ʚ pairing ɞ scumbag villain!izuku midoriya x morally corrupt hero!reader
ʚ word count ɞ 2.7k
ʚ summary ɞ izuku grew up with all power taken from him, so he became the type of person that enjoys making others feel powerless. nothing feeds his ego more than a cute girl crumbling under his touch and feeling powerless to stop him from sliding his hands all over her body in the packed train. until he meets you—a peculiar, equally fucked in the head girl that actually enjoyed the things he was doing to her. enjoyed the thrill of almost being caught. enjoyed having power taken from her. a debauched, morally corrupt hero in disguise.
ʚ tags ɞ frotteurism (fetish for groping people in crowded places), tw dubcon, tw noncon, tw sexual assault, tw sexual harassment, tw exhibitionism, tw power imbalance, pussy job, public sex, creampie, cw degradation, use of “whore” once
Just like any other child, Izuku Midoriya grew up wanting to be a hero, however, despite his aspirations, the boy never manifested a quirk. Still, he never gave up and never lost hope—that is, until he failed the UA entrance exam and was brutally made fun of by everyone else.
“Look at this loser, thinking he could pass the exam without an actual quirk, what a joke.”
“Jokes are funny, this guy is absolutely pathetic. Go home kid, become a policeman or fireman instead, leave the hero work for those with quirks.”
“Maybe if you take a swan dive off a roof, you’ll be born with a quirk in your next life.”
Some heroes they were going to be.
And that was when his mind started getting corrupt. Izuku went down a different, darker path than the one he had envisioned as a child. He mixed with the wrong people and little by little he shed off his hero dream, discarding it alongside his morals, being perfectly content being a scumbag villain instead.
All power was stripped away from him once the world learned he was quirkless, so he sought ways to make others feel even more powerless than he did. Nothing stroked his ego more than making cute girls squirm and crumble under his touch in paralyzing fear, as his hands wandered over their bodies on a packed train. He enjoyed the way their eyes would shut tightly as if to avoid confronting the reality of their own powerlessness in the situation. The way their bodies stiffened the moment he leaned in closer to take a whiff of their perfume.
Why aren’t you saying anything, pretty girl? You have a quirk, don’t you? That already makes you more qualified than me to be a hero. So why are you letting me touch you? Why are you keeping your eyes shut? Why are you giving me so much power?
Every little squirm, every hitch of their breath, every shake of their hands, and the way they would hope somebody would notice—it made Izuku feel powerful.
Do you know why you’re weaker than even me, sweetheart? Because you’re waiting for someone else to save you, you’re waiting for a hero.
That’s how his days went by—hop on the train, find the weakest target, the insecure girls, the quiet ones, the ones whose eyes still sparkled with hope that a big strong hero will always be there to protect them. Once he found his victim, he moved in, ready to prove them wrong—show them how little heroes actually care. Towering over them, he would stare down their cleavage, letting his imagination run wild as his hands slide up the side of their hip. An accidental grind against their ass, a swift trace of his index finger down the inside of their thigh. His ministrations would make his targets shrink even further, the thrill of being found out feeding his power hunger further and making his cock painfully hard in the confinement of his slacks.
It became routine until he was able to pick out the perfect targets with a single glance, until he was able to predict what each girl would do and how everything would play out. What he wasn’t expecting, however, was to find someone equally as debauched as him one day.
With your car being in the repair shop for the next week, you had started using public transport to get to work. That of course meant having to travel during peak hours, more often than not finding yourself pressed against strangers, sometimes absolute creeps, and yet some very dark and hidden part of you enjoyed that, the unwanted attention making you buzz with excitement.
And today was no different—you found yourself pushed in the very corner of the train car facing away from the other passengers. A large green-haired man stood right behind you, muscular arm holding onto the ceiling rail as his entire body loomed over your much smaller one.
The train was fully packed and everyone was minding their business— some sleeping, some listening to music, and others glued to their phones. Yet, the man behind you seemed to focus all his attention on you. You could feel his gaze travel down your nape, studying the curvature of your spine, eyes moving downwards to your ass and legs. It felt like prickles on your skin, like an invisible hand stripping you of all your clothes and the thought made you rub your thighs together.
The lack of space forced you both to stand very close to each other, the motions of the train pushing you into his chest every so often. You could tell he was using every opportunity to smell your hair, craning his neck downwards to also look down your shirt. You wonder if he could see what color your bra was, if he could see the lace poking out from under the collar of your shirt.
The train changed tracks again and you found yourself pressed against his chest once more. This time his large hand found purchase on your hip, thumb gently stroking the bit of skin that was showing above the hem of your skirt. In the reflection of the window, you see his green eyes staring into yours, full of lust and hunger. His aura threatening to consume you entirely and for a second, your body filling with fear, a heavy feeling settling in your chest.
You look away, quickly.
Your heart is hammering in your chest and you fear he can hear it, taste the blood that’s currently coursing through your veins.
The train shifts and you can feel his hard cock pressed against your ass, his fingers on your hip tightening their grip. Your body feels paralyzed under his touch.
But not by fear.
Excitement.
You let your body be swayed by the motion of the train, making sure to circle your ass back onto his cock, licking your lips and buzzing with pleasure when your skirt hitches on his bulge, lifting and revealing part of your panties. You take a swift look around to see if anyone is looking your way, but as usual, everyone is consumed in their own thoughts, too absorbed by their own miserable existence to notice anything else.
You’re dragged out of your momentary haze by his breath on your neck.
“What do you think you’re doing there, sweetheart, has your mommy not taught you any better?”
His voice is deep, feigning concern for you while his eyes ooze vile lust and need for control. His presence devours you, it feels like sludge covering you from head to toe, sliding down your throat and filling your lungs with dread, making you unable to talk, unable to even look him in the eye.
His hands move down your hips, hiking your skirt up even further, fingers tracing the delicate lace of your underwear. Your clit is throbbing with anticipation so perfectly masked as fear. For Izuku, your heightened pulse meant paralyzing fear, but only you knew the truth about how this made your blood boil in excitement. How much you wanted him to slide his hands between your legs, to fucking take you right then and there, amidst the people that could see the pleasure blooming on your face any second now.
You faintly hear the unzipping of his slacks and feel the warmth of his cock on your bare skin—it’s thick and heavy against your ass cheek, smearing pre on your skin and panties. You’re feeling dizzy, body going limp in his strong arms as his hand sneaks around your waist and cups your pussy under the frills of your skirt.
For a brief moment, his movements pause as his mind processes what he’s feeling—you’re soaking wet, panties completely drenched, arousal practically dripping down your thighs. He was used to women’s bodies reluctantly reacting to him, but this was rather different. His eyes dart forward, inspecting your features more closely now—your heart was erratic, but not because of crippling fear. He leans in, noticing how blown your pupils are, consuming all the color in your eyes. Lips parted and chest heaving, he finally finds the piece of the puzzle that seemed to be missing, the explanation behind the odd feeling of being unable to predict what his prey will do next—your eyes had the same fragmented madness behind them.
You were just as sick as he was.
Without a second of hesitation, the hand that’s cupping your sex moves your panties to the side, thick and calloused fingers running through your wet folds, spreading your arousal and circling around your clit with tender motions.
A whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it—your skin is on fire and your insides are melting under this stranger's touch. You close your eyes in an attempt to compose yourself while the hand on your hip travels up your sides to squeeze your breast, teasing your nipples over the fabric. The green-haired man’s breath is almost as erratic as yours, his hard and leaking cock evidence of how turned on he was by your compliance, by the fact you were actually enjoying being used like this in public.
His cock now rubs between your thighs, his hot skin meeting your sticky one, and your insides beginning to knot just by the thought. You’re letting a complete stranger get off on you. You secretly hope that someone else on the train has noticed and is maybe even enjoying the show.
Your insides are aching for relief so you push yourself against his cock, the mushroom tip spreading and gliding between your folds, clit rubbing against the veins on his shaft.
Holding yourself with one hand by the ceiling rail and slightly lifting yourself onto your tiptoes, feeling the tip of his cock pushing against your entrance. Biting your lip you sink back onto his cock, taking two inches past your entrance, grazing your soft walls. The adrenaline coursing through your veins makes you experience every sensation trifold, makes you want to shamelessly grind against him and moan in ecstasy, but you are in public, therefore you compose yourself and relish in the slow feeling of being filled up by this man.
Izuku’s hand grips your waist harder, fucking himself into your tight, greedy cunt, feeling himself being sucked in by your plush walls. You are practically dripping onto his cock, the natural lubrication allowing him to smoothly fully sheathe himself inside you, putting his other hand over your mouth to prevent to moan that was about to escape your lips.
He holds you there, flush against him, the tip of his cock pressing against the deepest, most delicious spot inside you, subtle hip movements rocking you back and forth, the slow motion allowing him to massage that sweet spot he currently finds himself pressed against.
His eyes briefly scan the train cart, confirming that every passenger is still oblivious to what’s going on, continuing to push you off his thick cock, only to slide back in, softly, as though not to make a sound.
He’s big in every sense. His large frame hiding you from any onlookers, big hands easily maneuvering you onto his fat cock, splitting you open and pushing through the resistance of your tight hole. Your body jolts as he stretches you out almost painfully, but every time he thrusts inside you, you see stars in your vision from how deep he was.
You feel snug and warm around Izuku’s cock and he could stay buried inside you forever. He’s never met anyone this fucked up who would let him use them for his own pleasure. In a fully packed train nonetheless. You were sick and twisted just like Izuku, making him relish in the feeling, sensing that you’re not going to cause a scene and opting to let go of your waist in favor of sliding his hand down the front of your pelvis and playing with your puffy clit.
The moment he started drawing soft circles around your sensitive nub he felt your knees give in and your insides clench. God, you were going to come undone for him.
He watches your eyebrows pinch together as you bite your lip, slowly increasing the pace of his thrusts. You look so pretty, trying to keep your pleasure hidden, but shamelessly moving your hips to match his own.
For the first time during this train ride, you look into his eyes and maintain eye contact instead of shyly breaking it off. There is pure sin set ablaze in your eyes, a lustful need, a burning desire that he feels he needs to quench. Just your eyes alone could make Izuku cum on the spot, seductive and debauched, deprived and full of the same madness as his own.
Your eyes beg him, so he obeys.
With one final, rather harsh thrust Izuku buries himself to the hilt, emptying his load deep inside your gummy walls, spurting thick white ropes of cum while nuzzling his face in your neck—committing your scent to memory.
The train slows down as it approaches the next stop and the strange man gently pulls out. Your hands quickly fix your panties and skirt, hiding any evidence of his ministrations. His load slowly trickles down, soiling your panties, and yet the feeling brings you nothing but joy, as if you were currently on cloud nine.
The train comes to a halt, an alarm signaling the opening of the doors blares out.
The mass of people began leaving the train, the tall green-haired man seamlessly blending into the crowd and disappearing.
Avoiding eye contact and swiftly walking past clusters of people, Izuku was assured he was out of danger, turning around the corne—
“Where do you think you’re going, handsome?” You cut off his path and look into his eyes, a smile that didn’t reach your eyes plastered on your lips. “I’m not quite done with you yet.”
“Aw, I don’t think anyone’s ever come for seconds before.” Izuku places his hands in his pockets, giving you a smug smile and shamelessly tracing every curve of your body with his eyes, imagining what you look like without all those pesky clothes on.
“Aw, you know, you’re kinda cute, Izuku Midoriya,” The green-haired man's smile faltered. From the inside pocket of your jacket you pull out a card that he immediately recognizes. A card he was destined to never ever obtain. “Too bad I’m gonna have to arrest you.”
Before his mind could assimilate, you had easily pushed him against the wall with his hands behind his back, placing handcuffs on his wrists.
“Y-You can’t arrest me, you whore, you literally let me fuck you, what kind of hero are you?” He spits out in shock, words laced with venom, growling in attempting to shake you off, even though panic rises in his throat like bile. “You’re no fucking hero, you’re just like me.”
“Mm, I probably am… but see, I have a quirk so I can get away with being a morally corrupt hero.” The words spoken in a sickly sweet voice rang in his ears, deafening, despite being whispered, meant only for his ears to hear.
Izuku opens his mouth to argue, to threaten to expose you, but you shush him with an index finger over his lips.
“Don’t bother, who do you think they are going to believe? A pro-hero with a quirk and a squeaky clean record, or a quirkless scumbag that we have hundreds of reports on for sexual harassment and assault?”
With no affection or remorse you yank him by the hair and lick the shell of his ear.
“I had fun, Izuku. Find me when you get out of jail.” You place a final feather light kiss to his cheek and lead him through the crowds to bring him into the nearest precinct.
No man would ever make you feel as alive and exhilarated as he did, the memory of what you did being something you often revisit when you get yourself off late into the night after patrol, thinking of his villainous green eyes, while your words would haunt Izuku and play on a loop each night as he plotted ways to find you once he had served his time.
𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑! I do not own any of the characters or people mentioned in my work. these are works of pure fiction that do not reflect the views, opinions, or actions of any person, real or fictional. Furthermore, all characters I write for [thirsts, drabbles, fics, etc.] are aged up to 21 or older – they are adults with adult characteristics presented and written in adult contexts.
ʚ summary ɞ having a step brother isn’t easy, especially if he is as fun and good looking as yours. you always got along just fine, but some very depraved and dark corner of your mind always forced you to look at him different, to imagine things that were taboo—to touch yourself while thinking of him. so when you had to crash at his place for a couple of days while your apartment was being fumigated, things escalated rather fast. i mean, it’s fine if it doesn’t go in, right?
Most people say that having a parent remarry and having step-siblings is awful. You, however, don't see it that way.
Despite the devastation of losing your mother at a young age, you were grateful to your father for stepping up and taking care of you with everything he had after your mother's passing. You were 4 at the time, and things didn’t quite make sense until you got older—but with time, the more you matured, the more you came to terms with the situation. The older you got, the better you understood how much of a super dad you actually had—on the one hand, he always prioritized you, gave you everything he could and made sure that you didn’t miss out on anything, partially spoiling his little girl. On the other hand, he also chose to be very honest with you and talk to you about difficult topics instead of shying away from them. Therefore, you were able to understand what happened to your mother and were fully supported while working through the grief.
For all this, you were truly grateful to your dad, though, there came a time where you became aware of all the sacrifices that he had made for your sake as well. Turns out, that he avoided dating anyone else for the longest of times, resulting in you having to actually push him into pursuing romance and give him your slightly aggressive blessing.
"Dad, it's just a date." You roll your eyes at him.
"It feels like I'm betraying your mother, our family."
"Dad," you hold his gaze firmly. "Mom is gone. I'm in high school. And you deserve to be happy! Get out there, have some fun!" You push him forcefully out the front door and fix the collar of his shirt. "Don't be home too late, I’ll leave you some lasagna in the fridge. Now go!"
And when he found someone that made him happy, someone that made his worries go away, you were nothing but supportive. She was gorgeous and smart and had witty remarks that made you laugh, so you accepted her into your life. However, she also had a son, the same age as you—a tall and lanky boy named Denki Kaminari.
The first time you met him it was awkward, you were both 18—just about to graduate from high school, you were shy and quiet and he was just all over the place, bouncing with energy. But you found common ground, talking about games and anime, so you became friends rather quickly, progressively spending more and more time together. You’ve always been an honest person so denying that you thought he was handsome was pointless—fluffy blonde hair and amber eyes that turn gold in the sunlight, he had a very intoxicating smile, and most importantly of all—he made you laugh. But he was your dad’s girlfriend’s son, so he was—in all ways possible—off limits to you. Therefore you were content just admiring him from afar.
Sometimes, you stared a bit too much, making up scenarios in your head before bedtime, turning off all the lights before you push your panties aside, ashamed that it's him you’re thinking about.
And here you were, two years later walking your respective parents down the aisle, grinning at each other and testing out how it feels to refer to each other as brother and sister.
"Okay little sis, shall we hit the open bar, get wasted and embarrass our parents?"
"Totally, big brother," you winked at him and his face turned red at a comically fast pace.
"Okay, how about we drop the sis ‘n bro stuff? Feels weird."
"Does it now, big brother?" you bat your eyelashes at him, a seductive smile plastered on your lips. All Denki can manage is a dramatic groan in response, walking away quickly, hearing you cackle as the distance between you two grew larger.
He might be off limits, even more so now that he was your step brother, but you still enjoyed making him flustered. The perk of it was that it was extremely easy to do so—blow some air on his nape, trace a finger along his jawline and he’s ready to turn into a puddle on the floor.
And you did this within limits. Of course.
Your parents were happy that the both of you got along so well, and even happier when you both got accepted into the same college, living in the same city. Although you studied different courses, rarely seeing each other on campus, you did occasionally go to parties together, Denki making sure to get your drunk ass back home safely every time. He was kind and dependent and always had your back.
Even more so when you had discovered that your suspiciously cheap rental apartment was infested with termites, having to be fully fumigated, and you had to ask your step brother if you could crash at his place for a couple of days.
“Of course!” his voice sounded chipper over the phone. “We’re so totally having a Marvel marathon, I am not taking no for an answer, pack your shit and come over, I’ll have nachos ready in 30 minutes.”
The line went silent as he hung up and you found yourself smiling at his enthusiasm. A voice at the back of your head told you he’d be such a fine boyfriend—if he wasn’t your step brother.
Yet, you allowed yourself a few minutes of imagining what kind of dates he would take you on—arcade dates, bringing you to museums so he can narrate over the audio guide with absolute nonsense and making some lame joke about van Gogh and George Weasly and ‘hole-y’. You shake your head as if to purge the thoughts and you get on with packing your essentials for the next couple of days.
You stare at your underwear drawer and contemplate. Would it be weird if you pick the sexiest lingerie you own... just to stay at your step brother's place for a few days? Totally not.
“Self-care.” You say to yourself as you take out several lacy thongs and bralettes that match, carefully placing them in your suitcase. You just like wearing nice underwear, what’s the big deal? It’s only for you to see anyway.
Right?
Happy with the items you’ve packed, double checking if you’ve got your toothbrush and all your chargers— you take a deep breath and vacate your apartment, heading over to Denki’s.
“We should’ve just gotten an apartment together, it would’ve been so much cheaper and nicer.” Denki whined as he helped you carry your suitcase up the stairs, as his building had no elevator.
“So what I’m hearing is you want to see my pretty face every day, correct?” you smirked, noticing the barely visible butt clench he did upon hearing your words, at which you chuckled. “Honestly, you’d get sick of me in about a week so be glad we don’t live together.”
He grumbles something you can't understand under his breath and you allow him to move on from the topic.
The first night in his apartment goes well—you have dinner together and then proceed with a quiet movie night. Snuggled together under a fuzzy blanket, the light of the TV was illuminating Denki’s face, showing off his best features—playful amber eyes, devilish smile and a sharp jawline. You spent more time looking at said face and judging the softness of his blonde locks, rather than looking at whatever movie he put on for you.
The realization that you haven’t gotten laid for a few months now and that your step brother is awfully handsome makes you feel a certain way, insides knotting up and devious thoughts plaguing your mind.
Mindlessly, you place your hand on his thigh under the blanket and you feel his body immediately tense up under your touch. Kaminari tries to play it off cool, like nothing has happened, keeping his gaze fixed on the screen.
So that’s how you wanna play, hm?
Your hand travels up and down his thigh, caressing it, squeezing it every once in a while and slowly but surely going further up with each stroke. At the same time you maintain a blank façade, pretending to be fully focused on the movie.
Once your hand starts getting dangerously close to his now semi-hard cock, Denki lets out a fake cough and gets up under the pretense of getting ice cream and some new drinks. Your eyes follow his frame as he exits the room almost skittishly and the dangerous thoughts make you lick your lips in excitement.
He’d look very cute broken and torn up over experiencing sexual desire towards his little step sister.
A plan begins forming in your head.
You spend the rest of the evening making Denki’s temperature rise and his ears turn red with embarrassment—a subtle press of your tits against his arm when you cling to it, removing stray hairs from his face with a gentle hand, accidentally tracing his jawline with your finger, keeping his gaze just a tad longer than appropriate.
Meanwhile, Kaminari continues shifting uncomfortably in his seat, trying to find a pose that would allow him to hide how turned on he is, purposefully avoiding looking down your cleavage or observing how your shorts were riding up your thighs, revealing more plush skin that he wanted to sink his teeth into.
You don’t push too far though, you still had a couple of more days staying at his place, plenty of time to make your plan come to fruition. The movie comes to an end and you both decide to call it a night—you kiss his cheek and thank him again for allowing you to stay over, wishing him a good night and heading over to the guest bedroom where you were staying. His own room was right next door and you begin wondering how thin the walls really are.
Removing your clothes and kicking your panties aside, you make yourself comfortable on the bed and slide your hands down your torso, imagining how much bigger Denki’s would be, warmer than your own, eager.
Your mind conjures images of your step brother losing himself under you as you hover over his face, tongue lapping at your core like a starved man, staring up at you with those intoxicating cat-like amber eyes. Cupping your breast, a low moan escapes your lips as your other hand glides between your legs, humming with approval of how wet you are because of your step brother.
You touch yourself, rolling your nipples between your thumb and index finger, drawing circles on your clit and letting your mind relish in all the taboo things you want to do with Denki, paying less and less attention to the needy sounds bouncing off of the walls, yet hoping that they reach Denki’s ears.
And they do—in the other room Denki has his ear pressed to the wall, already fumbling with the zipper of his pants, his face so red and hot because he knows how wrong this is. You’re his little sister, not by blood, but you were family, and God, you were still incredibly gorgeous and just his type.
He had put so much effort over the years into not being a creep, not watching your ass as you walk away or blatantly staring at your tits. He had learned to be subtle, to be unnoticeable, to steal glances and satisfy himself by just imagining your lips around his cock—just that, nothing more.
But now, having you in his apartment, being surrounded by the scent of your perfume mixed with the coconut-scented shampoo you use—he was losing his mind. You’d been so much more touchy than usual this evening and your hand on his thigh made him feel dirty, so here he was now, listening in on you, knowing full well what you were doing and how incredibly wrong this was, invading your privacy and taking advantage of it, but he couldn’t help it.
Lip tucked between his teeth to keep quiet, he spits onto his palm and spreads his saliva over his cock, slowly fucking into his fist, trying to match your pace he was trying to guess from the cute whines he could hear. He imagined you spreading your pussy for him, beckoning him to take advantage of you, calling him ‘big brother’ in that seductive voice of yours that could drive him mad. Hearing you panting louder, breath uneven and needy, he allows himself to go faster, now picturing himself pushing his cock into your tight little hole, imagining his cum leaking out of you and just like that, faster than he’s ever experienced, he came in his hand shooting thick ropes of cum onto his knuckles and pillow, his heart threatening to leave his chest cavity.
The post-nut clarity hits him and Denki is plagued with shame and guilt, quickly removing his pillowcase and bedsheets and tossing them to the side, replacing the old one with new clean ones while mentally berating himself, feeling disgusted with his own actions.
He no longer hears you moaning in the other room, the sweet sound dying down and feels relieved, shoving his face into the freshly changed pillow and trying not to scream at himself. It felt like he had committed a crime, a sin of some sort, his own guilty conscience not allowing him to get much sleep, forcing Kaminari to toss and turn for the most part of the night, shaking his head as if trying to push away the thoughts of your breasts in his mouth out of his mind by force.
The next day, he seems to be the same, shoulders sagged with guilt, barely managing to look you in the eye during breakfast. Both of you had classes, so you drive to campus together and Denki, happy to have a distraction from his lewd thoughts about his own step sister.
You on the other hand keep your focus on your plan the entire day, not paying attention to a single lecture, forgetting to even eat lunch—completely consumed by your desire to have your step brother snap.
You had it all figured out—with your classes finishing earlier than Kaminari’s, you could head home before him and use the spare key he gave you to prepare for his return. You knew your brother was very curious, not a doubt in your mind that he would seek you out when he got in and you hoped that what he found would be enough to make Denki lose control.
And to no surprise, everything goes exactly according to your vision. You shower and put on some of that pretty lingerie you had brought with you, leaving the door to your room slightly cracked open, whilst entertaining yourself until the target audience for your little performance had returned home.
You’re lying on the bed—face down, ass up when you hear the front door open, the sound making you quiver with excitement, heart beating even faster as his footsteps approach, the fingers playing with your clit speeding up, your arousal dribbling down your thighs in fat droplets
The house was suspiciously quiet, leading Denki to believe you hadn’t gotten back yet. He’d kicked his shoes off to the side, tossing his bag onto the couch before heading towards his room with the intention to shed off his outside clothes and switch into something more comfortable. That didn’t end up being the case. Noticing that the door to your room was ajar, he takes a quick glance through the crack, freezing in his tracks as his sunshine eyes fixate on your drooling cunt, clenching around nothing, your arousal soaked fingers toying with your puffy folds. In this position you can’t see him, so Kaminari basks in the sight for a few moments to enjoy this, to memorize it and engrave the image of your cute cunt into his mind—trying hard to ignore the raging boner in his pants.
Kaminari gulps, feeling as if there’s a massive lump in his throat, right hand absentmindedly adjusting his now hard cock.
“Denks,” your needy voice shocks him out of his trance. “Please...”
His brain short circuits.
Time feels frozen, the noise of the outside world fading into nothing and the sound of his heartbeat ringing in his head deafeningly loud.
His name just left your mouth.
You said his name. You begged for him.
Once more, Kaminari hears his name, watching you arch your back even more, spreading your legs further and sinking down onto the bed while begging for him incoherently.
Denki sits there, motionless, watching his little step sister cumming hard, making a mess on the bed sheets while chanting his name.
For many years, his sanity and patience were tested—like a string tightly pulled back. In this single moment as he watched his step sister shake in the aftermath of her orgasm, that string finally snapped.
He opens the door, slowly at first and then in two short strides he’s behind you, pulling you up by the hair, pressing your back to his chest and breathing hard down your neck.
“You’re a fucking tease, you know that little sis?” Inhaling in your scent, the blonde holds you tight against him, tugging on your hair again to force you to look up at the ceiling—knowing he wouldn’t be able to have any self-restraint if he looked into your eyes.
“Moaning my name as you cum? You want your big brother that badly, hm?” His throbbing shaft presses against your ass, still clad in jeans, but you could feel it through the fabric.
You shut your eyes in embarrassment but don’t attempt to escape his grip, the lack of response to his question makes Denki even more impatient.
“Answer.” he growls in your ear.
“Y-Yes,” your voice comes out uneven. “I w-want my stepbrother, please.”
Your eyes stay tightly shut but your body gives your reaction away—shaking with anticipation and excitement, feeling your juices begin to slide between your folds again.
“Didn’t think you were this sick in the head, but who am I to refuse my precious little sister, huh?” You can't see his face but you can hear the sinister smile, feel how thrilled he is by the way his grip on you tightens. Suddenly, Kaminari’s pushing your head back down onto the mattress, crouching down to take a good look at your glistening wet cunt. Your little pleasure nub looks so cute and swollen he can't help himself by giving it an experimental lick, appreciating the way your body tenses. So he does it again and again—paying good attention to your needy bud, kissing and lightly sucking on it, mapping out how you react to each movement.
You drip like sweet honey onto Denki’s tongue, showering him in lustful mewls and needy grinds against his face, tiny fists balling the sheets when he slips his tongue inside your needy hole. He eats you out like a man starving, holding your hips steadily in place. Your big brother loves the way your thighs tremble and your breath is uneven and he is determined to get you to cum on his tongue, he needs it.
And it doesn’t take long for your slick to overflow from your body, the thought alone that your step brother’s chin was shining with your mess was enough to make you melt into a puddle, the taboo aspect of what you were doing pushing you over the edge too quickly.
With a silent cry, you cum hard, pressing yourself against Kaminari’s face, a trickle of drool sliding down your own chin as your eyes roll back from pleasure so intense, your senses become overloaded for a moment that all you see is white.
Before you come back down from your high and your soul returns to its body, Denki has managed to kick aside his jeans and boxers, knees digging into the edge of the mattress and his leaking cock glides between your sticky folds.
For a split second an uneasy feeling captures your heart in an icy grip.
“Don’t worry. It’s okay if it doesn’t go in, right little sis?” the blonde’s voice is thickly coated with smugness, with a sense of toxicity that should be so incredibly off-putting, yet it makes your insides twist with desire.
Two orgasms in, and your head starts to feel fuzzy, the heat emanating from his length rubbing against your slit making you feel like you have one foot off of the edge of insanity. You circle your ass against his dick, desperate and teary-eyed, pleading and chanting his name like it’s a prayer, enjoying the friction of your step brother’s mushroom cockhead against your sensitive clit.
His hands explore the expanse of your body, following the curves and dips of your hips, squeezing the doughy skin on your hips. Denki was greedily taking in every weak sigh you let out and every shudder you respond with, basking in the knowledge that he’s the one making his little sister drip down on his girth, oozing into the sheets and making a mess of them. You feel the heat rising inside you, knots forming in the pit of your stomach, the madness creeping further across your brain with the sound of Denki’s filthy words in your ear. The sound of his dick slipping back and forth on your wet cunt. Everything is so obscene, even the scent of him is working you up more, the knots twisting tighter.
You crave more.
You shouldn’t.
Denki—he’s your step brother there would be so many consequences, so many drawbacks of your current situation.
But consequences be damned, because the vein on the underside of his shaft feels so good against your sensitive clit, so much so that your brain throws all logic and reason out the window.
Denki is nearly as desperate as you are, and he gripes and grunts loudly—so close to release, just from the wetness of your pretty pussy engulfing him. So when you lift your hips up and angle them against the head of his girth, pushing past your entrance with ease—he nearly loses it.
The softness and warmth of your cunt wrapping around his cock makes him feel like his soul is ascending to high heavens, eyes rolling back in his skull and body shaking in ecstasy with every inch of him that you take until he’s fully sheathed in you, balls laying flat against your swollen pleasure nub.
You don’t give him time to prepare, to react even—slamming your hips back against his as quickly as your body can handle, yearning for that the feeling of the tip of his dick reaching deep inside of you and helping the pressure build even faster.
Cock drunk and cross-eyed, absolutely debauched and unashamed, your body forces out another orgasm, causing your muscles to spasm with a string of curses leaving your pretty lips as your soft walls clamp down on the blonde’s dick.
Denki sees stars, the only thought crossing his mind in that moment being that he will never have pussy this good ever again—so snug against him, pulsing violently around his length, selfishly sucking him in deeper. And with that singular thought, your step brother decides to fuck you stupid, make you feel the exact same way he does—like nothing would ever be good enough again.
Snapping out of the trance your perfect pussy has put him in, he props up a leg on the bed, pulling his length out of your heat and marveling at the way your cunt gleams luxuriously with the crude mix of his precum and your erotic juices, clenching and spasming around nothing. You whimper, but before you can clearly state your protest, Kaminari spits on your raw and abused mound, slamming his entire length into you once more, with only a single motion, setting a meteoric pace—spreading your ass cheeks apart so he can fuck into you harder.
Forgetting all his previous misgivings about fucking his little sister, Denki gives into his carnal desire and takes everything he can from you. A thumb now collecting the arousal from between your legs and using it as lubrication to toy with your pert ass, slowly pushing in the digit into you as you become impossibly tighter around him.
“One more time—I need to feel you cum around my cock one more time, sis,” Angling his hips to hit your sweet spot with every thrust, Denki practically makes you scream out his name, the blistering heat of his cockhead kissing your cervix repeatedly, leaving your brain absolutely scrambled.
You don’t even think it’s possible for you to cum again, but the telltale signs of your impending orgasm are there. However, it feels different this time, as if there’s some sort of pressure bubbling up inside you—like a volcano ready to erupt. A string of pleas leave your wet lips, not really knowing what you’re begging for but Denki understands—maintaining the same angle and rhythm, he sneaks a hand around your torso to rub gentle circles over your puffy clit, the action pushing you over the edge.
With a loud cry, you tense up around him so hard that he has to pull out, clear liquid gushing from your aching cunt as you squirt onto the bed and taint Kaminari’s golden skin, body shaking violently with tears streaming down your face until you’re overwhelmed by the feeling. The view of your pussy gushing and squirting is so enticing, but Denki is too greedy to allow you time to calm down, grabbing your hips and propping you up, lining his tip with your sopping entrance again and drilling into you at a ravenous pace.
You’re too sensitive, too sore, even—but he holds you firm against his chest, a hand around your throat, slightly restricting your breathing and keeping you from protesting while the blonde chases down his own release.
“ ‘m not fucking pulling out,” he growls into the shell of your ear, a cruel smile twitching at the corners of his lips. Kaminari’s words make you clamp down greedily on him, body instinctively trying to milk him for all he’s worth.
A couple more ruthless thrusts of his cock deep into your abused little pussy and he’s thrown over the edge, balls tightening and thick cum spilling deep into your womb—there’s so much of it, too much, to the point where it’s leaking out of your hole before he’s even pulled out. Your insides are burning hot with his seed and you can’t even be bothered to remind yourself if you’re on birth control or not, too fucked out to be able to conjure up a coherent thought.
Slowly pulling away, the tall blonde stares at your pink puffy pussy, thick cum oozing out in globs and dripping down your thighs—he collects the sticky substance with two fingers and promptly pushes the digits past your soft lips.
“Nasty little step sister, if I had known you were this slutty and desperate, I wouldn’t have spent countless nights fucking my fist—I would’ve fucked this pretty pussy of yours instead.” He taps the two digits that were in your mouth against your clit and your body jolts.
He moves away from the bed, grabbing something from your desk that you can’t see, still trying to collect yourself. Before you even had the chance to ask what it was, your step brother shows you his phone, the screen showing you a replay of what had just happened minutes before—a video of Denki fucking into you with no sound.
“Y-You recorded that?” the panic sobers you up as you quickly rise from the bed and try to take the phone from him.
But Kaminari’s much faster.
“Of course.” The corners of his lips turn upwards but the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. His body language shifts as he leans down, eyes raking over your naked, soiled body, a cool and foreboding aura seeping into the room, sneaking up on you. “Leverage, step sis.”
The words feel icy, goosebumps rising on your skin—with you barely recognizing the amber eyes looking down at you.
It was twisted, it was wrong, but one way or another—Denki Kaminari will keep you all to himself.
𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑! I do not own any of the characters or people mentioned in my work. these are works of pure fiction that do not reflect the views, opinions, or actions of any person, real or fictional. Furthermore, all characters I write for [thirsts, drabbles, fics, etc.] are aged up to 21 or older – they are adults with adult characteristics presented and written in adult contexts.
✧ pairing: fuckboy smileball barista!denki x reader
✧ summary: having a slimebucks apron is equal to having unlimited rizz (source: me) and denki proves it by bedding his brand new colleague on her very first day of work.
✧ word count: 5.5k
✧ tags: dubcon(?), manipulation(?), weed and alcohol use, oral (f!receiving), fingering, squirting, overstimulation, forced orgasm, pussyjob, unprotected sex, pulling out, size difference (denki is Tall and Lanky TM), unappropriate work relationship, scummy denki, no feelings.
✧ my submission for the @bastardblvd Slimeball collab ✧
✧ AN: happy birthday to my little slimy fuckboy denks <3 this was so fun to work on, genuinely love being a grimetown resident now. the fanart is made by me but i'm no pro so.. be kind please. :D it was written in a daze so if you see discrepancies.. look away. based on my own tiny starbucks where i work (i am slimebucks denki incarnate). you may expect of me to make this a slimebucks series.. katsuki or touya next? ;)
Denki doesn’t like morning shifts — he doesn’t like how grumpy people are first thing in the morning because it makes scoring dates much harder for him. No matter how bubbly and pleasant he is, Monday mornings are just a bad time to flirt with clients. Most customers don’t even spare a glance at him, too busy figuring out their schedule for the day and burying their noses in their phones. He does, however, enjoy the morning business attire — stockings, pencil skirts, white shirts that allow him to see the outline of a bra underneath… and those heels. Something about office fashion always getshim riled up.
Typically, if he couldn’t strike up a conversation with the morning customers he would settle for watching them, eyes trailing down their crossed legs when they sit down to enjoy their coffee. He would follow their elegant movements and the curves of their bodies — from the corners of their painted lips turning upward in delight after a sip of hot coffee, to their dainty ankles decorated by the ankle strap of their heels swinging to the rhythm of the music playing softly on the speakers.
That is how his Mondays usually go, yet today he couldn't even enjoy that, all because of a new recruit.
His manager Katsuki (that angry bastard) had not even mentioned to them that he was hiring; he announced only yesterday that there would be a new trainee, pushing the responsibility of showing them around the store and kicking off their barista training onto him. Of course he wouldn’t ask Touya to train them — he would end up with his cock in his hand less than ten minutes into the start of his shift due to his “side hustle” schedule conflict, which in turn would scare off any new hire… and then the hiring process would have to start all over again. Katsuki himself is not much better off as barista trainer, his constant irritation and habit of screaming at everyone and everything has made many employees quit (and cry) early on, but the reason he was shoving the responsibility onto Denki was simply that he wouldn’t be in the store due to a manager’s meeting in Tokyo.
Bummer.
According to the clock on the wall, the new hire should be coming in any time now, so Denki settles for focusing his attention and efforts on that instead of his grumpy morning customers. And then, there you were in your yellow raincoat, all sunshine and smiles from the moment you step inside the store. Denki gives you a once over and decides maybe this Monday morning wouldn’t be so awful after all — you were cute and far too innocent and optimistic looking for him not to take advantage and have a little… fun.
His plan begins to form before you’ve even laid eyes on him.
“Hi! You must be the new addition to our team, pleasure to meet you!” The blonde extends a hand to greet you, his most charming smile plastered on his face. “Our team is a bit of a sausage party right now, so I hope you can bear with us and not get discouraged. We desperately need someone like you on our team.”
“Oh I can tell, your merch cabinets look very… dry. You fellas are not big on decorating, are you?” Your heartfelt laugh nearly disarms the blonde man as he scratches the back of his head awkwardly, admitting that the three men working there did not have the best sesne of aesthetics and beauty.
Oh, you were just his type — confident, energetic, and just a bit too kind and trusting.
“Well, you’re here to save us, right? How about we get started on your training, get the boring part over with so we can get to know each other better.”
There was not a single pure intention behind his words, but his face remains the picture of innocence and kindness. He’s had time to practice this look after all — can’t let people find out what’s behind the sunshine facade now, can he?
“Oh well training shouldn’t take long, I worked at a different Slimebuckslocation before moving to this part of town, hence why I’m being transferred here. I can get around drink making just fine, so you can just show me around the store I guess?” You bat your eyelashes at him and Denki thinks of you as a pure miracle. This expedites the timeline he had in mind.
With a pep in his step, he shows you around the store and back of house, informing you where they keep extra syrups and toppings at the front and the storage in the back. He hands you a new apron and name tag while informing you of the usual cleaning routine and covering all the basics that you need to get around the new store on your own. Not that he follows these cleaning routines that closely anyhow, but hey, you were here to pick up the slack now.
“So, think you got everything? Any questions?” Denki leans back against the bar on his elbows, long black painted fingers interlocking in front of his torso. He’s laid back and so pretty it’s almost distracting. A regular person has to exert effort not to stare too long at his honey colored eyes that crinkle when he smiles.
However, you cannot get too distracted — you must remain focused and make a good impression today.
“Yes, can I please rearrange and restock your merchandise cabinets? They do not spark joy and desire to buy in their current state. No offense.”
“Have at it.” Denki does not break eye contact, not once — feline eyes following your every move, gears turning in his head and schemes hatching in his pretty little head.
He doesn’t want to seem too overbearing, but he also doesn’t want you to think he isn’t interested. So, as it is pretty quiet in the store right now, he decides to give you a hand with the merchandise, chatting with you — learning about you. After all, the only times he actually puts effort into his minimum wage job arewhen there is a prospect of a cute girl removing her panties for him.
“So, you live nearby?” he begins to prod at you with innocent questions.
“Ah, not quite. I have to take a bus to get here since I don’t have a car anymore. I live on the east side of town, close to that big mall they built recently.”
Denki is easy to talk to, a nice balance budding between the two of you as he takes boxes out and hands you colorful cups and tumblers to put on the shelves.
“Hey, I live around those parts, too, I can give you a lift after work, save you some bus fare. Unless you have some super jealous boyfriend or something?” Despite flunking out of college, Kaminari isnot stupid — he isplaying his cards just right, creating an opportunity to learn if you’re single and give you an option to spend more time with him, which isn’t really an option. Unless you do have a boyfriend, you wouldn’t have a reason to say no, not after the deliberate way he phrased it.
“Haha, no, no boyfriend — kind of the reason I don’t currently have a car and why I had to move.” There’s an edge to your voice, maybe even a trace of anger, but to him they appear as feelings that seem to have simmered down. “I got out of a long relationship recently. We used to live together and share a car, but I had to get my own place after the breakup, and he took the car. And the dog.”
“That bastard!” Denki chimes, a bit too exaggerated, but he figures making a small joke won’t actually hurt. “Really though, that sucks. I’m sorry it happened.”
The way he switches from being a clown to being a gentleman can give a person whiplash.
“Don’t be, I’m not sorry it happened.” You shrug your shoulders and give him a wide, genuine smile. “Now I get to hook up and have flings whever I want.”
You keep the tone light, and you mean what you said — you’re not looking for anything serious right now, and the satisfaction from your answer was well written on the blonde’s face. He was cute, so maybe you’ll play along, have fun for once.
“So this means you’ll let me give you a ride?”
“If you really don’t mind?” You put the final tumbler on the shelf and examine your work in delight. Meanwhile Denki examines your body in delight.
“Oh, I’d be honored to.” A devious grin adorns his face as he follows you behind bar to help serve customers.
The day goes on, the playful banter between you and the blonde continuing — turns out you have similar hobbies: you like the same movies and games, you even have similar music taste, and Denki relinquished the store music rights to you for the day.
Your shoulders would brush as you work side by side at the coffee machines, and he would laugh shyly, complimenting your pace and how well you’re adjusting to the new store. The exchanges between the two of you were flawless, seamlessly passing each other lids and pitchers without so much as saying a word.
Kaminari gave the perfect performance of a man who enjoys his work; he didn’t even obnoxiusly flirt with every beautiful girl that placed an order.
“Hey, can you grab some more caramel drizzle from the back?” Denki asks after a huge line of people finally dissipates and gives room for some tidying up and restocking.
“Yea, absolutely. Need anything else?”
“Also grab some extra bags of coffee beans and vanilla syrup if you can?”
You nod and head to the back of house energetically.
Denki’s been working here for over two years now, so he knows that after this rush there won’t be anyone in the store for another half an hour at least, so sending you to the back of house away from customers was a calculated move. As soon as you disappear behind the doors he follows — after all, you wouldn’t be able to carry all that back to the front on your own.He should give you a hand.
Smiling to himself, he enters the storage area to see you standing on your tip toes trying to reach the bags of coffee on the top shelf. Quietly he walks up behind you, one hand on your waist to pull you back a bit, the other hand reaching above you for the coffee beans.
“Be careful. If you can’t reach somewhere, just call for me. Don’t want you getting hurt back here.” He can feel you melt into him and rest your back against his chest as he takes the four-pound bag down for you.
“Oh, sorry… I thought I was gonna be able to reach.” You smile at him, realizing how he was surrounding you in that moment, and something about itmade your skin tingle. “Thank you.”
“Of course! I figured you wouldn’t be able to carry everything at once so I came along to give you a hand.” The two of you stood very close to one another in the cramped storage, but you didn’t mind, as it was far too cold back here, and Kaminari was pleasantly warm to the touch. “The caramel drizzle is all the way down on that same self, if you want to grab that?”
Eager to complete the task, you turn around and bend over to open the box labled “caramel drizzle,” giving Denki a perfect view of you round ass, making him gulp hard. If he just reached forward he would be able to trace the curve of your ass with his hand, squeeze one cheek as his other hand trails down your side.
He shakes the thoughts out of his head as you stand back up, several bags of caramel sauce in your hands. You were squishing them playfully which was not helping Denki in keeping unholy thoughts at bay.
“I always loved the texture of these bags; it’s so stress relieving to play with them.” Grinning up at him, you were the picture of innocence.
“Yea, they remind me of tiddies.” Denki blurts out without even thinking, too enthralled by his imagination showing him images of you wrapping your pretty lips around his cock and playing with his balls. Once he realizes what he said he waves his hands around in defence. “No, no, not what I mea–”
“You haven’t touched boobs recently, have you?” You deadpan, and he can feel his heart sink. “Boobs are much more firm. I get where you’re coming from, but a bag of caramel sauce can not compare to a tit.” You say matter of factly while squishing a bag with your hand. “Can’t do that to a boob, can you?”
Denki snorts out a laugh.
“Yea, you’re right — tiddies do feel better. And it has indeed been a while since I got to touch one.” He dramatically wipes a fake tear from the corner of his eye, a big pout on his lips as he turns to exist the storage.
“Aww, poor Denki… Wanna cop a feel?” You can see him physically freeze up at these words, turning to give you a bewildered look. “I’m joking! Obviously. You that desperate, pretty boy?”
You walk past him with a gleeful look on your face.
The look in Kaminari’s eyes changes as soon as you’re out of sight, and he cannot wait to get his greedy hands on you. In fact, he was going to challenge himself and get between those plush thighs of yours by tonight.
When the two of you are behind bar again, he continues to orbit close to you, watching videos on your phone over your shoulder, brushing his fingers against your skin when he passes you a milk carton, caging you between his body and the bar while he reaches for something behind you.
And every time you accidentally touched, you could feel electicity run down your spine and butterflies flutter in your stomach. His light amber eyes trailing down your body lit a fire in your lower belly. The day went on just like that — standing a bit too close to one another, making inappropriate jokes, flirting. And so came time to close and go home, riding in his car.
“You done with the trash?” you ask as he takes his apron off.
“Yeah, if you’re done with the floor we can head on out.” You head to the back of house together to grab your stuff from your lockers and lock up.
“So, got any plans for tonight?” he asks, leaning on his locker while waiting for you to put your jacket on.
Now that you’re officially off the clock, you take the time to pay attention to small details about the man — how long his eyelashes are, how he cockily half smiles at you, how veiny his forearms are.
“No plans, no — I’m probably gonna end up watching Desperate Housewives with a glass of wine by myself.”
And there you go — giving him another opportunity.
“Oh you watch that too?” He’s excited, presenting this as an interest that not many share with him. “That’s basically my plan for the evening, except I was gonna get high instead of drinking.” Sharing with you that he smokes weed is also tactical; it indicates trust that you won’t misuse that information, and it also opens a gate for you to bond with him over weed if you smoke.
“Oh, well...” And there you go, taking the bait. “If it’s not too forward of me to offer, I’ve got alcohol and pizza on speed dial, you have weed and good company. Maybe we can merge resources, watch tonight’s episode together?”
Score.
“Sounds perfect.”
He places his hand at the small of your back as he leads you towards his car, being very caring and gentle — making you feel comfortable and safe, letting you open up to him. It was going to be a fun night for Denki.
Your apartment is exactly what he envisioned: small but cozy, full of plants, color and art. The small space reflected your personality, a variety of interests on display, different styles clashing in every corner of the room. It was cute. And your chouch seemed very comfortable for eating pussy.
“Cute place.”
“Thanks. I finally got the chance to decorate my own space however I want, so I went a bit crazy with it.”
Kaminari doesn’t miss the emphasis in your voice; you lived for a long time with no control over small and insignificant things such as decor. You were frustrated. At the same time, he notes that now you seem to cling to control. He noticed it at work, too — you rarely gave yourself time off. Things are really looking up for the blonde man, and he can barely contain his wolfish smile as the gears in his head turn. You’d love to give up control, wouldn’t you?
“Make yourself comfortable on the couch. I’ll grab us some drinks and we can order pizza.”
As you make way to the small kitchen, Denki takes two pre-rolled joints from a cigarette tin and places them on the table. Wine and weed should make you nice and pliable for him. You return with a glass of white wine and a cold beer.
“I figured you’s prefer a beer over wine.” You offer with a smile, and he accepts.
“How observant of you. I just wanna check first:Are you sure you want to mix alcohol and weed? Might hit you hard.” He shows concern, but it’s fake — the more crossfaded you are, the easier it would be for him to get you naked.
“Yea I’m uh.. More practiced than I care to admit.” You give him a coy smile and sit next to him on the couch, phone in hand ready to order food. Once that is out of the way, you both finally lean back and relax on the couch, the episode of Desperate Housewives starting with a recap.
“So, do you invite people you just met to your apartment to get stoned often, or..?” He offers jokingly as he lights one of the joints up.
“No, just the pretty and charming ones.” You’re no longer being coy about it like you were at work; you like him, and you aregoing to make it known.
“Oh, you think I’m pretty? So you only want me for my face?” He retorts with faux disappointment, eyes focused on yours intently, curious and full of desire.
“Not just your face. You have pretty hands too.” You answer with a straight face, reaching for his hand that was holding the joint and pulling it towards yourself, taking a drag from the joint between his slender fingers.
Denki swallows, the lust thick in his throat. The way your lips wrap around the joint is sinister, the eyecontact you maintain while doing it — electrifying.
His body responds before his brain can process, leaning in towards you to capture the smoke from your lips with his own, inhaling it and placing his free hand at the back of your neck, keeping your lips close to his.
Honey-colored eyes stare down at you as your cheeks begin to heat, mind and heart racing as your tongue darts to wet your lips and taste him. Screw your plan to just tease him, wind him up for a week or two, make him eager — you don’t have the patience for all that. You set your glass on the coffee table and close the gap between the two of you, pushing him back, straddling him.
“Feeling bold tonight, sweetness?” He smiles up at you, letting you get your dose of control, let you simmer in the illusion that you initiated this, you took the lead. His free hand rests on your thigh, thumb drawing circles over your jeans, gently squeezing you.
You don’t dignify him with a response as your lips crash onto his in a searing kiss, fingers carding through his blonde locks. He can tell how needy you are by the way your body moves — pulling his hair a bit harder than you should, nipping at his lower lip, canting your hips over his. You’re leaning into his every touch, almost aggressively taking what you want from him, claiming control.
He smiles into the kiss and in one swift move shifts you to lay flat on your back on the couch, his larger frame towering over yours.
“Don’t move.” He sounds almost like a different person as he yanks the control from you, and you obey. You lay still and watch him intently as he lights the joint again, taking a long drag and putting the joint back on the ashtray.
Leaning down, he places his hand under your chin, parting your lips and blowing the smoke into your mouth. You inhale and hold your breath as he traces kisses down your jaw and collarbone, warm hands sneaking under your shirt. He only speaks after you slowly exhale the smoke.
“You’ve brightened my day, you know. Let me thank you properly.”
His fingers trail down your body and unbutton your jeans, feather light kisses pressed against your tummy just above the hem of your pants. You don’t protest, so he continues his ministrations, pulling your shirt up above your head and leaving you in your pink lacy bra. He pushes one of the bra straps to the side and—
Ding dong!
The pizza has arrived.
“Fuck–” He scrambles to his feet to go answer the door while you qucikly throw your shirt back on and head to the kitchen. Denki follows with pizzas in hand that he quickly discards on the table.
“Are the pizzas cut? Do you need any sauce or—” You’re scooped up in his hands and pressed against the kitchen counter. His lips are on your again, insistent and needy. “Denk— The food?”
“I was hoping for a different meal.”
His breath is hot against the shell of your ear as he lifts you up to sit you on the marble counter, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he makes desire bubble inside you once more.
Discarding your pesky shirt again, he wastes no time in removing your bra and cupping your breasts, lips enclosing around your pert nipple.
“You’re right — much better than a bag of caramel sauce.” His words are barely above a whisper as he tweaks your nipple between thumb and index finger, leaving wet kisses across your sternum and stomach. His hands grip at the hem of your still unbuttoned jeans, and you follow his wordless instruction, lifting your hips and letting him slip the jeans off.
There you were, practically naked on your kitchen counter while he, still fully dressed, devoured you with predatory eyes. Large hands rest on your bare thighs, and he gently spreads your legs and drags you closer to the edge of the countertop.
You’re pretty and soft, and you smell nice. Denki can’t help but wonder if you’ll taste sweet as well. A single digit traces the outline of your lacy thong, marveling at the wet spot forming on the material. Hooking his finger behind the material, he roughly pulls it upwards — the feeling isn’t exactly pleasant, but it doesn't hurt either; it’s simply not enough friction. You need more. Your nose and eyebrows scrunch, and you wrap your hand around his wrist, a pleading whine leaving your parted lips.
“Aw, I’m sorry pretty girl… I won’t tease you too much, promise.”
Another quick peck to your lips and he sinks to his knees in front of you, eye level with your needy wet cunt. Pushing the pink fabric to the side, he inspects your pretty cunt, glistening with arousal. Kissing from the inside of your thigh and making his way to your core, all you can do is tug on his hair and hold on while he devours you whole.
Kaminari finally delves his tongue into your heat, leaving a long stripe from your needy hole to your sensitive clit and then focusing on the latter. His tongue is gentle, teasing — like he has all the time in the world to enjoy this tasty treat, working you up until your body starts moving on its own against his tongue. Your head is so far up in the clouds that you probably aren’t even aware of how tightly you’re gripping his hair and how you’re moving your hips rhythmically against his mouth.
You sound cute: breathless and whiny, softly begging under your breath, head tilted back in pleasure as the muscles in your thighs stiffen and your legs shake. Yet, Denki does not speed up, maintaining his languid pace and dangling true bliss right in front of your eyes.
“F-fuuck… Denki, please...”
Your heart is in your throat, and your body aches from the tension, you need release. You can feel the smirk on his lips as you beg him.
At the peak of your high, delirious from the need to cum but not being given enough friction to tumble over the edge, Denki lifts two long, slender fingers to your wet cunt and slowly pushes them inside you, the feeling of being filled up driving the air out of your lungs.
Quickly, Denki finds that spongy spot inside you and presses against it, moving his fingers right against it while his lips and tongue focus on your clit.
It takes seconds for you to ascend, body going rigid as your muscles contract around his fingers and your orgasm is forced out of you with a strangled moan. He does not slow down.
One strong arm wraps around your thigh, keeping you still while his mouth continues to ravage you, fingers slipping in and out with precision. He was intending to force another orgasm out of you without giving you time to recover from the first.
Your arms and legs feeltingly and limp, and Denki has to support your weight all while eating you out like a man starved. His cock is painfully hard in his tight jeans, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t make you cum one more time on his face.
You taste like wild honey, and your whiny pleas fuel him to keep going, marveling in the feeling of you becoming tighter and tighter for him, chest heaving erraticly and shaky fingers scratching at his arms and shoulders. You are about to come undone for him.
Before your mind can respond to your body, the coil in your belly snaps, and you gush onto his fingers with a scream, squirting in his earger mouth as he licks up every clear droplet. He removes his fingers and helps you come down from your high with gentle kisses over your swollen clit and soft thighs.
Your mind is spinning, but your ears register the sound of a belt unbuckling. Groggily opening your eyes, you are met with the image of him keeping his t-shirt tucked between his teeth as he fists his cock to the sight of you. His pupils are blown — only a thin ring of gold remaining. He closes the gap between you again, his warm length resting on your sticky cunt, slowly gliding between your folds.
You open your mouth to ask if he has condoms, but he seems to have already read your mind.
“Don’t have any on me, but I’m clean, and I won’t put it in.” His words are rushed, and he is far too entranced by the feel and sound of wetness to even look you in the eyes.
You can’t even bother to argue, too tired and blissed out with a new sesnse of hunger growing in the pit of your stomach. Your hips instinctively move to meet his thrusts, the mushroom tip of his cockhead grinding into your sensitive clit, and you just want more. Tired hands reach out to him, thumb rubbing over his cheek as he leans into your touch, kissing your palm with his eyes shut as his hips thrust faster against your sloppy wet cunt.
“Fuck, gorgeous, you have no idea how bad I wanna be inside ya.” He nips at your hand still resting on his cheek and growls lowly, frustrated by his own imagination of how snug you would feel around his cock.
Drunk on his words and the previous two orgasms he forced out of you, you want him just as bad. Throwing all logic and reasoning out the window you use the last of your strenght to lift your hips and line him up to your entrance, slamming your hips down and taking his cock all at once with a yelp.
“P-Please, please…” You mumble in a chant as your velvety walls spasm around his girth, mouth loosly hanging open and a bit of drool trickling down your chin. You were so beautifully fucked out, heavy eyelids giving you the most seductive look.
Finally overcoming his shock and managing to stifle his impending orgasm, Denki moves his hips and curses under his breath at the feeling of your gummy walls sucking him in. Grinning wolfishly at the way your eyes roll to the back of your head, small hands gripping his sleeve for dear life, he angles his hips to thrust his cock right into your sweet spot making you scream his name in pleasure.
God, if he hadn’t edged himself half to insanity, he’d want to stay buried in your warm cunt for the whole evening, but you felt so good, he knew he wouldn’t last. Hooking his arms under your knees and then linking his finger behind your neck he rams his cock fervently inside you. The angle change of this position made you feel him all the way in your stomach, your clit slapping against his pelvis with each thrust. Snaking a hand between your bodies you circle a finger over your clit to help yourself while he uses you as a fleshlight.
“That’s right sweetness, keep doing that, you need to cum one more time f’me. One more.”
Folding you even more and slamming you on his cock he could feel your insides trying to push him out as a third orgasm washes over you, more clear liquid splashing against his abdomen as you cry out his name.
Letting you out of the headlock, he pulls out quickly, pumping his fist over his cock as his balls thighten, and he empties his seed all over your wet cunt, smearing his cum over your clit and folds with a relieved sigh.
Still caging you in with his arms at your sides, he leans down to place a kiss on your forehead.
“You good?” You answer with a weak nod, and he can’t help but chuckle at how exhausted you are reaching over for the kitchen paper. “Sorry, it’s the closest thing I can clean you up with.”
After catching your breath and no longer being covered in sticky cum, post-nut clarity finally settles in, and you chew on your lower lip, anxiously pondering the consequences of your actions.
“Don’t freak out, pretty girl.” He’s his usual charming self now, feline eyes crinkling in a smile. “You don’t want anything serious, nor do I, and if word gets out at work we’d be both in trouble. So, how about we keep this between us?”
Offering you a perfect escape — the final part of his plan. You smile widely glad to know you’re both on the same page, the anxiety dying down.
“Also, sorry to bust a load and hit the road, but my landlord has left me like 12 messages about some emergency at the flat so I think I should really go check it out, might be a flood.” He awkwardly scratches his neck, showing that he feels bad about this.
“Oh, don’t worry about it! Go, I hope it isn’t flooded.” You turn to grab one of the abandoned pizzas on the table. “Why don’t you take this with you? You never got to eat it anyway. Won’t be as good as fresh pizza, but it’s something…”
He grins widely, accepting the pizza and giving you a chaste kiss on the cheek.
“Thank you. I’ll see you at work then, newbie?”
“See you then.”
Escorting him to the door you lock it behind him and rest your back to the door taking a deep breath.
Walking outside of your apartment complex, Denki pulls his phone out of his back pocket and dials a number under the name “Landlord Toshi”.
“Hey man, thanks for always having my back with the apartment ‘emergencies.’” The blonde laughs into the phone. “Yea, I told you she was gonna be easy — fresh out of a relationship, wants to let loose and make up for lost time, constantly feels like she has to be in control so naturally gives the reins away when it comes to fucking. It was a fun little challenge.”
“You dog.” The man on the other line chuckles and a bong can be heard in the background. “You gonna tap that again?”
“Nah, she seems the type to catch feels.” Denki lights up the other joint in his cigarette tin and gets in his car, revving the engine. “Plus, the only reason I did this was to even the bet scores at work while Touya is still on vacation.”
𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑! I do not own any of the characters or people mentioned in my work. these are works of pure fiction that do not reflect the views, opinions, or actions of any person, real or fictional. Furthermore, all characters I write for [thirsts, drabbles, fics, etc.] are aged up to 21 or older – they are adults with adult characteristics presented and written in adult contexts.
NSFW, aged up characters (21+) || minors, ageless and empty blogs DO NOT INTERACT!!
pairing // Mikey x reader x Draken
word count // 582
tags // degradation (reader called 'whore' once), slight breath play, size kink if you squint, tummy bulge, creampie, slightly unhinged Mikey, a bit of Mikey x Draken action at the end
AN // this was based on a short lived dream that was disturbed by my pesky alarm, hence why it is so smol. mayhaps one day i will expand.
Every once in a while, Mikey feels rather generous and allows his right hand man—his best friend—to fuck you. He would sit nearby commanding you, whispering in your ear while Draken was in your gut, his fat cock stretching you out, leaky tip abusing your cervix.
“Look at you, all fucked out like this on someone else’s cock. Filthy whore.” Mikey’s fingers are now wrapping around your throat, probably a bit tighter than they’re supposed to. There is a dangerous glint in his eyes.
Your eyes dart between Mikey’s and Draken’s, unspoken pleads spilling out just like the tears streaming down your cheeks. You could barely hang on, thighs violently shaking around Ken’s waist, and you could feel him all the way in your throat, his big cock relentlessly drilling into you, kissing all the good spots that made you cry out in pleasure.
Your walls flutter around his girth, squeezing him for all he’s worth and making his head spin with thoughts he wasn’t supposed to have. Thoughts about having you all to himself.
You looked even prettier than usual pinned under his large body—soft skin under his fingers, tits bouncing with every thrust, small bulge visible on your belly, and eyes rolled at the back of your head. Draken wished he could see you like this more often, as so far it was his favourite view.
And Mikey didn’t mind the view either—he didn’t miss the way your tiny hands clutched around Ken’s neck, how your tongue was lolled out and you were loud. And so fucking gorgeous. And he knew you like the back of his hand so he was already aware you were close to cumming—the way your eyebrows pinched together and your muscles tensed.
“M-Mik-ey.. please.. p-please, I need to.. I want to.. ” you were a babbling mess, all you could really manage to say was ‘please’ yet he knew exactly what you meant.
“Aw, wanna cum, princess?” he cooes, his lips wrapping around your perky nipple and sucking it hard, teeth grazing over it. All you could give in response was a nod, begging again, saying how it’s driving you crazy. So Mikey took pity on you. “Go on then, show Kenchin how good you feel creaming around his cock.”
And you didnt need to be told twice, fingers craded through Ken’s hair, tugging on it, your whole body went rigid, the coil in your belly finally snapping. All at once, your orgasm is washing over you with the force of a tsunami, leaving you a trembling mess.
“Fuck, f-FUCK” Draken was now struggling, hips stuttering against yours. You were impossibly tight already, but with your pussy clamping down on him and sucking him in greedily, he could barely contain himself. He was going to cum.
“Shit, cummin” his hands were bruising your hips with the force he was holding you with. And through the haze of your orgasm you could feel his—balls pressed to the curvature of your ass, emptying themselves deep inside you. Hot spurts of thick cum were filling you up and it was the most euphoric feeling ever. Until you heard Mikey speak again.
“I gave her permission to cum, I don’t fucking remember giving you permission, Kenchin.” He has a hand wrapped around Ken’s throat now, eyes looking even more dangerous than before, completely clouded by lust. And before you realise what'a happening, Mikey is pulling Draken in for a kiss and you realise.. you’re in for a really long night.
𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑! I do not own any of the characters or people mentioned in my work. these are works of pure fiction that do not reflect the views, opinions, or actions of any person, real or fictional. Furthermore, all characters I write for [thirsts, drabbles, fics, etc.] are aged up to 21 or older – they are adults with adult characteristics presented and written in adult contexts.
NSFW—college AU, aged up characters (21+) || minors, ageless and/or empty blogs DO NOT INTERACT!
pairing // itadori yuuji x professor!reader
summary // you’re having a particularly rough week and your student yuuji’s childish and nonchalant behaviour towards his failing grades and missing assignments is simply the last straw, forcing you to snap and teach the brat a lesson. for some extra credit, of course. :)
word count // 5.1k
tags // power imbalance, mean dom!reader, sub!yuuji, dubcon (tagging non-con just in case), forced masturbation (m!receiving), blackmail, recorded masturbation (m!receiving), cockwarming a dildo (m!receiving), little to no preparation penetration (m!receiving) sexual favours for extra credit, oral (f!receiving), dacryphilia, slight degradation, humiliation, praise, use of the title ‘professor’, hair pulling, spit as lube, cum play, unprotected sex, creampie
AN // and the reposting continues! reading this again reminded me that i love writing submissive men. a very long time ago @/cyancherub beta read this for me, and I am still eternally grateful :) <3
You’ve been having a very shit week so far—your car broke down on Monday and the guys at the repair shop told you it’s going to be at least three days before it’s fixed, and the price they charged for their services also didn’t help with your mood.
Furthermore, on Tuesday you found out your health insurance claim didn’t go through, adding yet another expense that you have to worry about. Your poor wallet can’t handle all the damage it’s taking.
You would think you could’ve gotten some peace and quiet when you got home on Wednesday, but no—you walked into your apartment only to find your new couch and all the pillows completely destroyed by your dog. Pillow filling and pieces of cloth scattered all across the living room as your dog was now laying in his bed, looking up at you innocently, as if he didn’t just destroy an extremely expensive couch.
Thursday was no breeze either, as you started your day by spilling a venti sized caramel macchiato all over your white dress shirt. Walking into your meeting with the dean of the school covered in coffee was embarrassing enough, but when he started chewing you out for the low grade point average in your class, you were just about ready to cry.
But you clenched your fists and bit your tongue, refusing to show weakness to anyone. It was just a bad week, it too would pass.
There is only one day of the week left, and after that, you can indulge yourself over the weekend and take time to relax and de-stress. Only Friday left… but boy, you’re not looking forward to this Friday. Why?
Because you have to teach a class with him—Itadori Yuuji, your most annoying student. Yuuji is by no means unintelligent or incapable, no—but he is, however, an asshole. A petulant child that firmly believes he can get away with anything simply because he is handsome and charming. He is the type of guy to enter the classroom 20 minutes late and simply smile and wink at you; no apology, no explanation. Just a cocky 24-karat smile. He talks loud, voices all of his opinions, and doesn’t really care about anyone or anything.
Now apparently he has decided to stop handing in his assignments, which in turn creates another problem for you. You could, of course, choose to ignore him and simply let him flunk, but that would mean two things: first, he would have to repeat the class, meaning you would have to see more of him, and second, it would give the dean one more reason to be angry with you and punish you for “bringing down the grade average of the entire institution”.
So this Friday you’re planning on pulling him aside after class and having a serious discussion with him about his grades and work ethic. You have been lenient enough with him over the past few months, choosing to ignore his attitude and simply focus your attention on the students who actually wanted to be there, but that has to come to an end. What you’re less willing to admit to yourself, is that you’re very anxious about the conversation you’ll have with him. What will you say? What if he mocks you? What if he keeps that irritating everything-is-a-joke attitude? But the scariest thought of all: What if I finally snap? Maybe I should teach that little brat a lesson.
So here you are, laying in your bed awake way past your bedtime, anxiously pondering over the events that might unfold tomorrow. It’s going to be a long day.
2:37 PM
The days are surely growing shorter and colder. Grey clouds are hanging heavy over your head, ready to rain down on you any moment now. There are 23 minutes left until class begins, so you grab a quick cup of coffee to go and you head on over to the classroom, mulling over what to say to Yuuji, practising different scenarios in your head. For some reason, the majority of these scenarios end up with Yuuji tied up and sobbing, spanked raw and begging for forgiveness. You shake your head, trying to get rid of these thoughts. Trying to shake away the urge to break the strawberry-haired man. He would look so cute crying though.
By the time class starts at 3:00 PM you’re halfway through your coffee, slightly starting to regret having more than two cups that day because it’s making you antsy. You take a final sip and greet your students, making a mental note of the fact that for once Yuuji is on time. The lesson goes smoothly, but you can’t help noticing that Yuuji never seems to be paying attention; never really even looking towards the big screen behind you where important slides containing assignment details were shown. Almost like he’s avoiding looking at you.
Finally, class is over, the room filling with the sounds of chairs being pulled and students chatting amongst each other. You call Yuuji over, secretly glad that none of the other students are paying attention and simply rolling out of the classroom one by one. Itadori slings his backpack over his shoulder and saunters over to your desk, hands in his pockets, a certain pep in his step.
“Whaddup, Y/N?” he grins, not a care in the world.
“It’s miss L/N to you. And I need to speak with you about your last assignment, the one you never handed in.” You don’t even look up from the pile of papers on your desk that you were busying yourself with in an attempt to remain composed.
“Oh yeaaah, there was an assignment, wasn’t there? Oops.” His stupid smile never falters. The irritation is bubbling in your chest and it tastes bitter in your mouth; the papers in your hands crinkle under the force of your fingers.
“Yup, there was, and it was worth 40% of your final grade. That means you are facing the possibility of failing this class, Mr. Itadori.” Your voice is cold and calculated, all traces of irritation erased—you’re all business. You are his teacher, you need to keep things professional, no room for emotions, especially emotions that will not improve the situation in any way, such as anger.
You finally look up at the strawberry-haired boy, only to find him staring, but not at you. His brown eyes were fixated on the collar of your tight shirt, the top two buttons undone, showing off your soft skin and collarbones. The shirt itself doesn’t reveal a lot, but it’s tight, the outline of your bra quite visible up close. He swallows and looks away quickly, but not fast enough for you to not notice his quite obvious interest.
“I’m sorry Mr. Itadori, are my breasts more interesting to you right now?” You arch an eyebrow, the irritation that was growing inside of you finally reaching your voice too. The audacity this brat has.
“I- no... I- m’sorry” he stutters. Yuuji Itadori, Mr. Charming and Almighty, was flustered. How interesting. The scenarios your mind conjured earlier are suddenly flooding your brain again and you can’t help but wonder… could you make him even more flustered?
“Listen here Yuuji, this is basically sexual harassment, you know. I’m trying to help you here, have a serious conversation about your situation, yet all you can do is stare at my tits. Now, what do you think I should do about this, hm?”
He opens his mouth in an attempt to say something, to argue, to come up with some witty comeback—yet no sound comes out. After a long, uncomfortable pause he finally mumbles a barely audible m’sorry, fixating his gaze on the floor. Some sick, twisted part of you finds this adorable. The corners of your lips curve upwards just barely.
“What exactly are you sorry for, Yuuji?” There is a teasing lilt to your voice, the use of his first name completely throwing him off guard. He looks at you with big eyes, once again unable to form a response.
“For, uh- … for always staring at you inappropriately.. a-and fantasizing.” He gulps loudly, mouth suddenly feeling all too dry. His little confession is a surprise to you, but you don’t let it show. You maintain a neutral face, studying him closely. You can see him get even more nervous under your gaze.
“Always?” you pause, eyebrow raised quizzically. “Fantasizing?” tilting your head slightly to the side, your eyes never leave his. Your presence only grows, asserting its dominance over his. The boy that usually towers over you and always has a carefree, happy-go-lucky attitude, suddenly looks very small to you. A blush is creeping up his neck and cheeks, proof that he really is feeling flustered.
“Huh.. so you fantasize about your teacher?” you smirk, several sinister ideas flooding your brain as you look at the boy in front of you shrink even more. “You can get in a lot of trouble for this… Mr. Itadori.” Gracefully you get out of your chair, moving to sit at the end of your desk, shortening the distance between you and your student. “If word got out, administration would have to remove you from my class—you would lose all credits you’ve obtained thus far in my class and you would have to pick a different course in order to obtain those credits again.” Your eyes travel up his body, slowly, undressing him in your mind. “That would be a lot of work, Mr. Itadori. Don’t you think?”
Not trusting his ability to speak right now, he simply nods. There is apprehension in his eyes, but also curiosity.
“Perhaps we can work this out? Resolve our… conflict, as to avoid getting administration involved.”
You hear the gears turning in his head, mulling over all the possibilities, mind racing and his heart pounding loudly in his chest. “Resolve… how?”
You can barely contain yourself at how small his voice is, how unsure. The boy that usually gleamed with confidence and strides down the corridors as if he owns them is suddenly unable to look you straight in the eye.
“Well, Mr. Itadori, I am a teacher after all. I think it would be best if I teach you a lesson about how it feels to be objectified. To be seen as nothing more than a pretty face, or hot body.” Your hand darts forward, now toying with the hem of his shirt. Yuuji is holding his breath as if the tiniest movement could drive you away. “Relax, Mr. Itadori, it’s just a lesson. You will benefit from it. Just do as I tell you and this little incident will be forgotten.” You pull him in by the collar of his t-shirt, his face now inches away from yours. A coy smile plays on your lips as you practically feast over the expression painted on his face at this moment. Surprise, desire and fear mixed all together, making his coffee-coloured eyes water slightly. But a breathy okay leaves his lips, eyes transfixed on yours as you push him backwards to sit in a chair.
“Clothes off. Don’t talk unless I ask you a question. Understand?”
Yuuji mutters a quick “yes,” fingers already hooking under his sweats, pulling them down as you lock the door to your classroom and make sure there is no way to peek inside the room. Lucky for you, most classes also end early on Friday, so the building is surely almost completely empty by now.
Yuuji’s heart rate picks up with each clank of your heels against the wooden parquet as you head on over back to the desk, once again sitting on its edge, arms crossed over your chest. Here he is, strawberry hair dishevelled, chest exposed and if you look closely enough, you can see the vibrations on his skin as his heart hammers wildly against his ribcage. All he has left on were his over-the-calf white Nike socks and his banana print boxers. The outline of his dick making your mouth water, already semi-hard even though nothing has really happened so far.
“Show me what you do when you fantasize about me. Tell me what you think about. I want to know how exactly you objectify me… how often.” Your voice is quiet but commanding, distant yet curious. It takes him a moment to gather the courage to go through with what you ask of him, but he finally palms himself over his boxers, not daring to look at you, but opening his mouth to speak.
“I- I often imagine what you look like under your clothes. What kind of l-lingerie you wear...” his voice falters at the end, the blush creeping up his face betraying him. But quite visibly, blood isn’t rushing only to his face. His eyes are shut and eyebrows pinched together, but he keeps on talking, just like you asked him to. “I think about you masturbating… Like I do almost every night. I-I think about eating you out and I imagine how you taste, what you look like.” He is gripping his now fully erect cock under the cloth of his boxers, and the whole view is just so delicious. His little confessions go straight to your clit, desire taking you over. You take your phone out and quickly open your camera, switching to video and turning it on.
“Go on, don’t hold back.”
He keeps his eyes shut, but his hand movements get braver. In an instant, his big calloused hand dives under his boxers to pull out his heavy cock, the elastic band of his underwear resting under his balls. He’s already leaking, a pearly bead of precum sliding down his shaft, right next to a big juicy vein. You zoom in with your camera, making sure to catch all the details.
“I imagine how tight you’d feel when you cream around my cock.” At these words he squeezes his length harder, a tiny whimper escaping his lips and it makes your heart twist and your insides burn. You just know the stretch of his cock will be delicious. You know he’d feel so good. The thought alone has you clenching around nothing and you slide a hand under your skirt, fingers pressing over your clit as a shudder travels your spine.
“Yeah? You wanna do all those things to me, Mr. Itadori? You want to see me naked, taste me, feel me? Tell me how much you want it.” You’re focusing the camera on his face now, capturing his face contorting in pleasure and need. Hand stroking his dick faster now, smearing the pre all across his length. He doesn’t really need to say how much he wants that as it becomes evident from the vigour in his strokes, but you want to hear him anyway. “Tell me, use your words, baby boy.” The nickname sets him off, all the moans he’d been staving off finally surfacing.
“S’much… it’s all I can think about. Every time I come to class my mind… w-wanders, mmgh.” His chest is heaving, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he fucks his fist wishing it was you, eyes still tightly shut. “Even now… I really am imagining that you’re jacking me off… it’s so fucking h-hot.”
It would be a lie to say that your hands weren’t itching to touch him, to make him writhe and squirm and beg. But that would have to wait. Right now, you just want to see him cum.
“Mmm, and how do these little daydreams of yours end, hm? Wanna show me?” It takes Yuuji only a few more strokes before his orgasm washes over him, abdomen muscles tightening, hot thick cum spurting over his chest and tummy, some even landing on his chin. His breathing is erratic and his heart feels like it's trying to break a hole through his ribcage. Finally, he cracks an eye open, gaze immediately landing on the phone in your hands.
Stopping the video and tossing the phone aside, you stride over to him and card your fingers through his hair, slightly pulling his head back to look him in the eyes. Amongst all the emotions he’s feeling, fear is the most prominent right now. His eyes are watering again, and you quiver at the sight.
“Call it an eye for an eye. One video for me to keep in exchange for all the times you’ve stared at me, imagining how good I would actually feel. If you behave, the video stays in my possession only. So be good f’me Yuuji, yea? Can you do that?”
He nods his head quickly, too quickly for his own liking, but he dares not to disobey. His submission pleases you so you ease your grip on his hair, deft fingers sliding down the side of his face and tracing his sharp jawline.
"You know Mr. Itadori, we’re not quite done here yet. I still need to discuss the possibility of you failing my class. I was thinking of assigning you some extra credit work to make up for the assignment you didn’t hand in… if you’d like to stay in my class-"
He cuts you off. “P-Please… I want to do the extra credit work. Please, I-I’ll do good, I’ll make up for my bad grades, ‘promise.” The puppy eyes he gives will simply be the death of you. You smile and rub soft circles with your thumb on his cheek.
Straightening up, you walk away from him heading towards your desk, fingers running through the wooden surface and landing on your briefcase. "I really, really dislike brats, you know. And I absolutely will not tolerate more mistakes like this from you, Mr. Itadori. No more attitude. No more slacking off."
There’s an edge to your voice, a coldness emanating from it, and it sends shivers down his spine. Unconsciously he swallows, tongue darting out to swipe at his bottom lip. Even for him, it’s hard to tell if he’s scared or aroused. Or maybe both. But what he is sure of is that you’re commanding all of his attention right now. He would do anything for your approval.
“To ensure you actually complete the assignment and don’t flunk out of my class, I will be monitoring your work. And you will do it right here, where I can see you.” The briefcase is now open, your hands rummaging in it, fingers wrapping around the object you’re looking for. “You’re going to use some tools to further… motivate you.” Your grin is wicked as you pull out a pink silicone dildo from your briefcase. Smiling at your student, your tongue presses itself flat against the dildo, licking a slow stripe from shaft to tip.
"You said you’ll be good, right? Promised you’ll do the extra credit… Still feeling up for the task?" You're now walking back to him and his eyes grow wider with fear. He's never done this before. He tries to swallow the lump in his throat as you sit down on his lap but to no avail. His mind is going completely blank, but his dick is acting on its own accord, becoming hard again pressed up against your ass.
“I want to do the extra credit, professor. Please?” The words are almost a whisper, the sound of his heart drowning out the sound. You chuckle and present the dildo to his lips in a silent command which he obeys, wrapping his lips around the tip of the dildo.
"Ah, so you can obey orders, well that's a relief. Because I have a tall order coming for you." You shove the dildo all the way down his throat, tears immediately pooling in his eyes, the only noise coming from him being muffled moans and gagging. "So listen up, brat—you're going to take this dildo like a big boy and cockwarm it for me as you write your assignment right here, right now. Where I can see you."
He can’t verbally give you an answer with the dildo shoved down his throat, so he nods, trying to hold off his gag-reflex, a single tear rolling down his cheek.
You don’t even think about it as you lean closer, tongue darting out to collect the stray tear, the salty taste of it making you hum in delight. You remove the dildo from his mouth, a clear string of saliva connecting his lips and the pink tip of the dildo, which you simply hand to him. It’s his extra credit work after all, he should do all the work himself if he wants a good grade.
This time you drag your chair from behind your desk and position it across Yuuji’s, giving you a perfect view of the show he’s about to put on for you. With shaky hands he positions the dildo on the chair, making sure the suction cup at the bottom is well attached. You could see him think through every move he makes, taking his laptop out, positioning everything so that he could attempt to write while he cockwarms the dildo.
The strawberry-colour haired man takes a final unsure look at you as if seeking confirmation, but even he can’t deny the excitement he feels deep down. The primal need to please you, show you he can be a good boy too, for you and you only. Lifting one leg over his desk, he gives you a perfect view of his round ass, puckered hole already clenching in anticipation. Two of his long fingers push past his lips, tongue sloppily covering them in saliva that he plans on using as lube. Those same fingers, now covered in a layer of spit, rub soft circles over his puckered hole, lightly teasing and prodding while he gets used to the sensation.
One finger finally pushes past his ring muscle, a wanton moan escaping his pretty lips. The sound is heavenly and you just want to hear more. To see more. Slightly parting your legs, you let your right hand travel up your thigh and toy with the hem of your lacy panties, enjoying Yuuji’s reaction. The little display you’re making for him is really fuelling him further. Not even a minute later, he’s sinking a second finger in his greedy hole, sounding more and more desperate, each moan and whimper a treasure for you.
Spitting on the dildo again, this time nasty and unabashed, mind hazy from lust, Yuuji finally positions himself over the pink dildo, the tip resting right over his hole. One more glance in your direction and he sinks down an inch, the tip pushing past his muscle, the stretch immediately filling his eyes with more tears. But he ignores the weird feeling, ignores the pain, and simply focuses on the pleasure. The more he sinks down on the dildo, the more you toy with your pussy, panties now pushed aside to give him a better view. Fingers sliding up and down the slit, collecting your essence and smearing it all over, gentle circles with your middle finger over your clit.
Halfway down the dildo, Yuuji opts to slide back up, and then down again, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, mouth hanging open in pleasure. He was not expecting it to feel this good, the fullness making him slightly dizzy. One hand gently strokes over his sensitive cock, the feeling making him shiver.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” In response to his puzzled look you simply nod over to his laptop, reminding him that he is supposed to be writing an assignment. “Just write an essay on any topic that we’ve covered in class… or did you not retain anything from our classes because you were too busy being a pervert?” At these words, you slide two fingers inside you, knuckles deep, pumping them in and out slowly.
After staring dumbfoundedly for a few seconds, his shaky fingers pull the laptop closer and he begins to type. It’s adorable to watch him struggle to remain concentrated on the task at hand, with the dildo filling him up perfectly and with the sounds you’re making as you fuck yourself on your fingers… poor Yuuji can barely keep it together. Even though he’s sunk all the way down on the dildo and knows he’s supposed to stay still, he can’t help the little thrusts of his hips against the silicone cock.
Around 10 minutes has passed since Yuuji started his attempt at writing an essay, but it’s becoming more and more difficult for him to focus, not with the tip of the dildo pressing up against his prostate, making his thighs quiver and his breath hitch. He needs relief; he can’t write like this. And you know this all too well, your own desire taking over you completely, temporarily forgetting how you got in this situation in the first place. Screw it.
“P-please, professor.. I need..”
Before he can finish his sentence you’re already on his lap, lips pressed to his in a heated, sloppy kiss. You can’t hold it in anymore; you want to feel him. His lips feel soft against yours, but his tongue feels sinister as it dances against yours. Moving his laptop to the side, you sit on top of the desk and spread your legs for Yuuji, pussy glistening with your slick and on full display for the boy.
“An orgasm or two might put you in my good graces?” you suggest and spread your pussy lips with two fingers, watching as Yuuji practically drools over the sight. He doesn’t need to be asked twice, still impaled on the dildo he bends forward, tongue darting out to lick a stripe from your entrance to your clit. The taste of you drives him feral, lips latching onto your clit and sucking hard, mouth hard at work to coax more moans out of you. To taste more of you. To him, you’re truly intoxicating. As his tongue works feverishly against your folds, constant praise falls from your lips. That’s my good boy, fuck yes, right t-there.
“Move your hips, ride that cock baby boy.” You’re so close to your own release, it’s suffocating you. A few more flicks of his tongue over your sensitive bud and you’re coming undone under him, legs shaking violently as your mind floods with overwhelming pleasure and your pussy flutters. Yuuji’s greedy mouth is ready to swallow all your slick, hungrily lapping at your cunt, the obscene squelch of his tongue against your wetness filling the room.
Pushing him away just enough to sit back in his lap, your hands wrap around his length, pumping it languidly. His hips slow down but he doesn’t dare stop moving up and down the dildo, he doesn’t dare disobey you. Catching his lips in another kiss you guide his cock to your slit, rubbing it up and down, collecting all your arousal. Slowly you sink down on his cock, eyes rolling back at the feeling of his fat meaty cock stretching you out, your tight hole hugging him perfectly.
And Yuuji could cum from this alone, from finally feeling your warmth and wetness around him, squeezing him for all he’s worth. You feel so much better than he could ever imagine. With you hovering over his lap enough to give him space to bounce up and down, impaling himself on the silicone cock, and simultaneously drilling upwards into your welcoming heat. The feeling is so overwhelming; his movements are sloppy, and he’s constantly babbling incoherent words, hands gripping your waist tight enough to bruise. And as you look down at him all you can think about is how gorgeous he looks all fucked out.
Your hand snakes down your body, middle finger expertly rubbing tight circles over your clit, pussy immediately clamping down even harder on his dick. A second orgasm was approaching and Yuuji can feel that, the way your walls flutter around him, how much louder you’re getting. All he has to do is hold off his orgasm for a while more. He angles his hips and pistons up into your cavern, the tip of his leaky cock ramming against your cervix in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Right there is all you can repeat, teetering on the edge of your second orgasm, a few good strokes being the last push you need before you stumble over and drown in the pleasure once more. Yuuji follows right after, sinking all the way down on the dildo and pushing you down his length to completely bottom out inside you as he empties his balls, thick cum spurting right against your cervix. You can feel how full of cum you are, the thick sticky substance dribbling down your thigh.
After a few moments of silence, the two of you just staying close and trying to catch your breath, you finally speak.
“You know, you will actually have to write at least one essay for me for that extra credit, consider this just your… motivation to actually get it done. At the end of the day, I’d rather you not fail, Yuuji.”
You did it again, you used his first name. The softness to your voice makes his heart twist, and he knows he has to live up to the promise he made.
“And this stays between us.”
You didn’t really need to tell him that, he knows how badly things could turn out if anyone found out, but he gives you his word. He doesn’t dare say anything else out of fear that anything he says might ruin the magic. One wrong move could sully this moment forever, and this is a memory he’ll cherish for a long time. So he tucks his flaccid cock in his boxers and puts on his clothes, gathering his things and heading for the door. He pauses for a second and turns around for one last look.
“Miss L/N.. uhm, thank you for giving me an opportunity for that extra credit. And uh, I don’t mean the sex. The actual extra credit. I know I can be difficult, so I appreciate this a lot.”
You smile and wave him off, telling him there’s nothing to be thankful for. You remind him to hand in his essay before the following Friday and you say your goodbyes.
There’s a slight empty feeling budding inside you, missing the attention of the younger boy, but ultimately you realize you had completely forgotten about the stress of the week; and there was an undeniable pep in Yuuji’s step as he made his way home that night... Today was truly a good day, for both of you.
𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑! I do not own any of the characters or people mentioned in my work. these are works of pure fiction that do not reflect the views, opinions, or actions of any person, real or fictional. Furthermore, all characters I write for [thirsts, drabbles, fics, etc.] are aged up to 21 or older – they are adults with adult characteristics presented and written in adult contexts.
ʚ warnings: tw dubcon, tw alcohol consumption, tw weed mention, implied public sex, a bit lot of humiliation, compromising photos, not beta read, hammock
ʚ submission for the wet hot slimeball collab hosted by @bastardblvd :]
ʚ AN: well that was a fun little one hour writing challenge! as usual, thank you to merc and cassie for organizing and continuously giving me motivation and inspiration to create
The music blares as Denki fills everyone’s shot glasses with tequila. His best mate and emergency get-out-after-a-hookup contact Shinsou “the smoke” Hitoshi sitting next to him on the table cradling a fat joint, sitting amongst the rest of the infamous UA slut gang — Touya “the slut elder” Todorki, Katsuki “anger issues” Bakugo, Ochako “the crime lord” Uraraka, Mina “the dominatrix” Ashido, Sero “infinity rizz” Hanta and Eijirou “the cumbucket” Kirishima, the notoriously hung fratboy host of this party.
The third round of “never have I ever” is now ready to begin as Ochako lifts her shot glass above her head, commanding attention.
“Never have I ever… had sex mid day at a beach party…” The brunette looks pointedly at her chair neighbour. “And filmed it.”
With a wolfish smile Touya downs his shot followed by a hissing sound as the liquid burns down his throat. Surprisingly (but not really) Kiri also downs his shot, and with a smug smile — so does Ochako.
“The way this keeps going I’m gonna be shitfaced in under ten minutes.” Touya complains, slamming his shot glass down at the table, but the rest of the slut gang just laugh. They know he’d be shitfaced in ten minutes regardless of the game, as poor Touya has too many daddy issues to not attempt to drown them in booze.
“Mate, I gotta know, fer science n’ all — what is the worst or weirdest place you’ve had sex?” Denki asks with curiosity spaekling in his eyes.
He’d never admit it but he looks up to Touya in a very sick and twisted way. It’s his biggest wish to one day have a body count as high as his. That scoreboard hidden in his locker at Slimebucks mocks him daily and reminds him of his noble goal to be a bigger slut than Touya himself.
After a pause to think, the eldest Todoroki confidently states:
“On a fucking hammock. The logistics are just..” Touya can only shake his head in disapproval as the memory flashes before his eyes. He shudders.
Kirishima lands a heavy hand on Touya’s back.
“Can’t be that bad, can it?”
There is a horrified look in Touya’s eyes as he clasps dramatically Kirishima’s hand in his, pulling him close to his face as if to emphasize his point.
“Do not. Ever. Attempt. To fuck. On a hammock.” The black haired man pours himself another tequila shot and downs it. “Learn from my mistakes.”
These words of wisdom resonate in Denki’s head long after the game of “never have I ever” ended with Touya emptying the contents of his stomach under the table, unable to keep his liquor down any longer.
Learn from my mistakes.
But Denki could do more! He could better Touya’s mistakes, he had the confidence that he could pull of what Touya himself couldn’t. Moving through the crowds of people dancing he spots something from the corner of his eye — a hammock.
Devious grin plastered on his face, the blonde quickly gathers up the unoccupied hammock, considering the logistics of Kirishima’s place and figuring out the best at least semi-private place he could hang up the hammock and the easiest prey he can catch to test said hammock out.
Twenty or so minutes later he has the hammock set up behind a shed and he proceeds to the second part of a plan — finding himself a pretty pussy to fuck. And as if the Gods of Sex heard his prayers, the crowd seems to part like the Red Sea opening a path to you — the shy, but now quite drunk new girl.
Within seconds he has an arm around your waist, twirling you and pushing you close to him as he dances right behind you, smugly enjoying the feel of your ass grinding against him.
“Didin’t think you’d make it today, pretty girl.” He whispers in your ear, partly to be seductive, partly because it was loud as balls.
“Mina convinced me, said Kiri throws the wildest paries and it’s apparently illegal to miss them.” You giggle and with your confidence levels raised by the alcohol you turn, tits pressed to Denki’s chest and arms draped around his shoulders.
“Well thank fuck for Mina, huh.”
It’s easy to charm you, a gentle touch here, a whisper and a chaste kiss there, under half an hour and Denki had you wrapped around his finger, pulling you by the wrist as you giggle and follow him behind the shack where he had set up.
Resting in a sort of sitting position on the hammock he beckons you closer with two fingers, and chock full of giddiness and alcohol you follow, letting him wrap his hands around your middle, his face resting between your tits as a playful hand squeezes your ass that is deliciously spilling out of your jean shorts.
The alcohol has made you pliable, a cute ragdoll for him to play with. Skimpy top pulled roughly down to expose your pretty tits to him, he bites and sucks your nipples, taking whatever he wants from you as the hammock swings back and fort gently suspended in the air. The more he squishes your soft flesh, the more eager he gets. Fuck, it had been a while since his last conquest.
The scoreboard in his locker mocks him once more.
When he feels your hand unbuttoning his jeans and reaching for his now fully hard cock he cannot contain himself anymore — he needs to feel your clench around his cock now.
Forgetting about the location and unusual bed replacement he’s using, he confidently (too confidently) pulls you onto his lap, only for the hammock to betray him and twist under the weight of both of you, gravity adding to this nightmare scenario as you both end up on the grass face first.
You crawl out from the tangles mess, rubbing at your face where it had made contact with the grass and cover yourself up in the process, suddenly way too sober and aware of your actions.
Cock out and ass in the air as his neck strains to support his upper body, Denki is still tangled in the hammock, groaning in his futile attempt to stand upright and far away from the wretched hammock.
A bright flash startles both of you followed by loud cheering and laughter. “I knew you were gonna try that, you fucking dweeb.” Touya laughs, snapping a few more pictures before Denki gets hismelf out from the compromising position, tucking his dick back into his jeans as quickly as he could. “Listen to me next time — don’t fuck on a god damn hammock.”
𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑! I do not own any of the characters or people mentioned in my work. these are works of pure fiction that do not reflect the views, opinions, or actions of any person, real or fictional. Furthermore, all characters I write for [thirsts, drabbles, fics, etc.] are aged up to 21 or older – they are adults with adult characteristics presented and written in adult contexts.
pairing // ghost!Baji Keisuke x medium!reader x Chifuyu Matsuno
summary // after his death Baji finds himself stuck in the realm of the living. he’s firmly decided to cockblock his best friend Chifuyu, that is until he decides to seek the help of a medium to figure out what the heck is happening.
alternatively: a threesome with a ghost????
word count // 7k
tags // supernatural, inaccurate representation of a medium, light swearing, angst?, questionably happy ending?, threesome, oral (both m! and f! receiving), spitroasting, anal, double penetration, squirting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, cum eating, spit, praise, multiple pet names (princess, kitten, good girl, pretty girl, etc.), not choking but gentle throat holding (idk), throat fucking, there is some baji x fuyu action, feelings
AN // hello people of the internet, I'm finally reposting my fics! hence why, if this fic seems familiar—do not be alarmed, it was first posted on my old blog :] posting this one first because it is the first one that I was actually really proud of, and because I'm still feral for baji. you can also find it here on ao3. cute mdni banner by @/cafekitsune
What’s a spirit stuck in the realm of the living to do with all their free time?
Take care of their friends, obviously.
Baji Keisuke left the world of the living far too young. He wasn’t ready to leave, nor was he ready for the realization that he never really left. One moment there was darkness, and the next… he could see his own body, pale and bloodied, cradled by a crying Chifuyu.
Dying was painful, but seeing this hurt more.
Baji’s never been one to dwell too long on things; he kind of just accepted his new reality—he was a ghost. Stuck with his appearance as a 19 year old, he existed outside of everybody’s field of perception. Outside of anyone’s knowledge.
So the best that he could do was to at least stay close to the ones he loved. To watch them from afar despite the fact that he was sitting right next to them.
He’d watch over his mom: observe as she always left his favorite food by the altar each night. Watch as she flipped through old albums, smiling at his baby pictures. He’d listen to her talk to herself, sometimes even to him. He always found that rather funny, that she’d just randomly start talking to him, telling him all about her day, and finish off with a little “you’re not even here, are you?” as she smiles fondly at another old picture.
He wished he could tell her, let her know. Hey mom, I’m right here! He’s tried many times, and each attempt ended with failure as his hands simply passed through her.
Aside from keeping an eye out for his mother, he also took the time to check in on his friends. While his mother was more active during the day, his friends were more lively at night. He always felt relieved that, while a lot of things changed after his death, at least they didn’t spiral out of control. At least nobody left. At least nobody else got hurt.
The two people he’d check on the most were Mikey, the leader of Toman and his childhood friend, and Chifuyu, his ex vice-captain and best friend.
He followed Mikey around for a year, concerned about his mental state and the people he surrounded himself with, but luckily the rest of the gang were still there to take care of it. It was kind of nice to see Mikey finally admit he needs help, to admit he isn’t as invincible as everybody believed he was. So on that end, Baji was satisfied—he no longer felt the need to follow his every move. Mikey was in safe hands. And so were the rest of the gang—they’d all stick together through thick and thin and he loved that about them.
But then there was the issue of Chifuyu. While his mental state was a tad more stable than Mikey’s (even though he did cry his eyes out for three months straight) and his physical strength and fighting ability were reassuring, Fuyu was always a little… lost.
Having never been able to read people well, except for maybe Baji, Chifuyu was sometimes taken advantage of. While he may act tough, Baji knew he was kind and helpful, always giving too much of himself to others.
It was about 2 years after Baji’s death that Fuyu got into dating again, if you could even call it that. The green eyed boy was no longer blonde—instead his hair was now black (like Baji’s) and slicked back. He was a little taller, a little more muscle than before. He looked like a child no more, yet he still acted like a child sometimes, so how could Keisuke not worry about him?
The first girl Chifuyu ever decided to go out with was bad news, and Baji knew it at first glance. A stuck up, shallow, arrogant little girl that lived off of daddy’s money. Baji never wrapped his head around why she was interested in Fuyu, nor why he gave her the time of day, but the fact of the matter was that Baji didn’t like it.
Oh, he hated her with a burning passion. Every time Chifuyu's phone would light up with her name on the caller ID, Baji would get so pissed that the room temperature would drop by five degrees. Every time she wraps her hands around Chifuyu’s neck Baji would glare at her so hard it would make the lights in the room flicker.
His dissatisfaction with this girl grew more and more over time, and with each passing day he could notice the little things his anger caused. So he experimented with it, he focused his anger on objects, rather than dispersing it all around him, and it worked! He could move objects, little by little, and he could fuck with the lights and heating if he wanted to.
So at some point, Baji became obsessed with chasing off girls he didn’t approve of. Under the pretense that his friend deserves better of course. He later dropped that pretense and faced the hard cold truth—if I can’t get my dick wet, neither can Fuyu.
He’d scare off girl after girl by making objects rattle every time his best friend has his arm draped around a girl’s shoulder, swinging doors open left and right if they’re about to kiss, turning the lights on and off whenever things get spicier. It was all fun and games for the bored ghost boy, but Chifuyu was getting desperate.
It’d been too long since he’d had a nice warm cunt wrapped around his cock. Too fucking long. And what the fuck was up with his house? He’d never been one to believe in ghosts or anything supernatural, but the weird shit was starting to get to him.
So, incredibly desperate now, Chifuyu decided to seek help. What kind of help he wasn’t really sure, but he was angrily typing away at his laptop, trying to find exorcists or mediums or anyone who could fucking explain what the hell was happening under his roof.
The first two he had invited over were complete fakes: telling him they sensed a presence of some sort, chanting shit in a different language that Chifuyu could only presume to be Latin. They both said his house was “cleansed” now, but alas not even a week later when he had another girl ever in his apartment, the exact same things happened.
He was losing hope until he got a ping on his phone, a reply from someone under one of his posts asking for help.
“Hey, I saw your post online that you’re experiencing some... Supernatural occurrences at home. I was wondering if I could maybe take a look myself? Free of charge if I find nothing and am unable to help you, of course.”
He stared at his phone long and hard. Most people who answered his plea for help online started their conversation with their payment rate first, explicitly saying “no refunds,” but this person was offering help free of charge provided they are unable to help? That was new. Refreshing. Plus the idea of not paying was very appealing to him so he had nothing to lose—he immediately typed up a response, making an appointment with this medium and giving them his home address.
And without a doubt, the following day at 6pm there’s a timid knock on his front door. He saunters over and opens the door to be greeted by the most blinding smile he’s ever laid eyes upon.
“Hi, I’m Y/N, we spoke over text about your problem with possible supernatural activity in your home.”
You extend your hand to him, and, nervously, he slots his hand in yours, shaking it lightly while introducing himself. He invites you in and awkwardly offers to take your coat. He wasn’t expecting a cute girl around his age, but he wasn’t complaining.
Leading you down the hall into the living room, Chifuyu rambles on and on about the weird stuff that’s been happening, explaining how he’s already called multiple maintenance people to examine his pipes, heating, electrical wiring and so on and found absolutely nothing.
Continuing his little rant, the green-eyed man didn't even notice that you had stopped by the door frame, staring right at the empty space on his couch. Well, to Chifuyu it looked empty, to you… it looked occupied by a slightly younger yet taller man with long dark hair and golden eyes that seemed to pierce through you.
Without a doubt, there were all the telltale signs that he was, in fact, an apparition. He looked pale, almost translucent in the afternoon light flowing through the window behind him, a faint glow to him that made him look like a fallen angel. You could feel his aura all around you, too—the same skin prickling feeling you always had when in contact with a spirit.
The long-haired man lazily yawns and scratches his butt, looking particularly bored as if this happens on a daily basis. He shifts on the couch, folding his hands in front of his chest and looking you up and down, as if evaluating you and deciding what course of action to take.
“Hey, are you okay?” the Chifuyu’s voice brings you back to reality, and you tear your gaze away from the apparition across from you.
“Um, hey, so… did you know anyone with, um, long, dark hair and bright yellow eyes? Kinda mean looking?”
At this, Baji makes a face, half surprised she described him so well, half offended at the last part of her statement.
Chifuyu’s eyes turn comically large.
“How... How did you..?”
He can’t even fully form the sentence, quickly glancing around the room to see if there are any pictures of his dead friend laying around. She can’t know about him, she’s a stranger, and he’s been gone for a few years now. So how?
“Well, uh, he’s kind of chilling on your couch right now? Right, okay, I know this is weird, and you probably don’t believe me, I don’t blame you, most people don’t.” Your voice goes a little quieter at the end, a kind of sadness looming over you, but you shake it off quickly. “I’ve been able to see spirits since I was a child, I know, bonkers, I can’t explain how or why, but I do, and this guy is currently looking as surprised as you are.”
Chifuyu looks at the couch again, eyes glistening and full of longing, hands balled into fists at his side. But he couldn’t, so then why is he so intent on believing? Why is he so hopeful?
You don’t miss the little glint of wistfulness in his eyes, the desperation clinging onto his lips as he struggles to choose his next words.
“Can you… talk to spirits?”
“Yeah.. I can, provided they want to talk to me too.”
You look at the man across from you again and smile weakly. You can’t always know if they’re malicious spirits or not; sometimes they could get real bad, but this one, despite looking feral, didn’t give off the impression he was malicious.
“S’what, ya can see me? Hear me?” Baji spoke and the gruffness in his voice almost made you forget how to breathe.
You don’t meet good-looking spirits often. You meet the ghosts of elderly men and women who want to look after their children and grandchildren a little longer, you meet young, fragile kids, still confused and not understanding what happened to them. But never before had you met a handsome young ghost that smirked at you as if he knew all your secrets.
“Yea, I can see and hear you.” You smile at him, big and bright, and he feels blinded by it. Yet also so drawn to it, like some sort of heavenly light, a beacon calling him home. “Can I ask you for your name?”
“Why? Does my name give you, like, powers over me? Are ya gonna exorcise me or some shit?”
He grins and stalks forward, closing the distance between you by simply walking through whatever objects stand in his way. Unconsciously you take a step back, not even noticing the bewildered look on Chifuyu’s face.
“I can’t exorcise you, I’m not ordained. I can just… perceive you and talk to you.”
You gulp and your visible nervousness makes something in Baji shift. He grins down at you, his larger frame towering over your much smaller one, and you feel so exposed under his gaze. Chifuyu’s voice is what drags you back down to Earth again.
“Wait, are you for real right now? What is happening?” He’s confused and concerned and so, so hopeful. You look at him and smile reassuringly.
“Yeah, he just got a little closer than I expected, but I can hear and see him, hasn’t told me his name yet though. Kinda rude.”
You arch a brow in the direction of the pale ghost again, and he fucking laughs. A whole-hearted, loud roar of a laugh, as if this is the most amusing thing that has happened to him in years. It probably is.
“Baji Keisuke, what’s yer name sweetheart?”
You repeat his name slowly, liking the way it rolls off your tongue and you give him your name. Meanwhile, Chifuyu is going crazy next to you, barely containing himself.
“Baji? Did you say… Baji? Oh God, please tell me you’re not fucking with me, I swear to God..”
You cut him off by placing a hand on his shoulder. You ask him to close his eyes, take a deep breath, and he obeys. He looks shaken: arms stiffly sitting by his sides. There’s a visible tremble in his hands, and you notice he’s not even daring to take a breath.
The sight of him like this tugs at your heart, and your chest feels impossibly tight. Your fingers itch to touch him, to hold him close and soothe him, but the rational side of you tells you otherwise. Whatever his relationship to the other man is, he really, really misses him. The least you could do is try and give him a little glimpse. As tiring as it may be to maintain.
You take a firm hold of his hand which feels icy compared to yours and you give him a light squeeze as you tell him to open his eyes again. And when he does… tears brim at the corner of his eyes at the sigh of his best friend.
“Baji…”
It’s a half whisper, half sob, and you have to hold his hand tighter so he doesn’t leap forward in an attempt to hug the spirit.
“Can he… see me?” The spirit looks equally as hopeful as his friend, and you nod in confirmation, reveling in the fact that you were able to bring this small happiness to them.
“He should be able to hear you too.”
And before you know it, they’re both crying. Sadness, relief, bewilderment or pure nostalgia—you don’t know, but you’re determined to give them all the time you can to catch up.
They talk happily for hours, Baji goes on and on about how he just can’t seem to leave. Chifuyu just apologizes over and over about being too weak and unable to save him. The long-haired man just shrugs it off and offers a big fanged smile in return. They talk about so many things, and finally Chifuyu asks the question that actually led to this situation unfurling.
“So… all the lights flickering and the noises were all… from you? Why?”
“Ah.. heh, okay don’t be mad.”
Baji speaks in between little chuckles, amused with himself and happy that as a ghost he can’t be touched. His eyes crinkle into little crescent moons as he chirps away his clumsy explanation, elaborating that at some point he just got pissy and decided that if he can’t fuck, his friend can’t eiether.
“You’re… joking right?”
Chifuyu looks like he’s about to rampage and yell, but he notices your head wobbling, eyes lidded and tired. You looked exhausted and pale so he shook you a little, worry painted on his face.
“Hey? Are you okay?”
“Yeah it’s just.. A little tiring. It’s fine though, please continue!”
Baji shakes his head and speaks before Chifuyu can. “Ya need to rest, dollface. Breaks m’heart seeing you like this. It’ll be fine, I got to talk to my friend today, maybe this is what helps me cross over to the other side or whatever.”
His smile is reassuring, but a part of you wants to give them more time. Unfortunately, your body disagrees with your heart, and you start feeling very faint.
“Hey, why don’t you lay down for a bit, I don’t want to send you off like this. It’s fine, just rest your head a little until you feel better.”
Chifuyu had let go of your hand, losing the ability to see his friend, and gently nudged you down on the couch, placing a soft pillow under your head. You shouldn’t be falling asleep like this at a stranger’s house, but your body gives out before you could argue with yourself.
You stir and slowly blink the tiredness from your eyes. Rising a little, you take in the room and in pieces it all comes back to you. The job, the green-eyed cutie, his hot ghost friend: the entire ordeal.
“Finally awake, princess?”
Baji’s voice comes right behind you, and you almost fall off the couch in surprise. In absolute reflex Baji reaches over to grab you by the waist and prevent you from toppling over and it takes him a minute to realize.
He is, in fact, holding you right now. He squeezes at your waist a little, and you look equally as dumbfounded.
“Am I?”
“You are.”
“Holy shit.” Chifuyu’s voice gets you both out of your daze as he stares wide-eyed at the both of you. Suddenly, he can see. Without even having to hold your hand.
After some thinking, you explain to them that this has never happened before, but it’s most likely some sort of side effect for keeping them able to see and talk to each other for so long, combined with the intensity of the feelings they all shared. You have no idea how long this will last, but you’re willing to stay over for the entire duration of it.
It’s been established that Baji can touch you and you can feel him, the question is does the same apply to his friend? They both look nervous as they approach each other, holding out a single finger and they gasp when they feel the pads of their fingers collide.
Before you know it, Chifuyu is being hurled into a tight bear hug and nearly spun around in the room. It’s cute to see how much they still care for each other. You spend the rest of the evening asking about their friendship, learning how they became friends, how they were both in a gang, how close they used to be. How devastating it was to lose each other.
All the while you notice you’re not getting tired at all. Which is an unusual yet welcomed change. You really like these two, you like that they’re probably some of the first people to genuinely believe you when you say you can see ghosts and not just kick you to the curb because of it. You like how cheerful they are. You enjoy their refreshing energy, and you better not be lying to yourself by saying you don’t enjoy the little pet names Baji seems so intent on giving you.
When two o’clock rolls around, the effect is still in full force, but Chifuyu feels awful for making you stay, so he offers to drive you home instead. You try to argue that you can drive yourself, but he insists. Quite frankly, he’s just hoping you have a reason to come by again, even if it’s just to pick up your car. But you exchange numbers and promise to talk again and hang out soon.
“Hopefully Baji won’t chase me away like all the other girls.”
“Mm, don’t ya worry about it angel, I’ve taken quite the liking to you.”
He smiles from the back seat of the car, and you all laugh.
As you lay in bed that night, you really hope you could spend more time with them.
As if your prayers have been heard, you do get to spend more time with them. Surprisingly and with no explanation at all, the side effects are still in full force, and you’re both still able to see and touch the handsome spirit.
The longer the effects are in place, the closer the three of you seem to get. Seductive jokes are thrown around, and Chifuyu picks up his friend's habit of referring to you with cute little names. He’s particularly fond of kitten, and you’re particularly fond of the butterflies the title gives you.
With all this flirting and teasing, it’s no surprise really when you end up on Chifuyu’s lap with your back pressed to his chest, Baji towering over you, his voice a few octaves lower than it usually is when he speaks to you.
“Aw, are we makin’ ya flustered, princess?”
His index finger traces your jaw as his eyes are practically glued to your lips and the idea alone makes your thighs press together. Chifuyu’s hands boldly roam your lower half, one hand sliding on the inner side of your thigh.
“You know, all you have to do is say stop and we will.”
Chifuyu’s breath ghosts over the side of your neck and honestly, you don’t want them to stop. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about this, imagined how their hands would feel on your skin while laying in bed late at night. Burying your fingers in your pussy until your thighs are shaking, wishing it was their cocks instead.
So, when you feel Chifuyu’s hands softly squeeze your breasts and glide up to gently wrap around your throat, not squeezing but just holding you there, you can’t help the little whimper that escapes.
All Baji can manage in response is a feral growl, and he’s sinking to his knees between your legs spread over his best friend’s. Chifuyu’s hand never leaves your throat, but his other free hand takes your chin ever so gently, turning you to face him. He’s looking at you with those big green eyes, silently asking permission to kiss you, but you’re impatient. You crash your lips onto his in a messy kiss, nipping at his bottom lip when he doesn’t give you access to his mouth fast enough. Eventually, though, he obliges, tongue meeting yours in a battle for dominance that you’re currently winning. That is, until you feel Baji lifting your skirt and pressing two fingers to your clothed slit, and you lose all your composure, moaning into Chifuyu’s mouth.
Baji is holding your legs open, his icy hands gripping your plush thighs as he feasts at the sight of your panties dampening from his ministrations. All the while Chifuyu is holding your arms in place, kissing you like you’re all the oxygen he needs, like you’re life-saving water to a man lost in an endless desert. Stuck between these two men, any other thoughts have long since left you. All you know is you want more.
Your neediness seeps out in the form of moans and your hips wiggling against Baji’s every touch, so he happily obliges and gives you exactly what you want. Hooking a finger over your panties, he rips them off of you in one swift motion, reveling in the beauty of the little squeal you give him in response. And your pussy is as pretty as he imagined it, all puffy and pink, so wet and needy for his touch. He licks his lips and gives you another look, waiting for permission to have his way with you and all you can manage is a weak nod.
Wasting no more time he delves in, mouth latching on your sensitive clit, tongue flicking over it in a well practiced motion. Every lick sends a shiver down your spine and coaxes wanton moans out of you. Chifiyu doesn’t stay behind either, his much warmed hands sliding under your shirt and groping at your breasts, toying with the supple flesh, tweaking and tugging on your pert nipples. His mouth was now busy sucking purple bruises into the soft skin on your neck, and every little motion from the boys was driving you mad.
The dedication and effort they give you, the affectionate praises they shower you in, combined with the pleasure they’re giving you it drives you closer and closer to your high. And they know. The way your body tenses, the uneven heave of your breasts, and your wimpers getting louder and louder: you’re so close.
One of Chifuyu’s hands is wrapped around your throat, gently applying the tiniest of pressure, while his other hand slides down your stomach to rub thigh circles over your clit while Baji finally replaces his tongue with two thick fingers. He pushes them past your entrance, and your eyes roll to the back of your skull in ecstasy as he pumps them in and out of your cunt. Building faster and faster, your orgasm takes you by surprise when it finally comes. It washes over you in tidal waves, drowning you in pleasure and the two men in complete madness. In the need to have you.
You don’t have time to come down from your high as you’re being placed on all fours, Chifuyu taking his place behind you, and Baji to your front tangling his hands in your hair. There’s no need for him to tell you what he wants; you’re already running your shaky hands over his hard length, gently squeezing through the fabric. You briefly struggle with the buttons on his pants, but finally you manage to pull the jeans down and free his cock. God, his dick is gorgeous. Thick and veiny, his tip now angry red from neglect with pearly beads of precum sliding down the shaft.
Behind you Chifuyu is sliding his cock up and down your slit, taking his sweet time before slotting himself where you really need him. His cock is not as thick, but it’s long and slightly curved, pretty pink and eager to feel your walls clenching around it. Baji’s grip on your hair thightens when he notices you’re paying attention only to his friend. A little jealous and possessive, he taps the head of his cock against your plump lips.
“Don’t forget m’here too angel, or I’ll assume the effects wore off, and I can’t have that now that I’ve had a taste of you.”
You look up at him, begging him to stuff your mouth full with your eyes alone. You stick out your tongue for him, as if to show you haven’t forgotten about him at all. Simultaneously, Chifuyu finally sheathes his cock in you—all the way to the hilt, hips flush against your ass—and you moan, eyes crossing from the pleasure. You look obscene, and Baji takes the opportunity to fill your pretty mouth with his cock.
Oh, and you can’t take all of him in, he’s so thick and heavy against your tongue. You moan around his length, and drool dribbles down your chin. They take you like that, Chifuyu thrusting his hips into your heat, marveling at the warmth and tightness of your cunt, praise dripping from his lips like honey. So good for me baby, just like that. God you take me so well, fuck.
Baji lets you pick your pace on his length, and you make a mental note of the way his cock twitches every time you take him in deeper, the head of his cock bumping the back of your throat. You enjoy the way he looks like he’s about to crumble under the pleasure, so you do it again and again, taking him down your throat, the walls constricting around his length. Baji’s head falls back, eyes shut in pleasure as you coax him to the edge.
“Fuck, princess you better fucking swallow, don’t let a drop fall out of your pretty lips, ‘kay?”
He looks down at you almost lovingly: his pale near-translucent skin slightly flushed, cheeks dusted with pink, his pretty golden eyes now darkened by the lust clouding his mind. You want to confirm you understand him, but his large hands cup the back of your head and you’re no longer in control of the pace. Now he’s fucking into your pliant mouth, every thrust making you gag a little around his girth, tears brimming at the corner of your eyes. It hurts, but it also feels so fucking good—the pleasant sting causing pleasure to course through your veins like a drug. And you’re addicted to the feeling.
Then you feel him twitch against your tongue, his eyes closing and muscles going rigid as he finally reaches his climax. Thick ropes of sticky sweet cum slide down your throat and you do your best to swallow it all. You don’t even bother thinking about how this is possible considering he’s a ghost, you don’t question it, you just greedily take everything he has to give you. His hand caresses your cheek and he whispers a quiet that’s my good girl before slumping down on the couch in front of you, simply observing as his friend rams his cock into you.
Chifuyu had gone a little slower while Baji was fucking your throat but now that you mouth was free, he was hoping to hear your pretty little moans again. Now his hands cradle through your hair, and he pulls you up, angling you impossibly close to him, pistoning his hips just the right way so his long cock hits that spot that makes you see white.
His pace picks up and the praise is replaced with curses. He’s so lost in the feeling of you he almost doesn't notice Baji closing the distance between them and slotting his lips against his. His hips falter for a second, his brain processing what’s happening but his lips respond before his brain can. One hand is holding your hip, as his hips slow down their movement, his other hand cupping his friend's cheek as he kisses him back with so much love, so many unsaid words finally making their way to Baji.
You can’t see them, but you can hear Chifuyu moan into the taller man’s mouth. It’s shaky, and breathy, almost as if he’s tearing up. Baji’s name is like a mantra on his lips, a plea, a promise. You crave to turn your head and catch even just a glimpse, but you decide against it, not wanting to intrude on the raw and intimate moment between them.
“Baji...”
“I know. Me too.”
That’s all the response Keisuke gives as he steals another kiss from his friend and gently nudges his hips in a hint to keep fucking you. So he does, hips gaining back their speed in no time, and you mewl under him, completely dazed from the pleasure. Warm hands sneak down your sides, and his deft fingers find your clit to once more rub tight circles against the sensitive nub, sending waves of pleasure over you.
“Fuck I can’t move if you clamp around my dick like that, kitten, f-fuck… are you gonna cream all over my cock?”
He’s bent forward, whispering in your ear each word punctuated with a grunt or a pant. He’s also close but he needs to make you cum first. He needs to feel you cream on him even if it’s the last thing he does. So he staves off his own orgasm in favor of yours, nibbling on your earlobe and whispering filth into your ear, practically begging you to let him feel you come undone for him.
It doesn’t take long for the coil in your stomach to finally snap, a second orgasm crashing over you and bringing you to high heaven. He doesn’t stop moving, fucking you through your high and the sheer tightness of your cunt as your walls spasm around him is what pushed him over the finish line. With a loud groan his hips lose their rhythm and he paints your insides white with his hot seed, staying sheathed deep inside you in order to keep all of his cum in you.
Fuck, you feel like you’re on cloud nine, basking in the glory of your orgasm but not for long. As soon as Chifuyu pulls out of you, Baji’s mouth is on your pussy again, lapping away at your folds. You squirm but he holds you tightly in place, dragging the cum from your pussy to your ass, tongue teasingly circling around your puckered hole.
“B-Baji, no.. you can’t, not the—”
You’re cut off by Chifuyu crouching down next to the couch and kissing you again. You don’t have time to protest, honestly maybe you don’t even want to protest because Baji’s tongue feels sinfully good against your ass. The green-eyed man barely gives you time to breathe, lips moving hungrily against yours. It’s sloppy, a mess of teeth clashing and tongues moving against each other. He swallows every sweet moan you have to offer while his fingers tweak and twist your nipples. Baji on the other hand is slowly working your ass open, first only with his tongue, the slick muscle pushing past the thigh hole, coating you with spit and cum mixed together.
His tongue is now replaced by two thick fingers slowly pumping in and out of your ass, making your toes curl and your head spin. You can barely remember how to breathe but you manage to beg for more. To beg for him to go faster, to add more fingers. And he is fascinated by how wicked you are, how pliant and needy, how can he refuse you? He gives you more until you’re sufficiently prepped.
With a slap to your ass Baji announces his work is done, and they once again switch with the other man. Chifuyu pulls you onto his lap, your back flush against his chest, and his cock, once again hard and ready for you, is prodding at your ass. Baji runs a finger through your folds, gathering your slick and cum and using it to lube Fuyu’s cock, stroking his length slowly, teasingly. Suddenly he spits into your cunt, and the obscenity of it all makes you clench around nothing. You want them, you want them so bad.
His spit dribbles down your ass, and Fuyu spreads it against your tighter hole, slowly pushing past the muscle. All the prep you received wasn’t enough though, the stretch is burning and bringing tears to your eyes but you know it’ll feel good, you know they’ll make you feel so good, so you bear with it. Baji takes pity on you and bends down to give soft kitten licks to your puffy clit, teasing you and coaxing you to relax, and you do.
Soon Chifuyu is fully sheathed inside your ass, his fingers leaving bruises on your hips from the tight grip he has on you. Now it was Baji’s turn and you already feel so full you have no idea how you’re going to fit Baji’s thick cock inside you too. As if he can read your mind, he speaks to you softly.
“Don’t you worry pretty girl, you can take us both, I know you can.”
He kisses you so fucking gently as his thick cockhead pushes past your entrance, you could just cry. His soft kisses distract you from the burn of the stretch, Chifuyu’s gentle voice in your ear reminding you how good you’re doing, how well you’re taking them.
Finally, finally they’re both inside you and you feel complete. They give you a little time to properly adjust before they both move in and out of you, somehow completely synchronized and in rhythm. God, it feels so fucking good. Your whole body is on fire and you can’t stop the loud moans coming from you, mixing in with theirs. Every time they move inside of you they can feel their cocks rub against each other between your fluttering walls.
You’re spread open and speared down on both their cocks, now moving fast and hard out of you, and you feel like you’ll explode. Your orgasm approaches, but it feels different, more powerful. You barely have time to warn them, but they keep drilling their hips inside you, battering your insides and hitting all those good spots that make you forget your own name. It builds so fast inside you, the feeling consuming you, and you don’t remember how to breathe.
Then it hits you. You cum so hard, spasming around their hard cocks and there’s liquid squirting out of your pretty cunt. They’re both stunned, the sight rendering them speechless and motionless. When the initial shock is over it turns them fucking feral. Both are now brutally fucking you, Baji’s practically fucking into your cervix, narrowing down on that spot that makes your eyes roll back, and Chifuyu is biting and marking you again, cock sliding in and out of your ass with no resistance.
They both know what they want, they want to make you come undone like that one more fucking time. You’re so fucked out; if they weren’t holding you so tightly you would topple over them. You babble incoherently against their skin, begging without knowing what for, but they don’t disappoint, they give you everything.
The two men kiss once again, hips not faltering once as they bring you to yet another Earth-shattering orgasm, and you squirt again.
They both know you’re at your limit, so they chase their own orgasms, both cumming almost simultaneously and filling your holes with their seeds. When they pull out, a copious amount of cum leaks out of your abused holes. Their eyes rake over your body, as if memorizing every curve and dip of your body, the way their cum is leaking down your thighs and soiling the cushions on the couch.
You’re so spent and tired, you don’t even realize they’ve picked you up and brought you to the bathroom. You vaguely hear water running and assume they’re running a warm bath for you. You’re still in a daze when they wash you, gentle hands caressing your skin and massaging the sore muscles. You just let them take care of you, it’s not like you have the strength to protest anyway.
They wrap you in blankets and kiss you every chance they get, on your cheeks, nose, lips, temples, everywhere. Someone’s hands are on you at all times, even as they struggle to get you dressed in some warm soft clothes, clumsily pulling the oversized sweater over your head. Then you’re carried back to the bed, where you find yourself between the two of them, tightly wrapped in a warm embrace and you finally allow yourself to really sleep as they quietly watch over you.
3:33AM
You stir in your sleep and feel a hand stroking your cheek. You blink slowly at Baji, who is slightly hunched over you, smiling lovingly.
“Hey, what’s up? Where are you going?” you whisper.
“I think I’m ready…”
The sentence knocks the air out of your lungs and suddenly you feel cold. You look up at him, pleading even though you know you don’t have the right to.
“But, Ba-”
“Keisuke. Call me Keisuke. Plus, I already said my goodbye to him.” He looks over at Chifuyu’s sleeping frame and smiles, but there is a tinge of sadness behind his smile. “Take good care of him for me, yea? I trust you.”
You’re graced by another one of his fanged smiles, but that doesn’t stop the tears from streaming down your face. His gentle voice doesn’t help with the feeling that’s piercing your chest, sitting in your heart like broken glass.
“I can’t say goodbye to him again. So, I’m burdening you to tell him. Tell him I’ll be thinking of him wherever I end up. I’ll be thinking of you, too.”
Another peck to your lips. Another tear rolling down your cheeks.
You should be happy for him, that he’s able to go on. That he doesn’t have to be stuck here anymore, being nothing more than an observer as life passes by and his friends grow old.
“Don’t cry sweetheart… You gave me such a precious gift, allowing me to say goodbye, to hug him one more time. To feel you, taste you. I’m the luckiest man alive... Or, wait. Luckiest ghost stuck in this plane of existence?”
His little joke makes you give a watery laugh. You don’t dare speak because your voice will give out.
“Don’t cry angel, no point in spilling tears over the dead.”
As he speaks you notice he’s starting to fade away. You reach up to him, but you can’t touch him anymore, and the realization brings even more tears to your eyes. Your lips tremble, but no words come out as he reaches for you.
All your life you’ve been in contact with lost spirits, and each time they passed through you it would feel devastatingly cold. But now it feels warm.
The last thing you see is his smile.
Your crying is enough to wake Chifuyu. His arms quickly wrap around you and pull you close. You can hear the worry in his voice as he asks what happened, but you can’t reply.
You can’t speak the words.
But he knows. He sighs deeply and kisses your temple, reassuring you that it’s okay. That he knew this was coming.
“He loves you.”
“I know.”
He holds you close, fingers intertwined with yours. You listen to his heartbeat. He pets your hair and places butterfly kisses down your shoulder.
“I’m glad I met you. I hope you’ll stay.”
Every ending is a new beginning.
𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑! I do not own any of the characters or people mentioned in my work. these are works of pure fiction that do not reflect the views, opinions, or actions of any person, real or fictional. Furthermore, all characters I write for [thirsts, drabbles, fics, etc.] are aged up to 21 or older – they are adults with adult characteristics presented and written in adult contexts.
