#mario doesn't have that problem

[alteredphoenix]

I'm honestly not sure why Kishimoto Masashi hasn't done any other stories that isn't Naruto (well, there's Samurai 8, but that ended up cancelled, and Boruto is...well. It's Boruto But Let's Disassemble Boruto's Dad's Canon Until Not Even The Atoms Are Left).

Compared to the high fantasy ninja-cum-borderline-modern-day-cyberpunk aesthetic, Mario was such a breath of fresh air. Maybe not as lived in as Naruto (because it's a forty-four page one-shot, and you can't really afford to waste time on making New York feel "lived in" in that many pages), but it's so grounded in reality that the environment and the foundations of the story are already set in place. It doesn't have to worry about playing with the Magic System or keeping its chronology from getting tangled up in retcons and deus ex machina. It's short, it's simple, and gets right to the point while leaving many of its other elements inferred and in the background.

[miniagula]

movie sonadow would be so l umity-coded…and i say this bc their dynamic is similar to the games but with a different and tender perspective: they both empathize deeply with each other now, and this shadow is not as reticent or closed off bc of that. that being said: movie!sonic would ABSOLUTELY 'YOU'RE the sweet potato!' the hell out of shadow

[chloecherrysip]

Mario watching his and Luigi's commercial in Punch-Out Pizzeria

[rainbogen]

Say what you will about Mario and Luigi: Paper Jam.

But this was the game that finally put the kibosh on that stupid "Paper Mario is an uncaring jerk to his brother." joke of a joke from the first 3 PM games.

And I will love it just for that.

[kakusu-shipping]

Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)?

Who’s better at comforting the other?

For any ship or selfship that you would like! :) <3

Well when left to my own devices today I'm just gonna do Mariocest because the movie has infected my brain. Thankyou very much for asking.

4. Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)?

They were each other's first everything. They've always been together. I can't imagine either of them ever had another relationship. Maybe a handful of crushes, they both probably got asked out once or twice, but they're so much more important to each other than anyone else could ever be. They're each other's everything.

8. Who’s better at comforting the other?

I could see this going either way, because they know each other so well. Mario has more experience comforting Luigi, and Luigi has a better range of emotion than Mario. Does that make sense?

I'm gonna say Luigi's better at comforting Mario. Mario faces the problem head on, where as Luigi knows how to take a moment to be upset, let that feeling out, and calm back down first.

[aberooski]

Every day I get 🤏 this much closer to getting out of chapter 1 of Chazzerella.

[duckapus]

The Goomba Who Sold the World AU

Through some cosmic fluke(or just an accident during 3 and 4′s SMG training) an average Goomba with an average life and average ambitions gains the ability to see the Code and use Commands.He doesn’t really do much with it at first, just experimenting with the Commands to see what they do and using them for some minor quality-of-life improvements.

Then he gets to thinking, if these powers can improve his life maybe they can improve other lives too. So he starts subtly changing more things, giving the people around him what he thinks they need in a seemingly selfless gesture. But it...doesn’t work? They’re not happy, despite (because of) the changes, and he doesn’t understand. They should be happy! They should be grateful! Can’t they see that things are better now?! So he doubles down, trying to find something in the Command list that’ll fix things. And then he finds it, way down at the bottom of the Last Resorts section.

[command]>Manual_Override: Characters who see User will obey User without question and defend User at all costs. Does not affect Guardians, Avatars, Administrators, or Outside Entities.

And just like his previous commands, he uses this one as quietly and subtly as possible, not wanting to be a leader(or so he tells himself) but willing to become one for the sake of his Better World.

All of his happens so quietly that it goes completely unnoticed by the crew until they see a broadcast showing The Goomba Who Sold The World telling everyone to Find Mario and the four SMGs, along with instructions on how His World is going to improve.

The only ones not affected besides them are Lil Coding(since it’s the manifestation of 3 and 4′s code so their protection extends to it), Melony(its the one good thing that came from her getting possessed by Niles) and Steve(his Minecraft Server is a separate universe that happens to be connected to the main one, and he didn’t get uploaded like the Newgrounds characters did. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it). And despite there being quite a few powerhouses in the group, it’s still them against Literally Everyone Else(or at least everyone who saw the broadcast), so they’re definitely not gonna have an easy time of it.

[aspiringfalseidol]

So as you can guess I'm Italian and here pretty much everyone is raised catholic (yay thank you popetropolis aka Vatican city).

Anyways I am always kind of bewildered when I hear about American Christians because these guys are, like, hardcore believers lmao

Here in Churchland nobody actually believes the scriptures in a literal way, and even most practicing Catholics don't really think the old testament things happened. It's so funny seeing Americans hating Christians and remembering that in Burgerland christian basically means religious fundamentalist while here the minimum requirement to say you're christian is going to mass once a year lmao

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC My Brother in the Mirror

Damian doesn't like mirrors.

He never mentioned the fact to other members of the family, but they are detectives and vigilantes, it's their job to be observant. Which, after so many years, becomes a habit.

Damian doesn't actively avoid the mirrors - he has a mirror in his bathroom, he didn't express any discomfort over going into a mirror labyrinth at some carnival they've attended (he expressed disgust over taking part in something so stupid, in his words, but that's a whole another story), and he actually spent a few minutes in front of the funhouse mirrors when no one was looking, watching his own reflection distort in various ways. He also has no problems with his self-image - he doesn't mind pictures of him taken at any time (unless it's Tim, but that's, again, a whole another story), he's drawn a few self-portraits that were rather accurate and he liked them.

He just doesn't like mirrors. For some reason.

His family, both close and extended, never questioned it. They did some gentle research to see if the dislike was caused by some kind of problem Damian was experiencing without telling anyone, but when they found no proof of that, they've just decided it was some quirk of his. Everyone has quirks. Dick doesn't like eating cereal like a normal person, Tim despises sleep, Steph is at war with any color other than purple.

That is, until one day, Tim witnesses Damian sitting in front of a mirror.

He is not even aware of it - the whole family is having a game night, and through some arguments and rearrangements on the couch, Damian ends up sitting on the left side of it, where his back is turned to one of the three mirrors in the room. Tim, who's lost the last round, is slumping in an armchair nearby, pointedly looking away from the screen where Damian and Jason are enthusiastically competing over the first place in Mario Cart. Of course, Tim can't just not watch it since he needs to know their strategies. But turning back around would also be admitting defeat.

The solution? Easy, watch the screen through the mirror.

Which is when he notices it.

Damian in the mirror doesn't act the same as Damian in the room. Out of the corner of his eye, Tim can see the real Damian moving around, shoving Jason with his elbow, fully concentrated on the game, and yelling something. Damian-in-the-mirror is sitting unnaturally still, the back of his head over the couch unmoving.

Tim forgets all about the game when Damian's reflection starts to turn around. Slowly and carefully, eerie in the way the horror movies are, the boy in the mirror turns his head around like an owl, his neck twisting inhumanely.

His eyes are green. Green like the toxic waste, like Jason's madness, like acid in cartoons, like the Waters of Lazarus.

Damian in the mirror smiles, his unblinking, gliwing eyes fixed on Tim, and his teeth are sharp and pointy, and there are too many of them, humans can't smile this wide.

"-im? Tim!" A hand nudges him in the shoulder, and Tim looks away from the mirror, finding Dick standing over him. The noise of the game room returns all at once, and, wait, when did it become quiet for Tim?.. He must have a strange expression on his face because Dick's easy smile falls slightly, and he frowns, "Is everything okay?"

Tim looks back to the mirror, but the green-eyed boy in the mirror is gone, and the mirror only reflects Damian as he is: sitting on the couch.

"Yeah," Tim shakes his head and forces a smile on his lips, "I just zoned out."

"Okay," Dick pats him on the shoulder and gives him the controller, "It's your turn now."

Tim takes the controller and turns around, facing the screen. Tim throws a quick glance at Damian, who had slid down on the couch so his head would not be in the reflection anymore. Tim sees the cold, warning hint to his eye, a clear do not speak of it message.

Tim doesn't like that the mirror is now behind him.

[emile-hides]

I headcanon that Mario and Luigi call their cousin their niece, due to an age difference. And how they have a paternal caring for the girl.

Yeah yeah, I figured that as well. You can read all my Mario Family Headcanons on this post if you want to

But yeah, they're cousins but they call her their Niece because she's like 11 years younger than them. Which I dunno maybe it's because my family isn't all that tight knit but having cousins that are a good 10 years older or younger than you isn't that weird to me.

I can't say I've thought of them having a paternal/parental kind of caring over her?? That feels weird? She's their weird little sister and they're her slightly out of touch but silly big brothers. They don't get each other like ever, Mario can't wrap his head around Roblox and she could never understand how Luigi found old horror movies genuinely scary when the effects look that bad, but they're the third generation of the Mario Family, the Bros got her back and she can rely on them and tell them anything.

I dunno, I feel like they should be more Sibling with a Big Age Gap kind of dynamic rather than some Semi-Uncles/Paternal kind of thing?

[kaasiand]

What's up with the 3ds grudge?

Basically the 3DS tried to be too many conflicting things at once, and ended up being a bad DS as a result. It's... fine... in its own right (minus the poor audio) but a lot of what worked strongly on DS just took so much of a back seat here, in favour of Trying To Be The Handheld That Doesn't Want To Be A Handheld. If someone ever made another DS, they should iterate on the original DS, rather than continue where the 3DS left off.

Screens have different dimensions (both in the sense of resolution and in the 2D/3D sense), meaning anything cool that the DS could do by swapping the screens or making them form one long screen, was a lot more awkward to pull on 3DS. Don't even think about holding it sideways (like a book or the Mario Bros. game & watch) if you want to use the 3D feature.

On DS, games had a choice in their design (to put the gameplay on the top or bottom screen) since the screens were basically identical except for touch, but the 3DS basically pushed for everything to be on the top screen (that's the bigger screen and that's where the 3D is!). The touchscreen often felt neglected, or only there because "they had to" (= the DS had a bottom screen and this thing needed to play those games too so we keep a bottom screen here too).

It also felt like the 3DS wanted way more games that tried to be full 3D home console games except crammed onto a handheld (the switch does this better by... actually being a home console) like it didn't want to be a real handheld at all. Turning the system on and off was also slow as hell and so it takes longer to actually get to your game (same problem the wii u had).

It also moved the dpad into an awkward spot where it makes DS games feel worse to play on it, and tried to make the circle pad essentially a replacement of the dpad, when the two excel at different things and should not be treated as a direct up/downgrade of the other. Metroid: Samus Returns for example feels genuinely awful to control with the circle pad imo and while Dread made the stick movement feel a lot smoother I really don't like that the 3DS kinda killed dpad controls for 2D nintendo games. The controls are also no longer symmetrical, so anything the DS could mirror for left-handed controls would work worse on 3DS.

Also I just kinda personally prefer the more pixely and crunchier feel of DS sprites, fonts, models and compressed textures. 3DS doesn't hit the same and instead only has low quality audio that I never want to listen to and a screen that funnily enough looks more crisp when held the wrong way.

[0-n-1-x]

Hiro Hamada x Reader Headcanons

Link to my masterlist <33

-its the hiro that can't always make it to dates but will never hesitate to invite you over to his lab

-its the hiro that never shares ANY of his gummy bears with ANYONE but where he's churching on you always shares

-its the hiro that is so confused why you don't pick up on his "obvious" flirting

-its the hiro that asks baymax to fly by your window to check that your safe

-its the hiro that will invent a machine to fix any moderately annoying problem in your life

-its the hiro that also doesn't pick up on any of your actually obvious flirting

-its the hiro that goes on dates with you before you start dating but doesn't consider any of them as actual dates (he was too oblivious to realize then and regrets not acting upon his feelings for you)

-its the hiro that yaps so much about what on his mind to his friends, but when you start dating he will somehow find every way to talk about you, but he genuinely does not realize because you are what's on his mind

-its the hiro that is initially shy around you, stumbling over his words and avoiding eye contact (especially when you smile at him GOD this boy is whipped)

-its the hiro that tries to impress you with his knowledge of robotics and tech, but he sometimes gets too excited and rambles on about things (that go over your head) When he realizes it, he gets all flustered and apologizes, which you find adorable.

-its the hiro that texts you late at night, usually about something random that made him think of you, and you end up having long conversations that go on until one of you falls asleep.

-its the hiro that has movie nights with you but you CANNOT watch a sci-fi movie with because he'll just critique the ability of technology to take take over the world

-its the hiro that BEGS you to couple cosplay with him at san fransokoyo comic-con (yall are beast boy and raven you cant prove me wrong)

-its the hiro that loves helping you with your studies, especially if it's anything science or math-related. He’s patient and explains things in a way that makes sense, and you can tell he genuinely enjoys spending this time with you (but not without a little teasing as is LOWKEY did skip almost all of highschool)

-its the hiro that gets upset when he has a cute contact name for you and his is ‘Captain Cutie’

-its the hiro that is a sweat at games like smash bros and mortal kombat, but always has time to sit down and play mario kart and animal crossing with you

-its the hiro that cares so so so so much for you

[megamagimugi]

He's-a Gone

Luigi time! To suffer, that is.

(CW: character death)

This is obviously a sort of comlementary piece to I Was-a Too Late. But it's more than just that as it also illustrates a certain fun, dark what-if idea I had. Please keep reading if you're intrigued!

Lore:

Luigi's Mansion, the first game. Everything goes the same as in canon until the final boss fight, when Luigi defeats King Boo in his Bowser costume. After King Boo comes out and Luigi intends to suck him in, the villain laughs and reveals the truth: Mario's painting was an illusion, so was everything Madame Clairvoya saw. All just to mess with Luigi. Meanwhile the real Mario wasn't just captured by the Boos, he was immediately killed by them on their King's orders. The only physical thing that's left of him in this realm is the five items Luigi found - hidden by the Boos for Luigi to find, another part of King Boo's sick game.

Luigi is able to finish the fight despite his shock and grief, fueled by the anger King Boo never expected from him. After getting out of the painting the plumber discovers that it is indeed empty, no Mario or anyone else in the portrait.

Heartbroken and guit-ridden, Luigi goes back to Professor E. Gadd's lab and gives him back the Poltergust 3000. He doesn't even want to stay long enough to see what is going to happen to the ghosts. Of course the Professor tries to offer some semblance of comfort, but we all know it's not his forte.

So Luigi leaves, only taking Mario's five items with him. He notices that the mansion has disapeared without a trace. The reality of it all finally hits him, and he practically collapses onto a nearby tree's large root protruding from the ground, putting down the precious items around himself, only leaving the matching red hat and the letter in his hands. He should have known something was off. After all, the Mario he saw in the painting was wearing his hat and both gloves.

Looking at all these items, to his growing horror he can't help but imagine what exactly might have happened to his brother and what his last moments might have been like. He hugs the hat to his chest and rereads Mario's note several times, knowing that the brief warning was his brother's last words to him.

Luigi can do nothing but cry for the beloved brother he couldn't save, desperately wishing it was his warm, living and breathing body pressed to his chest rather than just a couple of his belongings.

But Mario is truly gone, apparently having met such a horrific fate that not even a single part of his body is left in the physical world.

[Good night]

…I'll leave the rest up to your imagination ;) Sorry if I got carried away with my description. Occasionally even I enjoy being a little dramatic, though I'm no writer whatsoever.

Yeah, I'm not apologizing for making this one - I was nicer to Luigi than to his bro, at least here the Mushroom Kingdom and everyone in it (except for Mario lol) is still okay!

But alas,

You can no longer play as Mario (warning: this is a video with sound)

Rest in spaghetti, funny wahoo man.

@federthenotsogreat I'm tagging you because you said you wanted more Mario art like I Was-a Too Late, thought you might like this one too!

@drones-of-innocence Also tagging you because you were interested in my idea.

Edit: Tagging a few more mutuals who might want to see this based on their reaction to my previous angsty work just in case, feel free to ignore. Or ask me to remove the tag if you want, no problem.

@silenzahra (remember, no rush) @c-lavanda @jell-o101 @stripetkattelalala54-gf

@luigixfanxayjay @itsavee4117

And you @giddlygoat just because you have a Luigi's Mansion AU and I thought you might appreciate this... Also because I'm a fan 👉👈

[stxrrgirlz]

Stepbro!Beomgyu x Stepsister!reader

Wc. 1.3k

A/n. I never fully finished kinktober from last year so I’m taking the time now to fully finish it. That means I’ll be posting 4 new fics before this month ends. I won’t be participating in kinktober this year buttttt I will be posting during it! I missed y’all <3333

1:34PM

Your apartment wasn't big enough for both of you; it already felt claustrophobic with just you and Beomgyu living in the place, but when he's constantly inviting friends over to stay the night, it gets even worse. You can't count on one hand how many nights you've walked out of your room with just an oversized shirt on and met with one of Beomgyu’s friends laying on the couch.

While you didn't mind his friends staying over every once in a while, the recurring visits from them made it hard to walk around your own home without the worry of flashing someone.

Sometimes you wanted to kick Beomgyu out of your apartment but he needed a place to stay during college, and your parents convinced you over many long phone calls to not put your stepbrother in a horrible situation like that. You weren't quite sure what to do about this problem, but one day when Yeonjun almost walked in on you showering, you decided to have a talk with him.

You sit on the couch in your living room with a bowl of cereal in your hand, slowly lifting up the spoon to your lips and crunching down on it. Hearing Beomgyu’s door open, you turn your head and speak with a mouth full of cereal.

“Come here,” you pat the seat next to you.

Bemogyu sits down next to you; he looks shy, and his hands are placed directly on his lap as if he's nervous of making contact with you. noticing his behavior, you raise an eyebrow and him.

Swallowing your cereal, you begin to speak in a confused voice.

“Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah, did you need anything?”

You lean in closer to him, putting the back of your hand against his forehead. A crimson blush develops on his cheeks as he stays perfectly still.

“Well yeah, but you're just acting weird.”

“Oh- sorry”

"No, it's fine; however, I wanted to talk to you about Yeonjun... or all your friends.”

You lean back from your previous position from in front of his face.

“I mean, it's nice to see you socializing, but there isn't enough space for them to stay over every day, not to mention they don't know how to knock.”

Beomgyu nods slowly, “Well, I'll invite them over less.”

“Thank you”

You nod with appreciation and focus on continuing to eat your (soggy) cereal.

Beomgyu takes a controller from the coffee table and turns on Mario Kart, handing you your own controller silently. Looking up from your lap and staring at his face that has already turned back to the screen. Moving slightly closer to him, legs touching so you can get a better view of the screen. Beomgyu freezes up before relaxing again as he starts the game.

The next few hours pass slowly, and you start growing sleepy. Beomgyu notices and turns off the console. Stretching out your arms before laying your head on his shoulder. Beomgyu adjusts himself so he's fully lying down and you're clinging onto him from the side. You can hear Beomgyus' heartbeat when you lay your head on his chest, adjusting your leg so it reaches across his body, making your ass perfectly positioned on his dick.

Hearing Beomgyu groan, you try to lay still so he thinks you're sleeping. His hand moves from your upper back down to your ass, groping the flesh in his veiny hands. Making a move, you slowly start to move your hips up and down, grinding on his sweatpants. Beomgyu doesn't say anything about your advances and instead reaches his hands into your pants from the backside and moves them down to your ankles with his hands. You kick off the rest of your pants without his help.

Beomgyu moves your pants to the side and dips his hand into your folds. Feeling your wetness, he quickly flips you onto your backside, with him hovering above you, making it easier to maneuver. Beomgyus’ hands skillfully work their way deeper into your cunt, collecting your slick on his hands on the way, slowly scissoring your cunt open, preparing you for his length.

Letting out a lengthy moan at the feeling of his fingers inside your gummy walls, you arch your back, pushing yourself into him. Beomgyu nuzzles his face into your neck and keeps a lethal pace with his hands. Before adding a third finger to your tight cunt, he pulls away from the crook of your neck and initiates a deep, passionate kiss. Your lips latching onto each other, almost as if they were made for each other. As Beomgyu pulled away from your lips, he quickened his pace, focusing all his attention onto your clitoral area as his thumb circled the sensitive part.

Your lips part to breathily moan out Beomgyus’ name and stutter out a warning before you cum. You feel your fluids dripping onto Bemogyus fingers. Beomgyu uses his clean hand to lift up your chin, making eye contact with you before sticking his fingers in his mouth and licking them clean.

Beomgyu pulls away from your body to pull down his own sweatpants. You sit up a little and you meet with Beomgyus bulge, the cum staining his boxers; you can tell he's been painfully hard for a while now. You use your hand to pull down his boxers, and his length jumps out at you. Beomgyu uses his hands to push you back down to lay comfortably on the couch again and uses his hand to grab his cock and guide it through your folds.

You wrap your hands around Beomgyus neck, letting out a short, breathy moan straight into his ear. You feel Beomgyu stretching you out. You feel every single vein, and even the slight curve at the tip, he filled you out so well, unlike any other guy who's tried to make you cum.

“fu-fuck you’re too tight, baby.” Beomgyu whispers gently into your ear.

”s’ too big,” you whine back in defense.

Beomgyu lifts up your hip to get a better angle and slowly starts moving in and out of your tight cunt. Your nails fly to the beomgyus back, gripping it tightly, leaving lasting marks from your tight grip. As you get used to beomgyus length, he continues to move, moving his mouth to your neck to suck and tease the area. Red and purple marks follow wherever his mouth goes from his roughness.

Beomgyu pulls back from your neck and makes eye contact with your lust-filled eyes. He can see the way your mouth contarts and moves to let out sounds, making it known how good he makes you feel. He reaches his hand down to your clitoral area to stmulate it, helping you get to your climax quicker. Beomgyu knows he's not going to last any longer in your cunt when he feels your cunt squeezing him tightly, giving him the signal you're close.

“m’ so close,” moaning out as you dig your nails tighter onto Beomgyus back.

“I know, baby, you’re- fuck, squeezing me so tight.”

Beomgyu quickens his pace, adjusting himself yet again to hit your G-spot.

You look down to see a gush of liquid coming out of your cunt, covering your face as Beomgyu pulls out, embarrassed that you squirt all over Beomgyus's bottom half. Beomgyu removes your hands from your face and holds eye contact with you as he lets himself come undone all over your stomach.

Beomgyu falls on top of your body, using his hands to fully cover you in his embrace, your bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces, sounds of heavy breathing filling the room. You both lay there for a while, taking in that you just fucked your step-sibiling. Beomgyu gets up after a while, getting a cloth to clean you up with and moving you to his bed before laying down with you and holding you in his embrace.

[miniaturesuitgladiator]

Hi 👋 I'm knew to posting stories so please don't be rude , I understand that this isn't what some people like ,but there's no need to be rude. I appreciate everyone who read my first post and I am very grateful for them. Please leave tips on how I can improve. Thank you for your time and enjoy!!

Note: this is the first chapter of that little drabble I did. This chapter doesn't include damian or the batfamily. Next chapter it will. I just wanted yall to see readers family dynamics ,and I didn't want to make the chapter so long. Oh ,and N/N= nickname.

WARNINGS: None really no one is yandere ,yet.

-💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗-

It was snowing. Which should be no surprise to you ,atleast not at this time of year. It always snowed in October ,always. As always the snow was beautiful and quite peaceful as well. Watching the perfectly white snow fall onto the dead leaves on your yard was quite peaceful.

Comfortably sat on your living room couch waiting for your dad to get ready for church. You quietly watched TV. You had already been ready for about half an hour. Decided in it was best to get ready earlier than later. Just like your mother had always told you. Your mother always rather be early to an event rather than on time ,and usually she was on early. But then came your father. Now Your father was the complete opposite of your mother. I suppose that's what evens them out.. See your father always seemed to have a problem with keeping up with the time. So more often than not you'd be late because of your father.

You didn't mind though, atleast not as much as your mother did. You found it funny how your tall and fierce father. Sherrif of the small town you live in. Looked like a kicked puppy as your mother scolded him.

you silently watched as your father practically ran through the house looking for his church clothes. You smile as you see your mother walk towards you. She smiles back at you and kisses you on the top of your head. "You ready for church , baby " she says walking to kitchen. "Yes ma'am " you say turning your attention back on the TV. "Good" your mother says packing the food she plans to bring to church. You sigh in frustration. There's never anything to watch on Sunday. So you resort to the only channel that might be interesting. The news.

Your eyes open in excitement when you see the headline for today. BATMAN SAVES GOTHAM FROM A NUCLEAR BOMB! You always liked batman. You thought he did good. Sure he made some mistakes ,but he was only human. After all he had saved Gotham , like a thousand times. So he had to be good.

"Baby turn that off. I don't want you seeing that kind of stuff." Your mom says from behind the kitchen counter. "C'mon mom it's batman. He's a hero." You say trying to persuad her. Nothing big like that ever happened in your small town. Sure you were gratefull that your town wasn't always being attacked ,but nothing even slightly exciting happens in your town. So you live off the gossip of gotham.

"The only hero you need is Jesus. So turn. It. Off. I'm not telling you agian, baby." Your mother says gently smiling at you ,but you know better than to push her buttons. So with a dramatic sigh you turn off the TV.

"Thank you. Now go check on your brother for me." She says pointing towards your brothers room. " whatever" you say quietly ,scared of what she would say if she heard. Because in her eyes that's 'disrespectful'.

"Riley are you ready?" you say knocking on your brothers bedroom door. No reply . So you knock agian. No reply. "I'm coming in."You say and your shocked about what you see when you open the door. Riley your 7 year old little brother is sleeping peaceful in his bed. quickly you rush over to his bed. "Riley wake up ,mamas gonna kill you." You say as you shake him. Slowly he opens his eyes. "What's wrong N/N." He says and you almost feel bad for how concerned he looks ,but then you remember.. He's the one that decided to play Mario Cart all night.

" It's Sunday riley" you say. You watch as realization hits him straight in the face. Quicker than you can imagine he's up and running around in his room. "Oh no , does mama know I slept in." He says grabbing him a towel to take a shower. "No , she thinks your ready." You say but surely he didn't hear you by how quickly he rushed to take a shower.

Being the kind sister you are you grab him some cloths and leave them on the bed.

Deciding that it's definitely best not to go back to the living room. Since your mother would probably ask about riley. So instead you go to your room.

walking in your room you stand in front of the mirror your grandpa had made for you. Looking in the mirror you definitely thought this was one of the best outfits you had worn to church. Not the most expensive though ,since most of your clothing was thrifted. Nevertheless you did love your outfit today.

"I'm ready." You hear you father yell. "Well it's about time." You hear your mother reply. You smile to yourself as you walk towards the front door. You know your mother and father love eachother, but to someone that doesn't know them would probably think their about to sign divorce papers any minute. "You look beautiful ,princess."your father says with a light kiss to the top of you head.

"Riley!" Your mother yells ,since she didn't see your brother by the door. "Coming." He shouts back. Hurriedly your brother practically runs down the stairs. " how do I look." Riley questions and you don't even have to say what's on your mind. Because your father beats you to it.

"Like a mess." Your father says. Which earns him a punch on the arm by your mother. "Nonsense , you look handsome baby." You mother says as she gives him a kiss on the head ,and pats his hair so it doesn't look like a literal mess. "Thanks mama." Your brother says with a smile. "Well we better get going or we're going to be late." Your mother says. As she practically pushes everyone out the door. "Darling, it's only 7:10 by the time we get there we're going to be 40 minutes early." You father says with a sigh. Unlocking his truck.

"Which is practically late." Your mother says hopping into your father's Ford. To which your father just shakes his head with a smile.

The drive to the church wasn't long ,but you wish it was. So maybe you could get to watch it snow for a little longer. Snow was beautiful. Snow seemed to cleanse everything and turn it white agian. Which if you said that to your mother she'd probably say Jesus does the same thing...

Looking over to where your brothers sitting. You can see he's passed out. His head is resting on the window and he's drooling a bit. He looks kinda cute ,but that's only cause he's asleep and not cuase trouble. An you know it.

'Today is gonna be a good day.' You say to yourself ,and Who wouldn't think that it's Sunday. Every Sundays a good day because we get to go to church ,and see family. Maybe it was a bit naive to think that just because it was Sunday it was going to be a good day ,but that's how you were raised.

Ten years from now you'll look back and wish that for once. Just once in your 16 years of having lived your family would have missed church this sunday...

-💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗-

THANKS FOR READING!!!!

[bachibabe]

— Heaven

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

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

✧*̣̩┊: wc: 7.0k

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

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

18+ → minors / blank blogs dni

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Choso, Choso, Choso~’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How could he possibly face you? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It could destroy you. But it won’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Choso is going to die. For real this time.