Work Text:
Yuuji has to close the distance.
Blood cuts across his forehead, splashing down and blinding him in one eye as he jumps a turnstyle. This woman - she’s too effective at long range, and while she’s taller than Yuuji, she looks like she barely weighs anything at all.
Definitely creepy though, all draped in white and burgundy fabric like a ghost in a horror movie.
She shoots another arrow of blood, and Yuuji hits the tiles. When the blood hits the concrete wall, it punctures half a metre deep.
Don’t get hit, and get close.
Yuuji bursts toward her, as fast as he can, prepared to leverage his superior weight to his advantage as his fist slams into her ribs, reinforced with his cursed energy.
She doesn’t budge an inch, and looks down her nose at Yuuji with murderous contempt.
“You killed my younger brothers,” Her voice is low, with a rasp that sounds like grief. Her eyes are red rimmed like she’s been crying.
Uh oh.
When she slams her elbow down between Yuuji’s shoulders, he can smell the copper of blood making an iron net over her skin, like wrapping barbed wire around a club.
Up close doesn’t do him any favours either.
Actual first priority now getting rid of the blood.
Yuuji’s first priority sees him into a bathroom, into unconsciousness, into Sukuna’s rampage. At some point Choso, who he shouldn’t keep referring to mentally as ‘that woman’, decides he’s her younger brother, and that she’s going to smother him. But she puts herself between him, Kenjaku, and Uraume.
She looks dreadfully small wrapped in Uraume’s ice, a marionette with her strings cut while the puppeteer carries on the play with glee.
After everything, Yuuji thinks he might pity her, so when she clings to him, he lets her stay. The memory of her red rimmed eyes burns into his brain, and the guilt that still coats his tongue when he thinks of her (their?) brothers’ bodies sinks even deeper into Yuuji’s throat. He doesn’t stop her from calling him her brother, even if he can’t bring himself to call her big sister in turn.
They don’t stray far from Shibuya, clearing curses and raiding stores for food for Yuuji to eat without tasting. Choso doesn’t have to sleep or eat as a curse, so she doesn’t.
She sits tucked against Yuuji’s back, always touching him, like she’s afraid he’ll die in his sleep.
Yuuji’s good enough at reading people to know that she’s probably more afraid of him taking off in the night if she lets go of him for too long.
Which is fair.
So Yuuji lays down, and pretends to sleep, or sleeps fitfully. Choso touches, innocently.
Her hands aren’t small, per se, but are frail in appearance, with paper thin skin, and arching bones like birds wings. Delicate. Elegant. Yuuji knows from first hand experience that impression is only skin deep.
Choso pets him, when they sit still long enough for her to get her hands on him. Yuuji’s face. His shoulders. His hair. She’s always warm, and smells like blood in a way that should disgust him, but doesn’t.
It’s innocuous. It’s always nice, and Yuuji thinks if he had a frame of reference, it is how a sister should touch her brother.
The issue is that Yuuji, as an only child, has no frame of reference. Instead, this is the closest he’s ever been to a woman, and though she’s still creepy in an occult kind of way, she holds Yuuji close like she loves him.
Choso professes as much as easily as breathing, and assures him that she’ll do anything to protect him, even though he doesn’t need it.
It only takes a few days before Choso’s sisterly affection has Yuuji so hard he can’t see straight when he’s trying to sleep.
Yuuji lays there and suffers while his body betrays him. No matter how much he tells himself that she’s doing it because she’s trying to take care of him, his dick twitches in interest whenever she’s near him.
How she looks doesn’t help. Though she’s taller, he’s so much bigger than her; Yuuji could wrap both her wrists together and hold her down with one hand.
Yuuji tries to derail that train of thought the second it leaves the station, but his brain has other plans.
They rest. Yuuji pictures holding Choso down while she coos at him, calling him little brother, while he sinks his cock into her, one hand splayed from rib to rib.
Unaware of where his thoughts are, Choso combs her fingers through his hair, and makes him lay on her lap, kneading the back of his neck with her warm hands.
Yuuji rolls onto his stomach, shame-faced and burying himself in her knees. Choso sighs over him like he’s a small fuzzy animal, and massages his shoulders until he falls asleep. He dreams of putting his head fully between her thighs and kissing her there until she’s screaming brother with her soft voice hoarse.
When he wakes up, Choso’s smiling, her hand curled over the back of his neck.
Yuuji’s boxers stick to his dick, and he knows without a doubt he had a wet dream while he was in her lap. He probably made noises. He definitely made noises.
They don’t talk about it.
Yuuji’s mortified when he realises Choso wants to, when he catches the way she watches him after they eat and move out for the day, when she thinks he’s not looking at her.
They don’t get the opportunity, Naoya and Okkotsu ambushing them. Yuuji counts his blessings, and throws himself full-heartedly into his reunion with Fushiguro, and manages to not be a freak when he introduces Choso.
Popping a chub while he tries to convince Okkotsu and Fushiguro that the half-curse who tried to kill him is now helping him will not do him any favours.
He can’t bring himself to introduce her as his sister, and he can tell it hurts her, but she keeps close to him anyway.
It makes Yuuji sick how badly he wants her.
He ignores it.
They still haven’t talked about it.
They go back to Jujutsu Tech, and Choso promises to remain behind.
Yuuji swallows thickly, and tries not to let on how relieved he is when Tsukumo encourages Yuuji and Fushiguro to stay behind for a single night before going to find Hakari and Hoshi, as they’re more likely to get injured if they’re travelling tired in the dark. He doesn’t want to leave without saying goodbye to Choso properly.
Fushiguro is, understandably, obstinate about staying. Yuuji knows he’s just worried about Tsumiki, and tries to fit the same sort of worry into how he would feel if he had to save Choso.
The issue with that is that Choso absolutely kicked Yuuji’s ass, and he has a hard time picturing her losing or being in danger.
It’d probably be the other way around, and Yuuji’s brain stutters to a stop with the sudden realisation that that’s how Choso’s been feeling about him the whole time.
“Little brother,” Choso’s standing too close, leaning toward Yuuji’s face, interrupting his thinking.
She’s too pretty. Yuuji wants to touch her spiky eyelashes, wants to know if her hair is soft or coarse.
“Could you show me around the school? I want to see where you spend your time.” Choso’s voice is quiet enough that Yuuji isn’t sure anyone but him can hear her. Tsukumo is watching them slyly, though, and it makes Yuuji want to leave.
Yuuji blinks, and swallows. “Huh? Yeah - I’ll show you my classroom and my dorm and stuff.”
“Could we stay there?” Choso asks.
“Huh?” Yuuji asks, smartly.
“In your dorm. I want you to sleep somewhere you’ll be comfortable.” Choso explains, following Yuuji as he leaves and looking closely at anything he points out as interesting, her attention minimal beyond a cursory glance otherwise.
Yuuji thinks he could get her to do anything he asked, just by asking.
His dick twitches.
A flush crawls up the back of his neck, to his ears, and he focussed on pointing out where his favourite places on campus were, and where some of the fights he had with the Kyoto students were. It’s a blessing that they’re alone, away from anyone who would call him out if they noticed the burgeoning tent in his pants.
“They attacked you?” Her tone is clipped, dangerous.
Oops. Yuuji could definitely get her to do anything if he just asked.
“Uh, no! Not like that. It’s… a game. I guess they stole you when that flower curse thing attacked us. That’s what we were doing.” Yuuji explains as they walk back toward the dorms. Fushiguro said he was going to sleep near the doors, so at least Yuuji isn’t going to have to explain himself to Fushiguro any more than he already has about Choso.
Choso nods, slowly, but her expression remains pinched. She doesn’t like that he was in danger.
The butterflies in Yuuji's stomach do their best to choke him, fluttering madly. Choso wants to protect him, just him. He’s special to her.
Sister, sister, sister, he chants to himself as he lets them back into his dorm.
In some awful way, it’s exactly the same as he left it when they departed from Shibuya. The realisation sobers Yuuji, drawing a frown on his face.
“Are you alright? We can go somewhere else, little brother?” Choso’s hand curls around Yuuji’s shoulder, gentle pressure until he begins to turn to her.
It’s platonic affection, she’s just trying to be a good sister, but Yuuji’s the one who’s broken, getting affection from his grandpa was like pulling teeth, so now he can’t divide platonic from sexual and -
Yuuji tucks himself into Choso’s arms, buries his face into her neck, and clings on.
She folds into him perfectly, the draping folds of her clothes only reminding him more of how silken she is. Yuuji buries his face in her neck, and curls around her. She bends, easily, her back arching under his palms.
“It’s just… the same. Even when it’s really, really not.” Yuuji isn’t crying, but he’s not making sense either. He can’t explain without choking up, so he doesn’t.
Choso weaves her fingers through Yuuji’s hair, pressing her cheek to the top of his head. “I promise I won’t let things get worse,” It’s not an empty condolence, nor is it an assurance that things will get better .
It’s enough, for now.
Yuuji sighs, and lets more of his weight fall on Choso. She leans, her stomach curving into him, her hips pressing to his, and Yuuji jumps, beginning to pull away but Choso’s body flexes, and she clings with her inhuman strength.
“Why are you pulling away, little brother?” Choso moves her hands to cradle Yuuji’s face in her palms, her face tilted.
Like this, they’re like lovers, like a painting.
Yuuji tucks his face back into her shoulder, and holds her tighter. “Because I can’t love you right.” He finally verbalises, and waits for the inevitable push of her throwing him away. Yuuji is a bad brother, in the same way that he is bad at keeping Sukuna under control, in the same way he’s a bad sorcerer; always letting things get too far because he can’t hit the brakes fast enough.
Choso is quiet, and lets Yuuji inhale the warmth from her skin. Her hands still cup his cheeks, her own pressed against his hair.
She doesn’t shove him away, or call him disgusting. Her body stays slotted against his own, her small breasts flush against his chest.
“Is this about what happened a few nights ago?” She asks, tone the same murmur as always. Yuuji’s only seen her incensed for her brothers… which he supposes extends to him, now. He wants Choso to cry out for him if he fucks her.
Yuuji presses his face harder into the side of Choso’s neck, and hugs her tighter, trying to block out his inappropriate reactions.
“It is,” Choso isn’t asking anymore. There’s a thoughtful tense of her arms, like she’s trying to pull Yuuji’s face away from her neck without hurting him.
Like a child, Yuuji stubbornly resists.
Choso’s hands slip from his cheeks and she winds them over his shoulders, loosely.
When her chest presses up into his, her movement is slow, undulous, intentional .
Yuuji can feel her nipples through their clothes, just faintly.
Yuuji jerks his head back on his own, face burning. “Ch-Choso!”
Choso is watching him with her dark eyes nearly black where her pupils have blown wide. “Call me onee-chan,” she moves her arms down to cradle the back of his neck, her elbows crooked to pull them closer.
When she brushes her lips over his, she has to tilt her head down to do so.
Her hair is soft where her bangs brush Yuuji’s face.
Blood is starting to rush southward, and Yuuji valiantly tries to think of anything else, other than the soft, barely there kiss of Choso’s lips on his.
“Let onee-chan take care of you,” Choso insists, holding Yuuji’s head in place so he can’t look away from her.
Yuuji squeezes his eyes shut as his dick throbs. “It’s wrong,” he’s not resisting, however. Rather the opposite, he holds Choso’s hips tighter in his palms, barely holding back the urge to thrust against her.
Choso shakes her head, and presses a soothing kiss to Yuuji’s brow. “Only if we decide it is.”
When she guides him backward until his knees hit the edge of his bed, Yuuji goes, content to be guided. “We decide what’s right for us. No one else has a say in our family.” Choso continues. When Yuuji stumbles, and sits, Choso sinks into his lap, long legs straddling Yuuji’s hips.
“Is this alright, little brother?” Choso asks him from where she looks down at him.
Yuuji swallows, and nods.
“May I kiss you again?” Choso puts her hands on Yuuji’s shoulders, smiling at him.
Yuuji tentatively moves his hands from her hips to her waist, pushing her clothes as he moves. His fingers are trembling, but his thumbs meet at the centre of her stomach, like he hoped they would. His middle fingers touch around her back.
Yuuji can’t look away, his mouth watering uncontrollably.
He nods without breaking his gaze from her middle.
When Choso kisses him, Yuuji closes his eyes and leans up into her mouth. It’s everything he wanted, and he knows he’s being too eager, knocking their teeth together when he surges up into her lips.
“Easy,” Choso sighs into his mouth, “Let onee-chan show you how.”
Yuuji sits obediently, and when Choso slots their mouths together again, he follows her lead; lets her tilt their heads so their noses slot together rather than banging uncomfortably. Choso’s tongue is hot in Yuuji’s mouth, sliding over his, writhing to taste his palate.
Yuuji moans into her mouth, and is rewarded by her digging her fingers into his shoulders when he sucks on her tongue. It stings, and Yuuji’s pretty sure her nails are going to leave welts on his skin.
His dick perks harder with interest, and Yuuji breaks away from Choso’s mouth, panting.
It’s getting increasingly hard to focus on anything other than the weight of Choso’s body in Yuuji’s lap, and how insistent his dick is on getting touched. “Sorry, Choso, I…” Yuuji lets go of her waist with one hand to smooth his palm over her chest, desperate for the feel of her nipple again, even through their clothes.
At this point, Yuuji’s pretty sure he could cum if Choso let him hump her thigh even a few times.
“It’s okay,” Choso’s hand covers his, and guides him to the opening in her shirt under her arm to tuck into her clothes. She doesn’t wear a bra, and Yuuji isn’t surprised by that at all.
Her breasts are tiny, barely there bumps under her clothes, but her skin is so hot and smooth under Yuuji’s calloused palm. Yuuji reflexively massages the skin under his hand, biting his lip at the way her hard nipple pops out from under the drag of his thumb.
Choso’s hand is still over his, and flexes at each rough squeeze of his hand over her skin.
“Does it… feel good?” Yuuji asks, shyly.
Choso nods, and grabs Yuuji’s other hand with her own. “Yes, I’ll always like what my little brother gives me,” her eyes are lowered to slits, and she guides Yuuji through unravelling her clothes, until her chest is bared to the cool evening air, and Yuuji’s hungry eyes.
Her nipples are the same blood red as her lips, stark against her pallid skin.
Yuuji’s dick weeps against his fly, leaving a patch of dampness where his pants are tented between Choso’s thighs.
Yuuji doesn’t want to cum from dragging his clothed cock across her thighs, he wants to bury himself between her legs and fuck her full of himself.
He chokes, flustered by the thought. He has to jerk his hand away from where Choso’s guiding him to her belt to grip himself in a death grip to hold back the way he nearly spills in his pants.
Choso’s chest heaves with her gasp, and Yuuji closes his eyes to count back from ten to gather himself. Choso’s fingers shake when they pluck at the buttons of his uniform jacket. “Let onee-chan help you,” her voice is wrecked, husky and low.
Yuuji nods, and follows when Choso guides him up onto his bed properly, lays back on the pillows as she peels his jacket and sweater off of him. Yuuji watches, still with a deathgrip on his cock as Choso unwinds her belt, and pulls off the rest of her clothes.
She’s wearing a fundoshi, and unravels that until she’s completely bare above him, her knees spread wide on either side of Yuuji’s thighs.
Yuuji’s eyes bounce between the bumps of each of Choso’s clearly defined ribs to the jut of her hipbones against thin skin. The black hair on her cunt does little to disguise the crimson flush to her skin, slick dripping down her thighs.
Choso’s fingers return to Yuuji’s pants, and she pauses. “It’s okay if onee-chan takes these off?”
Yuuji finally lets go of his dick, and nods, bringing his hands to help her get his pants out of the way. “I don’t have condoms,” he admits, ashamed of his inexperience.
Choso pets her palms over his thighs, her eyes locked on where his erection springs against his lower stomach. “That’s alright, I promise I’ll take responsibility.” Choso settles on the meat of Yuuji’s thighs, and catches his hands again.
She’s bony, but the way she’s stretched her legs to accommodate him between them is doing things to Yuuji. Yuuji tangles their fingers together and stares at her, “You’re beautiful,” he sighs, dreamily.
Choso blushes, and she ducks her head. There are strands of her hair escaping her pigtails, tickling her ears, the nape of her neck. Yuuji wants to run his fingers through it. “Can I take your hair down?”
Choso hums, and shakes her head. “Later, it’ll only get in the way right now, little brother.”
Yuuji tries not to be disappointed, and is rewarded by Choso leaning over him, their hands still clasped between them to kiss him again.
Every wet sound their lips make as they kiss is echoed by a throb between Yuuji’s legs. “Breathe, through your nose,” Choso instructs when she pulls away, only to duck back in and force him to take her advice to heart.
Choso brings one of Yuuji’s hands back to her chest, and the other between her legs.
Yuuji grasps her breast eagerly, passing his thumb over her nipple again and groaning when she presses her chest into his hand. The hand between her legs he has less of an idea of what to do with - Choso’s soaking wet and scalding against his fingers.
He traces her folds with his finger tips, exploring as she holds his wrist. Choso’s grip flexes when he circles what he is pretty sure is her clit. “Should I touch you here?” Yuuji asks.
Choso pulls away from Yuuji’s mouth to suck on his collarbone. “Yes, like that,” she moans.
Yuuji’s hips jerk up of their own accord, a large surge of precum painting his stomach while he pants.
Choso smiles against his skin, and guides his hand in small circles against her until her hips are working against his hand, pressing harder while her breath fogs against his neck.
Yuuji moves his hand from her breast to her shoulder, gently curves her back upwards until he can watch her rock her hips over his fingers as they move together.
His hands are so big against her.
Yuuji shifts his hand on Choso’s cunt, and presses his middle finger to her entrance, marvelling at the way it slips in easily with how wet she is. Her walls clamp around his finger, spread wide on just one of Yuuji’s knuckles in a way that has Choso furrowing her brows, mouth falling open.
Yuuji has to close his eyes, ignoring the way his erection hurts between his legs while he slides his finger into Choso, exploring the way she feels inside.
It’s awkward, and it makes his wrist hurt, but he manages to find an angle where he can circle her clit with his thumb while he rubs at her walls, her slick running over his palm, down his wrist.
“You’re so wet,” Yuuji pulls his finger out to admire his hand. He wants to taste it.
The sound that Choso makes when Yuuji puts his finger in his mouth nearly breaks him, somewhere between a whine and a prayer consisting of his name.
Yuuji can’t, he’s going to cum without ever getting his cock near her. “Choso, please, can I?” He catches her hips again, and shifts her so she’s hovering over him.
Choso blinks, slow, like she’s drunk. She’s watching his cock, her hands braced on Yuuji’s pecs with her fingers splayed. “Why don’t you get on top of onee-chan?” Choso’s moving before Yuuji can reply.
It’s a narrow bed, so reversing their positions isn’t the most graceful process, but when Choso wraps her legs around Yuuji’s waist, and his shadow swallows her whole, he knows it is worth it.
Yuuji has to hold his cock in a death grip once again so he doesn’t bust immediately when he rocks the head against Choso. In his nervousness, he can’t quite get his cock in on the first stroke, and inside slides between her folds, whimpering at the feeling of her slick skin against the underside of his cock.
Choso arches her back when his cock slides over her clit, and Yuuji can’t resist ducking his head to suck on one of her small breasts, leaving a bright red mark on her pale skin.
Yuuji pushes himself back up, and realigns himself, and this time, the head of his cock pops into the tight ring of Choso’s cunt. Yuuji stays perfectly still, breathing through his nose as he tries to think of literally anything to stop himself from cumming, despite the death grip.
“So good,” Choso’s pushed herself up on her elbows to watch Yuuji sink into her body, “So good for onee-chan.”
Yuuji thrusts in, hard, and feels bad about it for about one second before Choso’s head is dropping back with her broken moan. The headboard bangs off the wall, and Yuuji is very, very, glad Fushiguro is not sleeping in his room next door.
While Yuuji loses his virginity.
To his sister.
Yuuji shudders, hips pressed flush against Choso, having had to let go of his cock to sink in to the hilt. He stretches his hand over her pelvis, his thumb on her clit while his fingers splay over her hip and up her stomach.
So small .
“Your own sister? Fuck, brat, you’re more depraved than I am.” Comes Sukuna’s unwanted commentary.
Yuuji shoves him down, and can barely hold back the rage that surges in him at the sound of Sukuna’s voice, still threatening to boil over since Shibuya.
The next stroke of Yuuji’s hips is too hard, shoving Choso up the bed despite the grip he has on her hip. Before he can stutter out an apology, he realises she’s clenching tighter on him, his name falling from her lips again.
Oh.
Yuuji’s hand shakes, but he circles her clit with his thumb again while he thrusts into her, knocking a dent into the wall with his headboard.
It feels like he’s going to bruise the shape of his hips into her thighs, and the guilt hits him almost as hard as the arousal does.
It’s too much.
Yuuji can only keep up his pace for a few minutes before his rhythm stutters, the orgasm he’s been holding at bay finally beginning to unfurl in his gut. “I can’t, I’m going to, Onee-chan -”
It’s impossible to finish the thought, as Choso’s body clamps down hard on Yuuji at the title, her arms flying up around his neck to rake her nails over his back.
The sudden pain paired with the ecstasy of her walls milking Yuuji’s cock has him cumming before he can pull out, consequences the furthest thing from his mind as he buries himself within Choso.
It’s definitely the hardest Yuuji has ever come, in his entire life. Once he can think straight again, he realises that they’re both making soft, whining sounds, as Yuuji’s hips jolt in mindless little thrusts into Choso, barely enough to dislodge him as he softens.
It’s oversensitive, and it hurts, but he can’t stop.
Stupidly, he wonders if he’s pushing his cum deeper inside her like this, and the thought has him shuddering.
His fingers are numb with pleasure, but he tentatively strokes over her clit again. “Onee-chan?” Yuuji looks at Choso through his lashes, tries to catch her eyes from where she’s put her face in his neck.
Choso rocks her hips against his, once, and meets his eyes with a tearing gaze. “Y-yes?” She’s trembling like a leaf, her legs seizing around Yuuji’s waist in a way that doesn’t seem to be on purpose.
Yuuji presses himself in as deep as he can be, and holds still, trying to block his cum from leaking out as he keeps petting Choso’s clit. Yuuji’s rewarded not long after when Choso spasms around him again, his cock finally slipping free with a rush of their mixed fluids as her body flexes.
Choso’s hands clamp on Yuuji’s bicep, gently peeling his hand away from her. “That’s enough for now,” Choso’s voice is exhausted, thin.
“Sorry, did I hurt you?” Yuuji rubs the back of his neck, chastised.
Choso smiles at him, pleased in her exhaustion. “No, but we should have some water. You should sleep. The goal of staying was so you wouldn’t be exhausted when you leave tomorrow.”
Yuuji nods, and tries not to feel embarrassed as time passes and he grows more aware of his nakedness. Choso moves until she can press kisses against his mouth, then moves to his cheek. “Why are you blushing?” She asks.
That’s typical.
Yuuji wonders if Choso just doesn’t get social things sometimes because she’s half a curse.
They just had sex. They’re siblings. Yuuji should be screaming. “Don’t worry about it,” Yuuji says, and dismisses his own concerns. It felt good. He wants to have sex with her again. Maybe not right at this moment, but when he gets back.
Choso hums, and doesn’t seem convinced.
“I promise!” Yuuji holds up his palms, wheedling. “Can we just go to sleep? I’m not thirsty.”
The faint plea in his tone is all it takes, and then Choso is moving, cleaning herself and the bed up as best she can before crawling back into the blankets to lay with Yuuji. It’s still cramped with the two of them, but naked as they are, it’s nice.
She wraps her arms around him, and Yuuji doesn’t know if her affection is as a lover or his older sister. He figures they’re one in the same. He pillows his cheek against the crook of her neck, and sighs, content.
“Thank you, onee-chan.” Yuuji tries the title, finding the taste much different when he isn’t buried in Choso’s body.
She sniffles, and rubs her face in his hair.
“Ack! Don’t cry,” Yuuji tries to move, to comfort her, but her arms lock him in place, easily controlling him. Yuuji could fight her, but it’s not worth it.
“It’s okay, I’m just happy.” Choso kisses the top of his head. “I love you.”
…It’s wrong, but Yuuji loves her too. He’ll tell her when he gets back, as a promise to himself that he has to come back.