#how to reset your brain

[honestkindlereviews]

Our Dopamine Detox Family

Our Dopamine Detox Family: A 21-Day Family Challenge to Reset Your Brains, Break Screen Addiction, and Rediscover the Joys of the Real World

In a world dominated by screens, instant gratification, and endless distractions, families are slowly drifting apart—not just emotionally, but neurologically. Screen addiction is now one of the leading causes of anxiety, sleep disorders, attention problems, and social disconnection in both children and adults. The culprit? Dopamine.

Dopamine, the brain’s “feel-good” chemical, plays a critical role in how we experience pleasure and motivation. But overstimulation through excessive screen time hijacks this natural system, leaving us constantly chasing the next digital reward while becoming numb to real-life experiences. The solution? A dopamine detox—a systematic reset of our brain's reward system.

Our Dopamine Detox Family: A 21-Day Family Challenge to Reset Your Brains, Break Screen Addiction, and Rediscover the Joys of the Real World: BUY EBOOK CLICK HARE

Welcome to “Our Dopamine Detox Family: A 21-Day Family Challenge.” This transformational program is designed to help families reclaim control, reconnect deeply, and rediscover the beauty of the real world, together.

What Is a Dopamine Detox?

A dopamine detox is not about eliminating all sources of pleasure. It’s about removing artificial and excessive stimuli—like social media, video games, binge-watching, and junk food—for a set period of time to recalibrate your brain’s reward system. It gives your mind space to rest, reset, and re-engage with healthier, more meaningful sources of joy.

For families, this detox is even more impactful. It promotes bonding, creativity, emotional intelligence, and healthier habits. When done together, it becomes more than a personal reset—it becomes a cultural shift within the home.

Why Your Family Needs a Dopamine Detox

Here are just a few reasons why families around the world are embracing this challenge:

Screen Addiction Is Real: Children spend an average of 5–7 hours per day on screens. Adults aren’t far behind. This constant digital exposure rewires our brains, lowers attention span, and reduces impulse control.

Mental Health Crisis: Anxiety, depression, and burnout are on the rise. A dopamine detox helps reduce overstimulation and restore emotional balance.

Family Disconnection: Screens often replace meaningful conversation and quality time. Detoxing together strengthens communication and emotional bonds.

Cognitive Reset: By removing constant distractions, your family will improve focus, memory, and learning capacity.

Rediscover Joy: Simple pleasures—like playing outdoors, cooking together, reading, or crafting—regain their magic when our brains aren’t hijacked by artificial highs.

The Structure of the 21-Day Family Challenge

This 21-day challenge is divided into three transformative stages:

Week 1: Awareness and Preparation

Objective: Identify unhealthy habits and build motivation.

Daily Reflection: Each family member reflects on their screen use and habits. Keep a journal to note emotions and behaviors linked to digital activities.

Family Meeting: Discuss the purpose of the detox. Set shared goals and rules. Create a supportive environment, not one based on punishment.

Inventory Your Triggers: What apps or activities do you turn to out of boredom, stress, or loneliness? Awareness is the first step to change.

Set Clear Boundaries: Establish screen-free zones (like the dinner table and bedrooms) and times (like one hour before bed).

Week 2: Detox in Action

Objective: Begin removing high-dopamine activities and replace them with low-dopamine, high-reward alternatives.

Digital Declutter: Uninstall non-essential apps. Turn off notifications. Limit social media and entertainment to pre-set periods—or cut them out entirely.

Family Activities: Fill the dopamine gap with connection. Try puzzles, board games, shared reading, hiking, or cooking new recipes together.

Creative Expression: Encourage drawing, writing, music, dance, or building projects. These slow-burn pleasures stimulate real, sustainable dopamine responses.

Mindfulness Practice: Begin or end the day with five minutes of guided breathing or gratitude journaling as a family.

Healthy Dopamine Sources: Include exercise, sleep hygiene, hydration, and nutritious meals to support brain chemistry.

Week 3: Integration and Reflection

Objective: Reintroduce technology with intentionality and reinforce healthier habits.

Mindful Reintroduction: Carefully reintroduce screen time with strong boundaries. Prioritize content that is educational, inspirational, or relational.

Self-Regulation Tools: Teach kids (and adults) how to pause before reaching for screens. Use timers, purpose-based app use, and self-awareness questions.

Celebrate Progress: Reflect on the emotional, behavioral, and cognitive shifts noticed during the detox. Share wins and challenges during a family debrief session.

Create a Family Tech Agreement: Establish ongoing rules around screen time, digital use, and offline bonding. This is your blueprint moving forward.

Common Challenges (and How to Overcome Them)

Resistance from Children or Teens: Instead of forcing change, involve them in decision-making. Frame the detox as a shared experiment, not a punishment.

Boredom: Embrace it. Boredom is the soil from which creativity blooms. Have a boredom jar with pre-written offline activity ideas.

Relapses: Expect setbacks. Use them as learning opportunities. The goal isn’t perfection—it’s progress.

Long-Term Benefits for Your Family

The effects of a dopamine detox don’t end on Day 21. Families who complete this challenge often experience:

Deeper emotional connection between parents and children

Improved sleep and attention spans

Reduced irritability and anxiety

Greater appreciation for offline activities

Higher self-discipline and goal achievement

Moreover, your children learn the priceless lesson that joy, peace, and fulfillment don’t come from a screen—but from within, and from genuine human connection.

Tips for a Successful Family Detox

Lead by Example: Children model adult behavior. If you want your kids to unplug, you must do the same.

Stay Consistent: Create routines that support your detox goals, like screen-free mornings or nature walks after school.

Make It Fun: Keep the energy positive. Celebrate small wins with offline rewards like a picnic, a DIY project, or a family movie night (yes, with intention!).

Document the Journey: Use a shared journal, scrapbook, or video diary to capture your family’s detox experience.

SEO Keywords to Include (for optimization):

dopamine detox

family screen detox

screen addiction recovery

digital detox for kids

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Final Thoughts: It’s More Than a Detox—It’s a Revolution

Embarking on a dopamine detox with your family is more than a wellness experiment. It’s a radical act of reclaiming your brain, your relationships, and your time. In a society wired for distraction, choosing to slow down, disconnect, and re-engage with the real world is an act of courage.

This 21-day family challenge isn’t about restriction—it’s about renewal. It’s not about deprivation—it’s about rediscovery.

So, gather your loved ones. Power down the screens. And turn on the light of presence, play, and purpose. Your real life is waiting—and it’s more beautiful than you remember.

Our Dopamine Detox Family: A 21-Day Family Challenge to Reset Your Brains, Break Screen Addiction, and Rediscover the Joys of the Real World: BUY EBOOK CLICK HARE

[thankstothe]

[hirazuki]

Back in the old world ✌️

[fifteenpoundsofpissedoffbees]

Been playing a platformer called Symphonia and its good but I keep swinging between "this game is pretty easy" and "1846 deaths" the last time I checked the counter

[volchiitza]

Hi, I have a question that I hope isn't stupid. I'm (technically) a political science grad student (I'm on indefinite leave due to disability, but that's beside the point). One thing I've been struggling with since day 1 is that everyone keeps saying "don't read the whole paper." "Reading every word is a waste of time." But when I ask "what do I read, then?" They just say "you'll get a feel for it as time goes on." I never did, I just got further and further behind. Sometimes a paper is very interesting, and I spend far too much time on it. Then I have exhausted my focus, and I can't get anything out of the next 4 papers I needed to read that night. How did you learn how to read for grad school?

Hey! I think the “don’t read the whole paper” is not the best advice. I like to read the entire paper because often there are some arguments embedded in different parts of the paper and it seems only fair to the researcher who spent ages getting their research published.

The “it gets better” comes from 1) reading enough papers so that it’s easy to follow the structure of the paper (e.g. reading papers with formal modelling is really daunting the first few times but then you learn to pick apart the important assumptions - I tend to skip a lot of the mathematical proofs because my brain is definitely not wired in that way), 2) having a research question in mind so that you can easily spot areas that are relevant to your research.

My standard process is that I read a paper in zotero, copy the highlights into obsidian and make a summary and takeaways in my own words so it’s easier for me to synthesize the information and have a record of it in case I want to refer back to it - this takes me roughly 30-60min per paper.

But! let’s say that you have 4 difficult papers you need to finish in 4 hours for your class and you can’t read one per hour. I would advise reading the introduction, methods and discussion parts of the paper.

For instance, reading the introduction immediately gives you the research question and a simplified version of the lit review and theory. Methods will give you an idea of how the authors try to prove it and whether it’s a valid approach. And the discussion section will summarize all the findings and their implications neatly. Once you’ve done that, you can spend your time trying to find connections between the papers. If you think a paper missed a major assumption, you can then skim the theory part just looking for if they address the assumption.

This is a long answer, but the basic bottom line is that once you read the introduction, you treat the paper as a reference in which you look for answers. At least this has worked for me! And obviously after each paper, you could eat something, walk around or watch a youtube video if you need to clear your head - I usually do this every two papers. Hope this answer has been in any way helpful!

[karlachfan89]

extremely funny tidbit i learned today: if you stake astarion and then keep his body with you, when you get to cazadors palace he can't actually ascend. if you drop astarion's body next to cazador he will revive him and put him in the rite. he will be completely uninteractable but entirely intact after the battle until you kill him again at which point you can't revive him.

[syrips]

me when i forget my acc/password, personal info, or anything that people expect me to remember permanently: life is pain. i hate this. there is no joy in this sorrow. memories are the sands of time, slipping through the unknown threads of false hope.

me when i forget i have food on my table: omg free cookies!!

[murmel-malt]

a list of things I know exist but that my brain still cannot comprehend:

foldable smartphones/touch screens

adults that were born after 2000

[rose-n-gunses]

the zoo animals were right. btw

[gender-euphowrya]

blue prince is gonna make me set up a conspiracy theory corkboard with red string wall

[syluss-littlecrow]

size training with sylus

<slyus x fem!reader>

where you’re size training on Sylus’s dick. ❤️

genre/warnings: smut, pwp, big dick!sylus, size training, size kink, dear god sylus and his fat cock, breeding kink, unprotected sex, pet names, dacryphilia, it’s just sylus brain rot ❤️

w/c: 2K

a/n: I’m on Love & Deepspace fic tumblr! 😮 hope I’ll be welcomed nicely here haha. As a peace offering, this is my present to everyone (and especially the Sylus girlies)!

You shift your body slightly, trying to make yourself comfortable, on top of taking slow breaths, your heart fluttering at Sylus's soft voice coaxing you. 

"That's it. Take it slowly, kitten", his voice slow and deep in your ears. But you don't see the way he's shutting his eyes and biting his inner cheek every time you squeeze around him. He's trying to pace his breathing as well, but it feels so fucking good.

You whine softly against his bare chest, his heat radiating off you, his slender fingers stroking your hair slowly, and his other hand drawing soothing circles on your thighs. 

You don’t remember how it started, but your thoughts start to drift, recalling the times your mind would float whenever Sylus had his lips on yours with you straddling on his thick thighs. He would devour you, painfully slowly because he knows that’s what riles you up, and he definitely enjoys listening to your whimpers, your non-verbal pleas for him to do more to you. He’d make sure your lips are wet and messy once he’s done with you, his touches teasing and light against your skin. Sylus secretly wants you to beg for it, because he knows that he’d give in to you in a heartbeat. His fingers would cup yours that were on his chest, and the look he would give you reset all the butterflies in your stomach. You would feel his thick erection, hidden under the thin silk black bathrobe he’d always wear against your clothed pussy, and dear god, he’s so fucking big. But before you could ask, Sylus would trail his fingers to tease your wet clit and pussy, soaking in your adorable reactions he swears is enough to get him off, erasing the question of wanting him to fuck you off your brain when the pleasure from his fingers tingles through your body. 

Sylus doesn’t pride himself as a generous being, but he thinks he’s always generous enough for you. He realises he enjoys having his face in between your legs, making you squirm, listening to you sob when he overstimulates you with his tongue, making sure his tongue presses and grazes fully on your clit while he listens to you fall apart, his crimson eyes locked onto you while he holds you down to take whatever he’s giving you. 

He’s good at distracting you like that whenever you want to bring up the question of fucking. 

This time though? Through your wet lashes from the overstimulation and hazy thoughts, all you were craving for was just to be fucked stupid by Sylus. Your hand reached out and pushed against his head. Sylus pulled back slightly, confused for a moment. 

“What is it, sweetie?” He paused, his hands trailing up and down your thighs. 

Your mind slowly clears, but your pussy is still pulsing from him tongue fucking you.

“Need you to fuck me, Sylus. Please. I don’t think I can take it any longer.”

Sylus is momentarily taken aback by your demand, but he realises he can’t keep holding it off, mostly because there’s only so much longer he’s able to hold back, especially when you’re begging for him like that. 

“I don’t think-“

“I can take it”, you muttered stubbornly, yanking your partner towards you. You shift yourself above him, straddling his thighs, just shy of his appendage. 

As much as your determination is endearing, Sylus knows your comfort should come first. And he knows very well that his cock isn’t gonna fit into you in one go, so he decides to let you gauge it for yourself—putting your hands into the string of his robe, gesturing you to loosen it. 

And you do, your gaze flickering from his cool expression to his silk robe sliding off his body when you untie the string. 

You swallow hard when his cock comes into view—thick, long and heavy, the tip red with a wet sheen of precum. Yeah, that’s definitely not gonna fit in you in one go. You and him solely being just wet enough wasn’t going to cut it. 

Nonetheless, you’re still determined. Your eyes meet his gaze and an idea pops into his head. 

He intertwines his fingers with yours.

“Tell you what, sweetie. I’ll fit into you slowly. Doesn’t matter how much you can take, I just want to make sure you’re comfortable when you’re doing so.”

“But-“

He presses his lips on the back of your hand. 

“I’ll be fine. You trust me, right?”

You nod, watching the way his eyes soften before you. 

So there you are, lying on your side, facing Sylus, your cunt trying to adjust to his cock as he stretches you open. It’s been a couple of days since you’ve been size training with your partner. It started off with getting his cockhead in, and that was already making you hitch your breath. Then inch by inch he sinks into you from then. He’d let you cock warm him like that and it never failed to leave you so full one session after the next. 

It’d been seven days, and you barely pushed through three-quarters of his girth. Initially, Sylus still could tease you while you tried to take his cock, but as he sunk deeper into you after each session, it started getting harder for him to maintain his composure—every twitch, every squeeze—had him digging his fingers into his palm, clenching against his silk pillow and breathing a little harder. 

He huffs once more when he feels you clench around his cock. 

“If you’re gonna keep clenching around me like that, Kitten, I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it.”

You glance up, watching the way Sylus’s platinum hair becoming a tousled mess against the pillow. His crimson eyes cast to meet yours, his lips pulled into a slight frown. 

“I can’t help it”, you reply, suddenly feeling self-conscious. 

You hear Sylus hiss slightly once more when he twitches inside you. 

“Do you think you could fit another inch in?” It almost comes off as a beg. 

You inhale shakily, shifting yourself further downwards, taking another inch of his cock. The both of you gasp at the sensation. 

You freeze at the thickness. How far down are you already?

“You’re almost all the way in, Kitten”, Sylus whispers, almost as if he heard your thoughts. His breathing is growing heavier by the second, and he’s forcing himself to hold back from just thrusting the remainder of his cock in. It’s dangling over him like his favourite prey. 

His thumb strokes against yours, trying to distract you from the pressure on top of pressing your forehead with kisses, singing you soft praises.

Your mind is gradually turning more hazy with Sylus’s cock taking up the majority of your thoughts, on top of his body soap that’s been creeping into your olfactory senses. The more Sylus inches his cock into you, the more he’s pressing onto your g-spot, and the more it’s starting to make you see stars whenever you blink. You’re growing so sensitive that you’re feeling every throb Sylus’s cock is giving you. 

Your hand is on his arm, trying to ground yourself from the slight soreness. Another strained whimper when Sylus pushes him deeper into your pussy. Slick leaks from your pussy and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Sylus. 

Another kiss to your temple, another circle drawing session on your thigh.

“Do you want me to go all the way in?” 

Your toes curl.

“I can take it.”

So Sylus inches his cock right to the hilt, knocking the wind out of you. 

Tears are prickling at the corner of your eyes, but oh god you do feel so good. 

“How are you feeling, sweetie?”

You hiccup softly. “So full.”

He chuckles. “Such a good girl.” The vibrations of his light laughter only press his tip further onto your g-spot, and it’s making your thighs shake from the impending orgasm. 

“D-don’t move so much, Sylus. You’re gonna make me—“ you try to bury your head into his chest but he stops you with his fingers in your chin. 

“Make you what?” 

He intentionally shifts, and his cockhead hits your sensitive spots again, sending fireworks into your eyelids, and a strained moan. Sylus seems to enjoy your reactions, because then he flips you to your back, his large frame looming over you, forcing you to look up at him with your legs folded, and still with his cock in you. 

Oh no. 

Sylus looks down at you with the faintest glint of softness in his eyes before it completely disappears, now just hunger seeping through the red. 

“Sylus!-“ you gasp, his fullness penetrating into you again, this time easily, considering the wet and sopping mess you’ve made around his cock. 

He only hums in reply, then pulling out slightly before he pushes into you again. He’s found your sweet spots, and he’s not letting it go that easily. 

The knot in your stomach pulls tight, and it’s making you tear up in sheer pleasure. You’re barely able to meet Sylus’s eyes, not when he’s fucking into you and has your head thrown back while you’re fighting to keep your eyelids open. 

It builds and builds. Sylus probably realises it from how much you’re just pulsing on his cock. His thumb rests at the corner of your lips and you let him slip in, your glazed out eyes meeting his. It makes his heart flutter when you’re completely undone like this for him, but he’ll never admit it, at least, not yet. 

“Gonna cum. Fuck, it’s so much, Sylus-“ you whimper before your mind completely melts away. 

“Release all you want on me, sweetie. That’s my good girl.”

That’s enough to send you over the edge—your orgasm hitting you like waves, tingling through your body like electricity, the pleasure eating you up over and over again. Sylus watches affectionately while you fall apart on his cock—the way you’re writhing and squirming, the way his name leaves your lips after every moan, the way your pussy creams so much on his cock. He thinks he’s doomed because he never gonna get enough. 

“Looks like a little kitten made a mess”, Sylus teases. He watches the way cream pools at the base of his cock when he pulls out slightly, only to thrust back into you again. His eyes flutter shut at the tight warmth eating him up, groans replacing his words. 

“Now, can I make a mess in you?” 

Your watery eyes meet his, and he’s equally about to lose all composure. You cup his cheeks, taking him by surprise, before giving him a quick peck on the corner of his lips, and then you nod. Said corner of his lips lift in satisfaction at your approval.

He’s just ready to ruin you. 

His strokes become more heavy, the overstimulation shutting your brain off. Nothing but pleasure is surging through your nerves now. You’re even holding up your legs so Sylus can fuck you deeper. 

“Now be a good girl and take all of it”, he mutters huskily, burying his face against the crook of your neck, his eyes snapped shut and his eyebrows furrowed. 

Despite the fact that you don’t get to see the way Sylus’s face contorts in pleasure when his orgasm hits him, his groans right in your ears serve you satisfied for now while thick white spurts into your abused pussy, filling you up all the way, some seeping past your plugged hole. 

You don’t realise how much you’ve clawed down Sylus’s back while he was emptying himself into you. 

Well, he doesn’t need to know anyway. 

Sylus stays above you for a moment, the both of you catching your breaths. He still has the energy to plant more bites on your neck while you stroke his hair. 

He pulls back to look at your face properly, and all you can think of is how fucking good he looks post-fuck—messy, sweaty, and so fucking delicious-looking. His fingers brush away your strands of hair, and his thumb caresses your bottom lip. 

“You’re truly gonna be the death of me, sweetie.”

[loverboybrightsideghost]

computer define underdog

[iris-qt]

The Boy Who Stares

Theodore Nott is staring at you again.

You don’t know why. You're not even doing anything particularly interesting. Just sitting in the third row of Ancient Runes, dutifully highlighting a passage about something very old and very cursed, as one does at 9 a.m. on a Wednesday.

But there it is. That intense, brooding stare from two seats to the left. Again.

You risk a glance. Yep. Still happening. His quill is poised mid-air like he forgot how to write. His mouth is slightly parted.

You blink. He blinks. You look away. He doesn’t.

Okay.

Maybe you have ink on your face. Or a troll horn growing out of your forehead. Or maybe he’s plotting your murder, slowly deciding which corridor would be least suspicious to lure you down. Totally fine.

You swipe your thumb across your cheek, just in case. Nope. No ink. Still cute, still confused, still alive. Probably.

Why is he looking at me like that? you think to yourself, nose back in your book.

What you don’t know is this:

Theodore Nott: stoic, unflappable, academically terrifying, hasn’t heard a word Professor Babbling has said in thirteen minutes and twenty-two seconds because he’s been trying to figure out how you manage to tuck your quill behind your ear without it falling out.

That, and how you’re the only person in class who managed to finish the Ancient Runes translation without using a single cross-reference guide. And how you chew on your bottom lip when you’re focused, and how your handwriting slants slightly to the left, and how—

You glance up again, catching him mid-gaze.

He immediately jerks his head away so fast it’s a miracle his neck doesn’t snap in half.

You squint. He suddenly finds his parchment very interesting. His ears, traitorous things, go a bit pink.

You blink again.

Nope. Still a murder plot. Definitely.

...

Class ends with the soft clack of textbooks shutting and chairs scraping across the floor. You take your time gathering your things, mostly because your bookmark has disappeared into a void of loose parchment.

Okay. That’s a problem for later.

Theodore Nott is still sitting there. Not moving. Not packing up.

You glance his way again. He pretends to yawn, which would be normal if it weren’t so obviously staged. Like, hand-to-chest, slow-motion, opera-singer yawn. No one yawns like that. You watch in real time as his brain short-circuits trying to look casual.

You sling your bag over your shoulder and head toward the door. And then:

“Wait.”

You stop. Turn. Blink.

Theodore Nott is standing. This feels promising.

“You, um—” he begins, voice low and uncertain. “You left your—uh…” He looks over at your desk. There is nothing there. Not even a scrap of parchment.

He stares at the empty space like it might help him. It does not.

“I left my…?” you say slowly, eyebrows lifted.

He panics. “Presence.”

Your brain takes a full three seconds to process that.

“My what?”

“Your—you left your—pencil sharpener,” he blurts. “Quill sharpener. Yes. That.”

You do not own a quill sharpener. Is that even a thing?

“Oh,” you say, smiling like you’re talking to a slightly confused, very pretty ghost. “Do you…have it?”

“No.”

Silence.

Then he blinks, visibly resets, and tries again. “Sorry. I meant—Hi. I’m Theodore. I mean, you know that. Obviously. We’ve had class together for like six years, I just—well.” He gestures vaguely toward your general existence. “Hi.”

You blink again. You’re doing a lot of blinking lately. “Hi…?”

“I like the way you annotate,” he says.

You stare.

“What?”

“I mean, not in a weird way. Just in a—your notes. Your margins. The way you organize them. It’s very…” He swallows. “…structured. Efficient. There’s a system. You color-code.”

You keep staring.

His voice lowers slightly, like he’s confessing to a crime. “I think about them sometimes.”

This might be the most unhinged flirtation you’ve ever witnessed.

“…Thanks?” you manage, because what else does one say when a gorgeous Slytherin boy admits to daydreaming about your annotated footnotes?

“Anyway,” he says, suddenly flustered again. “I’m going to leave now. With my dignity. Or…what’s left of it.”

He turns, walks directly into the doorframe, mutters “brilliant” under his breath, and disappears.

You stand there blinking at the empty doorway.

And then you laugh. Like, properly laugh.

You’re still laughing when you find your missing bookmark sticking out of Theodore’s textbook.

A/N: missed writing for theo -> pt. ⅠⅠ - The Boy Who Folded First

[nanamisgirly]

part 1, you can still read this as a stand alone.

cw p in v, unprotected sex, choso is kind of doing hyper fixation, nipple piercings, Prince Albert piercing, both are dominant, oral sex (f. receiving), big dick choso, degrading and praising, riding, mating press, face sitting. mostly smut with a little plot (?)

˖ 𑣲 reblogs and comments are very muuuch appreciated ma girliees <333

choso stood in the shower, slapping his head against the wall, cursing himself for what he had done last night. was he dumb? no—he was the dumbest. not only had he given you a lap dance, but he had totally lost control… all because he got carried away by gojo's antics… and your cockiness.

“i'm so dumb, please, what was i thinking.”

he must have freaked you out—you, his pretty crush. his lovely crush of five years!!!! he had wanted to wait for the right moment, take you out first, maybe? just keep it slow. he had plans—not concrete ones, sure, considering he had been putting off asking you out for four years— BUT HE WAS ABOUT TO!! and then? then, he flubbed everything. 

put his hand in your panties like some kind of pervert. 

“am i crazy?” the memories of last night kept replaying in his mind like a never-ending torture reel—the way your eyes had widened, gojo's obnoxious cackle, the way he moved on top of you…

his hands flew to his face, covering it as the image of him taking off his shirt surfaced. 

“why did i do thaaaat?” it's been hours now but he still was analyzing every second, every word, every breath—like some kind of detective trying to piece together a crime scene.

“i wasn't even drunk, just a little tipsy, please,” he muttered to himself. his brain refused to move on. he needed a reset. a cleanse. what if he vanished? he could pack his bags, drop out, change his name, move to remote village where no one knew the name Choso Kamo—

“you're miserable.” of course he couldn't do all that, and of course suguru and satoru had to invite you over their shared college apartment.

meanwhile you? you had spent all day thinking about last night. the way choso—the usual awkward choso—had moved against you, the heat of his body, the way his hands gripped you. the way his usual reserved, flushed face was nowhere to be seen—replaced by something demanding, dominant.

and it had left you aching. all day long, the pulse between your thighs wouldn't let up. only intensifying as you replayed the moment his bulge pressed against your heated core, giving you that perfect pressure.

which is exactly why you were in his room now. 

he had tried to escape you all night, hunched over on the couch, avoiding eye contact like his entire existence was a mistake. the moment you called his name, his entire body tensed, bracing for impact.

and now? he was hiding in his room.

choso had had shot up so fast he nearly tripped over the coffee table. “i—i gotta—” he didn't even finish his sentence before he had bolted to his room, slamming the door behind him.

a beat of silence had passed before gojo wheezed. “ohhh, he's so fucked.” as he exchanged a look with geto. you laughed, stretching out on the couch before standing up and followed choso right after he had left.

‘yeah, this was gonna be fun’ you thought.

he was so different than from last night. you needed to know if it was just a fluke. if, perhaps, he regretted it. or if he wanted you as much as you now realized you wanted him.

choso was losing it. he was pacing his room like a madman, running his hands through his damp hair, yanking off his shirt as heat crawled over his skin. his heart was beating out of his chest, his entire body on edge from just one moment of closeness with you.

but how was he supposed to face you after last night? after making a complete fool of himself? he wanted you so badly—had wanted you for years—but now it was all ruined. you probably thought he was weird… or worse, pathetic.

“…choso?” 

fuck.

your voice was soft, almost hesitant, but something about it send a shiver down his spine. he should have ignored it. pretend to be asleep. do anything but let you in.

but then the doorknob had turned. and there you were.

the second you had stepped inside, he knew.

knew from the way your eyes had darkened the moment they had landed on him. from the way you shut the door behind you without looking back.

he swallowed thickly. “y-you need something?”

you stared at him for a moment, eyes roaming over his bare, inked chest—his damn barbells—his flushed face, the nervous twitch of his fingers at his side. he looked unsure, so lost—like he had no idea what he had done to you.

‘how dare he look like that after making me ache for him all night?’

“…yeah,” you finally said, voice low. “i do.”

you stepped forward, pushing him back until his knees hit the bed. he sat without thinking, eyes wide, lips parted in shock. you leaned in, caging him in with your hands on his thighs. his breath hitched.

“i've been thinking about last night,” you admitted, your fingers tracing slow, lazy circles against his skin. “a lot.”

choso swallowed hard, his entire body going stiff. “y-you have?”

you hummed, tilting your head. “mhm. and you've bee avoiding me all night. i don't like that.”

“i—”

you don't let him finish. instead, you climb onto his lap, straddling him exactly like you had last night—right before geto had joked about getting a room.

he choked on air as your hands slid up his chest, slow and teasing, nails scratching lightly against his skin. just like you did at the party. “you danced on me like you wanted me, choso,” you murmured, lips brushing against his ear. “you even felt how wet i was. you touched my pussy… licked your fingers.” your teeth grazed his earlobe, making him shudder. “so tell me…” your hips rolled against him, pulling a trembling gasp from his throat. “…you don't want me anymore?”

that's all it took for choso to snap. 

one second, he was frozen beneath you, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. the next, he was grabbing you—strong hands gripping your waist as he flipped you onto the bed in one swift, effortless motion.

you barely had time to gasp before his weight was on you, pressing you down, his breath hot against your skin. his tattooed hands—nails painted a deep purple— pinned yours above your head, fingers intertwining with your own, your dark red polish a stark contrast against his.

“fuck—” he growled, voice rough, desperate. his forehead resting against yours, his dark eyes burning with unhinged desire. “do you have any idea how many nights i've spent dreaming about this?”

you shivered. this wasn't the flustered, awkward choso from earlier. no, this was the lapdance choso. 

“choso—”

this time, he was the one not letting you finish. his lips crashed onto yours, hungry, all tongue and teeth, all the pent-up frustration from five years of longing spilling out at once. his hands moved from your wrists to your waist, gripping tight, possessive.

his hips ground against yours, and you moaned into his mouth, back arching at the friction. that was all it took for him to loosen up completely.

his lips started attacking your neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks—his marks. his hands tore at your clothes, desperate to feel your skin against his. his mouth trailed lower, teeth scraping against your collarbone, sucking one nipple on the way as his fingers dig into your thighs, spreading them, his breathing ragged.

you whimpered, hips pushing against his, searching for more. and choso didn't even bother undressing himself—his only focus was you.

his hands were rough as he spread your legs wider, slotting himself between them. his breath hot against your inner thighs, and fuck, he was already feral with hunger. his lips drag over your skin, leaving open-mouthed kisses that sent chills up your spine. his fingers resting on your hips as he looked up at you, his dark eyes blown wide with need.

“i've wanted this for years,” he groaned. “thought about this—you—so many fucking times i—” he shook his head like he couldn't explain it, like he was too far gone to form words.

then he did the only thing he's capable of—diving into your core.

his mouth latched onto your clit with a desperation that was insane. his tongue flicked, lapped, sucked, determined to commit your scent to memory by morning. he was messy. sloppy. loud. he slurped, pressing his nose against you as he ate like a man on death row having his last meal.

he moans onto your fat lips, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. choso's eyes roll back at the sweet taste of you. one of his hand traveled up to cup one of your soft breast, squeezing, thumb playing with the hardened nipple.

“fuck—fuck, choso—” he didn't stop. didn't slow down. if anything, your moans only made him more drunk. he buried his face deeper, his free hand holding you open even as you tried to clamp them shut from the intensity of it. his inked arms looked almost sinful against your untouched skin—marked hands spreading and owning the softness of your body. 

"nuh-uh," he grunted, shaking his head. “not happening. you're gonna take it. gonna let me taste you.”

he was dripping. his cock was so hard it was truly painful, leaking through his sweatpants, leaving a wet spot on it, but he didn't care. didn't need anything except your pussy against his tongue, your thighs trembling on his broad shoulders, breathless little whimpers spilling past your lips as you fell apart for him. 

he licked everything. lapped up every drop like he was trying to drink you, tongue sliding through your folds, sucking, moaning, devouring you. 

choso was gone. absolutely, completely, ferally gone. he wasn't just eating you out—he was making a mess out of himself, out of you, out of the sheets. his tongue was everywhere, slurping up your slick, pushing deep into you just to hear the obscene squelching sounds echo through the room, riding you through your orgasm. god, he was so fucking shameless with it, groaning as he makes out with your cunt—as if he wanted to live there.

his face was soaked, his chin dripping, his cheeks wet with your slick. and he just kept going, even after your previous climax. he is obsessed, getting off on nothing but the taste of you. his big hands holding you open, keeping you in place even as your legs shook from the overstimulation.

"up." he groaned, pulling back just to take in the sight of your wrecked pussy, spread and dripping for him. 

you barely registered his voice, your brain still fogged with pleasure. “w-what?”

“up here,” he said again, gripping your thighs, his voice rough, hungry. “sit on my face.”

your eyes widened. “choso, i—” he glared, pulling you closer. “what? you scared?”

your face burned. “no, i just—what if i—what if i suffocate you?” this was genuine fear. no one had ever requested that from you before—no one had ever wanted you like this, so desperate, so feral.

choso just snorted, flipping you over with ease, positioning you right over his mouth. “sit.”

“choso—ahhh—”

he pulled you onto him, locking his arms tights around your thighs, forcing you to sink down onto his mouth. he lost no time to dive back in. tongue flattened against you, lips sucking hard before he shoved his face deeper, noise brushing your clit with every movement of his tongue fucking you.

“choso—” your thighs squeeze around his head making choso groan. sending vibrations up to your core.

his hips bucked up, his rock-hard cock leaking more pre-cum through his sweats, but he ignored it—ignored his own desperation, his own need, because you were all that mattered. you crying out his name, you feeding him what he'd been craving for years was way more important.

his hands slide up, gripping your hips, his thumbs stroking the soft patch of hair above your cunt. his fingers twirled the strands absentmindedly, tugging, playing—entranced by every inch of you.

he pulls you down harder, deeper as you start to grind against his tongue, getting wetter from his spit and his sheer obsession. and when your thighs twitch and your back arch and your cunt gushed against his tongue—

“so pretty,” he muffled. “so soft, so sweet, i could stay down here forever.” your fingers clawed at the bed head, mind blurring as another orgasm crept up too fast, too hard. there was no escape. no mercy. just the wet sounds of his mouth working you open, inked arms locking you in place, dark nails digging into your skin.

choso latches onto you, drinking every single drop, messy and greedy as he moaned once again.

“mine,” he rasped, tongue flicking, fucking you through the second orgasm even though your body was jerking from overstimulation. “you're fucking mine now. you hear me?”

your mind was fuzzy, lips parting as you tried to catch your breath, but choso wasn't having it. 

his lips were shiny with your slick, his face drenched, his eyes dark and hungry as he kissed his way up your body, pressing sweet, almost gentle kisses against your skin. But the contrast—the way his hands were still gripping you tight,—made you shiver.

“you can take more, right?” he murmured, voice soft, almost sweet as he nuzzled against your cheek. "you're not done, are you? my pretty girl can handle one more, yeah?”

your breath hitched. "choso, I—I don’t think I—” but he did not care. 

one moment, you were still straddling his face, thighs trembling—and the next, you were on the mattress, your legs pushed up, spread wide as he hovered over you. folding you into a mating press—big hands hooking under your knees.

you felt his heavy cock toying with your clit as he freed it from the drenched boxer. the tip already leaking against your overstimulated folds. you weren't even looking at it—the two back-to-back orgasms leaving you drenched—but damn, you could feel how big he was just from just the tip.

you tensed. “choso—”

“shhh, baby,” he whispered, pressing a lingering kiss on your smudged lips. “i'll make it fit. just be good for me, yeah?”

his voice is a mix of gentle sweetness and absolute filth, causing your walls to clench around nothing.

“ohhh, fuck—” you gasped, back arching, nails digging into his shoulders.

“shit,” choso groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “fucking hell, baby, you're so tight—fuck, squeezing me so good—”

your pussy was strugglig to take him, stretching wide, the thick girth of his cock making your mind go blank. he was so big—it felt like he was splitting you open. “c-choso, s'too m-much,” you panted, legs trembling around his waist.

but choso only cooed, kissing your temple, his voice all sweet and reassuring even as he bullied his cock deeper. “you can take it, pretty girl,” he whispered. “you're made for it. look—fuck, taking me so well—”

but suddenly you feel something. 

a cool, hard press against your walls, dragging along your inside. your eyes widened, fingers tightening around his biceps as a sharp jolt of pleasure shot up your spine.

“w-wait, what—”

choso chuckled breathlessly, hips rolling just enough to let the metalic weight of his piercing grind against your sensitive spot. “you feel that?” voice barely above a whisper, thick wtih amusement.

you whimpered, thighs twitching as the sensation made your head spin. the prince Albert piercing was something you hadn't been prepared for—hadn't even know he had—but fuck, the way it dragged inside you, catching against your most sensitive spots, it was…delectable.

tears pricked your eyes, your body overwhelmed.

“mm, s'nice, huh?” he grunted. “been dreaming about how you'd feel wrapped around me like this, all warm ‘n’ wet, taking my cock with my piercing…”

a broken moan slipped past your lips as he rolled his hips again, the cool metal rubbing against your tender, stretched-out walls, adding a whole new layer of pleasure. your nails raked down his tattooed chest, catching on his pierced nipples.

your walls gripping him like vice, your body pulling him in even as you struggled to adjust.

“shit, baby, you're creamin' all over me.” you whimpered, embarrassment flooding through you, but choso just grinned, his hand sliding between your legs, fingers rubbing at your clit.

“nasty little, thing. acting like you can't take it, but your pussy's sucking me in—mhh, goddamn, you're loving it, right?”

you sobbed, head lolling back, body burning hot from his words, from the way he was praising you while talking so dirty.

his hips keeps pushing into you, pushing all the way to the hilt, forcing you to take every inch of his thick cock in one deep thrust. 

“choso—ah!”

“mmh, yeah,” he pulled back just to slam into you again, the sound of his hips smacking against yours echoing in the room. “fuck, baby—so tight—gonna stretch you out realll good, yeah. gonna fuck you open 'n—mhfp”

choso wasn't gentle anymore—fucking roughly, fast. animalistic. he pounds into your poor, overstimulated pussy like he owned it. because he does. his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you over and over and over—

“listen to you,” his eyes rolls back at the obscene sounds of your wet cunt sucking him in. “so—” slams “fucking—” slams “messy—” slams.

hot fat tears make their way down your cheeks, nails dragging down his back, over the swirling ink that covered his shoulders and arms, down to his taut stomach where his happy trail led to thick patch of hair at his base. 

you weren’t even sure what was hotter—the way he fucked or how he looked doing it. his tattoos flexing with every movement, his abs tightening as he drilled into you, the barbells through his nipples gleaming with sweat, the veins in his arms prominent.

“gonna make you my little cumdrunk girl, huh? my pretty little toy to fuck stupid?” he panted, voice thick with lust, his hips drilling into you. “feels good? best you ever had? tell me, baby—tell me no one else ever fucked you like this—” his grip on your waist was bruising, holding you onto place as your body jolted forward because of his brutal thrusts.

your mind was mush. you could barely think, barely breathe. but you knew the answer.

“n-no one—fuck, c-choso, mghn—no o-one everrr—”

“damn right,” he gritted out, snapping his hips harder, deeper, until you were seeing the whole constellation. “no one else gets to have you. no one else gets this pussy but me, got it?”

you nodded desperately, body already on edge, the coil in your stomach ready to snap—

and choso feel it, his hands went to support your thighs, hugging them tightly around his waist. “go on,” he growled, forehead sticking to yours, not slowing his pace. “cum for me, baby—wanna feel your cum all over my cock, please.”

your head rolls back as the knot in your stomach releases, vision blurring from the pleasure, cheeks reddened by your tears. choso still hadn't cum, dick still hard—and if anything, it only grows inside you as he feels your spongy walls spasming around him.

you had never felt something like this before—so high off pleasure, so insatiable, so utterly dizzy with lust that even after he had fucked you into oblivion, you wanted more. 

as you came back to your sense you take a look at the man above you, hair damped with sweat, chest heaving, face still shiny with your slick. cock twitching—and so does his piercing—gleaming with your cum and his own pre-cum.

strength surged back into your limbs—not much, but enough to straddle him. your palms landed on his chest, fingers splaying over his pierced nipples, the cool barbells sitting perfectly against your skin as you pushed him down.

his eyes widened. “are you—”

you smirked, dragging your soaked pussy along his length, feeling his pulse against your swollen folds, the hard curve of his piercing pressing into your clit like a tease of what's to come. 

“what's wrong, baby?” you cooed, tilting your head, feigning innocence. “tired already?”

choso groans, hands flying to your hips, dark painted nails digging into your flesh. “fuck, you're gonna kill me—”

“or milk you dry.” you wink at him, giggling at the way his cock throbbed at your words. you could feel the heat radiating from him, could see the tension in his shoulders as he fought to keep control. “i thought you said i could take more,” you teased, voice sticky-sweet.

the tattooed man cursed under his breath, jaw locked tight as he watched you slide up and down his length, your arousal coating his veiny shaft, dripping down to his balls, his dark coarse hair shinning with slick. “shit, so fuckin' messy—”

you leaned down, licking a slow, wet stripe up his throat, feeling his pulse hammer against your tongue before whispering, “wanna ride you, sweet boy.”

his whole body jerked.

“holy fuck—” and before he could process anything, you reached between your bodies, wrapping your fingers around his cock, tracing a looong vein going from his base to his swollen tip—hot, leaking. the weight of his piercing pressing against your palm.

your thumb brushed over the Prince Albert, curiosity flicking across your face. his tattoos were hot, his nipple piercings were hot…but this? the idea of that thick metal pressing inside you, once again? fuck.

“y-you sure?" choso stammered, his usual cocky drawl cracking into something desperate. i—i'm quiet big, d-don't wanna hurt you.” his flustered concern was endearingly cute, but you knew better.

“i can take it.”

you dropped. in one go. fast.

“FUCK!” 

his head slammed back against the pillows, his mouth falling open as your tight, soaking heat swallowed him whole, the tip piercing pushing past your entrance, forcing your walls to stretch around both his sheer girth and the unrelenting hardness of the metal.

“shit…” you gasped—his cock stopped right before your bellybutton—your pussy was still struggling to accommodate him, the stretch toeing the line between pleasure and overwhelming fullness.

his happy trail and coarse pubes grazed against yours, adding to the overstimulation, his fat tip hitting something that made your toes curl.

choso's painted nails sank into your ass, black and purple contrasting on your unmarked skin, as he took in the sight of you—you're messy hair, fucked-out expression and the obscene bulge pressing out of your belly.

you bit your lip, rolling your hips just right, feeling the delicious burn of his cock pressing on every spot inside you. “feels so good,” you moaned, taking your sweet time to enjoy every inch. after all, it wasn't everyday that you could fuck a pretty hyper fixated emo man. with a big big cock above all that. “so fucking full—”

choso was hanging on by a thread, every muscle in his body taut. his breath shudders as he tries to keep himself together. but the way you were riding him—slow, teasing, your cunt clamping down around him.

“you little tease,” he panted, voice strained. “you're fuckin' enjoyin' this, huh? making me lose my mind—”

you rolled your hips harder, making him grunt. “mmh, you like it, don't you? like watching me fuck myself on your fat cock?”

his palms landed harshly on your cheeks' ass. making you yelp in surprise. “fuckin' filthy—such a nasty girl we have here—”

you moaned, reveling in the way he filled you so perfectly, the way his big hands manhandled you even though you were the one on top.

suddenly you feel his fingers wrap around your throat. your breath hitched.

“my pretty little slut," he rasped, squeezing just enough to make your head swim, to make you even more aware of his piercing dragging inside you with every pulse of his cock.

his hips bucked up—hard, deep, unrelenting. 

“you want to ride? then ride, baby—correctly.”

your moans turned into choked cries, your body jerking as he thrust up into you, driving his cock into your sweet spot over and over and—

“c-choso, p-please—”

“pussy's like magic," watching as your slick splattered onto the sheets and his abs. "sloshing wetness all over me—fuuuck.” his gaze darkened, locked onto your bouncing tits, onto the way his pierced nipples tingled every time you dragged your nails across them. 

“you feel so good. riding me like a pro," choso was on the edge—panting like he'd lose his mind if he didn't cum soon. “th-thought you were scared it wouldn't fit?”

but you were gushing around him, walls spasming, your tight heat milking his cock for everything he had.

“baby, i—god.”

choso’s whole body tensed as his climax crashed through him. 

his hips jerked, his cock throbbing deep inside you as thick, hot ropes of cum spilled into you—so much that it was concerning. 

his head fell back, a deep, wrecked whimper slipping past his lips as he kept coming, his hands gripping your hips tight, forcing you down onto him, making sure you took every drop.

"shit," you breathed, feeling the warmth flood you. your walls still fluttering from the aftershocks of your own release, thighs burning, your clit throbbing from the stimulation. 

"choso, you're still—"

"i know," he gasped, still throbbing, still leaking inside you. "i can’t—fuck, i can’t stop—"

And neither could you.

it continued.

For hours and hours. 

choso had been relentless, folding you in every position imaginable—his stamina something straight out of a mythological tale.

and you finally stumbled out of the bedroom—legs gone. nonexistent.

you might as well have left them in the sheets because they were absolutely not functioning. you had to grip onto choso's arm just to stay upright, and the smug, self-satisfied grin on his face was not helping.

“fucking finally,” geto drawled from the couch, stretching out his arms. “took you two long enough to get a damn room.”

you groaned, burying your burning face into choso's shoulder. geto should be more worried about if you were leaving that room alive.

gojo, sprawled next to him, smirked. “nah, nah… room or not, i definitely still heard everything.” he turned his head towards choso with a shit-eating smile. “didn't know you had it in you, big guy.” 

choso was… shy? embarrassingly shy. he froze, ears burning, his mouth opening and closing like he wanted to say something—desperately wanting to find an exist to this discussion.

you blinked up at him. confused. because who's that the same man who whispered the filthiest, most dominant shit into your ear?

he was mumbling, looking everywhere but at you. “i hate you both,” he muttered under his breath. staring aggressively at the floor.

geto chuckled, nudging gojo. “oh, this is gold. he's all quiet now. what happened to all that dirty talk, huh? gone?”

you bit your lip, holding back a laugh. he was so shy. and it was adorable.

“actually,” he blurted out, too quickly. “did you know tigers have the strongest bite force among big cats? but hyenas actually have a stronger one in comparison to their body weight?”

silence.

you blinked. gojo and geto stared.

“what?” gojo squinted. “what the fuck are you talking about?”

“animals,” choso said even faster, shoving his hands into his pockets like he could just disappear into them. “as you know, i watch a lot of documentaries and—”

gojo wheezed. you smiled.

and the, because you were a menace and because this was the cutest thing you'd ever seen in your life, you leaned in—all slow, all teasing—watching as his ears somehow got even redder when you got close.

as if he hadn't just spent hours rearranging your insides. as if he hadn't been the most depraved man known to life.

you let your fingers graze his forearm, voice sickening sweet. “tell me more.”

his eyes flicked to you, wide, surprised. 

but when he saw that you actually wanted to hear him ramble, when he realized you were genuinely interested—his lips parted slightly. his shoulders relaxed.

and softly—hesitantly—he started talking again.

and it was kinda hot!!

(づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ♡

I hope the anon who requested that is satisfied !! :3

[bitters-n-sweets]

scoliosis — michael "robby" robinavitch x fem!reader You have scoliosis and it's been killing your back all day. Robby notices and decides to help you out with it.

warnings: suggestive content, minors GO AWAY | reader has scoliosis - not bad, but def painful after hours of standing, running etc. masterlist a/n: anyone else got scoliosis? mine is killing me today || side note, I've been basically writing one fic a day for a week, my brain is on FIRE and I might take a break soon lol

Crack-ety-crack

You groan as you stretch your back. You only have 3 hours left on your shift, and though it will feel like eternity, you can't wait to get back to your bed and reset.

You’re perched slightly sideways in your chair, trying to avoid pressure on your elevated right hip. It’s second nature by now—awkward but necessary. The real exhaustion comes from always being aware of how you're sitting, how you're standing, how you're moving—if you don't want it to gradually get worse.

You sigh again, and Robby notices.

"You okay?"

"Yep," You enunciate the P. "Just charting, boss."

Robby finds your behavior—and posture—odd but keeps walking. You’ve stretched five times today by his count, and that’s unusual. He knows he needs to ask you about it, and he will.

A while later, he sees you dead-hanging on the break room's door frame. Someone—he doesn't know who—had installed it for their "gains" and now you're using it. With your scrubs riding up as your spine relaxes, showing your bare waist.

It’s not indecent. Not really. But the sight punches the air out of his lungs harder than he expects. Heat rises to his ears as he steps behind you, instinctively blocking the view from anyone else.

He clears his throat.

"Sorry!" You say, "Was just relaxing my back."

Robby’s frown is back. "What’s going on with your back?"

You shrug, casual. "Scoliosis. It flares up sometimes, so I stretch."

"I’ve never seen you stretch this much during a shift."

"Yeah, it’s worse today. No idea why." You wave him off like it’s nothing. "It’ll go away once I sleep."

"You taking anything for it?"

"Pssh, no." You grin. "I’ll be fine. Rest usually does the trick."

Robby doesn’t look convinced. "You wanna leave early?"

"No," You shake your head. "Seriously Robby, I'm okay."

With a tap on his arm, you're on your merry way to see your patients. Robby sighs, because he knows how stubborn you can be, and he's gonna have to force you to rest.

"Alright, Mr. Evans, you're all patched up and ready to be discharged." You smile at the older man and stand up, a groan following suit as you put a hand on your back.

"Hon, you might wanna check that back." Mr. Evans comments, "You sound older than me!"

You're about to argue back when someone cuts your line, "Tell me about it. Come with me." Robby motions and leaves, meaning you need to follow him fast.

"Robby—"

"Nuh-uh, get in here." He opens the door to the on-call room and you go in with a grumble.

"I'm fine, Robby."

"No, you're not." He says, locking the door behind him. "You're in pain, so let me help you."

"What are you—" Robby moves you so your back is turned towards him, and he gently places his hands on your shoulder.

He's giving you a massage.

"Rob—"

"It's gonna help with your pain." Robby says. "Now lean forward a little."

You do as he says, leaning your body weight on your arms while he makes his way down your back, his hands now on your lower back, under your scrubs. It's too intimate. You feel your cheeks getting hot. And it doesn't help that he's now so close to you, you can feel the heat radiating from his body.

Robby pauses for a second. "Is this okay?" he asks, voice lower now, closer to your ear.

You nod, quickly. "Yeah. Just… didn’t expect you to be this good at it."

He chuckles, the sound low and warm. "Let’s just say I’ve had practice. Not on coworkers, though."

You glance at him over your shoulder with a smirk. "Am I special, Dr. Robinavitch?"

He grins, his hands stilling briefly on your waist. "Yeah. You are."

You let out a shaky breath as he works you, and you can practically feel the smirk on Robby's face.

Robby chuckles. "That feel good?"

You hum, trying not to enjoy it too much.

You try to focus on anything but Robby’s hands—his clinical, practiced, totally professional hands—that you just realized are huge, and are currently pressed on your hip. But your body betrays you.

A soft, breathy sound slips out of your throat. It’s not loud, but it’s definitely a moan.

"That good, huh?"

"Robby, I swear—"

Robby chuckles, deep and smug. "I mean, I was hoping to make you feel better, so… I’ll take it as a win."

You try to twist around to glare at him, but his hands hold you steady. "Don’t move. You’ll undo all my good work."

"Cocky."

"Confident," he corrects. "And apparently very effective."

You let out a groan—not from the massage this time. "You are insufferable."

"And yet," he murmurs, dipping his thumbs just below the curve of your waist, "you’re letting me keep going."

You bite your lip. He notices. Oh, he definitely notices.

"Tell me if it hurts," he says, quieter now, closer to your neck. "Or if you want me to stop."

You don’t say a word.

And he doesn’t stop.

"Good girl."

[ladyymiisa]

PINCH ‘EM!

summary: katsuki just loves your cheeks!

tags: katsuki bakugo x fem!reader, fluff, katsuki is a tease

author’s note: starting the new year off strong with katsuki fluff!! i luv him sm

if there’s one thing about you that drives katsuki absolutely insane on a daily basis, it’s your cheeks.

those soft, round, ridiculously cute, rosy cheeks that make his brain glitch like an old vending machine. they give him such violent cuteness aggression that he’s genuinely considered throwing himself off a rooftop just to reset. it’s humiliating, really, how much power your dumb face has over him.

but watching you eat? that’s a whole other level of torture. the way your cheeks puff out with every bite, like you’re stockpiling food for winter, makes his eye twitch in equal parts annoyance and affection. he calls you chipmunk, because honestly, you might as well be one. it’s absurd, it’s irrational, and it’s ruining his life. but here he is, still watching, still obsessed, like the fool he is.

“kats—ow!” you whine mid food gulp, flinching as his fingers suddenly latch onto your cheeks like a crab on a mission. with zero warning, he starts squishing and pulling them, treating your face like it’s his own personal stress toy. “what the hell are you doing?”

you manage to gripe, trying to pry his hands off your poor, defenseless cheeks. your words are muffled as he stretches them in every direction, but he doesn’t bother answering. he’s far too focused on whatever weird satisfaction he’s getting from turning your face into putty in his hands.

“try that again,” he growls, giving your cheeks another firm pinch, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. “and i’ll squeeze ‘em even harder.”

you glare at him, your face still trapped in his grip. it’s hard to take him seriously when his smug smirk is stretched across his face like he just won the lottery. however, it’s clear that your discomfort is his entertainment, and it makes you want to bite back, but you can’t seem to muster the energy to do so.

meanwhile, katsuki is having the time of his life. it’s not his fault your skin is so damn malleable, like some kind of stress ball he can just squish and pull at his leisure. with every pinch, your face contorts in the most ridiculous ways, and it only makes his shit-eating smirk grow wider, as if he’s proud of the mess he’s making.

“y’look so stupid,” he mutters under his breath, loud enough for you to hear, though it sounds more like he’s speaking to himself. “stupid chipmunk,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost fond.

before you can even process what’s happening, his face is in front of yours, and with no warning, he plants a big, exaggerated smooch right on your lips. it’s awkward, considering how he’s still squishing your cheeks together, making your lips pucker out like a weird fish, but somehow, you can’t help but find it endearing.

then he does it again, this time a bit harder. and again. and again. each kiss lands wherever he can reach—your lips, your nose, your forehead, even your eyelids—like he’s trying to cover every inch of your face. you feel warmth spread across your chest from the tenderness of his gestures, even if they’re a little ridiculous. despite the absurdity of the situation, there’s something unexpectedly sweet about the way he’s so gentle with you, even when he’s teasing you relentlessly.

you’re about to tease him right back for being such a softie, ready to throw out a playful jab when, of course, he just has to ruin the moment.

“ew, katsuki!” you yelp, your voice high-pitched with surprise as he suddenly sinks his teeth into your right cheek. it’s not hard enough to hurt, more like a playful nip, but it’s wet and the way his tongue shamelessly flickers against the bite mark sends an unexpected shiver down your spine. you try to push him off, but he’s latched onto you like some feral animal.

“seriously?!” you gasp, squirming in his grip, but he remains completely unbothered. “this is disgusting! my cheek’s all wet now!” you cry, twisting and turning in his arms, trying to wipe the saliva off with your shoulder.

“serves you right for biting my shoulder earlier. y’thought i’d forget? hah.” he says with a wicked smirk, leaning back just enough to admire the mess he’s made of your face—flustered, pouty, and still glistening with the aftermath of his attack.

you groan, smacking his chest in frustration, but the bastard doesn’t even flinch. in fact, he looks proud of himself.

“you’re the absolute worst, katsuki bakugo.” you glare at him, half-exasperated, half-amused.

“yeah, i’m fuckin’ terrible,” he grins, clearly enjoying the annoyance in your voice. to emphasize his words—and to annoy you even further probably—he pinches the same cheek he just bit like an overbearing grandma checking to see if you had enough to eat.

yup, katsuki loves your cheeks, especially when they’re all flushed because of him.