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benkeibear · 3 months

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⋆꙳✧༄ Faking an orgasm

꒰ ͜͡➸ In which you fake your orgasm and are faced with the different ways these men handle it. Will they help or will you get punished?

❖ Characters: (true form) Sukuna, Yuta, Choso

❖ Reader: Female | AFAB

❖ WARNINGS: sub!reader, mean Sukuna, double penetration, rough/cervix fucking, name calling, slightly mean/manipulative but whiny Yuta, creampies, soggy Choso, (mutual) masturbation, multiple orgasms, overstimulation

❖ A/n: blaming @gojoath for the Yuta brainrot. Big thank you to @qichun and @suyacho for listening to me and beta reading this 🫶

☰ Sukuna:

ꕤ oh boy. Are you perhaps dumb or don't care about your life?? Now WHY would you do that to yourself??

ꕤ You were riding your king just the way he likes it, strong arms bouncing you up and down his cock until you were a blabbering mess for him, almost drooling from how good you felt

ꕤ Sukuna didn't allow you to cum however, punishing you for no reason other than his own entertainment but the closer he got, the further you could feel your release slip away, his voice booming “let go- fucking cum” he groaned out and you know better than to disobey your kings orders

ꕤ You weren't close anymore and decided to fake it, moaning and whimpering his name and title while you put on your best show but Sukuna could feel that this wasn't real, your pussy not gripping him as tight as it usually would and you were certainly not obnoxiously wet either

ꕤ while one set of hands held your hips down, allowing the tip of one of his cocks to sit right at your cervix, the other set of hands wrapped around your throat

ꕤ The aura around you shifted and so did his gaze from adoration for his queen to a derogatory one full of disappointment “You owe me this orgasm, slut. Do you really think that I'll let you get away with this?” His voice echoed and made you flinch, gasping for air

ꕤ You thought you were doing so well, being his good girl and giving him what he wanted but you just shoveled your own grave - knowing so when the mouth on his abs opened to lap at your clit while you remained impaled on his cock

ꕤ Sukuna enjoyed to watch you squirm on his lap only to sound so pathetic with every whimper and whine that fell from your sweet lips. Your noises the worship he craved until he felt your walls flutter around his cock for real this time

ꕤ “Such a needy little thing needing her clit played with” he cooed and started to bounce you up and down his length again until you were creaming all over his cock, your eyes glistening with tears from how intense it felt when his cock bruised your cervix but he was right - you give your king what he asks for, not a weak excuse

ꕤ He was far from done with you, one round never enough to satisfy him so when he flipped you two over and pushed your head onto the hard ground beneath you knew the true punishment is only about to come

ꕤ both his cocks were lined up with your holes, ready to plow into you until you were ready to beg him to stop, until the safeword falls from your lips because his sweet queen can only take so much pleasure

ꕤ “just like that- take my fucking cocks” he mused when you eagerly pushed against him until the tips slid into your weeping cunt and ass, begging him to destroy you. It's what you deserve for faking it.

☰ Yuta:

ꕤ Yuta teased you all evening long with calculated touches, whispered promises of what the night will hold and when he finally touched you it just felt so good

ꕤ it was worth the wait, everything you've desired - skilled fingers playing with your clit and massaging your sweet spot as his lips latched onto your boobs, gently sucking on your nipples

ꕤ the squelching noises of your cunt filled the room with their lewdness but every time the knot was about to snap and your cunt started to flutter, Yuuta pulled away

ꕤ “Not yet, baby. Need you to cum around my dick” he whispered into your neck as his kisses wandered from your chest to your neck to leave little marks there

ꕤ His words were full of promises but the edging eventually drove you further away from an orgasm each time and when he was finally on top of you, his dick aching hard when he sunk it into your heat it was unobtainable

ꕤ Yuta was rutting into you with quick and calculated thrusts, hitting all the spots that had your toes curling but it just didn't push you over the edge, guilt building up inside of you

ꕤ He was whining into your neck, begging you to release with him because he couldn't without the feeling of your plush walls milking him dry and the guilt was eating you up alive

ꕤ you faked your orgasm just as his thrusts grew sloppy and you could feel his cum painting your walls white as the softest moans fell from his trembling lips but a sigh followed the moment he came down from his high

ꕤ With his cock still buried deep inside of you “You owe me this orgasm, baby… I worked so hard for it. Don't do that to me,” his voice cracked while trying to sound stern and the dangerous glint in his eyes lit up

ꕤ He took it as a jab to his ego as well as feeling bad for not making you feel as good as he felt so he made it his mission to make you feel good until you begged for him to stop

ꕤ Yuta bit into your shoulder when his thrusts started once again, desperate mewls and whines falling from his lips as he pushed through his own overstimulation to punish you by making you orgasm over and over

ꕤ And when his hand slid between you to rub your clit you started to clench around him - this time for real and you could feel him smirk against your neck, not knowing the sinister thoughts his mind held. He would prove to you - and himself - that he's more than capable to get you off

☰ Choso:

ꕤ You were Choso’s first in everything and he was always so eager to learn how to bring you pleasure in all ways possible

ꕤ the concept of faking an orgasm was new to him, something you've never done before and he didn't even know why anyone would do that to begin with so the thought never crossed his mind

ꕤ and Choso tried so hard to get you off that afternoon after you had such a stressful day, genuinely just wanting to help you relax and he knew the best way. When you sank down on his thick cock to ride him, your cunt immediately clenched around him

ꕤ Having learned that you like it best when he rubs your clit while you ride him he eagerly swiped his thumb over your sensitive bundle of nerves with just the right amount of pressure

ꕤ “you're taking me so well… so good for me” he mumbled against the skin of your boobs as he gently suckled on your flesh while you bounced on his cock, desperate for an orgasm that just wouldn't come, your mind far too preoccupied to let your body relax

ꕤ So when Choso came, you clenched around him and moaned like you usually did when you came, not letting him know that it wasn't a real one - you knew he would be disappointed with himself and you didn't want to make him insecure since this wasn't his fault at all

ꕤ After a while of cuddles you excused yourself to the bathroom to “clean up” but in reality you sat down on the tiled floor and slid two fingers into your cunt, still dripping with Choso’s cum

ꕤ either you took to long or you weren't as sneaky as you thought because your lover knocked on the door shortly after, begging to come in and you opened the door, trying to act normal as if you were just cleaning up

ꕤ “I am aware of what you're doing in here… were you not satisfied? Did you want another round?” He questioned, looking like a hurt puppy until you explained to him that you did not orgasm - and still weren't able to do so because your head is just so noisy

ꕤ Choso sat down on the floor with you and nodded, his head working out the situation and why you would do what you did but it didn't matter in the end - all he wanted was for you to release and this time for real

ꕤ Your loving boyfriend doesn't care if it will take you hours to tumble over the edge, he will help you if you allow him, alternating between fingering and lazily fucking you until your body was so sensitive that his fingers coaxed an orgasm out of you by rubbing your clit - letting you fall from one orgasm right into the next

Networks: @enchantedforest-network @themovingcastlez @ghostqueue

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #yuta x reader #yuta smut #choso x reader #choso smut #yuuta x reader #yuuta smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk sukuna #jjk yuta #jjk choso #true form sukuna #ghostqueues

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nenchainzz · 4 months

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𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙰, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙳

Dr. Veritas Ratio x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your stuck-up philosophy professor is impossible and makes your class incredibly difficult, so to get your grade up there's only one thing left that you can do.

Warnings: slight age gap (dr. ratio is probs late 20s-early 30s and reader is early 20s), dubcon, dom!dr ratio, sub!reader, blowjobs, petnames (darling, slut), cum swallowing, praise kink, degradation kink, doggy style, missionary, vaginal sex, sir kink, cervix fucking lowkey, and creampie

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Is this basically literary porn (especially with a title like this)? Yes. Yes, it is. I do not regret anything. Lmao, I put a LOT of effort into this (more than I thought I would)

Your philosophy professor is among the most conceited and arrogant people you have ever met. Whenever he gives a lecture, he refuses to slow down when asked and expects everyone in the class to understand what he just taught everyone. He’s an impossible teacher. At first, you were excited to take his class since it’s hard to get into (given you need special permission to attend). Not to mention his striking good looks, which at first captivated everyone. However, his personality did not make up for his good looks.

Your grade is not good, and you need a way to change it. Dr. Ratio didn’t give any extra credit opportunities, but maybe if you meet with him, he’ll change his mind.

So, you wait until after one class so you can corner him. Usually, you would email him, but he’s not the most reliable with that, meaning cornering is the only practical way.

As everyone files out of the lecture hall, you walk over to him. His deep eyes look over the notes he showed earlier as he huffs a bit. His long fingers grip the thin paper as if he’s handling a soft feather. You’re starting to rethink your decision, but by then, Dr. Ratio had noticed you staring at him.

“Miss Y/N?” he asks. You look at his face, and his eyes watch your face change to one of embarrassment and insecurity. “Is there something you need?”

“Uh, I…wanted to ask…” your nerves make it difficult for you to speak up. His expression shows one of boredom. His eyes tell you that time is precious. You take a breath, trying to gain some confidence. “I wanted to ask if we could meet to discuss some things.” Your voice was faulty, but you made your point. Dr. Ratio gives you a small smile.

“Is that right?” he asks.

“Yes,” you say more confidently. “I’m willing to meet at any point whenever we both have the time.”

“I see,” he says and leans back away from you. He thinks for a bit before saying something. “How about now?”

“Huh?” you’re shocked by his presumptiousness.

“I have nothing more today, so we talk in my office now. If you’re free, I’d hate for you to miss your other classes,” he says. His eyes burned bright under his shaggy blue hair.

“I’m free now,” you reply almost meekly.

“Perfect. Why don’t we head to my office then?” he suggests. You nod and become flustered while walking behind him, following him. You didn’t expect him to agree just like that, not to mention you’re going to be alone with him in his office. He leads you up to his office and opens it to reveal a quaint little space. There are two bookshelves on the back wall across from the door, a desk with two chairs that lean against the window, and a small sofa on the other side of the room across the windows. He uses his hand to gesture inside, which you do. You hug your bookbag and softly sit on the chair that faces the windows. Dr. Ratio closes the door before sitting across from you at his desk.

“So, what would you like to discuss?” he asks, his hands clasped together on the desk.

“Well,” you start. “I wanted to ask if I can get some extra–” he cuts you off.

“I don’t give extra credit. I said that on the first day,” he says matter-of-factly.

“I-I know, but I really want to get my grade up and pass with a decent grade,” you plea. “I don’t want my GPA to drag down.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but–” you cut him off this time.

“Please, I’ll do anything. I really need to pass this class,” you plea still. He chuckles.

“You really should not use the phrase ‘I’ll do anything,’” he tells you. “It might give someone the wrong impression.” Your face grows hot when you realize the implications he’s talking about. You think about it briefly, concluding that there is no way that would even work.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things…” you trail off, making the awkward silence even worse. You look down at the desk, contemplating how to drop his class without making it affect your transcript. Dr. Ratio eyes you for a bit; your innocence intrigues him. Your presumptuousness not only caught him off guard initially (in a good way), but now your lack of expertise in conversation in his presence is amusing in some way. He laughs again.

“How about this…” he gets up from his desk and walks closer to you. He stands right beside you before continuing. “You can try with everything you have to try and really convince why you deserve a higher grade, hmm?” Your eyes widen largely at his proposal. “And I mean everything.”

“I…” you can’t the shakiness of your words.

“Of course, you don’t have to, but who’s to say you’ll get a better grade?” he says, half joking. Everything up til now seemingly has been happening so fast. However, you do need this grade desperately. You look up at him, and his frame seems much taller now that he’s so close. Your embarrassment and cute demeanor really are quite something.

“What do you want me to do?” you ask. His gold eyes stare down at you, the cogs in his mind turning to figure out what he would like you to do first. After some deliberation, he figures it out.

“Why don’t you use that cute mouth of yours?” he asks. You look up at him with surprise.

“Al-Alright,” you agree, put aside your bag, and slowly slide off the chair onto the floor. You make eye contact with him again, and he gestures to you with his chin for you to do what to prepare. “Professor?” you ask meekly.

“Yes?” he replies.

“Shouldn’t we lock the door?” you ask.

“Smart idea, Miss Y/N,” he compliments, making you grow warm. He swiftly moves to the door and turns the latch on the lock. He notices your reaction to his compliment. “Oh? Like being praised?” Even warmer now. “How cute.”

He returns to you, and the tent in his pants makes you a bit nervous, but you are not turning back now. You take his belt off and unzip his dark blue pants, revealing his boxers. You cup his bulge and prepare yourself. Your professor huskily breathes out when he feels your hand touch him. You move his cock out from his boxers and let his clothing fall to the floor. His cock leaks tiny beads of precum, and you lick your lips. You shift in your position, your thighs clenching. You look up at him as you begin to lick the tip. His gold eyes look down at you, his dark hair almost covering his eyes.

You swirl the tip with your tongue and watch his face grow red and his eyes close.

“Don’t tease me,” he mutters. “You got to earn that good grade.” You hum in response, and the vibration of your mouth makes your professor shudder a bit. You open your mouth more and take his cock farther into your mouth. Your eyes prickle with tears as his cock reaches deep into your throat. You motion back, and his tip is at your tongue again, causing you to tease the tip again. You use your hand to jerk him off while your tongue is preoccupied. Your professor smiles darkly and clicks his tongue.

“You’re not going fast enough, darling,” he tells you. The petname makes you wince. “Don’t make me fuck your mouth myself. I won’t be as gentle.” With his words, you find a new confidence and once again lower your mouth so his cock goes deeper. “That’s a good girl.” You moan at his words again and use your hand and mouth to begin a rhythm of going up and down his cock. His husk is breathing, and low moans are urging you on. The sound of his cock reaching your throat makes your head spin. You can’t help the moans that are coming from you.

“Jesus, fuck,” your professor curses. “Talented aren’t you?” His head tilts back, and his hand grips the edge of his desk. You don’t stop your motions even when your spit begins to leak from your mouth and onto the floor. His cock begins to twitch within your mouth, and you know he’s about to cum. He grabs your chin and stops your mouth. He motions for you to open your mouth while you spit strings along his wet cock. Your hand pumps his shaft as he shoots his load into your eager mouth. His smile is dark as he inspects his cum in your mouth. “Swallow it,” he commands. You do so without any more prompting. Your throat stings while your seating position makes your thighs burn.

You catch your breath as you stand up. Your professor clicks his tongue again.

“You’re not done, you know,” he says. “I intend to take you in more ways than just one.” You didn’t expect him to say that. “Turn around and lean against the desk.”

You do as he says and lean your palms against the cold desk with your plush butt out for him. He fondles you before grabbing your shorts and panties and swiftly pulling them down.

“You take direction so easily, don’t you?” he asks from behind you, his words beside your ear. “Maybe you’re dirtier than I initially thought.” He moves his hand to the front of your body, traveling down to your exposed pussy. He rubs two fingers over your pussy lips, finding it dripping with wetness. He kisses your neck and holds your hip with his other hand, and thrusts his cock into you. You knock slightly forward from the shock, but your professor’s strong arms hold you steady. “My darling little slut.”

You moan, feeling his cock inside you and his hand on your clit.

“Pro-Professor,” you moan.

“Call me Veritas,” he whispers.

“Veritas,” you repeat. Hearing his name fall from your lips is almost like the perfect aria.

“That’s a good slut,” he says, and the combination of words makes you quiver. He moves his cock out of you and slams back into you with his waist clapping against your ass. You whimper at the feeling. Veritas wanted to get you used to his cock, but he wanted to fuck you so badly and make you his. He grips you tightly and begins his fast assault of thrusts. You cry out, feeling his cock going in and out of you at such a rapid pace. The sound of his snaps snapping into you becomes louder with every thrust.

As you moan loudly, Veritas curses behind you.

“Fuck,” he says. “You’re so hot and tight, shit.” He can’t help the moans that slip from his mouth either. “You feel so fucking good.” His fingers begin to circle your clit almost to a similar rhythm to his thrusts.

“Ah! Ve-Veritas,” you moan. Your thighs start to spread to give his cock and hand more access to you. You seem to love his cock as much as he loves your pussy.

“Feels good?” he asks, amused.

“Mm! Fuck, yes!” you cry. He circles your clit faster, expert fingers playing the bundle of nerves easily as if he’s playing an instrument he’s all too familiar with.

“Want to cum, darling?” he asks. His thrusts shift, and he can hit a spot within you that weakens your knees.

“Ye-Yes! Please! Please let me cum!” you beg. His chuckle feathered your neck.

“Then cum all over my cock,” he tells you. His fingers pinch your clit, and your elbows shake. You quickly cum all around his cock, coating it sweetly. You loosen from his grip and fall to the desk under you. Your heart is beating a mile a minute with heavy breaths, and your pussy is still gushing your orgasm. Veritas admires your fucked out self. You shift your body so your back presses against the desk and see your professor’s expression. He is obsessed with how he made you feel and how you made him feel. You notice his hand is gripping his still-hard cock that is covered in your essence. His hair sticking to his forehead, giving him a glow. You want him even more.

You grab your top and force it off yourself. He watches you remove your clothing, eyeing you like his prey. You remove your bra just as fast, and he loves that you’re so willing. He leans down and kisses you for the first time. His fingers find your nipples and rub them, making you moan into his mouth. He breaks the kiss and begins to kiss your neck and shoulder. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling on his button-down shirt.

“Dirty, dirty girl,” he whispers. His cock slowly pushes into you like before. Your pussy quivers at the feeling of cock pushing through it’s overstimulated walls. He kisses you as he moves his cock to pick up a rhythm for you both. His kisses are wet and needy as his tongue explores your mouth with precision. You hum and moan as you feel Veritas reach deep into your pussy. His hands continue to grope your chest and pinch your nipples. He’s so good at everything. One of your hands finds his blue locks and clutches them desperately. You feel your body heat up from everything. He breaks the kiss once again as he moans in your ear.

“Ah, shit, you’re pussy’s so hot,” he says. “Fucking Christ.” You hug your legs around his waist, keeping him close.

“It’s all for you, sir,” you say between broken moans.

Oh. Sir? That changes everything.

“Call me that again,” he commands, his thrusts cease immediately.

“S-Sir,” you mutter. He kisses you again. His hips move back up again, and every thrust kisses your cervix, knocking you back. The sound of your hips meeting and the sound of your wet pussy getting fucked fills your ears. More than your or Veritas’ moans. His pace becomes erratic, and his cock begins to twitch within you. His hands grip your body tighter as he chases his orgasm. He bucks his hips deep into you once more and cums hard inside you. His low moan resonates despite his mouth being preoccupied.

You both pull apart from the kiss to bask in each other’s afterglow. Both looking into each other’s eyes. Still hardly believing what just transpired truly transpired.

After a few minutes, your professor pulls his cock out of your pussy, making you both wince from the loss. His cum drips and drools out of you when his cock is entirely out of you. He caresses your thighs and hips.

“Did I do well?” you ask. He chuckles before answering.

“Most certainly,” he replies. “Though if I’m being honest, I think a few more private sessions like this would benefit your grade highly.” You giggle.

“I am certainly willing to do that,” you answer.

‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙‧̍̊ ‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙‧̍̊ ‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙‧̍̊ ‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙‧̍̊ ‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙‧̍̊

#dr. ratio #veritas ratio #dr. ratio x reader #veritas ratio x reader #ratio x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail smut #hsr smut #ghostqueues

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redskyvenus · 4 months

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𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ⟡ TOJI FUSHIGURO

content warnings: non-curse AU, sfw/fluff, bf!toji x fem reader, mentions of food, late period, pet names, pregnancy, suggestive nsfw comment (it’s toji c’mon) | wc: 0.5k

notes: happy birthday to the love of my life <3 just a short little drabble to celebrate my husband’s special day! not proofread, reblogs/comments are appreciated

masterlist

“Princess? I’m home…” The front door resounds with a hearty thud and you hear Toji’s voice echo through the large hallway.

“They ran out of the caramel sea salt flavor you wanted, so I brought the strawberry cheesecake instead. Hope that’s okay.” As Toji enters the shared bedroom, he finds you sitting on the bed folding laundry.

When you finally look up at your tall boyfriend, his captivating green eyes melt into yours. Toji’s broad smile turns into a pout upon seeing your disappointed face as he holds up the ice cream tub.

“I’ll go there again tomorrow, promise.”

Before you can process his words, tears well up in your eyes and quiet sobs escape you. "Hey, hey, don’t cry, baby.” Sitting beside you on the crisp white sheets, Toji strokes the back of your head. “What’s wrong? Was I gone too long?"

“Nothing, Toji. I’m just sensitive today; my period is late. Hormones are a mess, as usual.” You sigh as he wipes away your tears, his warm lips showering your dampened cheek with tender kisses. Calloused fingers soothingly caress your face.

“Do I need to eat you out again?” He chuckles, teasingly. “I’m still hungry,” he adds, seductively licking his scarred lips.

“No,” you laugh airily as his big hands wrap around your waist. "Today's all about you, birthday boy." You playfully slap his cheek before giving it a kiss. “Wanna watch a movie before the countdown starts?”

“Sure, but no more Twilight. Please,” he begs humorously, switching on the tv.

You huff at his comment, folding your arms over each other in mock disappointment. “You’re lucky you’re so handsome; otherwise I would’ve traded you for someone who doesn’t complain about watching Twilight every New Year’s Eve.

5… 4… 3… 2… 1…

As the clock strikes midnight, bright fireworks light up the skies and a long, steamy kiss is shared. “Happy New Year, beautiful. I love you.” He whispers lustfully against your glossy lips.

“I love you too, Toji.” Pulling away, you quickly grab a neatly wrapped gift box from underneath the bed. “Here, take it.” Giggles escape you as you nervously start to fiddle with your fingers.

“What’s this? Another gift?!”

“Just open it.”

Toji unwraps it skillfully, eyes widening in surprise as he holds the pregnancy test. "Fuck. Did you test positive for Covid again?" he exclaims in shock.

You shake your head, bursting into laughter. "No, idiot. There's something else in there.”

His hands rummage through the box, and he discovers a pair of tiny, beige baby socks under the wrapping. Holding them up in awe, he stammers, “Wait— does this mean y-… you’re pregnant?”

His heart swells, and a tear of joy glistens in the corner of his eye.

A radiant smile graces your face, nodding slowly. “WE’RE GONNA HAVE A BABY TOGETHER!” Toji proudly exclaims, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of surprise and sheer pride.

Without hesitation, he lifts up your shirt and gently kisses your stomach, laying down to rest his head. “This is why you were throwing up so much these past few days—the stomach flu turns out to be our little brat instead.” Toji sniffles while lovingly rubbing your belly.

“I can’t believe Megumi is gonna be a big brother.” You whisper softly as your fingers glide through his black, silky strands.

“Do you wanna tell him or should I?”

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yuta-nation · 5 months

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Light Shower (Yuta Okkotsu)

summary: your big brother butts into your sex life, and you both get more than you bargained for.

content: dead dove (do not eat), incest/stepcest (left unclear), big bro!yuta, afab fem!reader (no pronouns but referred to as girl, sister, ect.), inexperienced!reader, oral (m -> f), protected p -> v, squirting, fingering, possessive!yuta, pillow princess!reader, mentions of alcohol but reader is not drunk.

wc: 3.8k

a/n: HEED THE CONTENT WARNINGS !! I HAVE MADE SHIT SO FUCKING CLEAR !!! anyways, i've been working on this fic for months, and i'm so happy it's finally done ! this whole thing is dedicated to @princess-okkotsu for being nasty with me and lovely to me.

You had many reasons for moving in with your older brother for your last year of undergrad. You and Yuta hadn’t lived together since he was 16 and you were 13, separated for reasons you still didn’t understand. The only time he’d visited you and your parents after he moved out had been for your high school graduation. You’d missed him a lot, but you kept in close contact online and over the phone, texting constantly and calling a few times a week with video calls sprinkled in. Despite the physical distance, your brother had become your best friend. When you told him you were planning to attend university in Tokyo, he was elated, talking about how he couldn’t wait to show you around and how excited he was to see you more often. He had kept his word, taking you all around the city during your first few weeks in Tokyo, handing you a key to his apartment, and telling you you were welcome over any time, even if he wasn’t home. He took you out to breakfast every Sunday morning and invited you over to watch movies every Wednesday evening. Your relationship thrived with the new proximity.

Moving in with your brother would allow you to connect as siblings in a way you missed out on growing up. Yuta also lived closer to campus than you did, meaning you wouldn’t have to take the train. You liked your current roommates well enough, but they always had people over when you were studying and rarely cleaned their messes in the kitchen. Yuta was tidy and quiet. And finally, you were broke. Undergrad was expensive, the city was expensive, and grad school wouldn’t be cheap either. Yuta was willing to let you move in rent-free, declining your offer to at least pay utilities.

“I don’t need my baby sister’s money,” he’d said with a smile and finality that shut down any argument you tried to conjure.

You’d accepted the offer and moved in about a month ago. Living with Yuta was as easy as breathing. He was a courteous and generous roommate. He did his share of the chores and often offered to help you with your own. He brought you coffee and snacks while you studied. He carried the bags when the two of you went grocery shopping.

And he was fun. Almost every moment the two of you spent together was full of laughter. You and Yuta cooked dinner together every night you were both home, talking and joking about your days. You weren’t sure what Yuta did for work; he’d always been vague, but you figured it had something to do with the government. But you enjoyed his stories about his coworkers and their antics. And Yuta seemed just as invested in your stories about your friends and daily life. He asked questions and remembered names and offered advice.

The only thing you didn’t feel comfortable talking with your big brother about was your love life. Talking to Yuta about guys just felt like crossing an unspoken line. It’s not like much was going on in that aspect of your life anyway; you were too busy with school to seek out new people. Once in a while, one of your friends would set you up on a date with someone. You didn’t mind their meddling; you knew it came from a good place, and they were good judges of character. However, you had yet to hit it off with any of these match-ups. There just wasn’t that spark. So when your friend told you she’d met someone in her Econ class that would be perfect for you, you were a mix of skeptical and excited. After some persuading, you agreed to go out with Mr. Econ.

Now you stood in the entryway, checking yourself in the mirror a final time and looking through your purse to check that you had everything.

“Oh, are you going somewhere? I thought we were watching a movie tonight?” You turned to see your brother putting dishes in the sink.

“Oh, Yu, I’m so sorry. I totally forgot. I have a date tonight, so–”

“A date?” Yuta turned to face you with a raised brow, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“Yeah, my friend set me up with a guy from her class. We’re going for drinks.”

“You’re meeting a man you’ve never met for drinks? And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“Yuta, please don’t pull the big brother act. I’m an ad–”

“It’s no act. I am your brother. It’s my job to look out for you.”

“My location is on. I’ll text you when I get there and am on my way home. Deal?”

“No.”

“What do you mean no? Yuta, you can’t ju–”

“I require a hug before I let you leave,” he said simply as a boyish grin spread over his lips. You fought your own smile as you walked into his open arms. You sighed as you felt his strong arms squeeze you tight.

“Be safe. Call me if you need me to come get you, yeah?” Yuta whispered in your ear, swaying you a bit as he spoke.

“I will, I promise,” you said as you detangled yourself from his arms. You returned your focus to the mirror, straightening your top before grabbing your keys.

“Wait. Do you need a condom?”

“W-what?”

“A condom. Let me go grab you one–”

“No!”

“What do you mean no? You can’t–”

“No–I mean, I already have some. Yuta, never say that word again,” you said as fire burned in your cheeks and ears.

“Condom.”

“I’m leaving.”

“I love you,” he called when you opened the door.

“Love you too.”

You were back home in a little over an hour. You couldn’t hold back your sigh as you reentered the apartment and removed your shoes. You didn’t hear the TV in the living room; Yuta must’ve forgone watching the movie by himself and went to his room. You felt a pang of guilt at that. You should’ve stayed home and watched a movie with your big brother instead of going out with an idiot business major who just wanted to fuck. You walked over to Yuta’s bedroom door and knocked.

“Yu, just letting you know I’m home,” you called out. You heard shuffling on the other side of the door, opening a few seconds later to reveal your shirtless brother. His brow was furrowed in concern as he looked down at you.

“You said you’d text when you were on your way back. It’s still early. Did something happen?”

“No, he was just an ass. I’m going to go take my make-up off. We can still watch that movie if you want.”

“What’d he do?” Yuta asked with a hardness in his voice that you’d never heard before. You turned to face him and were met with dark blue eyes boiling with fury. You were grateful to know that his rage wasn’t directed at you; the look on his face was bone-chilling.

“Nothing, we just had different definitions of the term ‘date.’”

“What does that mean?”

“He just wanted to fuck. I didn’t, so I left.”

“Oh, thank God. I don’t like the idea of you having sex,” he said with a relieved sigh.

“I’m a fucking adult, Yuta. I can have sex if I want to. Though lucky for you, sex sucks,” you said hotly, turning on your heel to leave. You loved him, but Yuta had a way of getting under your skin. Your retreat was halted by his hand grabbing yours. You turned to face him; a look of confusion splayed across his features again.

“Now, what do you mean by that?”

“Yu, I really don’t want to discuss my sex life with you. I’d actually rather die.”

“Hey, you can’t just drop that tidbit and not elaborate,” he said, maintaining his firm grip on your hand.

“Yuta…”

“I’m not going to judge you. You can tell me about anything, you know that,” Yuta said with soft eyes. He tugged lightly on your hand, guiding you into his room. He gestured for you to sit on the bed while he sat in his desk chair. You sat down, suddenly finding Yuta’s spotless bedroom floor captivating.

“What’s so bad about sex?” he asked gently. You knew that if you looked at him, he’d be making those puppy dog eyes that always had you spilling your guts to him.

“Me. I’m not good at it, so I don’t like it.”

“Not good?”

“I’ve never…y’know.”

“Never what?”

“I’ve never finished, okay?”

“You’ve never cum before?”

“I do when I’m by myself. I just can’t with other people for some reason. I’m fucking broken. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go die in a hole.”

“Do not be embarrassed,” Yuta said firmly as he stood and crossed the room to kneel before you. He took your chin in his hand and guided you to look him in the eye.

“You are not broken. There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s not your fault if you’ve only been with partners who don’t know how to satisfy you.”

Something in Yuta’s reassuring tone forced the damn to break. Tears spilled from your eyes as you fought back the lump in your throat. A sob racked your body as Yuta joined you on the bed and wrapped you in his arms before he lifted you into his lap. He rubbed slow circles on your back as you cried and placed a kiss on your hair.

After a few minutes, your tears subsided enough for you to speak.

“I’m sorry, Yuta, this isn’t your problem,”

“Don’t be sorry, sweetie. You’re hurting, and that is my problem.”

“There’s nothing you can do about it, though.”

“Who said that?”

“What?” you asked, raising your head to look at your brother.

“I can help you.”

“How?”

“I can make you cum.” Yuta said with the same smile and finality he had when he convinced you to move in with him.

“No, you can’t. You’re my brother, Yuta.”

“And it’s my job as your brother to take care of you. Let me help you. Let me show you how sex is supposed to be.”

“It’s not right, Yu. We can’t.”

“Just once. No one will know. I want you to know what it’s like to feel good. You deserve to feel good.”

“...Just once?”

“Yeah, only tonight.”

“I trust you, Yuta,” you said, meeting his eyes of your own accord.

Yuta’s kiss was so gentle it almost brought tears back to your eyes. His lips slotted against yours with hesitance, like he expected that at any moment, you would bolt from his lap, out the door, and out of his life forever. But you knew you wouldn’t. You couldn’t deny how handsome your big brother was, how you adored his deep blue eyes and full lips, how enamored you were with his size, his large hands and broad shoulders. You couldn’t deny how much you wanted him right now. You deepened the kiss, grazing your tongue over his lips, coaxing him to let you in. He opened up to you, allowing you to explore his mouth.

Yuta shifted you in his lap so that you were straddling him, large hands gripping your waist. You grinded down on him as you laced your fingers through his dark hair. You pulled gently, eliciting a soft moan from the man below you.

“Fuck, I could kiss you all night, baby. You taste so good. But I gotta make you cum. Wanna taste you somewhere else,” Yuta whispered against your lips. You felt your core pulse at his words.

“Take this pretty dress off for me and lay down,” he ordered after giving your lips a final peck. You did as you were told, slowly unzipping your dress and letting it pool at your feet. You stepped out of the fabric and climbed back onto the bed, resting your head on the pillows.

Yuta joined you on the bed, settling at your feet. He took hold of both of your ankles and gently pulled them apart, spreading your legs. You could see the desire burning in his eyes as they made contact with the crotch of your panties. Your face heated as you imagined the growing wet spot forming there. Before you could close your legs out of embarrassment, Yuta moved forward to brush his fingers over your clothed cunt.

“You’ve been torturing me, baby, parading around in these cute little panties. Been haunting my dreams with them. Gonna let me take ‘em off, let me see your pretty pussy?” He asked, almost begging. You nodded your consent, and Yuta placed a kiss on your covered clit before pulling your damp panties off. He stifled a moan at the sight of strings of slick clinging to the fabric as he delicately removed the garment.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, breath fanning over your now-bared pussy. You watched as he tucked your panties in his pocket, and you felt your face warm even more at his actions. You gasped as you felt Yuta’s warm mouth wrap around your clit. He sucked gently before circling it with his tongue.

“Yuuuutaaaa,” you moaned at the unfamiliar yet extremely pleasant sensation.

“Has anyone ever done this for you before baby?” he asked, voice thick with lust.

“N-no, no one,” you admitted, eager to feel his lips on you again.

“Good. Such a good girl, saving the first taste of this pussy for your big brother. So fucking sweet, baby,” he praised before diving back into your cunt. He lapped at your slit, collecting your slick on his tongue. You whined at the feeling and the lewd sounds his mouth on your pussy produced. His tongue moved back to your clit, swirling around it before latching his lips around it. His fingers found their way to your slit, sliding one inside as he continued to suck your clit. He moaned at the tightness of your heat around his finger. It was hard for him to believe that anyone or anything had breached your walls before this moment based on the vice grip they had around him.

He worked his finger in and out of your heat steadily as he continued to suck and lick at your clit, relishing in the sounds of your moans and whines. After a minute or so, Yuta slipped another finger inside you, smiling against your clit at the mewl you let out at the addition.

“Shh, it’s okay, baby. I’ve gotta prep you for me, okay? Gotta get you ready so you feel good, alright?” He cooed from between your legs. You nodded in understanding, desire pooling at your core. You heard Yuta tsk from his position below you.

“Need you to use your words, pretty girl. You gotta use your voice for me.”

“O-okay. Wanna feel good, please, don’t stop!”

“That’s my girl. I’m gonna give you another finger, m’kay? You’re doing so well, pretty,” Yuta encouraged as he added a third finger, mouth returning to your clit with vigor. He was now determined for you to cum, to show you everything that you’d been missing. Everything he could give you. He fucked his fingers into you at a steady but deliberate pace. His mouth latched onto your clit, suckling firmly, using your moans and whines as a guide to how to pleasure you, how to pull more sounds from you, how to fill your brain with thoughts of him, him, and nothing else.

“Yuta, Yuta! Cumming!” you squealed out, toes curling and back arching off the bed at the sensation of your orgasm beginning to roll over you. Yuta doubled his efforts, rolling his tongue over your clit as his fingers picked up the pace. One deep thrust of his fingers led to you practically screaming as you squirted all over your big brother’s face. Yuta couldn’t help his beaming smile as he removed himself from between your thighs as you finally settled from your high.

“I am so sorry! I-I’ve never done that before. Please don’t be mad!” You begged as you took in his damp lips and chin.

“Mad? Baby, why would I be mad? That was so fucking hot. Wanna make you do it again. Come here, give me a kiss. Want you to taste yourself, yeah?” You obliged, rising from the bed to meet your brother halfway. Your lips slotted against his and you marveled at the taste of yourself. You opened up your mouth for Yuta’s tongue to explore, more of your flavor exploding on your tongue at the intrusion. After a moment of sloppy making out, he finally pulled back to smile at you.

“See how good you taste? Such a perfect girl.”

“Did I do good, Yuu?” you ask almost innocently, and Yuta wonders if you planned this, planned to seduce him tonight, planned you make his darkest, filthiest dreams come true. There was no way you were this perfect, this pure and trusting all for him. But looking in your eyes he could see the sincerity, the self-doubt, the need for approval. It made his already hard cock throb with need.

You let out a yelp as Yuta practically tackled you to the bed, pinning you down with his legs on either side of yours and his arms forming a cage around your head. His face hovered over yours, an indiscernible look of intensity in his eyes.

“You did perfect, sweetheart. Fuck, feel that baby? That’s what you do to me,” he said as his hips bucked against yours, grinding his bulge against your soaked core. You moaned as he continued to hump against you like a teenager, bringing your legs to wrap around his hips in an attempt to bring him closer. After several moments, he pulled away, untangling your legs from around his waist.

“Think you’re ready, sweetheart? Wanna give you my cock, want you to cum on it. Think you can?”

“Wanna try, Yuu, need your cock so bad,” you confessed, longing for the feeling and heat of him against you again. You heard him swear as he reached for the waistband of his sweats, yanking them down with his boxers. He quickly pulled them off, abandoning them on the floor with your dress. You let out a gasp when you finally saw his bare cock. It was the biggest you had ever seen in person, and it was so pretty it made your mouth water.

“A-are you sure it’s gonna fit?” you asked hesitantly.

“We’ll make it, yeah? You’re a big girl, you can take it,” he said reassuringly as he took his cock into his hand, stroking it slowly. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the motion, drool pooling in your mouth at the sight. Yuta approached you again, framing your body with his own.

“Where’s that condom you were talking about?”

“Purse.”

“That’s too far,” he said resolutely, reaching over to his nightstand and opening the drawer. He pulled out a square of gold foil and brought it to his mouth before slamming the drawer closed. You watched as he ripped the packet open with his teeth, catching the rubber in his open palm. He spit the wrapper out, and you watched as it fluttered towards the floor. Yuta rocked back onto his heels, sheathing his cock in the condom before returning to cage your body with his.

“I’m gonna put it in now, okay?” he asked as he lined himself up with your slit.

“Yeah, ‘m ready,” you said, feeling the head of his cock press against your opening.

Slowly, Yuta sank into your heat, moaning at the tightness that enveloped him. You whined along with him, the stretch of him burning beautifully as he filled you. You’d never felt so full, so complete. After what felt like ages, he finally bottomed out inside you.

He remained still, giving you time to adjust to the fullness, but you soon grew impatient, rocking your hips down.

“You can move Yuu, want you to.”

That was all the encouragement he needed to begin thrusting into you. Shallow at first, before pulling further out only to fuck into you even deeper. Yuta was perfect, fucking you deep and steady, using his free hand to toy with the nipple that wasn’t in his mouth. You were quickly overstimulated by the feeling of his mouth, cock, and fingers. All you could do was whine combinations of your brother’s name and curses as he fucked you into the mattress.

“You take my cock so fucking well, baby. I was born for you, this dick was made just for you,” he growled against your chest, punctuating his point with a especially deep thrust.

“Love your cock, Yuta! Feels so good!”

“Fuck yeah baby, ready to cum f’me?”

“Yes, yes, wanna cum!” you proclaimed as you felt his hand move from your nipple to your clit. He began rubbing tight circles around the bud as his hips moved relentlessly against yours. He pulled his lips off your nipple with a pop, moving up to kiss your hungry lips.

“Such a good girl for me, such a perfect little sister, letting your big brother fuck your tight little pussy. Gonna let me do it again yeah? Not gonna be satisfied after one time, are you?” He whispered against your lips.

“No, want this all the time, feels so good Yuta! Never stop, ‘m so close, so close!”

“Come on, you can do it. Squirt all over your big brother’s cock baby! Make a mess, make a fucking mess all over me!” he urged, rubbing your clit faster as his thrusts gained speed. His dirty mouth sent you over the edge, the tight band of pleasure in the pit of your tummy snapping. You gushed on Yuta’s cock with a shriek, eyes seeing white as you came. You could barely hear his chants of “Good girl!” as he chased his own high. His hips stuttered and jerked as you milked him, finally stilling as he released his load into the piece of latex that separated you two.

He lowered his damp forehead to rest against yours and the two of you caught your breath. After a few minutes, he pulled out and rolled from on top of you to lay beside you, wrapping you in his strong arms. You cuddled into them without a second thought, relishing in his warmth and protection. You both remained silent the whole time until you felt him take a deep breath.

“Do you…do you regret what we just did?” Yuta asked in a small voice.

“...No. Not even a little bit.”

“Thank god. We don’t have to do it again, I just wanted to make sure th–”

“What if I want to?”

“Huh?”

“What if I want to do it again?” you asked, adjusting so that you could look into his eyes.

“Then you’re gonna have to stop going on dates with shitty men.”

“Done. You’re the only man I need.”

#🩵: writing #jjk x reader #jjk smut #yuta okkotsu x reader #okkotsu yuta x reader #angelshubnetwork #ghostqueues #yuuta okkotsu x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #okkotsu yuta #yuta okkotsu #yuuta okkotsu #okkotsu yuuta #🩵: yuta

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manjibunny · 4 months

Text

Pretty When You Cry

Synopsis: Everything seemed to go so well for you and your best friend, Chifuyu, until you discovered your feelings for him...

C/W: Angst, no comfort, friendship breakup, mentions of gang fights and wounds, mentions of death (no one dies tho), imagery from Greek mythology if you squint, messy as hell, reader is emotionally unavailable and doesn't know how to deal with their feelings, Chifuyu deserves better :/ W/C: 4k + words A/N: Welp, off to a good start in the new year. As previously mentioned in a post, this fic took me a good while to finish. This fic is basically me reflecting on a situation that occured many, many years ago. I was so foolish to destroy something great in favor of keeping my heart safe, but today I'm old enough to know that love is a complicated thing, even if it's just platonic. Tagging luvs @avatarofstars @kokonoiscoconut @nanamikentoseyebags (look, this is the fic I rambled to you months ago!)

Glossary:

Moira = Also known as the fates; Greek goddesses of fate

Atropos = Greek for “unalterable”/ “inflexible”: one of the three Moira; the goddess that cuts the thread (symbolizes life), making her the one that decides ones inevitable fate

Love is a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Stalking its prey and disguising itself as an innocent feeling of adoration, it lulls you into a false sense of security. It’s a soft voice in your head that gently whispers to you, advising, begging, demanding you to lower the walls you’ve built around your heart.

“It’s ok” It’ll whisper to you in an encouraging voice “It’s ok to lower your guard. It’s ok to feel vulnerable. It’s only human that you want to love and be loved”

You were 15 years old when you caved, and you caved for none other than Chifuyu Matsuno.

You wouldn’t have looked twice his way if the circumstances were different.To you he was a troublemaker, someone you’d forget about after graduating highschool. But just like in a classical Greek drama, the Moira already sealed your fate, dooming you to fall right into Chifuyus warm embrace. At the darkest time of your life, he was the sole candle that illuminated the night of your melancholy. His light helped you navigate and keep the demons of the night away. In a way, Chifuyu was your personal safe haven.

Befriending Chifuyu felt like finally putting the last piece into the puzzle. But no matter how strong a bond is, if the Gods demand the ties to be severed, so it be…

Your lungs burned from the lack of oxygen. Not being used to running this much, your legs began hurting as you stormed through the familiar streets. You ignored the voice calling not too far behind you, begging you to stop, to return to him, to talk to him goddamnit. You ignored the pain that shoots through your legs with every step you take and his desperate cries. Your heart thudded against your ribcage as you finally arrived at your destination: Your home, your fortress. You shakily searched for the keys of your home, taking them out of your pocket. Thank God, you found your keys just in time. You swiftly opened the door and entered, not looking back as you slammed the door a bit too loudly behind you. Once you entered your home, you slumped down right before the door, not even bothering to turn on the lights. With trembling hands you brought your knees closer to yourself. Engulfed in the darkness of your home, you were left alone with the memories of Chifuyu Matsuno, the man that the fates have tied you to.

Memories of golden days rushed through your brain. Memories of sitting next to Chifuyu in a cute cafe near your university. You and him have been friends for a while now, not imagining what life would be without the other.

“Look what I’ve found at the bookstore” Chifuyu mused excitedly, “It’s a manga I used to read back in highschool!”

You playfully rolled your eyes at your best friend “Wow, and here I thought you would start reading real literature” You giggled before taking a sip of your coffee.

“This is real literature! Ai Yazawa knows how to write compelling, and most importantly, real characters. Take this manga for instance-” He scooted closer to you, taking the manga out of his backpack before opening it. Being so close to him, smelling his fresh cologne that he recently started to use, and seeing the excited glint in his eyes as he got ready to rave about the manga, made you feel at ease. Without knowing it, Chifuyu would always calm your nerves.

You took a look at the opened manga on the table. Inside you saw beautifully drawn panels. As you took a closer look, you noted that the characters have been drawn very detailed. You especially took note of the extravagant jewelry.

“This manga -” Chifuyu pointed at a panel of two women sitting on what appeared to be a dining table.

“- covers so many serious topics. It covers romance, breakups, loss, grief, loneliness, and much much more!” he sighs “Listen, I know you might think this is silly, but I really want to reread this manga series with you because I feel like you could relate with the characters.”

Humming, you gently took the manga from Chifuyus light grip, your hand lightly brushing against his. You inspected the manga closer, flipping through the pages and skimming through the speech bubbles sporadically before closing it. Upon closing the manga, you teasingly side-eyed your best friend.

“‘Nana’? Really?” You chuckled as you handed the manga back to him.

“I heard of this manga. Man, I wouldn’t have thought that you’d be into that” sighing, you continued your teasing remarks. “Who would have thought?Just when I thought I knew everything about you, I’m learning something new”

Chifuyu flushed at your taunts. He took the manga back and brought it close to his chest.

“I know, I know. Who would have thought that a feared gangster would be into that stuff”

“Feared? You’re Chifuyu Matsuno, not Sano Manjirou”

Throwing a glare at you, you knew this was Chifuyus way of asking you to shut up. You chuckled at Chifuyus blushing angry face. Adorable, you thought to yourself as you took another sip from your coffee.

“I’m just joking. If ‘Nana’ is so important to you, I’m willing to give it a shot” You grinned at him “But we need to find the Saturn shaped earrings. I don’t know much about the plot, but I can tell these characters got style”

Bittersweet memories of you and Chifuyu sitting side by side in silence reading his favorite manga shot through your head. You’d discuss the themes with him, but most importantly, the jewelry of the manga. As it turned out the Saturn shaped earrings were made by the real life designer brand Vivienne Westwood, and staying true to your words, you dragged Chifuyu to a department store that sells Vivienne Westwwod pieces.

You remember entering the department store and being met with the smell of expensive perfumes and the bright colors of designer bags. As you walked further and further into the store, mesmerized by the sheer luxury money could buy, you finally spotted the familiar logo that you’ve been looking for. You grabbed Chifuyus arm and began moving closer to the Vivienne Westwood stand, excitedly pointing at it.

“Fuyu, look! We found it!”

You remember him chuckling at you, you remember the way his eyes sparkled in amusement. But more importantly, you remember forgetting for a second about the earrings upon gazing into his eyes. A wave of emotions so sweet rolled over you, you swore you were drowning in honey. Or perhaps you were drowning in the oceans of his eyes? Brilliant turquoise pools that seemed to drag you deeper and deeper into them, and for the first time in your life, drowning didn’t seem so scary anymore.

Either way, Chifuyu managed to take your breath away that day.

Your hand felt heavy as you mustered up all the strength to lift it to your ear. The metal saturn in your lobe, the earring you and Chifuyu got, felt so cold against your fingertips as the memories kept on replaying.

As it turned out, the earrings were way above your budget. Staring at the rhinestone encrusted studs, your mind began to crank the numbers.

“If I save up, I might get these earrings… in about three months”, you muttered under your breath mindlessly, eyes still focused on the price tag of the earrings you wanted to wear for so long.

You remember Chifuyu Chifuyu placing his hand on your shoulder and smiling warmly at you.

“You know, I always wanted us to have a friendship bracelet…” He trailed off, looking at you expectantly. The gleam in his eyes tells you that Chifuyu is trying to say something, hinting at something that you should understand.

“Yeah? What does that have to do with the earrings?” You bluntly stated, oblivious to his effort to get you to understand what he was trying to say.

“Dummy, you should stop hanging out with Baji-san. His stupidity is rubbing off on you” Chifuyu teased.

“Hey! Now that is insulting, you know? I’m way smarter than he is” You rolled your eyes at your best friend, feeling irked at being lumped into the same category as your dumbass friend, Baji. You were about to bark back an insult about his stupidly round face, or his dumb, edgy hair from middle school, literally anything, just to shut him up. However, knowing how you get defensive, Chifuyu cut you off, not letting you insult him.

“What I was trying to say was, we could also have friendship earrings. You pay for one earring, and I for the other.”

You were left speechless. Chifuyu’s words hit you like a brick, the meaning behind them slowly sinking in. He would pay half the price for the earrings that you wanted so desperately…

The sweet gesture makes you feel fuzzy deep inside. He knew how much you wanted the earrings, so he wanted to make sure you got at least one earring. So thoughtful of him, he cares for his friends a lot… Warmth spread across your body, as you met Chifuyu’s seafoam eyes gazing softly at you. You could make out his trademark smile and a pink hue grazing his face. For the first time, Chifuyu looked different to you.

Side eying the price tag, you were brought back to reality. These earrings were still expensive, even if Chifuyu paid half the price. You didn’t want him to spend his money on you, especially on jewelry.

“You don’t have to-”

“I insist. Besides it’s not like you’re getting the earrings to yourself. We’ll share”

“Still, I would like to-”

“Listen” , Chifuyu cut you off mid sentence once again.

“I will get you the earrings one way or another. If we walk out without the earrings today, I will come back and get the earrings another time. I know how much you want them, so please, let me at least help you out”

Your stomach churned, Chifuyu’s words hitting you right in your heart. Trying to be annoyed at him turned out to be futile, his stubbornness and insistence on getting the earrings made you feel appreciated. You meant a lot to him, and Chifuyu would go out of his way to prove to you that you are dear to him.

You sighed, giving up on all your counterarguments to stop Chifuyu from his plan.

“Fine, but promise me you’ll always wear your earring, ok?”

Chifuyu grinned victoriously at you, his hand reaching to find yours as he softly pulled you towards the counter.

“Of course. I just want to see you happy”

Walking out of the store, you and Chifuyu wore the earrings. You wearing your earring on your right ear, and him wearing his earring on his left ear, you walked through the busy streets of Tokyo in silence. Still unable to comprehend how Chifuyu was able to convince you to have friendship earrings - expensive designer friendship earrings no less - you racked your brain on how you’d thank him. To your surprise, Chifuyu took the initiative.

“The earring suits you a lot. I’m glad I can share this experience with you”

“Gosh Chifuyu, ever the charmer” You teased back, trying to play it cool. He didn’t need to know that his loving words were your kryptonite.

“Oh, I know I’m charming” Chifuyu chuckles as he stops and attempts to tuck your hair behind your ear to look at the earring.

“But I mean it. The earring suits you a lot; you bring out its beauty” Chifuyu gazed into your eyes “I love that we share the pair, you know? Now everyone will know that we are two halves of one whole”

You rolled your eyes at him, your heart beating faster and heat spreading across your face as you heard the latter part.

“You are such a sap, Fuyu. This is why Kazutora and Baji make fun of you”

“Hey!”

Chifuyu took his promise seriously; he never took off his earring. He knew how important it was for you to see the shining silver metal on him, and wearing the earring meant to him to commit to you and your friendship.

Sitting on the cold floor of your apartment, you remembered how your friendship turned into something different, into something that scared you.

As time went on, the boundaries between friendship and romance seemed to blur, and your feelings for your supposed best friend seemed to get more confusing. You found yourself daydreaming about the blonde man, worrying about his well-being and wondering who he's hanging out with when he wasn’t with you. Was he with Baji? The gang? With someone else? Someone prettier?

You’d have to snap yourself out of your thoughts on numerous occasions. What was going on with you? Why the hell did you think about Chifuyu possibly going out on dates, and why did it break your heart?

One particular event seemed to open your eyes to what you felt towards Chifuyu, your best friend.

Worry filled you as the nth text went unanswered. A wave of dread washed over you as the alarms went off in your head after remembering that Chifuyu was supposed to be in one of the shadiest parts of Tokyo, bashing some punk's head. Or getting his head bashed by some punk…

Remembering the way you were practically on your knees, your hands clasped together as you prayed to any God and entity that came to your mind, was bittersweet to you. God, you loved him more than you respect yourself. And you still do.

You remembered that the only thing that was able to stop your uncontrollable sobbing was the familiar sound of your doorbell ringing. Chifuyu…

It was truly remarkable how you were able to sense the person behind your front door was none other than your best friend. One moment, you were a sobbing mess on the floor, and the next, you were a sobbing mess at the door. You remember throwing yourself into the arms of a barely standing Chifuyu, almost knocking him off his feet. Tears soaked his already dirty gang uniform, but neither of you cared. All that mattered to you was that he was in your arms in one piece, alive and breathing.

Chifuyu held you tight. Seemingly having forgotten about his own painful bruises, he softly stroked your tear stricken cheek, cooing reassuringly to you as you felt his warm embrace engulf you.

“It’s fine” Chifuyu would whisper “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere” He knew you so well. He knew you would worry after not responding to any calls or messages, too busy to fight alongside his friends to pick up his phone, so Chifuyu mustered up the little energy he had left and limped to your home. As realization hit you, you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter. You still shook in his arms, tears still falling down your eyes, but for a different reason.

You couldn’t deny it any longer: You were hopelessly in love with Chifuyu, and that fact alone made you unable to sleep. The memories still fresh in your mind of you rolling around in your bed, trying to find fault in the blonde man. You didn’t want to love him as much as you did, so trying to fall out of love seemed like a viable option. You thought hard of his stupid face when he read his favorite manga. But he looks so cute. His crazy devotion to his friends, he would do the most reckless things just to help. But he is so loyal and loving. You thought about his lame jokes, which you still laughed about because how could you not? No matter the way you looked at him, Chifuyu seemed beyond perfect, too good, in your eyes. With a defeated sigh, you gave up trying to find anything wrong with Chifuyu. There wasn’t anything wrong with him.

As time went on, the feelings you’ve been fighting so hard wouldn’t leave. Like a wolf stalking its prey, it was always a step right behind you, breathing right into your neck as it waited to swallow you whole. You feared loving Chifuyu, but you feared not loving Chifuyu as well.

So you withdrew from Chifuyu. Despite the stabbing pain you felt inside your heart as whenever you saw the disappointed and saddened face from the blonde whenever you’d decline hanging out with him, you knew that you had to stay away from him. Maybe the feelings would fade away on their own? You kept trying to tell yourself that loving Chifuyu wasn’t an option. It was either get your feelings under control or never see Chifuyu again. Guilty thoughts spread in your mind and followed you to your sleep, making you unable to rest. How could you ever think about leaving Chifuyu like that?

But oh, the Gods above must be laughing at the spectacle, wheezing as your mind was clouded by the fear of committing. At last, overwhelmed by the dread and lack of sleep, no clear thought was formed as you confronted Chifuyu one last time, to cut the string that connected you two. Everything was a blur, you could barely remember the exact words you uttered to your now ex best friend, but one thing you could never forget, and that was his face. You remember clearly his eyes shooting wide as your words sunk in, his eyebrows knitting together. Chifuyu opened his mouth, to ask you, no, to beg you to stay, but you were unable to look him in the eye with a clear conscience. So you ran to your home.

A loud bang behind you brought you back to reality. Of course Chifuyu wouldn’t just accept defeat. He’d do anything to get you back.

“Please, let’s just talk it out!” Chifuyu demanded behind your door, the banging on the door not faltering. He’s going to hurt himself, you thought, wanting to open the door, and bandage his throbbing hands. In another life, you’d profusely apologize for even thinking about abandoning Chifuyu. In another life, you’d have the courage to face the hungry wolf and allow it to consume you; you’d embrace the beast that was love and come to the understanding that love’s bite isn’t as painful as you originally thought. In another life, you’d give love a chance. But fate is anything but nice, and now you have to suffer through the consequences of throwing away your friendship.

You clasped your hand over your mouth, muffling the sobbing to the best of your abilities. Tears streamed down your face, and judging by the shakiness of Chifuyu’s pleas, you weren’t the only one crying.

“I know you’re listening to me, so please, I can’t just let you cut ties with me like that! Talk to me, we can fix whatever is bothering you!”

And God knows the cruelest answer to the begging of a broken hearted man is silence. But how could you respond when your mind is so loud? Every fiber in your body was screaming, demanding you to answer Chifuyu, to ask for forgiveness and pour your hearts out on him, but you couldn’t allow yourself to open the door. So you didn’t answer him, forcing yourself to remain quiet as the man behind your door couldn’t admit defeat just yet.

“Please, we can even pretend this never happened. I just need you to talk to me”, Chifuyus voice trembled, still of the opinion that his words full of agony could reach you. You had to finally end it, so you took a deep breath to calm yourself. Collecting the little energy that you had left, you were sent the final blow that burned the bridges.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” your words dripping with poison, you projected the disgust you felt towards yourself onto Chifuyu.

“Can’t you see that I just don’t want to be around you? Things have changed, Chifuyu, so be a fucking adult about it and accept my decision”

And with that, the knocking stopped and Chifuyu remained quiet. You held your own breath as you felt regret wash over you. You said way too much. Your words so mean and hateful, words you didn’t even mean, have effectively broken Chifuyu’s will and heart. The silence became so overbearing that you assumed he might have left already, until you heard his voice right behind your door.

“I’m sorry you had to put up with me. I know that it must have been hard for you to make this decision, but you have every right to end our friendship if it feels wrong to you. I accept and respect it, I really do, although it pains me to let you go like that” Chifuyu stayed silent for a moment, his voice still shaky when he continued “I will always treasure the time that I have spent with you. And despite the way that you’ve decided to end it…. I can’t hate you. Goodbye”

And just like that, Chifuyu left and took a piece of your heart with him. You felt numb, never having anticipated that you’d lose yourself in the process of letting go of Chifuyu. It’s for the better, you tried to tell yourself, but your broken heart knew better. Your attempt at standing up failed, your legs and arms weren’t able to carry you to your bedroom, so you remained seated on the cold floor, your back still pressed against your door. Before you knew it, sleep had taken over you, kidnapping you to a time and place much merrier.

Dreaming of gleaming seafoam eyes contorted in pain as tears rolled down his rosy cheeks, you couldn’t even escape Chifuyu in your sleep, but oh, he still looked so pretty to you. You wanted to reach out to him so desperately, but you just couldn’t move. You didn’t even have the chance to admire him any longer, as a knock on the door awoke you from your slumber. Groaning, you cursed at the person that had woken you up. Grumbling, you managed to stand up with shaky legs. The person behind the door seemed eager, the knocking not seeming to end anytime soon. So, you opened the door to see an empty hallway. Were you imagining things? Have you gone insane at this point? Or did someone play a childish prank on you?

Feeling fed up, you attempted to slam the door shut, however, something was blocking it from closing. You saw a small package from a familiar online retailer and mentally slapped yourself. Of course you’d get whatever you’ve ordered at the worst time possible. Bending down, you stretched your arms to pick up the package, until you spotted something silver on your doormat. All thoughts about the package left your mind as you inspected the shiny object, already dreading what it was.

In your hand, you held a small saturn shaped earring, the perfect twin to the one you were wearing.

“No”, you breathed out, as your suspicions got confirmed. The silver Vivienne Westwood earring Chifuyu wore as a symbol for your friendship. He must have taken it off and placed it on the doormat after I demanded he’d leave… You knew that this was ultimately what you wanted, cutting contact with Chifuyu to fall out of love, but holding the symbol of your friendship in your hand was a special kind of pain.

So you took the earring inside, having forgotten about the package, and went to your bedroom. Heading to grab your jewelry box, you placed the Chifuyu’s earring inside. With a heavy heart, your hands moved to your ear, slowly taking off your own earring and placing it right beside the other one. You knew this was the right thing to do, after all, at least the earrings could be a perfect pair together.

#chifuyu matsuno #chifuyu x reader #chifuyu angst #ghostqueues #chifuyu x reader angst #tokyo revengers chifuyu #tr chifuyu #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers angst #tokyo revengers x reader angst #tr x reader #tr angst #chifuyu matsuno x reader

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bachibabe · 4 months

Text

pairing : kuroo tetsurou x fem!reader

wc : 1.2k

content : tit play/groping, kuroo is kinda toxic but it’s fine, soft towards the beginning and more toxic towards the end

18+ → minors / blank blogs dni

The pale white suds dance across your breasts. The pretty pink loofah scrubbing away a hard day's work. Scrubbing the misfortune that seems to permeate your skin away, wissfully washing it down the drain. A sigh leaves your lips, a huddled murmur of relaxation falling from them as you finally allow your shoulders to sag. Allow the hot water to de-tense your muscles. It isn’t as good as a masseuse, but it will do. It has to for now. Dinner still needs to be made. Chores still to be done.

Your brain is is starting to pick up speed, a swell of muscle tightening in your lower back at the mere thought of having to continue with the atrocities of adulthood. Yes, the dishes do count as an atrocity. You’re sure of it. So do the vegetables that need to be chopped, so does the meat that needs to be fried. Stomping your legs won’t do anything, no matter how much you wish it would.

A pout comes to your lip. A kicked puppy, yeah. That’s what you are. Poor thing. Too much, too hard for you. If only Kuroo was home. His business trip is taking too long. Too time consuming. You miss him. Miss him far too much for your liking. But he helps. He makes the world just a tad bit easier. Even when purple grows under both his eyes and your own, he still manages to relax your tightened frame. Holding you close. Telling you not to worry.

But this business trip was necessary, blah blah. You know that it is true, but that doesn't mean you like any second of it. You rely on him, he's made sure of it. He likes it that way, really. The words have come from his own lips. So here you find yourself, craving something that cannot possibly be reached. Washing off the make-up you applied that morning. When the air seemed happier, lighter. The dark of sundown always makes you a tad melancholy.

“What the fuck!!” The last shred of relaxation is ripped from your very bones when the curtain is forced open, cold air hitting your naked form. You panic, fear rushing through you as you do your best to cover your body with your arms, shouting at whoever dare interrupts your warm sanctuary.

The red of fear quickly fades from your vision, your eyes focusing on the shirtless figure in front of you. One that you quickly recognise. Black bedhead, one arm stretched behind his head. A yawn echoing the back of his throat. Oh my god, it’s your asshole. The one you’ve been missing so dearly.

A string of obscenities leave your throat, a soap bar soaring towards his head as you shout for no reason in particular. The shock that he’s home, the realisation that you must’ve missed him sleeping in your bed. The fact he’s staring at you with that annoying , simple smirk on his face. Watching your body, your arm barely covering anything. You whine, holding a shampoo bottle as your next weapon as he holds his hands up, feigning innocence where there is none.

“Calm down, calm down. I just came to see my pretty girl.” That confident grin that makes girls fall to their knees. That's the tactic of war he’s using today. It’s a lie, you both know it is. “I came home early.” He’s already taking off his clothes, the invite doesn't need to be said.

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest as he steps into the shower, “You didn’t have to scare me like that Roo!” He did, well, he wanted to. He likes scaring you a little. Maybe more than he likes to admit. Your cute little scrunched up face, your insults that are about as light as a feather. The flicker of fear in your eye. He likes it all.

He simply shrugs, arms wrapping around you from behind. Head resting on your shoulder as he closes his eyes. Hums, still drowsy from jet lag even with his nap. His hands touch you casually, rubbing circles into your delicate skin. Moving from your waist to feel you properly. Hold you like he cares.

“Mhmm, tell me all about it later, yeah pretty?” He grabs your body wash– mango scented. Did you run out of the strawberry while he was away? Poor thing, how did you manage without him.

You don’t stop him as he rubs the liquid between his fingers, even though you had already cleaned yourself. You don’t stop him as his hands roam your chest, pretending to just be cleaning the peaks. His hand squeezing, fondling you with no protest under the innocent practice of washing his girlfriend. Casual touches are the most dangerous, especially from a man like Tetsurou.

His left hand gently squeezes your flesh, palming it like a true gentleman would. The soap acts as a sort of lubricant, allowing him to easily slide his fingers over your nipple. Pinching the flesh, twisting it just enough to make your breath falter, to cause your knees to want to slide from under you. But he just acts as if nothing happened, moving back to casually squeezing your breast, rubbing the soap in just right.

His right hand lowers itself. It’s dangerous. More so than you’d like to admit. You’ve forgotten all other sensations save for his hands on your needy body. One that has missed him so much. One that just can’t seem to get off without his touch. You can’t feel the water begin to grow cold, your toes pruning, the cock pressed hard against your back. No, you can only focus on the hand that lowers itself to where you desire him. Where slick has formed at the thought of him touching you so gently. Where you wish his fingers would thrust into you, stretch you, make you feel full.

He hums. He smiles something wicked. One that shows the points of his teeth. Yet, you are too far gone to truly notice it. What a wreck you are, huh? Such a needy thing. So desperate for any ounce of him. It’s cute, really. You’ll just let him touch you however he wants. However he likes with no complaint? Ah, This must be what leaving you alone does. The fight is gone, the brattiness that always penetrates your encounters has been eradicated.

This is what an addiction must feel like. Well, as close as someone could get to being addicted to another human. Taking away his presence, his very being leaves you as nothing but a cute little toy. He can do better. You both can huh? Maybe he’ll make his meeting go a little longer next time. See what that might do. Ah, but he’s getting too ahead of himself.

For now, he’s just meant to enjoy this shower with you. Pump his fingers deep inside of your needy hole, hear you beg in that cute little crestfallen tone. Feel your bodies pressed together after so long. Indulge in each other. Help the other relax. Then he might be able to look towards the future.

Mhmm. Happy wife, happy life.

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fengxun · 4 months

Text

BAD IDEA (FORGET ABOUT IT, FORGET ABOUT ME) – QUANXI X READER

It’s a bad idea. You know it is. Even fucking worse now that you realise that you’re no longer doing this for sexual pleasure. You’re doing it for her affection, even if it only comes with her hand around your throat or between your thighs. Or, the one where you’re not lovers, just strangers, and you’re fine with it. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

CONTENT.⠀NSFW; female reader; friends with benefits, unrequited pining, angst, slight power imbalance (quanxi is mc’s superior), alcohol, mentions of medication, unhealthy relationships, hurt/no comfort, original character deaths, mentions of blood. Canon divergent, but takes place after the events of Part 1. ~6.5k words

NOTES.⠀my first fic of 2024 lets gooo baby HAPPY NEW YURI!!!! this is my contribution to my thank u, next collab :) likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! this is the most self-indulgent I’ve ever written but I hope you enjoy regardless;;

also on ao3 | @angelshub @bitchcraftinc @enchantedforest-network @ghostqueue

You never think twice.

It runs in the family, you think. Your father was an insanely reckless devil hunter, your mother was impulsive even in the worst situations, and your brother did things just for the thrill. It’s ironic that for people with a job that relies on survival instinct, they had none at all. Impulsivity runs in your family, and there will soon come a day when it will get you killed the same way it did with them. That’s fine. Death doesn’t scare you, not anymore. He’ll come bearing his scythe when his time comes, taking your soul to where it needs to be, and you’ll let it happen when it does.

Public Safety wasn’t your first option. Being a professional devil hunter wasn’t, either. You wanted to pursue something less violent, like someone who could help improve a community’s welfare. You wanted kids to grow up better than you did. But with devils roaming the streets and the lack of the ‘strong-hearted,’ it came as no surprise that you had to give up on what you’d initially hoped. You’re still pissed about it years later in your career. The younger you wanted to help the world.

In a way, you got what you wanted. It just wasn’t the way you wanted it to happen.

You think you’re more familiar with firearms and blades than you are with flowers and crayons now. Your hands, once soft and delicate, are now scarred and calloused, stained with the blood of those you had to slay and lose in combat. Your heart, once full of hope and kindness, is now cold as ice. The innocence and joy you used to have were cruelly ripped out of your hands and crushed into pieces you can never put together again.

But you don’t have time to miss who you used to be, nor do you have the time to dream anymore. You have to survive in a world where danger lurks in every corner. You will pass the days instead of living them, letting them hurt you and bury misery deep in your bones, but you will survive, if not by sheer determination or instinct.

The drink you’re having burns your throat. Though you weren’t previously a drinker, having seen how it changed people like it did to your father, there’s nothing else you can turn to. You never liked bars either, yet here you are, sitting all by your lonesome. People change, whether it’s out of their volition or against their will. You don’t know where you fall between those categories.

The longer you stare into space, the more you tune out the world around you. You feel as though you aren’t here, but somewhere else. It’s been happening more often than you’d like—zoning out, feeling like you’re not in control of your body, vulnerable. You’re more annoyed by it than you are concerned. You’re a professional devil hunter, bound to an organisation that could dispose of you without a second thought if you fail them. There is no time for weakness. Your training and years of work have taught you that the hard way.

By the time you come back to your senses, your glass is already empty. A frown tugs at the corners of your lips. You’ve half a mind to order another shot to feel something other than perpetual numbness and exhaustion, but ultimately decide against it. Your tolerance isn’t as high as Kishibe’s is, after all. Who knows what will happen if you bite off more than you can chew? You don’t, and more importantly, you don’t want to deal with the consequences.

With a sigh, you leave the bar. The bells above the door chime as the door opens and exposes you to the winter air. A chill runs down your spine, making you shiver involuntarily. You’ve never been fond of the cold. It’s miserable, it makes you lethargic, and it’s a pain to get through without getting sick. You hate the shitty apartment you live in and the equally shitty radiator that came with it too, but this time around, you actually can’t wait to be home. You suppose there are still some things to look forward to, no matter how mundane they may be.

“Hm. Didn’t expect to see anyone out at this hour.”

You turn to see Quanxi leaning against a wall with a cigarette between her lips and the same deadpan expression you’re used to seeing her wear. Instinctively, you bow your head in greeting, though she makes no move to respond to it. Briefly you realise how you’ve never had a proper conversation with her, only good mornings here and there whenever you happen to cross paths. This is the first time she’s properly acknowledged you as something else other than one of Kishibe’s many juniors he ‘babysits,’ as he would say.

The wind blows the nicotine in your direction, causing you to grimace instinctively. In an attempt to cover it, you clear your throat and reply, “I couldn’t sleep.”

“I thought you didn’t like being out at night.”

“I don’t,” you say with a wry smile. “Why are you out at this hour, Miss Quanxi?”

“I couldn’t sleep either.” With a sigh, she pushes herself off the wall and finds her place by your side. “I’ll walk you home. I’m going in the same direction anyway.”

You have a feeling she’s not going to take no for an answer, so all you do is nod and go along with her. It puts you on edge, being so close to someone you’ve always held in high regard. It’s also strange, in a good way, to be alone with a woman like her. Up until a few moments ago, you didn’t even know she was aware of you at all. You find that you like having her beside you like this. It makes you feel safe, protected, and in a way you can’t pinpoint why, like you belong.

The apartment building looms overhead and stands among electrical lines and small stores. The lightbulb in front of the elevator flickers before it goes out, leaving the hallway too dim for your liking. Anxiety starts to bubble at the pit of your stomach. You don’t know if it’s because of the dark or if it’s because of how close she’s standing to you. As your finger hovers over the button, you glance at her and blurt out, “Would you like to come in?”

She blinks as if she wasn’t expecting you to say that. She probably wasn’t. Heat rises to your cheeks and paints them with shame. You tend to speak before you think, which has both worked in your favour and against it.

(You never learn.)

“It’s cold outside,” you try to reason. “You could come in for tea, warm up for a bit before you go. I’d feel bad if I let you leave without anything.”

“I don’t need anything from you.”

Your face burns. You should’ve thought she’d say no. You should’ve thought more. Of course, the Quanxi has no reason to stay and chat with you. She’s not the kind of person to do such a thing. She’s stoic, unapproachable, and–

“But if you insist, I’ll come in,” she says, interrupting you just before your brain is about to go into overdrive. “I could use a break anyway.”

She follows you into the cramped elevator without another word. It’s hard to keep your cool as you’re all too slowly taken up the building. With trembling hands, you unlock the door to your apartment. Your nerves are going haywire for reasons you can’t begin to fathom. You ignore them the best you can.

“Tea? Coffee?” you ask. You like to think you’re pretty good at keeping your composure, but you’re not so confident tonight. It’s fine. You’re being considerate, nothing more, so there’s no need to be so nervous. You’re just being a good host.

“Tea is fine.”

“Alright. Um, have a seat. I’ll be done in a minute.”

She takes off her shoes at the doorway before stepping into the living area, glancing around wordlessly. You hope she doesn’t mind the mess on the coffee table, even if it’s only receipts, newspapers and some blister packs you keep forgetting to throw out. Normal, mundane things. You haven’t had the time or drive to organise your place lately. You wish you did. For anything in general, really.

You’re surprised how stable your hands are this time around as you carry the tray towards where she’s sitting on the couch. She takes the mug with a barely audible thanks and you take your own. The couch isn’t small by any means. It’s old, yes, but it’s more than enough to seat two people. For some reason, it feels like it’s smaller. You’re close enough that your knees brush against each other. You try not to think about how this is the closest you’ve ever physically been to someone in years.

You almost want to scoff at that. It’s never occurred to you (or rather, you prefer not to think about it) how deprived you are of warmth and contact. Every day consists of you passively following a monotonous routine. People like you don’t get the chance to be close to someone, physically and emotionally, not when they can be taken away from you in the blink of an eye. You should be used to it by now.

You don’t think you can ever be.

“Is it okay?” Your voice is soft, hesitant. “It’s not too sweet?”

“It’s fine.”

You don’t know if Quanxi is one for small talk. You highly doubt it, but still, you find yourself chattering away. You talk about almost forgetting your keys in the morning, about how friendly your neighbours are despite their intimidating appearance, about the dog that greets you every morning and every time you come back.

Self-consciousness suddenly threatens to consume you whole when you catch how much you’ve been rambling in your flustered state. You can’t tell if she’s actually listening or if she’s only humming and nodding along so you’d stop eventually. Maybe you should.

The sudden silence makes her look at you curiously. “What’s wrong?”

“I, ah, nothing.” You shake your head. “I forgot what I was going to say.”

“You were talking about your last mission,” she offers. You’re almost disappointed that she had been listening to you. “The bodyguard one.”

You didn’t expect that.

“Right… I’m sorry, Miss Quanxi. I didn’t realise how long I’ve been keeping you here. Would you like me to see you out?”

“I don’t mind. You sound interesting.” She places the cup down and leans back against the cushions, getting herself comfortable. You aren’t sure if you should take it as a compliment or something. “And Quanxi is fine. I’m not Kishibe.”

“Of course! I’m sorry, Miss—I mean, Quanxi.”

Names have always been important to you; hers isn’t any different. But as her name rolls off your tongue, you find that you like how it feels. Familiar, like you’ve been saying it for years. In the back of your mind, you wonder if she knows your name—she hasn’t uttered it once since she spotted you outside the bar.

Somehow, that makes you sadder than you should be.

“You live alone?” she asks. Your mind goes blank for a moment. Is she interested in you? No, that can’t be. She’s just making conversation. She probably pities you for the fact that you’re the only one doing the talking.

“I do. Have been since I was seventeen,” you say, cutting off your train of thought before it gets worse. “I don’t have a girlfriend either.”

You don’t realise what you’ve blurted out until Quanxi hums curiously.

Why did you say that? Why do you say anything?

“You don’t?”

“No,” you mumble. You avert your gaze to the side, nervousness taking hold of you once more. “Are you… Interested? In me?”

When you finally look back at her, her face is only inches away from yours. You stare at her wide-eyed. A myriad of emotions swirls deep in your chest as you stutter and stammer, your lips parting then closing like a fish out of water.

“Maybe,” she answers, and the apology you were going to say dies on your tongue.

Your heart is threatening to burst out of your chest with how fast it thumps in the confines of your ribcage. Despite the winter outside, it feels hot—you feel hot, like you’re standing by a burning flame. You think you’ve short-circuited when she gently tilts your head up with her fingers and leans in to kiss you with a softness usually reserved for a lover.

And because you never think twice, you don’t hesitate to comply when she urges you to sit on her lap. Your arms wrap around her neck and it doesn’t take long before the kiss turns more heated, before you start grinding against her. Cold digits trail across your skin and crawl between your thighs, smoothly unbuttoning your trousers to reveal what they’re searching for.

Hesitantly, you pull away to catch your breath. You can hardly understand what’s happening, and maybe you don’t have to, but there’s a deep longing to hear it directly from her.

“Miss Quanxi!” Whatever you’re trying to say gets interrupted with a gasp as her fingers dip past the waistband of your panties. “What are you—”

“Helping you relax,” she replies nonchalantly. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how tense you’ve been since we got here.”

You’re not sure you can handle seeing how attentively she’s watching your expressions right now, so you squeeze your eyes shut. It doesn’t help, not when you can feel everything at once, from her heated expression to her sinfully adept fingers.

There’s a voice in the back of your mind telling you that this is wrong, unfair, but when she brushes over a spot that has you shivering against her hand, the thought ebbs away like it was never there at all.

You don’t want her to stop.

Maybe the strange heavy feeling within your chest is just anxiety from not being in a situation like this for a long time. Maybe it’s what your classmates used to call ‘butterflies in your stomach’ because you’re with someone you admire. Reason slips out of your reach with every curl of her fingers against your walls, and it’s almost embarrassing how quickly you’re reaching the edge. The sight of her doing something to you that only lovers do to each other isn’t helping your case, either.

Her name leaves your lips in a pathetic whine. “Quanxi—”

“Let go,” she murmurs, her lips brushing against your cheek, “Let me take care of you.”

Your orgasm washes over you like the sea crashes against the shore, rendering you breathless and teary-eyed from how overwhelming everything feels. She doesn’t relent until you weakly wrap your hand around her wrist in a poor attempt to stop her from breaking you any further. She eventually pulls her hand away and brings her fingers up to your mouth, imperceptibly smiling at how you take them in without question. Seemingly satisfied, she withdraws and lets you slump against her body, tuckered out and boneless.

“Look at you,” she coos, her voice dripping with endearment. She’s probably used to saying these things and getting these reactions, and as bitter as you may feel about it, they have your heart racing nonetheless. You’re not used to praise. In your entire life, you’ve only been satisfactory, yet here she is praising you for doing nothing except surrender yourself to her. You part your lips to speak, only to be interrupted.

“Don’t worry about me.”

It’s almost worrisome how she can tell what’s on your mind so effortlessly. With a huff, you bury your face in the crook of her shoulder. You doubt you can look her in the eye without saying or doing something embarrassing.

“But…” you mumble out.

“I can take care of myself.”

You frown, though you don’t argue with the finality in her tone. Your body gradually relaxes as she runs her fingers up and down the length of your spine. It’s getting difficult to stay awake when you feel so sated, so safe. Eventually, without realising it, your blinking slows down and you start to drift off in her arms, growing blissfully unaware of the world around you.

—

You wake up in your bed dressed in yesterday’s clothes.

Quanxi must’ve carried you here before she left. Your vision slowly adjusts to the change in lighting as you look out the window by your side. It seems that people have already gotten their day started, judging from the cars moving down the road and the dogs barking in response to the disturbance they bring. You’re groggy and your thoughts are unclear, leaving you more wearied than you’d normally be. A dull ache rings in your head, growing stronger when you push yourself out of bed and trudge to the bathroom to freshen up.

Your mind feels like it’s shrouded with fog. You’re beginning to think going to the bar yesterday was a mistake. You tend not to dwell too much on the consequences of what you do, only what satisfies you in that moment. It’s a bad habit you can’t seem to get rid of. But it’s far too early to think—in fact, you’d rather not do it at all—so you clumsily grab the shower valve and let the water wash away yesterday’s events. It takes a couple of tries to find it, but you make it nonetheless. A curse escapes you at the unexpected cold that has you jolting awake against your will. You suppose you did need that rude awakening.

The word ‘mistake’ seems to echo in your mind louder and louder as you struggle to properly button up your shirt with sluggish hands. You’re pretty sure one of your socks is mismatched, but you don’t really have the energy to change them. You glance at the bottle of painkillers in your cabinet. You never quite liked taking these things even if they’re supposed to help you. You didn’t like having ‘too much’ in your system. A bit ironic, considering all the supplements and medication you’ve had in your lifetime.

Bitterly, you take them. You can’t have something so inane affect your efficiency at work.

The headquarters is already busy when you arrive. Camaraderie isn’t a thing here, so the atmosphere already feels stiff and awkward. You suppose it’s reasonable, having gone through a few losses yourself. In a world like this, you simply can’t get attached to anyone. You shouldn’t. After all, they can be ripped out of your hands, ripped apart until the only proof of their existence is their blood stained on your skin. It’s not ‘hating the world’ or ‘being unapproachable;’ it’s a way to protect the other person. In a way, it protects you too.

Your mind reels back to last night now that you’re more awake. The way she held you. The way she just knew your body like the back of her hand. The way she kissed you. Only lovers touch each other like that, your mother used to tell you, but you’re not lovers even if it felt like it. The intimate moments you shared threaten to bring tears to your eyes as they play through your mind again like a film reel. The memory of her lips against your skin, of her holding you as if you were made of porcelain. They’re likely nothing to her, but they’re everything to you.

So how are you meant to brush off something like that so easily? When you’ve never had or let anyone touch you in such a way? What is it about her that had you caving in without a second thought? What is it about her that has your emotions going into overdrive?

The coffee nearly burns your tongue and leaves behind a bitter aftertaste in your mouth. Now isn’t the time to be thinking about this. And sure, maybe the coffee wasn’t a good idea either, but what does it matter? All you have to do is work, hopefully stay alive, and come back to a boring life after a long day of saving the city. What happened last night was only a one-time thing. There’s no reason to mull over it again.

You unceremoniously toss the paper cup into the trash. Coffee was not a good idea.

The day, although surprisingly uneventful, is spent writing reports and being in the worst mood you’ve ever been in. Thankfully you didn’t need to talk to anyone, save for Kishibe who dropped by earlier to see if you were still alive.’ It was oddly kind of him to do. You’re more used to him being distant or plain merciless like he was to the chainsaw boy and the blood fiend. It’s nice to have someone look for you, think of you, even if it’s for such a grim reason.

You were tidying up for the day when your coworker approached you with a smile on her face. ‘Do you wanna come get drinks with us?’ she had asked. Seeing as you didn’t have plans for the rest of the evening—you never do—you agreed. A couple of drinks won’t hurt.

It’s not that difficult to spot your colleagues and seniors in the izakaya. It’s hard to miss them, actually, when one of them is excitedly calling your name and waving you over. They’re already drunk. You understand them, you think. You generally dislike feeling inebriated and what comes after, but with the current path you’re on, it’s the only source of comfort you have.

You grimace. You really have become your father.

The table is cluttered with beer cans and unfinished plates of snacks. Kishibe sits silently in the corner. He’s opted to bring his own drink this time around and barely acknowledges you with a glance. There are a couple other seniors you don’t recognise. With a bow that feels more perfunctory than it does respectful, you greet them and quietly slide into the booth.

Quanxi sits across from you, calm and collected like always. She doesn’t say hello to you with the same enthusiasm that her colleagues had, though she does nod and subtly raise her glass at you. Flustered, you blink, you purse your lips, and then finally you get it together and smile at her, the same way one would when seeing an old friend. Sure, that isn’t what she is, she’s just your senior, but you’d rather stay on her good side. You’ve seen how she dealt with that Hirofumi boy when they both came back last year. As attractive as you found it, you also don’t want to end up being someone she regards coldly.

You shake your head. Why are you worrying so much about what she’d think of you? All she did was acknowledge your presence. Luckily, one of your colleagues (someone you recognise, thank god) notices you and starts to ask all about your day. It’s enough to keep you busy. It’s also surprising you aren’t drained yet, considering how much more talkative they are compared to you.

“This is why I’m trying to help you out of your shell!” they playfully chide once you trail off, feeling self-conscious. “We want to get to know you better! Don’t be shy. Come on, tell me. What have you been up to?”

“I’ve been—”

Whatever phrase you were thinking of immediately goes forgotten when you feel someone’s foot brush against your ankle. You’re nearly seized with panic before you make eye contact with Quanxi and realise that it’s her doing. Somehow, it doesn’t do much to calm your racing heart. She seems so nonchalant, casually smoking her cigarette as if she isn’t threatening to make a mess of you with something so simple.

They furrow their eyebrows in concern. “You okay?”

“Y-Yeah! Sorry,” you reply sheepishly. “I’ve been… well, busy. There’s a lot of backlog I still need to catch up on.”

Quanxi doesn’t do much after that, something you’re thankful for. Perhaps she took pity on you. Tearing your gaze away from her, you turn back to your colleague with a strained smile. You hope they won’t notice how you’ve tensed up and how your smile doesn’t reach your eyes.

“W-What about you?”

It’s even more surprising that you can still speak while feeling so tongue-tied. Your conversation partner starts to chatter away, talking about everything and nothing, which you try your best to stay invested in. It makes for quite a good distraction, and Quanxi doesn’t tease you again until your colleagues begin to leave one by one. Until you’re eventually left alone with her.

You bite the inside of your cheek nervously. Her surprising you earlier could’ve been an accident, so nothing is stopping you from going home. You should go home. It’s not like she wants you to stay, right? She’s probably waiting for you to leave so she can do the same thing. You try to think of a polite way to excuse yourself, but nothing comes to mind and the words are stuck in the back of your throat.

“You’re thinking too much.”

You’re sober. Sober enough to be able to function, but not enough to notice that Quanxi has moved to sit next to you with her hand on your thigh. She leans in close to press a kiss to your neck, an invitation. A promise. You watch as her lithe fingers teasingly skim across your inner thigh, dancing dangerously close to your core. Your eyes remain on her hand, how it feels pressed against you, so warm and perfect—

“Not here,” you breathe, “H-Home.”

The night passes by in a blur. Before you know it, she has you on her bed, your cheeks flushed and your clothes torn from your body. Everything feels warmer, stronger, and you don’t know if it’s because you’re tipsy or if it’s because you’re pent up, but it doesn’t matter. You can’t think of anything, not when she keeps taking your breath away time and time again with every roll of her hips. Moans and broken syllables of her name leave your lips, doused in lust and whatever remaining modesty you have left.

Once isn’t enough for her. Your thighs are trembling as she pushes you into the blankets, keeping a tight grip on your shoulder as the sound of her thighs slapping against yours fills the room. The lewd noises leaving your body make your cheeks burn, and you wonder if she can feel how warm they are against her thighs when she finally lets you return the favour with your tongue. You’re sloppy and unpracticed, you know you are, but when she says your name and tells you that you’re so good for her, your heart soars.

Eager to please, you stay for what feels like an hour before she has you on your back and her fingers inside you once again. She doesn’t stop until you’re a teary-eyed, trembling mess beneath her. She doesn’t stop until your voice is hoarse from how loud you’ve been. Sleep comes easy to you that night; once more, you nestle close to her side and drift off, completely spent. The same way you did last night; only this time, she doesn’t hold you.

She’s gone by the time you wake up, and her taste lingers on your tongue as you leave her apartment feeling satiated but hollow.

—

You don’t know when meeting up with Quanxi just to fuck became a regular thing, but it did.

It’s a bad idea. You know it is. Even fucking worse now that you realise that you’re no longer doing this for sexual pleasure. You’re doing it for her affection, even if it only comes with her hand around your throat or between your thighs. You know it’s a bad idea when you always leave her place feeling used. Emotions have never been your strong suit—you’re not made to think, you’re made to do—but the whirlwind and the paradox have set you a few steps back. From what, you don’t know; all you know is that you can’t move on without her, without something more from her.

It bothers you how you both go back to work and act like you don’t know each other. It bothers you how she doesn’t even notice you when you happen to walk by. It bothers you how she feels so distant even though everything you’ve ever done with her has been things only lovers do. It bothers you how much you feel like you need her to satisfy you in more ways than what she’s currently doing. It’s not meant to be something serious. You’ve known that the moment she kissed you.

A distraction is all you are. A vice, like her drinks and her cigarettes and the other women. Something she has readily available to her, and because it’s Quanxi, you let it happen. You think she’s worth the turmoil in your mind. Why wouldn’t she be? She knows your body like the back of her hand, knows what you like, knows what you need. You’ll grin and bear it, accept the love she gives you on sleepless nights, and come whenever she calls.

Work has been busy enough for the past week or two. You were sent on a mission to somewhere in the south, ordered to exterminate a cluster of fiends and granted temporary leave after one of them managed to give you a nearly fatal wound. You don’t think she even knows that you were at the hospital until you had enough blood in your veins to heal again. It’s fine. Of course it is. She’s as busy as you are, if not more, and she has her own things to worry about.

You haven’t seen her in a while. Not at work, not at the bar you frequent. It harrows and relieves you at the same time because you feel her wherever you go. You walk in crowds hoping that she’ll be among them. You stay out hours after the work day ends hoping that you’ll bump into her. You keep your ears open hoping that you’ll hear something about her, or if you’re lucky enough, hear her calling your name. You don’t know how she’s woven her existence into your life this much, nor do you know what you want from her. But it’s not that necessary to put a stop to something you need, is it?

It’s fine if she doesn’t need you for anything else beyond sex. It’s fine that your love (is it even so?) goes unreciprocated. It’s fine if you feel cold in her embrace, and it’s fine that she’ll never be yours the same way you are hers. If this is a ‘bad idea,’ then you’ll make the most out of it—anything to keep you happy, anything to please her.

As long as she still knows your name, and as long as she still wants you, it’s enough.

It’s a particularly rough day when you leave an abandoned building with blood on your sleeves. You know your job isn’t done yet. There are reports you have to write, some civilians you need to check on, but you’re not confident that you can keep your impatience and anger under control. You’re tired, miserable, and you’re wondering if those pills do help you or if you’ve been lied to again. A cold shower and coffee weren’t enough to wake you this morning. The so-called soothing balm did nothing to heal the ache in your neck, and things went downhill insanely quickly. Today’s mission was the worst one you’ve ever had. You couldn’t save your partner in time. Their life was syphoned out of their body as they cried—no, begged you to help them, and all you could do was watch it happen.

The weight of your sword on your back feels heavier when you think of your failure today. A good craftsman never blames his tools. Can you say the same thing about yourself? Your weapon is an extension of you. The blade hasn’t dulled, but you have. It makes you feel even worse to know that you aren’t competent at the one thing you can do. If you were, you could’ve saved your partner, the one before that, and the others you lost along the way. Their blood will always be on your hands no matter how much you clean them. You’re quite sure there’s still a splatter on your shirt, but you are so, so tired. Stains are the least of your concerns.

The path to the bar is more familiar than it should be. You can barely register the worried and fearful glances people send you as you walk by them, exhausted and dishevelled. Hell, the bartender isn’t even shocked when you take a seat. He’s seen you more times than he can count. Not as many while you’re looking this beat up, though he takes it well enough. Wordlessly, he brings you your regular order. He doesn’t bother you again after that.

The burn barely fazes you anymore. You settle down the glass a bit harder than you should’ve, making you wince. You don’t want another thing to go wrong today. Quite frankly, you just want it all to be over, so you can retire, rest and visit the places you’ve always wanted to go to. Maybe get married, have a family, or adopt a pet. What a normal entails isn’t that known anymore. You’ll take anything at this point.

“Rough day?”

Quanxi leans on her side against the counter, running her gaze up and down your form. It should make you feel embarrassed, what with the current state you’re in, but you don’t think you can even care anymore.

You chuckle humorlessly. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

It doesn’t occur to you until moments later that this is your first time seeing her in weeks. A part of you feels relieved to know that she’s fine, she’s here, and another part of you is in disbelief that she still wants to talk to you despite the state you’re in. You can’t decide whether that’s endearing or pitiable.

“Wanna talk about it?”

You’ve already made several bad decisions, what’s another one going to do? You can drink the whole night, or you can do something that’ll make you feel good and forget for a little while. You cut to the chase, staring down into the glass. “My place or yours?”

She blinks, bewildered, then she speaks up again, “You can come to mine.”

The world doesn’t come back to you until you’re in her apartment again, already out of breath as you try to keep up with her hungry kisses. They’re addicting, borderline overwhelming, but you always crave for more, more, more. Her hands are on your hips and tonight she touches you with a gentleness that wasn’t present in your other trysts. Her touches are featherlight, treating your body like it’s made out of glass, and for some reason unknown to you, it’s more than enough to make you break into tears.

You pull her closer, your arms wrapped around her waist as you sob into her shoulder. She doesn’t say anything, only rubs soothing circles on your back and lets you cry your heart out. Conflicting feelings make their way into your heart, holding it tight within its suffocating grasp. You want her to say something, but at the same time, you don’t. You want to ignore everything, have her make you forget, but you also don’t want to.

Then you can finally breathe. Your cries turn into sniffles. Your breathing is shakier than it should be, but it gradually calms down. Her collar is stained with your tears, marked with your vulnerability, your weakness. It’s hard to speak. The silence kills you inside, breaks down every wall you’ve put up around you. You crumble before her, your nails lightly digging into her back as she gently lays you down on the bed. You’re still holding on to her when she tries to get up.

“I’ll get you some water,” she says. You think it’s the softest she’s ever sounded. Your hand lingers on hers for a moment before you reluctantly let her go, too worn out to ask or argue.

When she comes back, she crawls into her side of the bed. No words are shared as you curl up close to her. Her heartbeat steadily lulls you to sleep while she pulls you closer with her hand on your back, tucking your head beneath her chin.

And just like last time and the time before that, you wake up alone.

Your head hurts. Your body aches all over, hurting with the smallest movement, but you manage. Some water spills when you drink, which you haphazardly wipe away with the back of your hand. The clock on the wall tells you that you’re late for work, but you’re far too weary to move. Instead, you nestle deeper into the blankets, blankly staring at the nightstand as the city continues to live without you.

She didn’t leave you a note. Why would she? She’s not your lover; she doesn’t have to tell you anything. There’s a sense of urgency in the back of you should leave too. That there’s a busy day ahead of you, there are people and families you need to get in touch with, and there’s some loose ends that you need to tie up. It will get worse the longer you stall, and yet, you can’t bring yourself to care about it.

You don’t feel anything. You want to feel happy, angry, sad, anything, but you just can’t. Not when you’re on your own and the only company you have is the quiet. You don’t feel anything unless you’re in pain. You don’t feel anything unless you drink until you black out. But with Quanxi, you feel alive. With her, you don’t feel like a machine. You don’t feel like a killer, stained in the blood of those you failed to save. You’re someone she likes, at least enough to keep around for as long as she has. You’re someone she looks for when she needs you.

It’s not love. You know it isn’t. You don’t think she’ll ever love you the same way you love her. You’re not that oblivious to ignore what this truly is—pure unadulterated lust and desire, something to relieve stress whenever it arises. Days ago you cried until you had nothing left because you wanted more. Now, you just ignore it all. If it makes you feel good in the moment, makes you feel like you’re worth something, who are you to deny it?

You know you make bad decisions, ones that lead you to consequences you deal with alone like this one. You don’t care anymore. You never think twice. It’s just how you’ve always been.

You never think twice, but as the bed gets colder, you wonder if it’s about time you did.

#peep how it’s ironic that mc who claims they “never think twice” actually hesitates and thinks a LOT #is that the consequences catching up to them or the instinct telling them to slow down? who knows #i didn’t think too much about the plot i just wanted a lesbian situationship that eats someone from the inside #while the other party doesn’t care or doesn’t notice at all lololol #quanxi x reader #chainsaw man x reader #angelshubnetwork #bitchcraftinc #ghostqueues #enchantedforest-network #cw alcohol #not sfw #wlw x reader #all

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tteokdoroki · 4 months

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yuuji looks so good when he cream pies omg his eyes roll back in his head and he drools <333

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, characters aged up to 20s, creampies, breeding, overstimulation, implied multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, afab!reader - anon pls…. grabs my head like choso </3

because when yuuji cums he’s literally throwing all of his weight into his thrusts — bucking into you so wildly with your legs folded up by your ears. it’s easy to forget how strong he is when he looks so sweet and those brown puppy dog eyes stare down at you with so much lust.

…but when yuuji gets close he has this sudden burst of energy, chasing his high like a madman or someone looking for that same dopamine rush that their addiction gives them. he wants his cum to be so deep inside of you, doesn’t want to pull out of your tight, hot heat that ripples around his aching cock. just begging for him to fill you up.

that’s what you want, right? it’s what your body’s telling him.

“oh. oh my god. fuck—“ he stutters, his warm breath ghosting along your wet Cupid’s bow, honey brown eyes screwing shut every time you clench down on itadori’s cock through the after shocks of your high. “‘m gonna cum baby, all over… all over this pretty pussy. gonna fill you up, gonna cum inside you — gotta cum inside you.”

and he’s so desperate, gyrating his hips in circles while keeping his leaky cock nice ‘n snug inside you — yuuji doesn’t want to waste a drop, it’d be a shame if he couldn’t watch that thick white ooze out of your tiny hole.

it takes the pressure of your nails raking down his freckled back and the tug of his pink hair for yuuji to finally burst — the entire heaviness of his body collapses against your frame, his thrusts never stop as he pumps a thick, heavy load into you until your tummy swells from how much there is.

yuuji’s pretty brown eyes disappear into his skull, his jaw goes slack while he trembles weakly above you — drooling into the crevice of your neck while he twitches and shakes. “‘m sorry,” he moans hoarsely, pressing sloppy kisses to the corner of your mouth, your neck and your lips. “can’t help it, you make me cum so much ‘nd i want it all of it inside of you.” he pants against you like a promise, flinching at the smaller spurts of his arousal that paint your swollen folds and clit opaque white, causing more of it to seep out of you.

and it’s not long before itadori has the energy to go again, determined to push all of his cum up against your sensitive walls to make it stick. the night isn’t over until you’ve had your fill and yuuji itadori’s heavy balls are completely empty.

#itadori smut #yuuji itadori smut #yuuji itadori x reader #itadori x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #✧ ₊˚✉️੭ — new notification #✧ ₊˚💬੭ — unknown messenger #angelshubnetwork #ghostqueues

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benkeibear · 4 months

Text

⋆꙳✧༄ Sensual Love

꒰ ͜͡➸ In which Nagi forgot the time while gaming and finds his girlfriend sleeping in his bed - so he makes it up to her by giving her the attention she deserves.

❖ Character: Nagi

❖ Reader: female | AFAB

❖ Wordcount: 1382

❖ WARNINGS: needy/desperate sex, oral (reader receiving), fingering, Nagi humping the mattress and your leg, creampie, cockwarming, slight somno

❖ A/n: This was written entirely for my sweetest snow @suyacho to give some selfship comfort 🫶

Nagi's eyes went wide open when he looked at the time, realizing that he got entirely lost in his game and, out of "just one more round," grew quite a few more, given that it's two hours later. Cursing himself under his breath, he shut his console off and ran towards the bedroom, his socked feet almost sliding past the room, but his hands held onto the doorframe to bring him to a full halt. Would you be mad at him? Hurt, perhaps? He wondered and could feel his heart start to pound against his ribcage the longer he hesitated to open the door until his hands did so on their own accord. You were sleeping, of course you were; it was late after all, and his heart broke when he saw how you were clutching onto the sweater he wore that day, small hands holding the fabric tight while your nose was buried in it to surround yourself with his comforting scent.

“Babe?” He whispered and shook you ever so slightly in hopes of getting a reaction out of you, and I received nothing but a sleepy mumble. A frown spread on his lips because he knew that he fucked up, although he never intended to, he just lost track of time and got consumed by his game when he should have been consumed by your love and wrapped tightly in each other's arms. Ever so gently, he lifted the sheets that covered your curled up body so he could slither beneath them after laying you out straight. Nagi’s body slid onto yours, your legs on either side of his as he laid down on top of you like a weighted blanket to keep you grounded and comfortable in your slumber, but despite his closed eyes and his nose buried in the crook of your neck, he just couldn't fall asleep, tired lips kissing your neck while his hands slid under your shirt to feel your skin against them.

He knew not to go too far, hoping you would wake up from his hands wandering over your sides or the way he kissed down your body and along your thighs, but never quite where he wanted to until he heard your sleepy voice. “Baby? What are you doing?” You wondered aloud, although your voice barely came out as a whisper when your tired eyes looked down to find the white fluff of his hair laying on one of your spread thighs. "Need you… Need you so bad. 'm sorry I got lost in the game,” he apologized, and his eyes equaled the ones of a hurt puppy. “I promise, I'll make it up... Please let me." Nagi almost begged, pawing at the flesh of your thighs, until he earned a soft nod from you.

With eager hands, he undressed your bottom half, not even bothering to take your top off before his hungry lips kissed your inner thighs once again, his teeth biting down to gain a squeal from you. His slender hands were faster and had already spread your folds for his hungry gaze, and you could swear that you just heard him whine ever so softly, just by exposing you to himself. When his kisses wandered upwards, it was your turn to whine at how needy his tongue licked through your folds just to taste you before he flicked it over your clit. Nagi’s eyes were closed in pure bliss as he made out with your cunt, pouring every ounce of devotion he had for you into it, and you could hear his hips rutting into the mattress beneath him. His hands were holding your hips down, not with too much strength but enough to keep you from squirming away from the intensity of the pleasure his tongue provided. Only when you held onto his hair did he manage to look up at you through his lashes to see an image of a goddess moaning his name like a mantra. His lips wrapped around your bundle of nerves to suckle on it, his tongue never stopping to flick over it until your hips broke free in the heat of your orgasm that was washing over you.

The way you bucked into his face and pushed his mouth further onto your cunt made him groan in response, feeling like he would lose his sanity entirely, but he didn't stop his assault on your sensitive clit until you rode out your high, almost pushing him away from overstimulation. His lips and chin were glistening in the dim light that illuminated the bedroom from the hallway when he smiled up at you, looking content with his devotion to his one and only. Your body was made to be worshiped by him and his acts of love.

Before he climbed up to kiss you, he wiped his lips with the back of his hand, but you still tasted yourself on them, moaning softly at the way his fingers already played with your entrance. "Mh, please let me have more of you,” he whispered between kisses, wanting permission to touch you more, needing to see you come undone again and again, not caring about his own desires if he could get to feel and hear you. But you couldn't ignore the way his cock was rubbing against your leg when his fingers started curling against your sweet spot. His hardened shaft felt so delicious against your thigh, feeling some of the pre-cum dribble out and staining your soft skin. You could only imagine how good he would feel inside of you right now as the neediest, most desperate moans fell from his lips and against your neck. Nagi almost bit into your shoulder when your cunt started to flutter around his skillful digits, his cock twitching in rhythm with your cunt.

“Please fuck me, Sei, I need you inside,” you begged breathless and on the brink of another orgasm—who was he to deny this request? His fingers remained inside your wet cunt while he moved to lay behind you in a spooning position, only removing them to gently lift your leg upward to make it easier for him to slide in. "Nghh, you're so fucking wet, my love,” he moaned against your skin, his face buried in your hair when he slowly pushed into your tight heat. Your hands came to clutch onto his arm that was now wrapped around your stomach to hold you close and steady, his hips rutting into you in a slow and sensual way.

Despite the rather slow pace he set, his thrusts hit every right spot inside of you and built your orgasm back up again, allowing you to feel every drag of his cock so intense that it almost drove you insane. Your nails left behind small crescent-shaped dents in his muscular arm, while your moans became more breathless the more desperate and erratic his thrusts became. His moans mixed with small grunts and begs to please let go for him. Nagi was terribly close, already tasting his piece of heaven but not letting go until you're reaching your high around his cock, but it only took a few more desperate pleas until you fell head first into a mind-numbing orgasm that shattered your world and left your legs shaking even after you've calmed down. Nagi finally allowed himself to come undone, powerless to the way your cunt milked him for all he had to give, but his thrusts didn't stop —he couldn't— not when you felt so damn perfect wrapped around him. Fuck. Why didn't he stop playing his dumb game sooner for this? He wondered as he held you close to his body, a thin layer of sweat covering the both of you, but neither of you could care less as you slowly drifted back into your slumber, your walls coated white and his cock still buried deep inside of you. Nagi smiled against your shoulder when your breath evened out, not minding to stay inside of you for the night. Maybe you can continue where you two left off in the morning, his hips rutting ever so gently against you until sleep overcame the white-haired man as well, his arm tightening around you. You were his most precious, and he would never let go.

Networks: @enchantedforest-network @themovingcastlez @ghostqueue

#blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #nagi x reader #nagi smut #bllk x reader #bllk smut #seishiro nagi #bllk nagi #nagi x you #ghostqueues #writing for blue lock again was not in my bingo for 2024 but here we are

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paintedclaws · 1 year

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an independent and private ENID SINCLAIR from netflix’s wednesday. personals please do not interact, thank you!

this blog is run and written by czarina (she/her). this blog is a sideblog to cheersnap.

REGULARLY SPORADIC / SELECTIVE ACTIVITY. may occasionally run on a ghost queue. other blogs and general rules under the cut.

other blogs: @cheersnap, @visionsaw

RULES.

ACTIVITY : roleplaying is a hobby and i have a life outside of it, so even if i have the tumblr app in my phone, please do not expect me to be here 24/7. my activity is almost always spotty so i very much operate on an “i’ll be and write here when i can” mindset when it comes to roleplaying. enid may not always be the only blog i run, so i try to split what free time i have between here and my other muses.

MUTUALS ONLY : pretty self - explanatory. if we are not following each other, then we will not be writing with each other either. sometimes it takes me a while to check on new followers, so give me at least 3 days to follow you back.

if we were mutuals once upon a time and aren’t any more, please try not to take it to heart. a lot of things have changed over here along with myself and i’m just trying to enjoy writing here better.

FOLLOWING / UNFOLLOWING : any blogs with written incest, rape, non-con, underage nsfw, whitewashing, racebent poc / racial poc interchanging ( i.e. using a korean faceclaim for a japanese character ), or genderbends — i will probably block you on sight. i find the use of bait tags very objectifying, so if i see my faceclaims in them and / or see any derivative of a bait tag used on a blog, i will not be following.

DUPLICATES : on the topic of duplicates — i love that we have a shared interest in enid ! but for my own comfort, i’m kindly asking duplicates not to follow me unless we’re good friends. i know you probably mean well and i could be following you on some other blog, but please respect this rule. if you happen to write enid too, please do not steal from me. multi-muses that have her, on the other hand, could possibly become mutuals.

PORTRAYAL : enid is, for the most part, canon-compliant. my portrayal is both show-based and headcanon-based for the time being.

WRITING : i am slow at replying im- and thread - wise for various reasons, but just because i take long doesn’t mean i don’t want to write with you ! life just gets in the way and i think we can all understand that. sometimes i do tend to drop threads and delete memes from my inbox if i feel like they’ve been there for too long, but i’m always up for starting new things.

SHIPPING : i do ships mainly based on chemistry and plotting, so don’t be afraid to reach out if you wanna discuss a ship with me! and i don’t just mean romantic shipping; i want all kinds of shipping ranging from love to hate and everything in between. enid is pansexual.

MAINS / EXCLUSIVES : i may have my mains but i don’t do exclusives. i could do verse exclusives and maybe even ship exclusives if we talked about it, but i don’t generally do the “i only follow and write with x person’s version of this muse,” so please don’t ask me.

NSFW : i am of age but this character is primarily not, so there will be no smut around here whatsoever. other possibly triggering topics will be tagged accordingly.

MISCELLANEOUS : basically other important points that i can’t file under a specific category lol

do not follow this blog if you use any of the following faceclaims: amber heard, chris pratt, scarlett johanssen, holland roden, dove cameron, thomas doherty, jeremy renner, emma stone, lea michele, laura leigh turner, laura osnes, katharine mcphee, any faceclaims known to hold questionable views. if they’re on a multimuse, i may make an exception. i do not like them for various reasons that i’m sure you’re capable of finding out about on your own. please tag them for me if ever they appear on your blog.

i don’t usually interact with ‘like to stay mutuals’ posts - unless i break the mutual myself, i am very much interested in remaining mutuals with you.

if i block / softblock you, it is what it is. just accept it and move on.

i am not affiliated with emma myers, netflix, the addams family or wednesday franchise in any way.

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redskyvenus · 4 months

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𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 ⟡ MAKI ZEN’IN

content warnings: non-curse AU, alcohol, fluff/angst, piercer!maki x fem reader, mentions of a breakup, mutual pining, no use of y/n, SFW, wlw centric. other tags will be listed in pt. 2 | wc: 2.1k

notes: starting off the new year with part 1 of my mini series Habits Of My Heart, enjoy 🖤 support your content creators by reblogging/commenting!

masterlist

She had known from the very first night that you met you were not like other women. The way you carried yourself; your voice, your mesmerizing face—and your gorgeous body—sculpted by the gods themselves.

It was a usual Friday night at one of her cherished Tokyo bars, nestled cozily in a quiet corner of the city, Maki had planned to meet her friends for drinks. However, they were running fashionably late, as was their custom. A sigh escaped her as she read the text from Nobara that had popped up on her screen.

Nobara Kugisaki┊11:07 PM

“So sorry for making you wait, we got caught up in a situation with you know who. We'll try to be there asap, promise! Don’t get shitfaced without us X”

Rolling her eyes at the message, she shot back a curt reply before huffing and pocketing her phone.

Maki Zen’in┊11:08 PM

“Ugh. Whatever. Just hurry up already, the next two rounds are on you and Toge by the way.”

Propping her head on her hand, she sported an unimpressed look on her face.

What a drag…

Having just taken a seat at the bar, she nursed a glass of whiskey while observing the lively crowd. The space was filled with drunk laughter, chatter, and loud music blasting from every direction. Feeling bored, Maki tried to entertain herself by intently watching the noisy group of drunk people arguing in front of the bar.

One of the girls was dramatically screaming at the top of her lungs at her friend for getting back together with their toxic ex. Not wanting to eavesdrop on the conversation too much and possibly cause a scene if she got caught, she decided to scan around the room for any other possible distractions. Little did she know that her eventual source of distraction would soon after that enter the bar.

After two months of self-imposed isolation in your apartment following a painful breakup, your friends had taken matters into their own hands. You had slowly become a shell of a person, days consumed by work and miserable nights filled with restless sleep. When they decided that they had seen enough of your suffering, they orchestrated a rescue mission to pull you out of your melancholic cocoon, dragging you to the nearest bar. You didn’t even attempt to fight back, secretly relieved in having an excuse to drink away your sorrows and drown your pain in a sea of distractions.

After waiting in the cold for what seemed like forever you finally entered the bar, making all heads turn, including hers. Your presence demanded attention, and the way you moved through the crowd with a certain grace was captivating. As you walked, your sage green dress clung to your figure in all the right places, and every step you took made it all the more hypnotizing.

Throughout the night, Maki couldn't help but steal quick glances at you from across the room. She found herself entranced by your beauty and the soft aura that exuded from you—a stark contrast to her rugged demeanor. A certain charm that set you apart from everyone else in that room. She was even growing a little jealous of your friends who had your undivided attention, wishing it was her instead.

Maki took another sip of her whiskey, trying to shake off the envy that lingered within.

The moment that changed everything happened when you decided to make your way to the restroom. A few drinks had added a sway to your step, but it only made you all the more alluring. You moved through the sea of bodies, brushing past tables and other intoxicated people until you reached the narrow corridor leading to the bathrooms.

Unbeknownst to you, Maki had chosen that exact moment to get up from her barstool and make her way to the bathroom as well. The narrow corridor was quite dark and you drunkenly stumbled into her. The two of you collided, and fell down to the cold, marbled floor.

“Shit. I- I'm so sorry, I really shouldn't have taken that last shot.” You apologized profusely as you got up, your voice a sweet, melodic sound that sent a thrill through her body. The slight alcohol buzz delayed her response, her gaze was still set on your beautiful face. “Are you alright?" you asked, concern now lacing your tone.

Maki quickly snapped out of her daze, realizing she was still on the floor. She nodded and accepted your outstretched hand, letting you help her to her feet. "I’m fine, thanks." She dusted off her clothes before looking up, meeting your eyes again.

Feeling embarrassed because of your clumsiness, you nervously giggled as you introduced yourself to her, and it was as if the bar's dim lights suddenly grew brighter—leaving her momentarily breathless. She took a step back from you, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of her plump lips.

"Maki," she replied, her voice steady. She desperately tried to keep her composure, not wanting to let you know how much you'd already affected her tonight.

"Nice to meet you, Maki. Let me make it up to you by buying your next drink,” you insisted with a gentle smile.

“Don’t worry about it, my friends are running late and they owe me two rounds for not showing up on time anyways. Thank you, though.” She chuckled, politely declining the make-good offer.

Your gaze was fixated on hers, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of intrigue about the woman standing before you. She exuded an air of confidence and self-assuredness that was unlike anyone you had ever met before. Maki’s fierce aura seemed to intimidate you, but it only piqued your interest further because of it.

While the two of you stood in that dark hall, you felt the tension in the air, a strong, magnetic pull that was getting increasingly difficult to ignore. Teasingly, you remarked, "It seems we had a bit of a clash there; maybe it's fate." The playful glint in your eye did not go unnoticed.

Maki chuckled, her laughter a melodic echo. "Maybe…" she replied, her tone measured. "But I don't believe in fate. I like to think we make our own choices." You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her response. It was clear that she wasn’t easily swayed, but you were determined to try and leave a lasting impression.

“I like women who are in control," you said, a sly smile hinting at your determination.

She smirked in response, a challenge in her gaze. "I’m not like most women you meet."

The rest of the conversation flowed effortlessly, as if you had known each other for years. The crowded bar had started to slowly fade into the background, as if the world had stopped spinning completely. Leaving only the two of you in that dimly lit hallway. Maki revealed bits and pieces of her life, her interests and passions, and you gradually started to open up in return.

As the night progressed with shared beers and conversations, Maki’s friends finally started to arrive, generously offering a few rounds of drinks. However, you’d quickly turned into a giggly, drunken mess. Struggling to maintain your balance, you inadvertently stumbled into Maki's lap not once but twice within the span of seven minutes.

When the bar closed down, Maki called you an Uber, and you exchanged phone numbers with her to make sure you both got home safely. It was abundantly clear that she was still acting reluctant towards you, but it only fueled your desire to get closer to her.

In the ensuing weeks, the two of you exchanged a good deal of texts and even went on a few casual dates to a coffee shop, a beautiful park and the movies. Nothing too fancy, not that it mattered; you were just happy to be in her presence, and vice versa.

Maki continued to keep you at arm's length, but she felt her walls slowly starting to crumble down. Your conversations were always filled with witty banter, shared interests, and an ever-deepening connection. Her heart was slowly but surely opening up to you, even if she was reluctant to admit it. She had never met a woman like you; someone who challenged her in every way and made her feel safe. And while she desperately tried to play it off, the attraction between you was undeniable.

Though a few days after your last date, you had noticed a sudden shift in Maki’s responses; her replies started to become shorter and more spaced out. The texts you did receive from her felt like navigating a maze of short, cryptic replies; an abrupt transition from warmth to an icy distance.

Concerned and perplexed, you attempted to reach out again, hoping to bridge the growing gap. Yet, every effort seemed to dissolve into the ether, met with silence or curt texts. The uncertainty gnawed at your mind, planting seeds of self-doubt and confusion. You initially just brushed it off as paranoia, thinking it was all just in your head, but your gut signaled something was up.

When you woke up one morning, twelve hours had passed since your last message was left on read, the increasing anxiety made your stomach churn. Unable to brush off your hurt feelings for the umpteenth time, your eyes filled with tears, slowly trickling down your face and staining your gray t-shirt. Brushing away the tears that adorned your cheeks, you looked at your phone again, desperately checking for any missed messages. Nothing. Tossing and turning in your spacious bed with weary, swollen eyes you slowly drifted back to sleep.

7:45 AM.

The loud alarm reverberated through your apartment. You had to drag yourself out of bed and get ready for work, but all you could think about was her soft lips, those bewitching honey-colored eyes and her picture perfect smile. Rushing through traffic, you’d finally arrived at the crowded office. You quickly sat down at the spacious front desk, downing a shot of espresso. For once, you wished your boss would sense your sulky mood and leave you alone, hoping it would make time pass by quicker. You just wanted to go home, order take-out and cry your eyes out while watching a mindless romcom movie.

Maki stared at the opened message on her phone for what seemed like forever, fingers hovering over the phone keyboard, grappling with the right words trying to explain her sudden distance. Despite her attempt to confront her feelings, she tried burying them in the depths of her soul again.

She knew she was hurting you by pushing you away; convinced that you deserved someone unburdened by their past. You deserved to be with someone who wasn’t afraid to be vulnerable, who wouldn’t run for the hills every time they met someone who’s gentle, compassionate and willing to kiss away their scars.

Maki never expected things to go this far this quickly but here she was, finding herself growing attached to someone again, breaking her own promise. You would just end up leaving sooner or later, just like every other person in her life before you did. That’s why she wanted to be ahead of the curve, protecting herself. But the guilt gnawed at her, slowly eating her up with each passing second. She persisted by pushing you, and the heavy emotions, to the back of her mind.

More time started to pass and your days had finally blended back into a mundane routine, though the remnants of the heartache were still lingering. That was until the universe had orchestrated an unexpected turn of events.

You were strolling down the street in Shibuya, shopping for early Christmas presents, when your gaze suddenly fell on a tattoo shop. An idea sparked your brain, a few months ago you had a conversation with one of your friends about wanting to get your septum pierced, you decided now was the perfect time. A pinch of physical pain seemed like an unconventional yet fitting way to divert your mind from the emotional turmoil of the past few weeks.

Hesitant yet determined, you pushed open the door, the chime signaling your entry.

The interior was adorned with the subtle hum of needles and the faint scent of antiseptic. As you approached the front desk, a familiar figure emerged from behind the counter—Maki, the person responsible for your initial fondness and subsequent heartache.

A moment of silence hung in the air as your eyes met. The surprise reflected in her gaze mirrored your own astonishment. She quickly looked away without saying a word, nervously grabbing her stuff before walking to the back of the store.

Ouch.

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yuta-nation · 4 months

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forever and ever...(yuta okkotsu)

summary: he has been waiting for this moment for 5 years. the moment you're his forever.

content: just fluff! mdni!!

wc: .5k

a/n: got this suggestion from my irl bestie. he's a genius.

Yuta can vividly remember the last time he felt this nervous. He was sixteen, standing outside a classroom door, listening to Gojo try to hype up the other students to meet him. Gojo asked the students to give him a hand before Yuta entered. He heard one student (Maki, he later learned) groan in complaint, one student (Toge) respond “Salmon,” and one hum of acknowledgment (from Panda). His shoulders sagged as he put a hand on the door to slide it open, but he paused for a moment when he heard faint, almost shy claps. The sound of one student being even remotely excited to meet him soothed his heart as he finally slid open the door. He had entered, eyes meeting yours, and all sense of nervousness or unease left his body. It didn’t matter that the rest of the students lunged to attack him, it didn’t matter that he was starting at a new school, or joining a society he knew nothing about, because you were there.

And now five years later, the situation was reversed. He stood at the altar with Toge and Panda beside him and Maki standing tall on the bridesmaids’ side. Gojo stood in the middle, blindfold abandoned so as to not mar the photos of him officiating. The only one missing was you, and Yuta watched the door intently, waiting for you to make your entrance. After what felt like ages, the doors opened to reveal you as you began your march down the aisle.

Yuta felt all the breath leave his body the moment he laid eyes on you. He had never seen anyone more beautiful, never seen anything so stunning. He felt the tears prick his eyes, felt their warmth as they ran down his face, but he made no move to wipe them. He didn’t want to take his eyes off you for even a second. You were enchanting as you made your way to him, and for a moment he was filled with dread at the thought of this all being a dream. That he would wake up from this moment and it wouldn’t have been real, that you would be with someone else, someone better, and he would be without you. He had almost deluded himself into believing that he was dreaming when you finally reached him and took his hand.

Your touch was all the proof he needed to know that this was real, that you were here, ready to marry him. He couldn’t hold in his sobs at your touch, causing you to shed your own tears. You reached to wipe his eyes and cradle his face in your hands. You held him for a moment before Gojo cleared his throat and began speaking.

When it came time to exchange vows, the tears flowed again. You couldn’t keep your shoulders from shaking when Yuta spoke.

“I vow to love you forever, protect you always, and cherish you endlessly. I’ve known my heart belonged to you since I was sixteen. With this ring, now the world will know that I am yours until the day I die. I love you.”

#🩵: yuta #🩵: writing #eveningatthemoviesnetwork #angelshubnetwork #ghostqueues #jjk x reader #yuta okkotsu x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #okkotsu yuta x reader #yuuta okkotsu x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff

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bachibabe · 4 months

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— Heaven

synopsis: choso never expected spring break to be so difficult, honestly. just a few weeks to relax with his brother and his brothers girlfriend… it sounds like the dream doesn’t it? seeing his brother happy, so in love with you. but heaven for one is hell for another-- and it seems to be your very life goal to make him live with both.

✧*̣̩┊: choso x fem! reader (some itadori x fem! reader)

✧*̣̩┊: wc: 7.0k

✧*̣̩┊: content: dubious consent at times, cnc + full consent at others, switch! reader,switch!choso, dom!reader, sub!choso, nipple play, voyeurism (choso listens to itadori and reader have sex), m!masturbation, pervert choso, massages, blowjob, p in v, overstimulation, multiple creampies, choso is kinda gross, cheating!reader (as far as choso knows), choso is refered to as puppy/cocktoy, degredation (choso receiving), choso degrading himself too, please lmk if I missed any!

✧*̣̩┊: notes: it’s lily! back again with another perverted jjk man! this turned out way longer than i originally thought it was going to be. originally it was just going to end with the masturbation scene buuutttt i got a little carried away :DD i love how this fic came out and i hope you guys do too <33

18+ → minors / blank blogs dni

God, he wants to die. He deserves to. Choso has no right to live after the way he’s been looking at his brother’spretty little girlfriend. He deserves to be jailed for life, eyes gouged out for even considering sending a glance to your ass; bent over grabbing something from a cabinet in the kitchen. Leggings that are too tight, practically transparent. He swears he can see the tinge of your pink panties through them.

He should die. He places his face in his hands, arms propped up as his legs. One of them bouncing in, fuck, he doesn’t know what. Really doesn't know what. He doesn’t think he wants to, honestly. God how did it end up like this? How did he end up here– Itadori perched up on the counter, while you start to work on breakfast. How is he going to make it out alive? How is he going to survive spring break?

It wasn’t supposed to end up like this. When Itadori, his dear, beloved brother called, asking if it was fine to bring his girlfriend home for break, Choso thought nothing of it. Even if he hadn’t met you, Itadori told him plenty. Every conversation he had with his sibling always found itself filled with fond stories of you. The nice date you went on, the delicious food you cooked for him. How horribly you destroyed the poor guy in mario kart. He thought he already knew you— it felt like he did at least.

He could tell the moment you walked into their family home that he didn’t. He had no clue the woman you were. A problem he would never be able to rectify. How terrifying that was for poor Choso. Can you imagine? Your little sweater crop top, unzipped low to put your perfect, pretty breasts on display. Your jeans, fitting just so right around your hips, practically putting your ass centre stage for the world to witness.

He hits his forehead with his hands a few times, trying to get rid of the image of your lips. They were in a pout, gloss on them as your jut out your bottom lip. You kissed his cheeks. Held both of your tiny hands around one of his large ones.

“Thank you for letting me stay Choso, you’re the best big brother to Itadori ever!” Your voice rang so pretty, shiny, new in his ear drums. A sound he had never heard before invading his senses for the first time. He simply nodded his head, hugging his brother after you took a step back. Introductions were fast, Itadori dragging you off to give you a tour of their family home. It was probably to his benefit, to get you away like that. He didn’t know how long he could hold back the colour rising to his cheeks.

You were beautiful, gorgeous, even. Any adjective in the world to describe your beauty, he would use it. But that would never be enough to make a man like him crack. One with morals, one with some shred of pride. While the interaction left him slightly flustered, he quickly brushed it off of his shoulder. It shouldn’t matter anyway.

Only it does when you’ve positioned yourself between his legs, tongue between your lip as you put your all into the game of mario kart against the two men.

“I can’t see the tv from up here!” Your peach voice whined after your second loss in a row. “I’m more comfortable on the floor anyway.” You tell them, a slight pout on your lips.

“You’re such a sore loser!” Itadori laughs, teasing as you slide yourself onto the floor. Right in front of Choso’s place on the couch. He looks down, eyes increasing in size only a fraction as your frame is incased by either side of his legs. His eyebrows raise, legs shifting farther apart as to not touch you. He wants to be respectful, afterall.

“Uhg! As if!” You shoot back, a small glare landing on Itadori. Though Choso can tell none of it is serious. Suddenly, before he can think about the action any further, you turn to him. Delicate hand placed on his knee, nails digging into the flesh ever so slightly. Anyone else wouldn’t notice it. But of course Choso does. Of course he had to. Because he's a disgusting pervert who blushes from the touch of a woman. Well, not any woman. Just you.

“You don’t mind, right Choso?” Your voice is practically a purr, eyes filled with nothing but the glow of innocence, “Here’s the only spot that’s comfortable.” God, he swears he sees your tongue flick over your bottom lip, wetting the surface. But he forces himself to shred that to pieces. A trick of the eye.

He nods his head, “Guests comfort.” He swears, your smile might blind a man. You threw your arm up, a small victory, your body turning back around.

“‘Sides, Yuuji’s gonna start kicking me when I win anyway. He’s such a baby!” You stick out your tongue in mock disgust, Choso’s face moving into a light smile.

“Am not!” Itadori argues back, throwing a pilling in your direction. Choso’s smile only grows, catching the pillow right before it lands on your face. Your voice squeals in delight, making a quick, mocking joke back in the direction of Yuuji.

“He is. A baby in every way. You know when we were younger he used to sing this song–” This time, instead of a pillow, Yuuji throws his body, pinning Choso to the couch. A hand clamped over Choso’s mouth. You break out into something that sounds like music– oh. It’s just your laugh. Choso can’t help himself laughing either.

Itadori starts laughing as you begin to beg, to do the same song that he had done when he was younger. Eventually he gives in, turning the night into somewhat of a good memory. Even if you remained planted, not daring to move from him even after a movie was put on. Falling asleep, head propped against his leg.

Yuuji carried you to bed that night, Choso retiring not long after.

If Choso was any slower, he would have completely missed the way you looked at his arm. The way your eyes trained to the muscle of it. The way your eyes would sharpen ever so slightly, your teeth almost biting your lip whenever you even gleaned at his calves or thighs.

If it was just that, he could handle it. Even if he is a man, he’s not primal. He has self control. Even if he found you attractive, that means nothing. Probably. You’re his brothers’. It would be pathetic for him to fall over something so simple.

Only it wasn’t so simple. It never could be.

He quickly learned how dangerous you could be when it was just him home. How little you cared for the intricacies of being coy when no one was watching.

“God your tits are so big~” Your voice feels like a moan in his ear. Your hands wrapped around him from behind, squeezing his pecks. Nails digging into him, so much so that it almost hurt. “It’s no fair…”

His face is flush, his posture stiff. Stunned into an unmoving demeanour from just how… direct you’re being. That is the best word he can think of for it. At least it is right now when his head is all scrambled at the feeling of your perfect chest pressing into the firm muscles of his back. Your breath right in his ear with every short exhale.

When he came home from work, tired and useless, the proposition was innocent enough: ‘Ah Choso~ You look so tense from work! That’s no good, you know? Oh! Lemme just give you a little massage yeah? Help you relax right up!’ That look on your face, so docile and cute, didn’t help any retorts he had under his belt. Not to mention, any persistence he thought Yuuji had was far surpassed by you. Begging to give poor, old Choso a massage. Fix his creaky joins and stiff bones.

Maybe it was the wear he had received from an all-too-hard day at the office, or maybe it had been a lapse in judgement from the cloud that seemed to cover him. However the decision came to be, he thought it might be good. A nice chance to finally relax a little.

He had been needing a massage lately, anyway, the certificate Yuuji had bought him rotting away in his closet from his last birthday. Yet, he just didn’t have it in him to actually book the appointment, no matter how desperately he wanted to feel the muscles in his body unwind. Honestly a little nervous to have a stranger's hands on him.

But you aren’t a stranger. You’ve become friends.

So, when you urge his shirt off, saying that you don’t want it to get all sticky with lotion, he doesn’t fight back. Letting you slight the slightly scratchy material of his dress shirt over his head. He lets your pretty hands work out the hair ties in his locks, allowing the neglected black hair fall over his shoulders. He needs a haircut, he knows it in the way his hair falls a little lower than it ever had before. Plans, yeah. He has lots of things he needs to do. Dinner, cleaning, making sure the report comes in on time. God he doesn't need another lecture from–

“Fuck-” His is sudden, low as you press into one of the knots permeating his back. He hadn’t even expected it to come out. He doesn’t think you did either, based on the little squeal that leaves your throat.

“Did that feel good?” You ask simply, continuing to rub circles deep into his shoulder blades. Your tone light, happy. Probably from helping someone relax, yeah, that's probably it. “I’ve taken a few classes, I was thinking about becoming a masseuse awhile ago.” He knows your glossy lips are smiling.

A breathy exhale leaves his lips, your thumbs digging into another sensitive tangle. “Oh really?” He’s not focusing much anymore. There must be some kind of drug laced in your touch.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” You giggle, hands cresting over the tops of his shoulder, gently rubbing his neck. “Mhmm, I’m real good I think.”

If he responds, he has no clue what he says. Good is an understatement. Your hands must be god's gift to man. That can be the only explanation. No other human could be capable of this, he doesn’t think. Allowing one’s mind to turn into mush with just simple touches of fingers along their back. It shouldn’t be allowed, legal.

He doesn’t know how much time passes as he sits there, letting you work through his back until it's tender. Needing love and affection when it was just broken and reformed by your hands alone. Your nails gently scratch the skin. He’s forgotten who you are, what you are. You are euphoria across his skin. A feeling swelling in his abdomen as he sinks into total relaxation.

Well, that is at least until suddenly your hands are on his pecks, your voice cooing in his ear as you fondle him like a porno. The innocent delight in granting someone relief has vanished from you, someone else taking your place. His eyes wide open, heart rate as high as the ceiling in a matter of seconds.

“See and if you just sit like this–” Your left hand moves to his lower back, forcing it to curve just so, “They look even bigger. Have you ever thought about getting them pierced? Then we could be matching~” His brain can’t wrap around your words, nevertheless what they imply. His head has gone a bit fuzzy, finding trouble keeping up in the shift from cloud nine to being in one of the circles of hell.

Your voice sounds so sweet, yet your body behaves as a different animal.

Your fingertips flick over the nipple, “It doesn’t hurt too bad I swear… and you’d look real pretty with them too.” Your other hand leaves his back, slowly sliding around his hip. Your fingers dance along the contours of his body, finally resting just along his v-line. Thumb gently running itself across the ridge. Not daring to go any lower. Not yet, anyway.

If he had anything to say, the words are lost in his throat. How could a delicate touch be so sinful? He has no idea. He can’t find himself moving his head, moving away at all really. Stuck in a state of indecision. Hoping the little balls he feels pressing into his back may or may not be the piercings you speak of so fondly covered by one of your too thin tank tops. He isn’t sure which. His brain is blurry, but his body is responding. His pants are beginning to feel stiff.

“I can show you if you want~” You purr, your voice somehow closer, etching even deeper into his ear. Lodging itself in his brain in a way that he can't ignore. His body grows tense pulling away ever so slightly when your hands suddenly retract entirely. Finding purchase back on his back as if they were never there to begin with.

“Kidding!!” You giggle, patting his back as your too-sweet nature returns like nothing. Once again leaving him a little more confused than he would like to be. “Don’t be silly Choso, I was only playing. Don’t get your panties all up in a twist!”

And that was the end of it, at least until Yuuji got home. Until he could retire to the privacy of a shower to manage a little issue. One that didn’t seem to want to resolve itself. One that meant his panties stayed in a twist.

Dinner was had like nothing happened. And it didn’t. Because it was all a joke right? So he shouldn’t dwell. Not when Yuuji smiles at you like that. Not when you two seem perfect for each other.

His feelings on the issue shouldnt matter. And therefore, they don’t. As long as Itadori is happy, as long as he can keep that smile on his little brother's face, nothing else in the world is of importance to him.

No matter how much he has to endure. However many times he has to apply sunscreen on your bare back, bikini top untied so as to not miss a spot. However many times he feels your ass pressed against him as you slide in front of him in the kitchen. However many times you fall asleep, clinging to his arm on the couch. Breasts pressed against him just so. However many times he has to ignore your subtle, almost streamlined touches. However many times he has to ‘take care of business’ in the privacy of his own room, triggered from nothing more than watching the way you speak. Watching the way your lips move in their pristine little pout. However many times he has to ignore that feeling bubble up in the pits of his gut.

Choso is a man with patience. The ability to hold himself back.. He is able to be a pillar of fortitude where most would crumble under the pressure. Women aren’t an issue when it comes to him. He can be sweet, the type of man to look at the ceiling when walking up stairs, the type to walk closest to the road. The one that stays sober at company parties to make sure he can keep his co-workers drinks safe. But this is too much– you are too much. Last night was too much. The very cause for his mental breakdown today.

He’s a disgusting man. One that has crumbled into a pile of rubble for the woman brought onto his doorstep. One that has dragged him deep down to a place he may never find himself recovering from. He’s a freak, awful, pervert. The worst man alive, if he had to guess.

But your moans are a siren’s call. One he was unable to lure himself away from. One he could no longer battle against.

When he heard the first pitch from his desk, he ignored it. His imagination had to be the culprit. The second, third, however, no. Those had to be real. Right? His doubts were still clear. Yet, as if his body was acting on its own, he found himself befalling in a way that had long been forgotten in his past. A pervy college freshman, planting his knees on his bed, ear pressed deep into the wall.

He knew that the moment he did it. He couldn't pull himself away. Even though a voice was screaming at him to stop. To go back to his desk and place his headphones firmly in his ears. To stop listening to your beautiful sounds, those that were filled with pleasure. To move away from the wall as the bed on the other side rocked against it. To stop imagining the skin slapping against your own was his.

He was too far gone. Too far deluded as his hand found his cock, not bothering to pull down his sweatpants. He still had some class, some grace, he liked to think. He wasn’t completely abhorrent. Even as he ran his thumb over the head, feeling the pre-cum. Sliding it around messily as he tried to find some purchase on sanity.

His hands were too shaky, from nerves or excitement he could not tell. Maybe he didn’t want to. That would be for the best wouldn’t it? His thumb, shakily, almost impatiently teasing him under the guise of starlight. What would you think if you saw him now? Palming his cock while his thumb ran over the almost red head. Trying desperately to conceal any shred of dignity the poor man had left. To try and go back to before his shaky fingers reached below the hem of his sweats.

As the thrusts from the other room quickened, your pants and moans quickly quelled any lucid thoughts he may have had left. His hand reacting to the sounds, palm finding the base easily. The groan he let out was a mistake, but fear no longer exists. Not in this world. Not with the direction of his hand, the speed of it as it moves from base to tip. Quickly. Tightly. Almost painfully. He was too worked up, too frustrated from everything you had given him before. Almost, yet never enough. This was the last straw. The last piece of clarity he had before he completely fell to ruin. Imagining himself in his brother's place. Imagining how you must feel.

He’s a complete sicko. But in the moment, he doesn't care. His arm comes up, resting against the wall. His forehead does the same. His nose scrunches, eyes shut tightly as he tries to picture it. Picture you in his bed, your legs wrapped around his hips. Right above his ass. Ankles trying to cross behind him. Yeah, you would be really pretty there, wouldn’t you?

If your hands were god’s gift, your pussy had to be heaven. He knows it, right? Cause you're his in this little world. His fingers would slide up your lips, spreading you just enough so he could admire you. See how pretty you would look all puffy from his tongue alone. Fuck– his hips jerk in his hand. He won’t last.

How could he when you’re under him? Right, cause you’re under him. Letting him fuck you. Every gorgeous moan of his brother's name is his own. Just like you said in his ear that night.

‘Choso, Choso, Choso~’

Does Yuuji eat you out? Fuck your cunt with his fingers first to make sure you’re ready to take him? No, No! Don’t think about him. Bad Choso, don’t be mean to your brother. Don’t think. This isn’t about him. This is about the new reality, the pretty one where you’re a mess, all sweaty and tangled in his sheets.

Holy fuck. Your voice is suddenly wild, an orchestra he wishes to listen to every night, and his illusions return to him. His hand moving faster, somehow gripping his cock even tighter. This time, however, you’re in control. Pinning him to the bed, his cock buried deep in your pretty, wet hole. You’re not moving, you refuse to. Grinding your hips in slow, deliberate circles to bring him to the precipice, yet not allowing him to fall over the edge. To see the light of day yet never experience it, locked in a battle of wills. Who will fall first, who will beg. Who will be so desperate for release that they can’t do anything else but turn into a messy puddle.

It will be him, you both know it. At least in his head, you do.

Your voice cracks, and so does his. A groan he barely muffles with his hand is all he allows himself to manage as he hears you fall over the edge into climax. He does the same, imagining he’s buried deep inside, filling you with his cum. You didn’t let him wear a condom, you never would.

Thick ropes of white cover his hand as he calms down, rejoining the rest of the world. Panting, teeth marks imprinted into his hand from the force of his jaw.

He’s been spiralling since then. Afraid he’s gone insane, truly. Maybe he should check himself into a psych ward, yes. That would be for the best. Someone like him shouldn’t be allowed on the streets. A pervert like him that gets off on the idea of fucking his little brothers girlfriend shouldn’t be allowed at all. He’s a sick fucking freak.

You have to know it, don't know? That’s why you’ve been looking at him differently today? Like there’s a little spark that just has to mean that you know, right? Or is he really going crazy? Imagining that too? He doesn’t know anymore. He doesn’t know much at all. The only reality he knows is the chair he’s sitting in, planting his seat in it since the morning. He hasn’t moved since then– his chin resting in his hands, his knees against his elbows as he stares at nothing in a random corner. Thinking about everything, nothing.

How could he possibly face you?

The answer to that question has drawn nothing but blanks in his head. Yet it is answered for him that very afternoon. How lucky he is, huh? His brother waving ‘bye’ to hang out with some of his highschool friends. You felt “sick”, claiming an upset tummy so you didn't want to go. Despite his subtle protests that you should tag along with them anyway, he finds himself alone in a house with the object of both his desires and his downfall into depravity.

Luckiest man alive. Yeah. They should say that at his funeral. But he isn’t going to die, not anytime soon at least.

He knows that well, not moving from his eyes from their spot in the corner. He can’t now, even if he wanted to. Not with you right in front of him– two, maybe three feet at most from his legs. Pearly yoga mat neatly laid across the floor; water bottle, phone, and towel placed neatly beside on standby. Leggings, too tight leggings stretched across your perfect skin. Tits held in place with a matching sports bra. Following along to the workout video. Pretty, alone in your head.

In downward dog, ass facing him. Mocking him, scandalising the mere thought of looking away from the corner. If he could see all of that from his peripherals alone, there's no telling what he could see– what he wants to see, from straight on. So there he sits, in his corner. Wishing he could be alone in his own. Wishing you didn’t occupy every crevice of his brain matter. Wishing he was a better man.

His focus has to be made of stone, face scrunched in that annoyed little manner. Lip up in a little tick. If he was staring any harder, a hole would have bored itself into the drywall. If his attention was any less he would’ve noticed you moving closer, sliding backwards on your hands and knees. Pressing your ass against the erection he had been dead set on ignoring.

A groan resonates through his throat at the contact. Sudden, unavoidable. Here, now. The supple flesh of your ass against him, teasing him. Taunting him in some way he can’t ignore. His eyes shifting quickly to his lap, looking at you in all of your glory. His hands gripping the arms of the chairs, nails embedding themselves in the cushioned material. The place they will find refuge, home for the next few hours.

His face finally meets yours, eyes connecting as you look at him from over your shoulder. His brows crease, an ounce of confusion overtaking him. You look annoyed… frustrated. Your eyebrows pinched together, venom in your gaze. Fuck. He must’ve messed up. Did he move closer? Did he accidentally pull you towards him when he wasn’t paying attention? Oh fuck, fucking shit.

Just as the apology starts to leave his lips you huff. Spinning on your knees, moving right between his legs. Looking up at him from his lap.

“I don’t fucking get you, Choso.” You say, the hiss of a snake practically wrapped around your vocal cords. What are you talking about? What could you possibly mean? He’s the pervert. He’s the one that needs to be jailed for his crimes– not you. You’re the angel. The one who’s brought so much joy to his little brother.

Before he can respond, before the words even think about leaving the tip of his tongue your hands are on his thighs. Moving upwards, finding purchase on the hem of his sweatpants. Directing him upwards. Pulling his sweats– the same pair as last night, down over his knees.

“Like, seriously!” Your voice trills in a whine, annoyed. Once again, he can’t move. Can’t find himself wanting to. He wants to experience this, to experience you firsthand. A better man would move, a better man wouldn’t let their most base desires control him. But he is no better than an ant now, following in your lead.

“Uhg, I do so much work–” Your hand has found its way inside of his boxers now. He wishes he changed them after last night, but it’s too late for wishing now, isn’t it? “And you don’t even make a move?! Like you’re kidding me, right?”

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know a word that’s leaving your lips. If he thought he did, its vanished by the feeling of your smooth, gentle hands wrapped around his cock. Flicking over it almost painfully, like you want to hurt him. Just a little. Just to get back at him for all the turmoil he’s apparently put you through.

He’s panting now, breath coming out in short bursts through his nose as he watches your hand. Feels it actually touch his skin. Anything he could have imagined was negligible compared to this. Something that couldn’t be reached by anyone else. No one other than you.

“I play with you so nice too! I treat you like a good toy!” You whine, seeming to get more and more irritated by the second. More and more irritated that he isn’t responding to your words. His cock jumps, more and more precum collecting at the tip. That seems to make you happy, a cute little hum leaving your lips.

“You want me. Don’t you Choso?” Your eyes are round, looking up at him almost like a puppy dog. No one could turn you away. No one would ever want to when you look at them like that. A curt nod is all he can manage. All he can force out of his body to do with your hand rubbing his cock in a way that should be illegal. Anything more and he would look like a babbling idiot, he’s sure of it.

You must have some sympathy, some compassion for the man as you let him go. Pull your hands from his boxers. So down on his luck, the most beautiful girl in the world between his legs. A small smile aids itself to your lips as you speak.

“Let's get these off of you, yeah?” You hum, fingers gently playing with the ridge of his boxers. He doesn’t fight you, doesn’t retreat as you pull them down. “Aww poor thing, you liked the show a little too much last night, huh? Just a mess, huh? You giggle, mocking the state of his undergarments. The places he just couldn’t get clean enough with a towel. God, he really is gross.

He’s once again wrapped up in himself. In his own thoughts, thinking of trying to get out of your mocking tone. How to save face in front of what he deems perfection. So much so that he entirely misses the way your eyes widen at his size. Whatever you dreamed of, it could not have been this. It’s too big, too big for most anyone to handle. Longer than your hand, thicker than your fingers could wrap around. Pretty veins running along the left side.

It could destroy you. But it won’t.

“It’s not like that–” His voice is cut off once again with your tongue. A thick strip painting from base to tip. Tasting his salty skin.

Fuck, he falls back into the chair. Trying to find some facet to cling to so he doesn’t black out into utter hysteria. His fantasies never even touched your mouth. Thought of how it might move across his skin. No, he wouldn’t dare. Yet now that he is living it, experiencing it he knows that it wasn’t meant for him to. The mere knowledge that your lips might wrap around the head of his cock sends him teetering over an edge that shouldn’t exist.

His hips buck upwards, trying to get a small piece of anything you’re willing to spare. “Ah ah, we can’t get ahead of ourselves, yeah? I deserve this, you know? All for me~” He doesn’t know how a voice as pure as yours can touch him like this. Gripping his cock at its base, squeezing it just enough that it hurts, yet not too much so that it’s uncomfortable. One stroke, two is all you give him. Your wrist flicking over the pretty head, spreading his precum all along his length as lubricant.

He does all he can to stifle his groans; pretend he isn’t completely falling apart. But your lips lick the head, smiling at the taste. Moving to just take the head inside of your mouth. Slowly moving your head up and down. Watching him, perceiving him. Observing the twitches of his mouth, the brace of his hands, the plant of his feet on the floor. The way his hips beg to move, to piston upwards to fuck your throat dry. Awww~ but it doesn’t look like he can even do that.

His eyes are glossy. Face red up to his ears.You gag, taking in just a little bit more than you were meant too. A smile twitching to your mouth as you finally hear it, the thing you thought you heard last night. Ah, his voice! Who would have thought, truly, that a man could turn into this?

You did, of course. And ever since first laying eyes on his pale face, his tired eyes, you knew you wanted to do it to him over, and over, and over again. Good thing Yuuji said you could, huh? Even if it took a little begging.

A choked cry leaves his throat as you pull away. His hips arching, bucking up to try and find relief once again inside of your mouth. He’s desperate, brought back down to his base instincts as a man. A short whisper of a word leaves his throat as you stand, thinking you’re leaving him. Leaving him with nothing but a sore cock once again.

“You’re gonna fill me up good, right puppy?” But you’re not leaving him. You’re pulling off your leggings, panties following suit. You’re crawling onto his lap. Knees balanced against the arm rests as you position your tight, practically dripping hole above his cock. God, you look so needy. Probably are so needy, just wanting him. Only wanting the satisfaction he can provide.

God, your fingers. They’re spreading your lips so he can see. See just what he’s done from sitting there and taking it like a good boy. He was right. Your body was constructed by the heavens above. Perfect in all its glory. A finger running between your folds, collecting yourself on your fingers.

“Will it fit?” He asks, though it almost comes out as a plea. Desperate to feel you, to have you wrapped around him. “Let me~” You shush him, fingers sliding into his mouth. Letting him taste you. Taste what he is missing out on.

“Mmm mmm.” You mutter simply, though he’s too distracted. Too distracted until you lower yourself onto him; just enough so the head inside. Just enough so that you can at least try to adjust to the intrusion that he brings. His head is a messy fog. Hips gently rocking, trying to gain some relief while not pushing your poor, under prepared hole.

Your hands on his abdomen as you slowly begin to slide up and down, taking in a little more and more with each motion. Filling you up completely, painfully. Heavenly. His hands find your hips. Soothing the burn, rubbing gentle circles into whatever flesh he can find. Thanking you for not pushing him away.

“Shit–” The cuss strings past your lips as your hips meet his, a loud groan leaving his own. The light of the living room proving evidence of your sin.

His eyes look down, finding where your bodies meet, “Fuck me…” He groans, his always tired eyes looking more alert, more at attention than they ever have before. Watching as you rock your hips slowly, deliberately. You only watch him. A sheen of sweat already covering both of your bodies.

His thumb slides down, finding purchase on your clit. He groans at the sight, rubbing circles into the soft bundle of nerves. He’s not going to last. He knows it. He’s going to completely blow his load before your first bounce on his cock. Fuck, he can’t take it. He knows he won’t be able to with the way you squeeze around him. The way your walls flutter so tight over his length.

God he should have taken his time, urged you to let him eat you out or something so he could have had the chance to calm down. To relax for a moment before his cock was nestled deep inside. Fuck.

And now you’re moving. The pain subsided, turning into nothing but pleasure. And god he must be leaving holes in the fucking chair, his hands returning to their places on the arm rest. He makes the mistake of looking, watching his cock glide inside your pussy effortlessly. Watching as you make a mess all over his lap. Watching as he makes a mess all over you.

God and it’s over for him, his head thrown back against the chair. His hips jerking wildly into your wet heat as he fucks his cum deep into your walls. Watch as the room goes white, euphoria filling his senses.

Shame is all he feels as he drops back against the chair. He’s disappointed you, he knows he has. There is no other explanation. You didn’t get off at all and he's received, well, everything. Apologies tumble from his mouth, over and over again they are spoken. Yet, when he finds your eyes already staring back down at him, there's something off. A fire inside of them, one that refuses to be quelled.

Your hips don’t stop moving, don't stop the ease of grinding against him. Sliding almost all the way out, just until he can see the start of the head before landing all the way back down. You’re not stopping, and his cock isn’t getting soft.

“Awwww!” You giggle, hands pressing against his pecks, leaning close to his face so he can hear you nice and clear. Hear the smile, the mockery in your tone. “You just couldn’t hold it in huh? What a cute, pathetic little thing!”

His cock is growing sore, it’s hurting. It’s too sensitive. He can’t take it. He doesn’t want to.

“Don’t worry, yeah? I’m still gonna cum so don’t feel bad, hmm? Just be a good little cock toy.”

Or does it hurt? Does it feel good? His head arches back, conflicting feelings of both pain and pleasure overtaking his senses. He tries to focus on one or the other, anything really, but he can’t. He can’t do anything but sit there and be good just for you. He knows he wants to do that. It’s the least he can do, right? For being just a wretched, pathetic man.

Too bad it's so hard to pull away. But you’re addicting, and he can’t help but try to find his fix. No matter how much it hurts, he can’t help but find sparks in the way you move. Your hips moving rapidly, fucking yourself onto his cock without a care for how he might be feeling. How good he must be feeling dancing along the fine line between pain and pleasure, not daring to stick a toe into either side of the tides for fear of not returning.

Not a care for how you grab his hand, press his thumb against your clit and rub circles until he gets the hint, gaining enough clarity to do it on his own. Your voice is all he can hear through his rough pants, air catching in his throat forming a groan every time you move. Every time you test him, urge him to stop if he can’t take it.

But he will take it. He’ll feed himself to you on a silver platter, apple tied in his mouth if you wanted him to. He takes all of it. Basks in the glow of your pussy finding pleasure in his cock. And once again he can feel the bubble in the pit of his stomach growing, telling him once again that he’s close. So terribly close he doesn’t know how much more he can take.

So he focuses on your voice– tries to at least. As much as he can while his head is spinning. Filled with clouds and spinning like a cyclone. The beautiful melodic voice he heard when you first arrived. The pristine laugh you let out on the first night. The whines you’d release when he’d rub sunblock into his back, and now the same voice he heard the night before. Chanting his name, whispering it close in his ear. Only this time it’s real. Your arms wrapped around his neck, your moans filling his ear drums.

His name falling from your lips as you moan about how close you are. About how good he feels.

Your hips moving faster, harsher against his own than ever before. His thumb pressing against your clit, urging you to your release as he hangs on the precipice of his own. Cock twitching with every menstruation, walls fluttering against him until finally, your hips fall against his own. Your voice letting out a moan, his own doing the same as he releases thick streams of white into your walls for the second time that night.

You tighten around him, almost unbearably so with how sensitive, how much of a mess the poor man’s cock is. Your hips grinding gently, coaxing the both of you through your orgasms until bodies fall against one another. The waves of pleasure soothing into a gentle tide, neither of you moving to remove yourselves from the other.

Your head rests against his shoulder, his hand coming up to hold the back of your neck gently. To keep you there, to bask in the moment before the timer comes to an end and he realises what he has done. What the both of you have done. He should panic. He should. But all of the energy is sucked dry from his body. He can’t move, he doesn’t want to. Not when his cock is still tucked deep inside of you. When he can still feel you.

After the glow has faded and only sweaty bodies are left in the room you get up, though he isn’t entirely sure when. His eyelids heavy, falling down no matter how hard he tries to keep them awake.

When he wakes up, nothing is amiss. His pants are up, his hair is combed. You and Yuuji are sitting happily on the couch watching a movie. Was it all a dream? No, no it couldn’t have been. That doesn’t make sense. He knows it was real. He knows it.

“Morning.” Itadori smiles, noticing his big brother awake. Looking around the room in utter shock and confusion. His eyes slowly drift to the both of you, Yuuji’s arm tucked around your shoulders like nothing.

The knowing smile you give him is all the evidence he needs that it was real.

“We didn’t wake you up, right?” You ask innocently, head tilting to the side. He shakes his head, still in a bit of shock. “Good, good…” you sing song, turning your attention back to the tv with ease.

“Did you wanna tell him the good news or should I?” Yuuji asks, looking over to you with that confident smile he always has on his face. The smile Choso loves. The one he wants to protect and keep safe as his big brother.

“Me! Me!” You say excitedly, almost bouncing in your seat. “Yuuji invited me to stay over the summer too! Isn’t that amazing?!”

Choso is going to die. For real this time.

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