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aiysan2 · 10 days ago

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I've been laughing my ass off for 5 minutes, this is the funniest thing I've ever read

Lights. Camera. Action?

When y/n keeps ending up in every porn trope imaginable, how will the league of villains react? crack w/adult situations, language gn/afab reader Four short stories featuring: Tomura Shigaraki, Suichi Iguchi (Spinner), and Touya Todoroki (Dabi)

Stuck in the Washing Machine (feat. Tomura Shigaraki)

This laundry day has not gone as planned. You were almost done. A basket full of clean, fresh laundry warm out of the dryer. All of your chores finished before noon!

Then you see it: one last sock clinging to the back of the drum.

Naturally, you lean in to pull it out. Should be simple, right? Unfortunately not.

When you back up to pull yourself out, you hit your head in the process and your hair gets caught in one of the screws.

“Fucking piece of shit,” you mumble, cursing the old appliance for existing.

Well, you'll just have to untangle it, right? Easier said than done. You can't quite see where you're caught since it's so close to your scalp. In addition to that, you can't move your arms far enough in this position to do much of anything.

You're stuck.

Then you hear it: footsteps. Deus ex machina; you're saved!

“Hey,” your yells echo back at you, nearly painfully. “Can you help me?”

“What?” Tomura Shigaraki’s sleepy voice drawls from the hallway before you hear his footsteps approaching.

“I'm stuck,” you mumble, slightly ashamed of your situation.

“How the fuck did you manage that,” his gravely voice projects down at you, sounding…hot. You try to block the thought from your mind, there are more pressing matters at hand.

“Wow, you're actually stuck in there,” he says, barely hiding his amusement.

Yeah, he definitely sounds hot today. You're not sure what got you in this mood. Was it something you ate? Didn't eat? Maybe you're ovulating. In any case, suddenly you're desperate for him. If fucking someone's voice was on the table, you'd be first in line. Shit, you need to pull yourself together.

“Can you help?” you say a little more suggestively, arching your back to give him a view of the tiny shorts you threw on this morning.

“Uh, I can try.” You listen as his footsteps grow closer until you can see his sweat pant clad legs in what little peripheral vision you have.

He pulls out his phone for the flashlight, reaching his hands as far into the dryer as he can get. The closeness only spurs you on. With as much motion as you're capable of, you lean into his leg, rubbing your hip against him like a cat.

“Can you hold still?” he groans, voice still sending a thrill through you.

“Need you,” you moan, feeling drunk on your own arousal.

“I know you do. There's no way you're getting this untangled on your own.”

In the corner of your eye, a piece of metal flashes as he pulls it from his pocket. This draws you back to reality, but only barely.

“Wait,” you exclaim, “is that a knife?”

“Well, I'm not about to decay your head. Just hold still, I've almost got it.”

The clatter of the knife and dull sound of your hair being sliced reverberate around you. Suddenly, you're free.

Standing up, you stretch for a moment. When you turn to look at Shigaraki, he hands you a chunk of your hair. Confused, you accept it. Great, first you were stuck now you've had an impromptu haircut. That's nice.

Maybe this morning doesn't have to be all bad though.

“Since you saved me,” you lay it on thick, gripping his bicep, “is there anything I can do to thank you?”

“Yeah,” he yawns then considers for a moment, “since you're offering, can you throw my clothes in the dryer? And try not to get yourself stuck again,” he calls out from the doorway as he leaves.

Pizza Delivery Boy (feat. Spinner)

It was just here yesterday, you think while ripping apart your bedroom to find your wallet. If you would have checked earlier, you could have ordered from somewhere that let you pay with a saved card online or Venmo. Unfortunately, the best pizza place in your neighborhood has a strict cash only policy. By the time you realized you couldn’t find the money, the order was already in the oven and it was too late to cancel.

Your phone dings from under a pile of clothes. It’s one of your friends letting you know you left your wallet in her car last night; she'll drop it off after work late tonight. You switch apps to the delivery page. The status bar on your the screen ticks forward, indicating that the driver, ‘Spinner’, is on the way. Not that those are ever correct, but it gives you some vague idea of how little time you have left.

You pull up the couch cushions and search for change under the bed. The yield of your efforts still leaves you just short. Fuck.

With a screech of tires, followed by the light crunch of a vehicle hitting a curb, you're alerted to his presence. You rush to the door, watching through the peephole. The driver climbs out of his car with one hand carrying your pizza and the other flipping his magenta hair out of his face. The world briefly morphs into an old music video, it's like everything is in slow motion.

He’s cute. Really cute.

Maybe there’s another way you could pay for it.

“Hi, uh Spinner!” You answer the door with a bounce, suddenly feeling shy but you push through it. “So, here’s the thing. My friend has my wallet and I’m coming up short on cash. Surely there’s something I could do to make up for it?”

“Oh,” he says, processing what you’ve just said. He’s never had to deal with this on a delivery before.

“When’s your lunch break?” you ask in the most alluring voice you can manage.

“It’s now,” he says nonchalantly. “Well, it's soon. Right after I finish your delivery.”

“You wanna stick around,” you run your hands over his arm, pulling at the sleeve of his leather jacket. “I’m sure there’s some other way to make up for the rest of the bill.”

“Yeah, I’d be down to split it. You picked my favorite toppings and I need to get lunch anyways,” he says, moving into your living room to make himself at home.

As the two of you are eating, you keep glancing up at his face for signs he might be interested in more. Unfortunately, you got yourself pretty worked up in anticipation of trying to seduce him and you’re finding it nearly impossible to turn that off.

“So,” you muse, “after this. You still have like twenty minutes or so, right?”

“Yeah, why do you ask?”

“I thought I could do something for you,” you lean into his shoulder, “you know, to make up for it?”

“Oh, it’s really not a big deal. I had to get lunch anyways,” he says, “but if you want I could stick around for a bit. I think I know what you're getting at.”

He scoots and closer to the center of the couch near you and takes off his heavy jacket. “You know, I really appreciate it too. It's always so hard to unwind in the middle of the work day.”

Just as you're about to reach for his belt buckle, he leans past you – grabbing an n64 controller from the table.

“You want to be Mario or Luigi?” he asks with a huge smile.

The two of you proceed to play the most awkward session of Super Mario Bros of your life, jumping down pipes when you wish he was sliding into yours. When he leaves, he asks for your number, exclaiming how great it is to have a good "video game bro" to hang out with during the day now.

Walked In On (feat. Dabi)

It’s been a long day and you finally get a moment to yourself. All you want is to unwind, what better way to do that than an orgasm? Jumping in the shower, you set the water temp just right. Your favorite music is playing and you relax into it. You finally find the perfect angle for the shower head when–

BANG!

Suddenly the door crashes open and your roommate Dabi barges in.

You stifle a moan for long enough to yell, “hey, I’m in here!” It’s no use though - he’s already in the room, digging through the medicine cabinet.

“Well, there’s only one bathroom and you’re hogging it. Besides,” he adds, “the only Tylenol in the house is in here.” That’s not true, you think to yourself, but it doesn’t matter: he ruined it.

Or, maybe he didn’t.

Through the clear plastic shower curtain, you can make out his frame. Maybe you’re just turned on, but he’s pretty hot. And you’ve only been in here for five minutes, at most, he had to have timed it on purpose. It's almost like he wants to be in here with you.

“Heyyy, Dabi,” you breathe, hoping he hears the longing in your voice and gets the hint it’s okay to join you from that alone.

“Yeah?” he asks, shaking some pills out of a bottle before drinking straight out of the faucet.

“Can you give me some help in here?”

“What, did you get something caught in the drain or something? Because last time that was fucking disgu–”

“No, nothing like that,” you reply quickly, hoping to derail that thought before it gets too far. How is he not getting it, he’s the one who walked in here? “I mean, you came in at a very specific time.”

“Oh, that. If you needed me to get you tampons, you could have just said so. Not like I don't have a mom and sister. Yeah, I'll head to the store. We're out of paper towels so I need to go anyway.”

Good to know, but that's still not what you meant.

“No,” you say exasperated, “that's not the help I'm asking for. Do you want to get in the shower with me?”

You aren't sure how you could make it more obvious than that, surely he has to understand now.

He yanks the shower curtain back, startling you. But, now that he's here… his arms glisten with the drops of water splashing onto him from the shower. You notice the perfect line of his jaw, leaning in to kiss him.

Unfortunately for you, Dabi's attention is still elsewhere as he searches the ceiling. He moves, not noticing your advances.

“Is there a bug or something? That's what you needed help with in here, right?”

“There’s not a bug, I just thought maybe you’d want to take a shower with me.”

“Oh, yeah. That water bill was insane last month,” Dabi says, his face relaxing now that he thinks he understands. “I showered this morning though.”

He closes the curtain on you, turning to head out the door. “Plus,” he adds, “I wouldn’t want it to be weird for you to have to see my dick or anything.”

Weird? That's exactly what you want. You finish your shower quickly and spend the rest of the evening hiding in your bedroom.

Casting Couch (feat. all three)

After months without so much as being called back, you jumped at the first job interview you landed. It’s at a seedy bar on the side of town you don’t usually visit, but that’s not a deal breaker.

When you arrive, a polite man with some sort of smoke quirk greets you at the bar before taking you to a back room.

“Right this way,” he says, holding the door to the hallway. “They’re all back here waiting for you.”

“They? How many people are interviewing me?”

“Just the three of them, they like to work together on matters such as this.” He pushes open another door to a small room and gestures for you to sit on the couch across from the three men. They all perk up as soon as they see you and begin asking questions.

“So how much experience do you have?” asks the man with shaggy blue hair sitting across from you.

“How flexible are you in tough situations?” adds the one with the gecko quirk.

Then the darker haired man chimes in with, “how available can you make yourself?”

It’s all so familiar.

The three attractive men across from you. The leather couch. All of the suggestive questions they’ve been asking. You’ve heard of interviews like this. With how long it’s taken you to find work, you’ll happily play along. Looking at the three of them, you’re even excited for it.

“Okay, let’s get this over with,” you say, taking off your sweater.

“Right now?” asks the blue haired one, looking more confused than you expected.

“Yeah, you want to see what I can do, right?” you reply provocatively.

“Yeah, but,” adds the one with nose piercings, “there’s not enough room in here.” The others nod in agreement.

At that statement, you wonder what kind of crazy shit you’ve gotten yourself into. Curiosity gets the best of you though and you push forward. Whatever it is, you still need the job.

“Then aren’t you going to take me somewhere else?”

“Yeah, you might want to put your sweater on though. It’s pretty cold out,” the man with the fuschia hair replies. Reluctantly, you throw your sweater back on, knowing you’ll just be peeling it off again in a little while.

“Well, lead the way!” you say excited at the prospect of a potential job and the opportunity to sleep with three of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen in your life.

The four of you exit through the bar, the man at the counter waves knowingly. You exit, walking a few blocks down the sidewalk and turning to cut through a park. You must be going to one of their apartments. Abruptly, they stop in the middle of the field and turn to you.

“Now’s your time to shine,” the darker haired man nudges you.

“R-right here?” you ask.

“Yeah, this looks like a good place,” states the one with scars on his lip and eye. Again, the others nod in agreement.

“But there are people...” you whisper, glancing at the busy playground nearby.

“Oh, these people aren’t bothered by anything,” starts the scaled man. “No one in this neighborhood is. Just keep it over here and they’ll mind their own business. Dabi comes down here and does this by himself all the time,” he adds, pointing at the man next to him. Dabi looks pretty proud of himself.

“Huh,” you consider, “well, if you say it’s okay. Maybe we can go behind the gazebo or something.”

“You shy or something?” asks the man who you now know as Dabi.

“Yeah, something like that. I’ve just never done this before. Not like this, at least."

"Weird, but okay," says the one with blue hair.

The four of you walk behind the gazebo where you take your shirt off and they promptly ask if you are having heat flashes and need medical attention.

Needless to say, you did not get that job.

bnha masterlist

taglist: @shigarakislaughter @cryptidfuckerofficial @minniessskii @vaval3ntin @ykyouluvme

@dummi666 @lotus-flower420 @nonominchan @softnfuzzy @mysticalhills

@reireitaka @crwavee @baby-pink-flowers @drlucichen @frieren-imposter

@lou-the-naga-queen @multifandomidk @kitkat13001 @kennys-partner @amira-44820

@its-evee16 @love-for-yoosung-kim

#♡harley's to read #crack fic #tomura shigaraki #spinner #dabi todoroki

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aiysan2 · 19 days ago

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ab riding with higuruma

My first time posting my work. This is a quick drabble I typed up a year ago randomly. This isn’t proofread at all. Enjoy! 😊

(posted on the wrong blog earlier. 🤦🏻‍♀️)

“You’re going to be late Hiromi.” You coo at the brunette that’s sucking on your collarbone. He dips his face into your neck and inhales your scent. “Trying to kick me out of our bed beloved?” He asks as he grabs your hand and brings it up to his mouth. He kisses the tips of your fingers and lightly nips your thumb. You let out a small laugh and shake your head, “No but don’t you have an 8am bench call with the judge for your Kyoto client?”

He licks your thumb and fixes his eyes on yours. They’re full of adoration and arousal. He lets out a sigh, “I swear you should quit your job and just let me hire you as my personal assistant.” You giggle. “Oh but wouldn’t people frown cause I’m fucking my boss?” You let your index finger trace a line down his chest and circle his nipple. “I would just tell them that you’re making sure my mental is in order.” He kisses your forehead, “Or I could say you’re earning your promotion.”

You laugh and push his face away. “Oh and we both know I would earn that and a parking space.” He laughs and wraps his arms around your waist. You squeal as he maneuvers you on top of him. “A parking space too?” He questions as he smiles looking up at you. His hands work their way up and cup your breasts, his thumbs flick your hard peaks. You nod and hum, “I absolutely would get a parking space.”

“And just how would you go about getting that?” He teases as he shifts slightly under you. He can feel the heat radiated off your core on his abs. You rake your fingernails down his chest and stomach and then back up again. “I have my ways.” You tease as you grind down on the defined abs below. He stifles a groan. “Maybe I should show you?” He nods as his Adam’s Apple bobs up and down. You grind up and down again and he grips your fleshy thighs. “You’re such a fucking tease.” He breathes out.

You laugh and grind more. Your slick leaking out and coating his abdomen. “Oh but you like it Mr. Lawyerman.” Your hips buck up and down causing more friction to your clit. He groans from the wetness that’s dripping onto him and down his sides onto the bed. You’re itching for another round but you know he can’t be late to work but the way he’s starting to writhe under you is tempting. “Maybe—“ the alarm goes off again. He reaches over and snoozes it and just as he’s about to turn his attention back to you, his cell phone rings.

“Don’t move from there.” He commands and you nod your head. Hiromi answers the call. It’s his paralegal assistant calling to tell him that the judge has changed some criteria so they need to rush to the office right now before heading to the courthouse. You bite your bottom lip, you shouldn’t distract him from the call, but you two were in the middle of an important conversation as well. You start grinding on him again. He places his free hand on one of your hips in an attempt to stop you.

You give him a smile and blow a kiss as you grind harder. He slaps your ass and you throw your head back. A moan escapes your lips and he hurries to end the call. He throws the phone to the side and his other hand grips your other hip. “Why do you always do things like— ah — that?” Hiromi bucks his hips up, desperate to feel something against his growing erection. “Aw, don’t even cry. You— oh shit— love when I pull stunts like this.” Your wet folds are rubbing back and forth on his abs and you can feel an orgasm creeping up fast.

“Almost there 'Romi.” You whine out. “Let it out baby. I’m right here.” Your brows knit together as you look down at him and your orgasm fires off through your body. Legs tingling and toes curling as you release all your warm nectar onto his 6 pack. “Good girl.” He groans out. You lean down and kiss him. “You better get to the office.” You whisper into the kiss. He chuckles, “I’ll have to shower quickly first.” He says as you slide off him and he stands up.

You grab his arm. “Don’t shower.” He looks back at you with a quizzical face. “Excuse me, beloved?” You pull him to you. “I said, don’t shower. Go like this.” A devious smile splayed across your face. Hiromi laughs and shakes his head, “I swear, you’re going to be the death of me.” He indulges your request and he’d be lying if he wasn’t turned on by the fact that while he’s working, your most recent declaration of love is signed on his lower abdomen. He gets dressed and kisses you goodbye.

Hiromi arrives at his office. His secretary greets him and follows him to his office. She’s filling him in on the STAT messages left for him. She hands him his coffee and just before she exits his office she turns to him, “Mr. Higuruma, are you wearing a new cologne?” Hiromi almost spits his coffee out, “Uh um, yes. A last minute one I decided to put on.” He smiles. “It’s nice. I really like it. You should wear it more often!” She beams before exiting. Hiromi laughs and shakes his head, “Yeah, I may just start wearing it daily.”

a/n: hope you enjoyed!

#chao writes #chao’s works #chao’s drabbles #jujutus kaisen #jjk #jjk smut #higuruma hiromi #hiromi higuruma #higuruma x reader #reader x higuruma #higuruma x you #higuruma x chubby y/n #higuruma x chubby reader #higuruma smut #jjk higuruma

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aiysan2 · 20 days ago

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Lord Choso Kamo.

Synopsis: bridgerton au- 22 yrs old nd have yet to marry, only to be set up in an arranged marriage to Choso ^-^

Pairing: Choso x Fem!Reader Content: no use of y/n nor readers appearance, Choso is 26, enemies (on one side) to lovers, reader is sharp tongued and stubborn, plotttttt booooo, just a niche fic I couldnt stop thinking about ^-^, catered for a very specific audience, if you get it- YOU GET IT.

Presented to society at seven and ten. One of the many young potential brides.

You had asked your mother to allow you to wait a few years- focus on your studies instead of marrying you off. As lacking in presence as your father was, even he said, ‘Absolutely not.’

The first year had a handful of potential husbands. But none of them could nack your witty remarks towards them. Causing your second year to have an even less amount of suitors.

The second year, you were already deemed a spinster by your parents. Attending balls and only sitting on the sidelines in the very same gowns you've worn before- only ever seeing it as a meaningless affair. Only present to watch the other young ladies receive marriage offers before you did.

By the time you were two and twenty, your mother and father saw you and saw a sort of disappointment. An only child- raised and trained for marriage- and refusing to let go of the silly notion of going through life unmarried.

They blamed you- but in reality it was a mix of their inability to keep up with the fashions of the seasons. Having to re-wear dresses didn’t help you in the situation either. That and the lack of an eye-catching dowry. Seemed as though no man wanted to marry a woman with a mere four figure dowry, no matter how beautiful.

One afternoon, as you read a book in the drawing room, you sat on the couch lazily, wearing a day dress that you deemed obsolete—dressing up for no one but the servants and your mother.

And your mama spouting- “I do not know why you insist on filling your mind with nonsense.” Pacing back and forth a few feet from you.

Causing you to lower your book and look at her with pursed lips. “It is not nonsense, mama,” you snipped, lining up your eyes with the words again. “It is Shakespeare.” you muttered, a small smile curling on your lips at the look on your mother’s face.

She was about to start speaking again- only your father walked into the room with an unaccustomed smile on his lips. Almost exasperated, “And what is it you have to smile about, my lord?” your mother scoffed, sitting on the couch across from you with a sigh.

“I have found a proper suitor for your daughter,” he said, causing your shoulders to tense and your book to lower in disbelief.

“I am your daughter as well- father.” you scoffed. Lightly pinching the bridge of your nose and sitting up.

The gleam that shone on your mother’s eyes was one you hoped you’d never see. “Who?” she asked, breathless and eager to see who would finally take you from their hands.

Your father flashed his eyes to you, almost worried for the words that dared spill from his lips- “The lord Kamo.”

You closed your eyes with a soft sigh. You had been appropriately raised to not talk back to your father, but the vein that pulsed in your mind when he said that name almost made you snap at him.

Lord Choso Kamo.

To others, just another lord without a bright and shiny title. Firstborn son and heir of the Kamo name, his mother gave birth to 8 more boys- all one year apart. And on the eighth, his mother died.

His father remarried within the year, speculated with a woman he had an affair with when his mother was still alive. Giving Choso one last little brother.

And to you, three years your senior. Choso was a playful child growing up. Chasing you around- stepping on your shoes and stealing your ribbons at the various balls you would attend with your mother.

But somewhere around the time his father died, he became more serious. Now head of the Kamo family at a mere five and ten, he grew taller and more serious-faced. And no longer picked fun at you, nor chased you around. If anything, he ignored you.

Even as a child, you had developed a special kind of disdain towards him. Seeing him as an ill-raised boy, blamed for his misdeeds by your mother. “But mama- he is the one who chases me!” you would defend when she would pull you away by the arm.

And in your teen years- you would avoid him like a plague. Holding your head high as your eyes looked over at him- his eyebrows, thick and furrowed with severe eyes scanning the ballroom.

You disliked Choso not only for his actions as a child but also because he had a dismissive aura when it came to these balls—and when it came to you now, apparently. Far too mature and busy to even hold a conversation with you now.

Only once when you were four and ten did you approach him. Standing much taller than you at seven and ten, hands behind his back with a stern look in his eye.

Choso stood near the far wall of the ballroom, his eyes scanning the lively room for his little brothers. To make sure they did not stain his legacy even further than his father had.

“I think you owe me a dance, my lord,” you spoke, standing beside him but not bothering to look over at him, dressed in a dark plum suit, a color he had taken a liking to at his coming of age.

His face churned in confusion, “Owe you a dance? Whatever for.” he spoke- improper and uncaring of this supposed debt you imposed onto him.

“For stealing my ribbons and stepping on my shoes.” tilting your head slightly, so sure you were correct.

He only scoffed, walking away from you and collecting his rowling brother.

Choso’s coldness against you was upsetting. Not because you wanted his friendship but because of how improper and indifferent he was when it came to you. Not even bidding a goodbye before walking off.

In the third year you were on the market, you stood beside him once more—you, freshly twenty, and he, three and twenty. Thinking if no other man would have you, who was the Lord to deny you?

It was not as though he was the worst man of the bunch. A decent name, a decent fortune- and a better-looking face than most suitors. His only flaw was how standoffish he could be and how improper he was with you.

Yet still. You gave the man one last chance.

“You still owe me a dance, my Lord,” you spoke, watching the people dance at the center of the room. Choso looked over to you, quickly scanning the light pink gown you wore that evening, surely to attract a suitor.

Your gaze caught the bags below his eyes, a side effect of the late nights spent in his study with only candlelight illuminating the mess of books his late father left him. And his long hair tied back, giving you an unobstructed view of his strong jaw.

“Should you not be looking for a husband?” he spewed, looking back at the dancing crowd and lightly widening his eyes. Unable to see the youngest sibling he was watching.

You let out an unamused laugh, “That is what I am doing, is it not?” looking over at him with a pleased expression.

“No, you are talking to me-” he murmured. Walking off and trying to find the pink-haired sibling with a penchant for wandering off.

After that, you swore never to speak to him again. There was a spark of hatred in your heart when you saw his stupid, serious face at the balls. And when his eyes caught on yours, you would look away, uncaring if people saw. If anything, you wanted people to see your dislike for that brinking-on beastly man.

So when your father said that he- Lord Choso Kamo was to be your husband, you almost hemorrhaged on the spot.

You did not speak to your father for three days and two nights. At the dinner table, you stayed silent. Picking at your food and avoidant of any conversation. And your mother held more than enough excitement for you both. Planning the flowers, the gown- all before the Lord even proposed.

And when your father grew tired of your silence- he shouted at you to speak.

You bowed your head, tears in your eyes—“Please,” you said in a tone of voice you had not used since you were a girl. Peering your eyes up at him, full of salt water and a weary lip. You said, “Please, do not make me marry that man, father.”

Though your papa was generally uncaring when it came to what you felt. The way you looked at him- he saw a glimmer of his little girl in your eyes. The same little girl that would cling to his leg, scared of the strangers he would present her to.

Your father took your hands in his- and you were so sure he would call it off.

“I will allow you a two-week courting period.” He whispered, watching the tears spill from your eyes. “You must marry him,” he spoke your name softly.

It wasn’t until the following day you heard your father speaking to your mother- the stoic man practically in shambles at the thought of using his only daughter as a form of paying his debts.

Before the late Lord Kamo passed, your father owed him a substantial amount of money. A debt your father was still unsure how he would pay. And the news of Choso’s father's death washed over your papa as a wave of relief.

So when a six and twenty-year-old Lord Kamo wrote to your father- something along the lines of; ‘I have in my late father’s books that you owed him an undisclosed sum of money. I would like to discuss this face to face-’

Your father thought up a million things—selling off the silverware, the dresses, and letting go of the staff—but it didn’t amount to half as much as he owed.

So when your father met up with the young Lord Kamo at a gentleman's club, he was far too inebriated. Drinking to fill the uncomfortability he felt with the severity Choso imbued in his words.

“It is my understanding you have yet to marry?” your father spoke- glass half empty in his hand as he looked at the brown-haired man before him.

Choso furrowed his eyebrows, looking at the drunk man and squinting. “I have yet to.”

“Then the matter is settled. You may have—*hic* My daughter,” he said, thralling his arm around Choso’s shoulder with a happy smile. “She is well-read. And you have been friends since youth, have you not?”

Choso parted his lips to speak—“Phenomenal!” your father said, “We will discuss the technicalities later,” ending the conversation and continuing to another topic.

In Choso’s mind, he knew the impending task of finding a wife had run at him at full speed. And rather than slotting through the many carefully primped young ladies, Choso found peace in knowing if he should have to marry, let it at least be you who he does.

The least objectionable option. Finding it revolting how the many mamas would peddle their overly young daughters to grown men. Be it you- three years his junior and knowing you far better than he would know any of them.

And when your mother advised you that the Lord Kamo had asked to see you- you felt a pool of nerves and unease form in your tummy. Knowing that the two-week period your father had granted you, would begin the minute, he would come see you.

Your mother mulled over what you were to wear when he would visit. Trying to find the best option- an option that would make your beauty distracting enough to ignore your sharp tongue.

“Mama, I’ve already told you- he is not interested in marriage” you insisted- your mother ordering you to hold a dress against your body.

“Hush up.” she insisted, causing you to sigh.

Tossing a light pink chiffon gown onto your bed- “I have known him since I was a child- mama, he knows what I am like.” sitting onto your bed with a scoff, “A frilly gown I’ve worn before won’t change his opinion on me.”

Your mother shouted your name- “Your father has said that he already agreed- mouthy and far too mature as you are. Lord Kamo has agreed to marry you.” she insisted. Making your mind reel at the possibility that he only agreed to vex you, knowing him.

As your ladies maid fixed your hair- looking into the mirror and thinking of your foiled plans. Plans that had been entirely derailed simply because the Lord said ‘yes’ to marrying you.

And as you sat in the drawing room- back slouched and a bored look on your face. Your mother did not hesitate to slap your back when the footman walked in “The Lord Kamo, to see you- my lady.” he directed at you.

Straightening your back- fixing your face as you watched the man stand at the doorway. Flowers in hand and with his hair pushed behind his ears. Unfurrowed eyebrows and nervous eyes looking at you.

You rose to your feet, “My lord.” you exasperated, lowering in a half-assed curtsey as he slightly bowed.

“My lady.” he spoke- almost unsure and far too formal for the relationship you had with him.

You clenched your jaw looking at him- your mother leaning to your ear, “Be kind, and smile.” she instructed through clenched teeth. Sitting at a tea table a few paces from the couch you were sitting on.

Choso took a step towards you, holding out the bouquet. “These are for you,” he mumbled- yet another thing you disliked about him. He spoke unclear words far too often.

You plastered a false smile on your lips, reaching for them- “Thank you. My lord.” dropping the smile and holding them out for your ladies’ maid to take them. Thinking of a snide comment, only laughing softly to yourself at- ‘make sure to leave them in the sun till next week.’ you said in your mind.

“Did I say something funny?” he asked- watching you sit onto the couch and following you.

You eased your expression. “No, unfortunately you didn’t.” you spit. Hearing a slight cough come from your mother, reminding you to be kind.

Choso parted his lips to speak- “May I ask you why you agreed to marry me?” you interrupted- a hushed tone so your mother would not scold you. Eyebrows stern and determined to know his reasonings.

The Lord squinted his eyes slightly with a furrowed brow. “I have yet to ask for your hand?” he queried- as though you had the answers that you, yourself, were looking for.

“My father says you agreed to marry me in two weeks.” deadpan face looking at his confused one.

The corner of the Lord’s lip curled, “Your father was drunk when he struck that deal.”

You rolled your eyes and looked off to the side. “So you do not wish to marry me.” you stated rather than asked. So eager to hear the words- ‘I do not want to marry you.’

“I did not say that.”

You almost groaned in frustration at his words. Only your twitchy eye went unnoticed by the man sitting before you. “Then?” you pressed, pursed lips and squinty eyes awaiting his declaration- or an excuse.

“I am reaching the age to take a bride.” he started, bordering on a mumble that only frustrated you even more.

“And why not take on a well-behaved child bride-”

Choso’s expression churned in a flash of disgust. “I did not choose you,” he spoke your name in a whisper. Improper as ever- not even using your family name with a simple ‘miss’ before it.

You blinked harshly at your name callously spoken as though you were already wed.

“Your father offered-”

“And you accepted.”

“Because I have known you since I was a boy.” he defended, “I found marrying you to be simpler than carding through the many eligible young-” you sighed at his droning on. Giving you every excuse besides the one you wanted to hear.

“You also said 'yes' to this union, did you not?” he asked. You looked off to the side, scoffing at his assumption.

Intertwining your fingers together and pursing your lips, “This union is everyone’s choice but mine.” you muttered. Looking down to your hands with a frustrated look on your face.

Choso called your name again- this time in worry. Making the vein in your temple pulse from his improper tendencies. “If you do not want to marry- I will not force you to.”

“You do not know a thing.” you spouted, causing your mother to look up from the embroidery cloth to see why you were seething in your words. And Choso only smiled at your mother, assuring her it was okay.

Clearing your throat- standing from the couch and urging him to do the same. “I think it’s time for you to take your leave, my lord.” You spoke- hearing your mother stand.

“Can’t you stay for tea?” she asked- only for Choso to look at you. Mouthing a soft ‘No,’ instructing him to assure your mother that was not necessary.

The next time Choso saw you was at a ball. You stood near a wall, a pondering look on your face, an unsipped glass of lemonade in hand, and an empty dance card on your wrist.

Looking off as though you were physically here- but your mind was elsewhere.

The Lord came up to you for the first time since he was seven. Calling your name in a mutter and pulling you from your thoughts.

“Yes, my lord?” you spoke- refusing to turn and look at him.

He inhaled sharply, “Have you thought more on-”

“It is all I think about these days.”

Choso tried thinking back on the lessons he was taught as a boy- how to approach a lady and how to ask for a dance.

He parted his lips to speak- “What is it you want, my lord?” you asked, interrupting his attempts to communicate with your tone bordered on frustration.

“I owe you a dance, do I not,” speaking your name with the same thoughtlessness as he always held. You sighed, placing your glass on the table beside you.

Looking over at him with a peaked brow, “Why is it now you want to dance? Not once have you ever shown interest before.”

He scoffed softly, “I aim to court you- dancing is part of it, is it not?”

You let out an unamused laugh, “If dancing meant courting- you declined that proposition long ago, my lord.” taking a sarcastic tone, holding your head high as he furrowed his eyebrows.

Unknowing what you were talking about, Choso squinted his eyes. “Why do you speak to me in that tone?” he looked over at you, trying to recall if he had insulted you or even done something to warrant your curt behavior.

You sighed harshly, bored of this conversation- and irritated that Choso had the guts to ask that. “My mother is summoning me-” Trying to find an escape from this conversation; you chose to lie.

Turning to face him, pursed lips and your jaw slightly clenched, “Good evening, my lord.” you spat, his eyes widening and scoffing.

As you turned to walk away, he called your name- loud enough for more than enough people to turn their heads to the source. Seeing you still in Choso's presence, his face troubled as he looked at the back of your head.

The control you had in not turning around and snapping at the man, was control you weren’t sure you held. You only breathed in a small breath and continued your steps, hearing the Lord step behind you as you walked out of the ballroom.

Nodding your head 'no' as you stepped onto the terrace- breathing in the crisp evening air and clenching your jaw. Your name was spoken again, in the same uncaring tone he always held when he referred to you.

“If I have done something to offend you-” You turned around swiftly, angered by the face before you and your eye threatening to twitch.

“If? If you have done something?” you scoffed, finding it unbelievable that he didn’t even know what he did wrong. Choso turned his head, awaiting your explanation as your gloved hands balled into fists at your side.

Choso parted his lips to speak, your name falling from his lips carelessly, making you even more upset. “Please, tell me if I have done something wrong.” The urgency in his tone fell on deaf ears.

“I do not wish to speak of this any longer-” you muttered, “My Lord.” you gritted, a breath leaving his lips at the name.

“Why do you insist on calling me that?” he lightly grimaced, cringing every time you’ve ever referred to him as that.

The control you held slipping from the satin covering your fingers. “Because it is polite—something you do not harbor,” you spat, shivering at the crisp breeze brushing against your arms.

Choso furrowed his eyebrows- even more confused than before at your proclamation. You scoffed- “Do not pretend you are unaware of what I speak of.” your chest puffing and slightly spilling from the top of your gown.

You abandoned the topic, knowing he would only look at you with the same stupid expression in wait for you to further elaborate.

Turning away from Choso and placing your hands on the balcony’s edge, sighing softly before a smile crept onto your lips.

“We have yet to marry, and we are arguing already,” you whispered, looking out into the gardens with a pummeling headache.

Choso sighed, his face troubled. “I’ve already told you—if this marriage is not of your will, I shall decline your father.”

You breathed a sharp exhale from your nose at his claim, knowing it was not up to you nor him. It was a duty your own father entrusted to you.

“It is of my will.” you muttered, hearing his footsteps creep beside you. Looking out to the same view as you.

“Then why is it you hold such disdain for me?” he whispered, looking to the side of your face in worry.

Dropping the veil of anger to answer his question in earnest. “Do you remember when we were children? And you would chase me around the Easter gardens?” you asked, taking a softer tone and looking to the very same gardens below you.

“Or when you would step on my freshly polished shoes- or steal the ribbons of my hair?” Looking back to him with a soft expression- watching his face churn to a pensive one.

A small smile formed on your lips, “I was able to forgive all of that- but when I was ten and four, you declined my offer for a dance.” your mouth in taught purse, watching his lips part to defend himself.

“And when I was twenty, I offered again.” the corner of your lip curling in disbelief, “And you declined- again.”

“This is all because I refused to dance with you?” Choso asked in a half laugh.

You huffed a smile, “No, not because you declined my offers for dancing, my lord.” clenching your teeth and the seething below your skin burning in your cheeks. “Because after all of that- you somehow managed to foil my plans for the future.”

Sighing in a straggled breath, “After all of that- you agreed to marry me. And go on as though we have been friends since childhood.” You nodded in disappointment.

“But we have been-” Choso stated in almost a question.

“You bullied me in childhood. We are not friends.” You spat in a whisper, turning and taking a step away. Only for his hand to grasp onto your clothed forearm, holding you back with an amused expression.

“Bullied?” he asked in a surprised tone. “If anyone was a bully- it was you,” speaking your name and looking at your angered expression.

Choso loosened his grip on your arm, “Do you not recall? When you would pull my ears or push me?” he smiled, remembering the memories he held fondly.

“Or when I would call you 'my lady'- and you would snap at me? Tell me that was not your name- and that you were no lady?” he scoffed with an earnest smile. You furrowed your eyebrows, barely able to remember the memory he was referring to.

“If I am so horrible- why did you agree to marry me?” you whispered, the smile on his face only growing in the slightest.

His cheeks slightly flushed and daring to inch closer to you. “I do not find you horrible,” the tone he took when saying your name made your own cheeks threaten to warm. “I never have.” he smiled.

Watching your tight expression soften, you parted your lips slightly. Darting your eyes back to the ballroom and seeing a pair of debutants whispering whilst looking through the doors.

You cleared your throat, taking a step back and exhaling a shaky breath. Choso furrowed his eyebrows and looked over to where you had looked, “A dance, my lady?” he offered his hand out to you.

You took it with a sigh, what you interpreted as anger filling your cheeks. Allowing him to guide you back to the ballroom.

A hand on your waist and other holding yours, taking precise steps as your eyes avoided his. Thinking of a way to break the tension without stuttering. “If you insist on marrying me- I ask we speak of agreements beforehand,” you expressed, avoiding the gaze Choso held on you.

His hand guiding you into a waltz, “Agreements?” he murmured, snapping your eyes back to him and nodding.

“Yes, agreements. Discuss what shall happen if we marry.” you reiterated, keeping a stern brow and ignoring the wisp of a smug expression on his face.

Choso lightly smiled, “Very well.” he murmured again, making you nod your head no with heat rising in your cheeks.

“Bring freesias for my mother- and stop mumbling.” you seethed, watching his smile deepening as he heard your demands.

(a.n) sooo niche and I overindulged I know, but I don't CARE.

#cant wait for part 2 #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #choso jujutsu kaisen #choso jjk #choso kamo

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aiysan2 · 21 days ago

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“why do you ship them? I thought the ship wasn’t canon?” bro we’re talking about fictional characters, who don’t actually exist in real life, from a media that focuses solely on fictional events that are not real either. so what if these two made-up characters didn’t kiss in their source material? they have lots of nasty gay sex on archive of our own and thousands of novel length slow burn enemies to lovers fics written about them. the fanon content at this point far exceeds the whole canonical franchise. the problem isn’t “it’s not canon” the problem is that you don’t allow yourself to let go of canon and enjoy the wonder of fan contents that are just as good / valid

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aiysan2 · 26 days ago

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"What do they say about older guys?"

Age-gap, size kink, prone bone, rough sex, p in v, unprotected, breeding kink, slight corruption kink, dirty talk, they do it in Shoto's bedroom

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Shoto invites his best friend for a family dinner, not knowing she's a huge Endevour slut who'd do anything to prove she's his biggest fan.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first time you met Endevour was life changing.

The man your best friend had vented to you about and defended ( at times ) was one of your biggest celebrity crushes and it broke your heart when 19 year old Shoto opened up to you, a civilian who happened to have amazing conversational skills, about how his now 'redeemed' father made him feel guilt for all the years he despised him.

You had comforted him then, and you comforted him now that you saw him tremble across from his dad during family dinner.

You, however, couldn't stop thinking about how much of a hulking figure the number 1 hero was. He was so large compared to you, your hand swimming in his palm when he shook your hand upon entry. His tatami chair looked miniscule underneath him, despite the fact he tried to make himself smaller so he wouldn't intimidate you, his guest.

You had thought Shoto was big, being over 6 feet, but his father put him to shame. He made you feel so small. He could easily pin you to a mattress, tossing you into any position he desires.

Endevour couldn't ignore the curious gaze of who he thought was his son's girlfriend. The way Shoto spoke about you made it seem like you had some sort of relationship exceeding friends. However, your lingering eyes that basically objectified him made it obvious that wasn't the case.

He wouldn't lie and say he wasn't intrigued, quite the opposite, the tint on your cheeks and the way he could tell you were holding yourself back as you bit your lip, ignoring the steaming food Fuyumi had cooked specifically for you, just so you could watch ever action he made fascinated him.

He hadn't slept with anyone since his ex-wife, and even then, it was nothing past vanilla. It seemed taboo to even imagine stuffing his son's smaller friend with his fat cock, though he was chubbing up in his pants like a school boy imagining it.

He couldn't get the thought of taking advantage of your obvious display of naivety and having you choke on his cock out of his head. It was like he was starved, you were freshly legal, ot was wrong on so many levels.

This was dangerous. You were dangerous.

He excused himself from the table, watching your face fall in disappointment. Though you finally looked at your cold food and began eating it, it was your favourite after all.

"Are you alright?" Shoto asked, noticing your lingering glare on his father. Poor thing thought you were uncomfortable being in the presence of an abuser, he had no idea the filthy thoughts filling your mind as the man 3 times your age left.

" I'm fine," you looked at your food once again, guilt consuming you. You had completely forgotten you were with Shoto, staring shamelessly at his father like some whore.

" I'm gonna explore your place," you say as an excuse, something that Shoto would be accustomed to and definitely wouldn't bother himself questioning your antics.

You got up, walking out of the dining room in the hope of finding the hulking flame hero.

You found yourself opening every door of the upstairs hoping with all your heart you'd see him, even if you had no idea what you'd do once you'd see him.

It was the last door in the corridor, and your hopes were high, you were praying that behind this door was the wet dream of a man you'd subconsciously wanted since you were a teen.

There he sat, on his son's futon no less, fiddling with things as he tried to figure the boy out. His eyes flicked to yours, the orchestrator of his recent torment, the cute little thing his son brought home that he couldn't help thinking of fucking.

" Yes?" He asked, when you stood completely still, your eyes still dancing around his figure in awe as if the only thing you could think of in that ditzy little head of yours was his cock.

You chewed your lip, realising you had to say something you couldn't make a fool of yourself in front of your favourite pro.

" I-i really like watching you fight," you mumble, hands falling from around your stomach to grip the sides of your skirt. He found your nervous display amusing, especially with how predatory your gaze was from the get-go.

" Really?"

" of course, I watch you on the news and online all the time, I'm so happy I was able to meet you in person...." you kept yammering on. The sound of your voice not ceasing even when Enji stood up from the floor a small smile on his face from all the praise, you didn't stop, just lowering your voice to a whisper when his large arm held the top of the door frame you stood under.

He wasn't usually so forward, in fact he wasn't forward at all, perhaps it was hanging around the retired wing herk that made him able to conjure up the words, but he didn't regret them no matter how out of character it was.

" You wanna prove how much of a fan you are?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Fuck~" He groaned. It was deep and guttural, covering up the sound of your shrill whimpers as he split you in two.

He was so heavy above you, even if only half his weight pressed against your back, you felt your eyes rolling back at the feeling.

His furry chest rubbed against your back, his thick appendage pulsing in your tight young pussy. You were so small and so pliable, he could easily break you like this and for some reason he wanted to see how far he could take it before you told him to stop.

You clawed the sheets in front of you, he could see how hard it was for you to take him, but it had been so long and you were so inviting. Your cunt was warm, goopy, and ready for some older cock to breed it, no matter how much you squirmed and whined.

It had been years since he'd last had a good fuck, so you can't blame an old man when he can't control himself once inside a younger pussy. His hips reeling back till only his thick tip remained then slamming back in.

It was uncoordinated and sloppy, and you couldn't help the tears that dripped down your face, allowing an older man to have you under him like this.

" Shhh..." He whispered into your ear, his hot breath wrapping around you and turning your mind into jelly, " you're being so good for me and you want to ruin it by yelling like some whore,"

His words made you squeal, eyes going wide while you shook your head like he'd accuses you of the worst crime ever.

" S-sorry sir," you mewled, your drool soaking your best friends pillow. How shameless.

He leans over you, opening his wet mouth to leave messy kisses on your face. He couldn't help the strong urge to fill you over and over again with his seed and make you his own, he almost felt jealous of his coward son for getting to spend ever moment with a cute thing like you, but he soon came to his senses.

A child like his son would never know how to treat a pussy like this. He wouldn't know how to tease your clit or fuck you dumb, he wouldn't have it in him to slap your face or mark your tits, he wouldn't have you crying on his cock instead he'd take his time with you like a lover not knowing you'd prefer to be used like a commonpiece fuck toy.

"Sir I'm there- I'm coming~ p-please let me cum,"

He effortlessly lifts and spins you around, kneeling as he holds you by your ass and uses your body like a fleshlight, pulling you up and down his length.

" Yeh make a fucking mess on me baby," he groans, watching your eyes roll and face relax as you let go. Your cunt squeezed him, trying to milk him for the cum he had not yet produced. Liquids sprayed from your cunt decorating his torso while your manicured nails dug into his shoulders, keeping yourself from squealing and alerting the residents downstairs of your taboo activities.

" oh fuck-" he gritted his teeth, his cock kicking inside you as his balls smacked into your ass, begging to fill the inviting pussy with glee. He shot his load in you with a cry a bruising grip on your bum as he leaned forward biting your shoulder to keep quiet.

The two of you sat in silence, separating and cleaning yourselves up like it hadn't happened, then going downstairs to continue the family gathering.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

" You were gone for so long. Did you get lost?" Shoto asked on the taxi home. A fond smile on his face, it seemed you and his father really got along after the meal, warming up to each other during the movie and board games.

" Kinda, I snooped in your bedroom," you mentioned

" gosh how embarrassing, I hope the All Might posters didn't put you off,"

If you were completely honest you didn't get time to look at the posters in his room, way to preoccupied getting familiar with his futon colour.

" no they were definitely embarrassing," you laughed, " today was really lovely, i wouldn't mind going over to your dad's again,"

I know it's super rushed. I literally wrote it half asleep. Sorry, gang, I'll probably edit it in the future

#mha #mha smut #endevour x reader #bnha #endevour #enji todoroki #enji smut #enji x reader #enji todoroki x reader smut #enji todoroki x reader #x reader #x reader smut #Endevour x reader smut #wrote while sleeping #not finished

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