new jjk episode has me on a grind LOL they’re so hot. kirakari and you have an onlyfans i guess
riding kirara on that stupid camera room couch while hakari records.
the room reeks of alcohol and hakaris stupidly expensive cologne, filling your nostrils along with the scent of sex and the beautiful girl who’s lap you’re in, hips moving with newly found effort.
you’re bouncing with more effort than you usually would if there wasn’t a large hand rubbing your ass from behind you. filthy, brain melting words of encouragement from behind you.
“theeere you go babydoll, show em. you got it. fuck ‘er for me.” hakaris right behind you, that stupidly large hand helping you bounce your hips down on kirara, the filthy sound of your thighs plopping down on her.
whatever hand hakari didn’t have on you was recording the scene, the good stuff that reeled in extra cash for you guys.
“o-oouuh baby.. go a little faster okay? know you can. feels greaaaat.” kirara slurred, a dumb pleased smile plastered on her face. her manicured hands going up to hold on your hips, bouncing you.
“you heard ‘er, speed up. look at the camera while you’re at it.” his hand left your hip to grip the side of your chin, pulling you back to get a view your glossy eyes in the camera. all the attention was driving you up the wall, all the hands on your body and the camera observing your pleasured face.
with all your new found courage and the need you felt to please the camera- and your oh so sweet girl beneath you, you sped up. hips clashing back down against the woman. so loud and obscene it filled the room, blocking out any distant noise from the TV-cameras. you could feel kirara shaking, sensitive girl she was. pierced cock twitching inside of you unashamedly.
“pleaaase give it ta’ me baby.. i know you can! feels so good..” kirara nearly whined out, her star shaped pupils completely blown and dilated with complete focus on your face that hakari had long released from his grasp. still recording the nasty shit going on between you two. you could feel her hips stutter and begin to fuck right back up into you jus’ the way she liked it. sloppy and quick.
you buried your face in the crook of her neck, inhaling that non perfumed scent of purely her. that alone could be your own equivalent to an aphrodisiac, heavenly. the sound of sweat damped skin slapping into eachother was something you’d hear in porn.
“pleaaaase, cmon cmon cmon.. know you want to- sooo bad!” pure rambling out of her mouth, she pulled your face up to connect your lips in a wet, heated kiss. her pierced tongue sliding its way in. her way of shutting herself up really.
“awh fuck, let me get that.” you could hear the grin and arousal in hakaris voice, even after the recording you’d be far from done. he moved the lousy phone camera over to record the sloppy scene of you and kiraras tongues fighting one another. the room was full of the pathetic whiny moans swallowed into wet kisses.
a sharp smack hit you- hakari from the pure feeling from it. you were getting sloppy.
“don’t get lazy on me now girl, ride it. show ‘em how you like taking it.” his guiding words made something in your gut twist into something much more intense- pulling a groan straight from your throat. you fucked back onto kirara with more intensity than before, disconnecting from the kiss to moan and whine into her neck, her hands immediately shooting to hold onto you- anything really. hakari gave a pleased huff of approval.
“yes- yessyesyes cmon baby, gimme- mnnhgg..” her head tilted back in pure bliss, though her hips never quit moving up to meet yours. you hadn’t even spoke this whole time, pleasure made you a very different person. all that came from your throat was uncontrolled moans and whines, chasing as much friction as you possibly could.
“g’nna cum baby- take it take it take it..” it was only a few more sloppy thrusts upwards and she was cumming- quick, thick spurts of release into you that had her reeling- fucking herself into you through that overstimulation to make it last as long as she could make it.
you hadn’t last much longer truly, hakari’s free hand that wasn’t focused on recording the sinful act was under your body using two fingers in fast, pressured circles to give you that extra push of stimulation, your body arching downward and pressing you further into the lady beneath you, chest to chest. you’re convulsing by the time kirara’s spent and done, a lazy fucked out smile on her face when you cross that finish line, tightened up around her like she’d disappear if you didn’t.
hakari let out a low whistle, hard and leaking a damp spot through his slacks. sheesh. pressing his thumb down on that red button to stop the recording.
“woo, look at my girls. think i need a retake, though. less hiding yeah?”
ugh having hakari as that one ex boyfriend who will always shit on your present relationships—
like you guys broke up over him always being at clubs or gambling, a fair reason to break up in his eyes, but he gotta do what he gotta do. doesnt mean hes happy over it, but seeing you with a new dude? oh hes fucking cocky.
“new man, girlie?” he draws out, the vape leaving his lips and lazily looking to you. you nod, on your phone and licking your lips. “let me meet him.”
“uhm, no?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow. “youre my ex for a reason.”
“uh, okay ouch.” he dramatizes, blowing smoke. “we still friends, aint’ we?” he asked, his hands on his thighs. “just looking out for my friends.”
you sigh.
“no, kinji, youre not meeting my boyfriend.”
“why the hell not? tell him to come over here tonight.” he baits you, eyes fixed on you and licking his lips. the evening sun always knew how to put all eyes on your beautiful deep and rich skin.
“that would mean id have to leave.” you protest, failing for his bait. you quickly realize, and you groan.
“so,” he starts, a chuckle to his voice and he leans forward with the vape between his pointer and middle finger. “man has no car? how is he gon’ get you if you need him?”
“kin—“
“aht!” he hushes you, making you bite your cheek in irritation. “how is he gonna take you to where you wan’ go to?” he asks, looking to you. “you gotta call your ex boyfriend to take you to your hair appointments and get your nails done.” he smirks. “matter of fact, tell him to uber here.”
a moment of silence washes over the conversation, and you breathe through your nose and look away.
“girl,” he barks, leaning back and spreading his thighs more— that delicious manspread he always did drove you mad and your center gets gooey. “let me get this straight—“
“you date me, a dude who actually has money— and a vehicle, but then downgrade to a broke lame dude?” he chuckled out his question, “i fuckin knew it.”
“kinji, chill out.” you nervously laugh, eyes wandering to his thighs.. where his delightful cock laid beneath his jeans. “it— its different, he doesnt have a job like yours.”
“you right, he ain’t got no job.” he retorts, watching your line of sight to his growing cock. he grabs himself through his jeans, making a show of his arousal and desire. “im an ex for a reason, pretty.” he purrs, biting his lip. “butttt, if you want this thick cock just fer’ you.. all you have to do is send that text and get on your back.”
“my back?” you choke out, the dick trance leaving you. “why?”
he cocks his head, eyes roaming over your body. “have i ever made you suck this dick before ive eaten yer’ creamy pussy?” he already knew the answer, watching your thighs tremble. “ gon’ head and send that weak breakup text, or you can watch me watch you.”
emotional support bunny at Jujutsu High Culling Game version | Hidden Inventory version | Curse version | Tokyo version | Coworker version
૮․ ․ ྀིა 18+, minors dni
cw: free use vibes, oral/deepthroat, piv, praise, toxic yuri(Kirara), nipple play, object insertion, forced orgasms, fingering
note: i’ve never written anything for hiromi before, i apologize if he’s ooc :(
includes: Hakari, Hoshi, Kashimo, Higuruma
being the emotional support bunny at Jujutsu High means you’re there for your friends whenever they need you. you get lots of attention, lots of cuddles and lots of orgasms :3
Kinji Hakari🎰
he thinks it’s funny. how you yelp when he pulls on your fluffy tail. how needy you get sometimes, how easy. let’s be honest, kinji is a bit arrogant and not the type to stress. ever. besides, sappy dates and heartfelt conversations are not his thing.
so yes, his idea of comfort and support is a shameless, nearly public blowjob. he’s not rough per se, just a little. his favourite thing to do is to push his throbbing cock down your throat and to hold it there for many agonizing seconds without moving. in a way, it’s difficult for him too. the idea of fucking your throat is so tempting.
he likes how your chest rises and falls, how your nostrils flare and drool climbs down your chin, how your eyes get beady as you struggle to focus on breathing. “fuck, hold it baby, jus’ like that,” he grunts quietly.
but even then, your cute pout makes him have mercy. your lips get so swollen after he pulls out, his coarse pubes have been rubbing against the glossy skin.
“you took me so well, bunny, fuck, fuck…”
he gives you some time to recover, lets you gasp for air between his legs. the way his cock hangs heavy and proud in front of your face makes you wet, no matter how shy you are. his tip is a pretty shade pf pale brown, it stands out nicely against his darker coloured shaft… you wish he’d rub it against your pussy more often.
kinji only notices your heightened arousal when your mouth is around him again, tongue working on him desperately. “easy there, eeeasy, girl…”
fingers card through your hair, collecting locks and your two drooping bunny ears to pull them back.
from time to time, he fucks into your mouth to make you gag a little, only to coo and apologize when you mewl in protest. “i know, baby, i know, ‘m bein’ mean…can’t help it, i love it when you struggle a bit.”
of course he does, it’s good for his ego.
but you don’t mind, do you? you’re a rather durable bunny girl, used to rough handling.
direct penetration with kinji’s cock is rare. only happens when he really needs to let off some steam, then he’s all serious and focused. eyes zeroed in on how your tired folds part for the nth time as he sinks into you.
his thrust get frantic, desperate and he begs orders you to cum on his cock. he needs your pussy to strangle him.
it’s like a whole work out, really, both of you breathless and exhausted at the end. worth it? absolutely. by the time he’s kissing you gently again, he’s already figured out what to do about the thing that upset him in the first place.
nothing gets his brains working like a good fuck <3
Kirara Hoshi💫
messy, messy girl, messy friendship.
on one hand, she likes having you at her side, on the other, she gets jealous if kinji seeks you out. but hey hey! kirara does that too so it’s really unfair !
let’s just focus on when she’s being nice, okay? because when kirara’s jealous, you better run to someone before she catches you and gives your little pussy and bum some spanks:(
or she puts all kinds of uncomfy things on your nipples, like ice blocks and clamps :( and she makes all sorts of silly threats, like how she wants to give you nipple piercings :(( and you tell her those hurt and she laughs :(
her main sources of frustration are small inconveniences and you always know just the thing to cheer her up. anything that ranges from dressing up to shopping to smoking a little weed while listening to music can do the trick.
kirara likes to put blush on your tail, she taps the brush to your pretty butt until a pale pink hue appears. and gossip! lots of gossip. and then you both get tired and drowsy, like when kids eat too much sugar and come down from the high.
that’s when the sleepy giggling and the lingering touches come. at this point, you’re too wet, too needy and your mouth falls open obediently, letting kirara’s tongue press against yours. it becomes a slow, sloppy make out session. soft ah-ahs fill the air, she pulls your hair, you squeal and part your legs.
“bun-bun, so eager, so pretty, wanna play with you a little…”
she likes to experiment on your little cunt, see what makes you wet, what makes your hole pulse nervously, what make you cry, what makes you spread your legs wider.
at first, kirara stares at the sight with excitement in her eyes, her star shaped pupils shine brighter as she inserts the end of of her makeup brush into you. a hand goes below the waistline of her skirt, she can’t resist stroking herself.
“this is the fourth one, right?” she asks you and you confirm with a pathetic moan that indeed, this is your fourth orgasm. so many objects have been inside you at this point.
“you’re gonna have a few more, hah… this makes me feel so good.”
you don’t say no to that, knowing she’s enjoying herself. you look down to see kirara’s sleepy expression, cheeks mushed against your thigh, half-liddes eyes fixed on your messy pussy, her fingers curl weakly around orange lipgloss she’s lazily pumping into you.
“give me another, i need to see you clench like that again.”
you cry out as you cum around the lipgloss, an embarassing little trickle of squirt runs down your folds and kirara smiles, fucking you through the climax.
Hajime Kashimo🌩️
hajime is confused. he’s never heard of bunny girls before, sure he’s seen some things during his life time but not… whatever you are…whatever your purpose is.
at first, he does not care. he came to fight and defeat and whatever his stupid sorcerer allies do is none of his business. and he’s a difficult person too so you have half a mind to steer clear of him.
your first interaction is just him wordlessly poking at your bunny parts with a frown, acting like the concept of your existence bothers him. he gets used to it. not just your whole being but how you support some team members, how you always know what they need, how you’re so happy to make others happy.
the ice breaks when one of the kids gets on his nerves. yuta makes a comment, he means well but he’s too perceptive for his own good. something about his reasons to join the culling game. hajime becomes sulky, agitated and instead of grilling everyone to ashes, he opts to brood in an onsen.
he doesn’t push you away when you climb into his lap but doesn’t really register you either.
you’ve heard him talk about sukuna before, that’s all he seems to care about so you start rambling quietly. not even a curse like him sounds threatening when you talk about him in that sweet tone. you recount the time sukuna got control of his vessel in shibuya, how scared you got and hajime hums non-commitally, his hands encircling your waist.
your tail twitches nervously against his inner thigh when you get to the part where sukuna looked at you briefly before continuing the massacre.
hajime smiles to himself a tiny bit. he loves hearing about how powerful sukuna is. it’s comforting…wait…it’s actually working. your methods are actually helping him. his hands part your thighs a little, encouraging you to keep talking, even if you have to take shallow breaths between the sentences now.
by the time you get to the part when sukuna switched vessels, two of his fingers are fully inside you, lazily stretching you open in the water. it stings a little, water isn’t the best lubricant but hajime’s other hand quickly finds your little clit and rubs it too. something hard pokes the underside of your thigh.
you try moving to make hajime feel good too but he stops you with a displeased grunt.
“nah, just keep talkin’, sweet thing…” the words are slurred, his movements still slow, like he isn’t even fingering you, just playing with something, using your pussy like a stim toy.
you obey, eventually start asking him questions too. he answers patiently. it’s a nice conversation, hajime doesn’t really open up but compared to how little he talks to others, he could be considered chatty. you learn a lot about an older era and he learns a lot about your body.
each time you cum, you apologize for interrupting.
“s’okay, let it all out,” he mumbles and waits for your orgasm to pass, lets you arch into his front before he continues the conversation and his previous ministrations.
hajime has to admit, you really are a helpful little bunny, the evenings he spends with you become his favourite.
Hiromi Higuruma ⚖️
what makes the life of an attorney, a sorcerer attorney no less, hard? the better question is, what doesn’t?
working sucks, injustice sucks, curses suck…
a while ago, he told himself to try new things. that includes you. the cute emotional support bunny. the few times he’s visited Jujutsu High, you were always so nice, albeit a little shy.
since hiromi mainly talks to yuji, he doesn’t see you that often, you’re always just passing by. how you manage to tolerate certain people (that blue haired threat for instance) around you is beyond him but maybe it just means you’re patient and non-judgemental. how…relieving.
it’s hard to guess what would help a man like hiromi feel better. you can’t magically fix japan’s jurisdiction system, can’t take away his guilt. so, you do small things to lighten his day.
your bring him coffee. he drinks a lot of that. double shot espressos, bitter and dark. the time you try them, your nose scrunches up, pulling your expression into a silly grimace. it almost makes hiromi laugh.
whenever a meeting causes him to have a headache, you massage the back of his neck, his temples and shoulders. he doesn’t even notice the satisfied groans that slip out between his gritted teeth.
sitting in his lap while he reads reports is the best. you’re like a weighted blanket for him, your soft fur brushing against his skin is a nice feeling too.
your breasts are his favourite. he sticks a hand under your blouse, slides it under your bra and fondles the warm flesh like a stress ball. the paper in his hand shakes ever so slightly as you start pressing your butt against his crotch.
“no, bunnny, i have to work, be good for me.”
you nod and let out an accidental yelp when he pinches your nipple as a warning.
“yes, sir, i’ll be so good,” you promise. and you do keep your word, you let hiromi play with your now swollen nipples without a complaint, even as the wetness coating your underwear start seeping into his clothes too.
despite hiromi’s attempted discipline, his breathing always get ragged, his hips buck up sometimes, his cock hardens as if just to spite him.
“are you okay, sir?”
oh god, how sweet and innocent you sound.
“please don’t let me fuck you, please—“
“yes, sir.”
that just makes it worse. he’s leaking from the tip of his cock against his thigh. your pussy must be so cute, covered in a patch of your fluffy fur, your juices stuck in the curls. it would be even prettier with his cum on it, he’d fill you up and pinch your folds together to make your entrance overflow.
luckily, or unluckily, you’re a good bunny. you help him calm down. he asked you not to let him fuck you, so that’s what you do.
you point at something on his report, read it out loud to redirect his thoughts. it works, it hurts but it works.
૮․ ․ ྀིაall rights reserved. no translations, plagiarism, modifications, reposts, or ai feeding. disturbing comments will be deleted. english is not my native language.
Content Warnings: jealous kirara (poor baby), hakari is his own warning tbh, kissing, reader IS DOWN BAD. fem!reader, mentions of blood and cuts, they're lowkey looking at you for a third.
cw: 1k
I had so much fun writing this! based off this lovely request!! thank you so much for this idea, you will forever be cherish 🥰
Hakari always gives you the best scripts. You were his top fighter after all, no way in hell he wouldn’t give you something you didn’t win. Yeah, you tried to shy away from it… especially with how his girlfriend would stare at you when you’d talked to him. But it’s Hakari Kinji we’re talking about.
And suddenly, he’s inviting you to the monitoring room after a fight.
“You got kinda roughed up there, Y/N,” Kinji chuckles, pouring you a drink you don’t think you’ll like. “She looks fine to me.” Kirara butts in before you can say anything, “There was probably no reason to invite her up here, Kin-Chan.” She argues, and you just purse your lips, looking away, I mean… Kirara was probably right, you were fine, maybe a bruise here ‘nd there. “Okay? What if she wanted a drink?” Kinji rebuts Kirara, and you can’t help but look down, feeling like a kid whose parents start fighting in the middle of dinner. “It’s really no big deal, like I wasn’t hurt and-”
Yeah, he still invites you up after that, offering a drink, a cigarette, money, whatever. But it’s especially after one fight, he personally goes to check on you.
And Kirara hates that.
I mean, who exactly were you?
Some sorcerer, who fought well? Okay, that wasn’t new.
But what was new, was him patching your face up after a rough fight. He made a mental note to remember the dude who went off-script as he’s dabbing cotton on your face.
“I’ve told you, I can patch myself up, Hakari.” You state, but Hakari shakes his head, “First of all, you’re a friend,” Hakari mumbles, grabbing your face to get a closer look, “And second, you’re the reason why I’m getting money, so shut up.”
It’s quiet, too quiet that you realize how close and intimate this is, and your heart drops, “How is Kirara?” You ask, but suddenly you feel like that’s a personal question, “She’s good, jealous of you though.” He laughs, making your eyes widen, grabbing his wrist and pulling away, “Whoa- what?” Hakari doesn’t say anything but shrugs, wearing that fuckass smile. “Thinks you’re gonna steal me away from her,” Getting closer to your ear, “My personal opinion? I would like to see you both be my girls.”
He leaves after that; the only thing you can hear is your heartbeat and the buzz of fluorescent lights.
It’s like Hakari purposefully planted that seed in your head, because now?
The last thing you’re seeing as you fall asleep is Kirara Hoshi's eyes.
It starts small, warm smiles here, waving at her, but she doesn’t budge, telling Hakari when they’re alone, “She keeps smiling at me, the fuck is she smiling at me for?”, and don’t get her started when she saw you pat his arm after a fight.
“Why did you let her touch you?” Kirara interrogated, and Hakari just shrugged, smirking at her when she pouted at him.
“Give her a chance,” Kinji suggested, “She’s nice, and you’d probably like her.” However, Kirara isn’t hearing any of it. “You’re just trying to make me jealous.” Kirara whines, pouting at him, “Is it working?”
Days had passed, silently trying to get Kirara on your side, and you almost started praying at one point. Trying to think of a moment or a day, you could get her alone, but that was impossible; she was always at Hakari's side, and it was starting to piss you off. Because why did his greedy ass always get to have her by his side? It was like Hakari was doing it on purpose, especially when he invited you up, smirking at you whenever he slid his hand down her waist.
Fuck ass Kinji Hakari.
It was late, and Hakari decided he needed more of whatever he was drinking, and left you two to be alone; however, not leaving without a wink to both of you.
It’s awkward, and suddenly the floor looks more interesting.
But alas, you swallow your pride and look at her, “I really-uh- like your piercings, by the way.”
“Thanks.”
“Did you dye your own hair? Or… yeah, okay… never mind.” You mumbled off, looking at your hands, mentally cursing yourself. What else could you say? Would she even listen?
“I think a pink strip would look nice on you,” Kirara mumbled, snapping your head up, surprised she even answered. “Your hair, that is, you have pretty hair.”
Definitely a start.
“Yeah? I don’t think it would be as good as yours. What dye do you use?” Kirara doesn’t notice, but you’re definitely flirting with her.
After that night, she started to open up more, small talk, compliments here and there.
“Your ‘Kin-Chan’ is a very lucky man, yknow.” You state, one night, as Kirara decided to patch you up one night, “I know he is.” She shoots back, a small smile on her face. “You’re very beautiful, Kirara. I seriously mean it when he’s a lucky man.”
Her body freezes, and suddenly she forgets how to clean up a cut, “Oh, well, thank you. In a way, he’s lucky to have you as a fighter, yknow.” Kirara responded, moving to dab that nasty cut across your nose, “You think so, Kirara?” “I know so.”
“All done.” She whispers, backing away from you, buzzing from the fluorescent lights was the only sound, and both of you are quiet. You wanna say something so bad, get closer to her, talk to her more, and before she opens the bathroom door, you’re jumping off from the counter, grabbing your wrist, “You’re the most gorgeous person I think I’ve seen, like ever. Fuck, it makes me angry that Hakari gets you all to yourself and mmf-”
She’s kissing you.
And you really don’t care about Hakari; in fact, you’re sure he sent her down here, and you’re lucky he did. (And so will he, later on.)
She’s pulling back before you can even kiss her back. “You think I’m gorgeous?” Kirara quite literally giggles, and you’re nodding your head, “Fuck, yes, I do, who wouldn’t?”
This time, you do get to kiss her back, hands grabbing at her waist, finally making up for all the times Hakari did just that. Biting her bottom lip, for more access, and she gives you just that, moaning as you suck on her tongue, it’s like she’s luring out every moan and whimper in your body, and you feel like you’re in heaven.
You pull back this time, both breathing hard, hands on each other, “I think you’re pretty too, y/n.”
Hakari isn’t dumb; he sent his girl down there for a reason, and he’s not dumb when he sees Kirara with a dazed expression and now glossy lips.
“Have fun?” He asked, taking Kirara under his shoulder, “Told you, she was nice.”
Kirara is swatting his hand off her shoulder.
Friday nights are your favorite, not just because you’re fighting, but because now you’re on that couch with both of them, sitting beside Kirara, as she cuddles in on your side, “You did so well! Kin-Chan and me could see the fever within you.” She laughs, fingers going up and down your side, “I think it’s hot when you’re amped up, n/n.”
Hakari's lips tug at a smile, before he slides you and Kirara to him, you now in the middle of the two. “I think it’s hot too, y/n, seeing the passionate drip off you while you fight.”
All you can do is hum, skin heating up, brain overloading from their compliments, “Oh! I almost forgot!” Kirara shoots up, grabbing a bag from the corner, shoving it into your lap, “You asked what hair dye I use, that’s it.” As you’re opening the bag, seeing the materials you need, and it's pink hair dye.
Hakari was wondering what the bleach and pink dye were for, and now it made sense.
‘You dying your strip pink?” He asked, as Kirara bent down to choose a bubblegum pink, ‘I’m not.’ ‘Then what for?’
“I’ll dye it, if you want, I do still think pink would suit you.” Kirara smiles, going back to your side like she didn’t just make your entire week. “Come over tomorrow, it’s a reset day anyway.” Hakari smiles, feeling like his heart may actually jump out of his chest and ruin his whole tough guy act.
And yet you can’t help but think you may not be ever leaving their side, especially when weeks later, Hakari pulls you aside, “You make Kirara a happy girl, hope you know you’re not leaving us now.”
a/n: i had too much fun writing this i fear…. i love me some kirara hoshi… oh and hakari ig…. 😛
I do not own anything, do not copy or feed my works to A.I
synopsis ✿ hakari is bad at answering your texts, so you decide to send his phone's notifications something better: fraud alerts as you max out all his credit cards
✿ BEFORE YOU READ ── female reader ; established relationship ; reader is a lil bit bratty ok but he likes it ; financially irresponsible reader LOL ; reader calls him kin-chan ; oral (fem receiving) ; edging ; unprotected vaginal sex ; creampie ; not proof read pls forgive typos and errors ok say u still love me :,)
꒰ word count ꒱ 4.1k words — ur telling me my first fic of 2026 is hakari smut . bro ur fucking lying to me HELP
꒰ commentary ꒱ yeah . so . i wanna be that ex that maxed out his cards SOBS. though i do not fancy being an ex so i think we will stay together thanks
It started out as a petty fight.
You hiss, you never answer my texts, Kinji!—and Hakari hisses back, don’t text me so many times when I’m busy, then!
And you decide he deserves it after that. He does. He never wants to check his stupid phone that’s in his stupid hand most of the time, so you give him a reason to check his fucking phone. You give him a reason to pay attention to the notifications that pop up on his screen, one after the other, because he deserves it. He does.
He deserves it when you charge his card. Once. Twice. Ten times. Even more.
If he won’t answer texts, you think, he’ll surely answer transaction alerts.
You start small at first—an overpriced jacket you don’t need (not when you always wear his, anyway). Then a pair of shoes. Then you decide your living room could use some remodeling, too—that couch could use a replacement. You get a sick thrill in it, imagining his screen lighting up with a message as you make one large, concerning purchase after another.
FRAUD ALERT.
A charge was made to your VISA credit card ending in 3467
Reply YES to confirm or NO to report fraud
You picture his eyebrow twitching. It makes you grin smugly at the idea. By the time you’re done, you’ve hit all three cards—and he seems to have let you, too. Not a single purchase gets canceled as a fraudulent transaction. You hit the limit on the third and hum in satisfaction to yourself.
Your phone buzzes immediately.
Kinji ♡:
What the hell are you doing?
You stare at the message. Let it sit. Let him feel ignored the same way he ignored you. Your phone buzzes again.
Kinji ♡:
Did you just max three cards in twenty minutes?
You ignore him yet again. And then, he actually calls you—and you stare at his contact photo with petty resolve as you let it ring until the call is missed. He doesn’t let that stop him, though, and sends another message.
Kinji ♡:
Pick up my call woman
He calls again, and you don’t listen to his demand. The call rings out again before you type back: Wow. So you do know how to look at your phone huh?
The typing bubble appears instantly.
Kinji ♡:
Don’t start
You scoff as you start anyway. Your thumbs type furiously before sending: I wouldn’t start anything if you didn’t fucking ignore me.
There’s a pause this time. A long one. You imagine him running a hand over his face in irritation, jaw tight, eyes sharp in that way they get when he’s trying not to snap. He’s good about not snapping at you, for as moody as he tends to be. He’s good about keeping himself patient when it’s you. Usually.
But your phone rings. You decline it. It rings again. Decline. Rings one more time. Decline. You can practically see the steam coming out of his ears, and you’re almost giddy by the image in your head.
He calls yet again—this time, it’s a FaceTime. You answer at the last second just to be petty.
“What,” you say flatly as soon as his face pops up onto the screen.
“What,” he echoes, incredulous. “That’s it? S’all you got’ta say? Are you out of your mind?”
“You said don’t text you so many times,” you shrug. “So I found another way.”
His eyes narrow. “So you maxed out my cards?”
“You weren’t answering.”
“Was this s’posed to make me answer?”
“It made you call me, didn’t it?” you grin cheekily, giving him an annoyingly victorious look.
His mouth opens. Closes. His gaze flickers, eyes narrowing at you. Annoyed—he’s thoroughly annoyed. Still, underneath it, something else. Something warmer. Something that looks…dare you say, a little too much like amusement.
“You think this shit is funny?” he asks.
“I think you finally responded. Just like I wanted.”
There’s a beat of silence. He’s studying you with a look that makes you shiver slightly, even if he’s only looking through a screen. Then he leans forward, closer to the camera. His voice drops.
“You need my attention that bad, huh?”
Your stomach flips despite yourself. “Don’t flatter yourself. I don’t need your attention—you’re supposed to answer me when I talk to you. That’s the principle of things.”
“Yeah? So makin’ stupid purchases is the principle of shit, too? S’that it?”
“Yeah,” you say stubbornly, “it is, actually.”
He studies you. Over it—he’s so over you and your petty drama and the schemes you always seem to have pulled out of nowhere to give him a migraine. He’s over it. But he’s also not—because then he gives you a sharp snort. “You’re lucky I can afford your fuckin’ nonsense.”
“I know,” you snap in return. “That’s why I used your cards.”
For a second, you think he’s going to yell when his face twists in surprise at your audacity. But then, instead, he laughs. It’s loud, obnoxious. A cackle more than a laugh, and your eyes narrow at the fact that he is not taking you as seriously as he should. Not when you could do some serious damage to his credit score.
“Unbelievable,” he mutters. “You’re a damn, spoiled brat. I ought’ta teach you some appreciation for hard-earned money.”
“You hardly earn anything,” you shoot back. “You gamble it. Like everything else—one of these days you’re not going to gamble wisely how long I’ll put up with your shit.”
That wipes the grin from his face. The line goes quiet.
“Don’t antagonize me, woman.”
“I can’t antagonize you when you’re ignoring me,” you reply smartly. He doesn’t seem to like that.
“I’m not ignoring you,” he counters, “I’m out here makin’ money that you just tossed down the drain like a damn brat.”
“You’ll make it back.”
His eyes flash. “That’s not the point.”
“Then what is?”
“The point,” he says, rolling his eyes, “is that you’re fucking spoiled.”
You shrug. Yeah, you’re a bit spoiled. You are. So what? He makes you spoiled. He gives you his cards, and he lets you spend on them as you like, and he pays good attention to you when you’re there. You’re spoiled because what else would you be? He makes you this way, and then he complains like it’s your fault.
But it’s not. And you make sure to tell him.
“That’s on you,” you say flatly. “Not on me.”
And that, as you expected, is his final straw. “Stay there,” he hisses.
“What?” you flutter your lashes innocently, “what’s that mean?”
“It means. Stay. There.”
And then he hangs up, and you lean back in your bed with a ghost of a smug smile on your face.
Twenty minutes later, your door is swung open, and an agitated Hakari is walking into your shared room with a look on his face that has you clenching your thighs together. He’s not happy. Unhappy Hakari means he’ll fuck you right—fuck you hard and good and proper until he’s no longer unhappy.
“You need’ta learn to be patient,” he grits.
“You need to learn to answer your texts.”
He clicks his teeth in irritation. You always talk back—way more than you should. Way more than you used to before you learned he lets you get away with pushing his buttons like that.
“Next time,” he says, crowding into your space as he leans down to hover over you, “if you want my attention—” his hand hooks around your waist, pulling you flush against him, “—you ask. Nicely. With manners.”
Your heart is pounding too loudly. Too filled with anticipation. There’s a distinct ache between your legs, and you’d be a little embarrassed if you weren’t so excited by it.
“You didn’t answer when I asked,” you huff.
His thumb tilts your chin up. His gaze is piercing as he scoffs at your stubbornness. “So then you be patient. But it’s okay,” he adds, eyes glinting again, “you’re paying me back.”
Your jaw drops. “Excuse me?”
“In installments,” he says smoothly, giving you a hungry grin. “Starting now.”
And then he kisses you. Hard.
It’s a rough kiss. It’s all teeth and tongue, and relentless in that way that steals the air straight from your lungs. You hardly have a moment to take a breath in between, and he doesn’t pause to let you have one, either. But your body wants him even if your lungs protest—your hands fist into his jacket automatically, pulling him closer like you’ve been waiting for this exact moment since he pissed you off to start with.
He makes a low sound against your mouth—satisfied. Hakari is satisfied when you melt into his touch. He’s satisfied when you can’t help but let whatever snarky sentence it is you’re about to say die off in your throat as he keeps that mouth of yours occupied.
“Installment one,” he murmurs against your lips, pulling away.
“You’re insufferable,” you breathe.
He slides a hand under your shirt, thoroughly pleased to find no bra there to serve as an obstacle in his wandering palm’s path. His hand squeezes around a tit, and you gasp against his lips as his thumb teases over your nipple.
“Installment two,” he gives you a cocky look. “Installment three is a little pricier, you know.”
“I can afford anything,” you shrug easily.
He raises a brow. “Yeah? Is that why you use my card?”
“That’s exactly why I can afford anything,” you grin, and it’s a cheeky little thing that you flash him.
He gives you an irritated look at that—there’s no real heat behind it, though. You know you’re right. Hakari can afford it. That’s why he gave you his cards in the first place. But you like that look on his face when you talk a little too much and sound a little too smart for your own good.
He doesn’t say anything else. Just moves to hover between your legs as he slowly pulls your sweats and your panties off in one swift movement. You’re already dripping—that much gives him a bubbling sense of pride. It makes him scoff to himself a little, too. You’d go through any lengths just to get a little attention from him, wouldn’t you? he thinks to himself. And he likes it, a little. Likes that you need him and want him so passionately, so fervently. So desperately.
“I’m taking my payment now,” he mumbles, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your thighs. He grins as you shiver. Feels himself hardening between his own legs when you try to spread your legs wider and make more room for him in anticipation.
“Your payment is to reward me?” you ask, giving him an amused look.
He snorts, giving you a look in return that’s even more thoroughly entertained. “You keep hoping, baby.”
With that, he’s buried in your cunt. His nose bumps your clit as his tongue licks a stripe along your entrance, and you gasp at the sensation. He dips his tongue past your folds, groaning at the taste of you, and the vibrations against your heat make your eyes flutter shut as you whine. You grind yourself down into him more, trying to feel the pressure against your clit and feel him press deeper past your folds, but his large hands keep a firm grip on your waist, holding you in place.
“K-kin,” you moan, “s’not enough—”
“This is my payment, not yours,” he grunts, “keep quiet.”
That shuts you up because, well, you know, brattiness will do you no favors right now. You display a rare moment of restraint, and he takes what he wants with his tongue, tasting you slowly, deliberately. Maybe even a little cruelly, with how achingly long it takes for him to give you what you need.
“Please,” you gasp, voice shaky, “p-please, Kin.”
“Say you’re sorry, then,” he says.
You lift your head up and stare at him in disbelief. Sorry? He wants you to say sorry for being ignored? After he caused this petty argument and your petty show of defiance? You press your lips together in a firm line before letting out a huff that tells him all he needs to know.
You’re not apologizing. And he doesn’t seem to be bothered. If anything, he seems excited—his pupils dilate as he watches your stubborn behavior.
Maybe because you’re so stubborn is why Hakari likes you so much. Maybe because you’re firm and resolute and…passionate about what you want and how you’ll get it is why he’s so enamored by you. You don’t stop. Never know when to quit. Never know when a limit is a limit and when a boundary is a boundary. All you know is when to cross them. When to push them. When to be in a fever-induced state of your desires, and you don’t break the fever until they’re yours.
“Not gonna say it, huh?” he mumbles, “okay. Suit yourself, brat.”
Then his fingers sink into you—and your arch your back at the intrusion with a soft cry. His fingers are thick. Thicker than yours and longer, too—that’s why you always need him so badly. He can give you better attention than you can give yourself. He likes the idea of that, even if it does tend to make you even more demanding of his time.
His tongue moves to lap at your clit, dragging back and forth along the sensitive bundle of nerves as his fingers work in and out of you, stretching you open and coating his digits in your arousal. Your head falls back against the pillow, and you let out a sharp cry of pleasure when his fingertips brush along your sweet spot.
He knows you. Knows your body. Spent a good, long amount of love-filled labor to learn it so well. Burned himself hot and bothered getting to know it better than he knows himself. He paints quick circles along your clit with his tongue while his fingers work slow and deep into your folds, every thrust of his wrist taking its sweet time to fill you with the pressure of his touch.
“M’close, Kin,” you breathe after a bit, voice strained as it comes alongside labored pants.
He raises a brow. “Yeah? Is that right?”
“Uh-huh,” you nod.
Sweet little thing you are. You look so pretty and fucked out just from this—he takes a moment to stare at it a little longer before he pulls away completely.
Your body jerks at the sudden stop, and your head lifts as you stare at him in pure disbelief. It aches—right between your legs, at the apex of your thighs, there’s a sharp, uncomfortable pressure that makes itself painfully noticeable. You can feel the deliberate throb of dissatisfaction he leaves you with, and you’re not happy.
“Hey!” you hiss, “I was…I was gonna—”
“Cum?” he interrupts, “is that it? You thought I was gonna let that happen so easily? No, baby—you gotta work for it. So you know it ain’t easy earning your payments.”
You’re about to argue, but he’s already stripping out of his own clothes, and that gets you relaxed instantly. He’s going to take you now—which means he’ll fuck you good. Fuck you right. You have enough reason to let his act of cruelty slide when you can look forward to that. His shirt comes off, and you can now stare at the hard planes of muscle along tanned skin, and if that view isn’t enough, the sight of his stiff, leaking cock is when he’s kicking off his boxers.
He smears the pre cum dripping from his tip before his fist wraps around himself and he strokes once, twice, then a third time, and he groans low and deep at that. His eyes pinch shut, and his teeth press into his bottom lip as he curses under his breath before pulling away from his length. Instead, he takes to hovering over you, giving you an expectant look as he lines himself up with your pussy, but doesn’t quite give it to you, just yet.
“Say you’re sorry,” he hums, tip nudging just past your folds, but not quite pressing into you just yet. You give him a defiant glare, but he only grins, “C’mon, baby. You know how to use your words—I taught you that much, at least.”
“M’not sorry for anything,” you huff.
“Hm,” he chuckles, “that’s a shame.”
The thick head of his cock pulls out, tapping against your clit. It’s coated in you. Coated in a mix of your slick and the pre cum that spills from his slit—it’s filthy. Messy. You’re fucking aching to feel him fill you up and make things even messier.
But Hakari is taking his sweet time. He has enough restraint for now that you’re positive you won’t get what you want until he makes a lesson out of this. A lesson you are unwilling to learn so easily.
“Stop fucking teasing me, you asshole,” you hiss, angling your hips to try and press into him. He pulls away, chuckling as he gives you a cocky, amused look.
“You have’ta say you’re sorry, baby,” he insists, “that’s the only way you’re gettin’ what you want. I can’t have you spoiled more than you already are—I’d be making more trouble for myself.”
You glare, and he seems to relish the feeling of pulling that look from you. The tip of his cock presses back into your folds, making you gasp as you buck into him desperately. He’s fast, though. Pulls his hips back just enough to make up for the little bit of distance you managed to bridge between the two of you as you attempt to sink down on him. He’s pulled away enough that he’s still just barely pressed into your cunt, just the tip teasing your entrance while he grabs your hips and keeps you still.
“Kin,” you whine, “s’not fair!”
“Course it is, baby,” he snorts, “you did some serious damage to my bank. Got all the shit you wanted. You think I’m giving you what you want again?”
“You should,” you huff, “I deserve it.”
“You will once you say you’re sorry,” he corrects. “Now say you’re sorry like a good girl—you know you like being good for me.”
That much is very true. He’s right. You love being his good girl—the one who gets to slide next to him on the couch when he’s drinking at some shady club, the one who gets to curl up on his lap when he’s in a crappy mood, the one who gets to feel his rough hands turn oddly gentle when you need him close.
You like being his good girl. His girl. You like being his.
You huff through a pout as you ask, “I can still keep all my things, right?”
He rolls his eyes at your question. But you’re spoiled by his own doing, after all, and Hakari has a habit of giving to you just as often as you take. So, he grunts, “Course you can.”
You beam. His eyes soften just a fraction. “Fine,” you murmur, “I’m sorry, Kin-chan.”
Kin-chan.
His pupils all but dilate when you call him that. They always do—it’s cute, you think. Cute that he cares what you call him. Cute that you mean enough to him that he wants it to be something laced with familiarity.
“Yeah?” he murmurs, leaning down as his hands move to grab yours. They lace with your fingers before he lifts them to pin each hand over your head. “You’re sorry, huh?”
“Mhm,” you nod, gasping as his cock pushes into you deeper, slowly, inch by inch. “Yeah, I am.”
“Sorry for what, hm?”
He’s halfway pressed into you. He’s taking his sweet time. Pushing the thickness of his length little by little so you can really feel him stretch you out. Carve you to fit him. Mold you so only he can sink into your cunt and take you this way.
“S-sorry that I—hah—used your money,” your voice shakes as the last of him sinks in with a deep thrust of his hips. He hums at the sound of your words, lips hot and searing against your jaw as he presses kisses along the angle of it.
You shiver as you feel the vibrations of his voice along your skin, hands squeezing his as he murmurs, “No, you’re not,” he snorts, “but that’s okay, baby—you know I like it when you push my buttons.”
You do. When you push Kin-chan’s buttons, Kin-chan fucks you like he means it. When you give Kin-chan a reason to give it to you hard, he fucks you with passion. Burns hot with it as he snaps his hips into you and pulls you closer, pulls you flush against him. When you act spoiled rotten with Kin-chan, that’s when Kin-chan knows he’s loved you good. Loved you hard. Loved you hot with fever.
“And I like it when you fuck me,” you whine, “so maybe you should get on tha—oh.” You break off with a soft moan.
“You’re always so fuckin’ spoiled,” he grunts as he makes you cut yourself off with that sharp, unpunishing thrust of his hips. You know what that means. He’s had enough of waiting.
He pulls his hips back so that his cock has almost slipped out completely before slamming into you again. You gasp, arching into him. You can feel the sweet reward of friction—every ridge and every vein dragging along your slick walls before the blunt head of his cock presses against a particular spot in the back that makes your eyes see white.
You are spoiled. Because Kin-chan turned you spoiled. And a spoiled you makes Kin-chan excited, try as he might to act like it doesn’t. It’s just the way things happen. How you both just are. How that cycle always tends to just go.
You burn hottest when you want something, and he burns hottest when he gets to give it to you.
“Don’t you love me when I’m spoiled?” You give him a pouty look. It doesn’t last too long, though, because he rolls his hips and your face scrunches with pleasure.
He gives you a throaty laugh, his hand grabbing the ankle hooked on his shoulder before he turns his head and gives your calf a soft kiss. “You know I do, you crazy fucking thing,” he mumbles. You clench around him at that, and he laughs again. “You know I love you.”
“Then don’t ignore me,” you warn.
“Yeah, whatever,” he rolls his eyes.
He leans forward, all but bending you in half as he snaps his hips faster, bullying past your folds with a sloppier pace as he starts to get closer and closer to his own high. His lips find yours, pulling you into a hot, breathy kiss. Your hands wrap around him, clinging to him as your nails dig into his skin. He likes that. Gives you a low grunt of approval as the sting makes itself known.
“C-close,” you whimper, “m’so close—fuck!”
“That’s it,” he hums in satisfaction, “cum for me, then.”
A few more punctuated thrusts of his hips and you do. You feel that familiar coil in the pit of your belly snap, and that build-up of pressure break free between your legs. He works you through it—makes sure to drag his cock along your sensitive walls hard and fast as they flutter around him and squeeze him in.
“Kin!” you gasp through the height of your pleasure. Your ears are ringing, but you can just barely make out the satisfied sound he makes when you say his name, so you slur it a few more times just for him.
He groans as you squeeze around him with every spasm of your walls, muttering, “S’so fuckin’ tight,” under his breath before he’s claiming your mouth again, kissing you so you can swallow his own sounds as he follows right after you.
You feel him twitch before he’s filling you up—hot, thick ropes of his seed pumping into you while he stills for a moment and shivers. When you’ve both come down from your highs, he slumps down beside you on the bed, pulling you against his chest, where you happily curl up.
“Learn your lesson?” he grumbles. He follows it with a delicate kiss to your forehead because, of course, he does.
“Yup,” you hum happily.
“And what’d you learn?”
“Kin-chan loves me so much, he’ll let me buy whatever I want and fuck me for it,” you smile. Still so cheeky. Still so smug.
It burns him with excitement just looking at that defiant little spark in your eyes. “Yeah?” he laughs, “well alright, then. Guess I just have to teach you a little harder.”
