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#but there he is.........there he is indeed
tonycries · 3 days
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Welcome To The Itadori's! - C.K.
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Synopsis. Three times Choso really, really wanted to hold you without his family barging in, and the one time he actually does. 
Pairing. Best friend! Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, childhood best friends to lovers, slowburn, cameos from the Itadori’s (Yuji, Jin, grandpa, SUKUNA), smút only when they’re adults, first times, oral (female receiving), cúnnilingus, marking, rough, Choso’s a bit mean in bed, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 5.0k
A/N. The unc-kuna brainrot got me here, Yuji’s family tree is HILARIOUS.
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“You’ve never what?”  
“I mean, yeah? So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”
Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t. Whatever the answer was, Choso could only pray that no one walked into your apartment right now.
---
Choso swears his family is well and fully intent on ruining every waking moment with you. 
He’s convinced even, at this point. Because in the 13 long years of being inseparable from you - ever since you were both whiney, snot-faced brats - Choso’s racked up more interruptions than he’s seen on those k-dramas that his grandfather swears he doesn’t watch.
It was like some cosmic joke, really. All he wanted was a moment with just the two of you…and maybe a second or two to confess his undying love. But that didn’t seem too realistic when the Itadori’s were a bit of a packaged deal, unfortunately.  
Alas, Choso’s resigned himself to accept the fact that maybe - just maybe - this was the universe’s way of telling him that his pretty best friend was indeed too good for him. Something he’s suspected ever since the both of you were eight.
The realization had hit him like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact. And a whole zoo of animals afterward.
Of course, it’s not like that was any secret. He always thought you were perfect from the second you’d moved in - that new family next door he’d been eagerly waiting ages to arrive. And Choso, being the dutiful oldest son, was the one to deliver welcome cookies to your doorstep. Stumbling, and carefully trying to reach for the doorbell without dropping any. 
“Um, welcome to-”
“Your hair’s funny.”
Now, Choso’s never greeted neighbors before, but it surely wasn’t supposed to go like this. Why was he being insulted by some little girl - you were missing a few teeth, and his had just grown back in so obviously he was much older and wiser. All unapologetic smiles and twinkling eyes as you blink up curiously at his space buns. Pretty, even when you were tearing his heart out because hey, he thought this hairstyle was cool, okay?
Which is what had him huffing and puffing back home, running straight into the arms of his dad while he tried not to cry. That is, until you came knocking at his door with your parents. Very much bawling and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug with wet mumbles of “M’sorry, meant your hair’s very cool. Wanna match-”
And, if his cheeks burned just a bit, well, Choso blamed the tears. 
After a disaster like that, of course you’d grow to be best friends within the day. 
But what that didn’t explain was when - after hours of bickering over whether to play tag or house - you were all tuckered out and sat beside him in a corner of his room, too exhausted to talk his ear off. Head lolling once. Twice. Falling softly onto his shoulder.
Oh. 
Now, Choso might just be having the first epiphany of his entire, grueling eight years in this world - that you were very, very pretty fast asleep with your head on his shoulder. 
Why? Why were you here barging into his life and turning it upside down? Calling him your “new best friend” and dragging him along wherever you went. It made his poor head absolutely spin, not daring to move a muscle so that you didn’t wake up and see this tiny predicament.
He didn’t know why. But what he did know was that he found himself subconsciously reaching for your hand, a strange little part of himself wanting to see how much smaller they were than his. They looked so soft and warm and-
“I WANNA PLAY T- Oh.”
Oh indeed. He hastily lurches away from you like it burned, hands raised like he was caught red-handed. Feeling slightly sorry when he sees you blinking away the sleep to take in your surroundings, eyes bouncing off of a very excited Yuji and resting on the clock.
“Oh no. Mommy’s gonna be mad.” you gasp, hastily getting up. And he feels a weird pang as you quickly dust down your dress, running out the door with a laughed out, “Bye, Yuji! See ya later, Cho~!”
“Bye, crybaby.”
And then it’s quiet. Only Choso still staring after you, and Yuji staring at his older brother, somewhat awestruck and wondering only one thing-
“Big bro, why are you so red?”
Choso doesn’t think he’s gotten a moment alone with you since that first initial meeting. 
Fourteen was definitely the worst, in his opinion.
“Hey, Cho, y’know the girl sitting next to me in math said she had her first kiss today.”
“Oh.” It’s all Choso can manage to get out, paying more attention than he should to the gravel beneath him as he tries not to trip over air beside you. Hot under his uniform collar at the sudden shift in conversation from the usual after-school banter. 
Looping your arm with his, you heave out a playful sigh, “I wonder what that feels like. Have you ever thought about it?” 
No, but Choso has never thought that he’d be here - face burning at your body pressed up against his. Just knowing that his ancestors above are laughing at what a loser he is, barely able to stammer out an answer to your question. 
Okay, maybe he was being dramatic. Because it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about kissing before - it’s just that whenever it popped into his mind, you were usually accompanying him. Along with those strange thoughts of whether your lips are as soft as they looked? Or would your heartbeat be as fast as-
“Man, are you even listening?” 
Shit. 
Your hand waving in front of Choso’s face brings him back to reality. Blinking hastily, he tries to gather his thoughts, mumbling out a quick, “Uh, yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought.” averting his gaze as he feels the heat rise to his cheeks at your intense gaze.
Your smile only widens, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you nudge his side. “Thinking so hard about kissing, huh? Cho, you lecher!” 
“Am not.”
“Am to.”
“Am not.”
“Am to.”
“Who were you imagining it with, huh? Gonna give ‘em a big smooch tomorrow?”
God, you were going to be the death of him. “N-no! I haven’t even- shut up, crybaby, it’s not like-” he sputters out useless protests over your laughter - his favorite song, even when you were teasing the hell out of him. But ah how you relish in his embarrassment, tittering out little giggles all the way until you’re steering him onto your lane. 
Choso, on the other hand, keeps wishing the ground would swallow him up more and more with each step towards his porch. He’d have broken into a sprint right then if he hadn’t known you and the way you’d race him there instead.
“Alright.” you declare once you’re stood at his front door, jolting Choso out of his reverie. And he’s barely opening his mouth to register your words before you plowing on confidently. “We’ll just have to practice our first kisses with each other.”
Perfect. Great. Wonderful. 
The final nail on his coffin. You might as well have planted a bombshell right in the middle of his already-chaotic world with the way he was reeling in- shock? Fear? Anticipation?
“Practice.” Choso whispers, more to himself than you. Yet you nod anyway, eyes locked with his like you were studying his reaction. “For…practice.”
Doubt starts to creep into your pretty features, “Well, we don’t have to if you do-”
“No no no no, I want- ahem.” he cringes at the pathetic desperation in his voice. Desperately trying to scramble back some semblance of sanity as he clears his throat, “I want to. Just-” Choso urgently looks around for- ah, there it is. 
Dragging over the brick from the side of his porch because goddammit he might be 14 but he sure hadn’t hit that growth spurt yet. “Practice, right?”
You nod with a fiery determination that, later on, would make Choso chuckle with fondness. Muttering out a firm, “Practice.” Letting the boy in front of you nervously leans closer, breath fanning your face. And shit if you were nervous then you didn’t show it, but Choso felt like he was about to spontaneously combust. 
Brows furrowing in concentration, eyes only squinting ever-so-slightly as he takes peaks at how pretty you looked. Close enough that he could count every lash as your pretty eyes closed shut, lips glistening with that strawberry chapstick you loved, puckering adorably. Only inching closer and-
Click! 
“You two are so cute! But um- dear, how do you mute this thing?”
You spring apart so fast that Choso wouldn’t be surprised if you’d teleported. He doesn’t even know what’s happening before, from the safety of about three meters away from him, you’re muttering out an embarrassed little, “Hi there, Mr. Itadori. The gardenia are coming along nicely.”
His dad smiles like he hadn’t just starred in what was likely Choso’s villain origin story. Waving happily, “Aww, thank you, sweetheart. Now, why don’t you two go back to doing your lil’ thing and I can ah- practice my photography.”
“Dad, I’m running away.”
That practice kiss never happens. And, well, if there was a proudly framed photo down the hallway of the two of you - with Choso absolutely bright red and standing comically on a brick to meet your height, faces nervously scrunching towards each other - well, neither of you ever mention it. Jin Itadori does, though - every time you come over, in fact. 
It’s only when you’re both eighteen, when Choso’s a lot deeper in his feelings - and only slightly less embarrassed about it - that he thinks that maybe not all family interruptions were that bad. 
Graduation was…something. Not exactly something that he’s sure if he’ll ever want to relive with the sheer amount of awkward photos and tears that his dad lets out. God if he has to shuffle into another-
“You alright, Cho?”
Ah. 
Traitorously, a smile makes its way onto his face, peering down at your beaming face. Both of you having made it way past the awkward early teens. Well, at least you certainly have - Choso still feels like the same awkward little boy with an even more awkward crush. “Hm? Yeah, m’great.” 
“Are ya sure? Because you look like you’re about to have an aneurysm any second now.” you raise a brow teasingly. Ah, how gorgeous you were - even when you’re picking him apart. 
“Yeah. Great. Only had this smile plastered on for the last five hours.”
“Aww, but you look so pretty smiling.” you shrug, with the audacity of someone that didn’t just have Choso’s knees dangerously weak. “Anyway- A bunch of us are gonna try to convince ol’ Yaga to let us take photos with his shades, you wanna come?”
“You think m’pretty?” he muses, embarrassingly late.
“Cho.”
“Yaga. Shades. Got it.” Choso mock salutes, drinking in the little laugh it startles out of you, eyes sparkling with mischief and looking right into his soul. Beautiful. You were always beautiful. 
And Choso can’t just stand around and do nothing about it.
“Crybaby, look, I-” Fists clenching, he takes a steadying breath. The heat only rising to his cheeks at your awaiting gaze, “I…”
“HEY, GRANDPA HELPED STEAL YAGA’S SHADES LET’S TAKE A PIC-”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP ITADORI. YOU’RE RUINING A MOMENT, LET THEM HAVE THEIR MOMENT.”
“I don’t know either of you two.”
It would be a miracle for a moment not to be ruined with two overly-energetic first-years (and a very reluctant Fushiguro) pushing their way into your little bubble. Choso bites back a groan as you’re immediately swarmed by a bickering Kugisaki and Yuji, one apologizing for “ruining your k-drama moment” and the other trying to get you to put on some sunglasses. Well, at least he could empathize with the black-haired boy, who gave him an apologetic nod. 
He’s only halfway through waving off the interruption before a voice speaks up from his side. “Why didn’t you say it?”
Whirling around, Choso comes face-to-face with the disappointed look on his grandfather’s face. Already having some idea of what you mean, “Wha-”
“I may be old but m’not deaf, yet, boy. Why didn’t ya tell her?” he sighs, tilting his head to where you were wearing those shades and taking ridiculous pictures with two animated first-years. 
“I don’t know what you-”
“M’not blind, either. Quite frankly I’m insulted.”
And, well, if there’s anyone that he can’t hide from - it would be his grandfather. So he heaves out a defeated sigh, touselling his hair while muttering out a pathetic little, “M’not- Ugh, she’s too fuckin’ perfect and I…I chickened out.”
Choso doesn’t know what he expected in response but it definitely wasn’t for his grandfather to laugh. Full, and raspy - loud enough that even you stop to stare. “Thought so, idiot boy.” he chuckles, drawing indignant protests. “Did she tell you?”
Raising a brow, “What?”
“Did she tell you that you weren’t good ‘nough for her?”
“No, but-” Whatever protest on the tip of Choso’s tongue is cut off by a rough hand smacking his back in what he thinks is reassurance, but felt more like a punishment for being such a pussy around you all these years. 
“Then go. Ya might just be surprised. After all, you’re my grandson, and all the ladies at bingo love me.”
Shaking with both adrenaline and the effort to keep that image out of his mind, he makes his way towards you. Purposeful. Pointedly ignoring the matching smirks flashed his way. 
“You really think they’ll finally get together today?” Fushiguro deadpans from where he’d snuck up beside the old man, in an attempt to escape the public nuisances he calls ‘friends’. 
Choso’s grandfather hums thoughtfully, watching the scene play out before him - Choso flushed such a delicate shade of pink as you playfully put Yaga’s sunglasses on him. Settling on a gruff, “I’ll give it a few months more. He’s my grandson, after all.”
“That’s generous. I’d give it a couple years more.”
“Wanna bet, brat?”
“...”
Safe to say, his second button ended up safely in your hands that day. But Fushiguro would be the one to really win the bet. 
Because it was only 2 years, 4 months and 3 weeks after this little incident that Choso finally had you exactly where he wanted - with no interruptions. All for him. 
Freshly twenty one, splayed out on your apartment bedroom and having a conversation that he never in a million years would’ve even dared to imagine he’d have - with you of all people. All because of that stupid R-rated film you’d put on for movie night. 
“You’ve never what?” you gape, turning down the volume to those painfully fake moans coming from the tv.
Oh, how gorgeous you looked - all shocked and batting your lashes up at him in surprise. Choso almost swoons inwardly (and outwardly) before he realizes that shit you were probably waiting for an answer.
“I mean, yeah?” he sputters out, cheeks heating up as you lean in closer to hear him. Close. “So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”
Goddammit, some strange, carnal part of himself twinges dangerously at the little smirk that curls your lips. One that he quickly - and embarrassingly - realizes has the blood rushing straight to his cock. Humming a low, “Maybe. Maybe not.” The mattress dips slightly as you shift closer, lips ghosting his ear. “Want me to help you find out?”
Which is, well, how Choso found himself shoved against the armrest. Blanket thrown on the floor now, swollen cock leaking furiously through his pants as your pretty lil’ cunt hovers above his mouth. So wet that if he stuck his tongue out he could have you dripping all onto him. 
“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” he hisses despite his hands looping around your thighs, bringing you closer to him.
You raise a brow, “Are you sure, Cho?”
He should say no. He should laugh this all off as a bad joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wants just a taste of your dripping pussy - see if she’s as sweet as the rest of you is. So, throwing caution to the wind, Choso nods slowly. “Yes. Want it s’bad.”
Grinning wickedly, you whisper, “Thought so.” And then he’s pulling you onto his mouth, hot and urgent.
“Oh fuck-” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the first taste of your sweet sweet juices. “Shit shit shit.” So sloppily licking up your swollen folds - barely moving with any method or patience, just that he’s drunk on your pussy and wants more more more-
“Hngh- f-fuck. You sure this is your hah- first time, Cho?” you gasp breathlessly. And oh your best friend was so fucking beautiful. Dark hair untied and tousled, eyes half-hooded, your slick already smearing across the bottom half of his face and trickling down his jaw because shit he was so messy. So addicted to that desperate expression on your face that he just can’t help but tease you a little bit. 
“Mhm?” he smirks, tongue swirling around your pulsing clit. Purposefully missing right where you wanted him the most because shit he loved those cute lil’ whines spilling out of you. 
You let out a huff, hips trying pathetically to inch him closer - but Choso wasn’t budging. Holding you so firmly by the hips that you’re sure he leaves bruises, licking all over your cunt except for your clit. “Cho.” you warn. Brows furrowing in frustration at the way he bats his long lashes up at you so deceivingly innocently, “What?”
“You know…”
“I don’t.” he titters teasingly into your pussy. 
“Choso.”
Now, Choso’s known and seen everything there is to do with you - but never like this. Spread open shamefully and pouting so adorably on top of him, so needy for him. It made his head spin to think of just how much the dynamics had shifted. 
Shit, he really should’ve watched that godforsaken movie with you sooner. “Tell me what you want, crybaby.”
And oh how his cock twitches at the way you manage to get out an embarrassed little, “Wan’ you to ngh- tonguefuck me properly. Wanna cum on your pretty face, Cho.”
And that’s all that’s said before he’s surging forward, glossy lips wrapping around your pulsing clit to suck harshly. Rolling his soft tongue over and over-
“Wanted this for so long.” Choso mutters, muffled as he buries himself deeper into your pretty pussy. The vibrations sending white-hot pleasure running down your spine. “You have absolutely no idea, pretty.”
And you barely even have the time to register his little confession before Choso’s moving down to bully his tongue past your folds. Nose pressing against your throbbing clit as he dips into your sloppy hole. 
“Oh shit. Jus’ like that.” For a beginner, your best friend really knew what he was doing. Eating you out like his favorite meal, tongue squeezing into your snug pussy to thrust in and out, swipe against your walls, stretching you out right to his will. Over and over-
“Use me.”
Your eyes snap down to meet the pure adoration in his eyes as he makes out filthily with your cunt. Choking out a little, “What?”
“Use me.”
There it was again - that strained little mantra. And as if to prove his point, Choso reaches out to deftly place your hands on his head, bucking into you touch. 
And, well, how could you say no to that?
Because before you know it, you’re bunching Choso’s soft strands in your fists. Angling him just right to ride his pretty face. “C’mon, Cho. Ngh- H-harder, jus’ a bit- Oh!” he just devours the way your mouth drops into an adorable little oh! as his tongue curls deftly against that one spot. Again and again. Letting himself be so used, dragging your dripping cunt harder on his mouth. 
And he likes it. Hell, he loves it even - because you’re so sweet n’ pretty on his mouth. Better than everything he’s ever been dreaming of for the past few years. And always in his dreams, you’d be clenching so deliciously around his tongue when you were close - just like right now. 
So he speeds up his movements, breathing you in maddeningly. A hand snaking down from it’s favorite place on your hips to draw quick, frenzied little circles on your poor, ravaged clit. Jaw almost aching with how filthily he was dripping in and out of your entrance - be he did give a shit. Only wanting to have you breathless and creaming all over his face.
You jerk violently on top of him, “Hah! S’too much, Cho. M’so close- gonna cum- gonna-”
And then you’re cumming. Fast, and hard. 
Plushy walls clamping down on Choso’s tongue, hips stuttering on his face as he laps up all your juices, an arm around your waist helping you ride his face through your high. 
“S’sweet. Could get used to that.” he slurs into your cunt. Tipping his head back as far as it’d go to let the last of your juices slide down his throat. “Better than I imagined.”
The words ring in your ears as you blink back your vision. Deliriously whirling down to look down at Choso - still beneath you and looking more smug and content than you’d ever seen him. “Imagination? S’that why you’re so good.”
“No.”
You’re being flipped before you know it. Manhandled so easily by your best friend as he lays you on your back, sinking into the cushion while he looms above you. “S’jus’ that…” grunting as he flings his shirt off, “Been dreaming of your pretty cunt on m’tongue for years.”
Okay, now his confession hits - more than it did when he was tonguefucking you into insanity, anyway. 
“Years, huh?” you breathe out, eyes roaming all over his sculpted torso. Taking in every dip and curve of Choso’s toned abs - all the way from his broad shoulders to the rock-hard cock straining against his pants. As if in a trance, your hand reaches out to cup his leaking erection, “S’that all you’ve been dreaming of?”
“You little minx.” he lets out a low hiss. 
Before you can even react, Choso’s fumbling with that belt - cursing because shit, he’d have worn sweatpants instead if he knew they’d end up on your floor. 
And you’re not any better, fingers popping open his buttons and tugging impatiently and oh- You always thought that your best friend would have a big dick - but this?  He was so intimidatingly long - and thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. Fat tip flushed such a pretty shade of pink to match his cheeks, leaking down down down, all the way to his heavy balls. 
You’re only jolted out of your little reverie by Choso spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering cunt, spreading it lazily across your pussy with his thumb. A ringed fist pumping his cock slowly, as he drags his tip across your folds, pooling your sweet juices. Muttering out a raspy, “I’ll be gentle.”
“You better not be, now jus’ fuck me-”
Well, you didn’t have to ask Choso twice. Because you’ve barely gotten the words out before he’s bullying massive cock into your tight cunt. Pressing in inch by fucking inch as you gasp and buck underneath him. 
“Shhh, s’okay, crybaby. This is what you wanted, right?” he mumbles, with all the audacity of someone that wasn’t fucking into you in rapid, mindless little jabs to fit inside your snug lil’ pussy. Struggling to hold back at this point. “Wanted to be split apart on m’cock?”
You were so full of him. Even more so when he throws your legs over his shoulders, bending all the way down and folding you in half so easily beneath him. 
He drinks in the barely-lucid squeal that leaves your swollen lips. Kissing your forehead gently, whispering against the skin, “Because I’ve wanted this for so fucking long.”
And then it was like something snapped - maybe his sanity, maybe the restraint that Choso’s been holding back for too long. Because immediately he’s plunging his throbbing cock into you - all the way till his balls, all angry and squeezing so painfully, smacks against your ass. 
“Wanted this.” he rasps into your open mouth. His hips were out of control now, thrusting you in shallow, desperate rams. Pounding into you like a man possessed, and running his mouth just as much. He laces his fingers on top of your head, pushing you down even deeper into his relentless cock - as if the bastard wasn’t fucking you dumb already. “Fuckin’ needed this needed this. Shit- so bad.”
“Ch-Choso- fuck hah-” you plead as his mouth clashes with yours. All sloppy with teeth and spit and his profanities - and it felt so damn good. 
“Yeah? Who’s fucking you silly, now?” he’s going harder now, tip hitting your poor cervix over and over. And you’d be sobbing at the burn and the stretch but all you can think of is shit this is Choso - the kid you used to play hide and seek with. And now he seems fully intent on breaking you. “Say m’name.”
A rough thumb starts toying with your clit, in time with the cute lil’ whines of his name that escape your mouth like a prayer. “Shit. Y’look so pretty like this.” he babbles. “Gonna cry, pretty girl?” smirking down at the way you were too cockdrunk to even snap back, only looking up at him with delirious, teary eyes. “Be a crybaby for my cock?”
You’re tugging on his hair, thighs shaky and bucking upwards. “Cho-”
“Mhm?”
“W-wanna cum. Need you to fill m’up till I can’t take it anymore.”
Oh if Choso was any lesser man he’d have cum right then and there. Instead settling for a guttural groan, drunk off the way you were milking his cock so hard as if to prove your point. It almost made him want to stay like this forever. But no - not right now. 
“Oh yeah?” Hips becoming sloppy now, “Need it? Shit- m’so close.” Each word slurred, punctuated by a harsh thrust, strokes long and frenzied. Using your heavenly pussy like his personal fucktoy. So hard that he’s sure you’d have embarrassing matching bruises tomorrow - his balls on your ass, your nails raking down his shoulders.
“Me too- fuck fuck fuck-” you mewl into his neck, as Choso buried his face into yours. 
“Cum f’me, my girl.”
My girl. 
And then you are - and he is. And you don’t know who cums first, just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes and Choso’s teeth digging into your neck as he thrusts once. Twice. Before cumming and cumming so hard he might as well have seen the pearly gates of heaven. And you were an angel.
Thick, hot ropes of cum that paint your walls white, so much that it gushes out of your poor overfilled pussy. Dripping down your legs and pooling into a sinful, creamy ring at his base. 
“Mm- shit. Choso.” you moan, barely audible over the lewd squelches from below. 
“M’here, my girl.” he grits out, voice shot. And it seems that that was his new favorite nickname, because Choso keeps murmuring it over and over as he keeps fucking his seed into you. Not even thinking about it at this point - just mindless, shallow grinds of his hips. 
In the haze of your orgasm, you think you hear his quiet voice, strained with exhaustion and something that you weren’t in the right state of mind to decipher right now. 
“Shhh, m’here. “Can’t believe I waited so fuckin’ long.” Whispering against your lips, “Love this. Love this pretty cunt.” Kissing softly, “Love the way y’take me. Fuckin’ made f’me.” And maybe even a soft little, “Love you.”
And maybe - just maybe, you whisper the same into his. Kissing him softly, exactly the way you’d wanted to all these years. 
Neither of you speak after that. Not when Choso’s hips stall, body sticky and collapsing onto yours. Nor do you speak when he pulls away with a playful nip to your lower lip - a promise. Searching through your clothes for a washcloth he can wipe yourselves clean with. 
It’s only when he settles back under the covers beside you, looking at you with such dark, hazy eyes - whirling with too many emotions to name - that the silence is broken. 
“Crybaby.”
“Cho.”
“Corny.”
“You started it.”
Chuckling, Choso pulls your body close to his. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two because shit now that he’s got you, he doesn’t think he ever wants to let you go. 
“Y’know…” he starts, “I think we should- I mean- if you want…” nervous now more than he was even after all that just transpired. Cheeks flaring as he meets your amused gaze, just daring him to go on - because you saw through him. You always did. “I lov-”
“Am I late for the mov- WHAT THE FUCK I ALWAYS KNEW BRATS WEREN’T JUST FRIENDS-”
---
Itadori Family Groupchat + Two More
Dad: Hey, all. I can’t seem to get a hold of Choso to confirm tomorrow’s dinner plans. Can anyone else let me know if he’s ok? XX
-Jin.
Yuji <3: He’s probs at rhat “best friend movie night” still 
Dad: Hello, Yuji. What is a “probs”? XX
-Jin.
Kugisaki: He’s suspiciously quiet, though… Y’all think that “best friend movie night” is codeword for something else? 
Yuji <3: Better not be cuz Sukuna stole my sparw key sayin something ab crashing it idk
Kugisaki: *spare
And you just LET him?
Yuji <3: HE THREATENED TO BURN MY MEGAN THEE STALLION POSTER 
AND DID IT ANYWAY
Kugisaki: L
Fushiguro: L
Gramps: L
Sukuna (do not answer): DID Y’ALL KNOW THOSE TWO WERE FUCKIN????
*Fushiguro has left the chat*
Dad: :0
-Jin.
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A/N. Spiritually, this is a crackfic idk.
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jingyuans-precious · 3 days
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your lover was nowhere to be found. you wandered around the house, checking every room. he usually liked to stay inside and would tell you if he was going out, so where was he?
that was until you walked towards the gardens, seeing a familiar figure basking in the warm sunlight.
breathing out a sigh of relief, you approach him from behind to embrace him.
“there you are, my beloved..” you say softly
“mhmm, indeed i am. were you looking for me, my love?”
your lover gently guided you to sit on his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder so the two of you could bask in the warmth together.
— JING YUAN, ZHONGLI, Kaeya, Alhaitham, Ayato, Diluc, Neuvillette, WRIOTHESLEY, Welt, Dan Heng + your faves ♡
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harunayuuka2060 · 3 days
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Savanaclaw student A: Dude— What the fuck are you doing?
Savanaclaw student B: Nail art, motherfucker.
Yuurin: ...
Savanaclaw student C: Can you two stop cussing? Our lil sis is here with us.
Savanaclaw students A and B: ...
Savanaclaw student B: *clears throat* Anyway, what kind of design do you like, lil sis?
Yuurin: Any will do, senpai.
Savanaclaw student B: Hmm... Hey, you jerks! What nail art do you think is best for Yuurin?
Savanaclaw student A: Something pink!
Savanaclaw student C: Something blue!
Savanaclaw student B: Idiots! I shouldn't have asked!
Epel: Wow~! Your nails are so cute, Yuurin!
Yuurin's nails:
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Yuurin: Thank you.
Idia and Ortho: ...
Ortho: Brother, you can approach her.
Idia: And what will I say? "Hey, Yuurin. Can I see your cutie cat nails?" And what? She'll think I'm a creep.
Ortho: ...
Ortho: Alright. I'll pass that message.
Idia: Wait— No! *immediately hides in embarrassment when Ortho indeed approached her and started telling her what he said*
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sailorsally · 11 hours
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People can hate Misha as much as they want but the reality is that none of the other actors on SPN, including Jensen and Jared, have done an ounce of what Misha did to make fans feel welcome and supported over the years. Misha, to this day, remains the only cast member from the main cast who will not shy away from discussing any topic fans want to talk about.
Yes, Jensen & Jared will of course also answer questions but only to the extent of it being their job. It'd be easier for Misha to behave like them, just to show up to a panel, give politically correct answers, bag the money and go home. But that's not the kind of person Misha is. He really cares about the fandom and thinks of it as his group and friends so it is especially sad when so many people cannot seem to be able to return the friendship back and will indeed do their damnest to always take everything he does or says in a bad faith, misinterpret things he says on purpose and insult him on daily. That is not how relationships work, parasocial or not. The anonymity of the internet gives a lot of people the cover to show their true colors and at the end of the day fandom drama is fandom drama but I'd be lying if I said I'd want any of these people in my circle irl either.
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suiana · 3 days
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(yandere! seller x gn! reader) (slight nsfw? idk)
when he said he'd give you a special gift you didn't expect... whatever the hell this is.
you were expecting a free plushie or something, not... not a love letter and money! okay, the money was appreciated but the love letter? what the hell?
'I love you so much... you're so cute, I wanna bite you....'
that's not even the worst part! like, it gets worser from here! he talks about how he knows everything about you... how he would devote his entire life to you if you would just let him...
bro you didn't even know he existed before this online order.
and what's with this weird white stain at the end of the letter? it messed up his name and now you don't even know what to call him!
oh well, maybe you'll email him about it? i mean, he probably won't respond quick since it's a sunday and he's a small business owner but-
[email protected]: hi <3 i see that you are unsatisfied with our product and gift? use this new code for another free gift upon your next purchase!
okay, what the fuck.
you hadn't even sent him anything.
why the hell did he respond?
how did he know you were absolutely flabbergasted with his gift?
...was he stalking you?
you immediately turn your head, frantically looking around for any hint that he was indeed stalking you. none.
you breathe out a shaky sigh of relief before your blood runs cold again.
[email protected]: that is not very skibidi of you :(
[email protected]: are you afraid of me? please don't be...
[email protected]: btw i'm in your closet lol
you stare at the new responses, blinking slowly before deciding to turn off your phone. you then stand up, walking towards your nearest wall before smashing your head against it in hopes of ascending to the next plane.
that's right fellas! if you don't want to deal with your troubles just bash your head into a wall! haha, what do you mean there's a guy coming out of your closet? just ignore him silly!
"darling! what the hell are you doing-"
ah... you must be ascending already. there's a new voice in the room! he's even trying to pull you away? he must be an angel...
"sweetheart please! this is not very fanum tax of you!"
"i'm wallmaxxing."
"oh. in that case..."
the guy that came out of your closet joins you in smashing his head against the wall.
yes! embrace the joy of wallmaxxing together!
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wileys-russo · 21 hours
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Mary Earps, "will you marry me"..."we're already married", nightclub/party/some sort of night out
marry me II m.earps
you weren't able to go to the game because of work but you'd heard how well mary played, score checking as often as you could when your boss wasn't looking though you knew he really wouldn't mind all that much being a united supporter himself.
finally on your afternoon break you'd had a chance to call her, getting the full recap on everything including what sounded like a rocket of a goal from both maya and ella, united going up 4-0 in one of their best games of the season.
it killed you to have to cut your wife off mid story but with only a couple minutes left mary was more than understanding as you promised to meet her with the team once you finished, not thinking you'd make it in time for dinner but they had plans to go out afterwards to a karaoke bar.
"-and i promise not to sing a single abba song until you arrive beautiful!" mary promised and you could hear the grin in her voice as you softened, the two of you having met when a rather tipsy mary had mistaken you for a friend and tried to sweep you off your feet to have a dance to voulez vouz years ago.
now it was your unspoken song, always making sure to get it requested whenever you went out with friends, the two of you in your own little bubble as you'd giggle and swing one another around like the lovesick idiots you really were.
telling her you loved her and again how proud you were of yet another clean sheet under her belt you ended the call and hurried back to your desk where a large number of emails awaited you.
you were somewhat grateful for how busy your afternoon was given that it made the rest of your shift fly past, your timer going to clock out jolting you from your chair almost as you saved the doc you were working on and shut down your monitor.
collecting your things you said your goodbyes to your coworkers and headed out, wishing you'd bought a second jacket as you speed walked from the office to the tube, settling a little once you were inside and headed home.
it was the same story as you power walked from the station to the bus, and then from the bus stop to your flat you shared with your girlfriend. your new years resolution this year had been to use public transport to get to work at least twice a week.
given the business you worked for operated seven days a week and you only worked five including like today the occasional weekend it was going quite well so far, even if also like today it was that little bit harder with the weather.
by the time you let yourself inside it was nearing half past seven, and still needing a shower and some food you sent your wife a message indicating as much with a promise to keep her updated on your eta.
you melted at her reply text, following her instructions and going to the fridge where indeed she'd already cooked you dinner earlier this morning, the food just needing to be heated up.
not wanting to chance spilling food on anything you ate before you showered, putting on the highlights of the match and watching on proudly with a smile, cheering as though you didn't already know the outcome.
finishing up you rinsed and stacked your bowl and the tupperware in the dishwasher which was nearly full, tossing a tablet in and clicking it on as you thanked your wife for the meal and ducked into the shower.
by the time you showered and changed, finally looking presentable, it was nearing nine and mary had already informed around twenty minutes ago they were headed to the bar from the restaurant and she'd see you there.
ordering an uber you slipped on your shoes and grabbed a jacket, greeting the driver but otherwise remaining quiet, grateful that he picked up on that and just turned the radio on as you messaged mary you'd arrived.
thanking the uber you stepped out and joined the small line to enter the bar, grateful for the jacket around your shoulders as a sharp breeze whipped through the night air.
you frowned a little when mary hadn't texted back, but assuming she just hadn't heard her phone you'd barely stepped foot into the bar before a couple of bodies tumbled into you.
"ya made it!" you laughed as millie lifted you into the air in a tight hug and ella hugged your other side, the two having spotted you enter from the bar as they hustled you back over with them to grab a drink.
you greeted a few more of the girls and their partners as you waited, looking around for your wife but unable to spot her. "you might want to prepare yourself babe." maya warned patting your shoulder and handing you your drink as you gave her a curious look.
"dumb and dumber here have been feeding mary shots so she's...a little bit tipsy." maya smiled apologetically as you chuckled, knowing from her tone that was clearly an understatement as you followed her back to the booths where most of the team was hanging around.
"hello beautiful!" you heard her before you saw her, the taller girl crashing into you as maya hurried to grab your drink from your hand or else you'd have wound up wearing it as your wife practically tackled you down onto the lounge.
"mary! watch out ya idiot." katie laughed with a shake of her head. "hi baby, having fun?" you smiled, taking your drink back off maya and settling it down on the table as mary sat up and nodded, arm draped securely over your shoulders.
"so much fun!" she giggled and you grinned at the bright red flush across her cheeks you knew only appeared when she'd had far too much to drink. "mm i can see that, whats this i hear about shots?" you teased sipping at your own drink.
"mary!" you groaned as you barely had a mouthful before the goalkeeper had taken it from your hand and downed it, her only response being to grab your face and smash her lips to yours causing your neck to warm and wolf whistles to ring out around you.
"okay okay! down girl." you laughed pushing at her chest as she again chased your lips with a grin. "no i missed ya, c'mere." she tugged at your dress as you shook your head. "you owe me a drink earps." you warned booping her nose with a grin.
"mary watch out!" you laughed again as she practically leapt over you and made a beeline for the bar, dragging millie along with her. "no more shots for her turner i mean it!" you yelled after them as millie only winked and you sighed.
turns out, there was more shots.
a couple of hours had passed since you'd arrived and having sung three times now both with your wife or friends you were ready to call it a night, mary barely able to hold her head up.
"i'm gonna get us an uber. can you help me get her up?" you chuckled to leah and millie, millie who had sobered up scarily fast considering you'd watched her do shot after shot with your wife who was near passed out on your shoulder.
"maz, baby. come on up we get, we're gonna head home!" you shook her lightly as her eyes fluttered open and she mumbled something incomprehensible and slumped back down. nodding to millie and leah once the uber was booked the girls helped mary up who thankfully could mostly walk herself once she was.
"for earps? thank you." you checked with the uber, leah shoving mary in the back as you sat down beside her and buckled her in, thanking both girls and waving them off as they made their way back inside.
"are we on the tube?" mary lifted her head squinting her eyes with a slur making you chuckle. "no you muppet, we're in an uber." you rubbed her knee as she hummed and collapsed into you with a grunt.
thankfully the bar wasn't too far from your flat as the uber pulled up outside and you gently pushed mary to sit up, exiting the car and quickly making your way to her door.
opening it you grunted as the girl near fell out, the sudden drop at least waking her up enough to allow you to pull her out of the car, closing the door and stumbling your way up the driveway.
"come on babe, work with me here!" you groaned as she leaned her much taller body into you with a moan and a mumble of something that wasn't english, your fingers freezing and struggling with the key in the door as you finally popped it open.
"down we go!" you dropped your wife onto the sofa as she giggled and blinked a few times, sighing as you hurried to the bedroom to change.
grabbing clothes for mary you joined her again in the living room rolling your eyes as she was now properly passed out, mouth hanging open and all.
"maz, maz baby." you crouched down beside her and poked at her as she groaned and swatted you away. "come on, we need to get you changed you idiot!" you laughed, shaking her a bit harder now as she awoke and you helped her groggily sit up.
"oh hello darling." mary slurred, grabbing your hands and tugging you down to sit on her lap. "when did you get here? i missed ya." she mumbled making you laugh and shake your head, well prepared to tease her relentlessly for this tomorrow.
you helped her get dressed, ignoring the comments about buying her dinner first and her little teenage giggles as with absolutely no assistance from your wife you managed to get her changed.
"you're so so beautiful." mary smiled lazily pulling you down onto her lap again making you sigh but crack a smile. "will you marry me? i think you should marry me." the goalkeeper grinned with hooded eyes making you laugh.
"we're already married my love." you grabbed her hand and held up your own, the taller girl squinting at the rings which sat on them. "oh lovely! tick that off the list then." she ticked mid air as you rolled your eyes.
"come on you big dope, time to go to bed with your wife."
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angelltheninth · 2 days
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Can I et uh... can I get one "leaning against the other one in close spaces" and with... separate reactions from Thoma, Neuvillette ad Zhongli?
Am I a coffee shop? I suppose I can get you your order. That will be, one like and one reblog please.
Pairing: Thoma, Neuvillette, Zhongli x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, teasing, forced proximity, kissing, grinding, tail shenanigans, body warmth
A/N: I would love to be stuck with them. There's so much to talk about.
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2. Leaning against the other in close spaces
Thoma calms you down first and foremost. There are many people in the Kamisato household, someone is sure to find you eventually. He would give you some space but unfortunately he can't and under this light you can just about make out his cheeks redden because he can feel all of you pressed against him.
This would be a perfect opportunity for a little make out session, unfortunately your boyfriend is doing his best to try and find a way out of here first. Kisses wouldn't motivate him like they usually do, they would make him want to stay in here longer.
Neuvillette thinks this could be some type of a prank, already getting ready to punish who ever locked you in here. He could use his powers to ram through the door but that would only draw more attention to this situation, and he would very much like to avoid being seen in such a compromising position at work.
As his nerves increase you feel his tail wrap around your leg, the touch sending shivers up your spine. You didn't mean to clench your thighs on it but you did, which did indeed lead to the two of you in a compromising position, with him pressing you against the wall as he kisses down your unbuttoned shirt.
Zhongli knocks on the locked door, baffled how it could have closed so suddenly and so tightly behind you. You on the other hand find the whole thing a little amusing, asking if he wants to get away from his wife so badly, which he if course doesn't.
After some time has passed his body begins to grow hotter, the small and enclosed space combined with your own warm body making it very hard for him to keep himself under control. He is well aware that this is his fault and asks for you to distract him somehow, mildly suspecting that you would kiss him in response, therefore not helping the situation at all.
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frostbitebakery · 3 days
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LOUD.
a Jedi Shadow!Obi-Wan AU
Introspection fucking sucks, according to Commander Fox.
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The thing about him is, he’s been made out to be a bastard and ever since their batch found their calling or whatever he’s embraced that role.
Every batch needed someone who didn’t secretly want to be cuddled, who pushed others away so he could keep track of the big picture.
Cody had competed for the role for a while. As did Wolffe.
For Cody, his heart, big and fragile once you got to know him, got in the way in the end. He sees the whole picture, craves it so he won’t go crazy from the losses. But he believes in people and their goodness.
Fox doesn’t.
Wolffe made the mistake of getting the galaxy’s best General. General Koon shits rainbows and glitter, from what Fox has been forced to listen to.
Fox has… the Chancellor.
He takes a swig of water and wishes it were something stronger. But Quin is on the other side of Fox’s desk, reading glasses ever so slowly slipping down his nose while he’s crunching and tracking the numbers to prove the Chancellor is, indeed, siphoning credits off the Republic to giftwrap them for the Seppies.
He takes another swig.
Wouldn’t surprise him if Palpatine turned out to be the villain of the whole story.
Brought Fox to drink with the kind attitude, the cruelty so expertly hidden from first glance, cushioned in false promises and support.
Hadn’t been pretty. But it had been easy. You go to the right places, people are only too willing to shell out for some drinks. Entertainment and morbid curiosity what brings a clone to their knees.
Some found the lisp he has because of the scar that ransacks through his lips and tongue endearing but most hadn’t bothered with wanting him talking.
Some wanted to inspect the changes in the Corrie armor up close and cozy.
If shit hadn’t already multiplied, Organa came flouncing into the Guard offices every two weeks with a new design like they were his little dress-up dolls.
The last design, the one that stayed, had a dummy connector installed in the backplate.
Fox hadn’t mentioned it. Had stewed over how the Guard, already isolated from the rest of the GAR, wasn’t even considered for the neural network that would make them more efficient, more deadly if activated. Treated like scum on a pedestal, overlooked and taken for granted.
Fox takes every advantage he can squeeze from that.
Every batch needs a willing loner who’s got the big picture in his head at all times and doesn’t care for the minutiae.
Fox had been comfortable in that role, really. He saw Thorn and Stone and Thire and the rest of them making friends and lovers and heartbreak, and that was the last fucking thing Fox wanted.
And then came Vos. Appearing from the shadows like a designer nightmare.
For such a short time they’ve sure gone through a lot together.
To the point Vos became Quinlan became Quin became Vos again became someone Fox clung to while fighting fucking addiction and the realization that he is stupid enough to become addicted.
No matter what Quin had said, Fox was supposed to be the pinnacle of cloning and artificially creating the perfect soldier. Addiction is a weakness and fault.
Fox almost did something extremely stupid over that one.
Turns out it’s all part of the sentient experience.
Fucking sucks.
Quin had laughed at that, ugly and bruised laughter, continuing to comb his fingers over Fox’s head. “Tell me about it.”
An eloquent way to say Quin was going through withdrawal himself.
They got outside help after that.
“Hey, Depa,” Quin murmurs absently after answering his comm, pushes his glasses up.
“Quinlan, is your line still secure?”
“‘Course. Especially after Fox got his grubby little hands all over it.”
Fox shows him the middle finger of one of his grubby little hands.
“Good,” General Billaba clips out. Quin straightens up, and maybe Fox’s attention isn’t misplaced here. “Good. Commander Cody was activated by the Sith Lord and he’s bringing Obi-Wan to Coruscant.”
Activated.
Quin is silent. Blinks up at the ceiling. “Can you run that by me again?”
“Quinlan, we have reason to be believe the Chancellor is the Sith Lord.”
Hah. Fox got that one right on his bingo card, at least.
Cody got activated.
As they’ve learned, the neural network - battlefield mediation, in fancy Kamino speak - is activated by a designated Force using GAR personnel. Surprisingly, the status is even an optional display on the screens of every trooper’s vambrace. Or not so surprisingly.
Cody got activated by the Chancellor. Who is the Sith Lord the Order has been hunting.
Fox will deal with that later or never, whatever comes first.
He’s comming the Guard all across the planet, checking the weapons on his person, while General Billaba explains the situation. He appreciates her succinct manner, he’s gotta say.
“I’m on the way to detain Anakin. Mace is following the ship Commander Cody captured but we need someone to intercept them on Coruscant before he reaches Palpatine.” She halts for a brief moment. “Obi-Wan seems to believe the Commander has betrayed him when he knows about the neural link inside the clones. We are fearing the Darkness is deliberately attacking and clouding his senses.”
“I’m on my way,” Quin nods, adds with a calculating glance at Fox, “I’m not sure I have back-up.”
“Funny thing about the Alderaan design of the guard armor,” Fox comments, checking the plasma charge on his DC, and vows to give Senator fucking Organa a sliced fruit platter, “the Guard doesn’t have the connector to the neural link.”
He comms their resident medic next and orders every gundark-level tranquilizer delivered to him.
Cody got activated and is following the orders of a Sith Lord.
Stars help them.
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jyoongim · 6 hours
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Congrats on 2k. The wheel gave me 🟡 and the 2nd Prompt List. Sleeping in the same bed, as they’d often do, but one morning waking up cuddling with Alastor x Reader
prompt 2, #4 saucey
You were no stranger to being in Alastor’s bed.
You often came into his room when you couldnt sleep and needed some company, wanting to talk until you fell asleep.
Alastor enjoyed the company, you were the only person who he allowed to come into his personal space and sleep in his bed.
He thought it was cute how you would knock on his door in your comfy pjs, plopping on his bed and mindlessly chatting until your eyes closed.
You were snoring softly, wrapped in his bed. Alastor had tucked you in and finally changed to get some shut eye. His eyes roamed over your sleeping face, taking in how your hair framed your face, how your pouty lips parted for air, and the slight scrunch of your nose as you dreamed.
If he was honest with himself, Alastor loved when you sought him out late at night, coming to him when you needed to sleep.
It became a routine he fairly enjoyed.
You tried to remain respectful of his space, not wanting him to find a reason to not let you revel in his soft sheets.
He tucked a stray hair behind your ear and closed his eyes for the night.
So warm.
You felt yourself waking up as the sunlight peeked through the curtains.
You yawned and snuggled deeper into the source of the warmth.
A soft chuckle met your ear as arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you close. Your eyes flew open and slowly assessed where you were.
The soft chirping of crickets and the smell of grass alerted you that you were indeed not your YOUR room.
”good morning dear” a soft raspy voice said, making you look up.
Alastor smiled as your body tensed.
You were not on your side of the bed, instead you were on HIS side and cuddled up against him, quite literally almost on top of the demon.
You blushed “g-good morning Al” you went to move, but he kept you against him.
You looked at him questioningly and the demon just smiled as he relaxed into the bed.
”Let’s just stay like this for a while” you relaxed and smiled as your cheek rested on his chest.
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Okay so this whole chapter (97) of Spy x Family is adorable and amazing and Henderson keeps being one of the best characters in the manga...
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But finding out that Henderson hates resorting to violence and sees it as both a last resort to protect those he sees as needing protecting but also something to be ashamed of makes the punch he throws durring the forgers interview even better!!!!!
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ELEGANT INDEED SIR!!!
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demidokuriya · 3 days
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Maybe it's just my speculation, but it seems to me that AFO has a soft spot for a certain type of person.
That moment when Mineta talks AFO out of stealing Tokoyami's quirk always struck me as very strange. AFO really had no reason to pass up the opportunity to steal a powerful quirk, but he looked into Mineta's tear-stained eyes, while also remembering Jirou's tear-stained face, and suddenly changed his mind. We don't know what AFO was thinking at that moment. All we see is a meaningful "…", after which he leaves, because "every precious second counts now".
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Although, to be honest, it seems to me that this whole situation looked like he was looking for an excuse for himself not to steal Tokoyami's quirk. He pretended that he just didn't have time to get a quirk, but I think that's bullshit. AFO is definitely fast enough to steal multiple people's Quirks in a matter of seconds. He had already done something similar when Eri's quirk first started affecting him.
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He definitely could have taken Tokoyami's quirk, but he decided not to.
I suspect that the students reminded him of Yoichi when he was still a child: a weakling with tear-stained eyes. The reminder of his brother made him feel uncomfortable, so he hurried away.
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Maybe this weakness for people who remind him of Yoichi will play a role in the near future. After all, Izuku has a lot in common with Yoichi: Izuku is small and weak/worthless (according to AFO), but more importantly, Izuku is very stubborn and he is hopelessly kind, just like Yoichi. Izuku, like Yoichi, is a gentle person, but he has strong moral principles that he will stand up for if he has to. They have similar personalities, and I think Izuku is really very similar to little Yoichi.
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I don't expect AFO to get redemption or anything like that. Unlike Tomura, who was manipulated from his birth, AFO committed evil knowingly and deliberately. AFO is the real villain and after everything he's done, he doesn't deserve to be forgiven. However, I believe that until AFO accepts his brother's death and admits that he regrets the way he treated him, he will not leave Japan alone. Even now that AFO has accepted that Yoichi's death has left a hole in his soul, he still views his brother's death as a tool for achieving power. "It is tragedy that makes people stronger" is what he said.
But at the same time, AFO spent nearly a century trying to bring back his dead brother, only to lose him again, this time perhaps for good. Regardless of what AFO says, this is indeed a major blow to him. And as long as this wound bleeds, he will be a threat to heroic society. Someone needs to help him heal this wound so he can leave.
I'm guessing that Yoichi might return at some point to talk to his brother one last time, but I'm not sure how that could happen considering Eri's quirk failed to return OFA to Izuku.
Even if Yoichi doesn't end up coming back, I think Izuku will still make an attempt to talk to AFO to help him. Whether this attempt will be successful or not.
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timkontheunsure · 2 days
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Stolas' new robe
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ok am I crazy or did Stolas chose a pattern than looks alot like Blitz family crest to wear?
Edit: it looks exactly like his tattoo when he was a kiddo
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Did he add the horns and small dot after the accident?
Now wondering if Stolas' robe is Blitz family circus merch
Edit 2: last we heard the all imp circus was disbanded (newspaper from Oops, the blurb about Fizz)
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(sorry for it being a bit fuzzy on the wider shot)
So if the robe is indeed Blitz's family merchandise Stolas would have had to track that down as a collector.
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ashersanity · 1 day
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— “IT’S ALL IN THE FAMILY.”
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— summary. because you — you stupid little fuck, should have known better than to assume the worst out of this sick family you’ve been unwillingly forced into from your parents unfaithful divorce. well, guess what? you were fucking right, and now — you only have yourself to blame, baby brother.
— content warning! incest, step-cest, dub-con at best, non-con at worst, brief mentions of bullying and violence, alcohol intoxication, manipulation, big brother whitney being a creep, whiny little sister kylar, daddy bailey being bailey, loser male reader, semi-forced blow job, cream pie, shit writing, no editing, no nothing and shittier plot with two disconnected scenes, went a little overboard with kylar. a little.
— word count? wait, you guys count the fucking words and don’t raw dog it in the notes app? like, real long, I guess. I mean, fucking long.
— asher’s note. “I did it purely for the sister fucking. @princesstokyomoon kept encouraging the filthy thoughts so I had to churn something out. something filthy — and I mean fucking disgusting shit, y’know?”
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Divorces papers hastily signed away, the ink dotted onto the lines promising that this was indeed reality along with leathered suitcases packed to the brim. Family problems never were easy, much less when it had all happened far too quickly. To your parents separating, the familiar grip of your mother’s hand stringing you far away from the house you had grew up in, it all seemed like one bad dream. Unfortunately it wasn’t, no. This was the harsh reality of things, hands clasped on your shoulders as you were forced to introduce yourself to the man she had vowed to marry and the children he bore.
Fuck, if only your mother hadn’t remarried.
“This is stupid.” You muttered beneath your breath to which your mother, sharp as ever had somehow heard.
“Oh please, this is necessary. Unless you wish for us to keep on living in that cramped apartment? I am only doing what is needed for us to survive.” She sharply retorted back, not leaving much room to argue with as it was the truth. Your lives had been much more difficult since the divorce, selfish father that took everything else with him and went away to god-knows-where, probably off to spend it all in one go at the sleazy brothel in town. Filthy bitch.
Yes, it had been hard, but if you had been given one more year, finished school for real, graduated and got a job — Perhaps then, you would’ve been able to provide for the two of you and—
“Why don’t you introduce yourself, dear?”
Breaking out of your reverie, you had faintly registered then that you had arrived into this overly large establishment your mom referred to as your new home. Standing before you was probably the man she had fussed about so much during the uneventful drive. Dark, slicked back hair and stern eyes that dragged over your lips down to the curve of your throat, almost as if to criticize. His outstretched arm and hand stuck out waiting, that was probably for yours to shake which you reluctantly did.
“It’s nice to meet you, sir..?” You uttered coolly, enduring the firm grasp he had on your fingers till he finally was the first to pull away.
“Bailey.”
“Bailey.” You repeated back the unfamiliar name as if to slowly get used to it, knowing you wouldn’t.
“Whitney, Kylar, come down here and properly greet your brother.”
One boy — you assumed to be Whitney, a little older than you, stood at the top of the oaky staircase, perched over the banister. Ruffled blonde hair and sharp blue eyes hidden behind his fringe, eyeing you with disinterest as he made his way down the creaking steps and over to you.
“Nice to meet you.” He grinned, taking ahold of your hand in his with what was evidently a faux smile, one that didn’t quite reach his mean eyes that matched his father, a lingering streak of maliciousness in them. Even his grip, barely restrained in its force, threatened to crush your hand before ultimately letting go.
“You too.” Forcing a smile back, both of you knew then, the stifling tension that brewed in the air — Neither of you were going to get along here.
“Hey freak, its your turn.”
Another, you had barely noticed, a smaller girl scuffling about in the background, anxiously fiddling with the ends of her oversized sleeves, skittish green eyes purposefully avoiding your gaze whenever you so much as glanced her way. That must be the only daughter, Kylar. Cute thing she was, though your mind couldn’t allow yourself to continue that stray thought any further considering the implications that’d involve after meeting your soon-to-be-step-sister. Fucking get your mind straight, will you?
“P-Pleasure to meet you..” In contrast to her brother’s confident strides, she shuffled towards you before clasping your soft palms together in a hold, weakly shaking it.
“..Pleasure is all mine.” You replied, matching her weirdly formal way of speaking.
Well, she didn’t seem so bad compared to the rest.
The introduction didn’t last very long, lacking any real warmth usually found between two shared families merging together as one. It felt more stiff than anything though you couldn’t spare the thought to think it any further, an ushered murmur said to make yourself at home.
As you made your way over to your new room, hauling your hefty luggage up the wooden stairs, something within the depths of your guts stirred from the shared eyes that bore into the shape of your back, intently observing your every move.
The walls here felt unbearably bare.
Like the people that lived in it.
Ironically enough, your new room was much bigger than your older one, leaving little room to complain as you did when your mother had announced you’d be moving into a new place. All the reasons, no matter how good had earned nothing but a gentle shake of her head, dead set on her decision to drag you along. And to say you hadn’t even told Robin you’d be moving away, best friends since childhood that shared everything between the two, except for this apparently. Imagining his freckled face, worry etched across his features had you wanting to go back to the town you knew, knowing you couldn’t.
Sighing lowly, you sat down onto your bed, hearing the slightest crinkle beneath your weight as you felt an uncomfortable, sharp lump underneath it. That.. Reaching for the covers, you threw aside the thick blankets that covered the suspicious looking lump, revealing fresh packets of condoms haphazardly scattered across the sheets and an old, raunchy magazine displaying a cute-looking school boy getting brutally fucked against the lockers by his own bully.
Heat burned your face at the lewd sight, quickly shoving your little “gift” under your pillow so you couldn’t spare another glance at it. Fucking bastards and their sick jokes, “gifting” you shit like that.
You weren’t like them. Fucking perverts.
Were you?
Whitney was the first to change that.
From the first time he laid his eyes on you, you knew then what he thought of you, distaste apparent over his features, the slight curve of his upper lip curled into a snarl. It was obvious, your step-brother didn’t like you. Shit, maybe hate would be a more appropriate word for the things he’d do. Whitney had made it clear from the get-go, the empty names you’d call each other were utterly meaningless, rarely slipping past his own lips. ‘Little brother’. Fuck, you were a pain in his side more than anything else, dropping by unannounced into his life just like that simply because your shitty mother happened to divorce, meeting his dead beat father who then strung up with yours.
The blonde didn’t attempt to hide his obvious disapproval of your presence in his house, blatantly knocking his shoulder into yours whenever he passed by, mouth cruelly drawn into a snide grin as you toppled down to the cold, hard, wooden floor with a dull thud. The bullying didn’t stop there either, often encountering the delinquent in the school hallways, surrounded by his usual cronies that stuck to his side like a bunch of desperate, panting puppies, eager for his approval. They simply wouldn’t leave you alone, went through your damn locker too, ransacking everything that sat in there before carelessly throwing aside the remnants into a nearby trash bin, left to fend for yourself.
Weak, useless. That’s what you were to him, and nothing else. Soon enough, he’d get rid of you, have you snap and run away, it was merely a matter of time.
Well, that was the initial plan he had made up in his mind — Too fucking bad for the poor bully that life didn’t go always as planned, not when he caught you fresh out of the shower, worn towel snugly tucked around yours hips, a bit lower and he’d catch a glimpse of your— Fucking snap out of it, Whitney! The fresh droplets of water that’d trickle down the curve of your back, cascading over the smooth surface before gently dripping onto the fuzzy carpet below. Fuck. Didn’t help that he was staring a tad bit too hard, forcing himself to tear his gaze away from your bare form shamelessly displayed before him. You were doing this on purpose, weren’t you? Tryna get him all distracted, fill his thoughts with nothing but your thighs sticky with his cum, your lips lightly parted to obediently suck on his fat cock, lapping away at the beads of pre-cum that trickled over the curved length.
Knew he had cracked the second his hand had reached for his cock, fisting his dick for all it was worth, hem of his shirt roughly held between his teeth as he jerked himself stupid to the thought of you. His annoying little brother, fucking bitch, oblivious to the effects you had on him whenever he came with a stifled curse, several strings of cum that’d messily splatter across the curve of his toned stomach and his cotton sheets, staining it.
You, of course, lay ignorant to his frequent glances trailing over your frame, mistaking it for the hostility he had shown you over the past few weeks. You were partially right, except this time it was out of frustrated lust, cock stirring beneath his ripped jeans at the mere sight of his younger sibling now. God, not even the dumb whores that’d sloppily suck him off in the grimy bathroom stalls between classes did it for him anymore, eyes shut in a haze to imagine it was your mouth instead wrapped around the tip of his cock.
Dumb slut. Dumb fucking slut you were, didn’t know what he had in store for you. Take it as payback from having infested his mind with thoughts of you that stray to other thoughts and to other.. that’d eventually end in the same scenario, fucking your slutty mouth wide open.
Yeah.. Actually having you choke down on his cock didn’t sound half-bad now that he thought about it.
So why not make it happen?
It had been a mistake then to accept his offer over drinks, get to know each other better, he had cheerfully claimed with a friendly arm wrapped around your shoulder. Bullshit. Think he gave a shit about that? The only ache in his mind had gone straight down to his slowly hardening cock underneath his grey sweats as his plan was brought into motion, insistently pouring more and more of his friends stolen bottle into your cup until you had lost track of the exact number. Prideful as ever, you had gulped it all down, unrelenting despite the nausea that had crept in your guts and the dizzying blur of your vision.
A hint of a rosy flush had started to spread throughout your skin, lightly dusting your cheeks with half-lidded eyes intently gazing back at your older brother’s slouched form atop the cushioned couch. The dribbling liquid sloshed lazily in the glassy bottle that threatened to spill from your weakened grasp on it. TV faintly flickering in the background, playing some outdated show that had since long been forgotten by the two of you, leaving the remote abandoned on the coffee table.
“Cmon, don’t be such a baby.” Whitney would taunt whenever you hesitated in your sluggish movements, silently observing the rhythmic bobbing of your throat as you took quick shots from your half-full glass. Lightweight, he mused in his mind.
“I’m not a baby.” You retorted back with that fucking cute pouty expression he adored.
Fuck. That’s the look. That goddamn look of yours he was waiting for. Nothing better than some arrogant slut all fucked up, practically begging to be taken on his own fucking couch.
“Yeah, sure. Whatever you say.”
“Whitney?” Shit, the way you’d call his name all whiny too, slipping past your own lips. Had his cock twitch like fucking hell, painfully aching between his spread legs.
“Hm? What is it?”
“Why are you so mean to me all the time?? What did I ever.. What did I ever do to you?? I—I just don’t get it.” You hiccuped pathetically, stumbling over your own words, already half-drunk from the fizzling alcohol in your system.
Ah, so you didn’t seem to get it at all yet, did you?
How cute.
“‘Cuz I wanna fuck your noisy mouth, that’s why.”
“..What?”
Blinking back at him, you didn’t even get the chance to register or mutter out another word before he was upon you. Knees firmly planted to each side, increasingly aware of his encompassing frame that towered overs yours as his clothed crotch faced your drunken expression. If it had been any other time, perhaps the blonde would’ve paused then to greedily drink in the sight before him, but this was Whitney after all and he never liked to waste time on silly notions like foreplay, preferring the rougher options that came along with it.
So, fuck it all, right?
With practiced ease, he hurriedly shucked down the elastic waistband of his grey sweats past his hips, hefty cock confidently springing free from the constricting confines of the cotton fabric as it lightly smacked against the curve of his bare stomach. Fuck, you haven’t had the slightest idea how long he had waited for this. Merely a matter of a few weeks for you, though for him, your older brother was dying to sink his dick in that whorish mouth of yours. Looked like you’ve never taken a real cock either, snugly shoved down to the hilt of your inexperienced throat that he’d train till it became a sixth sense to you, gratefully swallowing down his salty cum.
Calloused fingertips tenderly dragged along the swollen flesh of your bottom lip, bloodied cut reopening from the time the bully had split your face open on his fists for the whole school to see in the busied courtyard on a particularly rainy day. Licked his knuckles clean too after that rough beating you took, savouring the heady taste of the crimson mess you left behind, groaning all the while. Had him stupidly hard for the rest of the day, itching to relieve some tension once he got back home. Great times, really.
Now would’ve been the time then, probably— to sputter out your firm opposition over this, resist somewhat. Maybe kick the motherfucker in the balls, satisfyingly watch him writhe on the floor in agony before scrambling up the ancient staircase to hysterically yell about how you nearly got raped by your aforementioned step-brother, to your dozing mother. Christ, that would’ve been the sane decision to do then yet, the bubbling drinks coursing through your veins had thoroughly taken its effect on you, blood rushing down lower to the wrong region, the sinking realization nearly making you bolt upright.
Fucking fuck, you were hard.
And Whitney hadn’t failed to notice.
“Shit, are you getting hard from this?” The delinquent snickered hoarsely to himself, making a show to lightly tap at the growing bulge underneath your own jeans, all too visible despite the rough fabric that covered it. “Should’ve known you’d be into it. Your body speaks for itself, y’know. You want this, you cock whore craving slut.”
No, no. This was all wrong. Must’ve been. You liked girls, didn’t you? Squishy cunts and fat tits you could easily slip your cock into — god. Didn’t like guys and if you did, your step-brother who treated you like nothing but shit would’ve been last on the fucking list.
But you secretly do like being used this way, don’t you? Baby brother.
“I’m n-not fucking—“ Attempting to deny the harsh statement, you cut yourself off from the sudden intruding tip eagerly pressed against your lips, flushed cock head leaking thickly and smearing sticky pre-cum all over.
It wasn’t an order nor anything else that hung heavily in the air, a simple gesture, a subtle thrust of his hips that had his actions speak louder than any words would’ve been capable of. Either you do it or not, the delinquent couldn’t have cared less regardless, always used to getting what he wants and by god, if he wasn’t going to fucking get this. Because the signals alarmingly ringing through your head felt faint in the face of this, shakily inhaling the musky scent of your big brother’s throbbing cock subtly twitching in response to your feathered breaths against it, dribbling out more translucent pre-cum that melded with the scarlet stain of your bloodied lips.
Out of your damn mind — That’s what you were. To even properly consider the implication at hand here. Yet your lips won’t stop from parting, from sticking your pink tongue out, clumsily imitating the gestures of those submissive girls in the cheap porns you’d watch underneath your thin covers late at night, shamefully enough. Always thought you’d be on the receiving end of that one day, dutifully patting at the soft hair slotted between your thighs however here you were, shyly pawing at Whitney’s naked hips instead to steady yourself.
All your fault, all your damn fault so shut up and take it, alright? Shouldn’t have led him on like that, now you’re only reaping what you sow, slut.
A delighted sigh softly escaped from the blonde as you finally gave his dick some much needed attention, experimentally running the flat of your tongue along his leaking slit, coaxing out more dribbling fat globs of pre-cum before slowly and carefully taking his full girth in the warm depths of your tight, wet mouth. “Ah— Fuck. Yeah, that’s good.” No way can he hide the barely restrained, high-pitched, almost needy whimper that threatens to slither past him as you so prettily suck him down to the base, slobbering all over his throbbing balls that has him huffing out a cursed moan of satisfaction, eyes rolling back. “F-Fuckin’— god.” Can’t help the sheer guttural groan that slips out from how tightly his baby brother’s virgin lips sweetly glide around him, the uncertainty in your movements making it all the more endearing as you struggle to take him all in, saliva dripping over your chin to land in varying wet dots on the cushioned pillows. Looking so damn pretty like this with a mouthful of cock, your big brother’s pulsing cock specifically. So don’t blame him then when his hips automatically snap back, slender fingers instinctively reaching for the back of your head to entangle themselves through the soft strands of your hair, ruffling it.
Felt more like he was plainly fucking your mouth than you were sucking him off, sharp, punishing thrusts meeting your open mouthed lips to drive himself deeper in that warm throat that reflexively tightened around his length whenever he hit a particularly sensitive spot — drawing another string of adorable, strangled whimpers from you. “Shit, you sure this your first time? You’ve got the mouth of a — hah, fuckin’ filthy glory hole.” Heat prickling up the nape of your neck at the direct statement uttered, the brief realization of your inexperience being taken away like this, from a blowjob. On the giving end. A first, that will mostly likely not be the only first after this, not when you’re unconsciously getting off to the thought for more in store despite your haze filled brain begging you to reason. Ah, fuck. He’s gone and got you stupidly cock drunk now, didn’t he? The bastard. Slurred mutterings tumbling out above you, almost hasty in how he handles you, wanting to truly savor this never-ending moment when his body can’t stop on its own, too eager to be fulfilled of this yearning pleasure he sought out from you firstly. Thankful for your lack of gag reflex that somehow has you forcefully endure the ruthless slam of his hips, struggling grip straining onto his thighs to brace yourself, promising to leave a fresh set of bruising marks on the tanned flesh.
“Gon’ be my lil’ cockwhore, huh? My fuckin’ slut. Goin’ to be so good for— fuck, big brother, yeah?” If treating you so obscenely like this grants him the privilege to have you beneath him, so stupidly on your knees then, fuck, is it goddamn worth it. Every multicoloured bruise splotched along the length of your legs to your elbows, inflicted from his unfortunate beatings took on at every turn. The cold indifference muddled across your features warping to an earnest scowl from simply acknowledging his presence alone, precisely what he wants. To finally recognize your older brother, the churning fear instilling within you, forced to submit to him and worship him rightfully so.
It’ll be more than that though, the sick realization dawning upon him of this opportunity handed to him on a silver plater, free of his taking, of course. Not some other replaceable slut he can find anywhere else by chance, but one forcefully bound to him whether they like it or not since what can you possibly do? Come running with tears in your eyes to your mommy about what your big, mean, older brother did to you? His father will certainly not be one to help you for that matter, that’s for damn sure. Who the hell will believe you then? No one. Fucking nobody. Inadvertently handing him free range to do whatever he so pleases with you, whenever, where the fuck ever. Oh, but it won’t only stop there, y’know. Ruining you fully for the sake of his own selfish pleasure, corrupt that naive view of yours that has you blush bashfully at a bunch of lewd illustrations plastered onto the printed pages. Soon enough, the majority of your days will be lazily spent in his room, leaking cock dribbling profusely from the kitten licks you’ll so cutely give him then while he absentmindedly scrolls on his phone, grinning proudly as you inevitably beg for more of him. And shit, Whitney isn’t one to disappoint either — he’ll have you rightfully rewarded for such behaviour, in public to be exact. Clip a nice, leathered collar around your neck along with a leash too, tug at it a bit to show off his newfound pet, his loyal little brother that sloppily sucks him off and happily sinks onto his hefty cock at a mere snap of his fingers. Drives him fuckin’ crazy merely thinking about it.
That’s right, suck on your big brother’s fat cock to selfishly earn his twisted love, his blind adoration and protection of your being. His pet. His slut. His beloved baby brother. His now blood, flesh and soul tainted thoroughly by him himself. Personally service him on your knees like the whore that he knows you are. Fucking get on your knees and earn it.
All too soon, despite wanting to stretch this further solely to ingrain the addictive noises of your stifled whimpers and drooling mouth inside his perverted mind, visibly struggling to take him all in as he shamelessly used your throat like some sort of flesh light stretched to the hilt — He can feel himself reach the brink of his limit, confident hips stuttering in their steady thrusts to greedily bury the tip of his quivering cock into the back of your throat one last time. “F-Fuck. Stay like that — just fucking stay like that.” He hissed sharply between strained curses, head thrown back like some cheap virgin whore who’s just received his first ever mind blowing blow job. The familiar overwhelming heat curling in the curve of his belly, like a coiling string on the verge of popping. Balls tightening in need, pulsing spurts of his fat load squirting out of the head of his cock to messily splatter across the surface of your pretty fucking face, ruining you for his own amusement.
Should’ve busted his load down your throat just to hungrily watch you swallow it down, though he supposes that the cum stained look adorning your pretty face is a sight to behold on its own, taking a good minute to appreciate the mess before him.
A blank, pristine canvas that he had helped ruin and stain with the filth of his very own actions.
It suits you, really.
“That’s a — hah, good boy.” Whitney heaved roughly between ragged breaths, the uncharacteristically gentle praise laced in his tone differing from his usually sadistic nature. If it weren’t for the sticky mess that obscured your vision along with the heat of his sweating palm placed flat across your forehead, you’d notice the strange fond, warmth that had settled into his softening gaze, a sort of reverence in of itself. “My good fucking boy.”
“So good for big brother, aren’t you?” He smirks knowingly at your hitched gasps of breaths, struggling so stupidly to form back a snarky insult as per usual.
Ah, he gets it now — really fucking gets it, glazed over eyes settling onto your evidently hard, twitching cock still tented pitifully against the front of your jeans, frantically humping at the air like some sort of rabid, horny and untrained puppy in heat, tongue lolling out. Aw, so fuckin’ cute when you’re cock drunk and needy for big brother. Makes him wanna do it all over again.
For that, he should be properly training you then.
“Whitney— fuckin’ cmon, please.” Whining so pathetically in a way that sends a jolt straight down through his spent cock, immediately standing up to attention once more. You’re really asking for it, fuck.
So damn cute, but so impatient too. Maybe he should fuck your virgin ass next, stuff it full of his cum and see what happens to that bratty mouth of yours then. Shut you up a bit.
“Yeah, yeah. I got it. Just— keep still for me.”
Well, can’t be having his little new pet go frustratingly neglected like that, can he?
Kylar, your precious little sister, all too eager to be the first, but the second to sink her mark into you. Convince you a bit more.
Needy as she was, she wasn’t as bad as the rest that inhabited this sick place you reluctantly called home, a flicker of warmth among the distant coldness that resided in this house. Much unlike her brother, the dark haired girl didn’t seem to dislike you in the slightest, often shooting you the smallest of smiles whenever you two briefly locked eyes at the dinner table or in the shared hallways by mere coincidence.
‘Course, she did have her questionable moments whenever you caught her rifling through your drawers, namely the ones where your underwear lay neatly folded in the cubicle space. Promptly muttering out an unbelievable excuse as to why she needed your boxers before bolting past your stunned self, red in the face. Or that time she had decided to curl up onto your bed, lovingly burying her nose into the warm, silken sheets that you slept in, relishing in that sweet scent of yours she’d catch a whiff of as you drew closer next to her at the table.
..Yeah, she certainly had unresolved issues, but it beat the constant poking fun at that Whitney would do. The rough shoving into the metallic lockers that’d clank heavily from your weight, the shared snickering that came along with it and the forced blow jobs that you had somehow eased into over time despite yourself. Fuck, why were you even thinking of that asshole?
Freak or not, she didn’t harbour any of the senseless cruelty this town had to selflessly offer and that was good enough. Enough so that you had found yourself increasingly spending more and more of your time with Kylar whenever you weren’t forcibly dragged along to some shoddy place your big brother roped you into, leaving the loner to her own whims for the day.
So it was no surprise then when the two of you grew closer, a little more than you had expected so to be the one sat onto her worn out bed, her hideaway — she’d call it, a moment of respite from the constant teasing she had to go through from her older brother. A means of escape, perhaps? And for you, it was no different either, all the same. Gladly listening to her overexcited rambling about this and that, about the fine mangas she had newly bought at the local, dusty library, the half priced anime figurines she had found on display beyond the glassy windows that separated them — matching pearly bracelets made of shiny gems and rocks carefully picked at the park she’d sow together to gleefully tuck around your wrist, whining sorrowfully at her own being too loose for her delicate wrists. Cute. Your little sister was real fucking cute, more so than you’d like to admit at times.
So much so you couldn’t ignore the growing knots in the pit of your stomach whenever your knees fortuitously bumped against each other, a sign — a silent, repetitive warning of your shared proximity that was crossing past the treacherous line of two mere siblings. Yeah. Okay. So you found her cute, so what? Big fucking deal. Plenty of guys found a girl cute, didn’t mean jack shit, didn’t mean they wanted to fuck her till she clenched pathetically around them, sniffling miserably at being fucked brutally by their kind, soft-spoken big brother they naively put their trust into. Right, that’s what you were. Nothing more. A responsible big brother she could certainly put her faith into since her other piece of shit brother couldn’t bother with that shitty role, something you’d curse him for on the daily. One she could seek out at a moment’s notice, spend time with to her heart’s content like a normal, unsuspecting relationship between siblings should be.
Not some perverted creep of a big brother who’d steal periodic glances her way, instinctively trailing down to the soft, plump and pink flesh of her parted lips, glistening sinfully from the wetness of her saliva — a habit she unconsciously did despite claiming not to. Gulping thickly, you hadn’t registered how her seamless chatter had ceased to a stop, deafening silence befalling upon the both of you as you stared at each other like some sort of stiff actors awaiting for the next act on stage. Wait, were you staring? Fuck, you were — and she hadn’t failed to notice by the looks of it, blooming flush adorning her pretty, pale cheeks you’d like to press gentle, reassuring kisses to, squeeze under the weight of your palm. Maybe have her spill a few stray droplets of tears across the rosy surface while you’re at it, make her cry the same way Whitney did.
Oh, you’re such a fucking bastard for this one.
“W-What is it? Do I have something on my face?” Her sudden squeak had you stilling in your tracks, twisting the spread sheets without meaning to from the timid pitch of her shrill voice. Look at her, trying to hide behind her torn sleeves in an attempt to draw attention away from her bashful blush, becoming a fidgeting mess under your gaze.
Fuck, no. It was more than that, Kylar. It was the pout of your lips that you wore, the black strands of hair that frames your face so beautifully, the exposed sliver of skin of your thighs from that short skirt you slipped on. It was all you, but dammit all — fuck.
“Hm? No, it’s nothing — really.” Liar. Drawing back to create a manageable amount of space between you both, a reminder not to act upon those disgusting urges of yours, better not to. Bad idea to be thinking with your dick, no man’s ever made a reliable decision with that one. Even so, Whitney did it with you and — nothing particularly bad happened, did it? Would it be so wrong, if you were to do the same? Selfishly grasp for what you so dangerously desire, drop meaningless hints here and there to care for her wants, such a gentler option than any other boy could ever treat your dearest little sister?
Would it?
Too lost in your endless train of thoughts, your eyes connecting with Kylar’s green own that bore with such intensity you hadn’t seen before, almost as if contemplating — no, waiting for something to happen. Though you couldn’t tell what it was, her actions were enough so to speak on their own with how she shifted considerably towards you, used mattress dipping from the creaking weight over the wooden floorboards. Ah, was she..?
“Ky—?”
Before your mind was even fully given the chance to process it, like the leap taken before the shuddering dip of a waterfall, her inexperienced, virgin lips clumsily smashed into yours, knocking the wind out of the both of you from the abrupt step taken by your little sister. Sweet. So sweet. Pink tongue tentatively swiping along the scarlet cut of your bottom lip, ushered gasps accompanied by startled squeaks as she timidly gave you what she thought was a simple kiss, but felt more like a pornographic make out session with how she so desperately shoved her tongue deeper. More. Wants more of this, more of that honeyed taste she yearned to savour, to finally enjoy while her other dumb brother so greedily took you away every time she wished to be the one at your side instead. It wasn’t fair, not fair at all! He’s so mean, so why does he get to string you along whenever he so pleases? Should be her, only be her to fill that solemn space. Only her, only her—
“W-Wait, wait— Kyl— fuck.”
As if struck by the weight of what she had just done, the loner recoiled back instantly in a fit of panic from the sheer brashness of her actions. Oh, how could she let herself so easily fall to such temptations? What if you hated her now? Or worse, were repulsed by the kiss? Wouldn’t be able to live it down then, quivering lips and bubbling tears threatening to spill freely down the length of her flushing cheeks from her overactive imagination running rampant — because she’d rather die than to have you loathe her so.
“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to— umm.. I thought that maybe you.. wanted me to—“ The girl stuttered uselessly, trailing off in an aimless direction only to shrink back in her unbecoming position. Silence only answered her in return which she took as the harsh reality of rejection, mustering up all the courage she possibly had in her lithe frame to at the very least subtly peek at the current expression painted along your face. Would it be anger? Disgust? Disappointment even? Surely if you hated it that much, you’d have plainly kicked her right off the bed by now, right? Storm out in a fit of shock and never so much as glance her way again.
The sight to greet her instead wasn’t an unwelcome one though — no, far from it actually, her gaze deliberately falling upon the blazing flush of your face down to the evident bulge straining painfully between your legs, palm nervously placed over it in a half-assed attempt to keep your dignity at bay — shit. It’s one thing to be kissed by your younger sister but to get fucking hard from it is like shameful admission on its own, a visceral reaction that could not be denied no matter what reasonable excuses may tumble from your lips. “..It’s fine. I don’t mind, actually.” You’re really no better than Whitney in that aspect, but when an opportunity presents itself, it’s only fair to mindlessly grasp for it, is it not? More worrying is the debauched idea that forms in your mind in regard to the enamoured expression worn by her wobbly lips and wide-eyed look, not-so-subtly rubbing her plush thighs together in a hint of arousal. Oh, so that’s how it is. If the sloppy kiss itself didn’t confirm it then this surely did, a surge of confidence rushing momentarily through your body at your next actions. “Like I said, it’s fine, Ky.” That fucking nickname again. Unable to stop yourself from dragging your cute little sister closer towards you till she consequently found herself comfortably placed onto your lap, blinking stupidly at the bold move done by her normally gloomy, big brother. Silly girl.
“Siblings do it all the time, it’s not weird. It’s natural.” Lying through your goddamn teeth with a certain ease that even surprises you internally, but oh, is it so worth it as her viridescent eyes glimmer brightly to the whispered reassurance in your casual tone, acceptance easily slipping through. “But Whitney and I don’t—“ She starts, only for you to immediately latch onto her endless questioning with the seed having already been planted, too late to fucking back out now. “You and I are different. I’m nice to you and you’re nice to me, so it’s normal if you want to. We can do that cuz’ everyone else does it, alright? You don’t have to be shy with me about it, Ky.” Every carefully measured word to make it seem as though this was the norm, knowing fully you’d be seen as freaks and degenerates by your peers attending the nearby school. Not that they didn’t already think so with Kylar, the rumors having grown out to such an unhealthy proportion that it pestered the poor girl at every corner in the narrow hallways. Poor thing.
So isn’t it your job as her big brother to make it all go away? Make her feel better.
“Shh, just let me..” Soothing circles rhythmically rubbed in a recognizable pattern along the edges of her skirt, repeated affirmations of want so as to ease her chattering mind over the possible morality of this newfound situation. Could’ve said no if she didn’t secretly desire this, though her actions seem to say so otherwise with how she earnestly complies, willingly tucking her arms to her sides to let your hands do the rest. Good girl. So docile, like a porcelain doll, sharpening breaths noticeably deepening from the careful tugs of her short skirt, revealing the confirmation of her depraved wants as the wet patch of slick soaking through her plain, white panties is bared. Your adorable little sister isn’t so innocent as you thought, is she? Contrary to her modest choice of underwear. Getting fucking wet solely from being leered at so openly by her step brother, even going so far as to spread her soft legs for better viewing.
“See? Isn’t it frustrating to be left all worked up like this?” Agreeing nods promptly interrupted by the press of your thumb against her clothed slit, such a sweet, hitched gasp elicited from the lazy circles traced onto her swollen, twitching clit. A free view of your younger sister’s scrunched up expression morphing to one of pure, unadulterated pleasure, scarred fingertips tightly clutching at the fabric of your shirt, but that’s the least of your concerns at the moment, really. “This good?” There’s no real need to ask when you can naturally rely on the shivering of her dainty figure, breathy moans of y-yes and feels good! along with the guiding of her needy fingers, flush against her slicked heat. A flick of your thumb is all it takes to have her turn into a babbling mess, bucking her hips up to meet your cupped palm, incidentally grinding onto your aching hard-on. “S-Shit, okay. Look at you, hah — so fucking wet already.” Barely able to discern the own pitch of your voice, but who the fuck is supposed to properly maintain their composure when your little sister is so prettily begging for your cock?
Effortlessly peeling away at the sticky fabric of her cotton panties, slipping it down the length of her legs to thoughtlessly throw away onto the wooden floor beneath. No time to fucking think, not with how cute her cunt looks, pink and dripping with slick coating the smooth surface of her inner thighs. Ah, and she’s already impatiently fumbling with your belt too, smiling so happily once it loosens to eventually tug your own underwear down too, leaking cock eagerly springing free from its restraints. “Want it that bad, lil sis?” Fuck, does it feel wrong to even be calling her so in your current predicament, yet so damn right too. The pleading nods, urgently clinging to your frame to press against as she grinds her sopping cunt along your flushed tip, whining whenever it knocks just right up against her puffy clit, squelching from the melding fluids. “W-Want it, want it inside, please.”
“B-Big brother—“
As much as you like the high-pitched mumblings of your dearest Kylar, there’s really only so much edging you can take before promptly snapping your hips up in tandem with her own, relishing in the slippery warmth that lovingly welcomes you, stretched folds accommodating to the sheer girth of your length. “Oh, fuck — Fuck, just relax for me. You feel so.. hah, so good.” Collectively sighing in relief at the intrusion of your pulsing cock squeezed so nicely by her constricting walls, having to steel yourself from the tight suck of her cunt snugly wrapped around your tip. “You’re doing so good for me, taking me so well.” Softly hushing her breathy whines intertwined with a mix of pain and pleasure, fingertips digging harshly in the tender flesh of her hips to guide her quivering frame up and down the length of your cock. Isn’t this what she wanted after all? Such a quick learner too, steadily bouncing to match the pace you had set, your wandering hands slipping past the hem of her loose shirt to greedily palm at her perky breasts which prompts another moan to exit her parted lips. Uncaring for the increasingly noticeable squeaking of the worn mattress when your little sis is so cutely riding you, doing her very best to satisfy your immoral urges and have you mark her slicked insides with your seed.
“What a good sister.. So good, aren’t you?” Cute, pink tongue poking out, begging for another messy kiss pressed onto her swollen lips which you dutifully oblige with another muffled groan. Sloppily planting your own against hers, treasuring every shuddered gasp to swallow down and stifling her open mewls. It’s borderline disgusting how desperate you are, savouring every thick inch engulfed by the sloppy suck of her baby sister pussy, reappearing briefly only to bury yourself balls deep once more into her defiled cunt. Isn’t really your fault with how fucking tight she is, is it? Barely grasping the reality of the situation which is the very high possibility of being heard from outside her room right this moment, but fuck — you can’t slow down, not right now, not when you’re already on the verge of spilling your cum deep inside. Damn Whitney, the bastard. Damn to hell your parents, your indecisive mother and her new husband, this is heaven itself right here. “I’m close—“ You huff out in a sort of warning, though it’s more of an invitation to Kylar, an opportunity for you to shoot your thick seed in her wanting hole, practically locking her legs tight around your waist.
Anything for you after all, huh? Her beloved. Her darling. You just didn’t know it yet! And to say it came true on its own, openly enjoying the sensation of your fat cock instinctively fucking into her tight, little sister hole. So close.
“Cum inside me, please. Let’s finish together, big brother. I-I’m close too—“
And that’s all you really need, precise thrusts upwards hastily turning into erratic humps to lazily grind against her ass, wanting nothing more but to see the dumb, drooling, fucked out expression painted across her adorable face, the convulsing of her cunt stuffed full of your length when she does have her first ever orgasm. A few clumsy circles drawn over her used clit is all it takes to have her cumming, slick trickling out of her fluttering cunt to drip over the base of your cock and stain the pristine sheets beneath. “Ah— God, you’re so fucking tight.” Fuck, fuck, fuck — Shoving the hilt of your cock as deep as possible into your little sister’s stretched out hole to rightfully mark her pink insides with your seed, spurting out thick, white strings of cum while you fuck yourself deeper into her womb and downright have her experience her first ever accidental cream pie too. It’s only then when she pitifully whines for you to stop that you do eventually pause, hips drawing back to stare in awe at the dribbling globs of cum spilling out of her sore cunt. “S-Sorry.” You mutter out apologetically with a sigh, the tension easing out of your muscles once she giggles softly in response to your strained apology. “It’s okay. I-I liked it a lot too.”
“Did you?”
“Mhm, I did.” Kylar sleepily mumbles back with drowsy eyelids, the exhaustion washing both over you all at once from, well.. all the movement involved. Let’s leave it at that, actually. Plus you deserve the rest, don’t you? Wouldn’t be fair to leave your adorable sister all alone in her twin bed without her older brother’s body to warm it with too, yeah? It’s fine to lay yourself down next to her curled figure snuggling closely against yours, drape an arm over her waist to remind her of your presence close by, make her feel secure and at ease. A silent, ushered promise to clean her up later once you two awaken, affectionately pressing a single kiss atop her head one last time before sleep takes her first. It’s your role to as the big brother, after all, isn’t it?
“..Good.”
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https://www.tumblr.com/goldenboygate/748927575652515840?source=share
How about a blurb of happy tipsy/drunk Lando and reader on the boat and he's extra clingy and saying sweet funny things? Bonus points if she's caring for his bloody nose and he's looking at her with the gloomy sparkly eyes (we have all seen the pictures 👀🫣)
Note: the more content I see from this day, the more I think this is going in the books 😅
Cw: mentions a cut, blood, alcohol consumption
"Fill mine, please!", Lando asked one of the guys as he filled his own cup with some orange drink right on theme for the day.
When you said you'd join the celebrations for King's Day, Lando and Martin were the most excited for it and promised you one hell of a party indeed.
"Show me how you dance with your pretty hips! Baby, are my moves as good as yours?", Lando said as he swayed his hips from side to side, his knees helping him bounce slightly as he waved the cup around. The sunglasses didn't cover his blushed cheeks and big smile, but you were sure they were hiding your favourite pair of eyes, now probably squinty and glassy as he sang loudly.
"Yes, Lan, they're good", you shook your head as you laughed, letting him pull you closer to him so he could dance with you.
"My chest is full of love for you, baby", Lando whispered on your ear before he nipped at the skin there.
"We're out, Lando, there's other people here", you gasped even though you were enjoying his touches a little too much. Drunk Lando often meant an even clingier boyfriend.
"I don't care, I'm full of love for you - I love you!", he stated kissing your lips and everywhere on your face he could.
You turned around for a couple of minutes, approaching the edge so you could get a little bit of air and look at how everyone else was celebrating the day until you heard a gasp followed by Martin calling your name.
"What?", you asked before seeing Lando and his bloody nose, "Oh my word", you whispered as you approached him.
"We clicked the glasses and then this happened", Martin explained as you took a good look at the injury.
Even though it seemed like a little nick on the skin from the glass, it was bleeding a good amount, "Here's the first aid kit", someone said as they handed it to you.
"Does it hurt a lot, love?", you asked Lando as you rummaged through the bag to figure out what you had and what you could do with it.
"It's okay", he mumbled.
"Hold this, Lando, I need to find something to disinfect- we're in a boat full of alcohol drinks but medical grade stuff would be better I guess", you mumbled the last part, trying to read the label of the bottle and smelling them.
Once you look up after finding the rubbing alcohol and some cotton buds and pads, you see the gauze wrapped around his head, "like this, right, lovie?", Lando smiled, a genuine tinge of hope in his voice at helping you help him.
"Not quite", you laughed. You felt bad for doing so while he was clearly hurt despite not hearing many complaints from him.
"Let me put some steri strips - stay still, Lan, I need to see this upclose", you stated after cleaning the cut, applying the strips in a cross since you could see the skin was pulling both ways.
"Did you do it like an X? I felt that", Lando spoke, "X marks the spot for the treasure, doesn't it? I'm your treasure!", he cheered, "Taylor Swift says that it marks the spot where we fell apart, but we never fall apart baby, we're forever".
"You are, Lan, my biggest treasure", you smiled, "can you stay still for a bit longer though, please?", you asked gently still.
Lando complied with your request, staying still as you did your best to make sure the dressing was helping or at least not making the situation worse, "Is this your way of telling me you want me to get a rhinoplasty? Funny, it has rhino in it", he giggled before he attempted to make an elephant noise.
"No, baby, I love your nose just the way it is", you smiled, kissing the tip of his nose when you were happy with the improvised wound dressing, "there, all done! You even get a magic kiss for it to heal faster!".
"You're so pretty, you're really my girlfriend? Ah! Would you look at that, Martin? She's my girlfriend - I'm one lucky dude", Lando beamed at his friend before he kissed your lips, letting you sit on the edge of the boat, "you can sit there, baby, it's got railing to protect you from falling in the water - it's looks mucky", he made a disgusted face.
You sat there, glad to be able to experience these moments with your boyfriend and seeing his so carefree and happy. His PR team would maybe have to do some cleaning up, but at the end of the day, he was a happy young man enjoying his time off and he had the right to enjoy it.
"She is my girlfriend - Look, Y/N! Someone is recording us, say hi, my love!", he yelled, getting you to wave at a girl filming on another boat, "isn't she pretty? And she fixed my nose too!".
(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)
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emphistic · 2 days
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Greedy
A/N: requested by @charbunxxi — i did something a little different, lmk if you would rather me repost a more accurate version to your request
The first thing Sukuna thought about after getting off his shift was you. You were the only thing he thought of while working, too. And, on the drive home, he almost crashed his car due to the fact that you were the only thing on his mind.
Some might say he's obsessive. Some might say he's deranged. Some might say he's a man deserving of nothing.
But then there's you, who says he's just a man in love.
He's a man who makes you breakfast and coffee — the way you like it. He's a man who draws you baths and washes your hair. He's a man who carries your bags after having gone shopping — with his card, obviously. He's a man who arrives at the apartment and — even then, still looks for home. He's a man who looks for you.
However, this time — unlike all other times, after slipping off his footwear and coat, he is unable to find you.
Maybe you were taking a shower? No. Maybe you were watching TV in the living room? Nope. Maybe you were doing laundry? Not even close.
When Sukuna finally succeeded in his search for you in your shared bedroom, he facepalmed. "'m so fuckin' stupid," he grunts out, as he crawls into bed.
You had fallen asleep while trying — but failing — to stay up in order to greet Sukuna after he returned home from work; but, he had had a longer shift than usual, and forgot to tell you.
He didn't mean to wake you. After all, it's not his fault that your pet cat just had to let out the world's loudest meow, announcing his arrival.
"You've got to be kidding me," he whispered, glaring at the little nuisance laying in the bed, cuddled up in your loving arms. The loving arms where he should be, not some ugly, good-for-nothing feline.
"My bad, baby. Swear, didn't mean to wake you—" He goes in to place a kiss on your cheek, but you simultaneously swerve away from him.
"No," you softly whine, shoving your head into the pillow.
"The fuck you mean 'no'? You seriously gonna deprive me of my well deserved kiss? After working a twelve hour shift?"
"No kisses." You mumble, your voice muffled.
Sukuna blinked at you, once, twice, thrice, until he finally concluded that you weren't just fucking around with him, and you were actually denying him of something totally essential to his well-being.
How was he meant to go on without your kisses? How would he live, breathe, eat, sleep, without your affection?
He tried to remove you from the pillow, but you instantly shoved your face back. "Noo."
"Sweetheart, I love you, y'know that already. And I wouldn't force you to do anything against your will. But, you don't understand, baby. What you're doing is completely and utterly cruel. This is wrong, on so many levels." He tried, again, to peel your face away from the pillow. And he succeeded, this time. But this time, you had a nasty pout on your face.
"You wanna know what's cruel? The fact you haven't showered, and yet, still have the audacity to crawl into bed. I'll have you know, I just replaced the bedsheets, and now here you are — dirtying them up."
"Babe, please—" He started.
"You are stinking up the whole goddamn apartment, Sukuna."
"You don't gotta be this way. We can talk it out."
"Sukuna—"
"C'mon, pretty girl. Just one? For little ol' me?"
You grumbled, but complied, albeit begrudgingly. "Fine, only one. But you have to take a shower after—mmph!"
Sukuna grabbed your face in his hands and tackled you down onto the bed, smashing his lips against yours so zealously that even the cat jumped out of your arms and off the bed.
-
It, indeed, was not just one kiss. But, it wasn't a total loss. Sukuna did end up taking that shower. And he gave you a reason to, as well.
Taglist: @beyond-your-stars @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @taiyakii @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside @kelerina-ballerina @emikokomura
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watermelons. | JS x Reader
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SYNOPSIS: Jake loves ur boobs. That’s it really.
PAIRING: Jake Seresin x Reader
A/N: written for all my big tit girlies, from a big tit girlie herself.
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He’s been obsessed with the girls since he first saw them.
And by the girls, he means your tits.
Like just imagine, cocky little top gun aviator, Jake Seresin, turning into a complete mess first glance at you. Spilling his beer all over his tan golden chest that one summer afternoon at the beach with the dagger squad, just because he saw you in your denim shorts and yellow halter top.
And they sit so nicely, your tits. Full, large, and beautiful.
The breeze carries the scent of salt, the air humid and yet all jake can do is stare at the girl with the sweet smile and pretty tits, laughing loudly with her friends on the Hard Deck patio.
“So you’re just gonna stare like a creep or what?” Bradley’s low voice calls out beside him, crossing his arms across his chest as he adjusts his aviator sunglasses, muscles glistening as well under the heat. He whistles softly when he sees you, to which Jake shoves his friend away playfully, annoyed that he’s looking at you too.
“Back off, Bradshaw”
And so next thing he knows, he’s by your side, immediately serenading you with his charming smile and kind eyes.
“Hi sweetheart”
It’s so fucking cheesy and simple, and yet it works on you. You’re spinning around, eyes going wide at the firm, golden chest your face to face with and the way Jake just looms over you, hands on his hips, sweaty and golden from a match of beach football.
“Would you allow me to buy the pretty girl and her friends a drink?” He asks your friend group, sending a wink that makes the girls swoon.
“Oh my fuck” slips out from one of your friends behind you, the group gawking at the sight of the tall, handsome man in front of them.
And she was right. Oh my fuck indeed.
All it took was one line of southern drawl and you were hooked.
That night when Jake has you pinned against the alleyway wall outside of the bar, both your cheeks hot and the breeze cooler, you stare up at the man you had just spent the whole day flirting to.
“So you’re stationed here for a few months?” you breathe out, staring at his broad chest and chiseled jaw, feeling so small under his gaze. You gasp when his hand shifts closer, holding your waist firm in his grasp.
He nods, no need for words when he’s busy admiring you as well. The tall man gently nestles his lips beside your ear, whispering praises as he pressed a kiss to your neck.
You shut your eyes, fluttering your eyelashes at the proximity and sheer sensuality of it all.
“Can I touch you?” He asks pulling away, looking at your eyes with something more than just lust.
You smile, chest heaving as you replied coyly. “Where do you want to touch me?”
Jake is starstruck at your words, trying so hard to shield you from the world under his arms and selfishly have you all for himself.
You take both his hands in yours and wrap them over your hips, letting them grab the mounds of your flesh and groan, feeling his hard on pressing against your front.
“feel me. and show me where you want to touch me most” you gasp, eyes shutting closed.
Jake pulls his hands away to caress your cheeks, taking your face as he presses his lips against yours.
“Here” he says under his breath. That was where he wanted to touch you most.
The kiss is deep, soft under the starry beach sky.
The same hands slide down to softly squeeze your tits, and that’s when you know that was the second spot he wanted to touch most. You smirk against the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing into him further.
Jake Seresin was a tits guy.
So when Jake comes home to his apartment after a year of steady dating, he’s already making a beeline to find you, settling on the fact that you must be in the laundry room finishing up the chores.
You don’t even have time to greet your boyfriend properly before he’s shoving his face in your tits and smacking a kiss to each one.
“Jake, what is up with you?” You giggled, shocked at how needy and hot he was. “I didn’t know they let you off early”
He sighs, taking them in his strong hands and pressing a kiss to each breast again.
“Just missed my girls, that’s all” he groans, holding you closer as you give him a hug.
you rolled your eyes, watching as he continue to rub them softly, pressing a kiss to your collar bone.
“I cut up the watermelon, it’s in the fridge” you told him, pulling him away to press a peck to his cheek.
You took the laundry basket, propping it against your hip as you smiled when Jake called out while pouting at the loss of contact.
“Not the melons I need!” he exasperates, trailing after you quickly.
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