just reading....

23 dark kink!!! dead dove do not eat i warned you

[gojofucker7]

archive of fan fiction i read and like. mostly gojo satoru fics. favorites are tagged under #FAV.

PRO-SHIPPER ACCOUNT

cw: smut, age gap, teacher/student relationship, incest, infidelity.

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[kuryomi]

꒰ྀི take a pic !

synopsis: photobooth with your boyfriend gojo satoru! fluff, 0.3k, gn!reader, reader sits on satoru’s lap, art credits hunnismoker, dividers pixopix

“this place is way too small, baby.” satoru said through a laugh, knees bending slightly to fit in the booth comfortably.

it was a comical sight seeing your six foot something tall boyfriend in the tiny photobooth, barely able to sit on the small stool comfortably.

“there’s no way we’re both fitting on that.” you giggled, fixing your hair a little in the small mirror provided.

satoru wordlessly pat his lap, encouraging you to sit while wiggling his eyebrows playfully. you laughed, playfully nudging his shoulder before taking a seat, smiling at his how his arms instantly enclosed around your waist comfortably.

your fingers tapped on the screen, choosing the layout you wanted for the strips. your hands reached for your purse to pay but your boyfriend quickly scanned his card against the reader before you could.

the screen started to count down, a message popping up saying that pictures would be taken every seven seconds. you smiled for the first picture, putting your face near satoru’s while your hand came up to cup his cheek.

for the second picture satoru kissed your cheek, continuing to kiss it for the majority of the seven second break until you giggled and told him to stop before the third picture. for the third he simply tilted your chin toward him, kissing you while the flash went off.

for the fourth, satoru arms wrapped around your shoulders, his chin resting on your head while you both smiled as the final picture was taken.

as the pictures printed, you could feel satoru’s eyes on you. when you looked back at him, he had a goofy grin on his face.

“what?” you asked him through giggles, handing him one of the two photo strips.

“nothing,” satoru shook his head, kissing the top of your head again while looking at the pictures, “just can’t wait to show these to our kids.”

a/n: trying to change up my layout because it’s so hard trying to find cute manga panels now 😞 but wow two posts in a week #proud of myself

[6x-x9]

“𝒴𝐨𝐮’𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞” · 𝒢.𝑺𝑨𝑻𝑶𝑹𝑼 ·

𝚂𝙰𝚃𝙾𝚁𝚄 tries dating someone new to distract himself. It lasts less than two days. 𖹭

𝑭𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇. ꒰ 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ⋮⋮ canon jjk ꒱

It’s Shoko who calls you first.

The phone buzzes against the kitchen counter while you’re staring at a half-eaten bowl of cereal gone soggy. You almost ignore it. Almost, but habit wins, and you do pick up.

"He's being weird,” she says, biting off a yawn, cigarette smoke curling lazily from her lips. “Weirder than usual. He brought some girl to dinner last night.”

You blink. “Oh.”

The word comes out small. Flat. Like it doesn’t belong in your mouth.

“She laughed like a goose and called him ‘Toru-bear’ and wore a shirt that said ‘Boss Babe.’” Shoko pauses. “You, understandably, weren’t there. So I had to suffer alone.”

“Sorry.” You almost sounded sincere.

“Don’t apologize. He should be apologizing. It was pitiful.”

You try not to let it get to you. You try not to think about how it felt, because just three nights ago, when he kissed you so soft and said, “You make everything quiet,” like it was a confession, like it hurt to say it, when the words left his lips...

And, now he’s… dating?

Trying?

Moving on?

Your chest aches, but you smile through it. “Maybe he just needs to figure some stuff out.”

Shoko exhales. “You’ve ruined him. You know that, right?”

You laugh. It sounds brittle and slightly amused. “I don’t think I’m that powerful.”

“You are,” she says dryly. “I watched this man— this man who used to brag about how hot girls lined up for him after missions— literally panic when his dinner date tried to kiss him.”

Your heart flips. “What?”

“He flinched,” she confirms. “Like, full-body jolted. Said, and I quote, ‘Sorry, I’m just not used to someone else’s face being that close. It feels wrong.’”

You’re stunned into silence.

Then: “He said it felt wrong?”

“Mhm.” A long pause fills the space for a moment. “And then he left. Mid-date. Suguru watched him walk outside and immediately call your number. You didn’t answer, did you?”

You hadn’t.

You’d seen his name light up your screen and tucked your phone under your pillow, heart hammering, unsure what you were even to him now.

That night, he left you a voicemail.

You hadn’t listened to it.

Not until now.

You pull it up after exchanging goodbyes with Shoko. Hands trembling, and you press play.

“Hey,” his voice murmurs. There’s a sharp exhale. “I know you probably don’t wanna talk to me. That’s fair.”

Theres a second of silence...

“I thought… maybe I needed to know what it would be like. To be with someone who isn’t you. To see if I could want something else. And I can’t.”

He laughs, soft and its self-deprecating.

“I couldn’t even hold her hand without thinking about the way you tuck yours under mine like it’s automatic. Couldn’t sit across from her without hearing your voice in my head telling me to chew slower because I eat like a gremlin.”

You close your eyes, breath shallow.

“You’ve ruined me, sweetheart,” he whispers .“And I think I’d let you do it a thousand times over.”

The message fizzles out to an abrupt end.

You stand there in the quiet kitchen, phone still pressed to your ear like the sound of him might come back if you just wait long enough.

Your pulse is loud in your throat.

You don’t think— you just go.

Keys. Shoes. The door slamming behind you hard enough that the frame rattles.

The night air hits your face. Cool and sharp because it's 10pm and you're running. You don’t remember deciding to run but your feet are already moving, pavement blurring under you, streetlights smearing gold across your vision.

Every step feels like it’s carving something open in your chest.

Three nights ago his mouth had been so careful against yours. Three nights ago he’d breathed against your temple like the whole world had gone soft just for the two of you. Three nights ago he’d looked at you like you were the only solid thing left.

And then he’d tried to date someone else.

Tried.

Failed so completely that Shoko called it pitiful.

You don’t slow down until you’re outside his building. The code for the gate is still muscle memory. The stairs take forever and no time at all.

You reach his door.

Knock once.

Twice.

The lock clicks.

He opens the door looking like a kicked puppy— eyes wide, hoodie sleeves too long, heart cracked open.

For a second, neither of you moves.

Then you don’t say a word— just throw your arms around him and bury your face in his chest.

He holds you like he never wants to let go again.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes. “I’m so— sorry.”

“I’m not,” you whisper back.

You lean up.

Kiss him like he’s the only person in the world worth knowing.

Like he belongs to you.

Because he does.

His mouth is warm and a little desperate under yours. One of his hands slides up into your hair, the other locking around your waist like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he loosens his grip even a fraction.

You feel the way his chest rises and falls too fast against yours. You feel the tiny tremor in his fingers.

When you finally pull back just enough to breathe, his forehead rests against yours.

“I hated it,” he says, voice low and rough. “Every second of it. She kept talking and all I could hear was you. She touched my arm and it felt like static. Wrong frequency. Wrong everything.”

You don’t answer with words. You just kiss him again, slower this time, tasting the apology still sitting on his tongue.

He walks you backward into the apartment without breaking the kiss. The door clicks shut behind you. Somewhere a lamp is on, casting soft gold across the floor. His place smells like the laundry detergent he always uses and the faint citrus of the cleaner he pretends he doesn’t buy just because you once said you liked it.

He presses you gently against the wall by the entryway. Not hard. Just enough that you can feel how solid he is, how carefully he’s holding himself back.

“I kept thinking about the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention,” he murmurs against your mouth. “Like I’m something worth keeping. She looked at me like I was a prize she’d already won. I couldn’t stand it.”

Your hands fist in the front of his hoodie. The fabric is soft from too many washes. You know every loose thread.

“I shouldn’t have gone,” he says. “I knew the second I sat down across from her that I’d made a mistake. But I stayed. Like an idiot. Like maybe if I just forced it hard enough it would start feeling right.”

You tip your head so your lips brush the corner of his jaw. “Did it?”

“Not even close.”

He kisses you again, deeper, and you let him. Let the heat of it pull everything else out of focus until there’s only the two of you and the quiet apartment and the way his body fits against yours like it was designed for exactly this.

When he finally draws back there’s a flush high on his cheeks. His eyes are bright in a way that has nothing to do with residual cursed energy and everything to do with you.

“Stay,” he says. Not a question.

You nod.

He takes your hand the way he always does, fingers sliding between yours like they belong there and leads you further inside.

The couch is still a mess of throw pillows from the last time you were here. One of your hair ties sits on the coffee table. Evidence of a life that never quite stopped belonging to both of you even when you tried to pretend otherwise.

He sits first and pulls you into his lap without ceremony. You go willingly, knees bracketing his hips, arms looping around his neck.

For a long moment you just look at each other.

Then he starts talking again, quieter, like the words have been waiting behind his teeth for days.

“She ordered something with cilantro and I almost told her you hate cilantro. Almost said it out loud. Like my mouth forgot who I was sitting with.”

You brush a strand of white hair off his forehead. “You left mid-date.”

“Yeah.” A short, self-conscious laugh. “Suguru gave me the look. You know the one. The ‘you’re an idiot and I love you but also please stop’ look. I walked outside and called you before I even thought about it. Needed to hear your voice. Needed to know you still existed in the same world as me.”

You remember the way your phone had lit up. The way you’d shoved it under the pillow like that could protect either of you from whatever this was becoming.

“I listened to the voicemail,” you tell him.

His arms tighten around you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Silence settles for a few heartbeats. Comfortable. Heavy with everything neither of you has said yet.

Then he leans in and presses a kiss to the side of your neck, soft and lingering.

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to say it properly,” he murmurs against your skin. “That you’re it for me. That nothing else even comes close. That I tried to prove myself wrong and only proved the opposite.”

You tilt your head to give him more room. His mouth follows the line of your throat with careful, deliberate attention.

“You don’t have to figure it out,” you say. “Just keep showing up.”

He pulls back enough to meet your eyes. There’s something open and a little raw in his expression.

“I will. Every time. Even when I’m being an idiot about it.”

You kiss him for that. Slow. Thorough. The kind of kiss that says you already knew and you’re still choosing him anyway.

His hands slide under the hem of your shirt, palms warm against your waist. Not demanding. Just anchoring you to the present.

You feel the way his breathing changes when your fingers find the nape of his neck and scratch lightly the way he likes.

“Stay the night,” he says again, quieter this time. Almost a plea.

“I’m already here.”

He smiles against your mouth. The real one. The one that softens everything about him until he looks almost young again.

“Good.”

Later, when the apartment has gone fully dark except for the city glow through the windows, you end up tangled together on the couch under a blanket that smells like both of you. His heartbeat is steady under your ear. One of his hands keeps tracing idle patterns along your spine like he can’t quite stop touching you now that you’re close again.

“Shoko’s going to give me so much shit for this,” he says eventually, voice drowsy.

You huff a quiet laugh. “She already did. Called the whole thing pitiful.”

“She’s not wrong.”

You press a kiss to the center of his chest through the soft fabric of his hoodie.

“I don’t care if it was pitiful,” you tell him. “I’m glad you figured it out.”

His arms tighten around you one more time.

“Me too,” he whispers. “God. Me too.”

Outside, the city keeps moving. Inside, everything is quiet the way it only ever is when it’s the two of you.

And for the first time in days, it feels like enough.

[aidarall]

Out of Touch

: You’re out of touch, he’s out of time.

Gojo Satoru x gn!reader

| A Sorcery AU Oneshot ♬: Out of Touch - Daryl Hall & John Oates / Reflections - The Neighbourhood (I don’t support them)

wc: 2.0k

tags: Unestablished relationship, small angst, hurt/comfort, reader has a C.T similar to Midas' touch (but everything you touch loses life by the minute), pining ragebaiter Gojo, more on dialogues hehe, (and for reference: reader’s fingertips are like the scarlet witch’s, look it up it's so cool)

a/n: before you say it, YES this is akiangel inspired. So sorry it’s short :(( fuck school like I genuinely have 2 reports due rn LOLLL

“So uhm, that basically summarizes the whole topic. Don’t forget to finish your report—again, Yuji. Friday. Is. The. Due. Date. Does anybody have more questions before I go?”

Awkward silence fills the room.

“Alright, that’s it- listen, can anyone here just address the elephant in the room?”

“...”

“One…”

“...psssst- hey!”

“Two..”

“Just do it Itadori!” a certain brown-haired girl insisted.

“W-why do I have to be the one to say it?!?!?!” he hissed.

“Because you’re already so dense that sensei won’t even wonder why!”

The only thing Megumi could do at this moment was to nod in agreement. Whether he likes to admit it or not, he’s actually a bit scared of you—purely out of respect, of course.

“Three.”

“Fuck! Fine-”

“SENSEI!”

You knew it was coming.

“Yes, Yuji?”

“Fuck! Wait, maybe I shouldn’t-” he thought. But that thought quickly washed away as he saw Nobara’s horrifying death glare.

“Uhhh.. sensei, uhm- before I start, let me just say that THIS WAS A COLLECTIVE IDEA! LIKE- LIKE WEEEEE ALL THOUGHT OF THIS TOGETHERRR!! NOT JUST ME!!!”

“No, Yuji. Before you start, would you stop screaming? I can very much hear you loud and clear.”

“Oops- sorry, sensei. Anyway, uhm… again, we were just wondering if… uhm…”

“Cat got your tongue?” You tease as you cross your arms.

“I hope so! God, this is so hard to say without offending you. Curse you two!”

“Nah you were gonna spit it out anyway-”

“Facts.” Was all Megumi could say at this moment.

“Sensei, we were wondering why you wear gloves all the time…and you’re always covered up from head-to-toe even in this heat!”

Hm, so that’s what this is about.

“It’s because of my technique, you three. There you have it, I’ve answered your questions. Now go!”

“See? I knew it was just about technique. Sensei! Itadori thought you were a robot!”

“SHUT UP KUGISAKI!”

“A robot? Pfft- can a robot do this?” You throw the chalkboard eraser at the top of Yuji’s head.

“OWW-”

“Mhm. That’s not all, he also thought you had no hands at all. Like a ghost.”

“Woww Fushiguro, now you’re talking?!?!?!”

“All of you are so silly. You got Yuji trembling on his knees just because of my gloves?

“Exactly! See? Sensei gets me. Thank you, my humble master.”

“No. I don’t, Yuji. C’mon boy, really? A robot?? Ghost hands???”

“B-b-but!-”

“Ah-ah-ah. No more talking, go. All of you have to train, the 2nd years have been waiting.”

You quickly usher them out, waving your very real hands side to side.

“See ya, kids.” You failed to hear Yuji’s second question. And why are you always away, sensei?

Exhaustion crept over you as you walked to the building where your office was located.

The moment you got inside, you immediately lay on your couch, stretching your limbs as you took a deep breath.

You stare at your gloved hands.

“…My energy”

The peace didn’t last for long, as one of the roots of your stress knocked at your door like some hungry loan shark.

“Haahh… what is it this time, Gojo?” You lazily put an arm over your eyes.

“Open the door so I can tell you!” He eagerly shakes the doorknob.

“It’s not even locked… what are you on bruh...”

“Oh, yeah, that’s- haha! It wasn’t locked”

“Idiot…” You curse under your breath.

He sits in your office chair, acting like he owns the place.

“Get off my chair, you dimbo.”

“So I was thinking we should go to this new pastry shop that just opened last week on 3rd Avenue. I heard they make really good mochi!”

“Did you even hear what I said? Get off my chair, Gojo.”

“So, how does Thursday 7 PM sound?”

“I- what?” Sooooo apparently he has selective hearing now?

“Alright! 7 PM it is.”

“WHO are you talking to???”

“You.”

“No! Because clearly you didn’t hear me and you’re just making up bullshit right now- get off my chair!”

“Ouuu you got some nerve now, huh. Be careful, I might cancel that 7 PM-”

“SATORU GET OFF!”

“Haha you’re so easily pissed!!!” He finally gets off.

“God, you’re so difficult.”

You looked towards his direction and gave him a piercing stare.

Wait.

“Gojo, why are you here?”

“...To invite you.”

“No. You were gonna tell me something else. Come on, spit it out.”

He lightly chuckles. “You and your perceptive ass.”

“I don’t have all day. What is it?”

“Yaga’s sending us on a mission.”

Yes. You knew it. That uneasy expression on his face that he tries so hard to hide by being unserious. The blindfold doesn’t help one bit either.

“Details.”

“...T-Thursday, around- 7 PM” He chokes out.

“...”

“So you were expecting that 7 PM pastry date??? Aww don’t be so disappointed, we can reschedule!”

“What’s your issue? I don’t care about your pastry shit. And stop with the 7 PM thing it’s getting annoying! Just tell me the information fuck.”

“Alright okay, supposedly- there’s been biiig curses roaming around Okutama Ropeway. Give or take 6 days before it reaches the residential area: one special grade and two grade ones. Don’t worry. I’ll handle the big potato stuff, and you handle the small potatoes.”

“You’re such a child…”

-

The night of the mission came. Both of you stood in front of the said location. The ruins stood against the frost-bitten, eerie breeze, carrying the heavy scent of dead earth and filthy curses.

“Did we really have to do this at night?” You complained.

“Yeah, duh, it sets the mood alright.”

“Are you serious?”

“What’re you, scared?”

“No what the fuck.”

“No what the fuck~” He mocked.

“Let’s just- get it over with.” You can’t afford to waste more time on him.

Stepping ahead of him, you started to walk—taking a deep sigh, preparing yourself for the suffocating sensation that comes with the absorption of curses.

Using your teeth, you swiftly pulled off your gloves from your middle finger—exposing your jet-black fingertips.

“Careful, it’s really hot when you do that.”

“Quit it. Let’s split.”

“Copy that, boss!” He teleports to where that “big potato” curse is.

You hate to admit it, but now that you’re walking alone—the atmosphere feels more intolerable.

Filthy curses.

The moment you heard some distorted ruffling in the woods along with the echoing guttural and gurgling noises that came from the two fuckers, you knew it was go-time.

You rushed towards them.

“There you are.” You taunt.

Your lungs burned, running on pure adrenaline. Two grade ones, huh. You were able to duck under the first curse’s razor-sharp attack, but the second caught one caught you—side-swiping your ribs, sending you tumbling across the slick cobblestones. Motherfuckers.

Too slow, you thought, pushing yourself up with trembling arms. A few more seconds without energy, and you’d be a corpse.

Enough. You have to lock in.

The bladed curse lunged again, screeching. This time, you didn't dodge away, you leaned into the strike. The blade hit deep into your shoulder, pain flaring white-hot, but it gave you exactly what you needed: proximity.

You jammed your palm straight onto the curse’s chest, fingers sinking into its icy, writhing flesh.

“Mine,” you rasped.

The siphoning was immediate and violent. The curse’s screeches warped into a muffled, hollow gag as decades of stolen life flared up your arm like venom. Under your palm, the creature’s skin shriveled, turning into a brittle, blackened husk before crumbling into fine jet-black ash.

You were feral now, it’s been a while since you were assigned to a mission as thrilling as this, let alone absorb this much energy.

Color flushed back into your cheeks, energy rushing up to your neck, heartbeat hammering like a war drum—eyes dangerously dilated. You simply ignored the agony seeping into your shoulder that dulled to a faint throb. You stood upright, exhaling a plume of heat as you pulled the blade out of your shoulder—taking your jacket off after, leaving you in a bare tank top.

The second curse froze, its multi-eyed face twisting in sudden, primal terror as you turned to face it, eyes glowing with its partner's stolen life.

“You can see it, right? My technique?” You wiped a line of blood from your lip, eyes locking onto the remaining curse. “You’re wondering why I just turned your friend into dust. Don’t worry, you’ll join him soon.”

You raised your palms, a faint violet hum flickering across your knuckles.

“The moment my hands lock onto you, I forcibly steal the remaining lifespan holding your form together. I consume the time you have left and turn it into fuel. And I’ve been running low these past few days. I need you.”

[ CURSED TECHNIQUE: LIFE ABSORPTION ]

Unlike standard sorcerers who generate Cursed Energy from negative emotions, this sorcerer's innate engine operates on an absolute deficit.

By making direct contact with a target’s vital core, Life Absorption involuntarily forces the target's remaining lifespan into rapid decay. The erased time is immediately converted into high-density Cursed Energy, surging into the body at a 1:1 conversion rate ratio.

However, this technique carries two fatal flaws: One, Excess energy cannot be stored. The sorcerer’s body burns through consumed life-force at triple the normal rate to maintain peak output. To fight, the sorcerer must continuously devour to prevent the consequences of drying up completely. Two, The technique is not limited to curses. Anyone who makes flesh-to-flesh contact with the sorcerer is at risk of draining their lifespan by the minute.

You leap towards the grimy curse who’s practically running now.

Slap!

The curse didn’t have time to screech. Its skin shriveled, crumbling into fine ash just like how his partner did.

“Finally.”

“Gojo! I’m done with your small potato shit.” You call out.

Silence.

“C’mon I wanna go home. You’re taking too long. Wait- don’t tell me you need help there…”

God, why is it so silent? Something feels wrong.

Suddenly, something warm wrapped around your shoulder—teleporting you to another hill.

No. Wait- this couldn’t be-

“Gojo! What the fuck are you doing- you! GET OFF ME!” You panic.

Then, something happened. The entire Okutama Ropeway was blasted—reduced to mere smoke and ashes.

Purple. He used purple.

You could barely hear how heavy your breathing was because of how loud the explosion is.

“Gojo- GET OFF ME, YOU’LL DIE!”

“No.”

“YOU CRAZY!-”

“I like holding you like this. I don’t want to die old anyway. I’d rather use my remaining years holding you.” He wraps his arms around your shoulder, hugging you from the back while he nuzzles his head into your neck.

Somehow, his words comforted you instead of making you angry. How long has it been since someone touched you? You didn’t realize how touch-starved you were. This is bad. This is very bad.

“Gojo, stop holding me. I’m serious.” Melancholic eyes gazed below the destruction, letting the rushing air comb through your hair.

“I already told you-”

“Because if you keep on holding me like that I’ll start wanting it more.”

Oh. “Is that so?”

“Yes. Now get off.”

He does as you say.

“You know, if you just agree to be with me, you won’t have to leave and scavenge for curses as often just to maintain your cursed energy.” He faces you, pale sapphire irises glistening in the moonlight.

“...Are you saying that you’re willing to get killed? And where’s your infinity? Gojo, turn it on i’m not joking around.”

“I’m telling you. I’ll do anything- lock up curses in a dungeon for you to feed on. Just stay. Stop leaving. The kids like your company more than you think.” He’s asking- no, pleading. He’s pleading now.

“And…why should I use you like that?”

“Because I want you to. Okay? Please? Just give me a chance.”

A moment passed, you gave it some thought.

“...Make sure the dungeon is big.”

He couldn’t believe it. Was this really happening?

“You’re saying you’ll stay?!?!?!”

“Hurry before I take it back.”

The words took a moment to settle into his mind. A chance. After months of watching you from the sidelines, suffocating on unspoken feelings, he was finally being invited in. You let him in. It felt too big to hold, a dizzying surge of relief that left him completely speechless.

“In one condition, of course.”

Fuck! Of course this was all under a condition. He gulps.

“W-what is it?”

“You keep your infinity on. Always. 24/7. You hear me?”

“...Aye, aye, Captain!”

Oh, he’s sooo ready to break that rule.

dividers: by suupersonic

a/n: did u get the spiderman bnd small and big potato reference?? LOL and not reader lowk being a vampire…

[gojofucker7]

wait this is so cool

[sc6ro]

boxer!sukuna x medic!reader hcs ♡

boxer!sukuna who doesn’t actively try to get seriously injured—he's too proud a fighter for that—but if a punch slips through his guard, he doesn't care. his first thought isn't about the scorecard; it's about the fact that you'll be the one cleaning it up later in the quiet of the locker room.

boxer!sukunawhos eyes always track back to your spot at the ringside corner between rounds. just seeing you standing there holding the medical kit settles his adrenaline more than any pep talk.

boxer!sukuna who has a habit of exaggerating how much a minor scratch stings just to see the worried crease appear between your eyebrows. the second you start lecturing him about his reckless defense, satisfied smirk washes over his face.

boxer!sukuna who absolutely refuses to let any other medic or trainer touch him. if an assistant tries to hand him an ice pack or look at a cut, he glares them down until they back off, waiting patiently until you step in and take over.

boxer!sukuna who finds your medical routine completely fascinating. even if he acts bored while you explain the recovery protocol or how long he needs to keep the bandages on, he’s actually soaking in every single word just because he likes the sound of your voice when you're focused entirely on him.

boxer!sukuna who dosen't let his coaches touch his hands before a match. instead, he sits completely still on the training table, his massive frame hunched over as you wrap his knuckles. he uses that time to complain about the opponent just to keep you talking, but really, he just likes how steady and calm your hands are compared to the chaos of the arena.

boxer!sukuna who constantly "forgets" his hoodies or training jackets in the medical room, knowing you’ll end up putting them aside for him. when you wear one of his oversized team zip-ups because the clinic AC is freezing, he pretends to look annoyed but secretly spends the whole day looking smug about it.

boxer!sukunawho doesn't care about the after-parties or the media cameras. the moment the referee raises his hand in the ring, his very next move is to look directly over the ropes to find you. he’ll give you a quick nod, letting you know that the first thing he wants to do is get back to the quiet of the locker room with you.

the physical pain of the ring was nothing compared to the quiet thrill of having your undivided attention. to sukuna, the bruises and cuts were just a small price to pay for these rare, silent moments in the locker room where the rest of the world completely drifted away.

as your fingers would gently pat down the edge of the final bandage, he'd lean into your touch just a fraction more, his dark eyes never leaving your face. you'd let out a soft, defeated sigh, your hands lingering on his shoulders for a second longer than necessary. the sharp lecture you had prepared about his reckless defense would dissolve into the quiet space between you, replaced by the realization that as long as he kept stepping into that ring, you would always be the one waiting here to fix him up. <3

[yumesafespades]

Nobody’s Love

The three times you’re set aside by your crushes and the one time they spend their life all fighting for you.

<prev> Chapter 2 <next>

Ft. (Reverse-Harem) Gojo Satoru x Reader, Nanami Kento x Reader, Ryomen Sukuna x Reader.

Abstract: You’re the twin sister to one Geto Aimi and the younger sister to Geto Suguru. It doesn’t get any worse than being the middle child, but you’re also in the shadow of your twin. You’re constantly outshined by her genius talent and ability to charm anyone she comes across. There’s little effort in the way she attracts romantic, platonic and even familial love. In comparison, you’re plain, too awkward, and too introverted.

Content: Extreme groveling, jealousy, envy, regret, unrequited love/crush, avoidant attachment style, Suguru is lowkey a bad brother, the other three get their fair share of being the worst, requited love/crush but only when it’s lowkey too late, yearning on another level, the three of them are all down bad, I lowkenuinely think they all deserve a chance.

Smut tags: TBA

wc. 9.5K

A/n: Thank you so much to everyone for waiting! I momentarily was stuck writing this portion of the story but was able to power through it because of everyone’s support for wanting to see this story continued! This is not the end, there will be more! Btw I did not beta read.

You find yourself with Sukuna’s takeout on the table, Nanami’s gift in the shoe area of your duplex, and thankfully nothing of Satoru’s. You were hoping to have a relaxing night for yourself… after the aftermath of the great breakdown of your 21st birthday… whatever.

You can still have a relaxing night, take a shower, maybe even masturbate before then and then feel refreshed right after. Put on a drama you’ve been wanting to start, where the male lead actually pursues and cherishes his female lead. Where she doesn’t have to chase after people who don’t want her.

You very much felt like a male lead.

Always chasing after people who didn’t want you in hopes they would eventually want you. Right. You’re resilient, not delusional.

But why now? You’re retracing your steps, walking through what could have led up to this. The only thing that can be said is when you crashed out at your (and Aimi’s) 21st birthday party.

But let’s take it back to when you first got the duplex. Before you found the three stooges at your doorstep.

You had first gotten the duplex and managed to make it liveable by moving all your current furniture (bedroom stuff only) and settled on making something for lunch.

Your phone screeches in a series of high pitched repeating rings, flinching at the sound. You know that ringtone, set specifically for your parents—both mom and dad so you don’t know which one’s which—you pick up your face down phone immediately, not bothering to check the name of the caller.

50-50, it’s either going to be mom or dad. You’ll take the gamble on it being your dad. At least you hope it’s him.

“Hello?”

“Happy late 21st! Why do I hear that you upset Aimi?”

Dammit it’s mom.

“You’re three months late, and me and Aimi don’t get along anymore.”

“She’s your baby sister.” She continues.

“By 10 minutes.” You groan, moving over to the couch and slouching onto the cushions.

“You both aren’t on speaking terms. Why? Is it because of the gifts we sent? Did we mix up yours and Aimi’s?”

“No, mom. Your gifts for us didn’t arrive yet. They’ll come in next week.”

“A shame. If you don’t talk to your sister by then you both won’t be able to exchange the gifts because I really do think me and your father mixed them up.”

“I’ll live. She can have them both.” You damn near snap to her. But your mom ignores the tone indication for something else.

“And I hear you moved out into a duplex. From the mansion? The mini-mansion’s big enough so that the three of you can go day to day without bumping into each other.” Your mom scoffs, affronted with the stark change in your living standards.

“Being in a different zip code isn’t far enough. If I had the capabilities I would’ve moved to Shanghai, I hear they have nice high rises.” You roll your eyes.

“Honey, we already went to Shanghai. The only thing that’s good there is the fashion and the beauty. Oh they have beautiful men—your father and I just visited last week..” She’s gone onto a long winded ramble about the overseas adventures her and your father have.

“… why aren’t you talking to Suguru either? He’s your big brother. You can’t be left alone for too long, go and be a brat at home. I can’t believe you’d go and buy a duplex, the least you can do is—“ the conversation finally picks up on something you think is worth commenting about.

“No. I used this money out of my allowance and I refuse for any of you to guilt trip me into going back home and feeling bad for using it on real estate!” At this point you’re huffing, catching your breath. “Didn’t you and dad tell us to get started on our investment portfolios?”

“For stocks honey, stocks! Not real estate!”

“Whatever. If Suguru made you call me then tell him he can come see me himself if he gives that much of a damn.”

“Don’t talk—“ You end the call on your mom there, and find the mute button to her icon on the messaging app on your phone. She’s going to lecture you on being more respectful of your brother and stop feeling or being petty to Aimi.

Your phone pings again. You expect it to be your dad messaging you after the argument with your mom but instead find it’s Suguru.

Suguru: How is settling in?

Is that all he has to say?

You moved into the duplex just three months after finalizing everything after your (and Aimi’s) 21st birthdays. You decided on it after… well…

Suguru only started messaging you daily since you moved out. Simple things: How is your day?; did you eat something?; what did you eat today?; how are you holding up? And how are you settling in?

He’s asked that one like 3 different times. You haven’t responded to him, but you do make sure to let him know you’ve read his messages. It honestly makes you uncomfortable; you are hyper aware of how much he’s trying to care for you now. After the birthday incident and all.

However, right now you wish to be alone. To spread your wings and pursue your passions and dreams without judgement.

You don’t know what you’re going to do about the second half of the duplex but you plan to rent it out and earn passive income that way (even if you managed to purchase this property in full). You still want to have a safety net.

You also wanted to get away from everyone. Fully disembark from your brother and sister’s social circles to discover yourself.

Yet you found yourself here, with three men at your door and nonetheless not exactly where you started but fearing you’ll be pulled back into the fray.

~*~

4 months ago was when yours and Aimi’s 21st birthday came around. Your parents weren’t going to be there at the time and so it was just you, Suguru, and Aimi… and all of their friends. You effectively had none so nothing for you to worry about.

Because it was your 21st, Aimi wanted a large party thrown. Pink and black themed—she had initially said she was going to be wearing all pink, making you wear all black but you refuted that—the both of you wearing a pink and black themed outfit.

Of course Aimi refuted a bit more after your concerns but she eventually gave in when Suguru came around to appease her. Driving her focus onto the cake you both agreed on would be a raspberry-strawberry mixture with cacao; thankfully that aspect was easily solvable.

But that didn’t stop from more hiccups from darkening your mood—and eventually ruining your 21st—through the process, Sukuna and Satoru were more than willing to help with setting up the party.

“Hell no, balloons should not be the main decoration. Are you two? Is Aimi twelve? The hell.” Sukuna’s snarl could be heard from upstairs. You can just imagine the scowling of his face and the gentle scrunch of those inked out tattoos.

“I’ve known Aimi since she was twelve, mind you. The pink balloons aren’t just any regular balloons.” You can just see it now, Satoru slapping the uninflated balloons at Sukuna’s chest as emphasis. “They’re metallic. Some of them are see-through and have special confetti inside the balloon that’s black. It fits the theme!”

“Balloons are basic as shit!”

“Oh yeah smarty ass pants?” Satoru challenges. “You got anything better? I think your nasty cigarette smoke rotted your brain.”

“I don’t want to hear about my brain being rotted when you consume more sugar than the recommended average.”

“Guys!” Aimi, light of their life. The sun to Suguru’s moon. Ever so shining, breaches their path and rewards them with her presence. “Why are you arguing? I’m trying to figure out how I want to do my hair! And I can't hear Clairo or Laufey over your shouting!”

She’s strutted down the stairs with her hair half up, half down in space buns with the most beautiful curls. You can tell it’s still unfinished with the chunky pins in her hair that are clamping the curls in place but to the two of them, she’s the most exquisite thing to ever walk planet Satoru and planet Sukuna.

“He’s a basic bitch that just wants to put balloons everywhere.” Sukuna points at Satoru.

“He’s a mean little freak that thinks his idea is so much better just because it’s different.”

“No—“

“Okay, show me the balloons.” Aimi takes a manicured finger and curls it her way multiple times while her arms are folded over her chests.

Satoru, in Satoru-fashion, holds the balloon in front of him by its tied tip and rotates it with the twist of his wrist. The other hand embellishes the rotation of the balloon with a curved set of fingers effortlessly showing off the shape and detail of the balloon.

“I like them. Now what about you, Suku?” Her eyes shift towards Sukuna. He teeters slightly on both feet before bringing out a lantern, its paper body a pastel pink with black adorned bows along its structural wires.

“Both. I want both.”

“Both?!” Satoru and Sukuna repeat at the same time.

“Yes.”

“BOAF?” Yuuji.

“BOAF!” Nobara.

From the door, Yuuji and Nobara are the first to embrace Aimi. The both of them overtly pulling their faces away from Aimi’s head so as to not crumple her curls. When Yuuji pulls away first he gives a nod into your direction, then turns to Sukuna to chatter. While Nobara keeps both hands on Aimi’s shoulders, looking down at her with an extreme reverence.

“Happy birthday girl! You look so gorgeous. Wait—you haven’t done your makeup yet.” Nobara leans closer.

From behind Nobara; Maki, Yuta, Toge, and Panda have swarmed around her. Aimi’s smile deepens when she pulls Nobara’s hands off her shoulders to take the others in for a warm hug, shifting her face away to avoid damage to her curls and makeup.

“That’s because I was waiting for you to come, silly! I want your help with my makeup and my gem placement. I’m trying to do my eyeliner and eyeshadow to look like a butterfly but if I want gems then where should I put them?”

Nobara’s eyes glisten with the warmth of the sun while her mouth widens. “Oh my gosh, you have to show me the inspo pics. I can see the vision already. Did you want the liner to be majority black with pink elements or do you think—“

“Hold up, crazy kids.” Suguru intervenes with a clamp onto Aimi’s head, wary of the pins in her hair keeping the curls together. “Don’t mess the place up before we have it finished. Also, don’t let this one go down before we even finish decorating.”

Aimi gives a faux awe and melts into Suguru’s arms with an arm against his waist while she looks up. “But what if I just want a little peek?”

He ‘boops’ her on the nose in return with the tip of his finger. A fond smile taking place. “That would defeat the purpose.”

There’s a subtle ache in your heart that pricks the left side of your jaw when you watch your older brother go through the motions of kissing Aimi on the forehead. Her whines and complaints about him messing up her makeup and hair going to the wind when he lifts and twirls her around.

You decide it’s enough cucking yourself when it comes to family-friends and family. You come down the stairs and ignore the flickering speck of attention you get from everyone else when you make your way to Suguru and Aimi’s side.

“Oh.” Suguru lets out, putting Aimi down and laying his attention onto you. You partly expect him to take you into a warm half hug like with Aimi earlier, maybe a forehead kiss too, or even a simple happy birthday.

Instead, all he does is pat you on the shoulder and pull you into an awkward side hug.

“Go get ready.” The speck of attention you managed to recieve is now spread elsewhere.

“Sukuna and Satoru I’m going to pick up the cake, I don’t want to see the place burnt down if you guys argue.”

“Aye-aye sir.” Satoru’s lips spread into a wide grin when he went into grabbing more uninflated balloons.

Sukuna scowls, following Satoru’s actions. “Hey asshole, she wants both. We need to make it an equal balance.”

The two of them trail off into the party room.

Maki lifts up one of her hands with a larger gift bag and a smaller gift bag. Alongside her, Yuta, Panda, and Toge also have gift bags. “I’ll put these away in the room. We’ll meet you upstairs.”

Nobara is already following Aimi to her room while Yuuji is being pulled away by Sukuna to assist in decoration.

Now it’s just you and Suguru.

“You sure you don’t want to invite any friends?” Suguru turns to you, lips pressed into a tentative grin. No, because you don’t have any.

You smile in the faux way Aimi does, attempting to imitate the playful way she does it. Albeit, the poor man’s version. “No, it’s fine. I have you!”

Since Aimi will be too busy tending to the three million other people she invited, you’ll at least be able to have a speck of Suguru’s attention to yourself.

When you meet Suguru’s gaze, he only gives you a weary smile.

“What?” You try, brazenly throwing him a nod into Aimi’s direction. “You don’t agree? Wouldn’t Aimi be too busy with her friends?”

Suguru only laughs. “I’m sure we’ll have to watch over her in case she gets too drunk.”

“… right.”

“I’m going off to pick up the cake now, when you’re done getting ready, make sure Sukuna and Satoru aren’t fooling around too hard to make sure the decorations get done.”

Huh?

“Wait, but I thought we weren’t supposed to see until they were done.”

Suguru ruffles your hair. “That’s only for Aimi. You’re her older sister so you also have to make sure everything’s in place.”

“… sure, whatever. After you pick up the cake I need you to pick up the flowers I wanted.”

“What are they for again?”

“Me! Duh!” You hope your smile and cheery tone of voice gives off a more joking tone rather than bitchy.

“Okay, tone it down with the attitude, it’s not cute.” Suguru pulls away from you and heads towards the door.

Your heart drops but you fight your microexpressions from showing it. Your cheek muscles stretch in trying to keep up this strained smile when all you want to do is cry.

“Wait, you’ll still grab the flowers will you?”

“I don't know, text me the address you should’ve had them delivered or got them yesterday.”

“I know, I know.” You know you should have, but you didn’t on purpose. “Please Suguru? It’s my birthday, too.”

This will be the last one. The last time.

Suguru huffs, “Okay fine, I’ll grab them.”

“Yay!” You cheer, pulling yourself into Suguru’s side and wrapping your arms around his waist. He pats you on the shoulder and pulls away sooner than what you hoped for.

“Make sure to check on Satoru and Sukuna.”

“Right.”

You’ll do that right now. After you text Suguru the address you walk into the designated party room. It’s barren of everyone except Yuuji, Sukuna, and Satoru.

Satoru spares you a side glance while Sukuna settles on you with a glare that makes its point quite like staring into the pistil of a flower for too long. A particular unsettling sensation comes to you, pricking all over your skull and bringing your elbows closer to your body for warmth.

Before you get to them, Yuuji excuses himself and has enough politeness to give you a small wave before he fully heads out of sight.

They still haven’t looked at you.

“You guys are still deciding on how to decorate the place?”

Now they share a glance at one another. Sukuna wipes the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip, and Satoru is fixated at the blank wall.

“… I think the balloons would look good as an accent to the ribbons.”

Satoru hums as an afterthought to you. “It’s not enough.”

You shift your weight onto one foot. “I have flowers coming in, Suguru’s going to pick them up. When he comes you can use those as decoration.”

Sukuna blinks at you. Once, twice. “We won’t have enough time to consider where they would go after.”

“It’s just some flower garlands. It would be easy to—“

“They don’t have thorns do they?” Satoru inquires.

“No, they’re hanging—I also have some fairy lights. They can hang from the ceiling.”

“We won’t have enough time.”

You sigh through your nostrils and take a deep brea to quell the slowly burning flame in your chest. To emphasize the next words you fold your arms over your rib cage.

“The party starts in a few hours, Suguru will be here in an hour. There will be enough time to set up.” What’s there not to understand?

“Decorations aren’t all we have to do.” Sukuna scoffs, partly huffing through his nose and a disgusted sound coming from his throat.

“Until Suguru comes back you guys can be busy doing other things.”

“So you want us to do everything for you?” Satoru takes a good look at you now, unamused and less than happy.

“H-huh?” You’re so taken aback you take a step backwards and tilt your head. “I’m not asking for a lot. I know you guys are basically doing everything by yourself but I could ask the others to help you.”

“They’re busy with Aimi. She should have all her friends with her—in fact, I should be with her right now. She said she needed help with her makeup right? I know a lot about faces—“ Mid sentence Sukuna knocks Satoru on the back of his head. He keeps his head clamped over his hair and forces his head down.

“If Aimi wants flowers and fairy lights we’ll put flowers and fairy lights.” Sukuna clarifies, giving you that same stare.

“But I’m asking for them?”

“And?”

“It’s my birthday, too. You know that right?”

“Right. I forgot.”

“Me and Aimi are twins.”

“Could’ve fooled me, you both are as different as night and day.”

Oh.

That’s stupid. And right.

“How?” You challenge. You hope you don’t come off as bratty or arrogant but… however bratty or arrogant you act will only be a speck of how bad Aimi is at times.

Satoru loops up, nose tipped into the hair as his eyes settle on the crease of where the wall meets the ceiling. “Aimi has a personality more suitable for people…” he looks down at you, meeting eye to eye. “While…”

His gaze sets aside, looking away then fleeting back to you. “You’re okay with being by yourself!”

Satoru says it cheerily although it’s more… insulting than anything.

“He’s saying you’re personality is shit and Aimi’s more fun to be around.” Sukuna scoffs. “Can’t help it that nobody wants to be around you.”

Satoru snorts and huffs while he turns away. “He said it, I didn’t.”

“I can’t believe you’re the one saying that to me.” You frown, turning Sukuna’s way. The back of his head is faced towards you, he’s not even bothering to look you in the eye. “If it weren’t for my sister then nobody would tolerate you.”

You hope you’re masking your disappointment and sadness well enough. Hoping that whatever you say is coming off more logical and reasonable than a desperate whine of your pain.

“She’s right.” Satoru shrugs, now poking Sukuna in the bicep. “Aimi’s just too nice. There’s no way anyone else would want to be with a brute like you.”

Sukuna grits. “We have the same GPA, and you’re a business major.”

“And who helped you with the physics and anatomy assignment last semester? Me.”

“That doesn’t prove anything when all you do is color in the lines of a presentation.”

“That makes NO sense and obviously is a lie they tell you guys to make you feel superior. If I was a biochemistry major I’d be ruling over your—“

“Am I interrupting something?” Nanami’s holding a white gift wrapped box in one arm and his knuckles hover over the door frame. Still wearing those khaki slacks and blue casual collared shirt.

You don’t know what’s worse. The fact that the big three of your crushes are in the same room or that you know more than half of these gifts are for Aimi, and you’re bracing yourself for the worst birthday in your 21 years of life.

“Why are you late? I’m telling Suguru.” Satoru comes around to pull Nanami into the room.

The both of them walk past you, looking ahead at the decorations littering the space and with no acknowledgment to you. Satoru’s explaining the balloons and fairy lights, and in no way is he leaving room for your flower garlands you embarrassingly begged Suguru to pick up.

Now Nanami is here, perhaps he’ll be more responsible. A voice of logic.

You come up beside them, clearing your throat, hoping they’ll notice you. It’s Nanami that gives you a slight glance from the corner of his eye.

“We need to leave room for flower garlands.”

“Is that something Aimi wished for?” Nanami turns to Satoru, then you.

Before Satoru can even speak, you pop up with “it’s something I want.”

A muscle ticks in Nanami’s jaws. It travels to the crease of his temple then to his eyebrow.

“I understand…” is the only thing he says.

Nanami goes his own way after placing the presents down. This is done much to Satoru’s own dismay as he calls out claiming that he had to help; in a comical manner of which Nanami ignores. You’d almost find it fond of you weren’t simmering down the scent of something burning inside your ribcage.

You’d just have to wait it out. When Suguru comes back with the flower garlands they’ll have no choice but to listen to him when you tell them to hang it up

~*~

You swear everything is on fire or would be on fire if it were smeared in oil and Suguru had laser eyes.

When Suguru comes through the door he’s got his arm full of a tall white box with the three tier cake that the two of you wanted… although Aimi had the first pick of the color and the base decorating. You were happy enough to choose the color of the frosting and the decorations.

You expect to see something else, like a bag hooked around his elbow, or anything else.

Suguru doesn’t bother to acknowledge you when he passes through the frame, beelining towards the room and eyes scanning the area with such fervor contrasting from his usual nonchalance.

When he sets the cake down, that's when he turns around, his sights land onto you, face morphing into something that makes your stomach drop. Satoru, Sukuna, and Nanami nowhere in sight.

“Where are Sukuna and Satoru? I thought Nanami was supposed to come in.”

“They went to Aimi’s room.”

“And you let them?!” Suguru’s voice is more charged than you’d ever heard from him before. Not only is he going to be angry at you but you can feel that you’re going to be scolded later for letting three boys interested in Aimi anywhere near her.

“Aimi’s grown up, and she still has Nobara and the others. It’s not like she’s alone.”

Unlike you.

“Why aren’t the decorations done? I trusted you to look after it.”

You nearly wince. “I wanted to wait so we could have room for my flower garlands.” Your eyes wash over his expression before traveling down to the floor.

“Flowers?”

“Yes, the flowers you were supposed to pick up for me.”

It slowly dawns onto him, eyebrows raising and irises gaining more clarity.

“Oh…” he holds a hand over his mouth. “I was in a rush, the cake was late and I…”

You try not to let it show but you can’t help but let your facade falter just slightly. Something Suguru doesn’t bother to address but walks past, he pats you on the shoulder.

“I’ll make it up to you later. I’m going to get those three back down here to finish up the decorations before we begin the cake. Go ahead and finish getting ready.” He doesn’t even wait for your response.

You’re finding your eyes becoming dry, something prickling and then the welling of liquid pooling in the inner and outer corners.

You use the back of your hand to wipe away the wetness staining your eyes. You’re afraid that it’ll wash away the hard work you’ve done for your makeup and that if you let one tear fall… the rest would be like a broken dam.

~*~

You don’t really compute further than that. You actually go upstairs to finish your hair after sitting and staring at the blank wall for ten minutes. Thinking about everything and nothing; Suguru forgot your flowers, Satoru’s mean words, Sukuna’s blatant dismissal, Nanami ignoring you and his lack of gift for you.

You’re bracing for the fact that you might have no gifts at the table at all. Maybe an envelope.

When you step down the stairs everyone is already there, Nobara gushing with Aimi about her dress or the decorations, whatever it is, they’re excited about it. Shoko and Utahime (your older brother and Satoru’s friends) are here, sharing a glass of punch sparked with some alcohol that you know Suguru ordered off hand.

When your feet reach the main floor level, it’s only Utahime and Shoko that come to greet you with warm smiles.

“Happy birthday. You’ve grown up so much from when I last saw you.” Shoko gives her words to you, tipping the glass to you before taking a sip.

Utahime rubs your shoulder before taking her hand away just as quickly as she placed it. “I hope you’re having a good party. It looks amazing, you and Aimi did a good job.”

You return the words with a half hearted smile, you really hope it doesn’t come off uncanny to the both of them, as these two have been the nicest to you of all Suguru’s friends (he only has a couple). But you can’t bring yourself to lie any longer. The point is to get through the night so you can hide and have a mental breakdown later.

“Thanks, Aimi picked them all. I just agreed to whatever she said.” The only thing you wanted were the flower garlands and fairy lights. You have none.

“Really?” Utahime follows your linear line of conversation. “She’s really talented then. I’ve seen some of the videos Suguru’s taken of her ballet.”

Here we go again.

You maintain that smile. “Yeah! She really is.” She can do it all. Play games, dance, write, draw, capture the love and affection of everything around her.

Where were Suguru’s videos for you when you played the piano?

“How are you doing?” It’s Shoko that catches your attention. “Are you looking forward to anything now that you’re 21?”

Are you?

You’re just going to be in Aimi’s shadow.

Maybe it’s time to move on…

“I’d like to keep playing the piano.” It’s the only thing you say. Your piano hasn’t been touched since six months ago or so, and it’s collecting dust in the other room.

“I didn’t know you played the piano.” Utahime mentions, just to say something. She looks a bit in awe, whether in genuine surprise or appreciation.

“It’s fine. Not a lot of people outside the family know about it. If Suguru doesn’t talk about it then how would you know?” You remark as cheerily as possible, tone kept bright, although the smile on your face is becoming awkward it shifts all the more disheartened by the moment.

Of course Utahime would know about Aimi’s ballet dancing but now about your piano hobby.

You notice it despite how Shoko attempts to hide it, but she sends Utahime a particular look, eyes shifting back from her to you.

Utahime only catches it when you’re both now staring at her.

She laughs awkwardly. “I’ll ask Suguru to show me some videos next time. I would love to see you play.”

If Suguru had any videos. He probably only had a couple of when you were 11, but very often your parents made him skip your piano lessons or recitals because they overlapped with Aimi’s. And being good at ballet was much more impressive than being good at piano.

“Everyone listen up!” Satoru’s voice drags the attention of everyone in the room.

“Satoru!” It’s Aimi’s chiding voice, her tiny hands reaching over to tug lightly at his shirt that rests against his well sculpted chests. “Get down!”

“I wanted to show off a little thing I had made for the twins.”

Twins?

As in Aimi AND you? Not just Aimi?

You can’t hide the subtle brightening of your mood. Even if you’re bracing yourself for disappointment of the bare minimum.

What Satoru pulls up is a slideshow of all the heartfelt memories he had captured over the year on his phone/camera. Just as you expected. The majority is memories of Aimi and Suguru together. When they went to Okinawa when they were 18 and Aimi tagged along. When they went to a cat cafe, Aimi held a kitten that had just scratched Satoru. Even one of just the two of them play fighting in the pool.

Oh look, there’s an obligatory photo with you in there and Aimi. It’s not even a photo Satoru took but one you know your parents did a long time ago that Suguru pulled up for the sake of having a photo of you.

This slideshow is a plain humiliation ritual to disclose to everyone about how much of an unloved loser you are to people within your own family.

You’re too ashamed to meet Shoko and Utahime’s eyes. You’re afraid you may find them pitying you beyond what you’re able to handle right now.

The slideshow is just Aimi featuring you. Hell, Suguru and Satoru have more cameos of each other in there than you do. All the photos you’re in just have Aimi in them! The only consistent thing about this slideshow is just Aimi!

A few photos passing by rile up a few people, Nobara, Yuuji, Panda and Inumaki specifically who all jump around Aimi and fool around with her.

It takes Suguru having to drag everyone’s attention away onto the next birthday event of the night. Cake cutting.

Aimi and you stand side by side while Suguru stands on the other side with the cake cutting knife and a few plates. The entire time it’s been covered by the white box.

But the flavor and decorations (the color, and toppings) are what you’ve been preparing and looking forward to the whole night. These are truly one of the only things you had part of in choosing.

You’ve imagined this since last year, a beautifully intricate mainly pink body with black smeared and blended at some points for color variations. Then black frosting borders the cake with pink edible gems lining the sides.

You’ve imagined it in the sketch you sent to the baker and decorator.

Suguru unveils the cake, pulling it off from overhead and it’s completely different from what you and Aimi discussed.

It’s mainly pink, yeah, but the frosting is white and instead of the edible gems it’s white and light blue flowers. The only remnants you’ve added that were kept are the black smears.

The first thing that crosses your mind is ‘Is Aimi sad about this? How can I make it better?’ But when you angle your face to hers, she’s joined her hands together. Her face is scrunched up in absolute glee and from where you’re standing the candles being lit seem to go in slow motion lighting over the corner of her lips crinkling upwards and the apple of her cheeks popping while her eyes glitter at the sight.

Then another thought betrays you, ‘did Aimi plan this?’

Even Suguru stuttered at the stark difference. He was there when you both talked to the caterer, he made sure you both (Aimi really) got what you wanted.

How could she have done this? Not as in how could she think this, or how could she do this behind your back, her very own twin sister. But literally how? You guys put in this order a month ago when there was no more time for changes, how?

And yeah, you guess how could she do this to you is also another big question to ask.

For a moment you debate turning over to her and slapping her, screaming in her face, roving your fingers through her tightly wound updo that no doubt Nobara and Maki worked so hard to get right to her vision.

You do have to stop yourself, not because you care about her and don’t want to (though that’s at least a quarter part of it), but because Suguru’s standing the closest to her. You know if you tried anything physical he’d stop you right away.

Instead, once all the candles are lit and the two of you are pushed closer together with no one else to help Aimi, you grab a handful of the cake between your fingers; not caring if the sweet frosting wedges between your nails. Then you shove it in her face, some pieces of the cake’s interior sliding down your hands before it can reach her.

There’s multiple gasps around you.

Aimi takes a moment to digest it in. Her eyes flickering from the cake, to you, and to the others, right before they set back onto you. Her expression drops and she whines out her name in a way that has your heart clenching in a way almost guilty for her.

Strong, thick, and long fingers grip around your shoulder, finger pads digging into the flesh under your collarbone and tugging you backwards. Within your heels you almost stumble onto your behind but manage to balance yourself on the long table on your right.

You feel someone pushing you on the other side, forcefully jabbing your hip into the table. You almost yell at them but it’s only Nobara rushing to her friend’s aid.

In a glimpse, within space, everyone’s crowding around her. Suguru first, then Sukuna, Nobara, Maki, if there’s space everyone would be crowding around her. Even Satoru has fought his way to her side, Nanami trailing behind him.

“Why would you do that?” Suguru hisses at you, grabbing your hand guilty of the act, smeared in the bitter sweet taste of your raspberry-strawberry chocolate mixture of shame.

You could say it. ‘O-oh, I didn’t mean to—is Aimi okay?’ But you don’t have the energy to muster up a false narrative.

“Who grabbed me.”

“What?” Suguru takes a step back, expression twisted from harsh anger to awe.

“Who grabbed me?!” You whip your head around, looking for a guilty face.

It couldn’t have been Nobara, she pushed you not grabbed. So who grabbed you? You can still feel the stinging below your collarbone.

“So what?” Sukuna’s voice pitches in. Of course it was him. “You don’t do that to your sister, dipshit.”

“Sukuna, shut up.” Suguru exhales, looking away from you to give him a particular expression you can’t bother looking further into. Right before he returns back down to you.

“Why'd you do it? I thought we agreed to not do those things. Aimi said she didn’t want that.” He’s talking to you like a child now.

‘I didn’t mean to, I just wanted to have fun’ All fine things you can say in rebuttal but you’re tired.

“She changed the cake.”

Not even a big change was done. You shouldn’t even be mad…

“Huh?”

“All of this, over a cake?” His expression twists.

… but seeing her so happy, made you bitter.

“Aren’t you older?” He criticizes.

Suguru’s tone softens, the harsh grip he holds around your wrist softens and your arm falls back down to your side in an almost reckless slap. “You need to grow up.”

“It’s always I need to be better. I need to grow up. I'm the older one.” You spat. “I’m only ten minutes older, it’s not like I’m as old as you.”

This party isn’t even for you anymore. No choice in decorations, flowers and fairy lights forgotten, and the one thing you had a part of anymore—just stolen from you without you knowing.

“How could you have done that without telling or consulting me, Aimi?” You’re being pulled away by Suguru. “It’s MY birthday too!” You’re screaming now, attempting to jump out of your brother's arms.

Aimi doesn’t bother to look at you, she’s too busy wiping away the cake from her face and crying to Nobara about her hair, eyeshadow and foundation.

Suguru practically shoves you into your room, with him standing at the door frame, afraid as if you’ll try to escape. “I’m very disappointed in you… I don’t understand why you’d do something like this.”

“Don’t start acting like my big brother now.”

“What?” This one sounds different, he sounds injured. “You’re just being mean to hurt me. Shit move. You’re staying here until the birthday’s over. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“I don’t give a fuck.”

Suguru’s nose scrunches and eyebrows furrow at your choice of words. “Don’t swear—“

“Get them out of here. Go celebrate Aimi somewhere else.”

“This isn’t your house, it’s unfair to say that.”

“When mom and dad are gone, it’s our house, and I say I want everyone gone.”

“You’re just being—“

“Suguru, dude,” Satoru seems to come from the shadows, appearing from nowhere. You almost flinch from the sudden change but find yourself more alerted about what he could think of you now.

You shouldn’t care, you weren’t even in most of those slides. It’s very clear he doesn’t care about you.

“We can have it at my place. Aimi won’t mind, it’s the second place she considered for her birthday.”

HER birthday. You didn’t know about this, and it’s very clear why.

“Right, thanks bro.” Suguru gives Satoru a fist pump before he leaves. You don’t miss the subtle glare Satoru sends toward you.

It pangs your heart, not like it matters anymore.

“Happy now? You’ll be here all alone if we have the party at Satoru’s.”

None of these people care about you, or even know you. They’re all either friends of Aimi; people who were your friends and like Aimi more (only Nanami fits this bill); or people who Suguru are friends with people that favor Aimi.

It won’t matter if you’re alone for this birthday.

It’ll be the same anyway. With or without.

“Now you’re not talking?” Suguru calls your name. Once. Twice. A third. And with the fourth he’s tugging on your shoulder that Sukuna’s gripped at so harshly that you feel the ache and bruises start to form.

You whip around, “Don’t touch me! Just fucking go. Go watch over Aimi. It’s all you’re ever good for.”

Suguru’s brows furrow further, his lips pressing tightly together while you can feel his eyes stare into your back. You’re trying not to shake, to show him the vulnerability you’ve been trying to hide this entire time. The shame of being unwanted and the hurt of being alone.

“We’ll be back tomorrow.”

With that, Suguru slams your door shut on you. This one you do flinch at.

After a few moments of just staring at the carpet, recounting your actions and the words of others. You jump onto the bed and burrow yourself into the pillow. You don’t care if your makeup gets on the fabric, you don’t care if your hair spray messes up the sheets or if your hair wakes up in a bird’s nest tomorrow. You just want to sleep.

You can’t keep doing this.

Your life is in a constant cycle of misery. Watching Aimi receive all the love that you’ve ever wanted and friends that cherish her with three or more guys being at her beck and all. You could care less about Sukuna now but Nanami and Satoru? You were Nanami’s friend first and Satoru at least should have cared for you some bit, being this known since childhood.

But it’s not like you were as important to him as Aimi and Suguru.

You make a choice. You take out your phone from the bedside table and look for new places to live. A quaint spot far away from the mansion and somewhere familiar enough where you can rely on walking for food and entertainment.

Though as you're looking, you can’t help but wonder if you were ever once truly cared for at all. Not by the friends or family-friends of the group, but by your own siblings.

~*~

That still doesn’t explain how you’ve managed to make Satoru, Nanami, and Sukuna change their minds about you… yet it does. Merely since these past three months, Sukuna has come for your help, Nanami has come to apologize, and Satoru has come to annoy you.

You don’t even know where to begin, well, you suppose you can begin with the first person that laid foot on the doorstep of your mansion.

Nanami Kento, your old classmate, now acquaintance. Barely friend… considerably someone you used to admire romantically.

He was the first one to apologize to you. Before your brother, before your sister, and before Satoru and Sukuna. All four who have known you longer.

It happened two weeks after the fiasco, before you moved into your duplex.

You’re standing at the entry of the door frame, Nanami standing awkwardly outside, looking out of place in his slacks and short sleeved ironed shirt. You’re a little embarrassed to be in nothing but shorts and a tank top that frames your shoulders a little too well.

“Aimi’s not here.”

“I am not here for Aimi.”

“Ah, then Suguru’s not home right now either.”

The both of them are bowling with Satoru.

“No, I wished to speak with you.”

You tilt your head. Now why would he do that?

“Why?”

“I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?”

“For not realizing…” Nanami stops in his tracks. “I saw the way your brother treated you, the celebratory slideshow Gojo put on, and the cake.”

Your eye twitches, your whole body stamped to the ground to prevent yourself from jumping away at the reminder.

“Nanami—“

“Kento, please refer to me as Kento.”

“Nanami.” You repeat, firmly. “I appreciate the sentiment, but what does this have to do with you? You could recognize these things and leave them alone.”

Leave you alone…

“Because I wish to be on your side.”

Huh?

“It’s not until after your… my refusal on your heartfelt confession that I realized my time with you was priceless.” Nanami runs his hands through his hair. Now that you notice it, it’s more unruly and rustled up. Like he’s been repeatedly brushing his fingers through it. “I wish to rekindle our friendship. If that’s an emotion you share with me.”

“Nanami,” you place a hand forward, hopefully blocking him slightly from you. Be friends? Again?

“Nanami, if this is out of pity, you don’t need to. I’m over it, I’m done.” You shake your head. You can’t believe this is something that’s been happening.

Nanami Kento? The Nanami Kento basically appearing at your doorstep and wishing you well and even wanting to be your friend again?

“You can move on now, too.” It seems like adding that part might’ve been worse because his light colored brows seem to furrow even deeper. The wrinkles in his too young face crease ever more against the backdrop of light emitting behind him. All it does is increase the dark shadows on his face.

“Why do you look like that?” The words fall out faster than you mean them to. It’s unruly, unrefined, and downright rude. It’s something you wouldn’t dare say to Nanami in the past.

You mean it sincerely and genuinely… not in a rude way. Nanami seems to read the panic in your eyes because his lower lip drops and he eases out with a soft swallow, “I’m disappointed that our circumstances have led this way.”

And whose fault is that?

You let out a small sigh, nothing too serious, just relief. “Look Nanami, I'm preoccupied today.” And the next year if it means he’ll leave you alone. “I think you need some time to think about this, I’m appreciative of the thought but I’d like to move.”

“Could I still visit?”

Huh?

“Like old times?” He clarifies.

What part of moving on does he not understand?

Nanami continues, reading the confusion and utterance of borderline rejection on your face. “It would be nothing to burden you, I wish to share recipes of meals with you. I won’t step into your home, I’ll simply leave the food outside and be on my way.”

“Will you be on your way if I say no?”

He hesitates then. His body tilting in adjustments to the weight he pushes on his hips. “I’ll consider an alternative way to—“

“No, this is fine.” Your sigh is heavier, relenting. You pinch your fingers between your nose bridge.

You doubt Nanami will come too often, instead he’ll just drop free food at your doorstep and move on his merry way. Eventually you’ll stop getting free food because he’s moved on and you’ll both be better off.

You finalize it. “You’re fine to send me food here and there if you want to.”

That seems to brighten up Nanami’s day. Seeming as his honeyed eyes look as if they’re glittering and glowing in the halo of the afternoon light shining behind him. Even the wrinkles on his face smoothen out and the dark cast shadows fade away into the ambient lighting.

He smiles, gentle and warm. “This is a chapter of a development of moving into your new home that you can look forward to.”

The words are nice, you nod in his way before you shut the door.

That won’t lead anywhere you’ll be hoping for, so don’t expect anything.

Maybe a month into living there, Suguru drops in mid-morning to afternoon. You’ve just bought a pool for the backyard and are setting it up DIY style, even going as far to integrate wooden poles in the corners of the property to make it as homey as possible. You see the vision now, add fairy lights, and get people to install an above ground patio and it’ll all be perfect… maybe a sunroom too.

You don’t notice him until he’s come to the side of the house and continues to stand there for however long.

“Do you need help with that?” And you nearly jump out of your skin and bones when his voice infiltrates the space. Jumpscare.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m…” he looks around, obviously the wooden pillars need help being erected but also the connecting wood poles that would frame the four corners together. “Here to help.”

Despite how much you don’t want to see him, you admit you do want his help. Even if you can hire people, they won’t get the job done the way you want it. And you don’t want to end up sounding or looking bitchy to anyone.

After Suguru helps you with the most basic aspect of your dream backyard, he steps back besides you to oversee the progress. “It’s looking good.”

“Yes, I’m having a grand piano come in the next few days.” Though you lived in a mini mansion, the grand piano was always loud enough for Aimi to hear it. She said it always bothered her and contributed to her throbbing migraine level headaches.

“That’s nice.” He breathes out. A few beats pass before he adds, “When it comes, can I listen to you play?”

“Why?” You would’ve added something cruel and snide but you’re too tired to really make up something mean.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He tilts his head. “I know we haven’t talked or hung out for a while…”

If awhile means a month or several years for him, it isn’t up to you to decipher that.

“I’m actually busy right now, and will be for the next few…” you slow down on the next words to come.

“I can adjust to your schedule, whenever you’re free is when I’m free.”

“—years. I won’t be available for the next three years.”

Suguru pauses.

“So you’re telling me you have the next three years of your life planned out.”

“Yes.”

“So I won’t be able to hang out with you after you graduate?”

“No.” He would be too busy with Aimi anyway.

“Even if it’s just for an hour.”

“Time is money.”

“Wow, you’re dedicated, you really thought this through. What about relaxing? You ever plan on doing that or what?” Suguru folds his arms over his chest, looking down at you with an arched brow.

“I make sure to fit it into my schedule.” At this point you’re heading back inside through the sliding door, Suguru trailing behind you.

“Well then, don’t you have time for your big brother?”

So now he wants to be your big brother.

“… no, not anymore.”

He calls your name, ginger, something tender almost.

“I don’t know what made you move out, you can still have this place but please come back.” Suguru’s brows furrow deep into the crease of where his forehead meets his eyebrows. His lips sloped downwards in a sense of great discontent. “I won’t be able to be there if you need help.”

“There’s no difference.” You snap, almost instantly. “You were never there for me in the first place.”

Your arms come uncrossed, you throw them in the air for emphasis.

“It’s always Aimi first; Aimi this, Aimi that.”

Suguru’s arms then unfold from over his chest, he takes a step towards you, an arm hesitantly raised above his waist, seemingly reaching towards you. “I—“

“No.” You point a finger in his face. “You‘ve always put Aimi above me. Everyone has. It’s my whole life. This is the one place I’ll make it where she and nobody else associated with her will touch. It’s something for me, and me only.”

Suguru calls your name. “What do you mean? I—“ he stutters over his words. “I care about you, and Aimi does, too. Whatever we did, we’re sorry, we just—“

“Whatever you guys did?!” You balk. “You don’t even know!”

“I only know you started to fall apart because of the cake, but I don’t understand why.” Suguru lets out a short sigh, tipping his head back to rub his palm over his eyes. “I know Aimi changed the cake but…”

“But what? But she’s my little sister?”

“Yes!” He exclaims his response as if it solves everything. He perks back up, meeting your eyes. His are wide and explosive, almost as bright as Satoru’s when he’s made a discovery or exciting play of some sort.

“That’s the whole problem. You never let me have that chance, Aimi’s only 10 minutes younger. I exist, I’m your little sister, too.”

“But there must be…”

“No Suguru. When was the last time you ever let me have something of my own without having to give up something for Aimi?”

“But that’s just part of having siblings—“

“You don’t get it.” You stomp your foot. Your voice breaks and you feel like a child. It’s happening all over again. You try to fight for yourself and when things don’t go your way, you just end up crying. “I’m always the one having to sacrifice something. Aimi’s never had to compromise on something.”

“You forgot my flowers, they’re the only things I wanted for decoration. Nobody else cared about me when it came to something I wanted, or considered me when I asked for something—I never ask for anything!”

Suguru swallows, his eyes now lidded back to the way they usually are except with a different manner laced into the way his irises skitter around the room.

You want to stop, but you end up continuing your rant anyway. “Suguru, you don’t stop Satoru or Sukuna when they treat me like shit when it comes to Aimi. Satoru I understand, he doesn’t care about me, but wasn’t it strange to you how different of a relationship I have with him compared to you and Aimi?l

“Or Sukuna, you were too busy coddling Aimi to realize he pushed me to get to her! I had a bruise the shape of his finger prints from how hard he gripped my shoulder just to push me out of the way.”

“What? Sukuna did that?”

“Yes!”

“And how mom and dad never let you come to my recitals, only Aimi’s because ballet is so much harder than piano. What if I just wanted you to be there for me once?” Your eyes are getting dry.

“I-I get that,” Suguru clarifies, he’s given you your space to rant, and flail your hands and arms. “What did Satoru do?”

This one you’re more embarrassed about, you turn to the side. Finding your newly bought table more interesting and compelling. “It’s not his fault he doesn’t like me, our personalities don’t get along the same way yours and Aimi’s does…” your voice falls off slightly. This is another kind of subject, yeah Sukuna is mean but…

Satoru is no Sukuna, unlike Sukuna Satoru’s just dismissive—sometimes he’s mean—but most of the time he doesn’t really care about you enough to really talk or consider you as a companion or person. Even if you are Suguru and Aimi’s sibling.

“Ugh, but can’t he just be nicer about it?” You huff. “He’s not mean all the time but he’s so… dismissive.”

“Anytime I try to be cordial and or at least polite he’s always so disinterested and—“ it makes you feel unimportant. How stupid. “Didn’t you notice the slide show, Sugu?”

“Of course I did,” Suguru responds so easily, it’s like he doesn’t even realize how much that response would hurt you. He realized and he didn’t say anything?

He continues, “I know there weren’t as many photos of you on there, but… I thought you didn’t care.”

“How could I not? Any of the photos I was in, Aimi was always there. How could you not care? It would make sense if this was an Aimi only payrty but this is a birthday for me, too… it’s so disrespectful.”

Suguru sighs in emphasis, “You know Satoru’s disrespectful sometimes.”

“It doesn’t matter—wait, why are you even defending him?”

“No, it’s not like that.”

“Why wouldn’t you think I wouldn’t care?”

“You never came to me or told me about it.”

You’re screaming now. “You never noticed me! You never cared about what I wanted!

“Just,” your brother exhales. “Tell me what Sukuna did.”

“Why should I? Will you care? If Aimi told you he was just misunderstood, would you believe her and then chalk it up to nothing?”

“No. This time I’ll listen.”

You grit your teeth. “He’s just a mean bastard.” You don’t want to elaborate on all the ways he hurt you, and you don’t want to let Suguru know you have a crush on any of them! Especially considering how they’re all sweet on Aimi.

“Mean how?”

“Like you don’t know?”

Suguru rolls his eyes, “of course I know. I’m his friend.” Admittedly, Suguru has never seen Sukuna be mean to Aimi. “I need to know exactly.”

He needs to know exactly what so he can help you.

You stand in silence, eyes raking the hardwood flooring you make a mental note of adding a homey rug on. “He’s…” mean to you, but incredibly considerate to Aimi. He cares about the things she makes and he cares about her as a person. You’ve seen how people awe in how obedient he is with her, but when it comes to you, he considers you a nuisance.

You can’t blame him for favoring Aimi. If you had a person who loved and favored you that much you would fight that hard for them, too.

You can’t blame Sukuna if he doesn’t like you. Maybe you’re just not a lovable person.

“He’s what?” Suguru eggs on, tip toeing closer and angling his face down to catch your expression.

You turn away.

“Just go. I want to be alone.”

Suguru’s mouth gapes as if he wants to say more. He clearly wants to combat your words and concerns but all that goes to waste when he can see the discontent and frustration written in your furrowed brow and deep frown.

“Call me if you need me, really, I’ll be here as soon as possible.”

Suguru goes through the door with a small clasp while it closes shut and leaves you alone once again.

It’s just as you wanted. For you to be away from your brother and your sister, and all their little friends, too. Yet you can’t help but still feel like shit.

[yumesafespades]

Nobody’s Love

The three times you’re set aside by your crushes and the one time they spend their life all fighting for you.

Ft. (Reverse-Harem) Gojo Satoru x Reader, Nanami Kento x Reader, Ryomen Sukuna x Reader.

Abstract: You’re the twin sister to one Geto Aimi and the younger sister to Geto Suguru. It doesn’t get any worse than being the middle child, but you’re also in the shadow of your twin. You’re constantly outshined by her genius talent and ability to charm anyone she comes across. There’s little effort in the way she attracts romantic, platonic and even familial love. In comparison, you’re plain, too awkward, and too introverted.

Content: Extreme groveling, jealousy, envy, regret, unrequited love/crush, avoidant attachment style, Suguru is lowkey a bad brother, the other three get their fair share of being the worst, requited love/crush but only when it’s lowkey too late, yearning on another level, the three of them are all down bad, I lowkenuinely think they all deserve a chance.

Smut tags: TBA

wc. 9.4K (I cooked with this one I’d like to think)

A/N: I did not proofread this so there may be some errors. I’ll make a header since I want this to be a full distinguished series but I’m a flake so this may be the only part anyone (you and me) will get. I will make an interesting header when I can I’m just lazy honestly.

You are Geto Suguru’s younger sister, and a twin to none other than Geto Aimi, the youngest by 10 minutes, she was the most beautiful baby the doctors and nurses had ever seen. Even coming across her in the infant section, outsiders would awe and coo at her from across the window.

That’s what you hear anyway. Nothing ever so fond or glamorous said about you. You wonder if your parents even recognized you were her twin or rather if they only saw her based on her beauty and limitless talent.

Between the both of you she started crying first, babbling first, crawling first, walking first. You were following after her not only a few hours or a mere day behind. Yet her accomplishments were celebrated in full and yours was always a half-hearted attempt. She was a rather demanding child and somehow your baby-self knew not to be so needy when it came to attention or wanting anything. Maybe a part of you knew you wouldn’t get it, so much so that it wouldn’t be worth trying.

Even if Suguru attempts to not show it in the same extreme fashion your parents do, he has shown bias and favoritism towards her as well. Things that you wonder if he does or cannot control. Like giving her the part of the chicken that you like but are too exhausted to say you do because Aimi also likes that part; ruffling her hair, hugging her more often, or even bothering her more, opting to sit with her in the couch rather than you; allowing her first pick on movie nights and even snacks, even if you want the same one, the both of them would only say something like “Get something different. We can all share after.” And then Aimi would whine about you hogging the flavor she got that you initially wanted, to which Suguru would only tell you to eat your own.

It’s getting exhausting honestly. Feeling next to nothing compared to someone so perfect and so… beloved by everyone around her. Any slight you say that’s off could be considered a slight against her or misinterpreted aggression based on jealousy or something you knew the others around the two of you projected how you must have felt.

It wasn’t a secret either, how much less involved everyone was with you. Going to Aimi’s dance recitals over your piano performances because “ballet was so much more difficult than piano and any average person could learn piano but not everyone could afford to perfect ballet.” Everyone around you saw this but did nothing about it, and you knew they assumed the worst of you whenever you interacted with Aimi and she ended up crying because of something you said that wasn’t intended to be out of bad faith.

Suguru and both your parents lecturing you on how sensitive she was and that she’s the youngest (for not even 5 minutes) that she should be spoken to more warily of.

Everyone just thinks that because you’re aware of how much you’re less loved than her it makes you hate her. Or at least hold some kind of grudge against her in any capacity or way. That’s not true, you’re more upset about the people around you not treating you fairly. It’s not yours or Aimi’s fault that she’s “more loved” or “more perfect” than you.

This not only manifests in simple things like individual accomplishments but romantic relationships and friendships. It in fact got worse from there on out. After elementary you both were never put in the same classroom and anytime a new year came up, students would gossip and talk, hoping that they got the “pretty Geto twin” in their class. As if you both weren’t born with the same face.

This got even worse when it was personal. The introduction of Gojo Satoru was only the tip of the iceberg. A close friend of your brother, and by extension, your sister. Not you apparently… you all met him in middle school. Aimi was in fact the first one to approach him after he had done something ridiculously snooty and after he tried to talk back to her, Suguru stepped in.

After their defiance towards him that day, he found and attached himself to the two of them. Even if you did consider yourself as part of the group, it was like the world consisted of them three. You were aware he was aware of the silent mistreatment and exclusion but didn’t say anything.

He didn’t outright say or tell you he hated you, not even hate. Disliked? No, too negative. Disinterested is more like it, like you weren’t anything worth noting or paying attention to. This was usually displayed when Suguru or Aimi were occupied, either at the same time or only one of them could attend to his endless whims and had left him with you.

Yeah right. Like you could bide his time and energy down.

It was raining, the both of you under the cover of another building’s ledge while you waited for both Suguru and Aimi to come back. Both of them are looking to get service past the heavy rainout and obstructive clouds. While Satoru tapped the tip of his shoes against the flooring, erratically in motion with his own personal tune; you waited patiently as long as possible, unable to stop the restlessness of your own body.

You wanted to go back home and bury yourself under the covers while you multitasked on your pink 3DS and black PsP. You played whatever games were leftover that Aimi didn’t want when your parents bought you both the handheld consoles. (Aimi got both pink consoles while you had to settle for a black PsP because when your parents bought them, the pink ones had all but one remaining).

Satoru scoffs as he looks down, he doesn’t bother looking your way when he fidgets around, not entirely bothered by the heavy rainfall. “Where are they?” A downwards quirk makes its way on his lips as his utterance of the words speaks in existence come by the misery of their absence.

It shouldn’t all be miserable. You’re still here too. It's not like he’s alone in this.

“… how was school, Satoru?” You mumble out the words.

“Huh?” He turns to you, mouth agape as he looks down at you—because he’s tall, not because he’s disrespecting you—in a way that he’s surprised you even thought to ask.

“School?” You repeat. “How is it?”

“Fine. You?”

Here it is. This is your chance, your golden opportunity to make him like you!

“It’s been going well.” You say, looking for the words to string into the following sequence. “I’m doing well in my extracurriculars and classes. My parents say that they’ll attend my next piano recital, since it doesn’t land on the day of Aimi’s ballet lesson.”

You wait a beat.

“…That’s good.” Satoru’s taken the moment to look yonder, across the road.

You wait a beat longer.

“—I’m also president of my current club. If you haven’t heard, we’re the astrology club, but because we’re so small we also do—“

Satoru interrupts, “I’ve been to Aimi’s dance recitals before, she’s great.”

You pause. “Y-yeah. She’s amazing, I hear ballet is really hard so…” you trail off after that.

“If you have time, only if you do—I don’t want to cut into your busy schedule—would you like to come to my piano recital?” Your heart beat jumps.

“Uhhh, thanks for the invite I guess. Maybe if Suguru’s willing to bring me?” Satoru replies come half-heartedly. He’s searching for the words teetering over guilt on one side but very hesitant in disinterest over the other.

Another time had been when Satoru came over (the only reason you call him by Satoru instead of Gojo is due to the habit of hearing your siblings refer to him as Satoru so often) and while playing video games, both Aimi and Suguru left to use the bathroom. You and Satoru sat in silence for what felt like ten minutes but in reality was only two minutes—you know this because you had your eye on the console the entire time.

“… do you want to keep playing without them…?” The question rises out of your throat before you can stop yourself.

Satoru gives you a certain look, unsure and hesitant before he matches your confused ask with a nod and readies his controller close to his chest. You do the same as you both resume the game.

Instead of the incessant laughter and joking, it’s awkward and perpetual silence. Since it’s only you two in the game, Suguru’s and Aimi’s players are stationary. When it comes to a 1v1v1v1 mini-game, their avatars are the first to go, while it’s you and Satoru against one another; no matter how you try to slight him in the game to at least cause a modicum of enjoyment from his expression.

It ends with you winning—merely because he hadn’t even tried in the first place—that should make you happy. You never won when it was the four of you, or were this involved in a game with human interaction or contact. When the “Player 4 Wins!” Screen comes on, you four are all brought back into the main game after deeming you the winner of the mini game. From there he drops his controller on the floor in the same moment he stands.

“This is boring. I’m going to find them.” Satoru doesn’t bother checking for your expression and leaves.

There’s a sting in your heart that you can’t seem to get rid of.

You were aware you never stood a chance with Satoru Gojo. Not only was he the sole heir to a mega capitalistic empire that catered to his every want and whim, but a genius to boot. He sure didn’t act like it; more arrogant, cocky and self-interested in personality. Someone like him could only be tamed by Aimi’s own fire and spark.

You couldn’t help but want to be more important to him though. His self esteem and confidence drew you in, merely because you felt as if you lacked it yourself. But there were moments where you looked deeper and could find more to Satoru that you know he showed to the other two. Things you wished you were at least important enough to be let in on too.

Then Ryomen Sukuna who had also became your brother’s friend in association with his brother, Choso Kamo, and Aimi’s friend who is also both their brothers, Itadori Yuuji. You don’t know where Suguru and Aimi are getting these friends from, their past life karma must be amazing.

You were lucky enough to be able to tag along with your siblings to this party. The only reason you got to go in the first place is because Aimi begged you to come along with her and beg Suguru to let you guys go. She claimed it to be the power of two. Using you and saying that you would watch over her the whole time she was there. But you knew deep inside that if it were only her puppy dog eyes, Suguru would let her go anyway.

And that Suguru would come along too.

That’s how you “met” Sukuna. Who was sliding in around your sister, not behind her but shielding her from some handsy jerk that kept trying to reach her on the dance floor. You only managed to see this because you were nursing a cup of orange juice in the booth, watching everyone else’s drinks while they danced away.

His aesthetic and vibe were what drew you in. The colored lighting fanning down on his golden skin, a light sheen of sweat glossing over his exposed biceps like candy. While his wife-beater’s tank top gave way to the open frame of his broad and muscular chest. Then to the thick bands of black wrapped around his bicep, and wrists. Not to mention his piercings, oh goodness his piercings. He was a goddamn dark romance wet dream.

The tongue piercing that you only knew was there because he drew his tongue out to show Aimi in a sort of teasing fashion paired with his ridiculously cocky smirk. Then the shiny barbell that poked through in the space of his eyebrow slit. You can only suspect that he has another one down… there.

He swayed easily with the beat in a protective cocoon around her that kept her from the creep, but also allowed her to be nestled comfortably in his space that you were aware of knowing him for only a couple of hours that he reserved rightfully for only a handful of people.

Suguru is nowhere to be found, probably trying to hassle Satoru and the others that came with you all. Wasn’t there for when Sukuna sucker punches someone in the name of your younger sister. Almost developing into a full blown fight if it weren’t for her tugging him away and apologizing in the wake of everybody else when they walked out.

You follow after them, forgoing the safety of the drinks—you doubt anybody would come back to get them anyway, plus, your sister mattered more.

When you get outside, you find the two of them off to the side, he’s leaning against the wall and Aimi is apologizing and fussing over him. When you get closer there’s no doubt about the change in his expression, something that can only be described as soft and fond when his sight settles onto Aimi.

You’ve only known and seen him with that precarious scowl and hardened expression. Intimidating and disinterested in all but soft to those he cares about.

You’ve played these games before unfortunately. You know the moment you approach he’ll go back to being hardened and speculative, and mask any sort of softness he has. And you’re right (you hate being right).

When you approach close enough you keep your voice gentle and wary, your hand touching Aimi on her shoulder and the other on her forearm. You rotate her around a bit to check her for any marks.

“I’m alright sis.” She reaches her arms out to hug you tightly and when you do you can’t help but look over to Sukuna. His gentle expression gone, traded for the hardened and defensive one.

“Don’t be like that.” She swats at his arm. “This is my twin sister I’ve told you about.”

He gruffs and nods in your direction, not even a second of attention is placed on you before he asks her “Did he touch you anywhere else?”

“No. Thank you Suku.” She smiles up at him, her signature puppy dog eyes and her false lashes batting at him.

There’s a rise in a red hue flushed across his ears and cheeks that brightens and sweetens his complexion. He looks away from her ever so boyishly.

“There you guys are!” Suguru pulls up beside you, everyone else trailing behind him. Satoru slides in and nearly pushes you away while he takes up the space next to Aimi.

“Aimi! I mished you!” His words slur as he clamps onto her, nose buried into her fancy updo.

“Get off her.” Sukuna snarls as he pushes Satoru away and tugs Aimi closer into his chest.

“Both of you need to get your grubby little hands off my baby sister.” Suguru snaps, pulling Aimi back.

“Now explain what happened and why you’re all out here.”

Sukuna and Aimi take turns explaining what happened, Aimi leaving out aspects of how the creep truly touched her—to which Sukuna fills those in. Sukuna leaves out aspects of his fight—to which Aimi fills those in. Back and forth until the present.

“Why didn’t you watch over her?” Suguru nearly snaps to you, his frustration nearly toppling over enough that it sobers you from your exhaustion.

You fumble on your words. This was not on your bingo card for the night. “I-I thought it was okay. She was having fun and Ryomen—“

“But you’re her older sister.” By 5 minutes.

“You should have taken the foresight to pull her away. Take a break or something.”

“Suguru it’s okay.” Aimi tries to pull him away, his ire spilling over on you.

“No. This can’t be something that just happens and you have to be okay with it. Your sister should have known better.”

Your sister. As if you weren’t his sister, too.

“Okay fine! I’ll do fucking better next time. I’ll keep her on a damn leash and drag her around like a puppy if she acts out.” You scream.

Suguru’s expression flickers, from anger to guilt. He calls your name but you’ve turned around to walk off back into the house. You know that the four of them are going to leave and you’ll just grab an uber on the way back.

“Wait!” Suguru’s fighting to follow after you but he loses you as soon as you step inside and blend in with the sea of people.

Many spam calls from him take over your phone when you’re trying to self appease with fanfiction but you end up just texting him.

You: Take Aimi back home, I’ll get my own ride back home.

Then you block him.

A part of you hopes he stays and searches for you. It’s not like you’re trying super hard to hide. You’re just off in some discreet corner but it’s not like you tried to hide from him in the basement or something.

But when you check their locations they’ve already driven off.

Shoko, Utahime, and Choso have found you after getting the kids (Nobara, Itadori, Maki, Inumaki and Panda) a ride back home. Offering to give you a ride back to which you gratefully accept. You’re very glad they ignore your sniffling all the way back.

The other times you’ve encountered Sukuna are when he’s at your guy’s mansion and you and Aimi happened to be baking at the same time. Or well you finished your batch and hers is still sitting in the oven.

You’ve been into working out and wanted to try many many recipes to supplement the craving of sugary sweets that would soon be your downfall if you ingested them long enough. This time you’re making baked protein brownies instead of the microwaveable protein brownies.

When you’re chewing one, that's when Sukuna comes into the kitchen. Awkwardly as you’re eating you hum and give a nod of acknowledgment in his direction as he returns it with a nod as well.

He’s looking around in the cupboards but is unable to find what he’s searching for.

When you finish chewing you ask, “Are you thirsty?”

Sukuna responds with a gruff yes.

“There’s water bottles in the fridge.”

He follows through, and without a second to waste he holds the bottle up high and gulps down the liquid. You can’t help but eye the way his Adam’s Apple bobs with every movement, some trickling droplets sliding down his chin further to his collarbone.

When he’s done he caps the bottle and settles for a moment. You take the opportunity to ask, “Do you want to try one? They’ve cooled enough.” You gesture to the tray.

He shakes his head, wiping the stray droplet with the collar of his shirt.

You try again. “They’re protein brownies.” You know with someone that muscular it’s not without a doubt that they workout.

“No thanks.” He actually speaks to you, tone firm and even. You take the hint.

The timer goes off startling the both of you and Aimi rushes into the kitchen. “My muffins are done!”

Aimi takes out the tray and begins to fan at the steaming delicacies. Golden and wafting with all the sweetness in the world. In her rush here the coils of her hair from being halfway curled twirl in her face matched with the sheen of sweat making her look otherworldly. You’re jealous you don’t even look half as stunning as that when you sweat.

“Here Sukuna, try one!” After having one that’s cooled down, she cups it at the bottom and with her thumb and pointer she offers it up to his lips.

Very obediently, he leans down and takes a bite.

“How is it?” Aimi asks, eagerly seen by the rocking of the balls of her feet back and forth.

“I don’t know… I didn’t think little squirrels knew how to bake.” He teases with the most intense grin, wiping away at the crumbs with the back of his hand.

“I’m not a squirrel! That’s the least attractive animal you could’ve compared me to!”

“What? Squirrels are small, fast, and they scurry.” He raises both hands up in defense before folding them over his chest, bolstering his bicep muscles and practically making the muscles over his chest pop out. “And didn’t you just scurry over here to check on your muffins? Sounds a lot like a squirrel with her acorns.”

“Sukuna, if you keep being so mean, I'm going to tell Sugu.”

“Go ahead, what’s Sugu gonna do about it?”

She huffs dramatically and turns over to you, seeing you munch away at your third brownie, watching them as if you haven’t been here the entire time. “Sister…” her voice pitches high and whiny.

“Can I have one…?” She comes to you with a pout and her hands pressed together in a prayer.

You look away and press your hand flat against her face and push her away. “Why should I? Last time I made it, you ate it all before the third day.”

“It’s all gonna go into my tummy anyway.” She whines.

“They’re protein brownies, they’re meant to keep you fuller with less. I don’t know how you can stomach it all.”

“The power of my full tummy is comparable to none!”

With less reluctance than before you let her snatch a couple, cheeks full, much to Sukuna’s comparison, looking as cute as a squirrel. From behind her Sukuna still has his arms folded over his chest and looking over her. You don’t think he realizes it but he has such a fond grin on his face.

“Sukuna! Come try some!”

With no hesitation he makes his way to her side and grabs one from her plate.

“Hey! That’s mine!”

“Not anymore.” As he drops it into his mouth.

There’s some chewing going on, and you refrain from acknowledging it but there’s a minuscule bit of hope that he’ll say something kind or at least doesn’t show disinterest.

“How is it?” Aimi asks, head tilting and even if she doesn’t realize it, she’s batting her lashes at him again.

“S fine, like yours better.” There goes your pride. You have half the mind to know that he only said that because she’s who he actually likes.

This is the time that lets you know for sure to move on from Sukuna, it was just a little crush anyway and it’s not like you stood much of a chance.

You got into a little fight with Aimi and started ignoring her. Little things like her wearing your clothes without permission or using your makeup and not cleaning it up, or even messing up your well aesthetically curated space. This just so happened when Sukuna was around and Aimi had enough of being ignored.

You both don’t realize it but Sukuna entered the house, probably waiting for Suguru but overhead you both arguing.

“Stop ignoring me! I said I was sorry!”

“Shut up! I don’t care, I’m still mad!”

You stomp down the stairs, unaware that Sukuna is sitting on the couch in the living room.

“You can still be mad but why did you throw my toothbrush away?”

“I didn’t throw it away!”

“Liar!” She screams back, voice reaching a pitch that makes your throat ache from hearing it.

“You fucking child! Why can’t you just give me my space?! Why don’t you ever listen to my boundaries?!”

“I never make you ask for my stuff!”

“I never even fucking take your stuff!”

“Yes you fucking do!”

By this time Aimi has come downstairs and tears are streaming down her face as she stomps following after you.

“I told you I didn’t take your toothbrush you dumbass bitch!”

“Don’t call me that!” And that’s her final tipping point before she wails and buries her hands in her face and sobs away.

“Apologize to her, now.” You don’t even realize it, Sukuna stepped in behind her and took her close to him, letting her sob into his chest and shudder every time she exhales.

“This isn’t your business.” You say, but can’t help the fear inflicted in your bloodstream and the watering in your eyes. Not that Sukuna cares, in fact you hate it more that he might find pleasure in managing to intimidate you.

You’re also scared he’s going to tell Suguru and get you in trouble.

“I won’t tell your brother if you apologize.”

“Why should I? This is between me and Aimi. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“This is more than that and you know it.”

What.

He continues. “This just isn’t about her borrowing your skirt or something stupid like that. You’re jealous that everyone prefers her.”

Is this dude projecting? There’s no doubt that he’s right because that little self awareness in you is good when you’re jealous of Aimi because everyone just seems to love her more but in this scenario your anger is directed towards Aimi for being spoiled. Not for being favored.

“You’re weird for even saying that. You don’t know me.”

“Because there’s nothing to know. You can't blame anybody but yourself for being the boring Geto twin.” Now that one stings.

Even that one makes Aimi look up from her place.

You leave the house before Aimi can convince you to stay.

Recently, and your final straw, Nanami Kento.

You meet him in the freshman year of college, and are forced to work with one another all semester; professor’s orders. He’s just a year older than you, and you find yourself getting along with him quite well.

He seemed pretty intimidating at first, boring almost. Not Sukuna intimidating, nor Satoru intimidating (if any). But rather he exuded something silent and calm, like he could weather any storm brought to him. Very refined and well balanced. You’ve never seen him “crash out” or awkwardly dramatically display some sort of emotion that was an extreme response.

Of course this didn’t make him any easier to get along with (it felt like he wasn’t even human). It didn’t help his image of being intimidating however by constantly dressing up compared to the rest of the people in your class who opted for sweats, jeans, or loungewear.

No, Nanami came into class everyday in slacks with only three varying colors: grey, beige, or navy. Never black because apparently that was too grim. He also never wore anything other than a button up long sleeve shirt, ending at the three quarter point on his elbow, also in the colors of: navy, white, or grey.

The only ridiculous pop of color he’d ever worn was through his tie. Singular. Emphasis on singular. It was a colorful, not exactly unappealing sort of apparel. The leopard print somehow fit in with his everyday wear no matter how he switched between the colors (there were only so many to cycle between).

Even if you had difficulty getting him to open up at first and to consistently communicate with you. It’s easy to plan prompt meetings with him, he has nothing going on in his life that makes his education secondary, and the both of you even have a shared calendar on when to meet and notifications if any of these events or meetings change.

But anything past that it’s merely business.

Over these repetitive meetings you think you have grown rather fond of him. He isn’t as stone cold as he appeared or acted and you’ve successfully been able to pull a few half smiles from him.

Mind you, you’re always sure to act a little extra silly with him.

“And this is how we’ll get it done. Like baking two muffins in one tray.”

Nanami quirks his brow at you, unable to hide the slight twitch in his lips and the expression change told by the subtle movement beneath his tired eyes. “Are muffin trays not equipped to hold 6 to 12 muffins?”

You grin in return. “They are, but we aren’t baking 6 or 12 muffins silly.” You emphasize this by pointing at point a on the web and then dragging your finger on the screen to point b.

“We’re only baking two.” You say this as if it’s common sense. Only a few people can understand your elite ball knowledge.

“… by that logic there would be no other way.” Nanami nods in return with your words. Though you just know by his tone he has no idea what you’re talking about. You can only hope he regards this statement with some sort of sentimentality that you associate with his company.

It’s taken you an entire month to get him to warm up to you and speak to you with the mere essence of warmth and comfort. Even getting a simple hello anywhere you see him without having to initiate it is rare (it’s only happened 3 times). But you revel in the challenge, you assume he’s just an inexperienced, ambitious and determined man who's never had the touch or affection of a woman. You can change that. You can make him soft and relaxed, he’s already gentle and so emotionally intelligent.

Satoru and Sukuna may have been flops (they were never yours to flop in the first place), Nanami seems promising! In fact, maybe you’ll be calling him Kento soon. It’s almost a month and you see each other twice a week!

You try it for yourself. When the both of you are working seriously and diligently—or Kento is more so. You’re just working from time to time then sneaking a cheeky glance at him.

“Is there something on my face?”

DARN IT. You look away, eyes flitting everywhere but his face, his blue dress shirt, his tie, his pants, his hands—oh goodness, his hands. Thick fingers nesting a pen between the hold of his thumb and the side of his pointer, looking ever so delicate in contrast to his forearms. God forbid your heart speak for your brain, because the protruding of his veins in the tendons of his forearm muscles will never not make you want to vibrate out of your seat.

Japan would go through a world war for those forearms. You wonder what the rest of him looks like. His dress shirt practically bugles around his form from how fitted it is around his shoulders.

Nanami’s placing his pen down on his notebook is what gets you back into reality.

“I got distracted, my bad.”

“Is something wrong?” Nanami tilts his head.

You find yourself muttering, “Do you work out?”

He blinks once or twice. “Excuse me, could you repeat that again?”

“No sorry, it was nothing.”

“Did you ask if I frequently visit the gym?”

“Well when you phrase it like that… yes.”

“I make sure to put aside an hour dedicated towards strength training for five days per week to keep my body healthy.”

It sure does more than make him healthy.

“Is there a reason why you ask this?”

“Well I make some pretty good protein brownies. Would you be interested in coming over and trying some?”

“I don’t think my expertise is suitable for that kind of palette.”

You shake your head. “I’m not asking you to critique them, Kento. I’m just asking if you want to come over and have some, we can be working in the meantime.”

“Kento?” He arches his eyebrow at you, lips pressed together quite firmly.

“Uhhh, yeah.” You fumble with your digital Bluetooth pencil, slotting it into the spaced your tablet case. “I thought we were pretty familiar to refer to each other by our first names.”

“Geto, The sentiment is kind and well meaning but I would appreciate it if we remained on professional terms.”

Oh.

“Oh, yeah, that’s fine. Thank you for telling me.” You both go back to work, as if nothing happened. Your suggestion got lost in the wind and Nanami was the first to leave the library.

It’s only until a month and a half later, a whole three quarters of the semester left until you both decide to work on your final project together. You think it’s timely because Nanami agreed that this would be a fine point to begin.

And it leads to the project being developed at your place instead of the library. Your ultra logical reasoning being that he could stay over longer and that you could provide food free of charge. Of course he declined but you explained that it would be easier to work longer hours if you were already at home due to the library hours only being open until 7 pm.

Nanami finally agreed under some more logical reasoning and insistence.

It was 5 pm when he came over and he agreed to stay for dinner when you guys finished part 1 of the project. You were jumping for joy, practically eager to show him a small part of your domestic life and showing off that aspect to him. Maybe he’d become more comfortable and open with you if you did.

You spent the entire time in your room, figuring out what to wear for that perfect, cozy yet casual feeling when being home. Something that would make him notice you and feel comfortable speaking more.

You’re too caught up in your space to notice Aimi calling your name until she knocks on your door.

“You have a guest.” She peeks into your room, seeing the stray clothes skewed over your bed and the floor. “He’s a real cutie, where did you find this one?”

“Oh shut up.” You playfully mess with her hair and move past her, down the stairs all until you get to the front door, seeing Nanami slowly take off his coat.

“You can leave it on one of the coat hangers.” You approach him with a smile. Nanami nods in return.

“So, are you going to introduce us? It’s not very nice to invite people into the house without telling us.” Aimi steps out from behind you, a little pout as she dramatically tugs at your elbow and lays her cheek on the cap of your shoulder.

“I apologize. I did not intend to overstep.”

Aimi giggles, brightening up at his tone and smiles ever so warmly. In a natural way that comes as easily as breathing to her as she coordinates herself with such whimsy and breadth that has Nanami unable to take his eyes off her.

“I’m Geto Aimi, this one’s twin sister. And you?” She points a thumb in your direction.

“My name is Nanami Kento. Thank you for allowing me into your home.” He bows towards her.

He should be bowing towards you. You were the one who invited him here, gave him permission to be here.

“Oh no, please, that’s so informal. I appreciate your kindness.” Her grin gets so large, unable to hold back the laughter beneath her breath.

“It’s nothing at all Geto.”

“Pffftt, Geto’s so informal. Please call me Aimi, right? Kento?”

He’s taken a back for a moment, but not holding the same expression he did when you referred to him as Kento. Rather he’s surprised and flattered all at the same time.

“It would not be right of me to—“

“Yeah, but wouldn’t it be confusing saying Geto when we’re all Geto in this house? I mean besides you of course. My sister is Geto, I’m Geto, our older brother is Geto. It would be so much easier to call us by our first names.”

“That would be a logical conclusion…”

Your sister raises a brow in his direction, leaning towards him and eagerly waiting for him to say…

“Aimi.”

“There it is! Good job!” She turns back to you, a victorious and confident smile on her face. “I’m going to leave him to you! Have fun with whatever it is you both are doing!”

She turns around and bounds back up the stairs, most likely to her room. Or maybe frolicking in Suguru’s room and waiting for him to come back home and beg him to play video games with her.

You and him both face each other. A part of you expects him to refer to you by your name but instead he gestures towards the dining room table and asks, “shall we get started?”

It’s only a good 45 minutes later that the front door opens again and Suguru has come in from band practice, a plastic bag hooked over two of his fingers. When he coordinates himself to toe off his shoes and face the inner living room area he spots you and Kento at the dining table.

“Hey.” He calls over to you, approaching you and Nanami.

Suguru ruffles your hair, looking over your shoulder to see what you’re working on. Nanami at this point has stopped to observe your ease in interaction with your brother.

“Hey,” Suguru extends a hand over to Nanami, for a casual handshake greeting. Nanami nods in return, extending his own hand when they exchange a leveled handshake.

“Suguru.”

“Nanami Kento.”

You pitch in. “He’s a friend from class. We’re working on our end of the semester project.”

Suguru hums. “I’m going to see Aimi, let me know if you need anything.”

You notice the weight of the bag, there’s a possibility that there’s more snacks than Aimi needs. Maybe some of them are for you—a gesture that he could have thought of you for once.

Your tone turns teasing, pitched in a certain way. “There’s no way all those snacks can be for Aimi… right?”

Before Suguru’s socks can even ascend the first step he turns to you and gives a boyishly little grin, paired with the scratching of the back of his head. “Sorry, she begged me to get her these.” He lifts the bag in a gesture. “Next time I’ll get you some.”

Translation: Next time I’ll think about you.

You hide the displeasure from your expression and work away. However, after a few silent moments.

“You and your siblings seem close.” That’s the first time Nanami ever spoke to you to ask about you, and not because you were obsessing over him like some weirdo.

“We are.” You respond. Though saying the words and agreeing with them are different things. Suguru and Aimi are close. You and him are just… siblings. You just happened to be born in the same family, maybe sometimes you perceive that you were lucky to be born as his sister at all.

A darker part of you thinks (believes) that you would have taken Aimi’s place if she wasn’t born in the first place.

“They’re funny, and get along well.” Are the only things you can say. You know Suguru and Aimi like the back of your hand, only because you’ve felt like you’ve had to beg to spend time with them without making you feel left out. Or that you'll be left out when it’s the two of them because they’ve already got along so well, spent so much time together and know each other more than they’d know you.

“Between you and your twin, who is the youngest?”

“Aimi is the youngest, I’m the oldest by 10 minutes.”

“I see.” Nanami nods, as if that’s the only correct way to respond.

“Are you hungry? I made a shrimp Thai curry today, there’s enough for the both of us.”

“There’s no need. I’ll be leaving in the next 15 minutes.”

“Oh right, you’re probably worried about your nutrients.” You nod in understanding. “I won’t pressure you but I also go to the gym and I like to count my calories and macros. This dish was made in mind to be low calorie, and high protein. But If you’re not comfortable staying to eat, then I can pack some for you to go.”

Nanami stops and blinks for a moment. “If you absolutely must, then please.”

You smile. Bingo.

Nanami leaves with a nicely packed portion of the shrimp Thai curry you made and he leaves with the most polite bow.

After the front door has closed, there’s the repetitive taps of someone descending the stairs. It’s only when they come to your side do you notice it’s Suguru, with his hair half up, half down, one side done into a braid, the other is brushed out and free.

“Why do you look like you came out of a beginner salon?” You tease him, picking up the braid hastily tied and loose and dropping it down on his shoulder as emphasis.

He scowls at you, playfully swatting your hand away. “Aimi is anything but a beginner in the salon. She’ll probably be ruling it in the next five years.”

You roll your eyes, not being able to help the smile that crosses your face.

“Why did you invite a boy to our house?”

A boy…? Nanami?

“Nanami is anything but a boy. Plus he’s my classmate, we kinda need somewhere to study y’know?”

“Yeah but he’s also a guy.” Suguru huffs, rolling his eyes at you while he hooks an arm over your shoulder.

Is this it? The older brother finally being protective of you?

“Has he met Aimi?” Ah, there it is.

“Anytime a friend meets her they're always obsessing and catching onto Aimi like flies. Damn Satoru and Sukuna can’t get their heads in the game to lock in without fighting over her.”

He says this all, but it’s more like he’s just speaking to himself.

“Well?” Suguru prompts, shaking you slightly.

“Yes. She opened the door for him.”

“Darn it.” He straightens himself and presses both hands to his face.

“Why can’t these freaks leave my sister alone.” He utters to himself.

“I’m glad you don’t have this issue. One less person for me to worry about.” Suguru heads towards the kitchen, hands stuffed inside his black sweats.

Ouch.

Nanami comes to your house at least two—possibly three times a week to refine the project. Every time he’s been here he’s talked to Aimi at least once. By her own account or him taking the initiative to ask about her.

Over your time together before this, Nanami has never once asked about you, or how you’ve been or what your favorite things are. It almost makes you jealous of how charmed he is by her, you’ve known him for longer but she’s managed to be able to call him Kento and get him to call her by her name.

Does Nanami even know your name? (He should, he’s referred to you by it only when government-naming you in full formal and polite fashion).

You happened to come home late, and find Nanami over, trying a brownie that your sister made. You’re standing like a little menace in the corner, hiding from them.

But alas, two weeks before your final presentation, after all that refining. You ask Nanami to come over and for the next twenty minutes witness a conversation that you haven’t had the privy to before, but only because it’s a side of Nanami that you’re only witnessing now. You assumed it was because you were classmates that he was more professional and formal around you, for the grade, or because it was better to keep silent and not mix pleasure with business.

Now you’re assuming it’s just because of you.

Because Nanami talks with her in such a familiar and friendly manner--friendly for Nanami--that you have never heard from on his end. The most he'll do for you is make light conversation. With Aimi he's out here asking for her interests, her hobbies, her goals for the future, what major she is, and how she perceives certain things.

Like you mentioned before, you're beginning to think that it's you who's the one that's cursed. Satoru, Sukuna, now Nanami?!

Not to mention, she refers to him as Kento and he doesn't say anything! Not like the Geto thing is entirely that huge, or big, and it's easier to differentiate the three of you by, but Kento should be using his logical brain to tell her that it's improper to call him by his first name when the only reason he calls any of you by your first names is because he needs to differentiate you all from one another and avoid confusion!

It's ridiculous and sad.

For you.

For Aimi it's grand and lucky. He's resting his backside against the counter, Aimi is right beside him and yapping away while he’s nodding with her every word and catching onto her every euphemism and whim. Every bright, bold and cheery way you've tried to come off onto Nanami has just flown out the window in exchange for your sister. She doesn't even need to try to get his attention or friendly words or gestures.

But for you it's difficult, sad, utterly embarrassing getting outshone like this. For Nanami to be asking about her, interested in her personality and character. It's not like you're invisible or shit.

It's frustrating having to be the only Geto in the house that's not popular. Even with both of your siblings being introverts, they shine entirely because of that. They aren’t awkward introverts, they are cool introverts. Big difference.

You only begin to show yourself when you hear the pitter patter of footsteps behind you, signalling Suguru has come down to hang with the family. In this case, you intrude on Nanami and Aimi having a thrilling conversation shift now to her long-term obsession, leopard seals. To which she emphasizes with great certainty--that they are the demons of the ocean.

Aimi gives you a wave in gesture, smiling wide as if sunshine incarnate, while Nanami only gives acknowledgement to your presence with a stand-still nod. It grinds your gears honestly.

You try not to show it however. "Hey, isn't this too late for you?"

"What do you mean?" Nanami emphasizes this question with a subtle tilt of his head and another bite of the brownie he holds between his thumb and pointer.

"I'm just saying that I hope it isn't too late for you to stay." You look at your phone, held tight over your palm. "It's already 7."

“Right, it’s almost Aimi’s bed time.” Suguru comes in from the second door of the kitchen, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Sugu!” Aimi can’t restrain the shared grin she has spread on her visage. She jumps around and throws her arms above her head in show of such excitement it begins to make you happy for her.

“You shouldn’t have any sweets. It’s going to soil your appetite for dinner.” He comes by her side, opposite to Nanami, and begins ruffling her hair.

“Suguru, you're making dinner?” You light up.

Suguru rarely makes dinner–the three of you are all busy college kids–so the three of you resort to eating takeout every lunch and night.

“Wait, are you going to make my favorite?!” Aimi erupts into a fit of laughter and giggles when Suguru tickles her neck.

“I suppose I’ll get going.” Nanami nods to the two of them, then turns to you. You assume he’s going to make his own dinner back at his apartment.

“It’s late already, why don’t you just eat dinner with us? There’s enough to go around.” Suguru offers, taking Aimi into his side when she hooks her arms around his waist.

“It would be improper of me to intrude on your family dinner.”

You open your mouth, “Nanami, I’m sure–”

“Please Kento! It won’t be a big deal.” Aimi cuts in to plead in front of him, both hands pressed together as she pouts and bats her lashes at him. Her lashes are thicker with the falsies she had done a few days ago, framing her face and emphasizing her cute mannerisms.

Hell you could be that cute if you put in the same effort.

“Suguru has enough for all of us, right?” Aimi turns to him, to which Suguru nods in agreement.

Nanami attempts to deny it with, “It’s your favorite dish, any portion given to me means one less for you.”

“Nonsense, your presence here means more to me than eating more of my favorite food.” Aimi shakes her head, eyes pleading with him again.

Maybe you are the problem. Aimi is just too charming to refuse.

Nanami cannot refute that argument any longer, and he gives a long sigh before reluctantly agreeing. “Just this once, I’ll stay for dinner.”

Aimi jumps around gleefully, with the brightest smile. Suguru tampers her down by shooing her out of the kitchen and telling her to go watch a movie while he cooks, the longest it would take would be thirty minutes.

Nanami offers, ever so politely. “Since you’ve generously offered to let me stay, let me help with the cooking.”

Suguru shakes him off. “No, you’re a guest. If you want to do something, go entertain Aimi, she’s like a puppy that distracts easily.”

And of course Nanami relents when it comes to her. But never to you, mind you.

“Where do you think you’re doing?”

“What? Can’t I go play with them too?”

“No? Come help me cook. Between you and Aimi, you’re less likely to burn things down.”

This is another thing you HATE. You know Aimi’s only pretending to be incompetent at cooking just so she doesn’t have to be in the kitchen. You always insisted to Suguru that she needed to be whipped into shape and disciplined. She can bake but she absolutely refuses to cook.

But you utter out a “fine” and help him anyway. This is the only time you can get with your older brother without Aimi getting in the way.

During dinner you learn more about Nanami Kento than you knew about him before and he was your classmate, for heaven's sake you brought him over here first!

His parents are abroad like yours are and he rents his apartment on his own. He lives a 20 minute walk from campus and drives around depending on where he needs to be. He's an only child and is considering getting a cat. He likes watching documentaries and watching tearjerker dramas on his night routine.

All of this is only learned by Aimi’s incessant badgering. But for her, Nanami’s freely speaking this information.

Nanami departs with a polite smile and makes his way back home at 8:25.

By the time finals are here the presentation is way passed refinement and you both know you’ll attain an easy A.

You’ve been planning this for a few weeks since you knew you were paired with Nanami but you know this is something you'll need to get out before it overruns you.

You like Nanami, have a crush on him genuinely. He’s kind, polite, intelligent, extremely attractive and has his goals set out for him. Not to mention, extremely emotionally intelligent. He’s thoughtful and knows how to communicate his own boundaries without stepping over yours. It’s sort of why Satoru and Sukuna were much easier to let go of.

And the fact that you knew Nanami first. You thought you had a chance.

Maybe a new lesson you need to learn is to not let your crushes know about your sister.

After class you pull him aside at an empty park bench across campus. The walk there is awkward and long, with neither of you saying anything.

“Geto? Is something wrong?” It’s the first thing he says when you both finally get to the bench and sit down.

“No, no. Not really.” You respond with a shake of your head. “I just need to get this off my chest.”

Nanami doesn’t say another word, silently letting you continue.

“I like you Nanami. Romantically.”

“… I see.”

Really? Is that all he has to say?

“I don’t reciprocate your affection, though your feelings are appreciated and this gesture is very brave of you to go through with.”

You prepare yourself for the worst.

“It’s been a pleasure working with you over the semester. Let’s keep our relationship strictly professional.” Nanami lifts himself from the bench, gathering his backpack and walking off.

Really?

That’s it?

“Is it Aimi?”

That’s what gets Nanami to turn around. To finally look at you.

“If what you’re indicating is that my affections are negated towards you due to my own relations with Aimi then that is false. I simply believe the two of us are not compatible.”

“But you and Aimi aren’t?”

“… that is personal.” Nanami recorrects the position of his glasses on his nose bridge, anything other than making direct eye contact with you.

“Do you like Aimi?”

“Good day, Geto.” He leaves just like that.

You only find out your answer when you spot Aimi across campus with Nanami at her side in one of the tables that are near the fast-food counters. And Aimi is almost never on campus. She loves her room, she’s such a homebody, and almost exclusively takes online or hi-flex classes. It takes both you and Suguru pushing her out the door and pulling her away from her PC to get her to have some fresh air. But here she is, sitting in front of Nanami.

This is the end of your love life for you. With the three of them at least. You never stood a chance.

So why the hell are they all here? The three stooges, your three evil crushes find themself at your doorstep after incessant knocking and ringing. Sukuna with what seems like a bag of takeout hooked between two fingers and then something small nestled in his arm; Satoru holding what seemed to be the world’s largest bouquet while wearing a finely tailored suit and donning that cheeky little grin; Kento—god give you strength—had his collared shirt sleeve folded up to his elbows, revealing the every little flex and tender of his muscles while he cradled a large gift box to his chest.

“Why the hell are you all here?” At the same time no less.

Satoru manages to get his request across first. “Come out to dinner with me.” He checks his watch. “It’s only 3 right now, the reservation is at 8. Just enough time for us to go shopping.”

“Shopping? What for?”

“Your dress, heels, underwear maybe?” The miniscule quirk in his lips hikes up higher on his cheeks as he leans closer in only to be crushed by Sukuna’s large hand coming out to pull him back by the collar.

“You talk too much, it’s my turn.”

Sukuna’s now center in your doorway, the intimidating piercing red eyes that used to stare down at you with that decisive strike are now scattered unsure across your face. So much so it makes you nervous from how nervous he is.

“Don’t go anywhere with these losers.” His mouth twists deep into a scowl. “I already brought food, and I have something for you.” If anything told by the clumsily and loosely wrapped gift in his arm.

“That’s uh, kind of you but I don’t have any funds to pay you back with.”

“He’s making you pay him back? Sukuna, that's dirty.” From behind, Satoru hooks his arm around his neck and pulls him back, causing them both to nearly topple backwards on the two step front.

“Hell the fuck no!”

They’ve practically eliminated each other and given Kento enough room to approach.

“Hello, how have you been?” His voice is a touch gentle, almost breaching on fondness.

You hesitantly respond, “Good.” Your tone takes a sudden turn. “ Are you here to ask me to make time for you too or?”

“No. I couldn’t ask that of you. However,” he presents to you the large gift wrapped box.

“This is a gift I’ve chosen for you.”

“I see…” are the only words you can conjure as you reluctantly take the box into your arms. “I’ll open it later… thank you.”

I guess.

“Anything else?” You ask them. To which Satoru and Sukuna have all stopped arguing and Kento continues to stand there like he’s part of your front garden property.

“Right… bye.” You shut the door on them.

What the fuck.

[oncam]

cw : dad-daughter incest, cheating

based on this request <3 barely proofread i’m sorry don’t shoot me

You hate when he's like this—Satoru. Your dad. The most arrogant man in your life. 

He gets mean sometimes, talking down to you like he's trying to make you insecure. Maybe he is. What other reason could he have for telling you that you'll have to try harder for him while you're actively sitting down onto his cock? 

You're struggling to fit all of him inside you, and he takes advantage of the moment to remind you that he's older than you, so of course he's been with a lot of other women. In other words, he's experienced.

Unlike his daughter, goes unsaid, but you know the implication is there. And unfortunately, all you want to do is prove him wrong—to make your daddy proud.

That's why your thighs burn from exertion, your bare back beaded with sweat as you bounce up and down. You're giving him a great show, moaning so loud with your head thrown back, your chest out toward his face. Your ass is slapping against his hips whenever you drop down onto his cock over and over, sucking the entire length into your heat each time.

Satoru has his hands behind his head, lazily watching the way your tits move as you ride him the best that you can. "Tired already?" 

"I'm not, fuck—mmhah, not tired," you whine. 

"Really? Cause you're slowing down." Satoru's lips tug into a frown. "Maybe we should flip over, yeah? Let's try this another time."

"N-no, I can do it. I promise."

"I'm sure you think so, baby," he coos, the soft tone of his voice only irritating you more. 

You stop moving, staring down at him with a vexed expression that earns you a smirk. Asshole.

Your eyes watch the way his adam's apple bobs when he swallows, clearing his throat. And then your hands are wrapped around it before he can toss another snide remark at you. You're sick of hearing him talk down to you, acting like you aren't making him feel good when you know that you are. 

You know it because every night he still finds his way into your room instead of your mom’s, he still stuffs his cock into your cunt, and he still pumps you full of his cum. 

Your fingers squeeze tight around his neck, digging into the skin and your lips quirk up at the strangled sound that Satoru makes. His own hands are now reaching for your wrists to yank you off of him and you use that exact moment to clench down around him. Your soft walls are strangling Satoru's cock harder than your violent grip around his throat.

It feels like you're trying to suck every inch of him back inside you, even as you lift your hips until just the tip of his cock is nestled between your folds. Then you drop back down onto his length so harsh and fast that you fall forward with a quiet moan, and he whimpers.

It's the tiniest sound, one so small and pathetic that you'd never imagine it could even be produced by someone of your dad's stature. 

You can't help but laugh, loud and mocking at Satoru's expense. Until his strong arms are wrapped around you, pinning you against his chest and forcing you to release your hold on him. 

He doesn't even grace you with a minute to process the change in position before his feet are planted on the bed beneath you and his hips are drilling into yours. Every time Satoru fucks up into you, he makes sure to pull you down too, meeting his own thrusts so that you have to feel all of him buried inside your pussy. 

Your whines get louder, slipping into his ear as you're tucked against him, unable to do anything but try to breathe through it while he ruins you. 

"What happened, not laughing anymore?" he teases, his breath hot as is fans against the side of your face. 

It's always like this when you're reminded how much bigger he is, how much stronger he is than you. You forget after spending the day together when he makes you giggle, talking to you so sweetly, doting on you like any other good father. And it hits like a slap in the face each time he shows you this other side of him.

"I hate you!" you cry as your eyes screw shut. "I ha—shit, oh god.”

"No you don't, baby." Satoru brings a hand up to the back of your head, cradling it against his body in a way that's so confusingly comforting and condescending. "You're so wet for me, hear it? You don't hate your dad, you love me." 

It's fucked up how right he is. No matter how he treats you, you're still going to be soaking his cock all the same. 

"I know my sweet girl just wants to make her dad feel good, I know she's trying." 

His words are almost convincing enough to seem genuine, especially when he tells you that he's "still proud of you anyways."

"You're so—," you pant, a moan cutting you off after a particularly cruel thrust, "fucking mean."

[tomieily]

Jealous Type

Content: Satoru is a second year at Jujutsu Tech High, he isn't the type to do relationships, he thinks they're a waste of time, but that was before he met one of the first years.

He can't help but be jealous of his friend Haibara, who spends a lot of time with you, making him wonder if you're together.

Warnings: Fluff, canon au, female reader, jealousy, Satoru is a bit shy

Credits: divider-@cursed-carmine

Satoru always thought relationships were a waste of time, and considering the fact that he's a sorcerer they would be a hindrance as well.

That was what he thought before the first years were welcomed to Jujutsu Tech High.

The way you smiled, your prettily styled hair, everything about you caught his attention the moment you entered the classroom along side Nanami and Haibara, the other first years.

You were a total ray of sunshine, laughed at the smallest things and he loved your big appetite, it reminded both the group and himself about him.

So here you are together, with Suguru, Shoko, Haibara and Nanami, hanging out in Tokyo.

"Guys we should check out the new pastry shop that opened downtown, I heard they make really good mochi and cakes" You proposed excitedly with your usual big smile plastered on your face.

Satoru walked by your side with a blue popsicle on hand, his eyes inspected carefully your face from behind the round glasses "Hell yeah!" He retornered, similarly excited to go. As much as he loves eating, fulfilling your requests is his priority.

Suguru looked back at the two of you with a mixed express between disgust and confusion "We've already eaten like three time, aren't you full?" You and Satoru just scoffed playfully in sync.

"I still have plenty of space left, and even if I was full there will always be space for mochi" You chuckled at your own words, that sound that Satoru loved so much to hear, it was soothing to him, even when you laugh like a hyena.

"Yeah, don't ruin the fun will you Suguru?" Satoru joked with an annoying giggling "If your little tummy is already full you can gladly sit and watch as we eat" Suguru rolled his eyes at the joke.

Haibara slowed down in his track and pulled besides you, leaning down a little bit to whisper something in your ear to which you giggled.

Satoru noticed as fast as the light, his eyebrows stitching together, although it was barely visible behind the glasses "Jealous?" Shoko asked really softly, loud enough for Satoru only to hear, with a smug expression "Me? Jealous? Of what exactly" He brushed it off like nothing, knowing damn well his heartbeat increased significantly whenever Haibara got too close to you, he knew it was wrong, Haibara was his friend but he couldn't help it.

"You know of what, you look like you're about to pull a red on Haibara whenever he talks to her" His cheeks flushed a little at Shoko's accuse "You shouldn't be so jealous, you know, she told me she doesn't like jealous guys" Satoru's face became entirely red.

At the pastry shop, Shoko, Suguru and Nanami sat at a table while you, Satoru and Haibara ordered something to eat.

You slipped your hand inside your pocket, to pay for your large potion of mochi, vanilla ice cream with caramel and a slice of strawberry cake, your face completely changed from it's usual joyfulness to pure distress when you realized you didn't have enough money.

Both Satoru and Haibara noticed the change in your expression "What's wrong?" Haibara asked first, before Satoru could even part his lips to speak.

"I don't have enough money" You scrunched your nose with a pout, you were really excited to eat everything and this really ruined your mood.

Haibara smiled at you kindly "Don't worry I-" he got interrupted abruptly by Satoru who already pulled out his card "I will pay for it!" His smile was wider and brighter than the sun, both you and Haibara noticed his quite rude interruption but didn't say anything, it's Satoru after all, nothing new.

After paying the three of you walked back to the other three, you sat next to Haibara, which bothered Satoru a little, well more than just a little.

"Tomorrow evening we're going to the cinema, are you two gonna tag along?" Shoko asked you and Haibara "Sorry we aren't, me and Haibara already planned to play video games together in my dorm" Your words made Satoru's fingers tighten around the fork.

Shoko and Suguru exchanged looks, viewing this as the perfect moment to tease Satoru "Is that so? You two have been spending a lot of time together, huh?" Suguru started, his eyes keeping track of Satoru's and your reaction.

You raised an eyebrow at the teasing, genuinely confused "Huh? What do you mean?"

Shoko now added herself to the teasing "You and Haibara spend a lot of time together, alone and you know, whisper things to each other, is there anything you guys want to tell us?"

You and Haibara look at each other with pure confusion before busting out in laugher "You guys really think like that? C'mon we're practically like siblings" Haibara said, still giggling.

Satoru felt his heartbeat slow down a bit, even after Haibara's words, Shoko and Suguru still didn't stop teasing him "Well that's great because Satoru really li-" "What are you two gonna play? I wanna play videogames too!" His voice was loud, to cover up what Suguru was about to say.

Your eyes lit up at the question, Suguru and Shoko noticed, but weren't planning on telling Satoru, he would never stop talking about it otherwise.

"Really? You're coming? We don't exactly know yet but we'll be playing games like Resident evil 4 and Mario Kart DS" Your voice raised a bit with excitement.

Obviously Satoru didn't knock on your door the next evening with the intent of playing video games for hours, he was here to be with you and maybe know a more about your relationship with Haibara.

You, Satoru and Haibara have been playing for about 30 minutes now, you sitting besides Haibara and Satoru's eyes that couldn't leave the scene, going from admiring you to staring with pure jealousy the interactions between the two of you

At this point it's been around 3 hours since you guys started playing, although you wanted to play more the tiredness was impossibe to ignore.

You yawned, covering your mouth with a hand and if the devil himself personally hated Satoru, you fell to the side, your head resting on Haibara's shoulder who didn't react, like this was something you two did constantly.

Satoru couldn't ignore the ache in his heart, tagging along you two was an horrible decision, it only fueld his jealousy and probably gave him a heartbreak.

Haibara grabbed a blanket that was near and pulled it over the two of you. "I'm tired too, are you gonna sleep here?" He asked, looking at Satoru, who had his mind filled with thoughts of all kinds but in the end decided to spend the night here.

You had your head on Haibara's shoulder while he had his head on top of yours, now that you both were sleeping Satoru could finally stop faking a grin, now looking extremely irritated, watching you sleep like that with him made him even more frustrated, he really needed some fresh air.

He got up and gently opened your dorm's door, walking towards the courtyard, he sat there for a few minutes before a familiar voice called him out.

"Satoru?" He turned around, you were standing there, looking sleepy. "You can't sleep?" You walked closer, sitting next to him, he tried to hide his red cheeks but failed miserably.

"No it's not that.. well yeah it's that" His eyes avoided yours even if you were trying to take a good look at his face "Can I ask you something?" You smiled at the request and nodded with a smile "Of course you can! What is it?"

"Do you like Haibara?"

The was a rather long silence between the two of you, that was making Satoru's heart race.

"If I like Haibara? Well no"

He could just stop there, be grateful that at least you answered his question but his mouth moved before he could stop

"So like nothing else? I mean you two are really close"

You let out a chuckle and moved a bit closer, almost invading his personal space. "For me Haibara is like a brother and I'm like a sister to him, we have been friends since elementary school, I see why you would think we are in a romantic relationship but we are just really comfortable with each other"

Another long silence stretched, this one was definitely more awkward, you usually aren't affected by moments like these, but this one definitely was hitting, mostly because you knew why Satoru felt that way.

"I know you like me, Satoru" The words came out more bold than intended.

He immediately turned his head towards you, his face now completely red and confused "W-what?" You laughed internally at his reacting, it was cute.

"If I have to be honest, Suguru told me like a few weeks ago" His nose scrunched a little while his eyebrows knit together.

Suguru? Of course it was him, I swear I'm gonna kil- "But that's okay because I like you too, Satoru" He went completely still, lips parted from the disbelief.

"Huh?"

"I said I like you too" You repeated with a grin this time, your face moving closer to his, you were loving his reaction.

"I usually don't like the jealous type of men but you might be an exception Satoru Gojo"

With that your lips crashed together, it was sloppy and messy at first but both of you started to get used to it, becoming deeper and more passionate.

After what felt like a whole eternity you pulled way, your lips puffy and red from the kiss, there was a lot to say but at the same time both of you were speechless.

"So it's that a yes?" You tilted your head at his question, confused. "Are we like dating now?" You couldn't hold your laugh back, nodding eagerly, giving him another peck on the lips.

"Yes, we are"

[gojofucker7]

SO CUTE

[l3laniii]

Sitting on Satoru Gojo’s lap while he plays video games until…

MDNI 18+

Content hums vibrate through your throat as you sit comfortably on Satoru Gojo’s lap. The subtle noise of in-game actions can be heard, most notably a ssssst-BANG followed by Satoru’s complaints about how creepers shouldn’t exist, because ‘don’t they know who they’re messing with?’.

After taking a moment to giggle to yourself and briefly admire how his face looks with a clenched jaw and furrowed brows, your focus goes back to the video you were previously watching on your phone. During the video, a song you particularly love starts to play, and in response you happily move your hips to the beat.

Satoru’s hushed grunts can be heard as he abruptly grabs your hips with two strong hands.

“Oh!” You exclaim as you suddenly stop your movement and turn to face him, confusion with a slight pink blush adorning your cheeks.

Only now do you notice how Satoru’s head has been thrown back, with his neck showing entirely. Your eyes can’t help but flicker to it for a moment, but your gaze snaps to his face before he grumbles,

“Why’d you stop?”

Your blush deepens as your eyebrows raise slightly,

“Because I thought I was hurting you.” You sheepishly admit. His expression matches yours, except the tips of his ears are flushed with a subtle pink, and the corners of his mouth are turned slightly upward.

“Just keep going.” Satoru insists as he firmly grabs your thighs, trailing one of his hands tantalisingly slow between them, maintaining eye contact as he does so.

Your breath hitches before you regain your composure, responding to the best of your ability,

“Yes Satoru, whatever you want.”

Sorry if this is a bit cringe! Please send requests to my ask ~ Masterlist if you’re interested ^^

[kingkatsuki]

Secrets | Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

This is a thirst post that got out of hand, thank you for the ask, Anon!💕

Pairing: stepdad!Bakugou x f!Reader

Warnings: 18+, pseudo-incest, big age gap (reader in her 20s, Bakugou mid 40s) cheating, male masturbation, slight somnophilia, cunnilingus, implied!first time, creampie.

Word Count: 4.2k.

Bakugou couldn’t deny what he was doing was wrong, he was an intelligent man. But there was just something so alluring about you that made it so difficult for him to stop. The nights he lay in bed now plagued with thoughts of you as his thick cock stirred between his strong thighs. Often causing him to get up in the small hours of the morning just to relieve himself, sometimes passing by your room in the hopes you’d gone to sleep in a compromising position again.

He loved hearing you complain about the house being too hot, making you go to sleep in the skimpiest pyjama sets known to man, so much skin on display there was really no point in even wearing anything. Bakugou stared at you with glee when he realised his plan had worked, leaving the thermostat at an uncomfortable temperature and telling you that he promised he’d fix it, just for you.

Your body sprawled out invitingly for him on the bed, kicking the covers off yourself during the night as you lay on your side. One of your thick thighs over the other as your shorts pulled up between your round cheeks, wishing he could run the heavy length of his cock between them. His vermilion eyes moving towards the swell of your breast, barely concealed beneath the matching pyjama shirt. Groaning as he palmed himself through his shorts, the underside of your tits more defined in this position. Your darkened areolas peeking out beneath the top invitingly, making him want to reach out and tug the fabric up.

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[kingkatsuki]

Pool Party | Bakugou Katsuki x Kirishima Eijirou x Reader

Here I am with another thirst post that got out of hand. One day I will exercise self-control but today is not that day. Thank you to Anon for sending this request in:

Pairing: stepdad!Bakugou Katsuki x uncle!Kirishima Eijirou x f!Reader

Warnings: 18+, pseudo incest, big age gap (reader in her 20s, Bakugou + Kirishima mid 40s), cheating, panty sniffing, alcohol consumption, dub-con (due to intoxication), coercion, blowjobs, thigh riding, unprotected sex, creampie.

Word Count: 3.3k.

You had to have known what you were doing when you stepped into the garden in those tiny pieces of fabric that shouldn’t be allowed to be called a swimsuit. The bikini clinging to your curves as both men finished their conversations. They focus entirely on you as you place a towel down on one of the sun loungers. Giving them both a smile as you came towards them, there was something alluring about having two seasoned Pro-Heroes in your back garden barely clothed so you had to make the most of it. Especially with the bright smile Kirishima gave you as you came closer, your eyes roaming the expanse of his body. Mapping out every gash and scar that marred his bare skin, leaning your body against the back of Bakugou’s chair as you leaned over him, your breasts brushing the back of his head as his buzzed locks tickled your skin.

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[kingkatsuki]

Somnophilia | Kirishima Eijirou x Reader

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 - 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠.

Kinktober masterlist.

I’m so sorry I don’t have time to proofread this one I’m getting so behind😭

Summary: Kirishima has always had a crush on you, but never even thought of making a move on you because you were Bakugou’s step-daughter, but with the help of some liquid courage he decides to kiss you goodnight.

Pairing: Kirishima Eijirou x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, pseudo-incest, dubcon (just to be safe), age gap (Kiri is 40+ reader is mid-20s), Pervy Kirishima, somnophilia, intoxication, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, creampie.

Word Count: 4.4k.

It had to be the liquor talking, the moment that Denki had started handing out shots of whisky to the room is the moment he felt his self-constraint begin to waver. Trying to focus on the party bustling downstairs but his mind continued to cycle back to you, wondering exactly what you were doing upstairs while the loud roar of laughter sounded from Bakugou’s living room.

The problem Kirishima had was that no one could ever compare to you. There was just something about you that made it difficult for him to think of another person, completely captivating him and ruining his chances of having a relationship with anyone else. Finding himself coming up with more excuses to hang out at Bakugou’s house just so he could catch some glimpses of you, so glad that even in your twenties you’d decided to continue living at home with your parents.

Those pretty smiles that would stretch across your face whenever you saw him, wrapping your arms around your neck as you stood on tip-toes to hug his hulking frame. A blatant indication of the size difference between you both, and a thought that had a rush of blood flooding straight to his cock. The number of times he’d stroked himself raw to the thought of you was ridiculous, unable to satiate that ache between his thighs whenever he thought about you.

Excusing himself from the party as he motioned that he was going to the bathroom, the room spinning as he stood upright. Trying to ignore the throb in his cranium as he made his way up the stairs towards your room.

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[kingkatsuki]

okay but what if we talked about the stepdad! thoughts…

katsuki knows that he shouldn’t touch you, that you’re off limits, that it’s taboo, but how could he keep his hands to himself when you look like that? it’s all he could do to not slip his cock out and into your cute pussy when you come and sit right in his lap, practicing restraint he’s never had to before.

his guilt can be tamed when all you do about it is dry hump each other, getting off through your clothes, leaving him a little wet stain on his bulge and leaving you a bit weak in the knees.

the problem is, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to leave you alone after this.

Warnings: 18+, pseudo-incest, step-dad!Bakugou, “just the tip”, dry humping.

Bakugou glanced down between your bodies to see the darkened patch against his grey sweats, a sign of just how needy and desperate you are for him. His tongue slips out to wet his lips as he felt your hand grab for his crotch again, palming his growing bulge as he swiftly captured your wrist in a large palm.

He knew it was wrong, if anyone found out about his relationship with his pretty step-daughter this could be career damaging. But you made it difficult to think straight when you’d walk around in one of his old shirts and a pair of pretty panties, sitting on his lap to watch a movie when he was home from work. Deliberately showering with the door open and he was certain you didn’t even have a bedroom door for the amount you’d leave it open.

You were testing every single inch of his resolve right now, he was executing such levels of restraint he should be named a saint. But this was surely better than some spotty boy your age touching you, tainting you. They didn’t deserve you, the douchebags you’d bring home would never be good enough for his little girl. You deserved someone to treat you like the princess that you are, someone that’ll make you feel good.

“Daddy,” Shit, there you went again saying it like that. His cock throbbing in response as you bit down on your bottom lip, staring up at him through pretty lashes as you wrapped your legs around his hips. Your thick thighs caging him in as you pulled him closer, his hand dropping your wrist in favour of clutching the counter on either side of your hips. You clenched your thighs to make sure he couldn’t move away, even if he had wanted to. More and more of his resolve was slowly beginning to crumble as you placed gentle kisses against his jaw, his rough stubble tickling you as you left lines of pink shiny gloss in your wake.

“Please, daddy.” You knew exactly what you were doing, you little mix. You had the same sultry voice you used every time you wanted something from him, and he always gave it to you— whatever it was, “Just the tip.”

“Shit,” Bakugou sucked in a breath as his pelvis bucked into you erratically, unable to control his hips as you felt his bulge press against your wet heat, “We both know that’s not true, my greedy girl.”

“No please, I promise.” You continued, the desperate whine in your voice had his cock throbbing as he imagined how tight, wet and slick your pretty pussy would feel, “Wanna cum so bad.”

“Oh, Daddy’ll make you cum, princess.” Bakugou cooed, rutting his hips against your crotch as you gasped in response. Arms weaving around his broad shoulders for leverage as you began a sloppy pace, selfishly seeking your own pleasure as you focused your movements against your puffy clit.

“Look at these,” Bakugou growled, his finger slipping between the tiny piece of fabric against your crotch, “Fuckin’ filthy.”

You mewled at his words, Bakugou’s thumbs slipping into the hem of his sweats just enough to free his swollen cock as you instantly reached for it.

“Uh-uh. What did I say?” He clicked his tongue as you gave him a childish pout that broke into a gasp as he slapped the heavy weight of it against your slit, “Ya never listen.”

Bakugou slipped his thick cock between the crotch of your panties, pressing his length between your messy folds as he began a languid pace, rubbing the length of his cock through your slick as you met his movements. Rolling your hips to give your clit the stimulation it craved as your nails dug into his broad shoulders.

“Daddy’ll make ya cum, but you gotta promise to be good, okay?”

“Okay,” You parroted, nodding before he’d even finished talking.

Bakugou continued rutting his hips against you, pulling more pretty noises from between your lips as he pressed sloppy kisses against your neck. But of course this wasn’t enough for you, you were too fucking greedy as he felt your hand sneak between your bodies and press against his leaking head, pushing it lower as it caught against your tight hole. Already feeling the tight stretch of you as he hovered on the edge of resolve, one tiny rut of his hips and he’d be sheathed inside you. A fantasy he’d spent many nights fisting his cock to as he imagined what it would be like to bury himself deep inside your pretty little pussy.

But you weren’t going to give him the choice, your thighs tugging him closer as you felt him begin to stretch you out as he pulled back to watch his cock disappear inside you.

You were going to be the death of him.

[tired-biscuit]

I licked it so it’s mine

pairing: stepbrother!yuuji/fem!reader

premise: After a long day of work, you decide to make use of the empty house by having some drinks and a movie night with your older stepbrother. Eventually, one drink turns into two, two become three, and so on. As the buzz of the alcohol progressively fills you with more and more courage, interesting things commence.

cw: 18+ MDNI. stepcest, ‘in the flurry of the moment’ setting, no curses AU, characters are in their 20s, intoxication, dubcon, implied corruption, coersion and pressuring from reader, descriptions of size difference, manhandling and roughness — poor yuuji gets a little too into it in the end.

wc: 6.7k

divider credit: @/adornedwithlight

———

Your big stepbrother Yuuji is likeable. He always has been.

To be fair, what is there not to like? When it comes to his looks, Yuuji is tall, handsome, a proud owner of a pair of pretty honey-coloured eyes that make him resemble a puppy, and an even prettier smile. Every summer, his skin gets this wonderful, almost golden tan that makes him outright glow from within, and his face gets sun-kissed, causing his already rosy cheeks to get dotted with tiny, barely visible freckles that gather under his eyes and only enhance his cuteness.

However, after living with him for so long, you’ve since learned that he rarely actually pays attention to his appearance, much less dresses to impress.

After all, Yuuji is a simple man. He does not care about clothes besides the level of comfort they provide, and yet he still somehow manages to achieve victory. Catching girls checking him out when he’s in nothing but his trusty pair of sweatpants and an old T-shirt is a common occurrence. Even listening to flustered whispers and giggles has turned into a regular thing at this point.

On top of all that, he’s also nice. Kind and open and warm – you could use so many more positive words to describe your stepbrother’s wonderful personality, but you’re pretty sure that they’d never do it justice. Perhaps the only bad thing you could say about him is that he’s too nice. Too helpful and giving.

Especially towards the people who don’t deserve it.

And as you watch him from the corner of your eye now, hanging out at the park and licking the ice cream that he’d treated you to as a reward for beating him in his favourite video game, you try to consider yourself as one of the people who do deserve his everlasting kindness. Who do deserve to be treated nicely by him, and to hear the laughter in his voice, and to accept his almost naive generosity.

It’s a nice day out today. The wooden park bench that you’re sitting on currently is warm from the setting sun that still filters through the leaves above your heads. Small, moving patches of light and shadow linger everywhere, causing you to stare, almost mesmerized, as some of them lazily continue to dance across your big brother’s face.

Yuuji’s arms are splayed wide open and draped on either side of the worn backrest that you’re both leaning against. He’s finished his ice cream ages ago, so now he’s got his legs outstretched and his head angled up towards the sky, enjoying the peaceful tranquility that this year’s summer brings. 

There are quite a few people out and about in the park during this time of day – most of them joggers and dog walkers that are using the slightly cooler temperatures to their benefit – but if you listen closely, you can make out distant shouting and laughter coming from a group of children who are occupying the playground that’s on the other side of the trees.

The sound makes you feel kind of old, so you zero in on your sandals to keep yourself busy.

“Remember when you used to scream like that?”

“What?” 

When you turn your head to the side again, Yuuji’s gaze looks expectant.

“Back when we were kids,” he explains, jerking his chin towards the direction of the playground. “You got all shrieky and high-pitched whenever it was my turn to chase you, remember? Made you sound like a deflating balloon just by running in your direction.”

“Oh!” You take another lick of your ice cream, fully flattening the scoop before sinking your teeth into the edge of the cone. The scent of strawberries fills your nose in an instant. “In my defense, that probably happened because I didn’t like playing tag with you all that much.” 

He quirks an eyebrow at this, intrigued. “How so?”

“Well, for starters, your legs were longer than mine, which made you catch up so fast that it wasn’t fun for me anymore. Aaand your hands were also always sticky for some reason,” you reply, still chewing on the wafer. “It was gross.”

“Wow, okay.” He rolls his eyes but it immediately gets followed by a brief chuckle that escapes his lips. “Excuse me for trying to be a little bit sentimental with my clean freak of a baby sister.”

“I’m normal… You’re just nasty,” you fire back, smiling when he goes to playfully shove you.

His hand is warm when it lands on your shoulder; so warm, in fact, that you can feel the rise in temperature even through the sleeve of the thin, cropped T-shirt that you’ve put on this morning. 

It doesn’t take you by surprise. For as long as you’ve known him, Yuuji has been one to have blood as hot as molten lava running through his veins. You’re unsure how he survives it whenever the weather is scorching hot, like today for example – August has always proved to be a bitch whenever it comes to heat – but so far he seems to be doing just fine.

And while it may be weird to some, him being hot-blooded is the reason why you sometimes like to drag him into your bed during the winter months, when it’s cold and you come back home from work feeling like your toes have turned half-frozen in your shoes. Besides being provided with good company, he’s also like your own personal heater.

And that’s it. There’s nothing else to it; how could it be when he’s your stepbrother, for crying out loud! You grew up together and have lived under the same roof for years. He’s walked into your room just to leave the lights on and the door open so many times. You’ve endured his godawful Fortnite phase and have seen him be at his worst just as he did with you. The only feelings that you harbour for him are strictly platonic. 

You’re both pretty set on that.

“I should take that ice cream from ya as a form of punishment for being so mean to me,” said stepbrother teases now, pulling you back from your thoughts. When you look up at him, he’s grinning like a little boy. From ear to ear and in a way that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners.

Cute.

“Nu-uh,” you respond, allowing the evidently distrustful tone to lace your voice. “I licked it so it’s mine.”

“Tsch.” He clicks his tongue against his teeth. “Like that’s ever been an issue before. C’mon, give.” 

“It is for me because unlike you, I’m not- Hey!” Before you can finish your sentence, he swipes the ice cream from your hand, successfully stealing it right in front of your nose.

You glare at him now, brow slightly furrowed in annoyance, as Yuuji proceeds to lick the melting sweet with exaggerated delight. Since whatever was left of the scoop sank deeper into the cone, you realize that you’re unexpectedly intrigued by the fact that he needs to push his tongue out a little more to get to it. 

And he does; of course he does. He twirls it across the flat, creamy surface, and it’s not long before the inside of his mouth is coated in milky pink and there’s a hum of overly satisfied approval sounding from the back of his throat.

You’re unsure how to feel about the entire thing, but you definitely don’t dwell on it.

“Mmm,” he purrs, squeezing his eyes shut. He even makes sure to go as far as to smack his lips. “Mmm-mmm-mm! So good.”

For whatever reason, you feel your stomach do a weird spin as you listen to the sounds he’s making now. It’s like there’s an instant flash of heat searing through your body, similar to the pesky one that you get in the middle of the night when you’re hormonal and on your period, but before you can even properly acknowledge it, it’s gone as fast as it came.

“Again: you’re so gross,” you manage to say with a huff that’s supposed to be disapproving but doesn’t sound like that at all. The shake of your head that you add to the jab also feels somewhat unnatural. Every one of your mannerisms does, actually.

Yuuji, seemingly blissfully ignorant of your inner turmoil, laughs before he takes a giant bite out of the side of the cone and finally hands it back to you.

“Hey, at least my hands ain’t sticky this time.”

———

The house is empty when you come back home that evening.

This too is not much of a surprise, really. Your parents have been gone for the last couple of days, enjoying their yearly vacation to the seaside that neither you nor Yuuji could attend this time because of your work schedules. 

So while your mom and his dad are basking in the sun and drinking sugary cocktails, you’re waking up at six in the morning every day to make it to your dull desk job in time, and he’s stuck flipping burgers at McDonalds and honing his social skills in the drive-through booth for eight hours every day.

Poor, poor you.

“Did you see the drinks they’re having over there? Gosh,” Yuuji grumbles on this exact topic as he throws himself onto the couch and flicks the TV on. His expression looks mildly conflicted at the list of movies he’s being offered by the streaming service you’re both leeching off of, but it eases back into neutral as soon as he rests his feet atop the coffee table and crosses his ankles. “They even had those fancy umbrellas on the top and everythin’.”

“There, there,” you say, quickly patting his knee before sitting down beside him. You’re not sure why, but you pay extra attention to the small sliver of distance that you keep between his leg and your own now. The feeling from earlier didn’t fully go away yet, so touching him or him touching you still feels kind of odd.

Meanwhile, Yuuji doesn’t seem to acknowledge it at all, because now he’s resting his head against your shoulder, invading your personal space whilst he pouts.

The action is nothing unusual for him – it’s normal, he does it all the time – and yet you still swallow thickly, trying to ignore the sudden hyper awareness. 

“What is it now, you big baby?” you manage to muster out, taking the remote from him.

“Eh… It’s nothing,” he says.

“Aha,” you say.

“Well… It’s just that I want nachos and cocktails with fancy umbrellas, too!” he bristles at your prodding, pressing the side of his face even further into your shoulder. His hair tickles your cheek because of it.

“We have nachos at home,” you utter, trying to avoid the ticklish sensation.

“Yeah. Shitty tortilla chips that come in a bag, with a side of tasteless dip from the fridge,” he quips. “Yum.”

You stifle your laughter. He’s making such a big deal out of a silly thing like nachos. “I’m pretty sure they all come in a bag, Yuu… Come to think of it, theirs are probably stored in one of those big, wholesale bags that most food places get.”

“Well, I want the wholesale ones, then.”

“You’re pretty set on this, huh?”

He just gives you a look.

“Okay, okay, okay,” you ramble, pulling back just enough to make him lift his head and look at you properly. “How about… we try to make semi-decent nachos and cocktails with what we have, and have ourselves a little movie night since we’re both off work tomorrow and we definitely deserve it after all the pain and suffering we’re going through?”

Yuuji muses. “All you do at your job is sit behind a desk all day.”

You feel your eyes narrow. “So?”

“So,” he says, sounding smug. “I’d hardly call that pain and suffering.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you chide. “I wasn’t aware that your job also consisted of crawling underneath barbed wire and coming face to face with excruciating death between all those burgers you flip.”

He pokes you in the side for the insult. After jumping a little bit at the ticklish sensation, you make sure to immediately return the favour.

“Do you want those cocktails or not, Ronald McDonald?”

Yuuji stretches his arms above his head and yawns before he gets ready to stand up. “Yeah, yeah… Let’s make ‘em fancy.”

He follows you into the kitchen then, where you both work to recreate the vacation food and drinks to the best of your – and your pantry’s – capabilities. 

The nachos end up being surprisingly decent after you sprinkle some shredded cheese on top and give them a spin in the microwave. The cocktails, on the other hand, are a mixture of cheap wine from the corner store and coke, adorned with pieces of sliced pineapple at the top because you sadly ran out of cute paper umbrellas, much to Yuuji’s disappointment.

Though in the end, everything works out just fine.

You have yourselves a nice, perhaps you could even call it relaxing kind of evening. You change into your comfortable pyjama shorts and tank top, he gets rid of his T-shirt because he prefers being shirtless during the summer, and you play a couple rounds of his favourite game again; all of which you lose because Yuuji decides that he isn’t holding back this time. Afterwards, you watch a movie that isn’t all that good necessarily, but isn’t half bad either, and take rather hefty sips of your makeshift cocktails.

By the time the credits start to roll, you’re both feeling a little buzzed and warm in the face. Neither of you feels like calling it a night just yet, though – being off work the next day at the same time happens so rarely, after all – so you decide on watching something equally as uneventful and drinking some more.

So that is how both yourself and Yuuji end up drinking more than you’d initially planned. The alcohol becomes easier to swallow down when you’ve already numbed out your taste buds and have adapted them to the cheap, shitty wine flavour. It even makes the pineapple slices look cool.

And now you’re both drunk. Not shitfaced, per se, but definitely more than tipsy. Enough that it’s making your vision a little bit blurry around the edges, your limbs soft and pliant, and your mind fuzzy. Enough that it’s making you feel like you could do just about anything you’d set your mind to.

You’re both giggling like morons as you sit cross-legged and face each other on the couch. He’s desperately trying to tell you a story about one of his co-workers, who, according to him, is supposed to be very weird, but he keeps on slurring his words and keeps on losing track so often that it’s making the entire thing outright incomprehensive.

“Dude-” Your voice falters as yet another set of giggles pushes its way out. Goddamn alcohol. “You have got to stop laughing and tell me whatever it is you want to tell me about this weirdo, because if you don’t, I swear to god that I’m going to fucking lose my shit.”

“Listen… Jus’ listen-” 

“I am listening, you dumbass!” you interrupt, reaching over to flick his forehead. He flinches at the action.

“No, but like,” he mumbles now, rubbing the aching spot. “I want to tell you, but at the same time… I kind of don’t.”

This instantly succeeds in sparking your interest. There’s something he’s unsure about telling you? How curious; you tell each other everything!

You lean forward slightly, resting your elbows on your knees. “How so?”

Yuuji’s eyes flicker towards the television for a quick second. The movie is still playing – it bathes half of his face with light and the other half in shadows. 

Much to your bafflement, he sheepishly bites his lip before he says, “‘Cause it’s a secret.”

“A secret? Really?” You groan as you grab the small decorative pillow just so that you can throw it his way. Despite his intoxicated state, he’s still rather quick to deflect it. It lands on the ground soundlessly.

“What was that for?” he asks now, trying not to laugh.

“Oh, I dunno,” you say, bristling. “Did it maybe ever cross your mind that telling me that is only gonna make me want to hear it more?”

“I mean,” he says, scratching the back of his head and shrugging. “I guess…?”

You give him a pointed glare. “You know how much I love secrets, Yuu!”

“I know.”

“Then tell me!”

“No.”

You pout in answer, clearly unsatisfied.

Yuuji looks at you, his expression slipping into something that’s a bit more sincere and apologetic. He watches as you continue to avoid eye contact and push out your bottom lip, clearly trying to appear upset as much as you possibly can in order to get him to change his mind.

Sooner or later, it ends up working.

A person like him is so giving… Who is he to ever tell you no?

“Oh, fine,” he says, sighing with defeat. “Just pinky promise that you won’t tell anyone, okay?”

Your grin is pleasantly lazy because of the alcohol that’s still coursing your veins as you chirp, “Of course.”

He hooks your pinkies together and shakes them from side to side lightly as if it’ll help solidify the promise better.

“So, what’s the secret?” you ask when you pull your hand back and use it to support your cheek.

After a short moment of silence, he finally forces himself to blurt out, “My co-worker, he, uh… He thinks you’re hot.”

You stare at him, arching one eyebrow. “Wait, that’s it?”

Yuuji can feel his entire face tingling with heat now. The blush that steadily continues to bloom makes his skin slightly itchy, but he refrains from scratching it. “Yeah, that’s it.”

You watch him closely. 

“What?” he inquires, not liking the fact that you aren’t saying anything. The flush of red has crept down to his neck now.

“You’re lying,” you reply at long last, expression blank.

He sputters when he inhales a sharp breath, ready to defend himself. “Am not!”

You throw another pillow at him. He avoids this one, too. “Are too!”

“Stop throwing stuff at me!”

“I will, if you tell me the secret!”

“I already did!”

“The actual secret, dumbass!”

“Fine… Fine! Ugh,” he groans, scrubbing a hand over his face. “He also said that, umm…”

You enthusiastically gesture at him to continue when his voice fades into nothing again. Curiosity is threatening to eat you alive at this point. “Yes? He said what?”

“He said-” His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows thickly. “He basically told me that if you were his stepsister, that he would’ve been all over you ages ago. Or whatever.”

You stare at him once more. He stares right back.

“What?” he asks again, this time slightly more nervous. His pupils are huge and the blush is starting to make him sweat. “What is it?”

After a moment that seems like forever, you repeat, “...That’s it?”

Yuuji feels like his heart has dropped to his ass. “What d’you mean that’s it?!”

“Exactly what I said,” you say, shrugging. “Your co-worker has a ‘Oh no, stepbro, I’m stuck’ fantasy. So what?”

“I-” Yuuji’s eyebrows draw so tightly together until there’s a small v etched between them. He pauses for a long time before he says, “Don’t you think that’s weird, though?”

“Not really.” You take another small sip from your glass and place it back onto the coffee table. “I mean, have you never noticed how popular it is in porn? Lots of people are into that kind of stuff.”

“N-no…” He stutters, somehow succeeding in turning even redder in the face. “I don’t-”

“Watch porn?” you offer quickly, already rolling your eyes.

“Not porn like that,” he quips, suddenly sounding uncharacteristically snippy. 

You chuckle at the tone he uses, attempting to tame the upward curl of your lips. Things are getting interesting and dirty – something you don’t get to encounter a lot whenever it comes to golden boy over here. “Well, what kind of porn do you watch, then?”

Oh, that is very bold. If it weren’t for the liquid courage, you doubt you’d dare ask the question. But it’s out in the open now.

Hanging in the tense air that’s between you two. Waiting. Preying.

“Not the stepsister kind,” he says in a low mutter, surprising you that he even chose to answer. “I’m not into that.”

You can’t help but let the smile show now. “How can you know if you’ve never seen it?”

Yuuji gawks before letting out a nervous laugh. “...What?”

“I said,” you repeat, leaning ever so slightly closer. Enough to make him feel on edge, but not enough to scare him away. “How can you know that you’re not into it-” There’s another pause, another closing of distance. His freckles are visible now. “If you’ve never seen it? Hmm?”

“I just-” He tenses up when your knee bumps into his. The short moment of contact is electrifying for some reason; it jumpstarts his heart into a far quicker rhythm. “I just, uh, do.”

You look him directly in his sweet honey eyes. “Yeah?”

And he immediately rushes to break eye contact. “Yeah.”

“You know,” you trail off innocently, patting his knee this time instead of ‘accidentally’ bumping it. Unlike before, though, your hand remains on his leg. “For someone who swears up and down to not be into it… You really don’t sound so sure about it to me.”

“Well, I am,” he protests in a heartbeat, however the bite that’s supposed to be in the statement isn’t quite there. 

The reason behind it might be because he’s quite tipsy and can’t bring himself to be firm with you. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s because he’s staring at his lap when he says it; right at the spot where you’re still touching him.

Your hand feels so warm as it sits on his thigh. And pleasant. 

He doesn’t exactly… want it to go away.

You watch as he huffs in defeat and shakes his head with evident frustration the thought must have evoked. It causes a giggle to bubble up your throat from how entertained you are. You don’t even try to stop it this time.

He could tell you off, call you names, push you away, whatever… But he doesn’t. 

No, he’s just too good of a big brother.

So you allow the flat of your palms to rest on both of his knees now. Still careful, though not nearly as much as before. Meanwhile, your own knees dig into the softness of the couch as you readjust your weight forward so that you can lift yourself just enough to be eye level with him.

Guilty anticipation pools inside his gut and turns him frazzled when you use the momentum to invade his personal space even further. All of a sudden, you find yourself nose to nose with your cutesy stepbrother. Chest to chest. So close that he can feel the heat of your breath on his lips and smell the fading scent of your perfume mixing with thin layers of sweat and sunscreen. 

“Prove it, then,” you say. Your voice could barely be considered above a whisper but the silence that follows after it is so loud.

Yuuji gulps from how unnerving this entire situation has become. Gulps. “Prove… Prove what?”

“Prove that you’re not into it.”

Thump, thump, thump! His heart is going wild. “How?”

“Watch it with me.” You move your hands upwards ever so slightly as you speak the words, but it’s not long before you’re sliding them all the way up to his thighs. 

They’re strong, his legs, and the muscles in them flex and harden underneath your touch, making the lines of his gorgeous, so profoundly male-like physique all the more defined. The hairs there are lighter in colour and they’re silky smooth. They tickle the tips of your fingers when you finally let them settle at the very edge of his gym shorts. 

Digging your nails into his skin just enough to make him jump a little, you add, “Please?”

God, you’re so drunk and… something else. Your pupils are huge; so big that Yuuji swears he can see himself in them, and the laugh you let out a moment later is girlish and kind of breathless. 

And he, well, he just looks so goddamn confused in response to it. Like a little puppy that’s been caught doing something naughty and bad. Big, round eyes, twitchy upper lip and everything.

“I, umm… I dunno,” he chokes out finally. He feels like coughing so that he can clear his throat, but he somehow manages to stifle the annoying sensation. “I just… I’m not so sure about that-”

“Pleeease, Yuuji,” you repeat, pushing, pushing, pushing. You even start pouting right at him as a means to get him to budge. “I wanna!”

Fuck.

The whine that’s appeared in your voice now makes his cock involuntarily twitch. What the actual fuck, his dick is responding to you – his baby sister. Little by little, blood is rushing south; right below his waistline until he can feel warmth slowly taking over every inch of his lower half. He tries to make it stop, to put an end to it, to slow it down at the very least, but his efforts prove to be completely useless.

His throat feels scratchy and dry now from not allowing himself to cough, and his skin feels too tight on his face. It makes him rasp as he says, “You, uh, you wanna?”

“Mhmm,” you purr in a mere instant, squeezing his thighs again just the tiniest bit. Goddammit, since when did those parts start feeling so fucking sensitive? “Wanna… wanna see you start sweating a little when you realize that your dick is getting hard over dirty shit like stepcest, you know? Wanna prove you wrong.”

A second twitch, a second rush of blood. Yuuji’s stomach spins and tightens with anxiety. His nerves go haywire. With each passing second, he can feel his cock getting heavier in his shorts. Can feel pre-cum turning the front of his underwear more and more sticky. Can feel his mind going dizzy with quick-paced lust.

You’re just so goddamn close. Staring right at him, with your tits almost on full display in that tiny thing you call a shirt, and with that infuriating, shit-eating smirk plastered on your lips. Kneeling right between his legs, talking about stepbrothers fucking stepsisters, allowing your breaths to intermingle as if it’s no big deal.

But that’s not all. Besides being too close for comfort, he’s also pretty sure that you’re quietly hinting at the possibility of something happening tonight, like letting him stuff your pussy with his cock. Hell, forget stuffing – even just seeing it would be nice. 

Not that he’s ever thought about laying eyes on his sister’s cunt, much less filling it, but now that this entire thing is unfolding in real time, before his very eyes, and he swears that he can feel the tips of your fingers subtly brushing against the ridge of his hard-on over his clothes… He doesn’t feel like refusing the idea necessarily, if it were to actually happen.

Fuuuck!

“It-it won’t,” Yuuji stammers in one last attempt at keeping his sense of morality, however all he does is end up fumbling over his own damn self like some pathetic loser. He’s so red in the face, it’s obvious now. “I, ah, I already told you-”

His sentence gets interrupted by a sudden kiss that you press right onto his still half-open mouth. 

You don’t know what exactly it is that compels you to do it, but here you are. Kissing your big brother. Latching yourself to him. Offering him things you shouldn’t.

Oh, here you are, all right.

The kiss itself is clumsy, rash, idiotic. Your teeth clash as you hurry forward to wrap your arms around his neck, and there’s a small, muffled noise – that terribly sounds like a squeal of excitement – escaping your lips when his big hands find your waist and he yanks you forward until you’re fully seated on his lap.

One second ago you were merely looking at each other, tip-toeing the line but never quite overstepping it, and now you’re grinding against one another like animals in heat, tangling tongues and tasting each other’s spit. Everything happens so fast and it’s all based on pure instinct and executed with zero thinking, because if it happened any other way, you’d surely regret it.

He tastes like pineapple and the lousy chewing gum that he bought back at the corner store earlier in the afternoon but spat out pretty soon after. You shouldn’t find the odd combination of flavours that good, you know this, but right now the inside of his mouth tastes like sweet, sweet heaven.

And possible release.

“Fuck, Yuu,” you pant between messy kisses, running your fingers along his undercut. “You’re so hard, look… Proves me right, mm?”

Yuuji wants to tell you to shut up, to stop saying things like that, to stop making him feel both so guilty and turned on at the same time because it’s complicated and he doesn’t fucking know what to make of it.

But all he ends up saying instead is, “Yeah...”

Because, as always, he’s simply too good of a big brother. Too good to tell you no.

Especially when you’re right.

And even if your big brother’s cock is hiding underneath several layers of clothing, you can still feel it pressing firmly between your legs now. Thick and heavy and in urgent need of some tender affection; a little sisterly love, if you will. It’s making you grow more and more expectant of what’s to come. There’s no space for shame left.

His size seems promising – at least judging by the feel of it. Each time you push your weight against him, circling your hips a little, he responds by pushing you down even further with the help of his hands on your hips; spreading your folds slightly apart and allowing the seam of your shorts to dig straight into your clit.

Your breathing grows laboured because of it. Slowly but surely, you’re becoming a hot mess of mm’s and ahh’s. And Yuuji, poor, sweet Yuuji, is nowhere near to being any better after he’s forced to hear all of it.

He’s sweating like crazy. Is throbbing between his legs. Is trying to tame his pulse but it just keeps on hammering and ringing inside his ears. The blush is making his entire face itch all over again and his clothes feel too tight on his body. What else is there?

Oh, even his heart feels like it’s jammed itself inside his throat when he pulls back just enough to break the string of saliva that’s bridging the narrow space between your mouths and asks, “You sure you wanna do this?”

“Just fuck me already, god,” you hiss in response. You’re so sexually frustrated that it’s making you pissy.

Neither of you has planned this nor expected this to happen, but you’ve both been feeling lonely, terribly single; are yearning to be touched. It’s been a while for the two of you, shit happens and people get too busy to enjoy the simpler pleasures in life, and you both consider the other to be attractive, so… why not?

Why not? Maybe because this entire thing could, quite possibly, be a disaster in the making.

Still, it doesn’t feel like a disaster when Yuuji’s hands wrap around your sides and slam you down on the couch. Doesn’t feel like a bad thing when he blindly hooks his fingers to the waistband of your shorts and you bring your legs closer to your chest and lift your hips a little so that he can tug them off easier.

Either he’s too impatient to wait or he did it by complete accident, but he manages to pull down your panties right along with your shorts. They’re both left dangling from your left ankle now, hanging uselessly and completely forgotten because he’s too busy trying to push himself inside you.

His back is hunched and his rosy lips are parted as he sucks in and exhales sharp breaths above you. They fan your forehead, cooling the sweat that’s gathered there, only causing you to shiver. 

You press your foreheads together when you lift yourself slightly with the help of your elbows so that you can reach between you, tug his waistband low just enough to expose him and guide him inside you. He grits his teeth, baring them like a threatened animal as soon as your fingers curl around the base of his cock, mindlessly stroking the impressive length, spreading the pre-cum that’s gathered at the tip without any sense of patience.

Neither of you looks into each other’s eyes; all of your attention is aimed at the spot where you almost connect. After all, his fat cockhead is bumping against your sticky pussy now, inconsistently gliding up and down and smearing arousal. Every time he teases your entrance, your breath hitches in the back of your throat and you cling onto him a little harder.

“Yuujiii,” you whine, teeth sinking into your bottom lip so harshly that you fear you might have drawn blood. He almost doesn’t recognize the sound of your voice. “What’re you waiting for?! Put it iiin!”

“Yeah… Y-yeah, okay,” he bites out, trying to stop the persistent flutter of a muscle in his cheek. His arms feel like giving in but the muscles in his biceps still flex and shudder with anxiety and anticipation when he finally presses in.

His cockhead pushes past the initial ring of muscle pretty effortlessly from how wet you’ve gotten from mere kissing and a little bit of grinding. Perhaps it’s the alcohol that’s making you so pliant and eager, but it’s easy to open your legs wider so that you can let in even more of him.

Yuuji feels dizzy; like the entire world is spinning. You’re underneath him, panting so loudly and you’re so warm inside, so accepting, so wet. Your pussy hugs him just right, walls squeezing around his girth, sucking him in further. The sensation makes him drop his entire weight right on top of your writhing body the second he allows himself to slowly rock into you and sink balls deep.

He hides his face into the crook of your neck as he begins to lazily thrust inside you, doing whatever feels best because he can’t possibly bring himself to form thoughts right now. In and out, the strokes are long, slow and deep. So deep, in fact, that they make you wince each time he hits the sweet spot that’s hiding inside.

You’ve ended up so close yet again; with your limbs intertwined and your bodies pressed tightly together that your shirt is crinkling between you. It rides up with the movement of his hips slamming against your own, exposing your stomach, making you stick to each other from how sweaty you’ve gotten.

“Nngh… You feel… s’good,” he grits out, quiet moaning already lacing his voice. His breathing has gotten so heavy that it’s creating moisture on the small patch of skin on your neck that he’s got his mouth pressed against. “Won’t last long… Ca-ah… Can’t.”

He sounds so fucking drunk as he continues to say pure nonsense into the side of your throat and keeps on pressing you into the softness of the couch. Not only on alcohol, but also on your pussy it seems. 

It makes him practically start pounding into you now. Abusing your tight little hole. He slips one arm underneath you and pulls you even closer so that he can steady himself a little bit, and wetness squelches between you as a result. Skin slaps against skin, breaths intermingle. His fingers tangle into your hair crudely – it hurts when he tugs at the roots even if you’re well aware that he doesn’t mean to.

He’s so big above you. So strong. So stupidly male. And he’s also gotten lost in the moment. For a second it makes you scared of him a little bit even if he’s the sweetest man you’ve ever met, a real proper marshmallow. And it doesn’t help that his cock is as big as the rest of him is; stretching you so deliciously, splitting you wide open, causing tears to prickle at the corners of your eyes even if the booze that’s coursing your veins is supposed to numb you out to a size like that.

“Yuuji, wa- fuck, wait…!” You cross your ankles at his waist in an attempt to slow him down, heels panically digging into his back dimples and toes curling. 

“N-no, I can’t, please… Don’t make me wait, please, please, please, c’mon,” he babbles, still not slowing down, not stopping. His eyes are half-closed and they show concern, but they’re also dark and foggy when he lifts his head just enough to look at you. “Just a lil’ more, yeah…? Yeah? Just a lil’... Ugh, keep still just a bit longer- I’m almost there. So… mmh… close.”

You try to fight against him, tugging on his hair and sinking your nails into his back, but all he does is endure it, not really caring much about your thrashing and turning. He’s got you caged underneath him, crying out his name, clawing raw red lines into his broad back. It’s all drunken breeding instinct and no brain as he uses your body like a toy, and the realization that you can do nothing but take it is terrifying as much as it is thrilling.

His pounding has turned borderline ruthless by now and in his urgency to cum, he’s pushed himself so deep inside you that you’re pretty sure he’s fucked his way straight into your goddamn womb. In his weak attempt to make you last until the end, he’s even started to messily rub irregular circles into your clit.

It makes a thin line of drool dribble down the corner of your mouth from how fucked out you’ve become in a mere fifteen minutes. The overstimulation is probably completely accidental, but it achieves the same result just the same. He outright forces the climax out of your body, and the second he feels you squeeze around him, abused pussy trying to milk him dry, he’s giving in, not resisting anymore, shooting his load inside you in an instant.

The groan he lets out is almost like a growl. He arches his back again, balls tightening, grip almost turning iron-like. You can feel the warmth of his cum as it fills you in steady waves of pleasure. 

You both stay still for a long while after that, trying to gather your senses, attempting to calm down your trembling. His cum is warm and sticky; tacky between your thighs. It starts to drip out of your hole by the time his cock softens enough to create more space. 

There’s just so much of it. A fuckload.

And he’s still breathing so hard. You both are.

“I’m so sorry… Fuck, I-” he rasps out. His mouth is so dry that he feels like he could chug an entire jug of water, but he pushes that need away for now in order to get a good look at you instead. “I just- I-”

Yuuji stops mid-sentence when he sees you push two of your fingers between your legs before bringing them up in front of your face again. He watches, eyelids heavy, as you spread them then, toying with the glimmery, cloudy white substance that’s gathered there until you gently push them inside your mouth, licking his release right off of your fingertips.

His jaw almost hits the floor. He’s so baffled by what he’s just seen that he barely registers the fact that his cock is trying to get hard again, throbbing against his thigh.

“What?” is all you say in response to the incredulous look that sits on his face now. Your voice is muffled from the way you keep your mouth stuffed full.

“I licked it so it’s mine.”

[rinhaler]

hii <3 more uncle nanami please? extra smutty hehe <33

still can't get over how much everyone likes uncle nanamin tbh agjdkshlgadsg, enjoy x

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, incest, sex toys, squirting, age gap, manipulation, forced orgasm, ddlg esque.

words: 1.3k

“What’s in the bag, uncle Nanamin?” you ask, blinking up at him so sweetly as he sits on the edge of your bed. He hands it to you, it’s a glittery pink gift page, and your eyes widen with excitement. “For me?” you ask, taking it from him.

“For you, sweetheart.” he nods, watching as you take a long, gift wrapped box out of the bag. You look at him for permission to open it, to which he nods, again. It’s wrapped so meticulously, which doesn’t surprise you in the least. Your uncle is so precise about every little detail. So you try and offer the same in return. You don’t tear into the wrapping paper, you do all you can to open it with minimal ripping. He sees how your eyes widen with fear when the object comes into view, and he strokes his thumb over your thigh. “Don’t be scared.” he tells you.

“I-It’s big…” you tell him, looking at the size of the box and the white Hitachi wand printed on the front. “Is this… a sex toy?” you ask him, innocently. He smiles at that, leaning forward to plant a kiss on your forehead.

He nods, again.

You open the box to reveal the toy, and it’s bigger than you could have imagined. You pull out the wire and plug it into the extension plug down the side of your bed. He watches you, like you’re a child opening gifts on Christmas day. And he chuckles when you turn on the wand and feel how powerful the vibrations are.

You meet his stare again, gulping heartily when you feel out of your depth.

“I— uncle Nanamin…” you pout.

“Awe, you don’t get it?” he asks, and you shake your head. He stands up and locks your bedroom door. He knows you’re home alone but he isn’t willing to take the risk. He’s thankful for his upstanding gentleman exterior, and he’s even more thankful that the rest of the family seems to fall for it. Even you, to an extent. It’s the perfect cover for him to spend this time alone with you. Corrupting you with each visit and moulding you into his perfect little girl.

“Do I use it on my… my…” you feel your skin sear with warmth as you flush with embarrassment, unable to bring yourself to complete your sentence.

“Your little pussy? Yes, sweetheart.” he finishes it for you. His fingers hook under your t-shirt, pulling it over your body to reveal a pretty, blue push up bra beneath. He reaches around behind you and unhooks it, your breasts spilling free as they’re bared to him. He hisses, quietly, enamoured by the sight.

“It’s scary…” you tell him.”

“No, no it’s not scary,” he continues. He pulls you further down the bed until you’re flat on your back. He pulls at your shorts and commands you to lift your ass so he can remove them fully. You’d decided to forgo any panties. You know they don’t stay on your body for long when your uncle is in town. “Gonna make you feel nice… I’ll show you.”

He takes the wand from your hand and puts it down for a moment. You’re already dripping wet for him, he supposes it’s some sort of pavlovian response to his voice at this point. He never fails to find you dripping whenever he sneaks into your room.

Your thighs are pushed into your chest until your knees are by your ears. He traces a finger from your slick clit down to your clenching little hole, his fingers ghosting the entrance until he pulls away completely.

He smirks when you jolt at the sound of the toy coming to life. Your whole body shakes as he teases your inner thighs with it.

“Remember I told you I want to see you make a mess for me one day? This will help.” he reminds you.

“Will it hurt, uncle Nanamin?” you ask him, your body trembles as the vibrations surge through you.

“No, it’ll feel nice. Really nice. It’s just tickling you now, right?” he asks, and you nod, agreeing. “Well. How about now…” he questions, lowering the large vibrating head to your cunt. And the moan you let out is raucous when he finds the perfect angle on your clit.

He covers your mouth, demanding that you be quiet. You’re home alone, yes, but that isn’t to say your family won’t come home sooner rather than later. His eyes are strict, but compassionate all at once. You’re humming, loudly, and dampening his palm as you try to wriggle away from the toy.

“Don’t fight it. Don’t fight me.” he tells you, moving his hand slightly to give you the chance to respond. “It’s good. Isn’t it?”

“Too much!” you yell, “too much f’me!” you cry you, earning his palm sealing your lips again.

“Be quiet.” he warns you, strictly again. “You don’t want to get in trouble, do you? You’ll like it when you cum, so be a good girl and take it.” he commands, turning the vibration setting up a notch.

Your eyes fill with tears and your body convulses wildly. This is nothing, he thinks. And yet, you’re flailing around like this? Your screams are muffled by his large hand, but he longs to drink up every decibel of their true volume. His pants begin to tent and strain and he relishes in the sight of the cutest forbidden fruit he’s ever head the pleasure of handling.

He turns the notch up, one last time.

Your eyes cross and you swear your heart stops beating. You’re cursing, though he’ll never know, as he presses the wand hard onto your firm clit.

“That’s it, good girl, cum for me.” he encourages you, adding the slightest pressure yet again to your trembling clit. “Make a mess of the toy. Make a mess of me. Wanna see, so show me, princess.”

And you can’t resist a direct order from your favourite uncle. You begin spasming, your cunt twitching as you cum. And it’s the hardest orgasm you’ve ever felt. And you feel happy, you think, when you realise how elated your uncle is upon seeing your pussy gush out a fountain of liquid for him.

Your sheets are ruined, completely soaked and you can’t think of anything worse than doing laundry after how spent your little cunt is. But he’ll do the laundry. He’d never expect you to do something so menial because of his demands.

He’s thrilled to see you’re capable of such a feat. His trousers are equally as ruined as the sheets below and he hopes he’ll have time to change before the family returns from their shopping trip.

“Good girl, pretty fucking pussy…” he speaks, though you aren’t sure if he’s talking to you or directly to your cunt. He pulls upward on your skin until the hood of your clit raises, putting more pressure on your overworked pearl. You yelp, helplessly, trying again to escape the feeling. “Sorry, princess, got carried away.” he switches off the toy.

He holds you in his arms for what feels like a lifetime as you try and process what just happened. You’re so wet. And you feel cold. But the warmth of his body caressing yours is enough to feel better.

“D-Do I… can I keep it?” you wonder.

“Yes.” he nods, “If you liked it, it’s yours.”

“Will you use it again? I-It was nice… so nice…”

“Of course.” he smiles, kissing the crown of your head. “And while I’m gone you can use it on yourself. You can make yourself cum whenever you like when I’m not here.”

What you like about your uncle Nanami is how considerate he is when it comes to you. But what he likes most about you is how easy to manipulate you are. You’ll become addicted to that wand and associate it with him. He’s never been worried about you straying and wanting to fuck other guys when he isn’t around. But he wants to be careful. He wants to make sure you remember who you belong to. You need to remember the only man who should make you cum like that.

What’s wrong with a man giving a gift to his favourite niece, anyway?

© 2023 rinhaler

[rinhaler]

Can you do something like a mutual Masturbation with uncle!Nanami that leads to us having sex because he's so needy like he just NEEDS and CRAVES to be inside us.

-Very Much embarrassed Anon 🫂

pls don't tell me I'm the uncle nanami blog 😭 not my intention but im always happy to serve 🍽️

warnings: 18+, coercion, age gap, faux/incest (not clarified), use of 'uncle nanamin', m + f masturbation, tit sucking, praise, vaginal sex, creampie, squirting!!, implied virgin!reader, pussy spanks.

words: 1k

“Gooood girl, just like that.” your uncle coos against your bare shoulder, looking down at where your thighs straddle his and your fingers play with your swollen, needy clit at his command. He grunts, quietly, as he jerks himself off to the sight. The scent of sex and want fills the room as do the sticky sounds of you touching yourselves and the agonising grunts of desperation knowing that this will have to be enough and it’s all that will ever be enough.

“L-Love y— I love you. Uncle Nanamin—!” you manage to stutter out. Passion consuming you as your clit throbs desperately to be allowed to cum. The loving praise from Nanami is more than enough to topple you over that greedy edge, but eager fingers keep toying and playing and aching as you want nothing more than to cum for him.

He carefully moves your arm so that you’re clinging onto his shoulder for balance. Your hips rock against his thigh, the muscles and ridges forcing you to beg for forgiveness as you climb closer and closer to the edge of bliss. Nanami won’t stop you, though, he loves you too much for that. He uses his free hand to guide your tit to his lips, suctioning around your hardened nipple as he continues to stroke his cock with ardour.

You cum, messily. Pussy gushing all over his leg and dripping down onto the floor below. He gasps, beguiled. Eyes filled with a hunger you’ve never seen before. He didn’t know you could do that. You didn’t know you could do that, either.

Maybe you just love him that much.

Your love for Uncle Nanamin is cascading from your cunt because you can’t keep it all in. Not when you so seldom get time alone with him like this. You’re always missing him when he’s away on business trips and when you do have time together your family is nearby. But now, it’s just you two. And you want to be perfect for him.

With a performance like that, though, he couldn’t see you as anything but a perfect angel.

“Did that feel good, sweetheart? You’re shaking… poor thing.” he mumbles with purpose against your skin. Each word surging to your throbbing bead and desperate to have more. You want to cum again. You look pathetic as your hand flies to your sex and your rubbing hurriedly again just so you can hear him say more sweet words to you and make you feel oh so special. “Stay right there.” he orders you, calmly, and it sounds more like a request.

You can barely put up a fight as he moves you carefully. Your legs no longer straddling his leg, just his waist and he takes it upon himself to distract you by sucking at your raised nipple once again.

“I’m sorry, princess, I shouldn’t be doing this…” he says quietly as he lines up his cockhead with your tight virgin slot, kissing your exposed skin again and again as he tries to ease himself in. “She’s made for me, yeah? Ohhhhh — fuck — you’re so tight. Such a good girl f’me…”

“Ah.. aaah—!” you moan and hiss ever so slightly as you feel his heavy shaft split open your untouched walls. You shouldn’t be doing this, he’s right. But you can’t possibly begin to care when your favourite uncle is giving you so much attention. So much love and so much of him.

He moves you like you’re nothing. Holding your sides and lifting you up and down slowly again and again as he alternates between kissing your skin and your supple tits. It gets easier. With each and every pummel of his tip against your soft, spongy spot it gets so much fucking easier. He covers your mouth as your moans become unruly.

“Sh… sh sh shhhh, princess… as pretty as you sound you can’t be too noisy, or you’ll get in so much trouble.” he reminds you. Tears spill from your eyes and run down his large, veiny hand. “Messy girl. Drooling and crying all over my hand, s’cute.” he grins.

You feel weightless as he uses you like you’re a doll. His perfect little doll made to take him in every sense of the word. You yelp against his suffocating palm when you feel his free hand come down and lightly spank your clit.

“What about her? Is she gonna be a messy girl for me?” he moans, feeling himself getting so close to spilling his seed inside of you. You shiver, his sloppy kisses leaving behind trails of spit that cool your body with every thrust. “I want to make a mess of you, sweetheart. Please… please let me.” he begs. You’ve never heard him like this. So desperate and needy and pleading for you to give him the answer he so craves.

“A-Anything—” you start, your head lolling back as you lose all composure. “Wan’ you to f-feel good, Uncle N-Nanamin!” you tell him.

With a few more desperate frenzied thrusts and delicate rubs of your sensitive core, you cum harder than you ever have before using your tiny fingers. He can’t help but admire the way you cream for him. Clear liquid shoots from your cunt and makes a mess of yourself, your uncle, and the bed beneath. And he can barely admire it, the sight being too much for him as he follows you into your high. You feel your insides turn warm as his cum fills your body.

His chest rises and falls dramatically as he fucks all he can into your cunt, but he can’t deny you as your face searches eagerly for his. You need to feel his lips on yours and he reciprocates instantly, wanting to assure you that you’re loved and he’s proud. You’re always such a perfect girl for him, his sweet angel.

He’s usually so coolheaded. Always in control and knows how to handle his wants and desires. But when it comes to you, he’s hopeless. How could he resist his cute little niece? Always so eager to please and keen to be with him. You’ve always been so affectionate and loving with him. So he had to have you.

And you have to give him anything he wants. Because you love your Uncle Nanamin.

© 2023 rinitxshi