#notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

[notiddygxthgf]

2/2

★ pairings: choso kamo x f!reader

★ synopsis: Yuuji Itadori truly was the best friend a girl like you could ask for, but he wasn't the only reason you came to visit. (His older brother, the devilishly handsome Choso Kamo, had always been the apple of your eye).

★ c.w.: slow burn, friends to lovers, eventual smut, childhood sweethearts, kinda, mutual pining, choso with a tongue piercing, rough sex, cunnilingus, backshots, unprotected sex, regular people au, two year age gap, PWP.

★ a/n: part two! its all smut lol. anyway, like I said, this one shot is finished (just split btw two chaps bc theres 11k words). but if u comment and persuade me who knows! I can always do another. im a whore for ur validation.

★ w.c.; 5k

best friend's brother ; chapter index

YUUJI COOCHIE <3

|  come over tn?

|  i got smth i wanna run by u first

YOU

|  omw.

You stood on Itadori’s porch, finger poised over the doorbell a month after your eighteenth birthday. You had been anticipating to see your best friend, Itadori. But as the door swings open, what you don’t expect is to come face to face with Itadori’s older brother.

Your heart drops, and your breath catches in your throat as you take in his appearance. It felt for a moment as if time had stood still since you last saw him. He had only grown more handsome during your time apart. His dark hair was done back into two messy buns, deep bags residing beneath his deep eyes. 

Choso looked absolutely breathtaking . His fitted black tee clung to his chest and arms, showing off his toned physique, while the baggy black sweats he was sporting gave him an effortlessly cool appearance.

His presence exudes a magnetic charm that takes you back to when you were 17. His half smirk sends a wonton shiver down your spine.

“Hey there,” He says, deep, rich voice sending ripples of familiarity throughout your body.

When his lips pull away from his teeth, forming syllables and words, you couldn’t help but notice a small glint of metal near the tip of his tongue. You realized immediately what had seemed so different about him, and your eyes widened in surprise.

“You pierced your tongue?” You blurt out, unable to hide your shock.

Choso nearly snorts, though his eyes never leave yours. “You’re not surprised to see me?” He teases.

“I am,” You retort quickly, trying to regain your composure. “You’re home for the holidays?”

He nods, gaze still fixed on your red face. “Just came home last night.”

That would explain why I didn’t see you, you thought.

“I’m glad you came, though, I’ve been holding onto your birthday gift for a while now,” He sighed, stepping aside to let you into the house but keeping his arm braced on the doorframe. 

You slide under his muscular arm, doing your best to ignore the way your body bristled with electricity when you brushed up against him.

You set your bag on the ground near the door, kicking off your shoes and neatly pushing them aside while Choso locked the door behind you. 

“It’s in my room,” he said, passing you.

You followed him nervously up the stairs into his bedroom, heart pounding a little louder with every step. This would be the first time you would find yourself alone in Choso’s room, and you couldn’t help but let your mind wander.

As you enter his bedroom, you drank in your surroundings – a rare sight. The room was a reflection of Choso’s personality; band tees all over the walls, sheets laid flat and clean, laundry sitting in a basket in a neat, folded pile – a subtle hint of organized chaos.

It felt both familiar and new at the same time. The air was thick with anticipation, and memories of your whirlwind summer fling with Choso came flooding back.

You brace your hands on the door. “Is Itadori home?” You ask him, hands tracing the doorframe while Choso rummaged through his drawer. You sat on his bed.

“Nah,” he replied casually.

Furrowing your brows, you tried to make sense of the situation. But told me to come over…

“Is he coming?” You tried again, voice tinged with uncertainty.

Choso rose up from the bedside drawer, extending a small box towards you with a slight grin. “Nope,” he said.

The realization hit you like a freight train. This was a fucking setup, and Itadori was the mastermind behind it all.

He wanted you alone with his brother. He knew about your fling with him. 

He didn’t notice when the two of you had disappeared to the pantry for ten minutes. 

Though the moment you returned to see him glancing at you with a curious brow raised, you knew he had finally caught on. Even if he didn’t say anything about it.

He knew.

He had set you up.

Your face was on fire. Still, you took the small box from Choso, an awkward smile on your face, and carefully undid the little bow. As you opened it, you revealed its contents – a tee shirt with Choso’s University crest on it, a glace pendant on a fabric necklace, and a box set of your favorite film saga.

Choso had never given you a gift for your birthday before, at least not anything beyond a card. Briefly, you wondered if it was his way of making up for your 18th birthday party, the one he had missed.

“Choso…” You began, a humorous grin on your lips. “Merch?”

He shrugged playfully, his gaze locked onto yours. “In case you miss me,” he replied, tone teasing yet sincere.

With a genuine smile, you leaned over and hugged him. “I love it,” you had told him.

Choso reached into the box for the necklace, gesturing for you to come closer. You leaned in, allowing him to loop the fabric over your head. His fingers brushed against your skin, your neck as he adjusted it.

He froze. You froze.

For a while, the room was quiet. There was an intense stare-off between you two. Choso cleared his throat, seemingly about to break the moment, but you had other plans. Gently, you gripped his chin between your index finger and your thumb, turning his head back to you. 

Gently, you tugged his lower lip down. He stuck his tongue out to wet the corner of his lips in return.

Your breath hitched as your gazes locked, and the air in the room shifted. Choso’s dark eyes shifted beneath your gaze, and you found yourself drawn closer to him.

You swallowed. “How bad did it hurt?” You asked, eyes fixed on the sliver of metal you had caught a glimpse of inside of his mouth.

Choso raised a finger towards his mouth, bringing your attention back to his tongue. “This?” He asked. “Hurt like a bitch, not gonna lie, but it healed up real nice.”

Wordlessly, he stuck his tongue out so you could see it up close. You examined it carefully – it really had healed up rather nicely. There was a small, silver ball wedged into the pink muscle. You wondered how it would feel on your lips, your neck, your body .

Choso closed his mouth. “I got it the first weekend after move-in day,” He explained.

“Why?” You inquired, curiosity finally getting the better of you.

He shrugged with a smirk, “Thought it would look hot. What do you think?”

“I think it looks like a pain in the ass,” You retorted. “Don’t any of the girls you kiss complain about that thing?”

“Quite the contrary,” he remarked, licking his lips. “Why’d you ask?”

You tried to ignore the jealousy that bubbled up inside of you, deep inside of you at the thought of him kissing other girls. You had to remind yourself who you were talking to here. You would have been naive to expect loyalty from a college freshman.

“Looks cold,” you commented instead. “I don’t imagine that would feel very good.”

And his eyes, those dark, beautiful cesspools of emotion, dropped down to your lips, lingering for a moment too long before returning to meet your gaze. “You wanna find out?” He asked.

“Piss off,” You scoffed, hitting him playfully on the shoulder. But the blush on your cheeks betrayed the effect his words had on you. “Fuckin’ tease.”

He didn’t move back. No, instead, he leaned in a little closer. “You sure?” He whispered, warm breath grazing the shell of your ear. “I can show you how good it feels, if you want.”

And that’s how you wound up here, with his face buried between your legs. He kissed his way up and down the skin of your thighs. You made quick work of his twin buns, tugging the ties out of his hair.

His lips curled into a knowing smirk. He lifted one of your legs onto his broad shoulder, running his tongue along the length of your inner thigh, pressing a kiss right where your ass met your legs. The metal ball on his tongue felt odd against your skin, but not necessarily unpleasurable.

You had never gone this far with him before. You were turned on beyond comprehension, hungry eyes drinking in the rosey hue that dusted his pale complexion while he sucked on your skin – hard enough for it to hurt, hard enough to leave a mark. 

Tenderly, Choso reached for your panties. He appeared to be on the precipice of a decision. 

“Can I…” He panted, trailing his thumb over the thin piece of fabric that separated the two of you. “Can I take these off?”

You nodded quickly, lifting your hips up for him while he guided the panties off of your legs. 

He licked his lips and parted your legs a second time, fully exposing you to his ravenous gaze. 

“You look like heaven,” He breathed out, voice trembling. He took a moment to admire you, smiling at the way you tried to hide your face. “Wanna taste…”

You had never done this before. The one man you had ever dared to hook up with hadn’t bothered. So you swallowed the lump in your throat, watching him get down on all fours and dip his head down between your legs like a man with his head bowed in worship. 

Though you were far from holy, in that moment, you felt like you were God.

His tongue was hot and wet against your skin, licking a stripe from bottom to top. The metal ball of his tongue piercing caught on your puffy clit, eliciting a quiet gasp. 

“Feel good, baby?” He teased, relishing in the way your thighs tensed around his head. His eyes flitted between you and your pussy – spread open for him like a buffet – pupils blown wide with desire. His pink lips parted around his tongue a second time, and this time you watched him.

Watched him press the metal ball against your clit, rolling over it in slow, steady circles.

You felt like you could die here. 

He adjusted his grip on your hips, pulling you down on the bed until you felt his nose pressing in between your folds. He kissed your heat, moaning into you.  Then, without so much as a warning, he began to eat you out like a starved man.

“Fuck, Cho–” You cried out for him, reaching down to tangle your fingers into his inky black tresses. You had never felt so good in your life, like he had been waiting for this as long as you had. You were sensitive, far too sensitive to comprehend the way your body felt, the way his tongue piercing felt as it glided over your hot flesh.

He didn’t slow down. He licked, slurped, and kissed your swollen clit, keeping that unforgiving pace up until your hips began to jump against his tongue.

“Shit,” You hissed,

He moaned into you in response, meeting your gaze with an intense fire burning behind his eyes. His tongue massaged you up to what you know would be the hardest orgasm of your life – that damn piece of metal made for one hell of a stimulant. It felt like it was pressing right up into your pressure points, deeper than his tongue was able to reach.

You felt yourself come apart at the seams, reduced to a moaning mess in a matter of minutes, riding his tongue like your life depended on it. He stopped moving for a moment, letting you grip him by the hair and ride his face. 

You couldn’t look away.

He looked amazing, fire burning behind his eyes, fingertips biting into the skin of your thighs, brows furrowed with concentration. His eyes never left yours, not even once.

You dropped your head onto the pillow, sitting back and allowing him to resume what he had been doing earlier – that thing with his tongue. 

And resume it he did, assuming a more demanding pace this time. It almost made you want to cry – the pace, the ball on his tongue – it was almost too much to bear. It felt so good.

You felt that familiar coil in your abdomen, almost like you were about to cum, then in a moment’s width he had pulled away. 

You struggled to regain your surroundings, vision cloudy and hazy with pleasure. You could hear your rampant heartbeat racing in your own ears. 

Choso leaned back with a stretch, cracking his neck and licking his lips. The entirebottom half of his face was drenched, dripping with an obscene mixture of your slick and his spit. 

He looked gorgeous, even when his face was tinted red. 

“Choso…” You breathed, letting a breathless chuckle slip between your parted lips.

He grinned back at you. “Any complaints?”

You didn’t glorify him with a response, gripping him by the fabric of his shirt and tugging him up and over you. You searched for his lips, locking them between yours in a messy, heated kiss. The taste of you lingered on his tongue, tangy and a little sweet.

“Shut up and fuck me, Kamo,” You panted with a grin of your own.

That was all he needed to push you onto your back, diving back in to ravage your lips again. It was all a rushed, passionate haze – he tugged your tee shirt over your head, you shoved your skirt down to your ankles and kicked it off the side of the bed. He leaned back with a stretch to reach for the back of his shirt, tugging it over his head and flinging it to the side. 

Your mouth nearly watered for him. He was everything you had dreamed of and so much more. Well defined arms, pecs, abs – a few tattoos littered the broad expanse of his chest. His torso tapered down into a thin, slutty waist. You let your hand slide down his abdomen, eliciting a quiet groan from him as your painted fingernails caught on his toned abs, ghosted over the large tent in his sweats that left nothing to the imagination. 

He was big. Bigger than you had anticipated. The last man you were with was about 3 inches (which was probably for the better, because it had been your first time). He felt about three times as big as that. Maybe more.

It didn’t take long for him to flip you onto your stomach, pulling your ass flush against his navel. He reached for a handful of your hair, jerking your head to the side, then uttered against your ear, “G’nna fuck that attitude right out’ta you.”

He left you for a moment while he undid the strings of his sweatpants. You couldn’t watch. You knew if you saw it, you would have doubts. 

But you found yourself looking back anyway, right as he had told you. “Wanna reach into that drawer and grab me a condom?”

“Are you um…” You swallowed. “You don’t have any diseases, do you?”

You knew you were clean because you were so disgusted by the man you had hooked up with before Choso that you’d taken yourself to the planned parenthood in town the day after to be tested. Even if you had used a condom.

Choso’s brow quirked up at that. “No, I don’t have any STDs. I get tested twice a year.”

Oh. Okay.

Again, you didn’t want to think about how many women had taken his dick before you. 

“Never gone raw before, though,” He mused quietly, hand rubbing mindless circles over the skin of your ass. 

“Really?” You asked.

“Is that a surprise?” He retorted, though he didn’t seem very hurt by your comment. “Can’t babytrap me.”

You thought about definitely didn’t think about Choso being a father. 

“Is there any way for you to, like…” You hummed, trailing off. Your inexperience had never been more disgustingly apparent. “Pull out?”

“You’re talking like this is your first time,” he laughed breathily.

You paused. His eyes widened.

“Is… this your first time?” He asked again.

“I had sex with this one guy from my class a while ago,” You said after an awkward silence. “He was small and, like, really bad at it.”

Choso seemed humored by your honest admission, though it came at the expense of your own embarrassment. “Why’d you go through with it, then?”

“I only did it to get back at you,” You turned your head back to the pillowcase below you. With a pout, you admitted, “Thought for some reason that by me having sex, I was proving something. I was younger and stupider, okay?”

“So… you’ve only had sex once?” He asked. You didn’t realize this was an interrogation. 

You nodded embarrasedly. Somehow this was more humiliating than being spread open for him like you were right now.

“You sure you want this?” He hummed, roaching forward to tuck your hair behind your ear. It was strangely intimate. When you nodded, he sighed. “We’ll go slow, then. I don’t wanna hurt you–”

“Don’t treat me like I’m fragile,” You cut him off, finally turning back to look at him. “I can take it, okay? Just answer the damn question.”

Choso leaned down over you, pinning you into the bed, kissing down your spine. “We can… do backshots,” he murmured against your skin. “Want that?”

“Mhm,” You sighed, easing into his touch.

You had waited far too long for this for something like a condom to get in between the two of you. You wanted to feel him. All of him. 

Choso rolled back, slipping his tip between your fold and swiping it through your slick. You watched him, watched the way he bit his lip at the sensation, eyes glued onto the place where you met him . 

He pursed his lips, letting spit fall from his lips. You watched it dribble down, landing right onto your twitching hole. 

That was so fucking hot .

Then, without a word of warning, he pushed the tip in. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, feeling the burn, the stretch of his girth inside of you. He paused for a moment when the tip was the only thing inside of you, brows drawn together, breaths shallow.

It took everything you had not to cry out in pain. You had been waiting your whole life for this.

But, shit, it hurt. He was big. You felt your body struggle to accommodate him.

Maybe some prep should have been in order…

Oh well, gotta see it through.

As if sensing your internal dilemma, Choso reached down, intertwining his fingers with yours. He placed a soft kiss to the back of your neck. 

“You okay?” He asked you.

No . Yes.

“Yeah,” You bit out. “Just… I ‘jus need a minute.”

“Just tell me when,” he pressed another kiss to your hot skin. “You’re doing so good.”

It took you a few more minutes to adjust to him. Every minute, he would slip in a little further, just enough to make your skin hot and flushed. You could feel him throbbing inside of you, throbbing against your spongy walls.

Eventually, you gave him the green light. And, fuck, it was like something inside of him had snapped. He slid the rest of the way in until his hips were flush with your ass. He drew out, slowly, then thrust back in again.

It felt like he was pulling you apart over and over again, snapping his hips against yours in a progressively harder fashion. 

Choso whimpered quitedly, pausing his harsh movements to change pace. You clenched around him in response, something that made him double over. “Ah, fuck,” He gasped. “You feel so fuckin’ good.”

He drew back, thrusting into you once more. You felt your whole body jolt forward with a loud moan of your own.

With wild, passionate eyes, Choso pulled out again, leaving just enough room for the tip. Then, he slammed back into you. Again, again, again – he was relishing in the way you cried into the pillow.

“Fuck, fuck,” You chanted, like some sort of sinful prayer. “ Fuck me, Cho– ”

“Might not last long if you keep callin’ my name like that,” He gasped, tangling a large hand into your messy tresses and gripping it tightly. 

You drew your brows together, allowing yourself to be lost in the pleasure, the attention he was giving you. What would Itadori think, you wondered, if he walked in on you like this – face down ass up in his big brother’s bed?

“Choso ,” You groaned into the pillow. It felt like he was scratching an itch deep inside of you – not your coochie, but your soul. It felt like you were made for this. “ Choso, Fuck. ”

Itadori slipped into his house with a quiet sigh. He kicked his shoes off, set his bag down on the floor, and then reached for his scarf. It had been one long, hellish day. He felt bad making you wait for him, but he didn’t doubt that you would have made yourself right at home in his bedroom by now. You were probably sprawled out over his bed, passed out or playing with his PS5.

He froze when he heard something come from upstairs. It sounded like furniture being moved around, or something like that. There were voices, too.

With knitted brows, he walked hesitantly towards the stairs. Was it coming from up there?

“Fuck, Choso,” He heard a vaguely familiar – albeit very muffled voice – moan. 

It was you. You and another muffled voice.

“Choso, Choso!” 

“Right there?”

“Fuck– yes! Don’t stop!”

He quirked a brow. Then, with a sigh and a dejected shake of his head, he hid away in the kitchen.

“Please!” You gasped, you fumbled around behind you in search of his hand. He grabbed it, pinning your arm behind your back and thrusting into your sore pussy from a new angle – one that made you feel dizzy. You didn’t know how long the two of you had been going at it. All you knew was that you never wanted it to end, that your mind was a blissful haze.

Your body slid up against the bedsheets – up and down, up and down, clenched fingers leaving wrinkles in their wake. 

“Fuck me harder,” You pled.

And fuck you harder he sure did. His chest rolled against your backside, pinning you into the mattress and holding you right where he wanted you. Then he fucked you a little harder.

You were all but screaming his name at that point. “Choso–” 

The head of his cock was bullying into you, beating against that spot deep within you that made your feet fly up, rubbing the back of his thighs as if to tell him ‘ keep going’.You gripped the sheets with unwarranted strength, feeling yourself drip and clench around him – hearing the obscene squelch you made when the two of you met in the middle. 

“ Fu-u-uck ,” You cried, voice high and weak.

“Quit suckin’ me in like that,” He chuckled, though it was cut short by a deep, guttural groan as you did it again. “ Shit , you want kids or somethin’?”

There was a knot in your stomach. A vaguely familiar warmth that seemed to only grow hotter by the second.

“ So perfect, so wet ,” Choso commended you, licking the shell of your ear, peppering butterfly kisses to the back of your neck. Your name fell out of his pretty lips between a cacophony of sinful noises.

You felt yourself get lost in him, craning your head around to take another look at him. His angelic face, scrunched up with pleasure, mouth hanging open just slightly, pale face dusted with pink. Inky black hair plastered to his forehead and neck with sweat. The muscles in his chest and torso rippled.

“I’ve wanted you…” You gasped, trying your best to articulate despite the stimulation he was giving you – it was almost too much. “Since I was young – fuck .”

His hips stuttered. He pulled your hair away from your neck, kissing the junction where your jaw met your neck. 

He gripped your hair to crane your head back, slowing his thrusts to long, deep strokes that had you trembling. 

“The feeling was mutual,” Choso grunted, trying to keep himself together.

You felt your eyes roll almost all the way back into your fucking head, mouth hanging open, drooling shamelessly on his pillow, his sheets.

You were close. So close.

Those deep, lust-filled eyes of him weren’t doing anything to slow the train that was coming. Each thrust, each slide of his cockhead against your g-spot brought you closer and closer to the edge.

“You feel even better than I imagined,” He growled, and you nearly came right then and there. 

He moved his hands so that your hips were up in the air for him, bringing his other arm around your neck to pin you there. When he picked up pace this time, you felt yourself drip – like, actually drip – all over him.

I wanna have his kids .

Your moans and pleas matched the pace of his sloppy thrusts. He was getting close, too. You could hear it. No, seriously, noises like that should have been criminal.

The feeling of being filled by him was driving you up the wall – almost as hard as he was currently driving you into the mattress. You never wanted it to end. 

But, shit, it was about to.

“Choso,” You whimpered. He didn’t slow down. “Think ‘m g’nna cum.”

“Yeah?” he gritted out, breath fanning over your neck and your cheek. He reached a hand down, releasing your neck to rub slow circles on your puffy clit – a speed that felt foreign compared to the harsh strokes he was giving you, but not entirely unwelcome.

That was all it took to have you hurling towards the edge, ass jumping up and down to meet his thrust in the middle, to take as much of him in as you possibly could.

“Yeah, shit,” He gasped. He was trying to hold on for you, but you were making it realhard. “G’nna cum for me, baby? Lemme fuckin’ hear it.”

You were all but throwing it back on him, mindlessly chasing your release like a bitch in heat. The moment you got the green light, your orgasm snapped. You cried out his name one final time, arching your back all the way into the sheets, spasming wildly around him. The shock tore through you in waves.

Your hips jolted with hypersensitivity while he fucked you through it.

Choso’s hips stuttered. He twitched, like he couldn’t take another minute of this, then he remarked, “That was so fuckin’ hot, holy shit – fuck, wait–”

He slid out of you rapidly, leaving you to gasp at the sudden loss of him. The next thing you know, he was stroking himself to completion. He came with a broken whimper of your name, spurting ropes of warm cum all over your back.

You took a moment to catch your breath. He did the same. A few moments, actually.

The silence that followed was deafening. He groaned, running a shaky hand through his hair. You collapsed into the bed.

He had left the bedside at one point, though only for a moment before he returned with a warm wash rag. He cleaned his love paint off of your spine.

Then, tossing the rag into his hamper, he collapsed next to you.

You chuckled breathlessly, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him with all of the strength you had left in you (not much). “Shit…” 

“Shit,” he agreed, licking his lips. “You were great.”

“You were better,” You said. “I don’t think I’ll be able to walk home tonight, though.”

Choso shrugged. He reached down, pulling the covers over the two of you. “Sleep here, then.”

Sleep here.

You recalled many nights of him walking girls to the door. Choso never let girls stay the night.

He wants me to spend the night with hiim.

You laughed, reveling in the irony of it all. Years and years of pining led you here, to this. “What would Itadori think?”

Choso threw an arm over your waist, pulling you closer to his side. “Fuck what Itadori thinks.”

Your world went black a moment later.

Your eyes fluttered open as you lay in the aftermath of a steamy evening with the man of your dreams. Choso, your best friend’s brother. The one you had fucked.

His lips were pressed into the slightest pout. You watched him snore, taking note of how peaceful he looked while he slept, taking note of the way his tousled black hair fell into his pretty face.

With a contented sigh, you reached for a shirt that lay nearby – his shirt. The one he had taken off yesterday. You slipped out from beneath the covers, padding quietly out of Choso’s bedroom. Your feet were quiet against the wooden steps.

As you entered the living room space, you contemplated sneaking into the kitchen in search of some much-needed sustenance. It had to have been later in the afternoon at that point – you assumed that you and Choso had been sleeping for a few hours, at least. Your stomach grumbled in agreement.

Just as you were about to step into the familiar kitchen, however, you froze. There, sitting at the table, munching on a Kit Kat bar like it was no one’s business, was her best friend. 

Itadori.

“Hey…” You said rather awkwardly, heart racing. “You’re… you’re home.”

Itadori quirked a brow, looking you up and down curiously. His eyes noticeably lingered on your neck, right were you had a sneaking suspicion Choso had marked you with his lips and teeth. 

“Hey,” He finally said. “You two finally done up there?”

“You heard that. Of course you did,” You sighed, dropping your stiff arms and plopping into the stool next to him at the kitchen island. You faceplanted into the cold surface, groaning, “How much did you hear?”

“Enough to know my brother’s good in bed,” Itadori took another bite. He placed a heart over his chest, feigning an exaggerated cry of, “ Choso– oh, Choso, don’t stop, I’m cu–”

“He told me you weren’t coming home,” You groaned, even louder this time. You were glad that Itadori couldn’t see the nasty shade of red that had painted your features.

“He lied,” Your best friend chuckled, crumpling the wrapper of his Kit Kat bar and tossing it in the trash bin. He stood off, dusting his hands on his pants, reaching for his phone. Then, like nothing had happened, he said,  “I’m ordering Chinese. You want?”

You raised your head at that, taking a slow glance at the room around the two of you. “I could go for some beef and broccoli…”

You loved the bond you had with Yuuji. Unbreakable, truly. Sometimes a little toocomfortable. This was, undoubtedly, one of those times.

Itadori dialed a few numbers into his phone. He paused, raising his brow again, “I think you’ve had enough meat tonight, don’t you?”

“Shut the fuck up,” You sighed, though you laughed a bit at his joke. 

Images of Choso flashed through your mind. The image of him spitting on the tip before slipping it in. The image of him tangling a fist in your hair, craning your head back to look at him while he pounded you into the mattress.

With a faint smirk of your own, you remarked. “You’re probably right. I should save room for all of the meat I’m gonna be eatin’ tonight after you go to bed.”

“Please shut up,” Itadori sighed, running the palms of his hands over his exasperated face. With a shake of his head, he held the phone up to his ear. “I really don’t want to think about my brother putting his dick in you. Not while dinner is also in the question.”

You shrugged. Your phone buzzed. Turning it over, you read the new message you had received.

CHOSO    just now

Whered u go beautiful

Your phone chimed a second time.

CHOSO    just now

Steamed dumplings n fried rice plz

You turned the screen over with a grin, telling Itadori. “Your brother wants steamed dumplings and fried rice.”

“I’d say fuck my brother, but tonight’s game night and I don’t want you taking that literally,” Itadori sighed. Still, he unmuted himself, telling the woman on the other side of the phone, “Another order of fried rice and dumplings, too, please.”

Yuuji Itadori really was the best friend a girl like you could ask for.

a/n: hi there my little steamed dumplins <33 lmk what u thought!!! I love reading ur comments and dms. again, this is a one shot, but I would totally drop another part if yall would like -- gotta show papa choso some love. comment and lmk what u think pookiesss

comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

taglist: @missphanosaur18 ,

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[chososdiscordkitten]

Obsessive!Choso♡ pt6

pt 5 here content: stalking, (duh.) thoughts of violence, blackmail, mentions of grooming, overall Choso thinking he's a good guy, paranoia, starting to feel the anxiety of someone possibly stalking reader

(a.n) I wrote this listening to 'Black no 1 - Type O Negative'

Taglist: @sunaumei @ex-ria @just-pure-trash @kha-0s @flam3bird @waytootiredforthisss @blindedbylighting @chosowhore @bash1018 @tetsuswhore @ofalcaodacolinablue @mahgyu @notiddygxthgf

Obsessive!Choso who looked at you, had a smile on his face before interrupting your ‘friend’. “Of course I'd like to join you.” Looking over to this, Theo. Seeing his eyes full of disappointment, a sinister smile formed on Choso's lips. Knowing that this person will never even come close to making you feel the way he does. ‘It’s okay. You can try and find scraps of me in other men. I'm patient. I will wait for you to come back to me when these men can't hold a candle to the thought of me. I will wait.’ he thought, calling your name. Sitting across from you and your ‘friend’. This guy was staring at Choso as though he could read his thoughts. Smile on his face, knowing he'd never be able to. Awkward tension in the air, making you want to shrink into your seat. Seeing you about to speak up but he needed to know. Know what you see in this shallow man. “What did you say you did for a living?” Choso asked, the question was harmless. But his eyes gave away his true intentions. ‘I'll find you. I'll find out how to ruin you.’ Making the man squint, “I didn't, but I work in tech.” He started, droning on and on about his job. Looking over at you, your face bored as though you'd heard him say the same thing over and over again. ‘Idiot. I didn't even have to ask him another question- he's telling me everything I need.’

Holding back a smile. Nodding his head, mocking him while hearing your ‘friend’ yap on and on. “And you? How could you afford to come to such a college? Especially so far away from home.” Passive aggressive. Choso saw what he was trying to do. “Don't tell me-” Theo started, closing his eyes and pretending to think. “Trust fund?” He asked sarcastically, making you look over to him in shock. “God no-” Choso laughed, thinking of all the ways he could dispose of him. “Though I'm sure you'd know all about that.” He kept a playful tone, but his eyes gave him away. Hearing your friend laugh, “You kids these days. Always so quick to snap.” Theo smiled, ‘I'll show you what snapping is.’ crow's feet forming at the corners of his eyes. ‘See? He sees you as nothing but a child. Tell me you see it too.’ he thought, looking over at you to see what you'd say. 

Choso’s anger pooled in his gut when he saw the way Theo looked at you. Almost telling you to keep your mouth shut. Nodding your head in disapproval. True, you only invited Choso to see how he'd act. See if he would show you some kind of indication as to how he felt about you. But this- this was just awkward. Seeing you look down at the menu, your fingers on your forehead. Theo looking down at his phone, before leaning over to your ear and whispering something. ‘I'll kill him.’ he vowed, seeing your eyes widened at Theo’s whispers. Looking over at him, “Really?” You asked, seeing him stand up and kiss the top of your head. All while staring directly at Choso. “It's work-I'll call you later, babe.” before walking off, answering a call on his phone. ‘This is who you replaced me with?’ seeing you ease your shoulders the second he left. “Known him long?” He asked, breaking the silence. Making you smile at how he was starting to show you some kind of jealousy, “A while. I guess.” You smiled, taking a drink from your cup, raising your eyebrows at him. Seeing him nod, almost disapprovingly. “I must be missing something here- clearly.” He spoke, “I mean- he's well read, he's nice. What more could I ask for in a friend?” you exhaled, dropping your smile before looking down at the menu again. ‘Well read? Nice? He just left you for work, called you a child and looks old enough to be your father.’ scoffing as he replayed the words in his head. “Problem?” You asked, trying to get him to admit he was jealous. 

What Choso felt wasn't jealousy, he felt possessive. Like if he saw you once more with that man- he'd have to show you just how possessive he was. “You're naive if you think he just wants to be your friend.” He scoffed, seeing you furrow your eyebrows. This was fun- at first. But now he's calling you naive- almost telling you that you're an idiot. Seeing you exhale- 'You're getting angry.’ It wasn't the fact he was asking too many questions. It was the fact that he didn't just tell you what he was thinking. Dancing around what you wanted to hear. Smile on your lips, opening your mouth to say something- to ask him if he was being jealous. But thinking before you spoke. “I think I'm going back home. Theo was right- you must be tired.” You mumbled, standing up and seeing his face fall. It wasn't the fact that he didn't show you what you wanted to see, it felt belittling when he looked at you like that. Almost telling you ‘This isn't you.’ but not saying it, it almost felt like…slut shaming? Hearing him ask you to wait, but you walked away. ‘Our first fight.’ he thought, watching you walk out the doors of the restaurant. 

Obsessive!Choso who kept apologizing to you mentally, ‘I know I should apologize. Show up to your door with a thousand flowers and beg you on my hands and knees to forgive me. But I have work to do. I need to find out who this ‘Theo’ in tech is. I need to make sure he isn't a stalker or a serial killer.’ he'd thought, scrolling through your following list, trying to find anyone with the same name, but he came up empty handed. Searching up his name followed by tech companies. So very easy to find his full name and the name of the company he worked for. Opening Theo’s instagram, ‘Babe? Babe, you're dating a douchebag.’ he teased you in his own mind, scrolling through the many photos of him on yachts and of him doing whatever the fuck ‘Hot yoga’ was. Going to his tagged, so many pictures of him with other women. ‘Busy boy aren't you?’ His profile was littered with women in tiny bikinis. ‘Somehow you're always on vacation, year round huh?’ Finding the one picture he knew would lead him to what he was looking for. A family photo, his son and wife posing happily. ‘Of course he's married.’ he'd think, clicking on the account that was tagged on his wife. Endless pictures of her house, of her family, comparing the two instagram accounts. ‘I know you don’t know he's married. He spewed a bunch of bullshit to you. He manipulated you. Do you know about all these pictures?’ thinking while refreshing the page- seeing he had just posted something. ‘I mean come on. You're making this too easy.’ seeing photos with someone that very much wasn't you. ‘Either he told you he didn't have social media or you know. But you're not like that- I know you. You wouldn't date a married man.’

Obsessive!Choso who printed each photo he could find that was incriminating. ’It's clear here- he didn't miss you when you were gone. You mean nothing to him.’ You know it was serious when he printed the photos in color. Making two copies of each photo. Smile on his face while watching the ink dry. Typing out onto two forms, “Do you know what your husband is up to?” Slipping it into a yellow folder with the photos. And on the other, “Be careful who you let into your life.” addressing one to his wife and the other to you. Writing down the address that was almost too easy to find. And holding onto the other for the next time he'd go by your house. ‘I'm doing this for you. I know you don't see what I see. But that's why you need me. You need me to protect you from all the people in the world that will try to hurt you.’ 

Sending out the envelope to Theo’s wife. Going to your house while you were in the coffee shop on campus. Placing it on the doormat before walking back to where he last saw you. Walking directly to where you were sitting. It was the next day- he didn't text and neither did you. But Choso knew he had to be there for you- especially now with that little present he left on your doorstep. Seeing you move your eyes to look at him. Not even greeting him with a smile. “Could I sit?” He asked, the soft tone he took made you almost forget why you were upset. ‘Mhm.’ he heard from you, looking back down at your book. Glancing up when you saw him shifting in his seat. “I'm sorry.” He started, seeing you purse your lips and look at him. “For?” You asked, your tone stern, wanting to be sure that he knew what he did wrong. Choso felt goosebumps on his arms at hearing how upset you sounded, “For being mean. And for not being supportive.” He exhaled, you looked at him. He looked like a child that was being scolded, hands between his knees and looking away from your gaze. Smile forming on your face when you thought of what to say. “And why were you mean and unsupportive?” you asked, your tone cold as he looked up to see you. Opening his mouth to speak, thinking of what he could say to you. Choso felt his ears could burn off at any second. “I was-” he started, “I was worried.” he urged, seeing you tilt your head and squint your eyes. “About what? Don't think I can take care of myself?” You taunted, seeing him become more and more flustered every time you spoke. ‘I know you can't. I've seen how much you can't take care of yourself.’ 

Obsessive!Choso who was stuttering and stumbling over his words. “That's not what I'm saying-” he started, seeing you squint at him. It was happening again. “I've seen you walk home alone and- and it worries me- people are crazy and I don't want you to get kidnapped- or worse-” He threw so many words at you, he didn't even know what he was saying. But seeing you crack a smile and close your eyes eased him. “I won’t get kidnapped. I'll try my best not to.” You smiled, letting go of the stern face when you saw how flushed he became. “And as for Theo- he was my ex-boyfriend's step dad.” You confessed, seeing Choso’s face drop. Looking away from you and trying to connect the dots. “From highschool- my ex wasn't the greatest kid and Theo really helped me out.” You smiled, ‘He groomed you. Didn't he?’ 

The agonizing feeling of wanting to throw up when he heard you tell the disgusting tale of the man he was. “I was 15 or 16 I think- when Theo helped me leave his son. His wife wasn't the greatest person either, always accusing me of- vile things.” You exhaled, telling this to Choso as though he was your prince charming. “But he got me my own place, got me a car. Helped me choose this college; helped me leave my family.” You continued, remembering the unpleasant memories from home. ‘He deserves worse than me ruining his life.’ he thought, seeing your face almost light up while telling him how Theo came to see you- to check up on you. ‘I will kill him for you. I will chop him into pieces and throw him into a construct-’ his violent thoughts were interrupted. “Oh my god- Choso your nose!” you exclaimed, reaching for paper towels from the small dispenser on the table. 

So much anger that his nose actually started bleeding. Wiping it with his fingers, feeling it drip into his mouth. Trailing the tips of his fingers down to his lips before pulling them away and seeing them covered in blood. Looking over at you with hazy eyes, pressing napkins onto his face, Hearing you ask him something, but deaf with rage. Looking up at you through his eyelashes, now standing in front of him, a napkin pressed firmly onto his pierced nose as your other hand held the back of his head still. “Are you okay?” you asked him, face full of worry. The feeling of your hands on his head made him forget that he was currently bleeding, thinking you were holding his face with deep devotion. Feeling him nod against your hands. Pulling your hands from him slowly, looking at his face to see if he was truly okay. 

Obsessive!Choso who spent the next two hours at the cafe with you, hearing you speak about the man who tried to take you away from him. Pocketing the anger he felt, knowing if he saw him once more- he would beat him bloody. Flashing images of him taking advantage of you, when you were just a child. Following you home, watching from a distance when you picked up the large folder labeled with your name. Opening it and reading the paper, eyes skimming the photos. He was far, but not far enough to see the shock and fear on your face when you looked around. Trying to see who left these here. Seeing you open the door to your house, picturing you walking up the steps and into your bedroom. Dialing the phone to call your self proclaimed prince charming, if only you knew the true one was outside watching you. Phone pressed to your ear as you paced the window. Silent tears falling from your eyes as you waited for him to answer. Seeing you opening your mouth, speaking to him. Reading your lips, asking him ‘what the fuck these photos were. And who sent them’ only to be yelled “Not now!” before hanging up. Knowing that Theo was the kind of idiot who’d choose someone else over you. But thankful for his idiocy. The feeling of losing one of the only ‘parental’ figures in your life was destroying. Choso stepped closer to your house, being able to hear your sobs. ‘It's okay.’ he comforted you. Your weeping made him want to cry with you. ‘This had to be done. I had to make you see that nobody will love you the way I do.’

Obsessive!Choso who didn't hear from you for the next two days, taking strolls to your house and seeing you were in your bedroom. He didn't know you hadn't left because of the fear that someone was actually stalking you. Almost like you felt his presence, going insane inside that house. All alone, still a week left before your roommates came home. You called him, tears in your eyes at the thoughts in your head. “Hey.” you whispered, voice cracked before you sniffled. This made his heart break, knowing you were wasting tears on that pig who hurt you. Closing his eyes in pain. “Hey- I haven't heard from you in a while.” He spoke, feigning being clueless before he heard you let out a quick ‘Ha-ha’. “Yeah- I'm sorry.” You apologized, feeling tears prick your cheeks. “Are you okay?” he asked, hearing you let out a choked sigh as you closed your eyes, smiling at the comfort his voice brought you. “No. Not at all. But I was wondering if you could come see me?” You asked, sniffling away your embarrassment. Feeling like Choso was the only one you could trust right now. “Of course- at the cafe?” He asked, seeing you step in front of your window, looking out and feeling like you were being watched. Closing the curtain before answering him, “No- No you can just come to my house.” You sat on your bed, closing your eyes and listening to him. “Yeah- yeah, wherever you want.” He replied, almost telling you he'd see you in a few minutes, but remembering you hadn't actually given him your address yet. “Send me the address, okay?” He asked you, making you smile as you huddled over your legs. Mumbling a small, ‘Mhm’ before he asked, “Do you need anything? Something to drink or a snack?” He asked, making you giggle. “No. No I just need-” You started, feeling your cheeks warm at what you were about to say, ‘Me. you just need me.’ he thought. “Please. Please just get here as soon as you can.” You spoke, not wanting it to sound so pathetic but it did.

It took all the strength he had to not run across the street to knock on your door. Instead, walking to the small grocery store that was close to your house. Picking up a few vegetables and some tilapia fish. Wanting to show you just how well he could take care of you if you let him. Almost running to your house 15 minutes after you sent him the address. Knocking on the door and hearing you open it immediately. No makeup, evident bags under your eyes and in your pajamas at 5:34 pm. And still, you looked otherworldly in his eyes. “Hey-” you murmured, voice pained as you fought off tears. Looking at him, no eyeshadow, and his hair down. “You, my dear-” he started, making you smile at his words. Seeing him take a step inside and kicking the door shut. Heavy boots clacking on the wood flooring. “Look like you need a hug. “ He said, holding the plastic bag in his hand. Nodding your head yes before seeing him place the bag on the table next to the door. Taking a step towards you and snaking your arms around him, closing your eyes as you pressed the side of your face to his chest. Exhaling as though he knew exactly what you needed. Wrapping his arms around your shoulders without any hesitation this time. Squeezing you tightly, resisting the urge to kiss the top of your head, feeling you smile against him. Pulling away from him and grinning. “You wanna talk about it?” He asked, seeing you look down at your socks. “No- if that's okay.” You mumbled, “What did you bring?” you whispered, seeing him look over at the bag. “Don’t worry about it.” He smiled, kicking his shoes off at the door. 

Obsessive!Choso who convinced you to stay on the couch while he cooked for you, eyes following his every move. Sleeves rolled up and hair pulled back, cutting up carrots. Catching you staring multiple times, only smiling before continuing to mince the vegetables. “I didn't know you cooked.” You grinned, seeing him place the vegetables into the pan your roommates had told you multiple times not to use. “I never liked mentioning it- and unexpected, don't you think?” His tone was soft, not bothering to use the rugged act he used in public. Not now. “Definitely.” You replied, seeing the sun setting while Choso infused his love into what he was making. “You don't cook?” He asked, looking up from the stove, placing the knives and cutting board into the sink. “Growing up I was always told I had hands that were like a stomach- destroying everything they touch.” You laughed, seeing him not find it funny. “I mean- it's true. I can't cook for the life of me, and I never had the patience for baking.” Seeing him return you a smile, ‘This is what life would be like with me. You'd never have to cook, or clean. I'd do everything for you.’ he'd think, turning around and hiding his toothy smile from you. 

Obsessive!Choso who reached into your cupboards, pulling out two oval plates. Calling you over, telling you to close your eyes. Sitting at the small table in your kitchen, opening them and seeing the plate he served for you. Choso let out a small ‘Ta-da’ Opening your mouth with furrowed eyebrows. “I don't even want to eat it- it's a masterpiece.” You smiled, seeing him place the pan into the sink before sitting down next to you, waiting for you to take the first bite. “You have to, I need to know if you like it.” he smiled, his hands in between his knees. Watching you pick up the fork, picking up a piece of vegetables and a good chunk of the fish. “Careful, it's hot.” He mumbled, smile on your lips before blowing gently onto the food. Almost dying when he saw you place it into your mouth, biting down and closing your eyes. His face winced when you looked at him. “Is it not good?” he asked, seeing you furrow your eyebrows and finish chewing. Running your tongue across the front of your teeth. “I haven't eaten a home cooked meal this good in 3 years.” You smiled, looking at him light up at your words. “Is it-?” he asked, seeing you nod quickly before taking another bite, “Whatever major you're in- change it. Go to culinary school. Jesus.” You smiled, taking another bite. Making him smile and look down at his own plate. “Did your parents teach you?” you asked, taking a drink from the glass to your right. “I taught myself-” he exhaled, placing his cutlery down and looking at you. “My mother passed away when I was young, I was 10, I think” He exhaled, seeing you pinch your eyebrows. “And my father wasn't the kind of man to stick around- so I learned for my brothers.” He smiled, looking at your face of sorrow. Reaching for his wrist, “I'm so sorry Choso.” You whispered. Seeing him look down at his plate. “If I didn't learn how- they'd still be eating microwaved hotdogs and chocolate milk for all 3 meals.” he chuckled, lightening the mood, seeing you smile. “Who cooks for them now?” You asked, leaning onto your hand as he exhaled. “They're all grown up now- either they cook for themselves or they eat leftover pizza.” he smiled, the memories of when he first started cooking for them flashing in his mind. 

Looking down at your plate and then at his, noticing yours lacked mushrooms “Why doesn't mine have any mushrooms?” You asked, seeing his smile fall. A few seconds of silence in the air before he spoke. “I remembered you mentioned something about not liking them.” The smile that was previously on his face returned. “You remember everything, don't you?” You smiled, looking down at your plate to hide the warmth that was rising on your cheeks. “That reminds me-” He smiled, standing up and going to the coat hanger by your door. Reaching into the pocket and pulling out a small square of tissue paper. “I know Christmas has passed. But- I thought better late than never right?” He said, placing the square onto the table and seeing you return a blushing smile. “You didn't have to Choso-” Your eyebrows pinched. “I know- I know. But I wanted to.” He smiled, looking at your face. Mouthing, ‘Open it’ before you delicately opened the tissue paper. Slack jawed when you saw it. A small beaded bracelet, black and red beads with square letters. Your favorite band's name on it. Looking at him and feeling butterflies in your stomach. “Thank you.” you whispered, not remembering telling him about your favorite band, but chalking it up to you probably forgot, but he remembered. Slipping it onto your wrist, perfect fit. ‘I always want to know where you are. I want you to carry a piece of me with you everyday.’

“Is this a friendship bracelet?” You asked, seeing he had a similar one. “Only if you want it to be.” He smiled, seeing you look down at the colors. “Do you want it to be?” You smiled, looking into his eyes. Making his ears warm and a smile form on his lips, “I do.” seeing you look away from him, not wanting him to see you blush. ‘That won't be the first time I say those words. I'll make sure of that.’

-

pt 7 here

😳 tis getting a lil much no? I appreciate all your comments! I see them all and giggle while kicking my feet. I wont be able to reply to them cuz when it gets to tagging people- it gets confusing!!! also pls make sure your mentions are on like this

or else I wont be able to tag u!!!!

#jjk #choso kamo #choso my beloved #choso x reader #jjk choso #choso x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen choso #jujutsu kaisen #emo choso #college au #non course au #sfw jjk

[notiddygxthgf]

❛ Talk to me, baby. I'm goin' blind from this sweet, sweet craving, whoa-oh. Let's lose our minds and go fucking crazy. I-I-I-I-I-I keep on hoping we'll eat cake by the ocean. ❜

★ pairings: choso kamo x f!reader

★ synopsis: you and choso find a way to beat the heat.

★ c.w.: sexual tension, PWP, porn without plot, happy ending! au?, idk everyone's happy lol, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, cowgirl in the backseat, creampie, blowjobs, choso has mommy issues lowkey, and the reader caters to them lowkey. dom/sub undertones, choso doesnt know how to deal with his horniness lol, old fashioned, nasty ass sex, just read it you'll love it.

★ a/n: hi baby girls!! I have been holding onto this one for a MINUTE bc I wanted to make sure it's perfect. im doin a lil bit of a kinktober, so send those requests in! I hope u all love it as much as I do. bitchz w mommy issues wya???🗣️🗣️

★ w.c.; 8.6k

masterlist

CHOSO LOVED THE BEACH. Not for the reason one might normally proclaim such affection for an otherwise family-friendly pastime, but it was a valid reason nevertheless. He used to hate it, actually, especially when Getou and Mahito would drag him out there on the hottest day of the summer for their stupid villain conventions. He was quite comfortable at home in all of his layers. But there was something about the beach these days, something that had him reconsidering his bias. 

Call him classless, call him perverted. Whatever it was, there was this strange pull towards the beach that had him in a chokehold. He just couldn’t quite place it.

“You’re staring,” Megumi remarked.

Choso’s brow quirked. Letting his head loll to the side, teetering just off the edge of his beach chair, he offered the following words to his brother’s friend. “No, I wasn’t.”

He totally was. The way his sun glasses slid down the bridge of his nose as you walked past the two was a dead giveaway. But, shit, you looked too good to be true. You were this pretty little thing, strutting around in a pretty pink bikini, soaking in the rays of sunlight, and you were bringing a drink to your friend, Maki. Looked like a lemonade. Also looked like booze. It could have been anything, in all honesty, he wasn’t looking there. 

If there was a god out there, he hoped they would forgive him for his ravenous gaze. He had always had a little thing for you, if you will, but the moment you had walked onto the beach today he found himself completely enamored by you.

As you bent down to set the drink in the sand, the bottom of your small pink bikini slipped inward, revealing the smooth, sand-dusted skin of your plump little butt. Then you plopped down on the beach towel next to your friend and popped open the bottle of sunscreen.

Choso watched – rather shamelessly – as you sprayed some of it onto you arm, rubbing it in. You held the canister towards your chest at arms length and released some more of the sheer spray onto the skin there. It trickled down, catching the light of the sun, dripping down between your breasts–

A pair of hairy, pale legs obstructed the view. 

“Found a sand dollar,” Spoke none other than the world’s quirkiest little brother, Yuuji Itadori. In a rather fitting slow-pan up to his face, Choso took note of the dorky goggles that he had popped over his eyes. He was shirtless. You would think that the man would have learned that you don’t need to go deep sea diving at the beach by now. “You guys coming?”

Megumi took the words right out of Choso’s mouth. Or, actually, ‘word’ might be more fitting. 

“No.”

“I’ll pass,” Choso sighed, repositioning his sunglasses over his eyes. Silently, of course, he cursed his brother for putting on such a show in front of – what was he talking about? Choso Kamo… letting his desires cloud his love for his brother? He usually wasn’t this bad. “I thought I threw those out on you?”

“I bought new ones,” Yuuji muttered. He practically tore the goggles from his face, sending locks of pink hair standing up in the air. Tossing them to the side, he plopped between Megumi and Choso on the picnic blanket.

“Of course you did,” Megumi, who had, for a brief – but beautiful – moment been alluded into believing his friend had decided to keep his remarkable lack of social awareness to himself, reached into the cooler they had filled earlier that day and produced a much needed refreshment. 

“Hi!”

Choso, Yuuji and Megumi all turned their heads toward the sound.

It was you. His ‘crush’, as Yuuji had embarrassingly called it. And, shit, you looked even prettier up close. Your hair looked so soft. So did your–

He shook the thoughts away. 

“Sorry to bother ‘ya,” You lowered your head apologetically. You extended your arm out towards the three men. Clutched in your small hand was the bottle of sunscreen you had been using before Yuuji had caught Choso’s attention. “My friend is out cold. Could you just get my back for me?”

Choso felt his face grow red at the mere prospect of being so close to you. He had never had the courage to actually reach out and touch you. He felt as if, for some odd reason he didn’t quite understand, his touch would have killed you. You had always been so sweet to him, offering him small talk, refreshments, and friendly jokes when it was just the two of you away from the group.

“Not a problem, Sensei,” Yuuji replied rather quickly. 

He reached for the bottle. Before he could grab it, Megumi jabbed his elbow harshly into the back of Yuuji’s neck.

“Bitch, ow,” He hissed.

The glare Megumi shot him could have been heard from ten miles away. Choso sighed, refraining from shaking his head.

“I think he’s sick. I’ll bring him to the infirmary,” Megumi added quietly, standing up rather abruptly and taking Yuuji with him. 

Yuuji babbled mindlessly the whole way back.

Highschoolers.

Choso looked back to you. Just you. Alone. He felt his hands get all clammy again. He blamed it on the sun. You were holding the bottle expectantly. 

“Uh… I can… I can help, if you’re okay with that,” He looked away, internally kicking himself for fumbling so hard. 

You only tilted your head at him. Your eyes were so pretty, wide open as they lingered over his body, his eyes, his nose. Your gaze was a wildfire spreading over the expanse of his face.

It was then that he realized he was very, very shirtless.

“‘Kay, thanks,” you smiled softly.

As you laid down on the beach blanket, Choso felt his heart race even faster. He could hardly believe this was all happening – hell, part of him wondered if he had overstepped by offering his services to you. The sun beat down on your skin, his head, the sand – he blamed the warmth flooding his face on the weather. 

You were laid on your stomach only a few inches away, completely oblivious to his moral dilemma. 

He took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself while he reached for the bottle of sunscreen you had set onto the blanket beside you. With hands that trembled ever-so-slightly, he uncapped the bottle and squeezed a small amount onto his palm. The sunscreen was cool to the touch – so, not wanting to cause you even the slightest bit of discomfort, he warmed it up between his hands.

He then hesitantly placed his hands on the smooth valley of your upper back. 

You gasped, twitching beneath his palms. 

“Did I hurt you?” He asked quickly, withdrawing his hands.

“No, sorry,” You sighed, shifting on the blanket and then relaxing once more. “Your hands are cold ‘s all.”

Choso felt the blush coming on all over again. He hoped you wouldn’t turn your head back around and see him like this. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, averting his gaze. 

“You’re all good, hot stuff,” You offered. “You can keep going.”

His face burned like hell at your compliment. He knew you were that way with everyone, dropping little ‘babe’s and ‘honey’s to your friends and fellow sorcerers. He wasn’t anything special, anyway. Surely, you weren’t talking to him.

He replaced his hands on your back, touch delicate like your skin would crack if he pressed too hard. He started with broad strokes, making sure to spread the sunscreen across your skin evenly. His fingers splayed out over your warm, soft skin, moving in circles. He massaged the sunscreen into your back with a tenderness that surprised even himself.

He wasn’t sure what this stuff actually did. He had seen some of Yuuji’s Jujutsu friends slather some on earlier. Judging by the name, he assumed it protected them from the sun. From what, though? Could the sun hurt some humans? He didn’t really understand.

“You’re wondering something,” You asked, seemingly sensing his pensiveness by the way his hands slowed. “Ask away.”

Choso bit the skin on the inside of his lip, “This lotion…” he asked, “What does it do?”

“Sunscreen?” You hummed. “It forms a layer over your skin so you don’t get sunburnt.”

“Sunburnt…” He reiterated. 

“Yeah, that shit hurts,” You added. “I’m guessing Itadori never gave you the run-up on beach necessities…?”

“I guess not,” He remarked quietly.

“I can show you how to apply yours if you want,” You said.

Choso’s heart felt like it would burst. “Okay,” he said, pausing slightly. “I’d like that, thanks.”

Then he was back to his job. His hands smoothed over your back, dipping down a little lower until his thumb brushed against the strap of your bikini. He felt suddenly aware of how soft and warm you felt beneath his touch. 

He was dangerously close to the knot in the string that held your whole getup together. He worried for a moment that the dainty bow would come undone – by some strange, supernatural turn of events – despite him making a great effort to move around it. 

Choso’s breath hitched when his finger caught on the string, making the knot snap against your skin. He froze up, heart pounding in his chest, perfectly still over your body. The string felt like a fragile barrier between your warm skin and his cold touch, between your body and the thoughts that raced through his mind.

He wondered if you found him weird and off-putting. His gaze flickered up to your face, leaning over slightly, searching your face for any sign of discomfort. 

But when he looked into your eyes, he found you were looking at him with the same curiosity. You smiled at him, pretty lips forming a reassuring expression, wordlessly encouraging him to keep going. 

Slowly, unsurely, Choso continued his ministrations. He trailed two digits down your spine, stopping at the string. He felt a knot beneath the skin there. He knew sorcerers put themselves through rigorous training. He didn’t doubt that you were feeling sore from the mission you had just come back from a few days ago.

“You’re tense here,” He said quietly.

You turned your head to look at him, “Yeah?” 

“Right here,” He pinpointed the exact area with his knuckles, pressing deep into the tissue. 

In response, you moaned quietly, back shifting beneath his touch. His shorts seemed to get just a little bit tighter. 

Calm down.

“You got magic hands, Choso,” You quipped, though your voice was strained as he passed over the knot a second time. “You could be a masseuse.”

He felt his nerves subside only slightly, though he felt flustered by your words.

You got magic hands.

You could be a masseuse.

Unbeknownst to him, the sensation of his touch created a pleasant tingling beneath your skin. You closed your eyes, letting him take the reins.

Choso continued to work his fingers over your back, feeling the tension slowly melt away beneath his touch. He had used up the last of the sunscreen to cover your lower back, the skin just above your bottom, and he realized his job was done.

“I think that should do it,” He said softly, voice tinged with reluctance as he removed his hands from your back.

You sat up, stretching, turning towards him, eyes sparkling, “Thanks, Cho, you’re a lifesaver.”

You’re a lifesaver.

A shy smile tugged at his lips, “Of course.”

Then, to his surprise, you asked. “You’re sweet. Mind if I sit with you?”

Choso felt his heart skip more than one beat. His eyes widened. He looked at the sand, the shoreline, anything but you. “Sure,” he said.

Smooth, dumbass.

You grinned and pushed yourself up, saying, “I’ll be right back.”

Choso took a moment to collect his thoughts as you left. He was getting ahead of himself. Way ahead of himself. Stll, you had chosen to spend more time with him. You wanted to sit with him. 

Conveniently, only a brief moment after you had stepped away, Megumi returned with Yuuji in tow. Choso quirked a brow at the speed of their return.

“That was quick,” he remarked.

Megumi shrugged, “Took him to get ice cream on the boardwalk instead.”

“You get her number?” Yuuji asked.

“I was doing her a favor,” Choso’s calm facade broke. With wide eyes, he hissed, “Pervert.”

“Dumbass,” Yuuji sucked his teeth.. “Look, tonight’s the night to make a move. When else would you find yourself alone with her like this?”

And before Choso could respond, you came back, holding a speaker in one hand. “I brought snacks!” You smiled.

Some time around sundown, sometime after Getou had summoned up one of his low-grade curses to start a fire, the beach day transformed itself into a fireside chat. It was a picturesque scene. The sky was a canvas of blue, with hues of pink and orange painted over the horizon. It was mostly empty there, now. The waves lapped calmly at the shore, a quiet noise that seemed to accompany the quiet chatter of friends gathered around a fire.

There was laughter, groups of people indulged in conversations. Everyone seemed so calm, so happy, it almost seemed to good to be true.

Megumi and Itadori were caught in a cock-off with Maki. Nobara stargazing on her and Maki’s beach blanket. Gojo and Getou were talking in his direction, but not necessarily at him.

“I just think you have an unfair drinking advantage because you’re a man,” You were saying just off to Choso’s side.

The mood was light. Everyone seemed to be content. 

Choso, however, couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from you. The warm, fading sunlight seemed to caress your features from the side, highlighting your pretty smile and making your eyes shimmer. He found himself completely and utterly enamored by you.

You and Getou had cracked open a bottle of Tequila about an hour ago. Getou’s boyfriend long-term-long-distance-low-commitment-casual-boyfriend, Satoru Gojo was red in the face, slouched against the bare chest revealed by Getou’s unbuttoned floral shirt. 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Gojo chuckled, letting Getou top off his fourth shot of the night.

Getou denied any relationship with Gojo. Their eyes betrayed them, though. The connection was evident in the loving glances they exchanged. 

You had a faint flush of your own, though you had only taken two shots so far.

He tried two of his own, only because you didn’t want to do them alone. He had never been big on drinking. He just didn’t want to seem like a pussy.

“Why don’t you pour me one so we can test that theory?” Nobara nudged you in the side.

Choso watched the scene unfold with mild interest.

“Because you’re a minor,” You said.

Nobara pouted, leaning back onto her blanket. “Not like I’ve never drank before.”

Maki chimed in over her shoulder, “Got vomit stains on my carpet to prove it.”

“Shut up,” She bit back. 

You handled the situation effortlessly. “I don’t condone teen drinking,” You began, your voice softening as you continued, “But. I know the four you will probably go hit up one of those beachside bars tonight with your fake IDs anyway.”

“Fake IDs?” Gojo looked at Megumi out of the corner of his eye. Megumi did not look back.

You clapped. Choso’s ears perked up at the sound.

“That being said!” You raised your voice a bit. “I would rather you drink something less potent. Under adult supervision.”

You turned to Getou and Gojo, who exchanged knowing glances before nodding their approval. Choso couldn’t help but be impressed.

“So who wants a Malibu rum spritzer?” You clasped your hands together.

Excitement rippled through the group, and all of the kids, yes all of the kids, Including Yuuji, eagerly raised their hands. 

Choso shot his brother a disapproving glare, one that dissipated the moment you leaned in, laying your head on his shoulder. Your voice, soft and smooth like your skin, enticed him as you sing-songed, “Let the kid live a little.”

It was rather remarkable, actually, how quickly his defenses melted at your gentle persuasion. He sighed in resignation. “Alright.”

You grinned up at him, effortlessly stealing his breath away. 

“Great,” you said, getting up from your spot without another word. “I’ll go get them from my car. Don’t wait up for me, I walk real slow.”

Turning your attention back to Choso, you looked at him with a warmth behind your gaze he couldn’t quite place. “Choso, sweetie, could you help me carry the cooler?”

His heart soared at your request – at the prospect of you wanting his assistance. He got to his feet quickly, eager to help. 

The sand felt cool beneath his feet as he followed your lead. 

The moon hung low in the sky as you and Choso strolled through the parking lot, searching for your jeep. The temperature had dropped quite a few notches from earlier, cold breeze rustling through Choso’s hair. 

When you spotted your ride, you said, “There it is!”

Choso followed wordlessly behind you. He was still quite nervous that – for the second time today – it was just you and him… alone. Yuuji’s words echoed through his mind.

“When else would you find yourself alone with her like this?”

You popped the door to the backseat open, sitting on the floor – your truck was raised a bit off the ground, so it didn’t put you too far below him. 

“My legs are so fucking sore,” You sighed. You dusted your leg off with the backside of your bare foot. When you peered up at him through those long, dense lashes of yours, he felt himself fall for you a second time. 

You asked him, “Mind if we take a little break?”

Choso nodded along like the dumb little dog he was for you.

You pushed yourself up and away from the truck, gesturing for him to get inside. It didn’t take much at all for him to step into it and take a seat. You settled in right next to him – perhaps a little closer to Choso than was strictly necessary. He couldn’nt help the pleasant shiver that went down his spine at the feeling of you sitting next to him; so warm, so soft, so perfect.

You let out a contented sigh and leaned your head on his shoulder once more. “I got tired of bein’ social,” You confessed.

He tried hard not to quirk a brow at the admission. Am I an exception?

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” He asked sincerely. He tried even harder to ignore the warm weight of your small head on his shoulder.

So close.

“No,” You hummed quietly. The interior light faded away, gently submerging the two of you in darkness. He could still see your face, your eyes – the way they seemed to sparkle as they looked up at him. “You’re different.”

Choso’s heart took the liberty of skipping one, two, three beats. 

You continued without allowing him time to come up with an adequate response. “Can I be honest with you, Choso?”

His cheeks flushed. Still, curiosity piqued, he muttered, “Of course.”

Your voice was soft and vulnerable when you replied, “I think you’re really hot.”

If his face wasn’t hot, it sure was now. He turned away even though he knew you couldn’t see him blushing. 

She thinks I’m hot?

Does that mean she likes me?

You had nothing but sincerity in your eyes while you gazed up at him. “You feel the same way, don’t you?”

He bit his tongue, answering honestly, “I do.”

He hated how calm and collected he sounded. On the outside, he was the image of composure. On the inside, he was dying a hundred times over. 

You grinned at his admission. “Can I ask you something else, then?”

His lips suddenly felt very dry. He tried his best to focus on the street outside, counting landmarks and objects like his life depended on it – two seagulls, five wooden posts, two dim street lights.

“Sure,” he said.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked. “I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

And, dammit, when you asked him like that – he could practically feel the last of his resolve crumble beneath your gaze, beneath the weight of your head on his shoulder, beneath your gentle touch on his knee that he hadn’t noticed until now.

You were so close. So close that if he turned his head, angled it down just slightly, your noses would touch. He felt your breath, warm and steady against his neck – a calming symphony that contrasted the trembling mess he had become,

Yuuji’s words played on repeat again. Tonight’s the night to make a move.

He was such a fool for you. Still, he considered himself to be a man of restraint.

His voice was small and scarce, hardly above a whisper when he breathed out, “Yeah.”

Time seemed to slow down as your request hung out in the air. He could feel the anticipation building, buzzing. His heart pounded against his ribcage like a mallet to a gong. He had spent months wondering what would happen if you – by some odd, small chance – returned his affections, and now, with your vulnerability laid bare, he couldn’t resist any longer.

He considered himself to be a man of restraint, that was, until he peered into your wide, longingful eyes. 

With a barely noticeable nod, Choso turned his head just slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. Just as he had anticipated, your noses brushed together – he could feel the warmth of your breath on his lips. 

You were magnetic.

And in that final, heart-pounding moment, your lips met in the middle – in a gentle, tender union. Choso’s hand seemed to find its own way to your cheek, touch soft as he cupped your cheek. He felt for some odd reason that you might vanish altogether if he let you go.

He wasn’t entirely sure if it had been you or him who deepened the kiss. Either way, he felt himself melt into the seat. The world outside seemed to fade away, ceasing to exist in your presence. None of it mattered – not the empty, public street, not the group of friends waiting on the beach for his return.

Yuuji. 

Choso pulled away with a shuddering gasp, pressing his forehead against yours. He licked his lips, panting, “The drinks… We– we should probably– uh… get those.”

He feared that if his heart beat any faster he would explode.

You made no effort to put any distance between you and him. In fact, you put your hands on his shoulders, moving yourself so that you were situated comfortably in his lap. 

“There’s no rush,” You hummed. “Getou and Gojo are probably off sucking face somewhere, and those kids have been keeping themselves entertained just fine. Who would notice?”

His eyes were everywhere but your face. For a half-curse, he found himself to be no better than a man, hungry eyes wandering over your body – your eyes, your lips, the subtle curve of your waist, the fabric of your bikini that seemed like it was hugging you just right.

You seemed to have caught him in the act. 

“Do you wanna touch me, Choso?” You asked, and it sounded like an invitation.

Still, he worried he was reading too deeply into things. Doing his best to refrain from making you feel any sort of discomfort, he swallowed, “I…”

He was about to fucking explode – both metaphorically and physically, judging by the way his shorts began to tighten again at your words.

“You think I didn’t see you staring today?” You continued, letting your fingers slip into his hair. 

He wanted to freeze up, wanted to feel some form of remorse, but when you were massaging his scalp so gently, so lovingly…

“I’m  sorry,” he lied.

“Don’t be,” You giggled, and he felt his stomach do a fucking flip at the sound of it. You leaned in close to him, close to his ear, and whispered into it, “I was staring, too.”

He felt like such a virgin, thighs tensing up at your admission. He thought of you on the beach again – sneaking sideways glances at him, at his body, at him…

He felt his resolve break when you pressed a soft kiss to the shell of his ear. 

“Kiss– Kiss me again,” he breathed, feeling slightly lightheaded from all of the attention you were giving him. You placed another kiss to the corner of his jaw. “Please… kiss me again.”

You pulled away, pressing your nose right up against his again. Your breaths were shallow and ragged now – strange. “You want me, baby boy?”

Baby boy. Baby boy, fuck.

He licked his lips, “Please.”

And then your lips were on his without so much as another word. You ate him up like a starved woman, teeth nipping at his lower lip for entry.

The last of his restraint flew out the window.

The kiss was electrifying, sent sparks shooting through his veins, fingertips tingling as they found their way to your hips. It was a wildfire, consuming everything in its path. He could taste you – the sweetness of your lipgloss as it smeared messily over the lower half of his face, the beat of your heart thrumming beneath his touch, the scent of sunscreen that lingered on your skin.

He found himself getting lost in the moment.

He deepened the kiss further, gripping your hips, your lower back with a bit more confidence. For a moment, he could forget about his responsibilities, his past. It didn’t matter; not now, not when he could feel your body pressed up against him, hot and soft and compliant.

His face burned when he felt that familiar tingling feeling – he knew he was getting hard beneath you, he could feel the way your hips lifted when you adjusted yourself over the tent in his shorts. 

However, to his surprise, you didn’t pull away. Instead, you pressed into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing yourself even closer. He felt dizzy, sliding his tongue across your wet lips, exploring your mouth. You tangled your fingers in his touseled black locks, rolling your hips against his slowly, hesitantly, like you were testing the waters. 

The jolt of electricity he felt from that small movement had him pulling away. Even in the midst of the fervor, Choso was acutely aware of his own impulses. He feared he was getting too far ahead of himself; if you kept rubbing yourself against him like that, he was gonna cream his fucking pants like a middle schooler.

“Wait, wait– ah–” He grunted, leaning back against the seat.

“Hmm?” You hummed – still, you only slowed down a little bit.

His mouth hung open. It felt so good, the friction, the feeling of your warmth rolling up and down the thin layer of fabric separating the two of you. Fuck — why did he tell you to stop, again?

He fought hard to regain his composure. “I– I’ve never done this before,” he stammered.

“Really?” You asked, teasingly, almost, like you knew the effect you had on him. You rutted up against him again, a little harder. “You’re a natural.”

He could feel you – the thin cloth covering your nether regions left little to the imagination. You felt so warm, so welcoming. He ached to pull the thin fabric to the side and sink into you.

Fuck. Stop. He turned his head away, at war with his impulses.

Again, for a half-curse, he felt like nothing more than a man. A weak man, and it was all your fault.

The whine that left his mouth felt anything but natural. “Won’t– What if someone sees us?”

You said nothing. When he looked back at you, you were undoing the knot behind your head – the one holding your bikini together.

His eyes went wide. If his attraction to you were any more obvious, his jaw would have been on the floor. 

“Let them watch,” You grinned. Then you let your top fall over, breasts spilling out like something out of a porno. 

He was in awe. You were perfect. There were little bits of sand stuck to the skin where your bikini lay only seconds prior, faint tanlines already forming over your skin. He felt his mouth water.

“You can touch them, if you want,” You answered his unasked question.

And he wasted no time, gently cupping one of your tits with his large, warm palm. He gave it an experimental squeeze. Then another. Then his thumb wandered down to your nipple, giving the bud a gentle flick.

You whind, hand sliding up the back of his head. 

She likes that, he noted.

So, deciding to take his experiment a step further – and for the sake of conserving time, he began peppering kisses to your hot skin, to the valley between your soft, plush mounds. He held both in his hands, rolling his thumb over the hardened buds to compensate for the lack of attention.

He wanted nothing more than to take his sweet, precious time with you – committing every curve and valley of your body to memory. But, alas, he knew you were on a time crunch. Any minute now, someone could find the two of you here, like this.

He kissed his way back over to his hands. Then, finally, he wrapped his lips around that place he knew made you feel good. 

Sure enough, you arched into him, pink, swollen lips parting to release a pant of his name, “Choso, baby.”

He flattened his tongue over the tip of your nipple, rolling over it in slow circles – then quicker ones, until he felt the spit gathering between his lips and your skin. You responded in kind by rutting against him a little faster. He had never felt a burn quite so delightful in his life.

He can’t quite help himself from letting out a little whine when you tug on his hair. The flavor of sunscreen and salt lingered on your skin. He felt hot– you were hot, oh so hot.

Before he could return the favor on the other nipple, you pushed him away. You looked disheveled, pupils blown wide, hair frizzed up.

“Y’feel so big,” You gasped, still humping his hard cock like a dog in heat. You stopped, but only to sink into the space between his legs and the back of the driver’s seat. Splaying your fingers over his thighs, his shorts, you panted, “Wanna taste. Can I?”

He could only blink up at you. This isn’t real.

“Of course, baby,” He replied, throwing the nickname from earlier back at you, already reaching for the strings of his swim trunks when you batted his hands away. Your enthusiasm made his head spin.

He let you take the reigns – watching with hungry, lustful eyes as you undid the bow yourself. You reached for the waistband of his shorts, tugging them down and letting his dick spring free. 

It nearly hit you in the face, how big the thing was. He had never actually thought about it that way, at least, not until now, when you were gazing up at it with wide eyes and wet, parted lips. 

Your eyes were on his tip, glistening with a bead of precum, then wandering down the shaft as the two of you watched it drip.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked.

You didn’t bother pulling his pants the rest of the way down, or even acknowledging his comment. No, the moment the waistband was out of the way, you were swallowing him whole.

Choso exhaled sharply, nearly doubling over at the sensation of your warm mouth closing in around him. He felt the muscles in his abdomen tense with the strain of it – he thought he could cum like this, with your lips stretched around him, and he didn’t really think he would mind testing that theory.

His skin was hot. He burned for you.

You pulled up. Sucking him back into your mouth, you hollowed your cheeks. Then you throated him again, right up until your nose brushed his navel. He felt himself throb in your mouth.

“Fuck, ‘s good,” He heard himself whimper weakly, tangling a trembling hand in your hair while you picked up the pace.

And you went at it like you were made for it. Up and down, up and down, fitting him all the way in until the head of his cock bumped the back of your throat. Over and over again, until his vision blurred a bit at the edges, mind a little hazy with lust.

You were sucking and slurping on him so lewdly – fuck, he could die like this. 

You didn’t show any signs of stopping, either.

He moaned – much to his embarrassment – actually moaned. You were working him rather quickly up to what he knew would be an earth shattering (albeit poorly timed) orgasm. 

You made a noise in response, though it was broken up by the nasty, dirty sound you made every time you gagged on his dick. You peered up at him through half-lidded eyes, through long, wispy lashes, leaving a trail of saliva running down his thighs that he didn’t even mind.

Choso caressed the side of your face, biting his lip. “Mmh,” he panted, “You do it so well.”

In response, you put a hand over his. You directed his gentle touch to the top of your head, instructing him to push down. Hesitantly, gently, he began to guide your head, bobbing you back and forth on his length while you sat back and let him use you. 

He noticed that you were struggling to fit the whole thing in your mouth. He saw that there were tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but he knew you were determined. He used his thumb to wipe your tears away, tucking your hair behind your ears to keep it out of your face.

With a shudder and a whine, he pushed your head down a little further. You gagged on it again, swallowing him down, tightening your throat around him like you were made to suck dick.

If this was to be his last night alive, he would die a happy man.

His legs felt weak, as did his arms. You took over, gently assisting him in fucking your mouth. 

“Ah– nnh, you’re–” He licked his lips, guiding your head while allowing you to continue setting your own pace. You were making him feel so good, so hot.

You pulled back for a moment to slurp unceremoniously on his tip, letting spit drip down his shaft. You wrapped your hands around him, working what you couldn’t fit into your mouth while your tongue did tricks on his tip – circles, shapes, letters, he didn’t even know anymore.

He felt like he was going dumb.

Just as he leaned his head back into the seat, you pulled off, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“Got carried away,” You giggled breathlessly. “Sorry.”

Then you were climbing right back into his lap, bracing your hands on his shoulders, kissing him with a ravenous hunger. 

“I’m not gonna blue ball you, don’t worry,” You licked your lips. Reaching down, you slipped the fabric of your bikini thong to the side. “I want you.”

“H–...” He trailed off, fighting to catch his breath – better yet, to regain his surroundings. “How do you want me?”

In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to feel you sink down onto him, to feel your warmth envelop him entirely. He wanted you to ride him past the point of hypersensitivity. He wanted you to use him until you were satisfied – like some sort of fuck toy.

He didn’t care anymore. He had left his inhibitions at the door. 

“Wanna fuck you right here, like this,” You muttered against his lips, licking a stripe from his chin all the way to his cupid’s bow. You guided the head of his dick between your folds, smearing your slick all over him in a way that made him arch up. “Wanna drain that pretty cock of yours, wanna cum all over it– can you do that for me?”

You were so nasty… so dirty that he found himself a red, blushing mess at your words. But, still…

For you?

Anything.

“Yes,” he groaned. He felt like he was going to melt if he waited another moment longer. “Fuck, please, use me until you’re satisfied.”

He hadn’t even thought about saying it. It had slipped out.

You paused, blinking down at him with wide, lustful eyes. Finally, you said, “you’re such a good puppy, you know that?”

He would be whatever the hell you wanted him to be.

“G’nna let me ride you, pretty boy?” You cooed, sliding your hands up his torso, up his bare chest, up his shoulders while you hovered over him. 

This was moving quickly. Not like he had any objections to that, of course. Clearly, you didn’t either. As you positioned the tip in line with your dripping cunt, sinking down onto him, he felt his eyes roll back into his head.

He gasped, letting his eyelids fall shut. He didn’t even care that he was losing his virginity in the backseat of his coworker’s truck like some cheap whore. He would let you take it, take more, take everything you wanted from him.

You lifted your hips and then sank down on him again, eliciting a strangled grunt of your name from him. The filthy squelching sound your cunt made as it squeezed him in threw him for a loop.

He leaned forward, shivering, burning his head in your neck. “S’too tight,” he panted, though he let you continue working on him with a remarkable amount of ease – sliding back and forth in a way that had the both of you panting for more. “Fucking– shit, ah–”

“Chosooo– ‘S so big,” You moaned his name like it was made of honey, fucking yourself down onto his dick, letting all of the sinful noises flow from your lips. “Fuck, feel it in my guts.”

He would have thought you were lying to him if it weren’t for your spectacle earlier.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he breathed. When he looked up at you again, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. You were the image of pornographic beauty – sinful, beautiful, sultry. Your brows were scrunched together with concentration, legs trembling around him as you slowed down to savor the way he worked you open.

“Pretty baby,” He mused, running his hands over your stomach, your hips. “You keep goin’ like that ‘n– fuck– I won’t– Last long.”

“Mmh,” you giggled.

Then you picked up the speed a bit, like you hadn’t even heard what he had just said. You were rising and sinking on his dick with newfound purpose, chasing after the promise of paradise like a wild animal.

“Look at me,” he begged, eyes half-lidded and desperate, tongue running across his lower lip. “Fu-uck– please, ‘M...”

You obeyed, meeting his gaze with such a fiery passion that he almost wished he hadn’t asked you – feeling that coil in his gut grow a little tighter when your hazy eyes were on him. You bounced obediently on his cock, up and down, up and down until you were a grunting, groaning mess. 

“Mm… fuckkk,” You sighed, hips faltering a bit. “Feels good, Choso.”

Choso felt his hips twitch beneath you, hands tensing on your backside. Then, slowly, he began to meet your thrusts midway. His ass lifted off of the seat, legs spreading a bit further apart while he used his strength to continue fucking you senseless.

He was mesmerized by you, by the way you clenched and squeezed him, by the way your mouth lolled open to make way for broken cries of his name, by the way your tits bounced in his face whenever he thrusted up into you.

He worried for a moment that he was being too harsh with you. 

“Harder– please!” You gasped, clawing at his shoulders, at his chest.

Still, he obeyed. He fucked you dumb, hips snapping up against your ass with such strength that the whole car lurched forward. Your head came dangerously close to the ceiling.

But he didn’t have the guts to stop. Not when you were screaming for him, repeating his name like some sort of mantra. He was as weak for you as he had always been.

“Choso– Choso–”

The feeling of your warm, wet walls massaging the head of his cock had him whimpering into the crook of your neck. It was a hot, gummy abyss he wouldn’t mind getting sucked into for the remainder of his life. 

“You like that?” He asked you, spare hand sliding up from your hips, past your breasts, to your neck. 

He knew now that you liked it rough. He could provide that. 

So, with no further warning, he gripped your hip roughly, sliding into you at full force. You cried out his name again, fingernails digging into his skin. 

The car bounced every time he pounded up into you. Faster, faster. 

It felt like you were squeezing him for dear life. 

Choso cried out, a broken whine as he slowed his thrusts for a minute to a much slower pace. Feeling your perfect pussy clenching around him, he nearly doubled over from the sudden pleasure. “Please,” he gasped, laying his head back. “Fuck, that’s good.”

You bit your lip, sliding up until it was just the tip left inside of you, and then slamming back down onto him at full force. You repeated this action a few more times, lips parted to make way for the sinful… sultry moans that passed from between them. Clearly, you were relishing in the way he squirmed and gasped beneath you.

He couldn’t blame you. He knew that he, too was doing everything he could to commit this scene to memory, wild eyes raking over your body, over the junction where you met him. The way you were riding him… shit, he didn’t know he would be able to make the walk back. 

You looked so obscene like this, all fucked out, dumb on his dick.

Throwing your head back, you groaned.

He was gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. Fuck, he knew that– cursed strength and all. But he couldn’t bring himself to slow down.

“So f-fucking good,” he stammered. He sought out your lips again, snapping his hips up against your ass mercilessly. For someone who had been so concerned about being discovered a little while ago, his quiet grunts and gasps turned into moans and whimpers against your sore lips. Louder and louder.

Admittedly, though, he was more focused on the noises coming out of your own mouth. You were practically screaming for him.

He had no idea that sex could even feel so mind-numbingly good. For him, especially, but for you…?

You froze up rather suddenly, hips spasming wildly, toes curling up on either side of his thighs while you gasped brokenly. 

“FUCK!”

There it was.

He felt his face burn. You cried his name again, bouncing up and down on it, wildly chasing after that high. “Choso– m’close–”

“You gonna cum, pretty girl?” He hummed, once again throwing your nickname back at you. He grinned, knowing full and well that he had cracked the code. So he kept that same speed, same pace, same everything while his fingers dropped from your neck to the mess you had made between the two of you.

He knew what to do now – surprisingly enough. He had done some… internet research after his brother had broken the meaning of his feelings down to him (along with what Choso was to do when his crush came to fruition). 

What? Curses didn’t make love. Sex was transactional.

He was curious about how sex was on the human side of things.

He ran his tongue over his thumb, reaching between the steamy, sweaty union of your bodies to find your clit. He pressed down, rolling over the nub in quick, expert circles. 

One look up at you, and he knew you were close to your breaking point. You looked like you were about to pass out, letting yourself be thrown around on his wild hips like a ragdoll. You were too weak to move, so you sat there and took his dick like a good girl, eyes glazed over with pleasure while he fucked you dumb.

You looked like you were in love.

Choso sped his ministrations over your clit up a little faster, feeling the knot in his own stomach begin to grow faster than he wanted. He was in another world, out of this plane, hypnotized. 

All he could see in that moment was your angelic face above him, face scrunched up in pleasure – and partially in pain, as he bullied his cock into your cervix – sweat rolling down your neck, your breasts, your voluptuous body.

“Mine–” You gasped out, clawing at his shoulder blades while your back arched. “Oh– fuck! Th’s dick ‘s mine, mmh?”

It was.

He nodded. But, clearly, that wasn’t good enough. Your hand shot out to grip him by the neck, painted fingernails digging into his throat. 

“‘S yours,” He gasped back into your mouth. “All yours, I swear– ah–”

You were so hot. It made him feel things– feel like he was dying over and over again in the best way possible.

That along with the way your hand gripped his throat – using your small thumb to cut off his blood supply for a few seconds too long before loosening your grip, letting him gasp for air as the blood came rushing back – he felt lightheaded.

The way your pussy was spasming around him certainly didn’t do anything to help. He knew you were close, shit, but could you hold on a minute?

You were gonna make him cum too fast.

“You’re mine, yeah?” You asked again, keeping your grip strong on his neck. “All mine?”

“M’yours,” The cursed womb grunted against your neck. His brows were furrowed in concentration. His teeth nipped at the sensitive skin, careful not to leave marks. “All yours.”

He meant it. Even though he would have said anything you asked him to at this point, he really meant it. He hoped you knew that.

Judging by the way you came a moment later with a stutter of your hips and a strangled cry of, “Cho–”, he assumed you understood. 

Your cunt was a warm, wet, death trap, walls milking his cock for all it was worth. 

Shit, he thought. You really weren’t lying about that.

His dark eyes were burning into yours, burning with a desire so intense he felt he might burst at the seams if he kept looking a moment longer. 

“Want you to cum inside of me,” You commanded him, holding his head in your trembling hands. “Fill me up, please, I need it.”

His eyes widened, blinking down at the white ring you had made around the base of his dick. His eyes flitted back up to you, pleading with you to let him go. Pleading for you to give the soul that you stole from him back,

“I can’t–” he released a trembling breath.  

He thought of himself as a father raising a child. Right now, it didn’t seem so bad.

“Please, ‘m on the pill,” you begged him, gazing into his eyes like you knew he wasn’t strong enough to refuse. “Wanna feel it dripping out of me. Think about it– what– ah– what would they think? … If they knew–”

You gasped when he delivered a harsh smack to your ass, slowing his strokes so that he could savor the way you sucked him in. “If they knew we snuck off to fuck? That– that I had your cum dripping out of me while they ask what took us so long?”

“Fuckk,” Choso groaned, hips trembling beneath you. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, cheeks burning. His breaths – and yours – had fogged the windows up.

You squeezed around him one more time, placing a tender kiss to his lips. You muttered into his mouth, “Do it f’me… please, Choso.”

“Mmh–!” And that was all it took. Choso rolled his hips up into you one more time, twitching, whining, feeling your warmth spasm around him as he spilled into you. He drove as deep up into you as he could – holding onto you for dear life while the coil snap, and he came so hard that his legs gave out. Lots of it. 

So much that he felt it drip out.

You sought another kiss from him, sealing your lips together. When you pulled away, you giggled, “Good boy. Good puppy.”

“God,” he shuddered, falling back against the headrest once his orgasm subsided. You fell against his chest, snuggling up to him.

And Choso, not knowing what else to do, pressed a kiss to the top of your head. To his surprise, you didn’t immediately leave him in the dust. Instead, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, basking in the warmth of your post-coital bliss. 

You broke the silence after a minute or two. 

“So…” You began, trailing a finger up his bare chest. “Help me carry that cooler back to the beach?”

And Choso, breathless, felt himself begin to laugh.

The two of you came back onto the beach. Choso was carting the cooler behind while you walked ahead, waving your friends down. 

As you approached, Itadori remarked with crossed arms, “The hell have you guys been?” His hair was done up into two, pink, little pigtails. It was clear as day that Nobara had a hand in his current hairstyle.

“Oh!” You had grinned rather awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck with your hand. “We– Well, we realized we didn’t have as many spritzers as I thought. Had to make a run to the liquor store.”

Itadori raised a brow. Still, if he noticed something, he didn’t say anything about it. “Uh huh.”

Choso bent down to set the cooler onto the ground, back turned to the group.

Getou peeped up from his paperback novel, lips twitching at the sight of Choso’s back. He nudged his counterpart, Gojo.

Who nearly spat out his drink.

You sat on the beach blanket nearest to Gojo and Getou. The moment your butt hit the sand, you practically collapsed into the ground. 

You could feel eyes on you. So, begrudgingly, you rolled over, throwing Satoru a weak glare. “What?”

He only nodded towards Choso.

You turned around, following his gaze. It settled over his back. He bent down, picking a few spritzers out of the ice. It was then that you noticed the harsh red claw marks on his shoulderblades. 

Subconsciously, your gaze drifted down to your hips, to the skin where purple imprints of Choso’s fingertips stood out as clear as day.

You gasped, then, clamping a hand over your mouth.

“So,” Gojo began casually, handing you a shot. He leaned in, ocean blue eyes twinkling as he teased you, “Was he gentle? He seems like he would give it rough.”

You turned to his not-boyfriend, brows furrowed. “Suguruuu…”

It was with no great amount of satisfaction that Getou looked up from his novel. “Satoru,” he sighed languidly. “Not in front of ths kids.”

Gojo ignored his not-boyfriend’s remark. “Was it big?”

You sank back into the blanket, feeling the heat of your embarrassment burn your cheeks as your words from earlier came back to bite you in the ass.

Who would notice?

a/n: hello there my precious little sugarplums! I hope u enjoyed the first installment of my kinktober writings ( which will prob continue throughout the fall bc I started hella late ). send in requests! there's no part two to this, but I would write one if enough ppl requested it. yk the drill though, comment ur thoughts/wishes below! I love reading them. reblogs are alway always always appreciated bc my reach is ass on Tumblr...

I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

credits: cover artist(s) unknown??, dividers: @bpdier, @cafekitsune

taglist: @missphanosaur18 , @bontensbabygirl, @megumissunshine, @chocoyanchan, @littlelovebug98, @lucisimpongod, @xochyw, @jaegerstan222 , @electro-supremacy, @mellytheteddy, @clover0310 , @soraya-daydreams, @priussy, @insanehumantinker, @staygoldsquatchling02, @nonksity, @hinata7346, @chososwhoresblog, @mindurownbussines , @hearts4sid , @simplefools , @ynjimenez

wanna join the taglist? | like this story? read more! | requests open!

#notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ #choso kamo #choso kamo x reader #kamo choso #kamo choso x reader #choso #choso jjk #choso x reader #choso fluff #choso smut #choso kamo smut #yuuji itadori #suguru getou #getou suguru #gojo satoru #nobara kugisaki #maki zenin #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader

[notiddygxthgf]

1/2

★ pairings: choso kamo x f!reader

★ synopsis: Yuuji Itadori truly was the best friend a girl like you could ask for, but he wasn't the only reason you came to visit. (His older brother, the devilishly handsome Choso Kamo, had always been the apple of your eye).

★ c.w.: slow burn, friends to lovers, eventual smut, childhood sweethearts, kinda, mutual pining, choso with a tongue piercing, rough sex, cunnilingus, backshots, unprotected sex, regular people au, two year age gap, PWP.

★ a/n: hi pookie dookies!! ive been wanting to write choso for a while!! this is a one shot I split into two chapters bc its like, 11k words.... but! if u guys request it, I might add more chapters!!! thank u for ur support as always, muah muah!! (btw if u like tokyo rev go check out my other shit teehee).

★ w.c.; 4.5k

best friend's brother ; chapter index

YUUJI ITADORI WAS truly the best friend a girl like you could ask for. The two of you were kind of like childhood friends, though you hadn’t been close for a good portion of it. You didn’t remember the exact day Itadori had invited you into his home – though you knew it was some time in elementary school. The two of you had been practically inseparable ever since. 

There was one thing about the pinkette’s home life in particular that seemed to catch your young eye. 

His older brother, Choso.

He was two years your senior – dark hair, dark eyes, he looked nothing like his brother. He had this scar over the bridge of his nose from an accident that had happened when he was younger. He was an elusive figure, something of a mystery to your young mind – he was always there, but never there.  

He was content to dwell in the background like some sort of side character. 

The first time you’d ever met him had been at one of Itadori’s baseball games. He’d invited you to show up – and at this point you had to have been no older than 8 or 9 – and show out for him. And show out you sure did. 

You had your mother do your hair up real nice in those cute little pigtails you used to love wearing. You had scribbled his jersey number onto a plain white tee the night before, donning some hot pink leggings beneath.

And you screamed for Itadori, cheered as loud as your little lungs would allow you to. He won, of course, but that’s not the point here. You’d gone up to him after the game, wrapping your short arms around his frame – and at the time he was no larger than you were – and telling him he’d done great. Itadori grinned at you, faint blush dusting his cheeks, and thanked you. His smile was a thousand suns in one.

A hand on his shoulder had shaken the two of you out of the moment. A bigger hand.

It was his 11-year-old adoptive brother, Choso Kamo. An angel of the darkness, as corny as that sounds, but in that moment you swore the gates of heaven resided in those dark eyes of his. He stood out against the bright backdrop of the September afternoon. The sunlight filtered through his short black hair, reflected off of his pale skin, shooting rays right into your stomach and sending a horde of butterflies fluttering.

“This your girlfriend, Yuuji?” He commented with a half-grin.

You remember turning red at his comment, waving your arms around wildly. You remember the way his eyes creased as he laughed at you, one of the few times you recall seeing him laugh.

So what if you had heart eyes for your best friend’s older brother? It was harmless, just a little crush you had formed on the guy you felt had stolen your heart away. Harmless. 

At least, it was until the two of you grew older. You started junior high, you started puberty , and as your body changed, so did his. So did your feelings, morphing from a butterfly crush to something more akin to desire as you began to see him in a different light.

He lost the baby fat around his face. His eyes had darkened, shoulders broadening. His hair got longer, falling into his boyish, scarred face in a way that rendered you entirely breathless. 

He was becoming a man.

You were 13 and 15 now, stealing sneaky glances at him whenever he would pass by his brother’s room. Yuji, who had just been boasting about how he was starting to get taller than you, would pay it no mind.

It was just a crush. He was two years your senior, after all. You had no chance.

You were 13 when he would poke fun at you and his brother. He was 15 when he would laugh at the way your face would go red. He didn’t know that it wasn’t his brother you wanted.

14 and 16 when you first began to notice the subtle slope of his shoulders become more pronounced, more defined. When you began to notice the way his muscles would strain against the sleeves of his tee shirt. 

He had always been a large guy, having hit quite a few growth spurts along the way. He had to have been about 5’10 at that point, practically towering over you. But lately, you thought he must have been hitting the gym. He would walk past Yuji’s open door – and in their house it was a family policy to leave the door open when you came over, even if Yuji was only a brother to you – with gym gear on. He would come back with sweat-slicked hair plastered to his forehead, chest rising and falling steadily.

Something about that made your hormones go wild for him. Inappropriate thoughts began to chew away at you from the inside, images of what he could do to you with such strength, even if you weren’t too certain what ‘doing’ even entailed at that time. The scent of his pheromones, something like that – or maybe it was the way his gym clothes hugged his body while he marched towards the bathroom to take a shower – it made you feral for him.

He was so much bigger than you now. It made your head spin with feelings you didn’t quite understand. It was just a crush… so why did you stay awake at night imagining him panting over you, sweat trickling down his bare chest? The way his muscles might ripple under your hesitant, inexperienced touch? The warmth that would bloom over your face when you imagined his lips on yours – this man who you had never gotten close to.

A man who you remembered having a late night conversation with in the kitchen while Yuuji slept right down the hall one night.

He was ransacking the cabinet for snacks when you found him. He relaxed once he’d noticed it was you, the two of you eventually falling into sugar-fueled conversation after he cracked open a pack of double-stuff oreos. A conversation about the taboo , about the things you had been told to keep quiet.

“You don’t have to be all flustered ‘round me, y’know,” He had told you rather softly. The two of you were separated by the kitchen island, but it felt like he was way to close to you. “You can ask me anything you’re curious about.”

“I’m not curious!” You had whisper-shouted back with a roll of your eyes. “I don’t want to know about your sex life, you whore.”

“You just asked me what it felt like, liar,” He noted, quirking a brow at your outward reaction. He loved to get under your skin. Lived for it. “And for the record, I’m not a whore. Most of the times I’ve been touched have been with my own hand.”

“I’ve never tried… that, ” You mused quietly, head low. Your face burned with the heat of your admission. 

He popped an oreo into his mouth, dusting his hands off carelessly. “What, masturbating?”

Your heart did a weak somersault. “Quiet!” You hissed at him. “Now what if Yuuji heard you talking to me like that?”

“Calm your shit,” he told you. “You’re too young f’me. Relax.”

He only chuckled at your words, shaking his head quietly while he resealed the oreos. Still, if he was thinking anything about your reaction, he didn’t voice it. You were glad.

But it hurt. It hurt, hearing him talk about you like you didn’t have a chance. Like none of the effort you put into your appearance around him had any effect on him because you were too young to steal his attention away. None of it mattered – the push up bras, the low cut tanks, the cherry lip balm. 

In his eyes, you were only a kid.

“I’m a virgin,” you had blurted out, for some odd reason you still didn’t quite understand.

The pause that befell the two of you was one that you remembered years later. 

“I can tell,” He had said, slim waist swinging side to side as he walked around the kitchen island, towards the exit behind you. He sauntered over to you with a smirk on his face and a plate in his hand, dark hair pulled back into a bun while his layers fell around his face. He was breathtaking, handsome, tantalizing build towering over you.

16, A man whose voice had dropped again in the last few months whispered those words, the ones you would never forget, “‘S fun. You should try it.”

You didn’t know what he had wanted you to try – having sex or performing it on yourself.

Either way, that night when you went home was the first time you ever tried to touch yourself. Fantasized about him whispering in your ear, holding you down, talking you through – while your pink-manicured fingers worked you up to your first orgasm.

Two years had never felt so far apart.

Choso had a girlfriend at one point. It was only for, like, four months – he was 17, you were 15. You only found this out when he’d come home after a pretty rough night with her. He looked pissed, lips pressed into a thin line, arms crossed over his broad chest.

You knew he was too old for you, that you weren’t old enough for him, more specifically – but, still, you batted those lashes of yours up at him while you asked him what was wrong.

You didn’t tell him about the way butterflies erupted in your stomach like a hundred angry guisers when he told you his girlfriend had cheated, left him for another man. 

You hugged him instead, telling him that it would be alright, telling him that she never deserved him anyway. You were the one for him, and one day he would see that.

Instead of turning to you – who had been right there all along, he had just been too blind to notice – he took his anger out on everyone else. He became cold, emotionally closed off. He became a serial heartbreaker. 

For a while, whenever you came over to Yuuji’s, his bedroom would be vacant. Open, dark, just as he had left it. For a while, he would spend his nights with faceless hookups and meaningless dates. Itadori would call you to complain about it, about how “we’re home alone for dinner tonight and Choso just walked out”.

Your heart broke, too. He just didn’t know it.

He didn’t know you were waiting for him to come to his senses, for him to see you as a woman .

You were seated in the kitchen across from Itadori enjoying another late-night snack, sharing some hearty laughter. You had always adored your conversations with him, the ‘After-Hours’ talks, as you would often refer to them. 

Your night had taken an unexpected turn when Itadori’s brother burst through the kitchen door with a giggling girl in tow. The late hour suggested that this was no ordinary visit.

Still, even though you couldn’t pry your eyes away from her, you didn’t say anything. You stayed quiet while your heart shattered into one hundred million pieces inside of your tight chest.

Itadori’s laughter had died down, giving way to an awkward silence. He greeted his brother with a smile, “Hey, bro. Who’s she?”

Choso shrugged, dark hair shifting over his eyes that seemed to glint beneath the dim lighting as he replied, “Company.”

His mischievous tone and the girl at his side left little to the imagination. Your cheeks flushed as you exchanged another quick glance with Itadori.

You felt frozen in place. You couldn’t move. No, all you could do was sit there like a dumbass and stare at him, watch the man you loved liked guide her by her hand up the stairs. 

Of course. You had been naive to think that he would wait for you. He would be 18 next year. 

He was out of your league.

Feeling the need for a momentary escape, you had excused yourself, muttering something about needing to use the bathroom. You had stood up, heart racing, and made your way up the stairs and towards the bathroom.

Conveniently, of course, it was located just down the hall from Choso’s room.

You crept down the hall slowly. As you passed by his door, you caught a sound. Something unmistakable – two people in hushed conversation uttering words in between kisses. 

“Choso, baby.” 

Another quiet kiss. Their lips separated.

“I’m ready.” 

“You brought protection?” 

Your embarrassment grew as you realized the intimate nature of the encounter happening on the other side of the door. Quickly, you averted your gaze, face burning, and ran off to the bathroom.

It took you a moment to catch your breath. You couldn’t believe the awkwardness of the whole situation. Shit, you didn’t even know how to approach him after this.

Worst of all, you didn’t even know why you were still only able to imagine it was your voice behind that door instead of hers. That it was him pressing butterfly kisses to your lips. Him asking you if you were ready for him.

With your cheeks tinged a rosey hue, you resolved to keep yourself locked away in the bathroom until the thoughts subsided.

It seemed like it was a new girl every time you came to visit. A blonde, a brunette – he didn’t seem to have a preference. Every time you would watch him walk another girl to the front door, bidding her safe travels on her way home, your hope would wither away.

But the feelings never subsided. No, even when you would spend a little more time walking past his room on your way to the bathroom to eavesdrop. Not even when you would hear hushed whispers and quiet moans from the other side and imagine what kind of lover Choso would be. Would he leave marks? Talk dirty to you? Was he a giver or a taker? 

Not even when the two of you would cross paths in the kitchen after his plans for the evening went home. He would turn to you with a knowing smirk, hair down and messy even though it did nothing to hide the red and purple love bites that littered the valley of his neck. 

And he looked so good that you often found yourself wishing it was you who had left those marks. 

It was as if he knew you were dying inside. Like something was beginning to change inside of him after all of these years. Like he took some strangely cruel pleasure in showing off to you.

No, you would have to remind yourself in vain. I’m too young for him. 

You were just a girl in his eyes. That’s what you maintained.

So you went out and retaliated by losing your V-card to some kid from your class. Well, in your head it was retaliation. He was none the wiser about it, but it gave you a sense of satisfaction knowing you were able to fuck people who weren’t him. 

Take that, Choso. 

Yuji groaned, laying spread eagle over his carpeted floor, arms spread out on either side of him. He had grown so much – you could hardly contain the way your eyes wandered from his pretty face to his new physique. Like his brother, Itadori was a well-defined man.

God picked favorites, and it wasn’t you.

There was an open notebook splayed over his face. He gripped the spine, tossing it to the side. 

“I’m over this chemistry shit,” He sighed.

You couldn’t possibly have agreed more. Still, you continued to sketch the rough outline of a circle onto the sheet of construction paper in your hand. You would need to make it perfect, just right, so that you would be able to incorporate it into your group project.

You turned the pencil over between your fingertips. “We’re gonna need more supplies.”

"Like what?" Yuuji asked, his frustration still evident. "I’m pretty sure we’ve purchased, like… every craft supply on the market."

You quirked a brow at the thought. "Scissors…?"

Yuuji pursed his lips, his brow furrowing. "I don’t have those."

"Of course you don’t," you sighed, shaking your head. "Who the hell doesn’t have scissors?"

"I lent them to Choso," he retorted with a hint of annoyance.

Your heart dropped at the mention of Choso. You couldn't help but picture his face, his body, and wondered if he was asleep. You didn't want to disturb him.

Yuuji sat up, nudging you with his foot playfully. "Hey, why don't you go over there and get them? Make some goo-goo eyes, bat your lashes. I’m sure he wouldn’t say no to you."

You hesitated for a moment, considering your options. "I'm sure I can find some in my backpack," you said instead, trying to avoid the suggestion.

"Come onnnn, you know you wanna go over there," Yuuji teased with a sly grin. He leaned in closer, cupping his hand around his mouth, and whispered, " He just got back from the gym. "

Another nudge from Yuuji finally made you relent. "Fine," you said with a playful roll of your eyes. "I’ll be back."

Only moments later, you found yourself standing in front of Choso's door, a mix of anticipation and nervousness coursing through you as you raised your hand up to knock. You rapped twice against the wooden surface. There was a shuffling sound on the other side of the world, one that made your heartrate pick up, and then the door cracked open.

He had one earbud in his ear, the other dangling over his chest. He wore a black wife pleaser and some grey sweats that hung loose over his hips – leaving little to the imagination. He looked so strong, muscular arm braced against the doorframe while the other held it open. His waist was thin, toned, so much so that you could see it through the fabric of his shirt.

He smelled like he had just hopped out of the shower – like cherry and musk. His wet hair was done back into a messy bun. His eyes raked over your trembling form.

With a gentle, familiar grin, he said, “What’s up?”

Your throat felt dry. You swallowed anyway, with a great deal of discomfort, averting your wide-eyed gaze. Ignoring the way your eyes lingered over the pale skin of his toned navel revealed where his tank had ridden up, over the v line that dipped down into his waistband, over the neatly trimmed trail that led down south . 

“Do… Do you have scissors?” You asked him. You didn’t like how timid you sounded, or the way your stomach churned at the sight of him.

He paused for a moment, and somehow you knew he was looking at you. You were suddenly very glad you had worn a fitted v-neck tee shirt today, one that would have provided him with a bird’s eye view of your cleavage.

He’s looking at me. 

“Yeah,” he muttered quietly, stepping away from the door and into his room. You had only wandered into Choso’s quarters a few times with Yuuji, usually to steal something from him while he wasn’t home. You had never really taken the time to notice the band posters taped up over his walls, the black sheets on his bed, the clothes scattered over his floor in typical teenage boy fashion.

You poked your head in, taking a quick look around while his muscular back was turned. Ultimately, it was him you wound up gawking at, hungry eyes following the well-defined curve of his back into his slim waist, the curve of his bubble butt.

You looked away just as he had turned around. If he noticed you staring, he didn’t say anything. A red pair of scissors dangled from his curled finger. 

“Here,” was all he said, offering the tool to you. 

You didn’t know when conversations between the two of you had gotten to be so tense, so strained. It used to come effortlessly. These days, however, it seemed as if you were always trying to run away from conversation with him.

You took it from him gently, dying a bit more inside when his large fingers brushed against yours, offering a slight nod in return. “Thanks.”

16 and 18, now.

You had texted Choso asking for his help on a particularly difficult math assignment. He was older, after all, you didn’t doubt that he was better equipped to complete the homework than you were.

That was the first time you had ever hung out alone with him. Without Itadori. 

You would never forget the way the atmosphere changed when he sat close to you at the kitchen table. The way your skin prickled with electricity beneath his hesitant touch. He poked fun at you and your incompetence. You didn’t even care, not when he was sitting so close to you.

Alone.

The possibilities that filled your mind were less than holy.

Tensions were at an all time high. He had leaned over to help you, breath ghosting over the shell of your ear, when it finally snapped.

When you met his gaze with uncertainty in your eyes, making no real effort to put any distance between you and the man you had been pining after for so many years. In that moment, you saw it – saw him, saw that he finally looked at you as something more than just a girl.

Saw the way his gaze softened as he leaned into you. You let him get closer, close enough that his nose brushed against the tip of yours. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” You remarked, even though you ached to be trapped in this moment with him a while longer.

He licked his lips, murmuring, “You’re probably right.”

Nothing compared to the delicate brush of his lips against yours as the two of you finally met in the middle, The way fireworks blew up in your gut. The way he cradled your cheek gently in the palm of his hand, crossing that unspoken boundary that the two of you had been toeing for so long.

Though you had made out with a few guys before, in your eyes, you had shared your first kiss with Choso in the kitchen that night. The first of many to come .

The summer between 16 and 17 was spent sharing secret moments with him behind doors, between appearances. 

You sat on the couch next to Itadori, trapped in the second installment of a film series the two of you had been watching yesterday. You were wearing a zip-up hoodie over your school uniform. 

You had come over to do homework. Just like yesterday, though, you wound up fucking around. 

Itadori was far too engrossed in whatever was happening on screen to notice his brother leaving the kitchen just a few feet off to the side. He looked you up and down, dark eyes reaching into your soul and picking you apart at the seams. With a barely noticeable motion, he nodded towards the stairs.

You nodded back, heart thrumming wildly in your chest.

Choso gripped the meat of your ass in his hands, throwing your legs around his waist while his mouth danced against yours. You tossed your arms around his shoulders, head reeling from how effortlessly he had picked you up. He walked the two of you backwards until your back hit the door. 

He continued to ravage you against that surface, too, tongue slipping in between your lips and exploring your mouth. You trembled against him, trying your best to keep up with him.

It felt so good – being pressed up against him, being given his attention. You wished it was more than secret kisses here and there, of course, but you would take what you could get.

“Missed you,” he hummed against your lips. 

You didn’t even care if that was the line he used on all of the other girls. In that moment, all that mattered was his lips against yours, his hands on you, his attention.

You snaked your hands up the back of his neck and into his hair, twisting some of the dark strands between your fingertips. “I should really get back soon,” You gasped, relishing in the way his kisses felt up and down your neck.

He relented, letting you down. You pressed one more chaste kiss to his lips.

“Didn’t mean to keep ‘ya,” he chuckled lowly, breaths still heavy from the makeout session you had been having only seconds before. He nodded towards the door behind you. “Get back out there.”

You nodded wordlessly, opening the door. With one final smile, you slipped behind it. You felt like you were floating as your legs carried you down the stairs and into the living room. You didn’t even care how disheveled you looked.

Thankfully, Yuuji didn’t notice the way you were wiping your mouth on the back of your hand as you plopped onto the couch beside him. He also didn’t notice when his brother wandered down the stairs a few minutes later, or the way he smiled knowingly at you before disappearing into the kitchen.

You were 17 when Choso left for college. He was 19 when his brother had thrown him a going-away party.

There were 10 of you in the living room, a few of Yuuji and his childhood friends all gathered around the coffee table. A movie was on. Some of them were engrossed in a card game in the corner of the room. 

You and Choso lingered behind the group, situated comfortably on the couch behind all of the action. He was sitting so close that your thighs brushed against his, so close that it felt like he, too, wanted to savor the moment before interacting with you became a rarity. Before he moved out and started a new life somewhere hours away.

He didn’t voice any of these feelings, keeping his dark eyes unreadable and steady on the movie that Yuji had put on in the background. Selena Gomez was playing from a speaker somewhere behind the couch.

You almost wanted to lean your head on his shoulder. Almost. Never mind the fact that everyone would see it.

You distinctly remember the way he shifted closer to you when you pulled out a blanket. You let him make the bold move, seemingly unfazed by the potential audience only feet away from the two of you. 

He tossed the plush blanket over his legs. The lights were dim. Dim enough that they wouldn’t see the way your face flushed at the proximity.

Sixteen minutes passed. You felt like you were going to explode.

Somewhere along the way, though it’s all a bit fuzzy now, you remember feeling his hand creep down beneath the blanket to rest on your thigh. You fought to remain composed, even though the darkness undoubtedly shrouded whatever it was that Choso was planning to do.

He lingered over the skin on your thighs left bare by the shorts you had chosen to wear. His finger traced over you, igniting fire in your nerves. Again, you said nothing, letting him go about tracing shapes on your thigh while his face remained stoic and composed.

You glanced between him and the blanket. You couldn’t see the imprint of his hand moving, somehow, but you could practically feel the heat radiating from beneath it when his index finger slipped between your thighs. 

19 years old. Two years had never seemed so far apart. When he was the age you were now, you recalled his voice being quite a few pitches higher. The same voice that had dropped even lower over the last year, now drawing you closer to him as he murmured into your ear, “Can I touch you?”

Parting your legs infinitesimally, you wordlessly granted him entrance. His fingers dipped down, ghosting over your cotton panties in a way that had you wondering how well of a disguise the dim lighting really was.

“What if they see us?” You had whispered back, even quieter. None of them had bothered to turn back. Even still, you wondered if one of them had X-Ray vision.

His voice seemed even deeper as it vibrated against your side. “You’ll be quiet for me, won’t you?”

The moment his fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your panties, you knew you were in no position to disagree.

Yuuji and his friends were none the more wiser. Yuji didn’t notice when you whined quietly, letting him slip two fingers into your aching cunt, or when his brother worked you open on his fingers. 

He didn’t notice when the two of you had left to make out heatedly in the pantry, right against the box of assorted chips, right where anyone could walk in, turn on the light, and see you there pressed up against him disappeared to the pantry for ten minutes. 

Though the moment you returned to see him glancing at you with a curious brow raised, you knew he had finally caught on. Even if he didn’t say anything about it.

It would be another three months before you would see Choso again.

I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

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wanna join the ' choso kamo ' taglist?| bfb; chapter index

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[notiddygxthgf]

Yuuji Itadori truly was the best friend a girl like you could ask for, but he wasn't the only reason you came to visit. (His older brother, the devilishly handsome Choso Kamo, had always been the apple of your eye).

── ⋆⋅★⋅⋆ ──┐

.i.

.ii.

── ⋆⋅★⋅⋆ ──┘

​🇨​​🇴​​🇲​​🇵​​🇱​​🇪​​🇹​​🇪

(but taking requests for chap 3 if y'all comment and ask real nice for it ;))

master list + requests!

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[notiddygxthgf]

wakasa throws the “i’m sorry ms. imaushi” or “so sorry mama” whenever you’re mad at him and it works, the little shit knows that as soon as he says either of those things you’re no longer mad at him i hate him so much

wakasa has such a grip on you and he fucking knows it. ugh.

he won't even be phased by you when you get all up in his face shouting and calling him names. he'll just stand there smirking at you because the only thing he can focus on is how god damn pretty you look when you're angry

shit, sometimes, he pisses you off just to see you all hot and bothered like this -- eyes pointed and brows drawn, accusatory finger pointed at his chest.

he's already thinking of the 30 different positions he would have you in right fucking now if he could -- god, he just wants to fuck that little attitude right out of you. (yes, I head canon that waka is a brat tamer and no one can tell me otherwise.)

"Are you even fucking listening?" You would ask.

"Mhm," he would say, but he would never want you to feel like he didn't care about what you have to say, so he would add, "I'm listening, mama, keep going."

you hope he doesn't catch the way you stammer as you continue your ramble. he does -- and his smirk only widens at it.

he knows you could never stay mad at him.

when he decides he's had his fun, he'll slide his arm around you, lips dripping with those sweet nothings he knows you love to hear.

"I'm sorry, mama," He croons softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "I won't do it again."

he knows you're not really that angry at him. Rather, that you're angry at a situation and you want to be heard by him.

"Promise?" you would ask him.

"'Course, mama," he adds. "don't want my future wife crying' over something I did. y'er too damn pretty. ain't that right, mrs. imaushi?"

then your gaze would soften, your anger would weaken, and he would know he had won. he knew he had your pretty ass wrapped around his finger. no one else could handle his princess the way he could.

he knows you're not goin anywhere.

#ask notiddygxthgf ✧˖*°࿐ #notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ #thirsts ʚ♡ɞ・ #wakasa imaushi #wakasa imaushi x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers #wakasa smut #leo rambles ☄. *. ⋆ #wakasa x reader

[notiddygxthgf]

Rindou's the fucking type to act all hot shit when you ogle at his tattoos -- only for him to fucking lose it when you start grazing over them lightly 😋

cw: lemon, suggestive language, use of the nickname mama and princess.

oh, absolutely.

rindou has trouble letting his walls down around other people, even you. he feels like he has to keep up the whole intimidating bad boy exterior, even when it's just the two of you alone like this.

you know his weak spot, though.

he had you pinned into his bed, arms thrown around his shoulders -- hands tangled in his soft, blond hair while he kissed you like his life depended on it. His lips were gentle, soft, reassuring. The way he slipped his tongue into your mouth with a quiet groan, however, was the opposite.

you shuddered, freeing one of your hands from his hair while the other tugged at the strands in your grasp. you pulled away from the kiss to look at him -- your beautiful boy, your roman statue, your eros.

your eyes trailed down his muscular arms, down his toned, scarred chest. they followed the intricate swirls and spikes of ink that covered half of his body, his being. you hummed quietly, letting your fingers ghost over the tattoo, over his abs.

"you're so pretty," you remarked breathlessly. "you know that?"

rindou peered down at you with wide eyes. you could practically see the gears turning in his head, the rolodex of witty retorts in his mind failing for a brief moment as he struggled to reply. finally, he averted his gaze.

and he was fucking blushing.

you traced your thumb over the spiral that dipped down into his sweats -- where your hand bumped the conspicuous tent in his black sweatpants. you followed the pattern up, over the six bumps that defined his abdomen, the ink that licked up the side of his v-line.

rindou shuddered, pink lips parting to release a trembling breath.

he was normally so quiet in bed. but you? you made him fold. you knew all of his weak points.

"you okay, papa?" you asked teasingly, following the slope of his tattoo up to his chest. "you want me?"

"fuck, baby," he breathed through a grin. "don't call me that."

"or what?" you raised a brow. you dropped your hand to the prominent bulge in his pants, cupping it softly.

rindou whimpered quietly. the action seemed to catch even him off guard.

"all this..." you trailed off, drawing mindless shapes over his bulge. "for me, right? all mine?"

rindou didn't answer. he bit his lip instead, doing his best not to whine like some sort of dog. shit, you knew how to work him over.

"say it," you reiterated, squeezing him through the fabric off his sweats.

"yours," rindou panted. "fuck, 'm yours, princess."

he couldn't help it. your touch made him lose his shit every single fuckin' time.

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#ask notiddygxthgf ✧˖*°࿐ #notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ #thirsts ʚ♡ɞ・ #rindou haitani #rindou #haitani rindou #rindou x reader #rindou haitani x reader #rindou x you #rindou x y/n #rindou haitani x you #haitani brothers #ran haitani #female reader

[notiddygxthgf]

munch!

★ pairings: wakasa imaushi x f!reader

★ synopsis: waka loves his fiancee. especially when her legs are around his head.

★ content warning: smut, pwp, porn without plot, cute porn though, simp wakasa, oral sex, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, pussydrunk!waka, unprotected sex.

★ a/n: all my juicy bitches wya 😩😩 thought id do some fan service. enjoy!! mwah mwah xo

★ w.c.; 3.8k

mdni! smut beneath the cut

"YOU'RE SO FULL OF SHIT," Keizo hummed. "There's no way you actually, genuinely think that's a good way to live."

Shinichiro shrugged. "I'm just not a fan."

"Fan of what? Eating pussy?" Wakasa chimed in. The three men were lounging in the living room of Shinichiro's apartment, sharing friendly banter. "Don't be ridiculous."

"I like receiving better," Shinichiro retorted.

Wakasa couldn't possibly disagree more. "Just say you're bad at it, Shin."

"Shin, you sound like..." Keizo began. "You sound like one of those guys who just want to be included in the conversation, but you actually have like... no experience whatsoever."

"Eating pussy is so much better than getting blown, man," Waka mused. "I mean really, you're missing out."

"Take it from him," Remarked the largest of the three, who sat back in his chair with his legs spread wide. "He's a devoted munch."

"For enjoying giving my girl pleasure? Alright, dude." Wakasa rolled his eyes. "The way the girls' legs grip your head, the way she squirms... you're telling me you don't eat that up?"

Wakasa had a sort of reputation around these parts, although it wasn't like he didn't have anything to do with it. He adored his queen. His beloved fiance. It was no secret to anyone from one end of Tokyo to the other that she was the apple of his eye, and that he lived to please her to the furthest extent possible. However, in more recent times, he had made a name for himself. The name in question?

"You know what that makes you?" Keizo remarked with a sharp exhale. "A munch."

The two men were seated in the lounge shortly after a meeting. Their coworker and boss, Shinichiro Sano, sat just off to the side of them, watching the exchange with a shit-eating grin.

"What does that even mean?" Wakasa furrowed his brows. Sinking further into the couch, he reached into his vibrating pocket.

Shinichiro decided that now would be the perfect time to chip in with his own two cents. "A munch is, like, the male equivalent of a dickrider, obsessed," he answered, although it wasn't like anyone asked. "Someone who's all up in one girl's pussy – metaphorically and sometimes physically. Like you."

After a brief pause, Wakasa's weary lilac eyes scanned the illuminated text on his screen. "Rather be all up in one girl's pussy than be getting none at all," He retorted, holding the phone up to his ears. The tone of his next few words was virtually unrecognizable from that of his previous statement as he answered the incoming call.

"Hi, pretty baby," He greeted. "How are you?"

From the other end of the receiver, he could almost see the way her face scrunched together when she yawned. She paused, and then in that sultry, soft-spoken voice that drove him wild, she said, "Hi, Daddy."

Shinichiro's eyes widened as he leaned forward in his seat. Although Keizo's surprise wasn't as outward, even he couldn't hide the quiet chuckle that escaped when he dampened his lips with his tongue. Wakasa clutched the phone closer to his ear, turning away from the two men.

"I'm with the guys, baby, behave," he warned her, although his tone remained as soft as ever. "Is something the matter?"

He heard his precious girl sigh on the other side of the phone, followed by a quiet rustling sound. He wondered where she was right now. It sounded like she was in bed. If that was the case, he could already picture her in all of her sculpturesque beauty – tangled in the sheets of their queen-sized bed, heart-shaped lips parted ever so slightly, face dusted with a hue of pink that matched her pretty pink satin jammies. He wondered if, then, she would be wearing his hoodie. Fuck, just the thought of that had him squirming.

"Nothin's the matter, um..." His muse trailed off. He knew she was fiddling with her earlobe, just as she always did when she was deep in thought. "Jus... I jus' miss you."

If it were even possible, Wakasa felt his exterior soften even more. "I miss you too, princess."

"When are you coming home?"

If she asked him like that again – in that quiet, beautiful voice of hers – he would be coming home within the next few minutes, no questions asked. He didn't tell her that, of course. The two of you had spent the entire night indulged entirely in one another. His neck bore the battle scars of such an altercation; two small red hickeys which had been tactically placed by a devious little gremlin without his knowledge.

"Not sure, why?" He asked, fighting off his internal monologue which had memories of last night on replay in the back of his mind. "You need somethin'?"

"No," Was all she said. There was a brief silence, during which Keizo and Shinichiro resumed the conversation they had been having.

He heard her rustling around in the background again – his phone vibrated once, signifying a new message, but he didn't go to answer it – and then she said, "Look at what I sent you."

Wakasa obliged, like the munch he was, and opened the message. It was from her, of course. He'd expected that. What he hadn't expected though, was the image that awaited him when he entered the private message with her.

Immediately, he shielded the phone from his friends (who were, in hindsight, far too deeply immersed in their own private conversation about the politics of gender roles and derogatory nicknames to care ). Feeling heat crawl up the back of his neck and the corners of his lips twist into a grin, he fought to regain his composure.

"You took that just now?" He asked, a little more quietly than before. "Have you been waiting for me to come back all morning?"

"Mhm," The girl mumbled proudly. "And when you do come back, that'll be waiting for you."

That was all he needed to hear. Wakasa stood up from the couch and dusted off his shorts. "Be there in 15."

"Kay," you giggled, and that was the last thing he heard before you hung up on him.

Wakasa sighed, pocketing his phone, and then turning back to his two friends. "I gotta bounce," He called, interrupting their conversation to announce his departure. "I'll catch you guys later."

Keizo crossed one leg loosely over the other, throwing his arms along the backside of the couch. "The missus calls?"

The shorter man – who was already reaching for the doorknob – flashed a small grin. "What can I say? I'm like superman."

Shinichiro, who was now against one arm of his loveseat while his legs were thrown over the other, commented on Wakasa's choice of words. "More like Supermunch."

Wakasa ignored his comment, pulling open the door. "Suck me." .

"Oh fuck."

Wakasa groaned in response, although the noise was muffled by her thighs. Buried nose-deep in the world's wettest pussy, his grip was like a vice, strong hands digging into the girl's hips in such a manner that he knew his fingers would leave pretty purple bruises.

His thick, beautiful goddess. He loved everything about her. More than that, he loved eating her out. When he'd run his tongue over the most sensitive part of her, her whole body would twitch. Her hips, painted with stretch marks, were his handles. He adored the way her soft, supple body careened into his touch.

She tasted like heaven, and god, she was gushing for him.

He sucked gently on her clit, which was flushed red with arousal, watching in awe as the woman arched up off of the bed. He could see this show a thousand million times and he would still be just as enthralled as he had been the day he had taken her like this for the very first time. Pressing open-mouthed kisses to her pretty pink pussy, his tongue found its way down toward her dripping hole.

Leaving not a moment to waste, she gripped his disheveled ponytail by the root, pushing his head in deep enough for the tongue to slide right in – like it was meant to be there.

"Please," His fiancee pleaded, although he wasn't entirely sure what she wanted. She knew full and well that he wasn't planning on slowing down anytime soon. "Mnnnh-"

And, just to tease her, he withdrew, replacing his tongue with two damp fingers. "Feel good, sweetheart?" He murmured softly, just up against her red-flushed skin.

While he wasn't answered with words, the response he got was nonetheless gratifying. With a gasp and a desperate rut of her hips against his mouth, against the low vibration of his voice, she sent a message as clear as day.

He made no effort to stop her. Instead, adjusting his hands to grip the meat of her ass, he allowed the beautiful, frenzied girl to shamelessly ride his face. Her hips jumped up and down, rubbing her pretty little clit on his lips and his nose, smearing her juices all over his face. She shuddered, opening her legs even further, and arched into the warm, mushy mess he had created with his mouth.

She looked so fucked out like this, so ruined. Her head was thrown back, hair strewn haphazardly over the satin pillow, pink lips parted gently to make way for her trembling breaths. The little red babydoll she was wearing – what started all of this – complimented the undertones of her skin in such a way that it made his head spin. One of the straps hung loosely off of her shoulder, just barely exposing her breast. She was too much; he wanted to touch everything. To say he was enjoying the view would be an understatement. God, he could paint it if he could – on some Van Gogh shit, but if he were a porn addict.

Her smooth legs clamped shut over his ears. He huffed a satisfied little laugh before prying them apart and continuing to make a ruin out of the poor girl in the open.

Unfortunately, as he was only one man, he had to pull away for some air. He plunged two digits back into her, curling them up against that spot that would make her purr. He knew her body like the back of his hand, having memorized every curve, every crevice. Moving forward to continue lapping at her clit, he tried sucking in more air without having to stop. He never wanted to. He could hardly breathe but, fuck, he wouldn't mind going out like this: squished between his fiancee's thighs, feeling her warm essence drip down his chin while she cried out for him.

He couldn't take his eyes off her. The way she took his fingers so well, sucking them in and then clenching around them like she never wanted to let go. The way she gasped out his name over and over like a broken mantra. He could feel the heat of his own arousal straining against the seam of his boxers, but he didn't care. Being able to see her like this was more than enough.

With a gasp, he pulled back. "Fuck," he breathed. "You're purring like a kitten for me."

She carded a trembling hand through his hair, taking some of it into her small fist and tugging on it. He arched into the sensation. He loved the pain.

"Please," She begged again.

Though his fingers never stopped, he paused his desperate licking to draw the moment out even longer. An hour wasn't enough. He wanted to be inside of her all day, in perfect tune with the rhythm of her body, every arch, every stutter of her hips spurring him on. He rubbed the point of his index finger over her sweet spot, pulling her apart from the inside. "Use your words, princess."

Judging by the way her walls were beginning to spasm around his fingers, fun time was about to be cut short. He wanted more. No, fuck, he needed more. But honestly, he wasn't so sure that she could take anymore. Her eyes rolled back, slurred words and broken moans pouring out of her mouth a mile a minute while she struggled to hold on.

Deciding she had taken too long to answer, he dove back into her, parting her lips with his nose and then forming a light suction seal over her clit. He had to readjust himself to fit his fingers and his mouth in such a small space.

She felt so good inside, so warm. He could die in this pussy.

His fiancee gasped, "Waka, stop, 'm gonna cum."

His lips departed from the woman's dripping wet cunt, but only to roughly slide her ass closer to his face. Then, completely disregarding her previous please, he devoured her. His hair was beyond disheveled, tangled in her fist, while the rest hung in damp strands around his face.

He peered up at her hungrily, pulling back and greedily licking her off of his fingers. "Say my name like that again," he'd practically moaned, running his hands up and down your trembling thighs. The poor girl was shaking like a leaf in the breeze and he was reveling in it. "Say my name while you ride my tongue, baby."

"Mmmfuck– wait," She gasped. Her body, however, sent a different signal. She yanked his hair – hard, too – and trapped his head between her thighs. Those pretty little noises she was making increased in pitch and became more frequent within. She was near the breaking point, broken pleas of his name tumbling from her devilish lips. "Wait, wait... Waka, baby."

He wasn't planning on obeying her, moaning against her now abused clit while his lips and tongue alternated applying pressure on it. The pleasure coursing through his veins was enough to drive him wild – fuck, if she kept swallowing him up like that he was gonna cream his pants. She was getting loud and, to be frank, that was turning him on like crazy. He wanted to reach down and palm the ache between his legs, rut his hips down against the bed – anything to release some of the tension that was building between his legs – but he was far too enamored by the sight of her to take any attention away.

Head thrown back, hand gripping his blonde (and purple) tresses like a vice, back arched up off of the bed while that red babydoll dress slipped further off of her shoulders... she was a sight to behold. He never wanted to stop, never wanted her to stop moaning his name. He didn't care if the neighbors heard – hell, the whole building.

His tongue swapped places with his fingers.

The way she was mewling for him like a cat in heat made his heart run wild with desire. She was beautiful, so fucking pretty. She always was. But nothing compared to the way she looked like this, spread open for him like a mouth-watering buffet. He whined, feeling her tug harder at his hair. Her guts were clenching around his tongue like she wanted more. He knew it would only be a matter of time before he got what he wanted from her, so he removed his mouth from the girl's dripping cunt, allowing his fingers to work her open – an obscene mix of her juices and his spit glistening as it ran down his chin. Somehow, he found the strength to utter the words, "I need you to cum for me."

He had power over her at that moment, he knew he did. He had her rocking her hips back on his fingers like a desperate whore, chasing that sweet release she so desperately craved. When she slapped her hand over her mouth to keep quiet – because she had gotten a bit louder, to say the least – he quickly grabbed her wrists, pinning them down into the mattress. "Let me hear you, baby," He panted. "Let the whole building know who's making you feel good."

And he continued the downright slaughter of your pussy with his mouth this time.

"Daddy," the girl mewled, curling into herself. He'd been edging the poor thing around for far too long. He knew that. He just didn't care enough to stop.

It slipped out. It must have... Yet, still, when his fingers curled up against a particularly sensitive spot with all of the ease of a harpist plucking at the strings of her core, her lips spilled praise of his name. "Daddy!"

His smirk grew in size. He licked some of her off of his lips, and then hummed, twisting his fingers around. "That's it, princess. Such a good girl for me."

And then he could see something in the girl snap. The coil of her release snapped with all the power of an oncoming freight train, slamming into her in such a way that had her back arching up off of the bed. Her hips jolted up against his fingers and his tongue, lips chanting his name like a mantra while savoring the slow strokes of his long fingers against her gummy walls. He could feel the shock tear through her in waves, ripping trembling gasps from her lungs while she clenched around him.

"Baby," she mewled. "Oh, fuck, baby."

He slid his fingers out of the girl slowly, savoring the way her pretty pussy clenched over his fingers one last time before pulling out. Taking the soaked digits up to his lips, he sucked them clean. God, he would never forget how she looked right now, even if he'd seen it a thousand times before.

"Fuck, I wanna feel you," He shuddered, pushing himself onto his knees and then reaching for his tee shirt. Seeing her cum on his tongue like that was enough to drive him mad, dick straining hard against his pants. His lips found their way to hers in a messy clash of tongue and teeth, slick spreading from his face to hers while juices dripped down his neck. He pulled back, "Wanna feel you so fucking bad it hurts."

His beautiful fiancee sat up with uncalled quickness, small hands grabbing at his wrinkled shirt. That was all he needed to push the girl onto her back, promptly tugging the damp fabric over his head and tossing it somewhere to the side. When he turned back around, he caught the way her eyes studied the linework of his tattoos with newfound hunger.

She reached a pretty manicured hand out to rest on his abs, fingers splayed open, roaming the expanse of his ink. She traced the lines down to his abdomen, down to the junction between his hip and his pants – where his v-line was peeking out. He felt himself twitch beneath her touch.

"Don't be a tease," He breathed, although that breathless smile never wavered. He had to make a conscious effort to regulate his breathing. If he didn't restrain himself, god, he didn't even know what he would do to her. He had spent the whole ride over here fantasizing about her, about his pretty girl. He could do so many things, but there was so little time to do them. At least, that's what he'd been thinking before he felt her hand cup his erection through his sweats.

He let out a pent-up gasp that turned into a breathy chuckle. "Ah, fuck."

And then he pulled the girl into another bruising kiss, gripping her ass in his hands and pulling at the flesh like he was tearing into Thanksgiving dinner. Her hand pressed further into his crotch.

She parted from his lips to mumble, "Want you..."

"Yeah?" He breathed. It was getting hard to keep his composure when her hand was palming at him through his pants. His hands slid over her waist and gently cupped her face. "Where do you want me, princess?"

She laid back against the bed, arching her back down. Her legs remained folded against his waist. He quietly observed her, mesmerized by the woman and the way she welcomed him with open legs. Sighing blissfully, he lowered his hand to the warmth between her legs, which had begun to drip

Wordlessly, she brought her legs up onto the table. The man quietly observed her as she did so. He was mesmerized by the girl and the way she welcomed him with open legs. He hummed, lowering his hand to the warmth between her legs. "Right here, baby?" He asked.

Instead of answering, she reached for the waistband of his pants.

He left no time to waste, sliding them down over his hips with a hand at her back and letting her tug his boxers down below his thighs.

Immediately, she pushed her hips back against his, rubbing the head of his cock between her drenched folds. Something in him snapped, or rather, something was about to snap.

"Put it in, Daddy," she whined, and, fuck, when she was getting his cock wet like that he had no right to refuse her. The way she was so desperate even though she just came... he was going to get her pregnant one of these days.

He sighed, adjusting her legs around his waist, running his hands down her stomach – which rose and fell with every ragged breath – to rest on her hips. He let one hand move down towards his dick, wrapping around the leaking tip and then lining it up with her entrance. She was dripping all over him.

Before he could put it in himself, the girl slammed her hips back, sheathing the entirety of his cock in her heat.

"F-Fuck," He gasped, although it came out more like a whine. He let her set the pace at first, sliding back and forth in a way that had his head spinning. Her walls were so wet, so warm, so gummy. Fuck, it felt like he was melting.

Fucking into his dripping-wet fiancee, he couldn't fight the strangled moans that were ripped from the depths of his soul. "Fuck," He whimpered. He slowed down to savor the way her pussy sucked him in, and then pushed him out, and then sucked him in again. It made him dizzy. "Fuck, fuck."

"Mmm," the little devil chuckled. "Feel good?"

"So warm," he panted in response, sounding like a bitch in heat. "Oh fuck, I–" He angled his hips upward, bringing his hand over her cunt to roll his thumb over her clit, relishing in the way she cried for him. "I'm not gonna last long."

He'd never put it in so soon after eating it before. Fuck, the sensation was indescribable. He wanted to die like this – buried eight inches deep in her warm, wet cunt.

"Kay," she giggled. Then she moaned, "I want you to cum inside, okay?"

He knew that if even thought about getting to paint her insides right now he wouldn't last much longer. Hell, this would mark the fifth time he'd done it this week, even if it was only Tuesday. But, shit, whatever the princess wanted?

"Okay, baby."

Princess would get.

a/n: hey heyyyy, I hope you enjoyed it!!! if you liked it, you would loooove my other waka fics which can be found here.

I obviously do not own tokyo revengers or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

taglist: @tokyorevengersslut69, @mikeys-bike-slut, @midtwenties-angst, @sleepysnk, @enneadec, @noaabean, @galactict3a, @em1e, @drakensdarling, @wakashawty, @satanlovesusall666, @sin-and-punishment, @mztoman, @sanzuicide, @bontensbabygirl, @strawberrychrome, @scaraphobia, @bertholdts--butt

wanna join the taglist for wakasa imaushi? | or click here to read more

#notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers x reader #wakasa #wakasa x reader #wakasa smut #wakasa fluff #wakasa imaushi x reader #wakasa imaushi #wakasa is a FREAK #notiddygxthgf #sanoshinichiro #shinichiro sano #benkei #arashi keizou #imaushi wakasa x reader #imaushi wakasa x you #wakasa x you #wakasa x y/n #imaushi wakasa

[notiddygxthgf]

Having Waka brainrot rn😍 Ugh just imagine tracing his tattoos and he loves the way you admire him

I’ve written something similar with rindou but im so glad someone finally asked ab my short king waka. thanks for sending this in!

cw: fluff, reader with boobs lol

it’s canon that wakasa is a needy bf. yes. i’m about to take it there. you really allow him to tap into that softer, needier side. when he’s with you, he’s not the white leopard. he’s not just a 5’2 boxer. he’s your man. when he’s with you, that’s all that matters.

sometimes, in fact, wakasa will come home from work missin’ you. missing your hugs, your kisses, your massages. you always know how to work his muscles after a long day. he’ll come into your shared room and shed his shirt without a word, tossing it onto the floor. He’ll collapse on top of you with a tired sigh, and you know better than to ask questions.

that’s what wakasa loves about you. you don’t have to ask him questions — you don’t make him think about his day any longer than he needs to — you just know.

So, without any hesitation, you’ll set aside whatever it was that you were doing before he got home — be it work, homework, an essay, or just browsing through tumblr/pinterest — and give him your full, undivided attention. He loves the way your arms feel as they wrap around him, the familiar shape and scent of you while you tug his hair loose from his ponytail/bun.

”Rough day?” Is all you have to say.

wakasa nods, burrowing his face into your chest, between those two plush mounds he loves so dearly. slightly muffled, his voice sighs, “missed you, baby.”

you pull him a little closer, placing a chaste kiss atop his pretty head. “missed you even more.”

and that? that right there? that’s the reason wakasa looks forward to coming home every day. it’s because he knows his girl will be there waiting for him when he gets back.

#ask notiddygxthgf ✧˖*°࿐ #notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ #wakasa x reader #wakasa imaushi #wakasa #wakasa imaushi x reader #tr x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #wakasa smut #wakasa fluff

[notiddygxthgf]

prologue

★ pairings: choso x f!reader

★ synopsis: World famous rock star Choso Kamo’s new live-in assistant is convinced that she can fix him – substance abuse issues and all. Tensions ensue, and as new feelings rise to the surface, the two find it difficult to maintain an appropriate workplace relationship (or; the one where an unstable musician struggles to keep it friendly with his assistant).

★ c.w.: none (more content warnings and tags)

★ a/n: don't be a stranger! leave some comments for me to read teehee

★ w.c.; 2.8k

smoke and mirrors; chapter index

THE MUSIC INDUSTRY BLEEDS YOU DRY. That’s just the truth. It takes every ounce of your creative passion and tramples on it. It takes everything from you, and then it takes more. I find myself reconsidering my career path on a daily basis. There’s only one thing, in fact, that keeps me grounded.

“Choso! Choso! Choso! Choso!” 

That. The chant of the crowd. The endless bodies waving their hands over the venue, reaching for me, singing for me.

I leaned my head back, feeling the cool breeze of the backstage air against my neck, against my trembling skin. Crewmembers swarmed around me like gnats, tweaking little details of my outfit – one had a black eyeshadow palette up to my eyelid and another was messing with my hair. She had said something about needing to look intentionally messy.

The low hum of their conversation was only background noise to me. I blew a bubble with the wad of gum in my mouth – a nervous tic that clearly betrayed the calm exterior I was trying so hard to maintain.

The girl who was touching my eyeliner up snapped the palette shut. My mind was elsewhere – it was out there. 

“Choso! Choso! Choso!”

I took a deep breath to steady my racing heart. The chant of my name reverberated through the walls, a frightening reminder of what lay just beyond the curtain. 

People. Thousands of them.

“Choso! Choso! Choso!” The chorus of voices seemed to grow louder. I shut my eyes, visualizing the sea of faces, the outstretched hands, the passion in their voices. The crowd– my fans; they were my lifeline. 

Another crew member informed me, “You’re on.”

I nodded solemnly, feeling that strange pit in my stomach. It was terrifying, it was familiar, it was… exciting. 

I took another breath, then I stepped forward. With each step towards the stage, the chanting intensified. The noise was like this strange, palpable force, urging me onward. I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins the moment I reached the edge of the stage. The anticipation was almost… suffocating.

I stepped out. Then, for a blissful moment, it all seemed to go quiet.

I took a moment to look at them, really look at them. All of them. The mass of humanity blurred into one collective wave of joy. From here, I couldn’t even make out faces. Only smiles, flashing lights, and limbs flailing. Signs with my name on it. People with love in their hearts. 

Nothing but them and me, hearts beating in tandem. I wondered how nervous they felt – if they knew how nervous I felt standing here before them. If they knew I had been nervously chewing on a piece of gum only moments prior.

Thousands of people who all came together for one purpose – to see me. A mosaic of adoration. 

I glanced down at my trembling hands, fingers clutching the edge of my guitar. The weight of the crowd’s expectations pressed down on me. The realization hit me a second time – they were all here for me. That both terrified and humbled me.

I licked my lips, gave my old guitar a strum, feeling those familiar vibrations amplified a hundred fold. It was loud, so loud that I could still hear it reverberating throughout the venue when I reached for the microphone.

I stole another glance at the crowd as a smile broke across my face. 

Deep breaths.

I shouted, “What the fuck is up, Paris?”

The response was deafening. The crowd erupted in cheers. I could feel their energy merging with mine – the lights, the love, the screams. In that moment, I remembered why I endured the trials of my industry. I remembered why I was still living – what I was fighting for. It was all for them, the countless faces who found solace and inspiration in my music. 

And with that realization, I felt my heart begin to race.

“How y’all doin’ tonight?” I asked.

They screamed back at me in response. I grinned.

“God, I love you guys,” I laughed. Strummed my guitar a second time. Looked at them. “I got a special show for you tonight!”

It was all for them. I do it all for them.

Life on the road was pretty crazy. I wish I could say that I had family to miss back home, but that wasn’t the case. I had been in and out of foster care for most of my life; had to grow up pretty fast so my brothers and I could stay off the streets. Other than the three of them, I never really had a family.

I turned to music as a crutch. I bought my first guitar with the first paycheck I earned – I was 16. I bandhopped for a while, alternating between the roles of lead singer, bassist, and rhythm guitarist. I found a passion for writing lyrics somewhere along the way. It felt nice, being able to put pen to paper and make my fucked up life sound appealing.

It was great.

I did basement shows right up until I turned 21. I would have been more than happy to keep on doing them – hell, sometimes I found myself wishing I could still fit those small, shitty little venues – but some big, music industry talent hotshot came and found me at one of my shows. He handed me a card. Told me he liked my sound, that I could be famous.

Who could have refused?

I never anticipated hitting it this big. Not that I’m complaining. It keeps a roof over me and my brother’s head – to say the least. I have more than enough money to live lavishly for the rest of my days.  I found my new family in my music team: my manager, my coordinators, my publicist. All of them. 

The music industry is notoriously blood-sucking. It’s not all sunshine and rainbows. I realized that rather quickly, though by the time I was hot enough to hire a whole team, I was in too deep. It all seemed so… superficial.

I grew to hate it.

My hatred only grew when I lost two of my beloved brothers – Eso and Kechizu. There was a shootout at the mall. They found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time. I remember rushing to the hospital as soon as I heard the news. 

It was too late by that point, though. They had bled out long before I was able to see them.

I didn’t sleep for a week after that – I developed insomnia that would last for years to come. I spent my evenings curled up on my shower floor, sobbing into my own arms. It was the same after that, and then the day after that. I found myself spending all of my time replaying the memories in my head, thinking about where I went wrong.

It didn’t take long for me to find comfort in the lifestyle of the rich and famous – the drinking, the partying, the drugs. I would go on week-long benders, drinking myself into a sickened stupor, rolling up two joints a day, popping pills I didn’t know how to pronounce. Doping myself up so I couldn’t think about it.

Ecstasy, Molly, Coke, LSD, Acid – I’ve taken them all. Shit, you could probably find trace amounts of them in my blood at any given point in time.

Or… however the hell that shit works.

I took Adderall every day to keep me grounded. That’s what I told myself, at least. No doctor in his right mind would ever prescribe someone like me 80 milligrams on a daily basis. Good thing I paid mine enough to forget his hippocratic oath.

I wasn’t completely lost, though. I didn’t feel good about it. Yuuji, my only living brother, told me multiple times that I needed to cut down on my consumption. He wanted me to go to rehab. Shit, over my dead body.

He stopped bringing it up, but I could see it in his eyes – I was breaking his heart. I had to remind myself that he had lost his brothers, too, that day. Probably felt like he was losing the only one he had left.

I try not to dwell too hard on it, though. Got better shit to do.

Fucking hate the music industry most days. Everyone expects you to be all put-together, even though you wake up feeling like you dragged your feet through a field of broken glass shards. Even though you wake up every goddamn morning feeling you’re reliving the same day over and over again.

It’s like a painful reminder that the only people I have in my life are paid employees. I have no one – other than Yuuji – who I could confidently say would be there for me if I no longer had the funds to compensate them.

It fucking blows. I drink to forget about it. Drink and… well, everything else I put in my body.

Never put a needle in there, though… at least not for drugs. I’ve got more tattoos and piercings than I can count.

Enough about my unhealthy coping mechanisms, though.

My “family” never let me put out music I like making. They stripped my creativity from me. I lost all enjoyment in songwriting along the way. They turned me into a husk – a shell of the man I used to be.

I couldn’t recall the last time I felt real happiness. You know, the kind you got from taking a walk in nature and not from snorting and ingesting copious amounts of illicit substances. You would think that someone would see me greened out on the couch and know I was crying for help.

Nah. No one ever listens.

They never noticed. The only reason they cared about whether I was dead or alive was because I kept them well-fed and their pockets full.

That’s the fuckin’ music industry, baby. Nothing but a bunch of soulless, drugged-up puppets pumping out music they hate making. Begging for help.

But no one ever listens.

My head hung low as I snorted a line of powder off the tray my housemaid – or some other woman I didn’t know – had brought me. As quickly as she had appeared, she vanished. In her absence, I relished in the rush that hit me all too fast. 

I sniffed and coughed, shaking my head with remnants of the powder clinging to my nose. I blinked slowly, trying to make sense of my surroundings. 

The studio’s walls were adorned with gold, platinum and silver records, a shark contrast to the disheveled state of the room. Empty liquor bottles littered the floor. The air hummed with companionable conversation and the distant echoes of a repetitive beat.

As I raised my head, the scene unfolded before me. Half-naked women, draped in a hazy glow from neon lights, raised their glasses in a toast. The shots went down smoothly, accompanied by the thumping bass of my latest creation, reverberating through the studio's speakers.

The instrumental was infectious, quick and catchy, resonating with a bass that seemed to throb in sync with the erratic pulse of the room. My eyes fell to the scattered papers on the coffee table in front of me – lyrics scribbled in messy script on lined paper that had been torn straight out of my composition notebook.

Cigarette smoke, a whiskey glass,

Fading memories, like shattered glass,

Every sunrise feels like the last,

Trapped in the echos of the past.

Stuck in the rhythm of a broken clock,

Every tick’s an echo, every tock’s a shock.

A carouse of monotony,

Lost in a loop, just try’na break free.

Guitar wails like a distant scream,

Reality blurs, just like a dream.

Drift through the hours, like a ghost,

In this eternal purgatory, I’m lost.

Pouting, I wiped my nose, feeling the dull burn of the coke as it tingled in the back of my throat. I was congested as all hell. Still, I tried to sing the bridge beneath my breath. 

“Drift through the hours, like a ghost. In this eternal purgatory, I’m lost…” I hummed, pouting again when I realized I still didn’t like it. 

The women in the back of the room continued their celebration, completely oblivious to my internal struggle. They were too busy shooting the shit with my friends.

More glasses were poured, and one was handed over to me. I took a sip without looking – because it honestly didn’t matter what was in the cup, could’ve been piss for all I knew. The familiar burn of bourbon warmed me momentarily. Humming in recognition, I traced my finger over the rim of the glass, lost momentarily in the verbiage of my own creation. 

Something felt off.

Furrowing my brows, I stared down at the words on the page. I sniffled again. Then I downed about half of my glass of bourbon, standing up on unsteady feet. The room swayed slightly, especially when I walked over to the corner where the producer was set up – a lone figure surrounded by the chaos.

I nodded at him, muttering, “Play it again from the chorus. I’m try’na see somethin’.”

The producer – Chris, or some shit like that – nodded back. He pressed a button, and the beat started over. The room’s ambiance, fueled by laughter and friendly chatter, didn’t quiet down. 

I tried my best to immerse myself in the rhythm, but the distractions were just… it was just too much.

‘Guitar wails like a distant scream,

Reality blurs, just like a dream.

Drift through the hours, like a ghost,

In this eternal purgatory, I’m lost.’

I hadn’t realized I had forgotten to actually sing the words until my producer looked over at me expectantly. I shook my head, huffing out an exasperated sigh.

“Shit, sorry, take it from… take it from the chorus again, please?” My voice cut through the noise – or tried to, at least. 

The beat started over again, a few measures behind where I needed to be.

“Guitar wails like a distant scream…” I attempted once more. “Drift through the hours, like a lost– fuck, I fucked it up.”

The collective revelry around me was a wall – it fucked me up. I could feel a headache coming on.

“Can we pipe down a bit?” I groaned, massaging my temples. My ears began to ring a bit, growing louder with every passing second that the chatter continued. “Guys, shut the hell up.”

My pleas fell on deaf ears. The ringing persisted, drowning out everything else in the room. 

“Yuki,” I directed at her, a little louder now. She seemed to have been leading the conversation. “Yuki, please.”

No one ever listens.

And they didn’t. They weren’t fucking listening. I tried to make eye contact with her, but I couldn’t seem to make out her face from the rest. The room was blurry, moving side to side, hazy around the edges. I held my forehead, groaning quietly.

They were so fucking loud.

No one ever listens.

Downing the rest of my bourbon in one go, I – in a fit of frustration – hurled the glass against the wall above the couch where my friends were comfortably seated. It shattered, sending shockwaves through the room as stunned silence replaced the previous chaos.

“Yuki,” I mumbled, swaying slightly on my feet. “Shut the fuck up. I’m trying to.. Try’na fuckin’...”

“Choso,” She began quietly, her mouth slightly agape. Had she always had a twin sister, or was I dreaming? “Your… your nose– are you okay?”

I put a hand up to my nose, feeling around for anything out of the ordinary. My fingers were red when I brought them back, painted with a viscous crimson fluid. Another fell from my nostril onto the pale skin of my wrist. 

My nose is bleeding.

I wiped my nose, waving them off. “I’m fine,” I slurred – I wasn’t, least I don’t think I was, but the show must go on, or some shit like that. “Can we just… keep going, please?”

A thick, heavy silence enveloped the studio. With all of them finally keeping their mouths shut, I could hear myself think again. The ringing in my ears began to subside, and I, looking over my shoulder at Chuck– Chris, whatever the fuck– demanded, “Play that shit again.”

He swallowed nervously, clearly caught off guard by my outburst. Still, he pressed a button or two, and the song started all over again.

Drift through the hours like a ghost,

In this eternal purgatory, I’m lost.

a/n: hiiii! I hate the way this was written, but I always hate my first chaps hehe. NEXT ONE WILL BE SM BETTER I SWEAR!! this is gonna be a long, slow burn, smutty ass fanfic (loosely [very loosely] based on the show 'the idol'). and by based on ofc I mean I watched an ep and I was like damn I could make this better. Enter our beloved emo boy choso kamo. anyway!! comment your thoughts/wishes/etc!! I love an interactive community of loyal commenters and I loveee reading all of ur thoughts and lovely remarks!! keep them coming, and ill keep the chapters coming in retribution! love you bunches!

comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

credits: @/2OARIN on twitter (cover art). If you know the other artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work! I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

taglist: @missphanosaur18 , @bontensbabygirl, @megumissunshine, @chocoyanchan, @littlelovebug98, @lucisimpongod, @xochyw, @jaegerstan222 , @electro-supremacy, @mellytheteddy, @clover0310 , @soraya-daydreams, @priussy, @insanehumantinker, @staygoldsquatchling02, @nonksity, @hinata7346, @chososwhoresblog, @ynjimenez , @soraya-daydreams , @nonksity , @hinata7346 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @sad-darksoul , @sasuke-slut , @yuunie135 , @bratkuna , @aydene , @mshope16 , @pretentiousteentrash , @galactict3a , @kokos-property , @moonriseoverkyoto , @lyn-soso , @arilostie , @violetmatcha , @markleeisdabestdrug , @erensdior , @hp-simp505 , @fushiguro-kyuuuuuu , @bontensbabygirl , @switch-godess , @honey-yuh , @ddotsie

wanna join the taglist? | smoke and mirrors; chapter index

#smoke and mirrors ☄. *. ⋆ #notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ #choso kamo #choso #choso x reader #choso x you #choso x jjk #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x you #choso kamo jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #choso fluff #choso angst #choso smut #choso kamo fluff #choso kamo smut

[notiddygxthgf]

the one where rindou is drawn to your purity, and is determined to be the one who takes it from you.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

.𝟏 | 看護婦

.𝟐 | 傘

.𝟑 | 魅惑

.𝟒 | 計画

.𝟓 | 焼きチーズ

.𝟔 | 佐藤

.𝟕 | 土砂降り

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

master list + more!

last update... 2/27/2024

#notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ #haitani brothers ❁ཻུ۪۪♡ #rindou haitani #haitani rindou #rindou haitani x reader #rindou x reader #rindou smut #rindou fluff #rindou angst #haitani brothers #ran haitani #bonten #bonten trio #tenjiku #tokyo rev x reader

[notiddygxthgf]

Hiii , I hope you're doing well~<3

This is a thirst because it's eating me up inside that I have no one to talk to about tr🥲

I was thinking about which of the guys would have their partners 😽 as their wallpaper

And I know with my heart and coochie that Hanma is on the list.

Also , Pretty thing has me on a hook🙏 Rindou Haitani supremacy 💅♥️

Much love from Puerto Rico !❤️‍🔥🇵🇷

a/n: omg thank you for all of your support lovebug! sending u even more love TO puerto rico from (and this wont surprise you) the east coast! I'm glad you love pretty thing as much as I do omg, its such a fun little story to write! definitely a much needed break after pouring my heart into party monster LMFAOAOO.

please please please send more thirsts my way!! I'm trying something new!!! I hope u enjoy it pookie bear!!!

CW!! smut under the cut

There was a reason he had a well-thought password on his phone. One might assume it was due to the nature of his job, and while that may have been partially true, it wasn't his only motivation for keeping things on lockdown. He had your coochie set as his wallpaper -- a little reminder of what he was working so hard for, of what he would be coming home soon. It never failed to ease the tension away from his tired shoulders. Even after a difficult job, even as he typed on his phone with freshly bloodied knuckles, the sight brought a smile to his face. There you were, plush thighs parted for him, garters tight over your skin, fresh hickies placed strategically over your otherwise perfectly unblemished skin. Looking as breathtaking as always.

The way your sheer pink-lace panties clung to your heat should have been considered a crime (and then, again, what was he if not a criminally indulgent man?) His mouth would water just looking at the damp fabric, soaked through with your arousal, leaving nothing to the imagination. He could almost taste you on his tongue.

Always, always, within a matter of minutes, he would find himself looking for your contact. It would ring, click, and then your voice would come through -- pretty, muffled, tantalizing.

He would grin as he uttered back to you, "Miss you, baby. Can I come by?"

And that grin on his face would only grow wider when he heard you say, "Yes, please."

HANMA, Mikey, Ran, WAKASA, Baji, Draken, Shinichiro, Taiju, INUI, Kokonoi, Mitsuya(ish), IZANA, Kakucho, Rindou.

taglist: @midtwenties-angst, @sleepysnk, @enneadec, @noaabean, @galactict3a, @em1e, @drakensdarling, @wakashawty, @satanlovesusall666, @sin-and-punishment, @mztoman, @sanzuicide, @bontensbabygirl, @strawberrychrome, @scaraphobia, @bertholdts--butt, @xiedoll, @missgab, @keiskyutie, @slvdsjjk , @ilyrmsha , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn, @mikeys-bike-slut, @kzuyii, @menrami, @darlettie, @simpfully-heartbroken, @luv-bud, @tokyorevengersslut69, @mikeys-bike-slut,

wanna join the taglist? | masterlist

#ask notiddygxthgf ✧˖*°࿐ #notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ #thirsts ⋆ #wakasa imaushi x reader #hanma shuji x reader #manjiro sano x reader #sano manjiro x reader #shinichiro sano x reader #baji keisuke x reader #ryuguji ken x reader #taiju shiba x reader #inui seishu x reader #kokonoi hajime x reader #mitsuya x reader #izana kurokawa x reader #kakucho x reader #rindou haitani x reader #ran haitani x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x you

[notiddygxthgf]

In the search for solace, Nanami stumbles right into the arms of an exotic dancer. In the search for money, an exotic dancer finds more than she bargained for. In the heat of the moment, a contractual relationship turns into something more.

(or; the one where sugar daddy!nanami is sweet on his girl)

❝ TELL NOBODY I CONTROL YOU.

I BROKE YOU JUST TO OWN YOU.

THEY CAN'T TELL THAT I LOVE YOU

'CUZ YOU'RE LOYAL, BABY,

I LOVE WHEN YOU'RE SUBMISSIVE

LOVE IT WHEN I BREAK SKIN

YOU FEEL PAIN WITHOUT FLINCHIN'

SO SAY IT,

"GIVE ME TOUGH LOVE!"

LEAVE ME WITH NOTHING WHEN 

I COME DOWN.

MY KIND OF LOVE,

PUSH ME AND CHOKE ME 'TIL

I PASS OUT.

WE DON'T GOTTA BE IN LOVE, NO

I DON'T GOTTA BE THE ONE, NO

I JUST WANNA BE ONE OF YOUR 

GIRLS TONIGHT, OH.

PUSH ME DOWN, HOLD ME DOWN.

SPIT IN MY MOUTH WHILE YOU TURN ME ON.

I WANNA TAKE YOUR LIGHT INSIDE.

DIM ME DOWN, SNUFF ME OUT,

HANDS ON MY NECK WHIE YOU PUSH IT OUT,

AND I'M SCREAMIN' OUT,

"GIVE ME TOUGHT LOVE!"

LEAVE ME WITH NOTHING 

WHEN I COME  DOWN.

MY KINDA LOVE.❞

╭─ ⋅ ─ ✩ ─ ⋅ ─╮

▷ prologue

▷ trust issues (her)

▷ out of my mind (him)

╰─ ⋅ ─ ✩ ─ ⋅ ─╯

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : jan 20, 2024

cw/tags: nanami kento x reader, nanami kento x you, nanami kento, sugar daddy au, stripper au, slow burn, slow romance, nanami needs therapy lol, savior complex, unhealthy coping mechanisms, semi Public sex, eventual smut, smut, rough sex, oral sex, bdsm, Dom/sub undertones, nasty ass sex, female reader, satoru gojo is a bad influence and a gr8 wingman, kinky shit happens, grief, mourning, exhibitionism, size difference, reader hasdaddy issues. brought to u by the bitch who wrote best friends brother

#notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ #my kinda love ʕ•㉨•ʔ #nanami #nanami smut #nanami fluff #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #choso kamo #gojo satoru #yuuji itadori

[notiddygxthgf]

8. night together

★ pairings: plug!wakasa imaushi x f!reader

★ synopsis: the one where you have the hots for your dealer, and Wakasa is always eager to please a customer. (don't let your bf stop you from finding ur hubby)

★ content warning: smut, angst, lotta porn w a lotta plot, car sex, dealer wakasa, cheating, oral sex, sneaky link, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, sex while high, consensual drug use, mentions of abuse, unprotected sex, so much more..., PUSSYDRUNK WAKASA, unprotected sex, slight angst (but it has nothin on what's coming lol).

★ a/n: SORRY FOR THE LONG DELAY HEHE!! this chapter was originally one big one, but then I split it into wo, and then I just put it back into one big old chapter bc why not yall deserve it -- HAPPY 4/20!!!!! next chapter prob gonna be coming in the next few days bc its already basically done lol. THANK U ALL 4 UR SUPPORT!!! ITS A LONG ONE, ENJOY &lt;;33 ;) (YOU KNOW THE DRILL. COMMENT UR THOUGHTS/WISHES!!)

★ w.c.; 10.4k

previous part | next part

THIS WASN’T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN. For the sake of your own emotional well-being, you had sworn off intimacy – not including sex, of course – with Wakasa until further notice. Non-sexual intimacy was dangerous territory for a hopeless romantic, and you knew that. This little hot fling the two of you had would turn serious real quick. The two of you were supposed to be drinking tea together – well, actually, you had sent Waka off to take a shower. Alone. Yet, somewhere along the way, one thing had led to another, and the next thing you knew your clothes had disappeared and the two of you were pressed against one another beneath the hot water. He had been placing a series of wet, open-mouthed kisses on your damp skin, bringing his arms around your bare waist.

So much for the whole no-intimacy thing.

Wakasa kissed your lips. He pulled back, licking his own, then he reached for one of the bottles on the shelf next to the two of you. Double-checking that it was shampoo, he poured some into his palm. He gave it a quick lather before smearing it over your hair. His hands – skilled, strong – worked the shampoo into your scalp, massaging your skin in a way that had your eyes fluttering shut.

He reached behind your ears. “Tilt your head back, baby,” He told you.

For some reason, you obliged, letting him tilt your head back beneath the waterfall. His fingers scrubbed the tender skin of your temple. The warm water washed away the shampoo residue in your hair and on your scalp.

His touch was so gentle, like he was afraid to hurt you.

How did we get here? You wondered.

“The bathroom is gonna be the first door on the right,” you sighed, dropping a stack of neatly folded clothes and towels into his hand. “Holler if you need anything.”

Wakasa pursed his lips. He set the towels down on the table, keeping his eyes trained on you. He made no sudden move to go to the bathroom. Instead, he brushed your hair out of your face with a gentle hand. 

“Might I request you join me, princess?” He hummed.

You felt your face burn. 

Wakasa kissed your forehead, squeezing the rest of the shampoo out of your hair. 

You took the bottle from him, offering, “Can I wash your hair?”

His eyes widened. For a moment, you noted, he looked to have been caught off guard. Still, he reached for the ponytail in his hair and tugged it out, letting his pretty golden locks fall over his face and his broad shoulders. The purple hues patterning his hair darkened beneath the weight of the water almost immediately.

He looked so beautiful like this. His pretty, girlish face was slightly damp, tinted pink as tiny beads of water rolled off of his lashes. As he let his hair get wet, running his hands through it, he looked so serene – then promptly flipped his hair back. This was the first time, you realized, that you had seen his whole face. Better yet, the first time you’d seen his whole body. He was perfect, chiseled like he had been sculpted out of marble. His tattoos glistened beneath the steady stream of water. You watched the droplets roll down between his pecs, down his toned abdomen, and further down unto –

“You just g’nna stare or do you wanna help me?” He asked, snapping you out of your daze. He had this all-knowing, shit-eating grin plastered right over the lower half of his face. 

You rolled your eyes, dripping a generous amount of your expensive shampoo into your palm and then promptly slapping it onto his head. His hands slid around your waist, head tilted back while you massaged the shampoo into his hair.

He sighed, letting his eyes close.

You felt your chest warm at the slight movement. He trusts me.  

One of the most feared men in the entirety of Tokyo was in the shower with you, breathing slowly like he’d waited his whole life to feel so calm, so intimate. One of the most feared men in Tokyo was letting you put your girly-smelling shampoo in his hair.

He had put his trust in your hands. For a minute, you were scared you would drop it.

You turned the two of you around, bracing your hand on his chest while the water washed the shampoo away. He moved his hands from your waist to scrub the remainder out, strong arms rippling and dripping with water as they reached behind his head.

He was mesmerizing.

Subconsciously, you found yourself wandering closer to him, closer to the valley of flesh left exposed after he threw his head back. Your lips, more specifically, found their way to his neck, licking and sucking the skin. Wakasa’s teeth flashed when your teeth slipped over the mark you were trying to give him, though he didn’t flinch or even open his eyes. When you elected to run your flattened tongue over the junction between his neck and his collarbone, applying some light suction there, he leaned into you. For the first time, you could taste him, down to the slight saltiness of his skin. It was intoxicating.

You wanted more.

“ Mmm,” he hummed. “I’m s’pose to be the one spoilin’ you tonight, doll.”

You pulled your lips from his skin, but you didn’t go very far, keeping your nose pressed to his skin as you inhaled sharply. You could still smell his cologne – albeit very faintly. In a moment, he wouldn’t smell like him . He would smell like you, like your strawberry-scented bath soap. 

“Don’t see why we can’t do both,” You murmured into his skin. Reaching behind him, you pawed around until you felt the shower gel bottle brush against your hand. You tugged it off the rack, then moved away from him. 

Wakasa watched with soft, downturned eyes as you put some into the palm of your hand. You gave it a quick lather before placing your hands on his shoulders, then you set off on your mission to coat his entire chest in the pink, strawberry-scented foam.

He turned his nose up at the smell. 

“You don’t like?” You hummed. Honestly, it didn’t matter what his answer was. This was the only soap you had. You were going to get him nice and clean, even if it meant he smelled like strawberry shortcake afterward.

“Nah, it’s cute,” He replied. Still, he looked away from your focused face. After a brief silence, he offered. “Would you believe me if I told ‘ya no one’s ever done this for me?”

You knitted your brows together. “You’ve never showered with anyone?”

Wakasa chuckled, licking his lips. “‘Course I have,” he said. “You’re just the first one who's ever gotten so close.”

Despite the fact that you were currently feeling him up – washing him, you were washing him – you felt your face begin to get a little hot. “Don’t like people touching you like this?”

He shook his head. “Nah. Too intimate.” 

But we’re…

You paused your scrubbing motions. “Do you want me to stop?”

There was a pause, then he explained, “Feels nice when you do it.”

His voice turned you on like crazy. You couldn’t deny that much.

So you continued lathering him up, reaching beneath his arms to spread the soap onto his back, and then back to his torso. Too intimate. He was right. This was way too intimate considering the two of you were currently walking a thin line. A very thin line.

“Kay,” You smiled. You were okay with that.

Whatever the two of you had, you didn’t want it to end.

Raking your nails over his skin gently, you followed the curves of his waist down to his hips. All of a sudden, the air shifted again. That tension from earlier was back.

So, instead of letting it drip on that way, you brought him in for a slow, passionate kiss. He leaned into you immediately, letting you lather more soap over his navel. When your hand brushed past his crotch, small finger catching on the large appendage he had between his legs, his breath caught.

You could have continued on as if nothing happened. You should have. But, for some reason, you couldn’t move your hand on its own. You brought it down over the sensitive skin again.

This time, his hand caught your wrist.

“Baby,” He spoke, voice a little deeper than before, “Don’t start something you won’t finish.”

You froze for a moment. Finally, feeling your heartbeat quicken ever so slightly, you melted into him. “Who said I wouldn’t finish it?”

He smirked at you, taking a moment to drink in your flustered appearance. Still, he let go of your hand, allowing you to continue exploring the lower half of his body at a pace that suited you. 

This is okay, you thought to yourself. Then, as you felt something begin to press into your hand, you affirmed yourself once more, This is okay.

His lips moved for yours. You let him slip his venom into your mouth, lord knew you were poisoned long before you stepped into the shower with him. He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours and breathing in perfect synchrony with the rapid beating of your heart. His hungry lavender hues drank you in. 

You had never felt so vulnerable in your entire life. Subconsciously, your arms folded over the front of your bare body, shielding you from his passionate gaze. 

“Lemme see, princess,” He pried your hands away. When you let him brace his strong hands on your hips and back you into the corner of the shower, he sought out your lips with newfound passion. Through a mouthful of you, broken into syllables, he mumbled into your lips, “Fuckin’– breathtaking– y’know?”

You found yourself melting into him for the hundredth time. 

“Wish I could paint a picture of ‘ya like this,” He breathed, words heavy with lust and… something more, it seemed. He kissed you again. “You don’t know how long I ‘been dreamin of you, sugar.”

Sugar. He was so sweet that you felt tears begin to pool at the corners of your eyes. Quickly, you brought yourself back down to earth. You had already made the mistake of stepping out. You wouldn’t ruin what you had with Wakasa over some ambiguous feelings – no, that would mean it was all for nothing. 

One day, just as all good things did, your time with him would come to an end. You knew it. Flings like these rarely lasted. You knew that was most likely for the best; maybe, by some random stretch of luck, Wakasa would vanish from your life altogether, leaving it the way it had been before you had met him. Maybe, just maybe, things could go back to the way they were.

But you knew deep down that wasn’t what you wanted. You knew deep down that there would be a 5’2 gap in your heart when Wakasa decided he was done having his fun with you. He would pick up and leave one day, just as you knew he had done for so many others before you, and he would leave you with little more than the fleeting memory of his touch on your skin. Perhaps months, years, decades afterwards, you would look at your skin and – just as you did now – see his lips pressing little memoirs of his passion into your skin. Perhaps you would feel his kisses on your lips, his devilish tongue pouring empty promises and words of endearment into your parched mouth; the way his lips would curl into a smile because he knew his words made you weak.

He made you weak in the best way imaginable. 

It was then that you realized that you didn’t want him to leave; not a week, month, or year from now. Even if it was all fake, you wanted to stay – wanted to stay here with him in this pretty little illusion the two of you had created together a little longer.

You opened your mouth, and the words almost left your mouth like some desperate, bubbling plea. 

‘Stay with me’

The realization struck you with the force of a trainwreck; you were falling for him.

Wakasa hooked his finger beneath your chin, tilting your head up so you were looking him. You hadn’t even realized you had looked away.

“You’re so beautiful,” He smiled weakly, like the sight of you had taken his breath away. “You make it so hard to leave.”

You ached for him. “Stay the night,” you breathed.

Wakasa captured you in another dizzying kiss. It was slower this time, passionate, intimate. It had you reeling for more. You wanted all of him tonight – for all you knew, tomorrow would come and he would leave you. He would leave you to be conflicted by your lonesome, and all of this would be a foggy memory.

You wanted to paint an image of him so vivid in your memory that you would never forget it – that you would never forget about this night, about how he looked, felt… tasted.

So, without another word, you dropped to your knees. Splaying your hands out over his thighs, you craned your neck up to look at him. He peered down at you with the element of surprise playing at his features.

You wrapped your hand around his semi-hard shaft. “Wanna taste you,” You licked your lips. “Can I?”

Wakasa mirrored your action, flitting his tongue over his pink lips while he slicked some more of his violet tresses back – revealing more of that beautiful face you wished you could call your own. “Go ‘head, pretty baby,” he purred, petting his hand over your hair to brush it away from your face. “‘M all yours.”

His words – however fictitious they may have been – made your heart squeeze. 

You pressed a kiss to his tip, gauging his reaction. When you saw him lazily smiling down, you took him into your mouth without any further warning.

He exhaled sharply, leaning over you to brace a hand on the shower wall. Th e muscles in his arm tensed as he tried to gain stable footing. Hungrily, you raked your eyes up his navel, the roses and ink tatted on his toned chest, his broad shoulders – you wondered if he knew you burned for him.

Sucking him back into your mouth, you hollowed your cheeks. You worked up quite a bit of spit near the back of your throat, pulling off to spit on him before practically swallowing him back up. 

Wakasa sighed. He brought his spare hand town to caress the side of your face, to make you look at him while your lips were stretched around his length. He throbbed in your mouth, growing bigger as you felt him get harder.

“Fuck,” He breathed. “Y’look good with my dick in your mouth, baby.”

You felt that way. When his hand slipped behind his head to guide your head gently, bobbing you back and forth on his dick. You were struggling to fit the whole thing in your mouth, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you were determined. His shudders and sighs spurred you onward.

If this was going to be the last night you ever spent with him, you wanted to make it memorable.

“Takin’ it so well,” He purred, guiding your head while simultaneously allowing you to set your own pace. 

You felt that fire in your core reignite, making you press your legs together while you pulled back for a moment to slurp on the tip rather unceremoniously, spit dripping down his dick. You tilted your head to the side, wrapping your hands around what you couldn’t fit into your mouth to work the rest of him. Your tongue swirled around his dick.

As you braced your hands on his hips to sink your head the rest of the way down, you met some resistance, eyes watering as you felt yourself gag on him. He pulled you back a bit. You swatted his hand away, pushing him back into your mouth with determination. 

Above you, the muscles in Wakasa’s arm tensed. With a blissful sigh, he leaned his head back. The water ran over his hair and down his face, sticking his lashes together in bunches. He was so fucking pretty, it made your heart skip a beat.

His chest rose and fell steadily, water droplets streaming down his body. It made for the perfect lubricant. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, which parted soon after to release a trembling sigh of your name. 

Then his hand fisted itself in your hair, and you felt yourself mewl. Just when you went back for more of him, he tugged you off. His dick sprang free with an uncharacteristically funny pop. A glance to your left made you realize that the clear glass of the shower door had fogged up.

You knitted your brows, peering up at Wakasa through lust-ridden eyes. “W’happened?” You asked, still a little breathless. “Was it bad?”

“No, shit, you were doing great,” Wakasa shook his head. Judging by the way his thigh trembled beneath your grasp, he wasn’t lying to save your ego. He reached for your shoulders, tugging you up onto your feet. He pressed you further into the wall. He sealed his lips together with yours, bringing his hands around the small of your back. “Wanna feel you,” He sighed into your mouth. “Made me miss your pretty pussy.”

You chuckled, though you felt the river between your legs trickle down your thigh at his words. You wouldn’t have been surprised if Wakasa revealed that he was some sort of incubus all along. “You just had it an hour ago, baby.”

Baby. You froze. The nickname had slipped out.

He knew it. With a small grin resting on his lips, he pressed your noses together. “I know,” he panted. “Think ‘m addicted.”

“Yeah?” You played dumb. Easing into his touch, you allowed his hand to slip between your bodies. “How’d that happen?”

“Been cravin ‘ya like an addict since I first met ‘ya. Got me actin’ a fool, ‘s like an itch,” He hummed. His fingers squished the chub of your stomach, and then traveled down further – towards that ache between your legs. He kissed you again, for the hundredth time. “Only ‘that pussy can scratch.”

You let him bury his face in your neck, placing hot kisses on your sensitive flesh. Tangling your fingers in his bi-colored locks, you sighed. “What a shame. How should we go about resolving this problem?”

And then, as he roughly gripped your hips and then promptly turned you around – pressing your face into the wet wall – you gasped.

“Depends,” He continued, like nothing had changed. His voice was deep, vibrating between your own ribs. Slowly, carefully, he pressed into your backside – a reminder of his desires sitting hard and warm against the meat of your ass. “You g’nna deny a poor addict his fix?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” You arched into him. With a smile, you continued playing along with him. “Someone’s got’ta satisfy those cravings.”

He nudged your legs open with his foot. You let him. 

“You’re playin’ with fire, baby,” He purred, words playing at the soft spot you had for him. “You wouldn’t mind me keepin ‘ya up all night, would ‘ya?”

All night . You would handle everything that came with being his, even if that meant losing some sleep in the process. Well, that, and your ability to walk.

“Bring it on,” was your answer. “I can take it.”

“Yeah? Think you can handle me, pretty girl?” His hand reached around your torso to cup your breasts, shielding your sensitive nipples from the ice cold wall of the shower. The comfort was only brief, however, as he began kneading the flesh with his strong, warm hands. “Now’s the time for any objections.”

It was hard to focus on him when his tip had already coaxed itself in between your folds. You shuddered, pressing back into him.

Turning your head around, you brought your foreheads together. The way his lips gravitated towards you was remarkable. You locked lips again, wordlessly sealing your fate – parting only to mutter your final request. “Pull out, okay?”

He groaned at your words, pulling you back until your ass was flush with his hips. His grip, unrelenting, would surely leave bruises tomorrow. You didn’t care.

“Tap me if it hurts, princess,” He crooned, warm breath sending chills down your bare spine. Then, without so much as a warning, he lined his tip up with your aching hole and pressed his hips forward. Despite the burning stretch, it felt so good to be filled by him. It was as if your body had been made for it.

★

“ Waka , please, I– ” You pleaded with the man. Your hand had found its way down to his head, gripping his damp, disheveled locks like your life depended on it. In a matter of seconds, he had single-handedly reduced you to a babbling mess. “ Mnnnh -”

He groaned into your flesh. With your thighs pressed against both sides of his head, he made for a pretty sight. His hair was tied into a bun, though you had ruined most of it with your ruthless rutting. He did nothing to stop you as you clamped your legs over his ears, shamelessly riding his face.

Prying your legs away from his face, Wakasa gasped for air. His face was flushed a pretty shade of red. His eyes were wild, lustful as your juices dripped off the sides of his face. “Taste better than I dreamed of,” he panted.

You lifted your hips away from his face in an attempt to make it easier for him to breathe. Your efforts were in vain. He gripped your hips harshly, seating you on his face and then continuing to eat you up like a man starved. 

You found it difficult to pry your eyes away from him. He looked so happy to be trapped between your thighs like this, like he had been waiting ages for it. The way he sucked and slurped expertly at your dripping cunt had your legs trembling around him.

“Sit,” he mumbled through a mouthful of your clit. 

“Don’t wann’... ngh,” You leaned forward, bracing your hands over the bed frame while he dragged your hips back and forth, back and forth over his face until the friction was almost too much to bear. He had been eating you out for the last two hours straight, stopping only very briefly between orgasms. “G’nna crush you.”

“Sit,” he affirmed. You were in no state to disobey. “Ride my face.”

You reached one hand down again and tugged on his hair. To your shock, he liked it. You felt the vibration of his deep, guttural groan against the mess he had made between your legs. 

“Ka…  Kasa , please–” You managed to get out through a string of broken moans.

He moaned, pushing your hips up against his nose. He never stopped his incessant licking and sucking, tongue working you up to what would be your fourth orgasm of the night. Your pussy was sensitive, so sensitive, yet he wasn’t going any easier on you. At this rate, you were convinced you would have to beg for mercy.

“Can’t…” You panted. You weren’t sure you could finish another time. You were sore and tired, and you were beyond overstimulated.

“C’mon, princess,” he paused his desperate licking to beg. “Just one more.”

You licked your lips, feeling tears begin to well at the corners of your eyes again. It was all so much… too much. “I can’t,” you gasped.

“You can do it, baby,” He purred. Sucking harshly on your clit – and then making up for it with a few gentle licks – he added. “Jus’ one more for me, ‘kay?”

On cue, he slid his hands up to your waist, flipping the two of you over until it was him pinning you down at the foot of your bed. The towel he had laid out beneath the two of you was drenched. You weren’t sure if you could take any more.

“Waka, I don’t–” You began, abruptly cutting your own sentence off with a gasp as he took two digits and plunged them into your hole. “ Fuck .”

Wakasa’s long fingers immediately found your sweet spot, rubbing a slow, steady circle to ease you into the sudden intrusion before he began curling them upward. You saw stars.

You raised your head off the bed, trying to rest your weight on your trembling elbows so you could get a good look at him. You would never forget the sight of him on his knees like that, hungry eyes devouring your sweaty body while he worked you open like some sort of expert. His lips were red, shaped in an ‘o’ as he struggled to catch his breath. His hair – despite having been ruined by your legs – framed his pretty face the same way it usually did. His face was dusted with a gentle, rosy hue again.

You were embarrassed, oddly enough, and dropped your head down to cover your face with your hands. He couldn’t be real. There was no way this was real. It was too good to be true. “‘ Kasa, ple-ease ,”  you stammered. It was getting hard to form coherent sentences when he was in your guts like this.

He curved his fingers up into your cunt, marveling at the way you gripped him.

Somehow, despite the odds, the coil in your gut was drawing tighter and tighter. He was reaching deep inside of you and undoing you from the inside out like the lace strands of a tightly wound corset. You wanted more. No, fuck, you needed more. But in all honesty, you weren’t sure you could take any more. The brutal pace of his long, dextrous fingers was making your mind go blissfully blank, slurred words and broken moans pouring out of your mouth a mile a minute as you struggled to hold on. 

Then, something happened. He curved his fingers up sharply at just the right angle, thrusting his hand up and down, and – before you knew what was happening, you felt yourself squirting all over his arm.

“‘ Kasa -aah– ,” You whimpered as if that name were the only thing anchoring you down to the present. You chanted it like it was a mantra. Ignoring your cries, he moaned at the display, giving you only a few seconds to recover before he was doing the same thing again. “‘Kasa, ‘Kasa, ‘Kasa – fuck !”

“I know, baby, I know,” He reassured you. He began kissing his way back down your thighs. Somehow, his hand found yours, a firm grasp comforting you while tears poured from your eyes. “Y’er doin’ so good. Think ‘ya can do one more for me?”

Him. Do it for him.

It felt so fucking good – but it was so much. You didn’t know how to vocalize your feelings. 

He reached over you, onto the nightstand, and then produced your phone. “Gonna give you something to watch when I go home,” He mumbled. 

You saw the flash go on, and then he continued fingerfucking you.

“Say hi to the camera, baby,” He crooned. Pressing a kiss to the outside of your thigh, he added, “Taking it so well.”

You hid your face. “Waka,” You whined.

He tilted his head, grinning at you. 

In a brief moment’s width, his lips joined his fingers, tongue licking quick stripes over your abused clit while he pressed on that spot that made your vision go white.

“ Waka, wait,” You gasped. “Feel like ‘m g’nna pee.”

“Just relax, baby,” he mumbled into your dripping wet cunt. His lips departed from your flesh briefly, but only to roughly scoot your ass closer to his face. Then, completely disregarding your concerns, he quickened the pace of his fingers. His hair was tangled in your fist while the rest hung in strings over his face – for a moment, you didn’t even care that he was recording anymore. “‘M g’nna take care of ‘ya,” He groaned, the sound muffled by your trembling thighs. “G’nna make you feel real good, promise.”

“ Mmmfuck – wait,” You gasped. Your body, however, gave a different signal. You yanked his hair and then trapped his head between your thighs with your legs. The moans – increasing in pitch – were falling out of your mouth uncontrollably now. He had taken you to the point of no return, to the point where broken pleas of his name were the only thing coming from your lips. Your legs spasmed once more before you gushed all over his wrist again, spraying him in the face this time. He eagerly licked you up. Thankfully, he had moved your phone out of the way just in time. “‘ Ka-sa! ”

“Want ‘ya to see how perfect you look with my fingers in ‘ya,” Wakasa moaned against your clit, but the sound seemed to be swallowed down every time he sucked on the sensitive bud. “Keep goin’-- doin’ so good.”

The flash disappeared behind your thighs.

He gasped as you tugged harder at his tresses in response. You could feel your guts clenching around his finger like you were trying to push him out. The sheer power this man had over you was near absurd. In a span of six hours, he had gotten you to completely abandon your morals. Not only that, but he had you rocking your hips back on his fingers like a desperate whore, chasing that sweet sweet release you so desperately craved. 

“M’gh… fuck–” You pleaded, sentences reduced to mere gibberish. “‘Kasa, baby...”

He pulled away from your pussy, letting his fingers work you open, pressing deep into your g-spot. “I got you, baby,” He panted, peering up at you with such feverish hunger that it made you squirm. “Feel good?”

Desperately, you stumbled to find the right words. What came out, whatever, was a broken cry of  “Mhm”.

“Why don’t you tell the camera who’s makin’ you feel good, hm?” He hummed, continuing to abuse your hole with unwarranted strength. 

“ Wakasa ,” It slipped out. Truly, you had never intended to let it slip. Yet, still, when his fingers curled up against a particularly sensitive spot with all of the ease of a harpist plucking at the strings of your core, your lips spilled praise of his name. “‘Kasa, m’gn’na cum, fuck . ”

“Good kitty,” His smirk grew in size. He licked some of you off of his lips, and then hummed, “Cum for me.”

Instantaneously, somehow, his fingers pressed the right spot – just the right amount of pressure – then it snapped. The coil of your release snapped with all of the power of a freight train, your orgasm slamming into you in a way that had your back arching up off of the bed. Your hips jolted up against his fingers and his tongue, lips chanting his name like a mantra while feeling every last stroke of his long fingers against your walls. You could feel the shock tear through you in waves, tearing trembling gasps from your lungs while you expelled your juices all over his hand and the bed. “‘ Kasa,” you gasped again once the pleasure had cleared long enough for you to think. Not Takeomi, Wakasa. 

It felt so good to breathe his name, to claim him – even if he wasn’t necessarily yours. 

“Fuck, ” You mewled. Finally, you laid your head back. You felt fucking ruined . The drag of each of his knuckles against your hypersensitive walls as he fucked you – albeit much gentler than before, as if easing you down from your high – through the aftershocks of your orgasm was making you shake even harder. 

The flash turned off. He set your phone somewhere off to the side.

He slid his fingers out of you slowly, savoring the way you clenched around them one last time before pulling out. He sucked the slick of your arousal off of his fingers. 

“You’re a movie star, baby,” He teased, fixing the shorts you had lent him – Takeomi’s shorts, ironically enough – before collapsing next to you on the bed. The two of you panted, desperate to catch your breath. You were too weak to say anything as he turned your head to the side, pressing a passionate kiss to your lips. You could still taste yourself on his tongue – tangy, warm. “Did so good.”

You whimpered weakly in response. Wakasa chuckled, throwing his arm over your shaking form. 

“You okay, pretty girl?” He hummed, tucking your hair away behind your ear.

You were still too weak to respond, letting your trembling legs to the talking. 

“Gimme a sec,” he pushed himself off of the bed, sliding off the side and disappearing behind your bedroom door. The world seemed to spin in his absence, chest heaving slowly while you came down to earth. Everything was buzzing.

When Wakasa returned, he had a glass of water in his hand. He knelt beside you on the bed, picking your spent body up and then offering the cup to you. “Here, drink up,” he said. “Don’t pass out on me.”

You let him tilt the water into your mouth, dry lips lapping at the cold beverage like you hadn’t drank in days. You sighed. Fuck, that was refreshing.

He moved you back to the front of the bed, laying you down on the pillows while he tugged the towel out from beneath you. You were half expecting him to leave. He didn’t. Instead, he held you close to him, pulling the sheets over your body. His lips pressed kisses all over your forehead. 

It was… almost too intimate. Takeomi had never done anything like this for you before. The feeling had your face burning up. There were so many thoughts swimming around in your head now that you felt almost overwhelmed by your own emotions.

“‘Kasa…” You finally said. 

“Hm?” He hummed. He was so warm. The bed was barely big enough for the two of you.

“I can’t feel my legs,” You noted. “I can’t make it up to you.”

He shook his head. “Jus’ relax, doll.”

“You sure?” You asked again. “I don’t wanna give you blue balls.”

“I’ll be fine, princess,” He replied. 

You whined, poking him in the side. “Stop. I wanna make it up to you.”

“Yeah?” He hummed. He paused briefly while his eyes scanned the room, and then he turned back to you. “Y’know what would really make my night, doll?”

“Wha…?” You trailed off, voice teetering on the verge of a whisper.

“You got any of that Wedding Cake left over?” He asked. “I’ve been moving into a new penthouse. Lost my stash in transit.”

You felt yourself begin to smile. A smoke did sound nice right about now. “Yeah, you’re gonna have to spark though,” You sighed, nestling into his side. “Got a pipe and a grinder in the nightstand.”

Wakasa laughed. You rested your head on his bare chest, relishing in the way it felt. For a moment, you could pretend his heart was beating for you. “That beat, huh?” 

You nodded wordlessly. It was cold for a moment when he left your side, but it wasn’t long at all before he returned, this time with your glass pipe and grinder in hand. “‘There a lighter in there?” He asked.

“Mhm,” You giggled. You could stay here for hours with him sitting next to you on the bed, your head resting in his lap. Days, even. If only reality permitted such luxuries.

You tilted your head upward, watching him hold your pipe between two fingers while he popped open the grinder and placed a nug between the prongs. He ground it up, and then lightly tapped the side of the metal container. You watched carefully as he pinched some weed between his fingers and patted it down into the bowl. He repeated this process one more time until the bowl was full. 

“You’re gonna have to sit up,” he chuckled, tapping the side of the red pipe. The glass curvatures sparkled beneath the dim lamp on your nightstand. 

You followed his command – very weakly. He held the opening of the pipe up to your lips, instructing you to pinch the hole closed. He flicked the lighter once, twice, and then there was that familiar, faint sizzling sound as the flame finally took to the pipe. 

You sucked in, breathing the smoke in and then holding it there before exhaling. Immediately, you felt calm.

“Mmm,” you hummed. You took one more hit before snuggling into his side. To your surprise, he let you. One of the most dangerous men in Japan was letting you cuddle up next to him.

His lips formed a seal over the end of the pipe, lifting his arm up to light the bowl. When it began to sizzle, he let out a few small puffs, then took one big hit. You watched him eagerly as he rested his head against your headboard, exhaling the smoke up and away from the two of you like a chimney.

His features relaxed a bit. Then he smiled and looked at you, and you felt yourself freeze up. He was so perfect, so beautiful, you wished you could remember this moment forever. 

Somewhere along the way, your thumb had begun to trace the intricate linework on his tatted chest. 

He sparked up for you again, letting you suck two more hits out of the pipe before fanning some of the smoke away. The exchange continued for five or ten more minutes.

“I’m supposed to see Takeomi tomorrow,” You sighed, but you never once shifted away from him. 

Wakasa chuckled. “Don’t remind me about your boyfriend.”

Your hand traveled down, over his abs. You let your finger trace the lines there – he had a six-pack. 

“Do you have any tattoos other than the roses?” You asked him. You realized you had never really seen his back before.

Wakasa nodded. He pointed to his left arm, the one you weren’t leaning on, and tilted it towards you. “Got a dragon here,” He traced a finger over the ink – the face of a traditional dragon grinning back at you from his arm. “And I got a leopard on my back. Wanna see?”

You nodded, releasing his arm from your grasp. He leaned to the side, revealing his toned back, and – sure enough – there was ink. Colored ink. A white leopard stood immortalized on his back, standing on a bed of roses. The sheer detail of his backpiece had your mouth agape.

Seemingly moving on its own, your hand splayed itself over the leopard on his back. When he didn’t move away from you, you continued tracing it. “Did it hurt?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Nah. Burned, though.”

“Do they have a meaning?” You asked, referring to all of his tattoos, even though you couldn’t bring your hand away from his chiseled back. 

“The dragon means I’m loyal to the Black Dragons. Got roses ‘cus I’m’ma rose kinda’ guy,” He hummed. Turning his head to the side, he undid his bun. His smooth blond locks cascaded over his back. He gathered his hair to the side, draping it over one shoulder so you could continue looking at the ink on his back. “Got that one so people know who they’re talkin’ to.”

The leopard glared back at you. You paused your gentle tracing motion. “The White Leopard,” you breathed.

“Smart girl,” He chuckled, sitting back against the headboard. You watched him smoke again, exhaling through his nose this time. 

He offered the pipe to you.

This whole exchange was so intimate. You had never – not in the entirety of your relationship with Takeomi – been in a situation anything like this before. The way he draped an arm over you to pull you closer to him, the way he let you wash his hair in the shower, the sny comments here and there. This all seemed too intimate.

It begged the question: was this really just a hookup?

“Waka,” You felt yourself begin to ask before you understood what you were saying. It could have been the weed. You felt like your mouth had a mind of its own. Although, it could have been that your mind was too foggy for you to think anything of it. Your lips parted to utter the forbidden question. “What is this?”

He knitted his brows. “What do you mean, doll?”

“ This ,” You gestured to the lack of space between the two of you. “What are we?”

He pressed the pipe to your lips, torching the bowl. You took a deep breath and then breathed out more smoke. It was hard to focus with his hands so close to your face. His hands that still smelled a bit like you.

“‘Dunno,” He answered honestly. “Wha’d’ya want it to be?”

What did you want this to be? You didn’t know. Part of you wanted him to leave. Part of you wanted him to stay. Part of you wanted to be his, even if you tried to suppress those urges. 

“I don’t know,” Was your honest response. Really, you didn’t. “I don’t know what I want.”

“You don’t have to,” He noted. His eyes met yours. “We can fool around as long as you like. Jus’ casual fun, long as Take don’t find out.”

Casual fun. You were reminded, once again, that you were merely a placeholder. Wakasa was probably seeing other women.

You swallowed. “‘Kasa…”

“Yeah?” He hummed.

The words left your mouth on their own. 

“I think ‘m falling for you.”

The room got so quiet you could hear a pin drop. You felt your own heart sink in tandem. The energy in the room shifted, it was tense, and you knew you had said the wrong thing.

“That could be a problem,” He noted. 

Your stomach churned at his words. Shit. Shit. 

“I don’t care,” You replied. “I just want to know how you feel – where we stand.”

Wakasa helped himself to another much-needed hit. His eyes flitted upward, towards the ceiling as he held his breath. “The real question, doll, is where you stand,” he remarked, letting the smoke pour from his mouth. “For the sake of your relationship, I don’t think ‘ya want to know how I feel ‘bout you.”

You furrowed your brows. “I do want to know.”

“Don’t matter, princess. At the end of the day, you got a boyfriend,” He said. He took one more hit, and then added, “The moment feelings get involved, shit gets messy.”

He was right. You knew he was right, and yet you couldn’t help but feel your heart squeeze almost painfully at the realization. 

You figured you would try one more time, even if it meant embarrassing yourself. “If Takeomi weren’t in the picture…” You trailed off. “Would it be different?”

“Honestly, yeah. ‘M not a fan of being the side guy, especially not to Takeomi,” he said. Then, he turned to look at you. “But I do it for you.”

That comment made your head perk up, gazing back into his violet hues with wide eyes. “Why?”

“Dunno,” He sighed. His exterior dropped and, for a moment, you could see the truth in his eyes. He couldn’t tear them away from you. It was as if he was hooked on you too. “It’s stupid. I gotta be stupid… but ‘s like you’re my weakness. Can’t stay away from you.”

“This… this isn’t just casual sex, is it?” You swallowed, choosing to restate the obvious. “Do you feel it too?”

Wakasa averted his eyes, setting the pipe on the nightstand and laying his head on the pillow. “Yeah,” he finally said. “But what does it matter?”

You nestled next to him, pulling the blanket over the both of you. Wakasa, to your surprise, leaned into your touch. He seemed so vulnerable in the moment, like you made him weak. As weak as he made you. In the moment, he appeared to be the truest version of himself – a man with emotions who had dug himself a hole perhaps a little too deep.

“Casual sex is all I ‘ever known,” He added. “But you feel like home. ‘Never felt that before.”

You drew your body closer to him. It felt nice, to be so close.

“I know that makes me a moron,” He said. His eyes were trained very closely on the ceiling. “But you haven’t left my mind since the moment I first laid eyes on ‘ya. I thought it was g’nna be quick, y’know? The typical cliche of the unhappy girlfriend gettin’ her pleasure from someone else,” Here he paused, turning back to you. “I can handle that. Jus’ wasn’t expecting this.”

The tears returned to the corners of your eyes, beginning to pool as you struggled to hold your breath. You felt like one moment, one slight movement was all it took to break the bond the two of you shared. If that were the case, you would stay by his side as long as you could.

“I know he treats you like shit. I ‘seen the way he talks to you, and, just–” He trailed off. The way his hair fell into his face as he snuggled his head into the pillow was almost hypnotic. “I could treat you better. So much better, ‘know I could. I’ve never felt that for anyone before.”

He breathed in slow and then exhaled. 

He could very well have been lying. Chances are, he’d probably said something similar to the last girl. And the one before that. And the one before that. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care. However superficial, you drank up his words like you were thirsty and his lips were a fountain. You hadn’t even realized you were tearing up until you felt a teardrop roll down your cheek.

Why did life have to be so unfair?

Amidst the tranquil beauty of a dimly lit bedroom, the two of you laid side by side, locked in a silent embrace. You were undeniably confused, torn between your six-year relationship with a powerful kingpin and your undeniable affection for your forbidden lover.

Wakasa was enigmatic and alluring, with a mysterious air that drew you towards him like a moth to a flame. He was everything Takeomi wasn't – spontaneous, daring, and adventurous. You were captivated by his charisma and found yourself falling deeper into his spell.

Wakasa’s dark eyes gazed into yours, filled with longing. “I wanna make you mine,” he murmured. “So bad. Can’t help myself when ‘m with you.”

Your heart clenched. You knew you were betraying your boyfriend, but your feelings for Wakasa were too strong to ignore. "I want to be yours," she confessed, her voice wavering. “But ‘m scared.”

Wakasa’s thumb caressed your cheek, and you leaned into his touch, feeling torn between two worlds. "I know," he said softly. "It would be unfair for me to take this any further than we are right now. Don’t wanna do that to ‘ya.”

You closed your eyes, feeling torn and conflicted. You never imagined yourself being stuck in this situation, torn between two men, unsure of what to do. Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions, and your heart was in turmoil.

Wakasa peered into your eyes, his gaze heavy with conflicting emotions. "I don’t wanna be the reason for your pain, but I jus’ can’t bring myself to leave you alone," he said softly, his voice tinged with sadness. "I wanna be with ‘ya more than anything in the world, but it’s not that simple.”

You nodded, tears, building up in your eyes. You knew he was right, but the thought of remaining casual with him when you had all of these feelings swelling in your chest was unbearable. At the same time, however, you couldn’t imagine giving up what the two of you had. “I know,” you said, your voice choked with emotion. “But I don’t know if I can keep my emotions out of what we have… You’ve been so good to me, and I just…”

Wakasa cupped your face, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through your veins. “I wish I could run away with ‘ya, doll, but we gotta be realistic,” he said, his voice filled with longing. “There can’t be a happy ending for us. You know that, don’t ‘ya?”

Your heart clenched as you thought about the repercussions of your forbidden affair. You knew very well that Takeomi could easily send his men after your head. You would spend the rest of your life running. You weren’t sure you could handle that. "You're right," you said softly. "We can't continue like this."

Yet, still, as the of you sat there side by side – with the tension so thick you could have cut through it with a knife – you couldn’t shake the feeling that he didn’t really want to give you up. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you turned to look at Wakasa, the desire and longing in your gaze mirroring his own. 

Wordlessly, Wakasa closed the difference between the two of you, his hand tilting your chin up so your faces were aligned. Your lips met in the middle in a searing kiss, filled with all the passion and intensity that had been building between the two of you for so long. You couldn’t resist.

Your hands found their way to his shoulders, letting him pull you over his body and into his lap. You paused briefly before deepening the kiss, your lips moving hungrily against one another as if this were the last. Time seemed to stand still. Slowly, you felt yourself get lost in his lips.

Your bodies pressed up against one another, the heat and urgency of your longing evident in every delicate touch. You could feel the gentle ripple of his muscular torso beneath you as he breathed through the kiss. You knew you shouldn’t be indulging in him so shamelessly, not after the conversation the two of you had just had, but you couldn’t help it.

As he finally pulled away, breathing ragged, you looked into his eyes, chest heaving with emotion. “You’re making this harder,” you whispered, voice trembling. “Quit playing with my emotions.”

The intimacy beneath his touch was going to send you head over heels into a whirlwind romance. You didn’t need that. He didn’t need that.

Wakasa chuckled, though it didn’t quite reach his face. His eyes, filled with a mixture of desire and resignation, raked themselves over your half-naked body. “Sorry, doll,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Can’t help myself. Needed one more before I could go back to playin’ pretend.”

You took a deep breath, trying to halt your tears. “I know it’ll only complicate things further,” You said rather passionately. “But I don’t want to stop doing this with you. I don’t care if we have to sneak around.”

Wakasa smiled almost sadly. He looked as if his heart was aching. “Me neither,” he murmured, voice gentle. “We can keep seeing each other. Jus’ leave our personal feelings out of it, yeah?”

You nodded. You understood what he meant, even though it hurt. You couldn’t afford to let your emotions take control and jeopardize everything you had. You had to be careful and keep your feelings in check. One misstep could ruin this entire arrangement for both of you.

You sighed. “I don’t want him goin’ after us.”

Wakasa’s hand found its way over to yours. “I’ll keep ‘ya safe. Promise,” he said.

You didn’t care if it was an illusion. He looked so ethereal beneath you, hair splayed out on the pillow around his face like a halo. He was so vulnerable, so perfect. Wakasa’s eyes were filled with a mixture of longing and determination. “And if ‘ya change ‘yer mind about being with him,” he said huskily, his hand reaching up to caress your cheek one more time. “I’m a call away.”

You felt your resolve crumble as you crashed your lips down on his, mouths melding together for what must have been the hundredth time that night. You moaned softly, moving your hands from his waist to the pillow beneath his head as you felt him brace his hands on your hips.

You drew a hand back to slip between your heated bodies, dragging down the tatted flesh of his chest with a new purpose. When you felt him harden beneath you, you began to rock your hips back and forth.

“Mmh,” he hummed happily, letting you explore his body. “How do you feel about another round, princess?”

“Very strongly, actually,” You teased, already reaching for the drawstrings on his shorts – Takeomi’s shorts, actually. Wakasa laid back, letting you free his growing erection from the constraints of his clothes.

You spat into the palm of your hand, wrapping it around the head of his dick and then working the spit over the shaft – getting him nice and wet for you. Not like he hadn’t already been dripping from eating your pussy for two hours straight.

“G’nna ride me, pretty girl?” He asked, sliding his hands up your waist while he watched you hover over him. This was moving quickly. Not like you had any objections to that, of course. Clearly, he didn’t either. 

You didn’t grace him with a response, instead positioning the tip in line with your dripping hole and then sinking down on him. After the third time that night, there was hardly any stretch. He had worked you open real good.

He gasped, letting his eyes fall shut. You lifted your hips and then sank down on him again. You were still wet from the last two hours of your night with Wakasa, yet the filthy squelching sound your cunt made as it squeezed around him caught even you off guard.

“Think your man knows’is girl is bouncing on my dick right now?” He tutted, though he let you set the pace, sliding back and forth in a way that had the both of you panting for more. The stretch felt amazing – like you could feel him in your stomach. “Raw?”

Fucking back onto his dick, you couldn’t fight the strangled noises that seemed to tear themselves from your core. “‘S big,” You gasped. It took all of the strength you had not to collapse from the force of your tremble as he braced his feet on the bed. Sensing your struggle, he fucked up into you, meeting your thrusts in the middle and sliding in even deeper. “ Fuck , I feel it in my guts.”

“So wet, baby,” he moaned – sinful, sultry, beautiful. When you looked down, his brows were scrunched together, face contorted with concentration. You slowed down to savor the way your hole sucked him in. He hissed, “G’nna make me finish too soon if you don’t cut it out.”

“Mmh,” you giggled, letting him do all of the work for you. He was so good to you. “Want you to cum inside.”

So good, in fact, you thought you might give him a treat.

His eyes widened. “Yeah? I- hah, ” he breathed.

You nodded.

“Fuck,” he groaned, arching his head off the back of the pillow. His lips parted to make way for an uncharacteristically high-pitched whimper. “G’nna… be the death of me.”

You could say the same about him.

I obviously do not own tokyo revengers or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

wanna join the taglist for wakasa imaushi? | or click here to read more

#notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers #wakasa imaushi #wakasa x reader #wakasa imaushi x reader #imaushi wakasa #wakasa fluff #wakasa smut #wakasa imagines #takeomi akashi #bonten #tenjiku #toman #brahman #shinichiro sano #wakasa #takeomi #smut #plug! au #just read it lol #its super sexy #HAPPY MF 4/20

[notiddygxthgf]

the one where you have the hots for your dealer, and Wakasa is always eager to please a customer. (based on "Party Monster" by The Weeknd.)

PARTY MONSTER !

wakasa imaushi x reader

1:35 ───ㅇ───── 4:09

.↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

╭─ ⋅ ─ ✩ ─ ⋅ ─╮

▷ twelve-thousand yen

▷ grievances

▷ take it

▷ calm before the storm

▷ passing glance

▷ misbehave

▷ the thing

▷ night together

▷ daybreak

▷ don't look back

▷ 12:01 am

▷ three months

▷ best buds

▷ love u too

▷ waka's girl

╰─ ⋅ ─ ✩ ─ ⋅ ─╯

🅲🅾🅼🅿🅻🅴🆃🅴

master list + more!

#party monster ⋆ ★ #notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ #wakasa #wakasa imagines #wakasa imaushi #imaushi wakasa #wakasa imaushi x reader #wakasa x reader #wakasa x you #wakasa smut #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x you #plug ! au #wakasa is a FREAK #just read it lol it hot I promise

[notiddygxthgf]

6. 佐藤 (sato)

★ pairings: rindou haitani x f!reader

★ synopsis: rindou haitani is drawn to your purity, and he's determined to be the one who takes it from you.

★ c.w.: smut, slow burn, corruption kink, obsession, slightly toxic relationship, princess complex, rindou is a huge simp for reader lmao, but he would never admit it, reader is an innocent lil virgin child, ran is the supportive older brother we all need. tw: use of the name y/n (im sorry I had no other choice).

★ a/n: good afternoon people of whoville. I may or may not have downed a Buzzball my roommate got me as a gift on an empty stomach at 10 AM today because I thought my mom would be coming. Idk why I keep underestimating white girl liquor, that shit has me fucked up every time. ANYWAY!! that being said, this chap is obv beta, unedited, virgin. I hope u all enjoy!

★ w.c.; 4k-ish

chapter index

THE GIRL HAD SOMETHING CLUTCHED tightly in her small hand. It was a crinkled brown baggie. Rindou eyed it up rather dubiously.

“Good morning,” he said, though it sounded rather uncertain.

The two of you were standing beneath the tree where he had met you the last time, the one in front of your apartment. Rindou was wearing a baggy sweater and jeans. You were wearing a similar sweater over your uniform, oddly enough, but it looked a lot cuter on you.

She dropped the little baggie into the palm of his hand. 

“I made it for you,” She said.

He tilted his head. A quick scan down the side of the bag revealed that her statement was true. His name was written in girly lettering on the bottom of it.

The corner of his lip twitched. “What’s this?” He asked.

“Lunch for you!” She answered rather cutely, putting her hand over his and closing his fingers around the bag. 

Rindou paused, glancing down at the bag and then back up at her. Back down at the bag, and back up at her. He felt himself begin to smile.

I want her to fall in love with me .

“I got your text,” she fiddled with the strings of her bag. “Figured I’d make you one more sandwich to eat. It’s not the best, but–”

“Thanks, angel,” He grinned. “Wanna eat together today?”

It became something of a ritual. Every morning, Rindou would wake up an hour and a half earlier than one normally would for school. He would make the trek to her apartment – yes, trek, he had a bike but he didn’t want to use it. Not because he wanted to save gas or anything, he just wanted to stall. He would wait for her beneath the tree outside of her place – usually only for about a few minutes. You were very punctual.

And every morning while you walked down the sidewalk to him, he would make note of the accessories you wore with your uniform. Yesterday, a headband. Today, who knows. It seemed incredibly mundane, but he enjoyed doing it. 

She would hand him his lunch – usually a grilled cheese sandwich, sometimes something else, but always some sort of sandwich – and he would walk her to school. The little baggie almost always had a note of some sort inside of it. 

She didn’t know he had been collecting them at home, of course, but that wasn’t the point.

He liked to think he did a good job of making you feel safe. The people at school parted like the red sea when you strode through the halls. That was because he usually wasn’t too far behind you, but still.

Eventually, word of mouth spread. She began to be known as “Rindou’s Girl”.

Rindou, shockingly enough, did nothing to stop these rumors. He didn’t care if it made people steer clear of her. No, in fact, much of what he did spurred the rumors onward. It was almost too perfect.

He would meet up with her between classes, walking her here and there whenever it aligned with his own schedule. Even if he had gang duties to attend to, he would make sure to be back in time to see his ‘girl’. 

Rindou would have his arm thrown over her shoulder while the two of them bickered down the hall. Nine out of ten times, she would punch him in the side. He didn’t care. It was well worth the (nearly nonexistent) pain.

Again, it was almost too perfect.

Almost.

“I think you like her,” Ran noted. He stabbed the straw a little deeper into his milkshake, breaking up a few chunks somewhere near the bottom of it. He sucked harshly on the other end of the straw, and when nothing came up, he furrowed his brows.

“I think you might be fuckin’ stupid,” Rindou offered back. He hadn’t bothered to order a milkshake of his own, sticking to a plate of steamed veggies and beef. He had broken his diet for her, and now his stomach pudge was paying the price. “I told you what my intentions were with her.”

“Mmh,” Ran popped one of Rindou’s beef chunks into his mouth. “Your intentions can mean one thing. Don’t matter if what happens is unintentional.”

Rindou took a brief moment to ponder his older brother’s wise words, and very quickly came to the realization that they didn’t make a lick of sense. “Ran, what the fuck does that mean?”

“Means… you can say whatever you want, in theory. Don’t mean that’s what’s actually goin’ on,” Ran picked up his chopsticks and tapped them gently against the side of his ceramic plate. “I could believe I’m, fuckin’... Queen Elizabeth. Don’t mean I actually am. Don’t lie to yourself.”

Rindou leaned back against the leather covering on his booth seat, crossing his arms with a stubborn scowl. “I’m not lyin’ to no one, Ran, It really is not that deep.”

Ran quirked a brow at that, a mischievous glint flashing briefly through his eyes. “Really? So, you’re just casually leaving an hour early every day to walk her to school? Just Buddies? Just casually obsessing over her personal life? Just casually–”

“We are buddies,” Rindou cut his brother short. Technically, that wasn’t a lie. No label, no problem. 

Ran took another sip from his stubborn milkshake and actually succeeded this time. “Sure, yeah,” he teased. “Buddies that just casually make out from time to time, right?”

“Exactly,” Rindou accepted it. At least it was something. “Kinda like the 13 girls you keep on rotation in your phone. Just buddies.”

“Those are fuckbuddies,” Ran rolled his eyes. “Not the same. Unless you’re pipin’ her, in which case–”

Rindou’s frustration seemed to be growing by the second, as seemed to be the trend with Ran. “I’m surprised you’re so invested in my love life – or lack thereof.”

“Woah,” Ran whistled. “ Thereof . That’s a big word for you.”

“You should invest the energy you put towards that into getting a fuckin’ degree,” Rindou snapped back.  

“I’m just saying, for someone who claims to have no emotions attached to this chick, it seems uncharacteristically emotional to go threaten her bullies after school,” The older of the two noted with a pleased hum. “Or how you claim to only wanna use ‘er, but judgin’ by the way you described your little…” Here he paused to wave his hands around, like he was trying to find the words to express his thoughts. “Session… yesterday, I think you’re totally into her.”

The booth the two brothers sat in was small, crammed into a corner in the back of the restaurant. It seemed even smaller now that Rindou was being faced with the daunting possibility of catching feelings for his prey.

“That’s literally not even true,” Rindou tried to defend himself.

Ran raised a brow. “You went through her diary.”

“I was curious,” Rindou replied.

“Why the hell would you be curious if you didn’t give a shit about her?” Ran offered in response, and Rindou hated that he was actually right about something for once. “I think it’s a little more than just a game.”

Rindou knitted his brows together, “I’m just ‘tryna get inside her head.”

“You can barely even get in ‘ya own head half the time, dumbass,” Ran leaned in conspiratorially, his tone dropping to a mock whisper. “You should ask her to the festival if you’re just buddies. I hear the whole town’s goin’.”

Rindou groaned, though his cheeks turned slightly pink. “I’m not goin’ to no fuckin’ fair, bro.”

“Girls love that shit,” Ran pulled his straw out of the shake to point it towards his brother – who tried in vain to ignore the droplet of shake that was flung into his face. “Wanna win her over? Make her feel special.”

Rindou’s chin jutted out defiantly. “I’m gonna win her over. ‘Jus… trying to figure it all out.”

Ran set his milkshake to the side. “Right,” He hummed, sucking the leftover shake off the straw and popping it into the glass. “Well, when you figure things out, extend your girl an invite. Give her a night to remember.”

Rindou sighed, feeling the resistance melt away from his shoulders. “How about I extend my foot up that ass?”

Ran grinned, ruffling his brother’s hair in what would have regularly been considered an affectionate gesture if Rindou weren’t already at his wit’s end with him. 

“Just lookin’ out for you, bro,” he remarked. “Careful playin’ with fire like that. Too close and you can get burnt.”

“Look out for AIDs,” Rindou huffed. “I hear that’s an epidemic these days. You might be in danger.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for you,” Ran’s grin didn’t even falter. “You should go to that fair anyway. ‘M havin’ my girl over that night.”

“Which one?” The blond rolled his eyes.

Ran sat back in his seat, folding his arms over his chest and releasing a content sigh. “Dunno,” he answered. “I’ll find out when she shows up.”

.

Rindou had decided that he was going to do it today. He was going to walk up to her and ask if she would attend the festival with him tonight. Inevitably, of course, she would say yes. She would say yes, and she would thank Rindou for offering to go with her in the first place.

“I can’t,” The girl lowered her eyes with a frown. “I’m sorry, Rindou.”

His smile dropped. He shook his head. “What?” He asked.

He didn’t think he heard that correctly.

“I already have a date to the festival,” She added, like he was supposed to know that.

He raised a brow at her as she shut her locker behind her. “Who?”

She looked him up and down, gaze climbing over his shirt that most definitely violated the dress code. “Um, a kid who sits behind me in history class… why?”

“You never told me about that,” Rindou pursed his lips, suddenly very angry at this faceless man. 

She shrugged. You know, like it was casual. “Never came up in conversation. I felt bad saying no… so I told him okay.”

On the outside, he was the image of composure. On the inside, he was clawing at the fucking floor. He looked down the now empty hallway, and then back at her. 

“Cancel on him,” He said.

“What?” Her eyes widened at the proposition. “No, why would I do that?”

“What’s his name?” Rindou asked her, leaning down to get a better look at her face. 

Rather than answering his question directly, the girl looked away, tugging on the sleeves of her sweater. “He wants to walk me home today… if that’s okay.”

His eyes shot wide open. In his gut, a deep, rancid feeling began to bubble. It felt as if a hole had opened up somewhere deep within, boiling his blood and making him squirm. 

Is this jealousy?

He thought about the kid walking her home instead of him. He didn’t like it. Not one bit. That was his thing. 

Still, attempting to keep his cool because that’s what Rindou Haitani did in the face of uncertainty, he licked his lips and nodded, “That’s fine, ‘jus figured I’d ask you. My date bailed.”

That was a lie, of course. There was never a date. He was only trying to soften the blow.

Her words were like a knife into his ego. He thought about her showing up with this… this kid, holding his hand. Would he try any funny business with her? Not like he cared, of course, he just didn’t like someone toying around with something he had very clearly called dibs on.

His comment must have missed its mark on her, as she looked at him with all the sorrow of a child that had just been caught stealing a cookie from the jar. 

“I’m really sorry, Rindou. I can’t just flake on him, that’s not right,” She sighed. “But the ladies love you. I’m sure you’ll figure something out!”

I don’t want them, briefly flashed through his mind. I want you.

“Yeah,” He replied, sucking his teeth. His eyes had already wandered down the hallway. “I’ll figure it out.”

.

The rush in the hallway had died down a bit after the dismissal bell had rung. There were faint echos of chatter and laughter somewhere down the hall, maybe even in a different wing. Rindou leaned casually against the wall, attempting to blend in with the flow. 

The wounds on his ego were still fresh, the sting of jealousy gnawing at him on the inside. So, when the coast was mostly clear, he seized his chance. He slipped through the classroom door that had been left slightly ajar, steps silent as he made his way to the teacher’s desk.

She was an older woman with grey hair and a colorful sweater on. He recognized her as his brother’s old history teacher… and also from the picture he had snapped of the girl from apartment 12A’s schedule.

That’s all she was. Just some chick from apartment 12A. It hurt a little less when he thought about it that way, though it made it a little difficult to justify his actions.

Her back was turned, but she spun around when Rindou knocked twice on the cool surface of her desk. Her eyes went wide as they locked onto his figure. 

“Boo,” Rindou grinned.

“Haitani, what are you doing here?” The woman’s hand fluttered to her chest. Her breath had already gone ragged. “I already told your brother that there was nothing I could have done about him failing– It was administrative, I swea–”

“I’m not here for him,” Rindou sighed, folding his arms and stepping forward. His eyes scanned the room. “You got a ‘[Y/N] [L/N]’ in here during final period, yeah?”

The teacher’s expression shifted from panic to confusion. Slowly, she nodded, still looking at him like a deer in headlights. 

He tried to play it cool. Like he didn’t already know that after practically memorizing her schedule.

“Where does she sit?” Rindou asked, tone hardly veiling his true intentions.

With a trembling hand, she pointed towards a seat by the window. It was empty, of course, but Rindou still nodded, making a mental location of the seat. He could almost picture her there, the sunlight playing in her hair while she absentmindedly twirled a strand around her finger.

His interest shifted, and he inquired further, “Who’s the kid who sits behind ‘er?”

The teacher seemed a little more at ease with this question, but she was still nervous. Poor thing.

“Behind her?” She trailed off. “That would be that quiet kid… what’s his name… Sato, I think. Black hair, big glasses.”

Her vague description painted a vivid image of Sato in Rindou’s mind, glasses perched on his nose, absorbed in his own little world behind her. He probably fantasized about her, little pervert…

He was the only one who was allowed to do that.

“Thanks,” Rindou nodded his gratitude to her. Before he turned to leave, he hesitated. Slowly, he pivoted back towards the teacher, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “Oh, by the by,” He hummed. “I start this class soon. Figured I should stop by and get to know my teacher-to-be.”

The old woman’s brows shot up in surprise. “Tomorrow?” She thought aloud. “But… you’re not on the roster.”

Rindou’s lips curled up at that. “You should have that fixed,” he replied.

Then he was out the door like nothing had happened.

.

Rindou’s patience had reached a breaking point. Standing behind the tree he knew far too well – the one he stood before every morning at the same time, his heart pounded. He gazed dutifully at the apartment complex where he knew his target would be around this time.

The school was a 20-30 minute walk. He had left the school around 15 minutes later than the other two had so that he might get there in time to catch the kid coming back.

And there he was, standing no higher than 5’3, exchanging goodbyes with the girl from 12A. His girl from 12A. 

Wait. No, that’s not what he meant.

The door closed. Sato smoothed his hands over the front of his uniform, then stepped away. As the boy returned from her doorstep, an unsuspecting prey. He treaded down the concrete path, turned onto the sidewalk where Rindou was hidden, and approached the tree unknowingly.

Rindou stuck his foot out.

Sato tripped over it, falling to the ground rather unceremoniously, undoubtedly scraping the pale, unblemished skin on his arms and palms. Kid probably never had to defend himself a day in his life.

Today would be a great day for him to start.

Sato’s head jerked to the side, visibly disoriented. Before he could comprehend what had happened to him, Rindou landed his second blow, a kick to his gut that left him gasping for air. 

He was glad he had decided to wear his Doc Martens today.

“The hell are you ‘doin with her, huh?” Rindou’s voice was a low growl, edged with danger. His eyes bored into Sato, aflame with an emotion that bordered on madness.

Once Sato recognized his attacker – and, really, Rindou could see the gears turning in his pretty little head – his eyes went wide. 

“Hait… Haitani?” Sato’s voice was shaky, breathless, words barely forming while he tried to catch his breath. Rindou’s boot struck again, silencing any further attempts at speech.

“How do you know her?” He demanded.

Sato’s glasses now lay a short distance away from him, and he fumbled blindly to retrieve them. Rindou sidestepped, placing his heel on Sato’s wrist and pinning it to the pavement below with a brutality that elicited a yelp from the boy.

“You gone deaf or somethin’?” Rindou tilted his head down at him. “How do you know her?”

He knew exactly how Sato knew her. He would never admit that aloud, though.

“Who?” Sato’s voice quivered with confusion, pain etched over his face.

“The girl whose door you just came from, dumbass,” Rindou’s impatience began to seep through his facade, punctuated by another kick to Sato’s side after he took it off of his wrist. “ How do you know her?”

Sato hurled, arm pressed protectively against the area Rindou had struck. 

“She’s… She’s in my class,” He finally admitted, trembling beneath Rindou in a way that made him feel a lot better about chasing him down. This was always his favorite part. “I thought she was cute, so I…”

Rindou stepped on his back, knocking him back down to earth after he had just gotten onto his hands and knees. “So you asked her out?”

Sato nodded hurriedly.

Rindou’s lips curled up in disbelief. “That was my date, asshole,” He seethed, putting a bit of pressure on his back to keep him down.

He was a squirmy one.

“I’m sorryyyy ,” The kid whined, voice cracking with desperation. “I had no idea, I swear! If I knew I never would have–”

Rindou rolled his eyes at Sato’s excuses. He hated whiners. So much, in fact, that he decided to kick him again. Reaching down, he tugged the boy’s arm up harshly, pressing it against the back of his leg.

One wrong move, and his arm would be broken.

“ Ah –” The nerd grunted, teeth gritted. 

“You’re not going to that festival with her,” Rindou warned him. “You know that, right?”

Sato nodded, peering back at Rindou through pained, teary eyes. “I was stupid, I’m sorry,” he pleaded. “I didn’t know she was your girl– girlfriend.”

Rindou pulled on his arm like a warning. “It’s complicated,” he bit out, control slipping a bit while he gave way to the emotions he felt at the prospect of being claimed as someone’s… boyfriend.

Sato’s breath came in ragged bursts. “I’ll never talk to her again, I swear,” He said.

Rindou’s grip on his arm relented, but only slightly. “You’re gonna stay away from her too. Let me hear you got even three feet close to her–”

“We’re in the same… history class,” Sato noted with a grunt.

Rindou stepped harder on his back in response. 

“Switch classes,” he hissed.

“Okay, Okay!” He cried. “I will! I’ll switch, I swear, please don’t hurt me.”

Finally he dropped Sato’s  shaking arm. “Not a word about this to anyone, got it?” he warned him. “I’ll put you on the side of a milk carton.”

Sato’s head bobbed in frantic compliance. 

The younger Haitani stepped back, and the Sato boy immediately scrambled to his feet. Then, without another word, he fled the scene. Ran as fast as his short legs would take him.

In his absence, Rindou sighed, dusting imaginary residue off of his hands and onto his black zip-up hoodie before going the other way.

.

Rindou watched the water turn pink as it ran over his battered knuckles. They were a little sore, but it was nothing he wasn’t used to.

Must have hit his glasses, he thought.

He rubbed some soap into the reddened skin and over his palms, rinsing the grime of his sins away beneath the faucet. He turned the current off, shaking his hands dry. Then, after a brief struggle, reached blindly for his glasses and cologne – popping the cap off and spraying a bit on each of his pulse points.

And on his navel. You know, just for good luck.

The sound of Beyonce’s ‘Naughty Girl’ got louder as he walked towards Ran’s bedroom, carelessly leaving the bathroom door open behind him.

He smoothed his hands over his traditional garb – which he had a particular distaste for, although he knew a traditional festival would require traditional attire. It clashed with his usual style, but he was willing to endure it for the sake of his commitment to a cause. 

It flattered the waist he had been working so hard to thin out, though, so that was nice. 

Flexing his arms downward, Rindou hit a pose in the mirror-desk-thing. 

Ran was sprawled out on his stomach behind Rindou, flipping through a glossy magazine from the comfort of his bed. His hair was done up into a messy bun, a few stragglers cascading down the back of his neck and over his plush Walmart robe. He glanced up at the sight of his younger brother’s choice in attire for the evening.

“Is that my Yukata?” He inquired, sucking his teeth and then turning another page.

“Yeah,” Rindou answered. “You said you weren’t going to the festival. Figured you wouldn’t need it.”

Rindou saw his brother’s brow quirk, though he made no effort to tear his eyes away from the page. “You said you weren’t going either,” Ran remarked.

Rather than glorifying him with a response, Rindou pulled out the chair beneath Ran’s… beauty desk? He didn’t really know what those things were called. Anyway, he made himself comfortable on the seat.

“You’re goin’ all out tonight, huh?” Ran teased, rolling onto his back.

Rindou shook his head. Reaching for Ran’s signature eyeshadow pan – the one that he would never, ever admit to using, but for the sake of this story it should be known that he uses a Covergirl single in the shade Onyx  – he popped the case open. He dabbed the little sponge-brush thing into the pan, applying the deep shade to the outer corners of his eyes. He shaped it into a subtle, smokey point, one that added depth to his gaze.

“Don’t get used to it,” he offered, clicking the single shut and setting it off to the side. 

His attention then turned to his damp hair. He reached for a hair tie he had found on the desk and carefully gathered his blond locks into a fistful. With practiced ease, he tied it up and away from the back of his neck. With the side of his pinky finger, he pulled a few strands out to frame his face. 

The Haitani Slut-Strands were making a comeback.

“She say yes to you when you asked ‘er?” Ran asked somewhere behind him.

Rindou smoothed his hands over the semi-slickback ponytail he’d done. “Nah. Some kid beat me to it.”

He could hear Ran turning the page slowly. “You beat his ass?”

“Maybe,” Rindou grinned.

“I feel, like… so proud,” Ran continued anyway. “Like, this is a proud big brother moment for me. ‘Lil bro, going on his first date with his crush… at 17 years old.”

“Not my first date,” Rindou said, even if it technically was. He wasn’t so sure that the random hookups he’d taken on walks to the park counted. 

“Let me have this,” Ran sighed. “What are you waiting on?”

“Her text,” He answered. He knew it was coming. The festival had started an hour and a half ago. It was only a matter of time before she came crying to him about how this kid she had given a chance decided to stand her up and embarrass her in front of the whole town. Only a matter of time before Rindou would swoop in like Superman and save her night.

On cue, his phone buzzed. He took it out of his pocket, turning it on to read the message he had received.

Just now

Pretty Thing: he stood me up :( can u come get me pls

He glanced at it a second time, his smirk deepening. “Looks like I’m needed,” he said, lifting his phone to show his brother the message.

Ran whistled. “This plan seems awfully well-thought for someone who don’t care about this girl.”

Rindou couldn’t help but reply with a hint of amusement, thumbs already working up a text back, “Worry about the girls in your phone first.”

ME: b there in 15 angel

a/n: Trying not to think about the fact that bc Rindou wants to be a dj he probably listens to like, dubstep or some shit....... also I used the word Yukata here which is Japanese traditional attire to wear to festivals, I looked into it, but like I said im off a Buzzball so if I misused it or was culturally insensitive in any way shape or form it is purely accidental, please let me know and I'll correct! AS always, comment, inbox, let me know how yall feel! I love u bunches &lt;3

I obviously do not own tokyo revengers or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

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