#Chosoita, is that the ship name?? I blame my entire feed being nothing but Choso for this
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Slight dub-con breeding kink: Choso w/ trans!Yuuji where he wants to be the best big brother he can because Yuuji is all he has right now so he aims to take care of all of Yuuji’s needs.

Choso listens at night, not needing as much sleep as his Yuuji, to his frustrated, hitching gasps. His poor baby brother is trying to get off but can’t, because Yuuji has toys for this bullshittery but he's never been able to use just his fingers to come.

Each night he hears his desperation that makes Choso's body heat and heart ache to help him.

So one night Choso pulls Yuuji against his broader chest, wraps his arms around him and murmurs, “Can I pleasure you, Yuuji?”

Yuuji sputters, babbling ashamed and confused half-words but Choso is patient, breathing in his scent, a spice to it that’s so human, so much more than himself.
He thumbs over his chest, catching a nipple through his sleep shirt and Yuuji squirms, heart hammering under his palm.

“A-are you serious?” Yuuji manages to wheeze out, and Choso nods.

“Please. /Please/, let me take care of you.” He doesn’t bother hiding his desperation, the pain of being apart from him for so long and not even /knowing/.

Yuuji swallows, his whole body trembling with nervous energy that bleeds into his curse that tastes divine.

Finally he replies, words still so sweetly shy, “You uh, it’s probably—it’s hard for me to get off, and uh—I don’t have a…”

Choso hums a short, confused note, prompting Yuuji to further explain.

Yuuji coughs. “You probably have no idea what trans is, huh.”
“I do not. I’m willing to learn.”

Yuuji laughs, high with nervousness that makes his voice crack. He rubs his hands over his face. “Ok. Ok, um.”

Choso is a good big brother. He knows when he needs to take the lead for his siblings. So he pushes past Yuuji’s hesitation, shows him his commitment by dropping his hand to his closed thighs, gently spreading one apart so he can slip the other between his legs.

When he places the flat of his hand against his groin he is stunned to find no bulge, just void space and oh, that's--

Choso’s breath catches, “Oh /Yuuji/.”

Yuuji whines, face still covered in his hands, groans out a mortified, “I know, I know, I’m not—look, please just stop.”

He’s misread his reaction and Choso shakes his head on instinct to deny it. This won’t do, he cannot let his brother feel ashamed for his body.

Choso lifts his arm back to his chest, presses Yuuji bodily closer so he can feel his protective warmth. “Yuuji, you’re a /miracle/.”

Yuuji makes another one of those preciously confused sounds, but Choso’s awe isn’t the point here. He can explain what a gift he is later.

Choso resumes his task, works his palm in quick, light circles over his mound, teasing the beginnings of his pleasure out of him. He tries not to think too hard on the sex he now knows is underneath, what Yuuji could /do/.

Yuuji’s breath stutters again, "Oh wait, shit--"

ohgoshsorry it's short i'll be back later this evening dkdsfkl

IM BACK I didn't like what I had written so I changed it, let's get back to this #chosoita filth

CW: breeding kink (tho it's more implied sorry), AFAB terms for genitals

Yuuji's spine arches, valiantly keeping his hips still for his touch so Choso presses his entire hand firmly against him, making him part his legs further to accommodate the size. He can /feel/ how hot he is through his sweatpants already,

the life-giving space thrumming under him with his mounting need. He uses battle-strengthened fingers to fit between the folds there, dips the middle two down to carefully rub over his pulsing heat.

Yuuji trembles, wheezes under his breath, “Sh-shit!” but contradicts himself

when he grabs Choso’s wrist. He obediently stills and waits.

Yuuji looks to the side so Choso can’t see his expression, but he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t pull Choso away or push him back down. Choso hugs him tighter, tucks his face into the junction of his shoulder.

“Let me,” Choso reassures him again, “I know you need this. It’s okay to need this.”

He quiets then, lets Yuuji have his moment to think. He’s sure Yuuji is questioning whether he deserves this, or his human morality is warring with his blood brother providing this, though Yuuji

still denies their relation. Above all, Choso knows his poor brother feels so lost, so /wounded/ by things he has had no control over. The least he can do is show him he doesn’t need to deny himself the simplest of needs, that Choso is here, for anything, for everything.

Finally Yuuji sags against him, reaches up to wrap his own arm around Choso’s like an embrace. He bends a knee, lets it fall open for him & that timid acquiescence eases the tension left inside Choso, melting against Yuuji’s back in relief.

“Thank you, brother,” he breathes out.

Choso rewards his approval by picking up pace to his clearly neglected sex, spreading his lips apart around thick fingers through his sweats.

Yuuji arches again, shoulders digging into his chest as a soft, breathy moan escapes his lips.

His hips rock up once before stilling, knees parting wider with want as nails dig into his wrist where Yuuji still hasn’t let go. His pleasure is visible, palpable; Choso’s chest swells with pride he can provide this for his brother. Choso presses his lips to his neck in a tender

kiss, catches a bead of sweat to taste Yuuji’s familiar spice for himself; he wills himself not to react, not to dart out his tongue for more, or worse, pull him in by his hips to give a little pressure to the ache building in his own groin. He cannot expect that from his Yuuji.

It’s not long enough before Yuuji starts to squirm, still far too tense to feel this properly. Yuuji bucks hard into his hand, harder than he should this early into stimulating him and gives a short, frustrated huff.

“It’s, you know, it’s ok if you can’t…”Yuuji starts, falters.

His hand squeezes his wrist again as his legs begin to close like a rescindment.

Choso stills for him, but keeps hand flush to his vulva he can absolutely feel beginning to throb. His brow furrows down, rests his chin on Yuuji's shoulder to look at him. “I don’t understand.”

Yuuji gulps, looks away so Choso can only see the side of his head. His words are quiet, shaky with embarrassment when he supplies, “I can’t get off like this.”

Choso processes that with the information he already has, the frustrated pants he listened to the last few nights.

When he puts it all together Choso huffs his realization like an admonishment, “You’re /impatient/.”

Yuuji laughs shortly, breathlessly that betrays that this /is/ working despite his assertion. “Yeah, I’ve been told that. I just…I can’t, okay?”

Choso hums, nods for him though he doesn't agree. He wouldn't be a good brother if he didn't offer lessons where he could, would he? So he eases his protective hold on Yuuji's chest to instead skim his fingers over his shirt, catching one of his nipples. Predictably the flesh

underneath hardens, raises for him eagerly, and Choso catches it between two knuckles. He rocks the digits a little, feels the hardened nub roll in his hand while he lets his fingers between his legs twitch forward once. He's just as reactive as he expected.

Yuuji squirms under a touch that's barely more than glancing pressure, and Choso tuts again.

"Your body is receptive, but your mind is not."

Yuuji makes a sound like a petulant whine and Choso frowns at him. Ever the big brother, he supposes.

“Pleasure isn’t a fight, brother.” Choso chides, “There isn’t an end to find.”

Yuuji tilts his head back to him with a frown of clear disbelief, “Uh, what’s the point if you don’t get off?"

Choso shakes his head, flicks his fingers against his teased flesh somewhat childishly.

He is surprised, /blessed/ when Yuuji reacts /viscerally/; altogether he jerks with the brief jolt of pain, his brow draws up, eyes shoot wide and his mouth parts wide on reflex even if he swallows the sound that should follow. In a half a second, Choso plummets from familial

adoration and duty to a vicious /lust/.

“Not what I mean.” Choso manages, forces his own voice steady against the heat burning low, low in his gut. What was just a passing thought, an expected reaction to giving pleasure trembles through him now in blindsiding waves of want.

He nudges Yuuji to make him look back up so he can mouth at his neck; while it’s a bit selfish, some of his own desire bleeding through to quell that searing ache, he makes sure that every wet press of his lips has Yuuji’s skin prickling, his heartbeat quickening under his arm.

He didn't expect to give a lesson here but Choso doesn’t mind; rather, he’s eager to teach Yuuji everything he can. Focusing on this will keep his own selfish desires at bay, too; hopefully.

“If you only try to feel good at the end you’ll never reach find your pleasure,” he provides. “Let it feel good now. Let it build.”

Choso emphasizes his point by grazing his teeth over shell of his ear while he resumes teasing his chest, grinds his palm down once against vulva.

Yuuji bites his lip, chews it flush to hold back the softest of sounds, his eyes fluttering shut. Choso swallows his own sigh, reminds himself over and over this is for /Yuuji/.

“Concentrate on what it feels like. Don’t worry about the end. I’ll get you there."

Choso kisses another sweet droplet of sweat from his neck after his assurance, revels in the indecent whimper he earns.

Yuuji is /so/ good then, trusts him so much to take care of him that Choso could cry. Yuuji lets go of his wrist, parts his knees wide to gift him full access.

"Ok," Yuuji nods, voice steady, "Yeah, I can do that."

Then he braces his hands on Choso’s thighs that have been securely bracketing him in, opening himself fully to Choso, vulnerable, wanting, /impossibly/ beautiful.

Choso's breath stutters, swallows around his dry throat.

Choso would sooner die than disappoint his Yuuji now.

He removes his hand from his groin, pure fondness welling through him when Yuuji gives a frustrated, confused huff of breath. He denies him not a second longer as he pushes his hand past the hem of his sweats, works past his

boxers to glide his fingers over Yuuji’s blood-hot, soaking wet sex. He circles two fingers over his clenching hole, gathers the slick there to rub it into his clit. He presses down firmly, rolling tight circles on the twitching head just to feel it jump between his fingers.

“Shit,” Yuuji says thickly, not quite a whine but filled with a startled desperation. His head falls back on Choso's shoulder and he's granted full view of his brother's rapture; his brow knitted together, mouth parted with his panting, cheeks stained pink with a flush that drips

down to his neck. He seems almost surprised how good he feels and warmth floods through Choso, makes him smile at his Yuuji though he's once again reminded his shameful, aching hardness. This is for Yuuji, not himself, but oh, he looks /divine/ like this.

okay tired be back later also I FORGOT TO TAG #NSFW LMAO

Beginning of thread https://twitter.com/nevtelenwriting/status/1379854460369899526

“Do you still call yours a vulva?” Choso asks, out of sheer impulsive curiosity.

Yuuji shakes his head, “F-fuck, no, it’s my cock but…”

Choso waits with his breath held. Yuuji swallows, “I like…shit, I like /cunt/.”

It’s so /filthy/. “Cunt.” Choso rolls the word around on his tongue, and he can’t help himself. “Can I put my fingers in your cunt?”
Yuuji doesn’t bother burying his whimper this time, but instead tucks his face almost shyly into Choso’s neck.

“Y-, yeah. Yeah, please.”

He can’t bear to waste a second longer, sinks one finger inside to the hilt just to feel his slick, soft walls. He’s so /warm/ inside, and being reminded that this clenching, throbbing heat leads up to a womb still makes Choso’s head reel. As quick as the first he sinks in a

second finger, his body paradoxically both gripping the digits tight yet opening so easily to accommodate the stretch. Yuuji bites his lip hard on a moan of clear pleasure, his thighs tensing, chest arching again into Choso's braced arm. And all from just two fingers.

He can’t imagine how he’d writhe on a cock.

“You have no idea how miraculous you are,” Choso breathes, more to himself though Yuuji makes the same confused sound from before.

“Still don’t understand that,” Yuuji laughs a little, though with an edge like shame to his ignorance.

Choso gives up his selfish desire to feel him inside, retracts his fingers so he can return to worshiping his clit—his /cock/. His body is /remarkable/.

“You know we’re all brothers, right?” Choso murmurs. He works his cock faster, fingers still slick from his dripping cunt.

Yuuji thrashes against him at the increased friction, bucking into his hand and away again like he can’t tell if it’s too much or not enough. Choso knows he’s losing his composure but he can’t help it; instinct drives him when he rucks a hand up Yuuji’s shirt, glides his hand up

his sweltering, sweat-damp skin to pinch hard at his chest, pulling a delicious cry from his brother’s throat. Yuuji keeps his hands on Choso’s knees, letting himself be pleasured, even /tormented/, as Choso give tribute to this impossible, perfect body.

“Y-yeah?” Yuuji manages after a minute, apparently catching up that Choso asked a question. He can’t help his small smile, kisses Yuuji's damp cheek and finally, presses down harder, giving him the pressure he knows he’s been seeking.

Yuuji moans, his voice cracking around it. His hips helplessly rut into him so Choso hooks his leg around his knee, dutifully holds him down so he can give him what he needs. Yuuji shakes his head, trembling against him and whimpers, “O-oh shit, /please/—”

His cock twitches constantly against his hand now, rhythmic little jumps betraying just how close he is to his orgasm.

Choso doesn’t pause in his pace, even if he can’t help explaining, too awed to hold back, “We, the death paintings, are born of the dead. We are made

and cannot make more, like awful, destructive mules. But you aren’t. You’re a brother that can give life, not take it. You can make it. It shouldn’t be possible but you were born a /miracle/.”

Yuuji chokes, his eyes flying open, “Ch-Choso, I—”

Yuuji’s words break on a cry, so rather than ask what he wanted to say Choso gets lost on the wrecked sound of his name in Yuuji’s throat.

“F-fuck, fuck I’m—I’m so /close/,” Yuuji keens, almost wounded with the need to reach his peak. Choso keeps his pace, knows it’s enough by

how he’s stopped rocking and instead stiffens up in his arms, taut and trembling like a pulled bowstring ready to snap. Yuuji's breath catches in his throat, almost unbearably quiet and then Choso feels him /throb/ under his hand when the tension finally breaks.

His cock pulses so hard it feels like it could hurt as a sobbing cry tears out of Yuuji’s throat, relief and ecstasy twisted together into something wonderous. Choso works him through it, biting down on his own lip against a small moan he can’t hold back, not with how slick his

Yuuji gets, not how he writhes in his arms finally finding his release.

He has no idea how long it lasts before Yuuji collapses against him, tapping his arm repetitively with a weak hand, “Ok, ok, I give.”

Choso stops moving. Yuuji laughs shakily, still panting for breath.

Yuuji tips his head back against his shoulder to look at him with a small, astonished smile. His eyes are glassy with his afterglow, face still flushed and shiny with sweat.

"Well, /wow/."

Choso gulps, pulls his hand free from his sweats.

“Did that satisfy you?” Choso asks, and Yuuji sputters in disbelief, though his crooked smile works up wider his mouth.

“Did that—really? I can’t believe I came that hard, even with your weird childbearing talk.”

Choso blinks at him, “How is that weird?”

Yuuji groans, eyes rolling up before he tips his head back forward. “Nevermind. So like, what next?”

Choso is confused again. “What next?”

He assumes Yuuji needs sleep; there doesn’t seem to be an end in sight for them out here, after all.

Yuuji hasn’t moved out of his lap however, so Choso revels in the closeness, rests his chin on his shoulder. “I know you need rest now.”

“Wait…” Yuuji stiffens up against him, turns his head enough to look at him in profile. “Really? That wasn’t…that’s it?”

Choso hums, “I can continue pleasuring you if that wasn’t enough.”

“Shit,” Yuuji wheezes, “You really…no, I thought…Oh man don’t tell me this is some weird curse brother thing you just /do/ and I completely misread this.”

“I don’t understand,” Choso mumbles helplessly.

Yuuji laughs, dry and incredulous like he’s been told a bad joke. He turns away and Choso can /taste/ the negative energy building in him and Choso's chest hurts knowing he made his brother feel this way.

“I thought you…" Yuuji mumbles, "I thought you wanted to fuck me.”

Choso blinks again. Feels his own cheeks heat, his breath seizing out him as that pain in his chest clenches down. He buries his face in Yuuji’s neck and swallows, “I’m sorry.”

“You’re /sorry/?”

“I’ve made you think this was for my own gain. I’m so sorry, little brother.”

“You—okay for one don’t call me that when we’re talking about this, two. I…” Yuuji trails off, clears his throat. “I didn’t say I didn’t want it.”

Choso can hardly believe his ears. Yuuji /wants/ him, the way Choso wants him. It almost feels like a dream.

But Choso knows they can't do this, not with the ability Yuuji has. “Yuuji, I—I’m not worthy of impregnating you.”

“Oh for the love of—we’re raiding a drugstore for condoms /first/, alright?”

The learning curve understanding Yuuji was steep, but he tries his best. “Alright.”

How this ended on this note is beyond me man <3 Come tell about JJK with me