Itadori's Two Moods

She was supposed to be at school. That’s what he thought as he unlocked the front door but the house wasn’t silent. From upstairs, he could hear it—soft, muffled gasps, the creak of a bed frame, and a rhythm that made his pulse quicken. He stood frozen in the doorway, the key still in the lock, his mind racing. That can’t be what I think it is.

But it was. The sounds were unmistakable. She’s here. His daughter. She’s— He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. He should have turned around. He should have left, pretended he hadn’t heard anything. But his feet moved on their own, carrying him up the stairs, step by step, each creak of the wood beneath his shoes making his heart pound harder.

The door to her room was slightly ajar, and the sounds were clearer now—little whimpers, the slick sound of her fingers moving between her legs, the soft moans she couldn’t hold back. He could see her through the crack in the door, lying on her bed, one hand tangled in the sheets, the other buried between her thighs. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted, her chest rising and falling with each shaky breath.

He should have stopped. He should have walked away. But he didn’t. He pushed the door open, just enough to step inside, and said, “Keep going.”

Her eyes flew open, her body freezing in an instant. She stared at him, her face flushed, her chest heaving. “Dad?!” she gasped, her voice trembling. She tried to sit up, to cover herself, but he stepped closer, his eyes locked on hers.

“I said, keep going,” he repeated, his voice low, firm. He could see the confusion, the fear, the flicker of something else in her eyes. She hesitated, her hand still pressed between her legs, her body trembling. “Don’t stop,” he said, softer this time. “Let me see you.”

She didn’t move, didn’t breathe, her wide eyes fixed on him. He could see the war in her mind, the way her body was torn between pulling away and giving in. Slowly, nervously, her fingers began to move again, her eyes never leaving his. She was so exposed, so vulnerable, and yet there was a defiance in her gaze, a willingness to let him see her like this.

He stepped closer, his eyes roaming over her body—the way her legs were spread, the way her fingers worked her pussy, the way her breath hitched with each touch. Her skin was flushed, her nipples hard, her body so sensitive, so alive. He could see the wetness glistening on her fingers, the way her hips moved with each stroke, the way her body was begging for release.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. He reached out, his hand brushing against her thigh, and she flinched, her breath catching. “Relax,” he said, his touch gentle, reassuring. “Just let me watch.”

Her fingers slowed, her body tense, her eyes wide and uncertain. But when he didn’t stop, when he kept staring at her, kept touching her, she began to move again, her fingers sliding through her wetness, her breath coming in short, shaky gasps. He watched her, his hand resting on her thigh, his thumb brushing against her skin, sending shivers through her body.

“You’re so wet,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He could feel the heat radiating from her, the way her body was trembling with every touch. His fingers moved higher, brushing against her hand, against the slickness between her legs. She gasped, her hips lifting, her body arching into his touch.

“Dad…” she whispered, her voice breaking, her eyes pleading. But he didn’t stop. His fingers joined hers, sliding through her wetness, exploring her, teasing her. She was so soft, so warm, so ready. He could feel her trembling, her body so close to the edge.

“Shh,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear. “Just feel it.”

His fingers pushed into her, slowly, gently, and she gasped, her body arching, her hands clutching the sheets. He could feel how tight she was, how untouched, and the thought of it made his cock harden, his desire burning hotter. He moved his fingers inside her, her wetness coating them, her body clenching around him.

“Oh god…” she moaned, her hips moving with his hand, her body so sensitive, so desperate. He could feel her getting closer, her breath coming faster, her body trembling with each thrust of his fingers.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her neck. “Let go.”

Her body tightened, her breath catching, and then she was coming, her pussy clenching around his fingers, her body shaking with the force of it. He held her, his fingers still inside her, his lips pressed against her neck, until her body went limp, her breath slowing, her eyes fluttering closed.

He pulled his fingers out slowly, her wetness coating them, and he brought them to his lips, tasting her. She watched him, her eyes wide, her body still trembling. He leaned down, his lips brushing against hers, and she gasped, her body stiffening. But when he didn’t pull away, when his lips pressed against hers, she softened, her lips parting, her body melting into his.

His hand moved to his belt, unfastening it, pulling his cock free. He was so hard, so ready, and when he pressed the tip of his cock against her wet pussy, she gasped, her body tensing.

“Daddy…” she whispered, her voice trembling, her eyes wide with fear. But she didn’t push him away, didn’t tell him to stop. Instead, she reached up, her hands resting on his chest, her body trembling with anticipation.

He pushed into her slowly, carefully, the tightness of her pussy making him groan. She gasped, her body arching, her hands clutching his chest. She was so tight, so warm, so perfect. He moved deeper, her wetness coating him, her body stretching to take him in.

“Relax, baby” he murmured, his lips brushing against her neck. “Just breathe.”

She nodded, her breath shaky, her body trembling. He moved slowly, carefully, giving her time to adjust, to feel him inside her. She was so small, so fragile, and the thought of taking her virginity made his cock twitch, his desire burning hotter.

He began to move, his hips rocking against hers, his cock sliding in and out of her wet pussy. She gasped with each thrust, her body arching, her hands clutching his chest. He could feel her pussy clenching around him, her body trembling with each thrust.

“Oh god daddy…” she moaned, her hips moving with his, her body so sensitive, so desperate. He could feel her getting closer, her breath coming faster, her body trembling with each thrust of his cock.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her neck. “Such a pretty baby.”

Her body tightened, her breath catching, and then she was coming, her pussy clenching around his cock, her body shaking with the force of it. He held her, his cock still inside her, his lips pressed against her neck, until her body went limp, her breath slowing, her eyes fluttering closed.

He moved inside her again, his cock sliding in and out of her wet pussy, her body still trembling from her orgasm. He could feel his own orgasm building, his cock twitching inside her. He thrust deeper, harder, his body pressing against hers, his lips brushing against her neck.

“Oh god…” he groaned, his cock twitching inside her, his orgasm washing over him. He came hard, his cum filling her pussy, his body trembling with the force of it. He held her, his cock still inside her, his lips pressed against her neck, until his body went limp, his breath slowing, his eyes fluttering closed.

They lay there for a moment, their bodies entwined, their breath slowing, their hearts racing. He pulled out slowly, her wetness coating him, and he rolled onto his back, pulling her into his arms. She lay against him, her body trembling, her breath shaky.

“Dad…” she whispered, her voice trembling, her eyes wide with fear. But she didn’t push him away, didn’t tell him to stop. Instead, she buried her face in his chest, her body trembling with fear and desire.

He held her, his hand stroking her hair, his lips brushing against her forehead. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “I’m here. Daddy's here.”

I'm feeling nice today soo here

Choso asking to itadori to call him once onii chan that's my favorite moment ever

No shota is safe while I'm out there btw.

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!?-

Orientation. This is it: your first college tour, your chance to discover if this campus is where you belong. For the first time, Mom isn't hovering nearby; she only agreed because your big brother goes here and swore to keep an eye on you. Your fingers tighten around your backpack straps as you tilt your head back, taking in the imposing brick frat house where he's waiting.

Big bro greets you at the door with a grin and a quick, strong hug. "Hey, kiddo! You made it. How’s my little sis holding up?"

"Tired," you admit, forcing a smile. "It’s a lot, you know? Being here."

He slings an arm around your shoulders, guiding you inside. "You’ll get used to it. Oh, and we're hosting a party here tonight. You're going to love it — trust me."

"A party?" Your voice wavers. Crowds aren’t your thing. Back home, you’re the shy one, more comfortable with books than booze. “I don’t know. I won’t know anyone.”

"Don’t sweat it. I’ll be right there with you. It’s the perfect way to dip your toes into college life," he says, his tone reassuring but firm. You nod, trusting him like always. He’s your big brother, after all — your protector.

———

Hours later, you’re in the thick of it. The frat house is a chaotic swirl of noise and bodies. Music thumps through the walls, a bassline that rattles your bones. The air is heavy with the sour tang of spilt beer, the musk of sweat, and a cloying hint of cheap perfume. People dance in tight clusters, some grinding shamelessly, while others shout over red cups or lock lips in shadowy corners. You hover near your brother, clutching a soda that’s gone flat, feeling like a deer in headlights.

"You okay?" he asks, leaning close so you can hear him over the din. His eyes scan you from head to toe, noticing how your fingers tremble.

"Yeah, just… nervous," you confess, biting your lip.

He smirks, grabbing a red cup from a nearby table. "Here, try this. It’s just punch — nothing crazy. It’ll loosen you up."

You hesitate, then take it. The first sip is sweet, fruity, with a subtle burn that warms your throat. It’s not bad. You drink more, and your brother keeps the refills coming. "Have fun, sis," he says, pressing another cup into your hand. "You’re too tense."

One drink becomes two, then three, then five. The room tilts, and your laughter bubbles up too loud, too sloppy. You sway on your feet, gripping your big brother's arm to stay upright. The lights blur into halos, and your tongue feels thick when you try to speak.

“Bro I… I think I’m drunk,” you slur, giggling as you stumble into him.

He steadies you, his hands firm on your waist. "Whoa, lightweight. You’re wasted. Come on, let’s get you sobered up." He turns to a group of his buddies nearby, all frat guys with cocky grins. "Hey, I’m taking her upstairs to chill. She’s had too much."

They laugh, one of them clapping him on the shoulder. "Good luck, man. Don’t let her throw up on you."

Your brother rolls his eyes, guiding you toward the stairs. You lean into him, trusting his strength, his warmth. He’s taking care of you, like always. The steps are a blur, and then you’re in a dimly lit bedroom. A single lamp flickers in the corner, casting long shadows over an unmade bed with rumpled sheets. He eases you onto the mattress, and you flop back, the ceiling spinning above you.

"Feel any better?" he asks, sitting beside you. His voice is different somehow, you barely recognize it.

“Kinda, just a little overwhelmed,” you mumble, closing your eyes. The bed dips as he shifts closer, and then you feel it — his hand pressed against your thigh.

"You know all those guys down there are dying to talk to you?" his fingers inching higher as he speaks. "You just need something to help you calm down."

Your eyes snap open, confusion cutting through the fog. "Bro? What’re you—"

"Shh," he soothes, leaning over you. His breath brushes your cheek. “Just relax, sis. No one’s gonna know. I'm just warming you up.”

His lips crash against yours, hard and hungry. You freeze, your brain screaming that this is wrong — he’s your brother. You push at his chest, but your arms are weak, heavy from the alcohol, and he doesn’t budge. “Bro, stop,” you whisper, voice shaking.

"Hush," he says, kissing your neck, his stubble scraping your skin. "Quiet, or someone might hear." His hands roam, unbuttoning your shirt, exposing your bra. You squirm, but he's just so much bigger than you. There's not much you can do other than take it.

"See? You want this," he teases, sliding a hand under your skirt. His fingers find you through your panties, and you’re mortified to realize you’re wet. "Now stop being so dramatic."

“No, I—” you start, but he cuts you off with another kiss, deeper this time, his tongue invading your mouth. He tugs your panties aside, stroking you until you’re gasping, your protests dissolving into moans. It’s wrong, so wrong, but the alcohol blurs the edges, and his touch feels too good to fight.

He pulls back just long enough to remove his clothes, then the rest of yours, leaving you bare beneath him. "Gonna fuck you now, little sis," he laughs, unbuckling his jeans. “Consider it part of your orientation.”

You should scream, run, do something, but you don’t. You can’t. When he pushes into you, it’s overwhelming — stretching you, filling you, a sharp ache melting into pleasure. You cry out, and he clamps a hand over your mouth. "I said quiet!" he hisses, thrusting slow and deep. "Don’t want anyone walking in on you getting fucked by your big bro, do you?"

The rhythm builds, his hips snapping against yours, and slowly you lose yourself in it. The slick friction, the filthy thrill of his words. "See, isn't it better when you just relax" he groans, gripping your hips.

Suddenly, the door creaks open. A guy stumbles in — tipsy, bumbling. “Hey, I was — oh, nice!” the guy stares, eyes wide as he takes in the scene: you sprawled out on the bed, getting pinned down and pounded.

"Get the fuck out," your brother snaps, not missing a beat. "This slut’s mine."

The guy blinks, shocked. “Alright man, calm down...”

"I said out!" he roars, and the guy scrambles back, the door slamming shut. His words echo in your head — this slut’s mine — and it does something to you. A fresh wave of arousal floods you, your cunt clenching around him.

"You like that, don’t you?" he taunts, thrusting harder. "Me owning you like this?"

"Yes," you gasp, the confession spilling out. "It was fucking hot"

He starts pounding into you with new intensity. Your legs wrap around him, pulling him deeper, and the room fills with the sounds of skin on skin, your stifled moans, his ragged breaths. The pressure keeps building as you tremble beneath him.

"I-I think I'm gonna cum bro..." you whimper, clinging to him.

"Me too, sis." he grunts, driving into you one last time. Your body arches, a scream caught in your throat as he covers your mouth with his fist. He follows, spilling inside you with a low, guttural moan, his weight collapsing onto you.

He rolls off, pulling you against his chest. You’re sticky, sore, and reeling, but his arms feel safe, even now.

"What did we do?" you whisper, shame creeping in alongside the afterglow.

"I told you sis, orientation," he says, kissing your forehead. "Our secret. No one needs to know.”

i hate when i have ocs and they're siblings and dating but i have to pretend they arent

everytime someone has to pretend their incest ocs aren't dating an angel loses its wings

snezhnaya toy salesman

p/s: please watch "toy salesman" if you haven't!

how I want him to treat me