“Yeah?” His voice is gruff and hoarse, almost like he’s keeping a whimper tight in his throat. His leg bounces as fast as his heart pounds his chest. You’re so pretty, with your pretty parted lips, and how your saliva keeps it just wet enough to shine in the warm lamp light. So plump for him to kiss and bite—

“As I was saying,” You pull your hand away, not hearing the small whine that leaves him from the lack of contact. “We need to make sure you’re comfortable for the next few hours. You said you can get agitated when there’s full moons, right?”

“Mmh.” Better a grunt than a moan. You brush it off assuming the effects of the celestial event are starting to mess with him internally.

Of course, you’re well aware that he’s got an extra pair of fluffy scratchable ears on the top of his head, an even fluffier tail protruding from the base of his spine, and sharper canines. You’re not ignorant. 

What you don’t know is that he’s much more prone to getting heated in these hours. Especially in the presence of someone who his body, mind, and soul are attuned to completely. It’s you. You're that someone.

But he has to behave for your sake. He can’t be bad, he can’t be too rash and aggressive or he might scare you off. You might not like it. But he wants you so damn bad, he can’t even hide it anymore. 

You’re rattling about restraints, something to tie him to incase he goes berserk.

Restraints. Belts. Muzzle. Chair. Tie him to a chair. He wants you to tie him to a chair.

He wants you to restrain him. He wants you to sit on his lap and feel how hard his cock is for you, feel it throb just below your cunt, grind his hips up to you still so retrained and held back that he has to beg you to ride him. He might as well ask for it. 

“…unless that’s too extreme.” You mutter, expecting a response. Nothing. Did he zone out again? What’s going on with Valko to be so distracted? He wasn’t like this last month. “Look, I know the full moon can be a messy time for you, and now that it’s a supermoon it could be worse, but I’d prefer you to actually respond— oh.”

Valko is drooling. Valko’s eyes are glazed over. Valko is blushing beyond relief. And Valko is sporting a rock hard boner.

The silence that stretches between you would have been uncomfortable, it should have been. But you seem to enjoy the rough pants that escape his lips, how his hands are balled into fists to keep himself at bay. How the veins on his neck are far more prominent now. 

You sink your teeth into your lower lip, hoping you won’t say anything foolish. 

“Don’t laugh.” Valko grits, his fluffy ears drooping a little. 

“I wasn’t going to.” You say, trying to ignore the fact that your lips are twitching into a smile.

You glance down from his agitated golden eyes to his neck, to his large muscular chest covered by the black tank you always find so attractive on him, to the taper of his waist, to the pulsing print of his cock bulging against his pants.

Now that you think of it, you two haven’t shared the bed recently. You’ve both been so busy with work that neither of you have had time for each other. And you’ve been very wound up these last few days.

“I think we should figure out what restraints will be good for you.” A purr follows your words as you rest your hands on his chest. Muscular, warm, huge chest that you love to sleep on. You’re making this much, much worse and you know it. You can hear it in the groan that rumbles in his chest. 

“Oh, is it getting worse?” You play an aloof demeanour, reaching to caress the soft ears on his head, making sure to rub on that sensitive spot where his hair is its softest. A soft moan escapes Valko’s lips as his golden eyes flutter closed.

“Please…”

“What do you need me to do, my love?” Your lips ghost the shell of his fleshy ear, tongue peeking out to trace the shell. He shudders, head lowering to give you more access, hips rocking towards you so you can feel just what you need to do. 

You don’t want that, though. He has to say it.

“I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”

A pained moan rushes right into your ear as he drops a part of his weight on you. Valko doesn’t want to say it but he also wants to say it. It doesn’t make sense. This heated state is driving him insane, and you’re giving him such a clear path to relief. But what he wants is different from what you usually do… will you agree?

With a shaky breath, Valko nuzzles the side of your neck, mustering the will to confess his desire. “You have to tell me no if you can’t do it.”

“I will.” You reassure him, stroking his soft hair. His arms wrap tight around you, grounding himself in your presence as the words unknot themselves to flow out.

“If you’re grossed out—“

“I won’t be grossed out, Val.” You softly say, rubbing circles into his lower back. “Nothing about you grosses me out. I trust you, so you need to trust that I’ll handle whatever you need and that I’ll tell you if I can’t. Outside of cannibalism, I'm not doing that.”

That makes him chuckle. “You’ll tell me the second you’re uncomfortable?”

“The millisecond.”

His next request comes out more sheepishly. “You’ll tell me I’m doing good?”

“I’ll put a poet to shame.”

“Pull my hair?”

“Put a collar on you too if you’re feeling feisty.”

A sigh of relief escapes Valko’s lips. Oh, he loves you. Finally, he pulls his face away from your neck to level your gaze with fresh determination on his face. “I want you to tie me to the chair, and ride the shit outta me.”

Ask and ye shall receive, as you hear them say.

It was easy to put Valko on a chair especially when he's drunk on your kisses, hungrily biting marks into your bare chest and stomach, gripping your hips so tight you’d think he’s terrified that you’ll run. It was easier to get soaked just from watching him strip for you— that, and having his fingers curl so good inside your cunt as he slurped and lapped at your clit.

The only ‘difficult’ part was restraining him to the chair, legs, arms, and torso roped tight, and that’s just because he’s antsy whenever the full moon happens. 

But something about this supermoon has got him more riled up than usual. Why, you ask?

You’ve been bouncing on the man’s cock for two hours. 

You’re not complaining, you love every second of this. Your walls are fluttering around him as he slides in and out of you so easily, caught by you keeping his fat tip inside leaking all that sticky, hot precum before you drop into his lap again and again and again. 

“Val— ooh, fuck!” Your praise has otherwise become mush, slurred moans of his name and whatever adulation could come to mind. Valko doesn’t mind since he isn't doing any better. If anything, he’s lost the need to think.

“S-So good,” His throat is torn from how loud he’s been, his hips jutting into you even with his thick, corded thighs roped down to the chair. His tail is slapping the floor, his fluffy ears are twitching. He can barely move, limbs strapped down and a collar wrapped around his neck at his own request. And he loves it.

He wants to cum so bad. But then he’d end up swelling so much that he’d be stuck for hours, just grinding and grinding and plugging his seed inside instead of feeling you slap down on him with each rise and fall of your full hips. He wouldn’t have your soft breasts bouncing in his face, or feel your hands scratch his undercut and pull his hair, or hear the hiccups in your voice or the ragged moans in his own.

Why make this pleasure so short-lived when he can prolong it? 

His cock is leaking like a faucet, keeping him smooth and wet for you to use him as you please, pulsing with the desire to just release. His sacks are drawn up tight, literally clenching with enough cum to repopulate a country, and yet he still won’t give in.

Valko drags his tongue up your jaw all the way to your cheekbone. “ ‘m I fuckin’ you good?”

“Hah— mhm. Such a good boy.” You ramble into his lips as you kiss him, slipping your tongue inside to taste him as if he isn’t all that you can sense. “So big and thick and hot… so— Valko— so full ‘f you, want you deeper, you’re so good!”

You’re on orgasm number five by now, gripping onto Valko’s strong shoulders for dear life, back arched, tugging his hair like you want to rip his red locks off. It’s the supermoon, you tell yourself, it must be shooting his stamina through the roof.

It fucking has to be if he’s been rutting into you like a bullet train without cumming even once. His girth twitches with every rock of your plush hips, it leaks and weeps inside you every time you squeeze him hard enough to cut off his blood flow. It has to hurt, prolonging his climax for this long.

Valko likes it that way. He likes the hurt. He likes the way his body just responds to you so well, like you’re made for each other. You have to be.

Your knees are starting to ache. Your thighs are burning from the constant bouncing up and down his thick length but the feeling of him dragging through your walls with each vein pressing against your walls is too good. The overwhelming bump of his cockhead kissing your cervix may just tip you over the edge again. The fucking curve of his cock and the angle just lets him reach the sensitive nerves of your g-spot so good every damn time!

You love these fucking supermoons.

“Valko,” You hum, licking his lips then his chin and jaw, your breath heavy as you maintain your pace. Just a few more and you’ll be in pure bliss. But you need him there with you. “I’m close. I’m so close. Hnn, need you— cum with me.”

“You— oh, you sure?” He whimpers, nuzzling you as you lick the tears off his cheeks. “I’ll—“

“Knot me, mhm.” You nod, rubbing your nose into his cheek, inhaling his scent. This man’s frenzied behaviour has been rubbing off on you too much, not that there’s reason to complain. “You’re gonna swell up so fuckin’ thick, yeah?”

He nods. “Gonna plug all that cum in me, keep it warm inside while you grind ’n rut into me?”

“Yeah,” He affirms, his arms pulling against the restraints. Is this what you want? You want him to bond with you to that much of an intimate extent? You must truly love him. “ ’m gonna stay in you the whole night, snug inside. But I like when you ride me.” You can feel him pouting as he pecks your skin. So cute.

“Then you’ll be a good boy, right?” You coo, your hands cupping his face as you press your thumbs on his lower lip. “Cum with me, and stay inside all night.” You fight every urge to give in to the pleasure when he bites your fingers.

You suck his upper lip, letting your moans vibrate into his. “Can you do that for me?”

Valko’s a simple man. You ask for something and he’ll give it to you with a smile. Like he is now, canines bared, tongue lapping at your fingers before he attacks your lips with a bruising, hot kiss. He pulls away just for a second to mutter against your mouth, “I love you.”

“I know, baby.” You huff, smiling into the kiss as you scratch his fluffy ears. Valko’s hips rut up faster and you can feel his cock swell at the base, almost ready to be plugged into you. Oh, he is so going to eat his cum out of you once he’s soft. “Now be good and cum with me.” 

To be fair, most jujutsu sorcerers have loud thoughts to match their loud personalities. You particularly remember when you first met Todo and you were on the receiving end of a mental barrage of images of some idol that you faintly recalled having seen in passing before and big ass after big ass. So you’ve long made your peace with the fact that loud thoughts come with the territory.

But when you first met Yuuji during your first year at Jujutsu High, it felt like you could hear everything he was thinking — even without accounting for the curse caged inside of him. It would get so bad that you ended your days during those first weeks of knowing him feeling dizzy. 

While Nobara has always been quick to project whatever irritation, excitement, or disgust she feels, her emotional flashes are quick to come but equally as quick to fade. Megumi’s unhealthy instinct to suppress everything he thinks and feels has always made him one of your favorite people to spend time with.

It’s Yuuji who thinks loudly and feels loudly around the clock. Before you learned how to filter out and block every stray thought you heard, it felt like you were constantly aware of Yuuji's status whenever he was within a few hundred meters. 

You knew when he was hungry, when he was enjoying something, when he was annoyed, when he was happy, when he was excited, when he was sad, when he thought something was funny, when he had to go to the bathroom, when he didn’t understand something, when he thought a girl was hot, when he was angry, when he was in pain, when he was winning at pachinko, when he was tired. 

But after so many years of training, and so many years of being his friend, his thoughts and emotions are still just as loud, but you only ever hear one if you need to in the midst of a fight — or if it’s strong enough. 

And for the past few months, his thoughts have been so strong that it feels like you’re 15 all over again. It’s not all his thoughts that are strong enough to reach you against your will, just…certain ones. 

The first time it happens, it’s so sudden that you feel like you’ve been hit over the head.

People assume that with your technique, you can hear every word going through someone’s mind. And while sometimes you do, people think both verbally and visually.

So, you’re not surprised when an image suddenly flashes in your head. After all, it’s a phenomenon that you’re more than used to. You are, however, surprised at the image. 

Because as you’re waiting in line at a bakery to order, leaning in slightly to look at the display case of pastries, you’re suddenly assaulted with the mental picture of yourself from behind, particularly the way your dress has slightly ridden up the backs of your thighs. It’s not high enough to be obscene, only enough to hint.

And to accompany the image is a deep desire — for you to bend over further, for your dress to ride up even higher, to know what’s beneath and for it to be a thong. 

You cut off the connection before you can see anymore and shoot back up to stand perfectly straight, your eyes as wide as saucers. Your heart is racing in your chest and you have to fight the urge to bury your face in your hands to hide your burning cheeks.

“Did you figure out what you want?” Yuuji’s curious voice is suddenly in your ear as he leans in over your shoulder to look at the pastry selection himself. “That ham and cheese one looks so good.”

He sounds so…unaffected, like he wasn’t just fantasizing about what your underwear looks like. You glance at him from the corner of your eye and none of it is on his face. 

“Th-the pistachio one,” you mumble, distractedly pointing at the croissant in the corner of the display case.

“Oh, you’ll have to let me try a bite!” he grins, moving in even closer to look at what else the bakery has to offer, entirely oblivious to the mental breakdown he’s caused. 

And that’s how it starts. 

You’ll be out with Yuuji and you’ll get a flash of him wondering how soft your lips are when you apply some chapstick, or of him appreciating how your neckline dips just low enough for him to see the edge of your bra when he looks down at you. 

It’s not every time you’re together, but it starts to happen often enough that you begin to prepare yourself whenever you know that you’re going to see him, just in case. And it does work. You accept that your friend seems to be attracted to you and assume that this new crush will probably go away. You’re able to shut out the thoughts as quickly as they come. 

But then they get louder — and filthier. You’re no longer seeing things that could barely be considered PG-13. 

You’re seeing your face coated in white streaks of Yuuji’s cum, your mouth open and your tongue sticking out to catch every last drop as he fists his cock. You’re seeing your ass in the air as he eats you out from behind, your own imagined whimpers and moans ringing in your ears as you grind back into his face. You’re seeing yourself from above, his hands on the backs of your knees pressing them towards your chest as your ankles dangle by his ears while you beg him to go “harder, Yuuji!” You’re seeing him yanking you into an alley to bend you over and fuck you against the concrete wall.

It’s only made worse by how casual he acts when you’re finally able to recover from whatever obscene display has been forced upon you and you can dare to look at him. He’s never flustered or lost in some fantasy. He’s never distracted. You never catch him staring at your tits or ass. You’ve never even been able to catch him with a tent in his pants. 

He behaves as if everything is normal, like he’s just your friend that you’ve known since high school. A friend who doesn’t fantasize when you’re laughing together over hotpot about spitting in your mouth or when you finally have a chance to go see Human Earthworm 6 about you swallowing his cock in a crowded theater. 

Your other friends seem to have noticed that something is off. Megumi has asked on more than one occasion if you’re coming down with something when he sees how you’ll suddenly start breaking out into a sweat. Nobara is more perceptive, immediately jumping to the conclusion that there must be a new man in your life with how flustered you’ve been lately.

There’s a sudden, sharp pang of someone else’s dismay you feel when she makes her deduction in front of your friends. 

But what you don’t know how to tell her is that this new man is Yuuji, and the reason you’re so flustered is because every time you see him, he’s been unknowingly projecting graphic pornography featuring both of you directly into your mind. And even worse, you don’t know how to tell her that you’ve started to look forward to it. 

At first, you thought the reason why you would get so wet was because Yuuji doesn’t just share what’s running through his mind, but also what he’s feeling. Your arousal is really just his arousal. 

But that doesn’t explain why you’ve found your eyes lingering over his broad shoulders when his back is to you or appreciating the sight of him shirtless and sweaty after training together or wondering what it would feel like to have two of his thick fingers buried knuckle deep in your slick cunt. 

And you’ve started to realize that he doesn’t even need to be around for you to end up yourself lost in a fantasy of your own making. 

You’ll be scrolling through your phone and your mind will drift to how it would feel to look down and see Yuuji beneath you as you ride him, your palms pushing down against his bare chest for leverage with every rock of your hips. You’ll be sitting on the couch and wish that Yuuji were with you so you could climb into his lap and desperately grind against him until you both come in your pants as you let out needy little whimpers against his lips. 

You’ll be in bed late at night with your hand buried between your legs, your fingers sliding in and out of your dripping pussy while you grind the heel of your palm against your clit, and mourn the absence of his cock. 

After months of this ongoing torture, your sanity is about to snap. It feels like every time you’re together, if it’s not his fantasies that you’re seeing, it’s your own.

But then you notice a change. Because where you’ve started to feel less flustered every time one of these images is playing in your mind — so desensitized to them by this point that they leave you turned on more than anything else — he appears to be growing more flustered in your presence. 

There are times when he can’t quite meet your eyes. You’ll look over at him and see that his cheeks are suddenly as pink as his hair. There’s one time where he starts to choke on the soda he’s in the middle of drinking for no apparent reason. You finally start to catch him staring longingly at your ass. 

You begin to wonder if he’s close to reaching his breaking point. 

It’s what you find yourself contemplating one night as you and Yuuji get caught in the rush hour crowd on the subway. He’s strong enough and thoughtful enough to have pushed a path through when you boarded, so that you can lean back against the set of doors on the opposite side. He rests his forearm above your head on the window, using his body to shield you from the rest of the crowd. 

It’s an awkward situation for two friends to be in. For as much room as he tries to leave between you, people continue to get on at each station, and eventually, there’s no space left — you can feel every firm inch of him pressed against you.

He seems to be more conscious of it than you, his eyes directed nervously up at the ceiling. You’re just relieved that it’s him invading your space and not some creep who’s ready to take advantage of the close quarters. 

Thankfully, most of the station platforms are on the same side as where you entered the train, so neither of you have to worry about moving or the doors you’re both leaning against opening. With Yuuji seemingly feeling too shy to talk while you’re in such an intimate position, your mind begins to wander.

What if you turn around? Yuuji would feel every one of your curves as you reposition yourself so that your tits were pressed against the window and your ass slots perfectly against his crotch. You could take his free hand in yours and slip it under your skirt and between your thighs so that he could feel the wet spot in your underwear.

Actually, in this fantasy, you’re wearing no underwear. God, the groan he’ll let out when you slide his fingers up your legs, only to find that there’s no barrier between his touch and your soaked pussy. 

His cock would be so hard against your ass as you give a slow grind into it, able to feel every solid inch even through the fabric of your skirt and his pants. But you can’t waste any time — the doors supporting you both could open at any of the next stops. 

So, while you flip up your skirt, he rushes to shove his pants and boxer briefs just far enough so he can pull out his cock with one hand. And that one hand is then quickly slapped over your mouth to muffle your cry when he slides his cock into your sopping cunt in one smooth stroke. 

He takes you so roughly that you can’t tell if it’s the train that’s so jerky or the punishing rhythm he sets, desperate to get you both off before someone either catches you in the middle of your illicit act or you enter a station where the platform is on your side of the car. 

It’s just as you slide your hand down between your legs to furiously rub at your clit that the fantasy comes to a screeching halt with all the force of someone hitting the emergency brake on the train. Because you’re suddenly incredibly aware of something hard between you. 

You look down, but it’s pointless with how close Yuuji is — pointless because you can’t see beyond his chest and yours, and pointless because what else could it be other than his cock? You then look up at him with hooded eyes to see how red his face is.

He looks pained, his features scrunched together, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, and a bead of sweat running down his neck that you want nothing more than to catch with your tongue. You tilt your head to the side curiously, wondering why he’s so distressed. Obviously, he’s feeling embarrassed, you don’t need to be able to read his mind to know that. But this seems to be something beyond simple embarrassment. 

Feeling your gaze on him, he eventually opens his eyes and gathers the courage to look down at you. Your breath catches in your throat when you see how wide his pupils are, his warm brown irises merely a thin ring around them, and how you can see a mixture of deep hunger, desperation, and pleading. 

“I’m begging you,” he says. His voice is barely loud enough to be heard over the sound of the train as it continues to run along its track, but it’s impossible to miss the rasp to it. “You have got to stop doing that. You’re killing me.”

Your forehead wrinkles as you frown in confusion, trying to understand what he’s talking about. But then he lifts his free hand, the one you had just been fantasizing about having between your legs, and taps his index finger meaningfully against his temple, and you gasp so loudly that you know other passengers have turned to see what’s happening. 

Because over the months where Yuuji has been projecting his thoughts, unaware that they’ve been loud enough that you can’t help but hear them, it never occurred to you that a longer-lasting connection was slowly forming with every image, every word, every emotion. Your mind became so open to receiving what he was unknowingly sharing that you hadn’t realized that you were slipping into his mind the way you used to do with others when you were younger and still learning the basics of your technique. 

And what you grew to understand as you developed it was that if you don’t form a barrier to protect what’s in your mind, then the connection becomes reciprocal and your target can see everything that you’re thinking, too. 

Which means that for the last few months, it’s not only him who’s been projecting graphic pornography featuring both of you directly into your mind, but also you who’s been projecting graphic pornography featuring both of you directly into his mind. 

All you can do is stare up at him, your mouth opening and closing as you struggle to find the words. Unfortunately, while you’ve lost your ability to speak, your mind refuses to quiet and all you can think of is how you want him to stick his fingers in your mouth.