𝒻𝒶𝓋 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒹ℴ𝓂𝓈 ‼ my hero academia. haikyuu. mob psycho 100. soul eater. gachiakuta. jujutsu kaisen. blue lock. demon slayer. tokyo revengers. dr. stone. one punch man. dandadan. ouran high school host club. blue eye samurai. alien stage. the amazing digital circus. spider-man: across the spider verse. hazbin hotel. helluva boss. avatar: the last airbender. dcu. stranger things. mcu. law & order: special victims unit. avatar: way of water. arcane: league of legends. call of duty. dispatch. mouthwashing. five nights at freddy's. poppy playtime. squid game. homicipher. sally face. avatar: the last airbender.
please don’t be afraid to say hii !! i wouldn't mind making friends on here :)
Pairing(s): Munch! Simon Riley x ftm reader. Pussy and clit is used in this!
Munch! Simon who needs your pussy at all times. Ever since he'd retired from service, his pent-up desires know no bounds. He craved and needed it, no matter where it happened- even during the night or in a secluded place in public.
Munch! Simon sees you minding your business on the couch, wearing nothing but boxers. Like the flash, he's instantly on his knees and your boxers are lowered to your knees. Your legs were on his shoulder as he buried his head between your thighs.
Munch! Simon has a PhD in pussy eating. Simon lifted his mask to expose his mouth before latching it onto your fuzzy entrance. Your hand held onto the man's mask as he ate you out. His tongue lapped at your folds and flicked your throbbing clit. The thousands of nerves inside the nub lit your body on fire.
Munch! Simon can only groan, sending the vibrations through your body. His eyes roll to the back of his skull as he is drunk on your juices. Simon would also thrust his fingers into your tight heat while toying with your clit. Suckin' on your folds while softly biting your clit. He would leave your body shaking violently as it was too much but it felt so good.
Munch! Simon always makes you cum more than once. It's only right! When he feels your insides spasming around him before he feels the wet sensation on his tongue or fingers; he's already gonna make you have a second one. He's not gonna stop until you squirt for him. Even then, he's gonna continue.
Now, Munch! Simon does eat you out whenever you're having body dysphoria. He pins you down and tells you that you're the hottest and most handsome man he's ever seen! He would praise your body saying that you've gained tons of muscle and that everything is coming along nicely!
Another thing is that Simon loves being sat on. He loves being suffocated by your pussy and juices. Plus size? That doesn't matter, in fact, Simon loves that! He wants to feel your total weight on his face he drowns in your juices. It's his preferred position when he wants to squirt for him.
He swallows every drop like he's a dehydrated man. Simon savors the taste. Now, he's gonna that two more times.
Imagine Jack Abbot doing your testosterone injection…
It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been on testosterone, you’ve always procrastinated doing your shot because stabbing yourself with a needle every week is just straight up annoying. Luckily for you, your boyfriend is a doctor. Who’s more qualified to do your shot than a doctor?
“Jack…” you whine out, looking towards the older man from your cozy spot on the couch.
He doesn’t even bother looking up from his book, simply responding with a “Hm?”
You nudge his outer thigh with your foot, getting him to look at you with a raised eyebrow, “Can you do my t shot for me?”
That certainly grabbed his attention. A cheeky smile creeps across his face as he closes his book, “I thought you’d never ask.”
It didn’t take very long for Jack to grab your shot kit from the bathroom and make his way back to where you were sitting. He sat before you atop the coffee table, putting on a pair of blue nitrile gloves. The snap against his wrist causing an unexpected flutter in your chest.
“Alrighty then,” Jack begins, vial in one hand as the other draws the oily substance into a syringe, “I’m gonna need you to either remove your shirt or lift it above your naval.”
You were quick to comply, raising the hem of your pajama shirt a few inches above your bellybutton. Jack nudged your legs open with his knee so he could get closer to you. He leans in, gently gripping your thigh as he swabs a small section of your stomach with an alcohol pad.
He looked so focused, so professional, it made your face feel hot. He pinched a fatty portion of your stomach between his fingers, easily and quickly penetrating the layers of skin with the thin needle.
Though you’d been on testosterone for a while, the intrusion still caused a small flinch. Jack looked up at you as he slowly pushed down on the plunger.
“Atta boy. Good job, sweetheart,” he praised with a low voice, “taking it so well for me.”
You nearly swatted him, he knew exactly what he was doing saying things like that, “Knock it off, asshole.”
He let out a soft chuckle as he retracted the needle, quickly placing a bandage over the injection site, “Wow, calling me an asshole after I did something so nice for you? How ungrateful.” He tutted with a small shake of his head.
After safely disposing of the needle in your sharps container, Jack pushes the rest of the kit to the side and plops back next to you on the couch. He places a still gloved hand on the injection site, gently massaging it.
“With an attitude like that, you better not expect me to be so helpful when you start getting all needy later,” he teases, using his free hand to pat your inner thigh, “we both know how worked up you get on shot day.”
This is probably really bad and/or boring sorry. I just had thoughts I wanted to share. Wanted to make this smutty but Jesus fuck I don’t have the creativity for that right now. Rip.
Anyways happy pride month to my Jack Abbot fanboys 💕🏳️⚧️
Rated: Mature (sfw I just want to be safe as this contains some heavy shit)
TWs: self hatred in regards to one's transness, heavy angst (happy ending tho), internalized transphobia, referring to past self using she/her, fear of rejection, pre-transition male reader, ftm/AFAB male reader
1.3k words
After the betrayals Simon had faced, it was very clear from the very start of your relationship that communication had to be direct, honest, and to the point. You had been stewing on this for… how long? Weeks? Months? Years? You weren’t sure when it all started, but the pot had boiled over. Maybe you had always known; maybe you hadn’t. That didn’t matter now.
All those societal expectations culminated in one giant realization that the woman who walked down the aisle to marry Simon Riley wasn’t real. She never was.
After the betrayals Simon had faced, it was very clear from the very start of your relationship that communication had to be direct, honest, and to the point. You had been stewing on this for… how long? Weeks? Months? Years? You weren’t sure when it all started, but the pot had boiled over. Maybe you had always known; maybe you hadn’t. That didn’t matter right now.
All those societal expectations culminated in one giant realization that the woman who walked down the aisle to marry Simon Riley wasn’t real. She never was.
The two of you were getting ready to get dinner with the rest of the 141 crew when you just couldn’t take it anymore. “I’m trans.” you blurted, and Simon paused the tying of his boots. “I think I'm a man…. No, I know I’m a man.” He was silent, waiting for you to continue, or at least elaborate on the bomb you just dropped.
“I-I couldn't go another moment without telling you. The guilt was eating me alive, but now you just have to sit with that for the whole dinner without being able to talk about it and that’s unfair, and fuck, I’m sorry, Si.”
He waited until he was sure you were ready for a response, “I– We… can stay home and talk. If you’d like.”
“No,” you said with a bit more force than you had meant, and you winced at your own tone. “It will give us both time to think while surrounded by safe people without forcing ourselves to talk about it.”
He looked back down to finish lacing his boot and you simultaneously wanted to sigh in relief from the redirection of his piercing stare, and scream at him to look back at you.
Simon sensed that silence was best for the moment, so you both allowed yourselves the opportunity to disappear into your own little worlds for the duration of the ride to the restaurant.
You didn’t notice that the car had stopped until you felt his hand on your knee, gently bringing you out of your reverie. You were about to smile when you remembered where you were. What you were.
You cringed away from his touch, and you could see the hurt from behind the face mask he wore. This was for the best. You didn’t deserve soft touches when you had shattered everything. Sure it would hurt him, but he didn’t deserve a broken spouse. Would he call you his ex wife? The man that tricked him? Would he pretend you had never existed? Your thoughts began to stew and fester, forming a knotted tumbleweed that blew back and forth as you ran helplessly after it.
“Love,” he said, careful not to refer to you by name. He was unsure what things were okay and he just needed someone to tell him that they would be. You needed someone to tell you they would be.
Instead, he settled for a request; something he did not often make. “If we leave this car, you have to promise that we are going to talk the minute we return to it. You don't have to explain everything, but we need to work through the fear that is clearly fogging your mind right now.”
He wasn’t even talking about his own doubts; what it meant about him. You wished he could be as selfish as you were. He deserved to be selfish after the life he had lived, and yet here you were, the person meant to help get him through it all; the reason everything was crumbling.
You swallowed the bile threatening its way up your throat and nodded.
“Love, I need you to promise.”
“I… I promise.”
“Good.”
—
Dinner was torturous for the both of you; each watching the other and envying the fun they appeared to be having while also knowing it was all for show. You couldn’t decide on the way back to the car whether to drag your feet or sprint and get it all over with. Just like your relationship was about to be.
When the doors closed Simon took a large sigh. You both spoke at once:
“Simon, I–”
“I don’t–”
You paused, expecting him to demand your confession. He surprised you by not allowing you the first word.
“I can’t say I completely understand what’s going on, because all I have to go on are two sentences said as we were already out the door, but I have a few things to say, and I need you to let me.”
You winced at his calculating tone and choice of words, far different to the softness he normally held with you. Used to.
He tapped your leg and gestured to the back seat. It would be much easier to talk back there. Once you were both situated, you nodded for him to continue.
“I have come a long way over the last couple of years in terms of my understanding of identity, and I have you to thank for that.” He attempted a smile, “I might not get it at first and fuck up, ‘cause I’m not very educated in this specific thing, but I want to be. I want to figure this out. I want to figure you out. I want you to be okay.”
His words poured over your heart like molten honey; sweet, but burning.
“Your go.”
How were you supposed to explain to the man that you loved more than anything in the world that he didn’t have a wife anymore? How were you supposed to break it to him that he never had a wife and he had been married to a man without his knowledge for years? He wasn’t gay. Sure, he supported your queerness, but supporting, and even dating someone that wasn’t straight was very different than being open to it yourself.
“I don't think you understand, Si. I'm not a woman, not even a little.”
He flashed you a wry smile, “Yeah, I gathered that, luv.”
You almost smiled back. “I can't be your wife anymore, Simon. I can’t be anyone’s wife. Hell, I never was your wife. You’re not gay, so how do you expect this to work? It can’t.”
His hands gently rested on your checks and directed you to look at him. You couldn’t.
“Sweetheart, look at me.”
You mustered a glance and he continued, “Do you understand how hard it was for me to leave our apartment? Our car? Hell, sitting across from you, unable to hold you and tell you I wasn’t going to run the first chance I got was torture.
“You have taught me a lot of things. How it’s not ‘soft’ to put sugar in my tea, or ‘weak’ to admit to the pain on days with flare ups. You have stuck with me through everything; failing at getting sober from alcohol countless times before I succeeded, learning to work past the idea that everyone and everything is out to get me, and forcing it down my throat that no matter what I think, I deserve your love. Can’t you let me give you the same?”
You felt the tears prick behind your eyes, “Si…”
“If your main concern is whether or not staying with you would make me gay, I suggest you rethink my priorities. I don’t give a shit what our titles are, as long as I get to have you. Hell, if you change your name, I’ll marry you again so we can share it.”
You finally let most of your worries slide off your shoulders and the tears came. Fear. Relief. Uncertainty. Adoration.
Simon finally got to wrap you in an embrace and hold you until the tears slowed.
You let out a shaky breath accompanied by a half hearted laugh, “Fuck…”
He hummed, “About what you said earlier regarding not being able to be anyone’s wife.” His eyes shone with humor, “You’re not allowed to be anyone else’s husband either.”
never written for a trans masc reader before so please tell me if I did ok or not lol
this should tide yall over while midterms have me in a chokehold. I swear I will start working on asks once I actually have time to write again
Messaging people for the first time is so hard. What am I supposed to say? Like, "You seem really odd and your blog intrigues me. Do you want to have philosophical conversations or perhaps talk about fictional characters?" What! Whatever. I will just follow you back and stare at your blog with my big beautiful brown eyes.
Reblog if you're okay with people coming into your DMs with the "you seem really odd and your blog intrigues me, do you want to have philosophical conversations or perhaps talk about fictional characters"
im sorry but i giggle maniacally every single time someone writes simon saying “wot?” instead of “what”
i know that its to sort of translate his accent but every writer ive seen do it always does it in the most funniest way possible i just can’t help but giggle.
it doesn’t help that every time i see it i also imagine him looking like the surprised pikachu meme
You’re on the phone with your boyfriend, discussing plans for the evening while you dodge the masses of people walking past you in the afternoon rush.
“Okay, I’m almost at the metro, we should probably hang up before the signal cuts,” you tell him, looking over your shoulder before crossing the bike lane. “See you soon!”
“See you soon. Love you,” he said, hurriedly like it would mix into the static noise of the phone call but reach your heart all the same.
“Huh?” you said, raising your voice to indicate you hadn’t heard him.
“I said I love you,” he repeated bashfully, frowning at the poster on his wall.
“Ha ha!” you chanted, making some people turn to you, startled, before continuing in the direction they were going.
“Eh?”
“Made you say it twice, heard you the first time, love you, mwah!”
“Wh-“ Then you hung up with an evil little laugh.
Wearing a wide grin, which probably made you look like an aspiring psychopath, you skipped down the stairs to the metro, excited to see your boyfriend, who loves you x 2.
Tsukishima, Hoshiumi, Suna, Kenma, Osamu, Daishou, Kunimi, Iwaizumi, Kyotani, Sakusa, anyone you want it to be<3
masterlist
inspired by a conversation I had with @cottonlemonade<3
rin was vibrating beside you on the couch, eyes flitting to you every now and then from his phone where he had been on the same app for the past half hour.
you had noticed him of course, how couldn’t you when he was literally staring at you with those big teal eyes like he was going to ask you if you had any games on your phone?
by the second hour, rin was batting his unfairly long lashes at you, almost pouting. you finally put your book down to look at him but he immediately looked away, pretending to focus on his phone.
“what is it?” you spoke up, “nothing.” he replied almost immediately. gosh, your nonchalant boyfriend. “you’ve been staring at me for the past hour, rin. ’fess up.”
his lower lip twitched but he still didn’t look at you. you internally sighed, “wanna make out?” you cocked your head to the side.
rin’s eyes widened momentarily before he began nodding slowly. a thick blush crept up his neck, spread through his cheeks and travelled all the way up to the tips of his ears.
you shook your head with a smile and grabbed onto the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss.
your boyfriend is so easy!
a/n: yess dumbass nonchalant rin
2025-2026 — @reositos ★ don’t copy/modify/translate/repost to other sites. also don’t feed my work to ai.
Uhm— ghost who is absolutely addicted to giving you kisses??
You were the one to really introduce him to the concept, giving him a quick peck on the lips after a night out. From that very first brush of soft skin against his, ghost was hooked.
Now, it seems like all he wants to do is kiss. Ghost doesn't care where you are, if there's others around, he'll be wrapping a big paw around your waist and begging "kiss? Please, lovie? Kiss?"
Whenever he fist sees you in the day, he's already hooking a thumb under his mask and pulling it up just enough to firmly press his lips to yours.
Yes, the team gets to see plenty of it, especially when he invites you out to drinks with them. You're the obnoxious couple who will be trading spit in the corner after two drinks, ghosts thighs spread wide for you to sit on, licking into your mouth like he's trying to taste your heartbeat, "c'mon, love, more? I missed you this last op, wanna feel yer tongue against mine–"
Oh, and if you try to initiate a kiss? Ghost is acting like a blushing bride. A quick peck to his lips over his mask earns you an indignant squeak, followed by the facial expression equivalent of his brain restarting, face all red if you could see it. Of course, it's quickly followed by him dragging you back by the collar for "a proper damn kiss. None of that fake shit–"
Whenever someone tries to tease him about it, ghost never falters. He loves you, why would he be embarrassed about kisses? Once, price made a snide remark about ghost acting like your needy wife, and he shot back "when was the last time yer missus gave you a kiss, john?"
Needless to say, you'll never find yourself short on supply of kisses.
For the nonny that wanted to suffocate on ghosts tongue <33 hehe
Imagine you’re just out walking your dog, hood up, earbuds in, having a nice little stroll like a normal person.
And then there’s pounding footsteps behind you, a hand snatching the back of your jacket, and suddenly you’re yanked off your feet and hauled backwards against a stranger’s chest. There’s a gun jammed up under your chin and some asshole is kicking at your dog.
Your dog- your rescue dog- bolts, leash slipping from your fingers, and the blind panic that hits you has nothing to do with the weapon under your jaw or the group of very armed men who suddenly appear in front of you barking orders.
“Put the gun down!”
“Let them go!”
“Hands where I can see them!”
There are like, a plethora of different voices shouting, guns raised, tension sky high, and all your brain can process is: oh my god this is going to set him back so bad in his recovery.
You’re squirming in this guy’s grip, not because of the gun, but because you are furious. that’s your baby. your abused, soft-eyed, loud-noises-are-still-scary baby.
The shouting ramps up, your annoyance ramps up with it, and finally you just snap, throw your head back and slam your skull into your kidnapper’s nose.
He screeches, his arm jerks, there’s a deafening crack of gunfire from someone in front of you, and a hot spray of blood hits your face as the guy drops. You slip in it, hit the ground hard, ears ringing.
And all you can think is: oh my god my dog is definitely freaking the fuck out somewhere.
You’re probably a little in shock because your survival instincts are nonexistent. instead of crawling for cover, you suck in a breath and start yelling at the top of your lungs. “GHOST! GHOST, COME HERE, BOY! IT’S OKAY, YOU’RE SAFE! MOMMY’S OKAY!”
The armed men in front of you actually jerk back in surprise.
You scramble to your feet, still wobbling, spinning in circles as you cup your hands around your mouth.
“GHOST! COME HERE, BABY! IT’S OKAY, SWEETHEART, YOU’RE SAFE, MOMMY’S RIGHT HERE! ”
“Uh… Ghost?” one of the men asks carefully.
You whirl toward him, wild eyed. “Yeah, that’s my fucking dog. My good boy who has been doing so well in his recovery from being an abuse victim, and now his progress is probably going to backslide because some jackass decided to play hostage taker- GHOST! C’MERE MY WITTLE BABY BOY, MOMMY WILL TAKE CARE OF YOU- ”
Three of the soldiers are doing that nervous side eye thing at the fourth one- a hulking mountain of a guy in a skull mask- who has gone absolutely, completely still with a very real, very noticeable bulge forming in his cargo pants.
You, meanwhile, are still cupping your hands and cooing into the empty street:
“Ghoooost, baby, it’s okay! Mommy’s okay! Come to mama, my brave, handsome boy!”
your now ex-boyfriend sukuna decides to flaunt his new girlfriend around the latest frat function, your hot best friend's take it upon themselves to show him you're completely unbothered the night after the break up... || my response to all the dumb gojo twin drama @sweethearticism this is for you my girl
to say you were fuming would be a terrible, towering, tragic understatement.
your asshole of an ex, ryomen sukuna, (whom you had only just broken up with, by the way) was making a big show and dance of flaunting his new girl in the middle of a party you now seriously regretted going to.
the theme was black-out, but the short raven dress, nor the pretty onyx heels you adorned, did anything to boost your confidence. especially not when faced with this display.
his big hands flew all over her skin as they danced and laughed together, those ringed fingers digging into her hips, not yours…
my god, it's been a week! could he have some class?
as you're seething from the kitchen with a drink in hand, contemplating stomping over and pouring it all over his fat, pink head, you're interrupted by not one, but two sets of hands smoothing over the back of your exposed shoulders.
you shiver in place, then whip your head around only to be met by two pairs of crystal blue eyes sliding up and down your pretty body.
"you're all dolled up, what's the occasion?" sato, the nerdier twin, smiles.
to the right, toru butts in, giving his fratty two cents. "holy fuck." he whistles. "you look sexy, [name]. nice to see you showing that body off instead of hiding it away because of your crazy boyfriend suku—"
"—shut up." you scold, pressing a manicured nail against toru's plump lips. "i don't wanna hear that name tonight." you sigh, the tension in your shoulders dissipating slightly as you lean against the counter, looking up into both of he boys' eyes.
you'd been good friends with the twins ever since first year, although for a good two weeks, you lowkey thought they were the same guy.
you were in sato's lab and toru's math lecture, and it just so happened that you'd sat next to both of them in their respective classes. you'd just assumed he liked to switch up his style.
on mondays in the lab, he obviously liked to dress a little nerdier, with thick-rimmed glasses and graphic game tees hanging off his bulk. then, in maths, you'd assumed he decided to dress trendier to impress the multitudes of friends he hung with at the back of the hall.
the fact that they were, in fact, different people, only dawned on you when you saw them together at a party three weeks after meeting them. that was definitely an awkward conversation..
nevertheless, you'd gotten closer and closer as the years dragged on, sharing inside jokes and lighthearted banter other guys could only wish they had with you.
that was, until, you started dating sukuna.
he hated the twins. to be honest, they might have been a contributing factor to the inevitable break up (not undermining his disgusting mistreatment of you).
but now that you were free from the tatted man's year-long curse, the boys saw it as the perfect opportunity to weasel their way into your heart and get their best friend back.
"y'know, standing here getting all angry over it isn't gonna make it go away," sato states, leaning against the counter space to your left while toru mimics his motion on your right, both of them caging you between them.
"mhm, and acting like you care only feeds his fatass ego. come party with us, baby. we'll show you a good time." toru flirts, placing his palm over the back of your hand that rests on the bench.
you think on it. i mean, you're already a little bit tipsy, already a-lotta-bit upset. what was the harm in having a little fun?
you huff out a sigh, then let a small smile slip by. "mm, i guess.."
"perfect!" they say simultaneously.
you end up being dragged across the room to the beer pong tables, watching a few games play out amongst the competitive frat bros while the twins take turns holding you against them in some way, shape, or form.
sato would have your delicate hand weaved through his arm, then toru would get antsy and throw his bicep over your shoulder. it was an exhausting back and forth, to be honest.
but when the table clears out, toru is embarrassingly quick to claim the next game. “kay! we’re running teams,” he announces, clapping obnoxiously to get attention from onlookers. “th' winner plays on.”
a few people gather around, eager to see how this pans out. toru was pretty well known for being a monster at beer pong.
sato takes your wrist and pulls you over to the array of lined-up solo cups, propping you up at the opposite end to toru. his chest presses against your back, pushing you up against the edge of the table. on the other side, his brother paces back and forth ready to go.
"i'll help you out if you need," the nerdier twin suggests from behind you.
you glance back at his righteous expression. “oh yeah? are you actually good at this?”
his chin dips close to your ear. “i’m good at everything that involves angles and positions. y'know, the whole physics thing."
you snort. “that was the most virgin thing you’ve ever said, holy fuck."
toru cackles out a laugh from across the table, but sato squeezes your hips softly in warning. you did kinda miss how possessive he got before your life was ruined by sukuna, you are suddenly pleasantly aware of how boxed in you are, with this cocky geek behind you and his himbo brother ready to destroy you from across the table. yikes. or yay, however you decide to see it.
"you can do this, hun. i believe in you." toru winks, and you can only flush in response, taking your first shot.
after a few goes, it becomes very obvious that the beer pong gods have not blessed you, let alone touched you with their heavenly hand. you miss almost every shot.
toru groans after about the third time. “c'mon, baby. that was just tragic.”
“shut up,” you snap, and sato chuckles from his spot behind you.
"maybe bend your knees more?" he suggests with a smirk, pulling your hips back until your butt meets his crotch.
“don’t tell her to bend anything,” toru shoots back, and you flush before squirming out of sato's grip.
by the third game, you're slightly getting the hang of things. you haven't missed in a while, you're reaching flow state.
from their respective positions, the twins exchange a look, then peer out into the sea of people while you're distracted taking your turn, trying to see if they can spot sukuna gawking.
and, bingo. he is.
he’s near the dusty leather couch on the far right wall with his big arm slung over that girl’s shoulder. she’s laughing and talking into his neck all flirtily. it makes them both sick to their stomachs, but they notice how he barely reacts..? he used to react to you when you did that.
surely if they could see how badly he'd fucked up by losing you, he could too, right? they could only hope, because that would make their revenge scheme that much sweeter.
this clearly gets toru feeling some type of way, because he's got that special look of lust on his face that he only gets when showing other assholes that he is, in fact, better than them.
“hey,” he says suddenly, stepping closer to you while sato grabs the ball from a missed cup. “if i win this round, you owe me something, yeah?"
“oh my god,” you groan. “what.”
he tilts his head, blue eyes bright and oh so cocky. “a kiss.”
you roll your eyes. “you’re such a child.”
“nuh uh. not just any kiss,” he continues, ignoring you. “a good one. y'know, with lots of tongue.” he wiggles his eyebrows playfully, but the thought of pushing up against some wall and kissing you senseless in front of your ex has him feeling anything but playful.
a couple guys at the table howl in laughter, and toru eats it up with a taunting smile.
you don’t notice that sukuna has his eye keen on you, but the gods must of , because something in your heart, call it divine intervention, tells you to say yes.
“m'kay,” you say, lifting your chin. “but you actually have to win, y'know. no cheating or anything."
toru grins like you just handed him the keys to a car he’s been eyeing for years. “watch me.”
he doesn't miss a single shot that round.
not one.
he’s utterly ridiculous about it too, bouncing the ball off the table in an overly exaggerated fashion, blowing on it before he throws, winking at you after every cup dunks with a plonk. by the time the last one drops into the water, the table is chanting his name and you are flushed from more than just the alcohol.
“pay up,” he says immediately, stepping around the table. his cock's actively throbbing with anticipation.
by this point you're laughing and definitely tipsy enough that your thoughts aren't quite lining up properly. "mhmm." you sigh, pacing toward him with sato in tow.
he lifts your chin to stare you straight in the eye, then takes note of the bashfulness in your expression. “c’mon,” he murmurs. “don’t go shy on me now.”
as you smile shyly and inch in closer to seal the deal, sato suddenly pulls your shoulder back to stop you.
"what the hell, man?" toru protests, hands thrown up.
but sato, ever the observer, leans into his twin's ear to whisper something under his breath.
you try to make out what they're saying, but the frank ocean floating through the air was making that increasingly difficult. you watch as toru's once irritated expression morphs into a big grin, and you gulp.
"toji! c'mere." he shouts over the room toward the kitchen, where toji's manning the expensive alcohol. the buff boy sighs before pushing off the bench, stalking over to the twins.
"what d' you assholes want?"
then, three minutes later, the boys are dragging you back to the kitchen as toji stands on a nearby table. "body shots!" he announces to the nearby crowd, and the reaction is exactly what the twins wanted.
oh.
everyone's circling around the kitchen table, very eager for a little spice. the two boys gently guide you towards the crowd, keeping you close as they watch the people flock. toji lifts both hands for quiet, grinning when the noise barely dips.
“alright, listen up,” he calls out, pointing at the cleared table. “two people will come up. rock, paper, scissors, then the loser lays back right here.” he slaps the surface. “th' winner takes a shot from their neck.”
the crowd roars at that like a bunch of horny slags.
“first pair?” toji barks.
shoko and yuki, like the fine ass lesbians they are, push through to the front of the crowd with pretty smiles shrugging off their jackets, their cheeks flushed pink with whatever they'd been jointly sculling.
toji makes a big song and dance of them playing fairly, then the sea of people erupt when shoko throws scissors, and yuki, paper.
"oh no, i lost." yuki fake pouts, climbing up onto the table without shame, propping herself back on her elbows, and tipping her head to the side to bare her slender neck.
shoko smiles sweetly as she leans over her girl, rolling her shoulders once like she’s preparing for surgery, you couldn't deny that this was very attractive.
toji pours carefully into the hollowed out skin of yuki’s collarbone, the liquor catching in the dip of her skin. a few drops spill down into the cleavage of her breasts, and someone in the crowd groans at the sight. promptly followed by a middle finger thrown over shoko's shoulder.
the brunette doesn’t mess around, she bends down and takes the shot in one gulp, her hands braced beside yuki’s shoulder. the room goes mental with people howling and stomping as she draws it out by sucking seductively at her neck.
yuki grabs at shoko’s hair, laughing, and the cheering only gets louder when shoko finally stands up wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
you’re clapping with everyone else all tipsy with your thoughts slightly out of order.
but something keeps snagging at your mental.
toru never claimed his kiss, did he?
he won fair and square. he could have taken it right there in front of everyone, but instead, he let sato pull you away and gossip about starting this game up with toji.
your eyes drift between them now, watching the way they stand shoulder to shoulder, murmuring to each other with big grins while the next few volunteers shout to take their turn.
toji waves them off after another quick round. “alright, alright. next pair!”
but your brain clicks onto their mischievous looks a second too late.
because now the boys' hands are pushing at your waist then at your back as they steer you forward through the crowd.
sato's got a playful grip on your arm as he guides you toward the table lightly. conversations flatten as people notice the three of you stepping up to the table, and someone whistles when they get a proper look at you under the kitchen light. someone else nudges a friend and points, already stirring things up. "she's a looker." they exclaim.
toji clocks it and chuckles, he’s just been handed the best play toy in the house, after all. sukuna's cute little ex. now, as much as he liked the guy, even an asshole like toji knew ryomen needed a little wake up call, and he was more than happy to help those idiot twins show him up when they'd asked earlier.
“alright,” he calls out, waving his cup in the air, “we got a new round.”
you watch as the people push closer and become more intrigued, more commotion than before. normally this was done with two people, not three, so everyone's two cents was stacking up until there were dollars of noise filling the room.
sukuna’s head whips over from his spot on the outskirts, and his cocky laughter dies. he freezes so stiffly at the sight of you about to 'volunteer' it’s almost funny, his brain needs a second to catch up to what he’s seeing.
you. here. between the twins of all people?
your chest thumps with adrenaline, but you force yourself to keep your eyes from switching to that disgusting pest.
sato steps right in front of you for a second, his big, broad frame blocking your sight so you face him instead of the man burning a hole into you from across the kitchen, while toru laughs from your other side. "aww look who's watching, let's give him a show, yeah?"
two of sato’s fingers brush your chin, pushing so you're looking up at him with that beautiful expression. “trust us,” he smiles quietly so that only you and toru can hear it. “we’ll be gentle with you, sweetheart. promise.”
toru smiles, winking at you before quickly kissing your forehead.
"i'm assuming you're both throwing to see who takes the shot off her?" toji asks, and the twins nod eagerly in agreement.
toji shakes his head before barking out, “okay then, rock, paper, scissors."
the chant picks up around you, everyone watching as sato and toru hold out their hands, they throw at the same time, and.. they tie.
the crowd react accordingly, and they go again.
another tie.
toru laughs, “fuck it. we both win.”
a swell of noise piles up with people hollering and leaning in to see what happens next. neither twin looks bothered. in fact, they look like they planned it from the beginning with matching smirks slipping across their faces as they turn to you. yeah, they definitely wanted this. both of them on you like some reverse harem bs.
“come here,” sato teases.
they guide you toward the cleared section of the table and you lean back as they direct, hands braced behind you against the surface. you feel so exposed like this with your collarbones tipped toward the ceiling waiting for the liquor.
“tilt your chin up,” toru mutters leaning close so only you can hear him. “js' relax.”
toji trapses towards you with the 1.5L of absolut vodka. you smile when you notice he's being gentler with you than he was with the others, pouring ever so carefully into the hollow of one collarbone, then the other. the chilled liquor makes you jolt, but the twins steady you with their calming palms at your waist.
they both grin at the sight of the alcohol sitting there ready for them to drink. they have to bite their lips in unison to distract from the throbbing hard-ons in both of their pants. shit, you just look so pretty laid out all sweet and ready for them.
the nerdier twin slips his glasses off and shoves them into his jean pocket. sato leans down to your level first, and god if he didn't take his time about it. i mean, sukuna is watching after all. he needed this to be a spectacle.
he gives you the filthiest look before dipping down, and sucking the liquid from your chest. you gasp as he does so, the feeling of his tongue against your skin sends your hand flying into his riddled white locs.
the people are losing it, because sato never does this sort of thing. he’s usually acting better than everyone in the library or turning his nose up at jocks in the quad, not taking body shots off of hot girls in crowded kitchens at parties like these.
as sato's halfway through his very public little display, toru decides he's done waiting and that he'd like to join in on all the fun.
with his pretty eyes flicking up once to make sure sukuna is still staring, the playboy bends down to your other collarbone and drinks from you too, far, far slower than necessary. his big hand sliding from your waist to your hip to keep you in place.
sukuna looks absolutely fucking murderous.
he watches it all play out with the most feral, pathetic, jealous look on his once smug face.
and to add insult to injury, the twins go further.
they don’t pull off if you when they're done, oh no. sato’s hands push you down when you try to sit up, you giggle in reply while torus mouth sucks higher up your neck than necessary after the liquor is gone.
you did owe him a kiss, after all, and they made sure to make a big show of it.
sukuna sees nothing but red, fiery fury, and the twins know he’s watching.
they lift their heads so horribly slow, sato wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb while toru lets his tongue drag across his lower lip.
they look at you first, making sure you’re okay. hm, flushed as hell, but fine. they think in unison.
then, they both turn their heads,
and their eyes lock with sukuna’s.
and they give him the biggest, cockiest, shit eating smirks they'd ever given anyone in their entire lives.
ours now. they mouth.
A/N: i'm sorry i haven't posted in like a week and a half ik i suck throw tomatoes at meuhhhhh
