?” Remus whisper shouted; his voice having apparently run off along with his bollocks. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Regulus finally asked then, staring daggers at Remus as Sirius raised his hand slightly as if warning Regulus off of his best friend, though never removing his own scrutinising gaze from Remus. 

“James, what’d you mean by that?” Sirius asked James - eyes still glued to Remus.

“I, well, erm. I’m actually, not entirely sure? I just…well…”

“Do you fancy her, Moony?” Sirius whispered as if it was some horrid joke and so completely unfathomable that Remus could possibly find you as enchanting as he admittedly did. 

No, he wanted to say, of course not, Pads. That’s your baby sister, I’d never fall so head-over-heels for the sister of my best friend, that’s absurd. 

But that wouldn’t be true.

And he’d already been outed. 

His gaze moved to you and offered what he hoped was an apologetic smile before opening his mouth to respond. 

“Regulus is shagging James!” You blurted then, causing James to flinch so violently that his knees hit the bottom of the table top, and Regulus deflated severely from where he’d been staring down Remus like some well-trained guard-dragon. 

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” Sirius shrieked then, turning to point his glare at someone other than Remus, finally.

Remus had been so caught up in the verbal volleying taking place between Sirius, Regulus, and James that he hadn’t noticed you had disappeared from your spot beside Sirius until you popped back up beside him and were encouraging him up by the sleeve of his uniform jumper.

And you looked so sweet and so lovely and so hopeful and so mischievous and Remus really was helpless in the pull you had on him, which saw him rushing out of the Great Hall with your hand in his as you dragged him away from your brothers and laughing all the while. 

So yeah, this made Remus Lupin’s current predicament incredibly bloody difficult.

Because if Sirius and Regulus were sister’s boys, you were your brothers’ girl.

And that made Remus Lupin a dead man walking.

[vivwritesfics]

Cat Mom 🤝 Cat Dad

Max likes being anonymous on these bengal cat forums. He likes making friends and talking about his cats without his own name attached to it. The Italian princess likes the same thing (jeez I wonder what happens next)

I had to do a special one for the actual day of my birthday lol

Jim&Sass

Help! My cat got stuck in another room!

Jam&Toast

Dude get offline and go help them!

Jim&Sass

What do I do! The door is stuck!

Jam&Toast

Get a hammer!

Max did just that. He didn't knew the person giving him advice, but he knew her cats. Jam and Toast. Her post showing off her pretty cats, two bengals, were how he knew her. There was nothing else about her, just her cats.

It wasn't a lot that he knew about it, but it was enough. He didn't know that she was sitting eagerly by her laptop, waiting for his confirmation that his cat was all right.

Jimmy and Sassy's dad was an enigma. But Jimmy and Sassy looked sweet and the stories he told about them were adorable.

That was what she called him in her head, Jimmy and Sassy's dad. She was sure her name in his head was similar. Jam and Toast's mum.

Jam&Toast

Did you get them out?

There was a moment where he didn't respond, where he must have been getting the cat out of the other room. Her perfectly manicured nail was between her teeth, but she didn't bite down.

Her nail had been perfectly done for when the driver's arrived for Monza.

His icon popped up in the bottom of the screen, three little dots beside it. She leaned forward as his message appeared on her screen.

Jim&Sass

Sassy is safe

Not sure what I'm gonna do about the giant whole in my door

Jam&Toast

Oh, you've got to show me that door

A picture from him came through within seconds. There was his door, with a decent sized hole in the middle of it.

Jam&Toast

Holy shit, dude

Jim&Sass

Trust me, I know

He was easy to talk to. Grabbing her laptop, she sat herself on her bed, placed her laptop on her bed, and settled down for the night. Jam and Toast, her two Bengal cats, were curled around each other at her feet, fast asleep.

She turned her laptop around and awkwardly snapped a picture of her two sleeping cats. The picture wasn't the greatest, and it was kind of hard to see two cats laying there, but she sent it anyway.

He sent pack a picture of Sassy licking a yoghurt treat from his hand.

They could have spent the entire night talking, the conversation branching away from their cats, but Jimmy and Sassy's dad had to go. She didn't ask where he was going, wished him safe travels and shut her laptop for the night.

***

Jimmy and Sassy's dad hadn't been online since Wednesday. She hadn't expected him to message her while he was away, having fun. But she did miss him. She missed talking about Jam and Toast to somebody that wouldn't brush her off, missed hearing about his cats.

It was Sunday, and she was on the grid. It was a bit of fun, going down to the grid. Sometimes Martin Brundle attempted to speak to her on his Grid Walk.

She stood by the Ferrari, talking to her good friend, Charles Leclerc. When Martin Brundle tried to speak to her, her security guard sent him away.

"Did you hear about Max's cats?" Charles asked after she had told him all about the stuff Jam and Toast had been doing that week. At least he wasn't changing the subject completely.

She frowned at him. "Max Verstappen?" She asked and Charles nodded.

"One of his cats got stuck in a storage room, nearly broke his arm trying to get her out."

She glanced from side to side, trying to look for Max on the grid.

***

Max watched as the Italian Princess approached him with the trophy. It wasn't a win, but he was still grinning. Charles had won Monza in a Ferrari, and Max was proud.

The Princess smiled at him. Max didn't want to consider it flirty, but he didn't know how else to interpret it.

After the Italian national anthem, they left the podium. Max grinned down at his trophy before throwing his arm around Charles' shoulder.

He saw the Italian Princess striding towards them. Stepping back, Max watched as she threw her arms around Charles. They spoke in Italian as she looked at the trophy Charles held.

Max went to move around them, but the Princess fixed him with a look. "How are Jimmy and Sassy?" She asked, letting go of Charles.

His cheeks were pink as he answered her. "They're good," he answered. "With the cat sitter, probably being naughty."

It wasn't a terrible response, but he wasn't getting it. "Max," she said and took a step closer. He was trying so hard not to look weirded out, she could tell. Her hand was on her hip, head slightly tipped to the side. "When are you flying back home?"

He answered and she checked the dainty watch on their wrist. "Do you think you have time to come and meet my cats, Jam and Toast?"

The surprise on his face was evident. "No fucking way."

[aakeysmash]

prompt:

sukuna skipping gym to sleep in and later on does his workout in their living room, using her as a weight when doing push ups, may turn heated hehe

college Sukuna's masterlist

turned this into a college!sukuna drabble lmao sorry!! no smut this time, i wanted to elaborate a bit on sukuna's protectivness toward yuuji :)

You're humming a song from your studying playlist when you hear someone knocking at your door. You look at the clock you keep on your desk near a plant Yuuji gifted you last week. On the terracotta vase there's a scribbled note in the obvious handwriting of a child.

To: baby peach, but no more annoying screams when we play, please!

You smile. He always chooses to be baby mario when you play Mario Kart together because he doesn't want you to feel alone in case you're the only baby character. He's such a cute kid, you're lucky to have him as one of your almost-roommates.

You get up (it's still pretty early anyway) and stretch your back, hearing it pop. You open the door, and standing in front of it is the same kid you were thinking about.

"Hey," you wave at him, a happy tilt to your voice. You look at him shuffling and avoiding your gaze.

"Is everything okay, Yuuji?" you start getting worried. He mumbles something you don't hear clearly, so you make him repeat himself. He juts his lip out, then looks straight at your face.

"Can you take me to school please?"

You raise your eyebrows. Usually, this is a big brother kind of duty: where is Sukuna? Yuuji takes your silence as rejection and starts backtracking.

"Sorry, I didn't want to disturb you, I can just go alone-"

"Sure, let me grab my purse and we can go," you stop him, changing your expression to one of calmness, ruffling his pink, unruly hair.

"Are you sure it's not a bother?" he asks you hesitantly. "Big bro closed his door and I can't seem to be able to wake him up... and I'm supposed to be accompanied by an adult..."

"It's not a big deal, Yuuji. I'll take you in my passenger seat, okay? We'll be there shortly," you reassure him, nodding.

"Thanks," he says, blushing, giving you one of the biggest smiles you've ever seen him do. Your heart melts a little, and he looks at you like you've physically hung up the sun shining outside.

When you get back home, you're not even able to get to your room when you find yourself being squished between the nearest wall and a hot, rapidly rising and falling chest.

"Where the fuck is my brother?" Sukuna grits out his teeth, breathing down your neck. You wince. He's controlling his strength, but he's still a mountain compared to you, and your ribcage is starting to hurt.

"Get off of me right now or I'm calling the police, Itadori."

He notices he must have been too rough and takes a step back, mumbling an apology while still looking at you menacingly. You pat your clothes, making sure there are no wrinkles before answering him.

"I took him to school. He told me he was being neglected by his own caretaker, so I had to intervene," you shrug.

"He did not say that. He doesn't even know the word neglect," he says, sighing. His shoulders drop and he takes on a more relaxed appearance.

"What's wrong with you? You've never gotten up later than 6 am," you ask him, trying to sound nonchalant, walking toward your fridge to make yourself a toast. The truth is, you're starting to get attached to him. In the last couple of months, you've created some sort of bond, and it's probably also thanks to Yuuji and his stubbornness in making you do things like you're a family. Just last night, he forced you both to make cookies with him because apparently his friend Megumi was coming to play this afternoon and "he wanted to make a good impression".

Sukuna, on the other hand, can be a lot. The majority of the time he nudges you to get you to move out of his way (he just does it to see your annoyed face, but he's not going to tell you that), huffs in your face when you say he hasn't cleaned his dishes from the night before, and flips you off whenever you try to have a civil conversation about who's turn it is to choose the film on Friday night. But he's also pretty attentive. It's not like he makes you notice it, but he does feel bad for you when you get out of your room after an all nighter because of your studies. He thinks you're annoying because you're always trying to pry into his private life, but when you're not home Yuuji always asks of your whereabouts. Yeah, that's definitely why he can't stop thinking about you laughing with the boy he literally raised. The boy whose disappearance was driving him insane this morning.

Because sure, Sukuna tells Yuuji he's a brat 95% of the time, and the kid yaps way too much for his taste. He also manhandles the kid badly, telling him he's way too weak to be called his brother, and more often than not Sukuna tells him he's adopted and that he'll kick him out as soon as he can. But you've seen the way he prepared soup every night when his little brother caught the flu in December—he's just full of shit. He'll never admit how hard it was to raise a brother he didn't want at 13, alone and broke. But he'll make sure the child never doubts of having someone to fall back into like Sukuna did since he was much younger than Yuuji is now.

"Didn't sleep well and I missed the gym," he responds, munching on an apple. You hum in acknowledgment, not turning around from the stove.

"You know that pilates class you suggested to me last week? I found their videos on YouTube. I was thinking of starting them today," you quickly change the topic. You know you won't get more than that; him admitting he didn't sleep well was already a win.

"Wanna start them with me, chipmunk?" he asks you. You turn around to slap his arm slightly.

"I told you to stop calling me that," you say rolling your eyes.

"No."

You whine. "Yes, by the way. I want to see you suffer like the men I see on TikTok."

"Come be my weight and I'll do pilates with you today," he suddenly says. You're biting your toast and you're so caught off guard that you start coughing up crumbles. He hands you a glass of water while telling you you're too fucking dramatic.

"What does it mean to be your weight?" you tentatively ask him when you can breathe properly again.

That's how you find yourself sitting crisscrossed on his back, gripping his shirt as hard as you can, while he does pushups and tries not to laugh every time you scream about him moving too much and almost making you fall.

[luveline]

Hey lovely, How about Hotch and wife!reader having their first family outing with new baby, a walk in the park or grocery shopping something like that you can pick.

Hope your having a good weekend lovely Xx <3 🌼

ty for your request ily <3 —you and Hotch juggle your small family for the first time. fem, 1.2k

“Please hold my hand?” 

Having a baby has activated some intrafamily jealousy, but you don’t mind. You’re cooing at Noah adoringly when Jack interrupts, thrusting his hand in the air, the very beginning of a tantrum lining his eyes and his thin eyebrows pinched like a threat. 

“Baby, don’t you wanna come and sit up here with Noah?” you ask. There’s not much room next to the carrier, but Jack's slight. 

He shakes his head, hand poking your tummy. Grocery shopping with Jack has always been hard, he wants to look at everything, wants to take the list, and doesn’t ever wanna sit in the cart, but it’s proving harder today. 

“Aaron, you have to push the cart.” 

He’s been begging you to let him for the last half hour. “It’s gonna tire me out,” he says, nudging you aside by the hip, “but I think I can handle it for you. You did call me by my first name for once. We reward good behaviour in this family.” 

You roll your eyes and take Jack’s little hand. Calling him Aaron now you’ve had a baby together should feel natural, but it doesn’t. It feels more like a loving nickname than his actual name —over two years of calling him Hotch is hard to ignore. 

Jack gives you a loving look that makes the fuss worth it. “This is fun,” he says. 

“This is awesome.” 

You and Jack got used to doing grocery shopping by yourselves while you were on your maternity leave without his dad. With Hotch now on his own paternity leave to accompany you, it is admittedly easier, and much more fun. You and Jack swing your hands together as Hotch steers the cart and your baby into the cereal aisle, which’ll take hours to get through, no doubt, but it doesn’t matter. What else is there to do? 

You make it Hotch’s job to say no to the boxes that are mostly sugar, and, unfortunately for Jack, get distracted by Noah in his baby carrier where it’s locked into the cart. His eyes reluctant to open, tired, dark lashes threaded together at their corners, his tiny mouth. “Aw, look at you, handsome, you’re nearly smiling. You look just like your daddy, he never wants to smile either,” you say, tapping his nose. 

Your saccharine tone prompts distress. “Y/N,” Jack whines, “you need to help me choose the cereal.” He yanks at your hand. 

“Jack, don’t start, bud.” 

“Dad,” Jack pouts. 

“No, it’s okay. We’re supposed to be sharing everybody now, so Jack gets to share me too. I’ll help you pick some cereal. I don’t mind,” you say. 

You sort of do mind, just a bit. This is Noah’s first time out in the world that wasn’t sitting peacefully in the backyard, and you don’t want him to be scared. Maybe baby’s can’t be scared, you don’t know. It’s nicer to feel close to him in these big moments. But it’s Jack’s first time having a baby brother at the store, too, so you’ll have to make it work. 

“You don’t have to,” Hotch says. 

“It’s fine, it’s okay.” You bend down to see the cereal selection. “They have your favourite, Cinnamon Toast Crunch. And your second, Fruity Pebbles. It’s up to you, it’s your treat.” 

Jack gasps and hits a box of Fruity Pebbles, “Barney’s on the box now!” he says, pointing at the blonde character behind the cereal bowl. 

You give a soft laugh quickly lost as Jack’s force topples the box. It hits the floor with a light crunch. “Oh, whoops. Let’s pick this up,” you say, popping down into a crouch without thinking. 

“Honey–” Hotch says, which would surely be followed by a Should you be doing that? if you weren’t already flopping onto one knee in pain. 

Bad idea. Terrible idea. Having a baby tears a mixture of tissue and muscle, and while the fiery pain of labour has since become a bad memory, a spike of trauma erupts between your legs. “Ow,” you yelp, eyes welling with unbidden tears. 

“Y/N!” Jack and Hotch say simultaneously. 

“Are you alright?” Hotch asks, bending at the waist to grab you, never cruel but clearly perturbed as his hands grasp your shoulders. They slip down under your arms. “Come on, can you stand up?”

You blink away tears and force yourself to stand with his help. He’s quick to pull you close, one hand on your wrist, head ducked to see your face. “Are you okay? What happened?” 

You let out a queasy breath. “Something’s not done fixing itself,” you joke weakly. 

“Are you alright?” he asks again, lower. 

“I’m fine.” You’d love to sit down. The pain is a thrum like your heartbeat now, hurting but half as intense. “I’m okay. Really, it just shocked me.” 

He slips his arm around your neck to encourage you in for a temple kiss. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You wiggle out of Hotch’s hold. Jack stands with a large pout near the fallen box of cereal, his hands twisting together over his tummy. “It’s okay,” you say. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, panicked tears slipping down his cheeks. “You hurt getting it and it was mine, I’m sorry.” His voice squeezes out of him in guilty pangs. 

“It’s okay!” you repeat, leaning over with a wince to offer your arms, “It’s really okay, it’s not your fault. Don’t be upset, baby, I’m fine.” 

You hoist Jack into your arms as he begins crying in earnest. His crying startles Noah, who starts to whimper, and then sob despite Hotch’s gentle shushing. You look at one another in mild defeat, your hand cupping the back of Jack’s head as he clings to you for reassurance. 

Noah’s sobbing is like a ringing bell. Jack says he’s sorry into your neck, and it’s such a desperate scene you let a laugh slip out. “Aw, baby,” you say, smiling as you press your nose to his cheek, “it’s really okay. It wasn’t your fault at all, it was just ‘cos I’m out of practice. I’m just tired.” 

“You fell.” 

Noah gurgles behind you. “I know,” Hotch says quietly. “I know. You’re okay, bud. Jack’s okay. Mom’s okay. Shh, shh.” 

It’s obviously not how you’d want your shopping trip to go, but Jack’s crying eventually slows, sapping all of his energy, and so he finally agrees to sit in the cart. The only problem is that he doesn’t fit there as well as you’d thought he would. Hotch ends up carrying him the entire time you’re in the store, and Noah doesn’t ever settle. You’re like zombies when you get back to the car, a headache stark between your ears and evident in his pinched brow. 

“Let’s try again in a few weeks,” Hotch suggests. “I can go by myself. Or we can make somebody else.”  

You wish you had the energy to kiss his brow, giving a defeated nod as you slouch down into your seat, grateful at least for his hand on your knee. “Okay.” 

[tteokdoroki]

☆༉ — KATSUKI BAKUGOU. compression shirts & sweatpants.

about. hello u guys wanted me to finish this so i did lol !!!! i just can’t get the idea of him in compression shirts out of my mind ok enjoy !! <3

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact. suggestive, making out, hickies, dry humping, bakugou being a huge tease, gn!reader, pro hero!bakugou.

“do you get off on this? dressing like a slut?”

after pushing his bread down into the toaster, bakugou stops mid-sip, his signature red riot coffee mug about a quarter of an inch away from the pink and plush curve of his lips. he looks over to you as if he’s an animal that’s been caught doing something it’s not supposed to. a deer in headlights if you will.

“hah?”

you clench your fists, the foulest pout you can muster spread thinly over your features like a veil, as a petulant huff escapes you. you pretend to be mad at the man for as long as you can, turning your head away from him with your arms crossed over your chest. but you can’t help it. you can’t fight it… your gaze trailing back over to him at a snail’s pace.

katsuki bakugou looks like a fucking god.

not only does the stupid black compression shirt he’s wearing highlight the slender accent of his hips and itty bitty waist — but it clings to every muscle in bakugou’s marble-carved body. you can see every bulge of his biceps and ripple in his backs, even down to his washboard abs. honestly, you count your lucky stars every day that you managed to sink your fangs into the blonde before anyone else did, claiming him as your own. you might have even thrown up if anyone got to see him lounging about the place in grey sweats the way you did, the material just barely sitting on his hips.

you have to swipe at your mouth to stop yourself from drooling when he puts his mug down and lifts an arm up high to put the coffee granules back in the cupboard — his shirt riding up just enough for you to get a good look at a slither if his his sun-kissed, diamond cut v-line and waistband of his boxers too. it’s like the guy is purposefully trying to kill you.

just the very sight of katsuki like this, probably fresh from his work out, has you in a shambles — breaking out into hot sweats, panting like a dog. someone might even think you’re sick.

katsuki pays your little tantrum no mind, crossing his arms and leaning his hip against the kitchen counter while he waits for you to finish.

“you look so good.” you relent eventually, shoulders sagging.

shaking his head in a fond manner, the blonde rolls his ruby framed eyes. “no, you look good.” katsuki coos amusedly, arms opening wide for you as you pad further into the kitchen to snuggle against his chest. although he’s taunting you and you’re playing right into his game, you will always love that katsuki finds little ways to compliment you and make you feel adored — you feel it as he presses the wisps of a kiss into the crown of your head. “you always do.”

“it’s not fair that you get to go around like this! wearing that and making me feel all—!” you wave your hands about eccentrically, a heated frustration burning at your nerve endings as you screech your feelings out.

bakugou smiles to himself, sexy and slow, barely jumping when his toast pops out of the toaster. he grabs it, holds the corner of his food between his rows of pearly white teeth and spins your positions so that he traps you against the kitchen counter. “gonna need some context, babe.” you think that he’s going to touch you but instead reaches behind you to grab at his coffee.

freaking tease.

it’s impossible to think clearly when your boyfriend is this close — his intoxicating musky scent of sweet sweat and cool toned aftershave making you dizzy. “i hate you.” you state indignantly, flopping against his chest and letting it’s plushness muffle your speech patterns. “you’re stupid hot. and a slut.”

“you slut shamin’ me, sweetness?”

“s’what you deserve. dressin’ like you don’t belong to nobody. like you belong to the streets.”

“i belong to you, baby. you know that.” chucking his toast onto the counter, the blonde swoops down to kiss you hungrily — tasting of freshly brewed coffee grounds and salt. of course he would get off to something like this. he’s got you right where he wants you, weak in the knees and melting in his arms.

you screw your eyes shut, squirming in place as bakugou steps back and guides your hand under his tight fitting compression shirt, overloading your brain with just how built he is. fleshy pecks and golden abs. he ends up keeping it rolled up so you feel hot all over. “i can get undressed if it makes ya feel better.”

you can’t help that your eyes drop back down to his cotton grey sweats — they’ve slipped a little lower, low enough for his sharp v-line and soft blonde curls from his happy trail to peek out from the waistband. if you squinted (not that you would need to) you could make out the outline of his semi as it brushes against your inner thighs.

this is it. this is the end. “it makes me feel worse actually. like i might die of thirst or something. especially if you don’t—“

“if i don’, what?” his hands are all over you now, splayed over your tummy, digging into your waist — he overwhelms you. pressing his body against yours until you practically feel him through your pores. bakugou is hot (physically, sure) but against you, your desire for him spreads like a heatwave through every inch of your body — from the tips of your fingers and toes to the top of your head.

“kiss me.” you breathe, a neediness seeded into your tone.

bakugou arches a blonde eyebrow, looking down at you cockily. “c’mere then, brat.”

he uses a finger and thumb to tilt your chin up towards him, leaning down to kiss you before tricking you with a fake out. just as you begin to whinge and complain, the blonde squishes your cheeks so you can’t wriggle away from him and licks into your mouth with a teasing laugh. he only kisses you fully when you grasp at his slender waist, feel him up from under his clothes and slip your hands over his ass — just bellow the waistband of his sweats.

“fuckin’ tease,” katsuki grunts, tugging on your lower lip with his teeth and sucking in your tongue.

a free hand wanders from his bottom, climbs up the rippling muscles of his back and tangles in bakugou’s sandy roots — fisting then as you drag him closer, working your tongue into his hot and welcoming mouth. “takes one to know one, kats,” you mewl into him, letting him swallow your satisfied gasps and squeaks.

every action, every groan and grope becomes rougher, needier, hornier — squeezing each other turns to grinding on one another until there’s no room for either of you to breathe and just as you move to shove your hand down the front of his boxers, everything comes to a halt.

you knock bakugou’s coffee over when he lifts you onto the counter.

“ow! hot!” you squeal, still tilting your head back to make room for the blonde at your neck.

he doesn’t stop, nipping at your skin. “yeah, so you’ve said babe.”

“not you, dummy!” swatting at your boyfriend, you push him off. “the fucking coffee on my ass!”

katsuki blinks, his lashes fluttering against the column of your throat while be peeks over your shoulder at the beverage spilling across the counter and seeping into your clothes.

“that’s what you get for callin’ me a slut.”

“oh…oh fuck you.”

“‘m trying babe.”

“fuck you. slut.”

“keep degrading me sweetness, ‘m kinda into that.”

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