specialistpinky

[specialistpinky]

*♡ big juicy ♡* | choso x oc

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「 ✦ jägerbomb ✦ 」

wc: 4.4k

i'll take you home if you don't leave me at the front door your body's cold, but girl, we're getting so warm

—SHAKE IT by METRO STATION

i check on my roommate slumped in the backseat periodically through my rearview mirror.

she put up a decent fight on the way to the car, shouting and flailing in my hold and demanding that we go back inside for more drinks (though, i'm sure Uraume would've refused to serve her). eventually, i got her to calm down once i put a random bandaid i found on her forehead. with the way she was going, i'm sure she would've earned another wound.

she started crying as we started driving back, whining about her piece-of-shit ex stealing her money and how much she missed the way he "dug her out," whatever that meant. before i could even think of responding, she lost to alcohol fatigue after a few minutes, her soft snoring filling the car.

i sorta feel bad for her, even if she's been a pain in the ass within the last 24 hours i've known her. despite that, my mother taught me basic respect and manners to not leave a woman stranded by herself with no way for her to get home safely; the least i could do was give her a lift back.

amid my thoughts, i hear a loud gurgle. i don't even bother to wonder what it is because it's most definitely my stomach. i hum to myself, pondering on dinner options. Wendy's sounds good, but they're closed by now. Jack in the Box is cool, but they always mess up my order, and they're more expensive these days.

should i buy something for Flo, too? surely, she'll be hungry when she wakes up with the alcohol munchies.

i decide last minute on something quick, cheap, and reliable: Taco Bell. i see the one i go to all the time, pulling into the drive-thru.

"hmmm..."

shit, did i wake her up? i did make a fairly hard turn, and we just hit a speed bump.

"Flo?" i whisper low enough to not disturb her but enough to see if she'll respond.

"mmmwhat?" she slurred.

i can't tell if she's mumbling in her sleep or actually talking to me. i keep quiet and see what she says next.

"mmm whereee da pancakes? i f'got mines at n'home..." is all she says before i hear her head hit the seat rest and more snoring.

so she talks in her sleep. great. not sure if i needed to know that, but now i do.

i was gonna ask her what she wanted, but conversing with a sleep talker isn't the best idea. she may not be able to tell me what she wants, but i can get her something simple for when she wakes up. it's courteous to share food, even if it means sharing with an annoying, lightweight brat passed out in my backseat.

as soon as i pull up to the intercom, a small, tired voice mumbles through the speaker, "hi, welcome to Taco Bell. what can i get you?"

"hi, can i get two chili cheese burritos, two enchiritos, and two empanadas?"

the items pop up on the small screen one by one, and i sigh as the total racks up. there goes my gas money until next Friday.

"two chili cheese burritos, two enchiritos, and two empanadas. anything else?"

i turn around and almost ask if she wanted anything else. i look to see she's still out, unmoving and laying back at an awkward angle, completely unable to answer such a question.

i huff out of my nose and turn back to the intercom. "nah, that's it."

"$8.39 at the next window."

"thank you." i drive forward, fixing my rearview mirror and checking on my knocked-out roommate in its reflection.

her mascara looks a little fucked up from all that crying earlier if i'm honest, faint smudges streaked under her eyes and smeared on her cheeks. i feel for her, though—can't count how many times my ex fucked me over before i finally dared to release myself from her clutches.

maybe someday she will, too.

why am i even thinking about that? what does her crying over her ex have anything to do with me?

i scoff and shake my head. i need to mind my damn business.

i roll to a stop as the cashier repeats my total. i grab a ten-dollar bill from my cup holder and hand it over in exchange for my food. they attempt to hand the change back to me, but i wave them off. "keep it," i say to them. "nothin' i can do with it, anyway," i mutter to myself.

they nod before saying, "have a good night, sir."

"you, too," i reply, quickly stuffing the food in my backpack and pulling off slowly to not disturb sleeping beauty.

i'm left with my thoughts and Yuji's r&b cd softly playing through the speakers—a familiar routine, one that i've grown accustomed to over the past few years of college.

occasionally, i reminisce on the times i would pick Yuji up from school and listen to him ramble about his latest crush or his upcoming field trips or how he hated his chemistry teacher for taking away his silly little animal bracelets (i later learned that he was slingshotting them and hitting people in the head with them). there wasn't a quiet day in my car.

i miss those times dearly.

i sigh, my chest tightening with longing and anguish, making me grip the steering wheel a little too tight. i let up when my knuckles start to hurt.

i see the dorm building up ahead, my thoughts quelling as i think about my warm bed and weighted blanket keeping me company.

my car sputters as i park her parallel to an unoccupied curbside space and cut the engine. i sigh and pat Naomi's steering wheel in sympathy, taking in the silence—minus the snoring from the back.

she may not be the fastest or prettiest car on the lot, but she gets me from point A to point B and doesn't guzzle gas like a fucking freight truck.

i chuckle to myself. "very lucky to have you, girl," i speak to my car, "wouldn't know what to do with myself without you."

i would probably sound crazy if Flo were awake, but thankfully, she isn't.

wait—

i look over my shoulder. Flo is sprawled out across the back, seatbelt stretched over her body, one leg and one arm hanging off the edge.

i groan, my head thudding against the backrest in irritation. fuck, she's still passed out.

i take a deep breath in through my nose and out through my mouth. i have half a mind to bring her a trash bag and a blanket and let her sleep in the car, but that would be stupid. something could happen to her or my car. police could roll by and think she's some homeless person camping out in front of a college dorm. someone could think i'm holding her hostage, which would be a weird assumption because i would be a stupid motherfucker to leave my victim in my car in a public area where anyone could walk by, but people can be fucking stupid enough to make such assumptions.

point is, i don't need any more bullshit tonight.

i unbuckle my seatbelt and step out slowly, checking my surroundings and deeming the coast clear before i round the car to the sidewalk, opening the back car door. Flo's head falls at the loss of the door propping her up, so i quickly hold her by the back of her head and gently set her head on the seat. she jerks a bit but ultimately stays asleep.

i huff. "hey, Flo," i murmur gruffly, lightly shaking her shoulder, "time to get up. we're at the dorms."

she doesn't move an inch this time.

i shake her again. "hey, you gotta wake up so we can go inside."

she still doesn't budge.

i grunt in annoyance. "fucking hell," i curse under my breath, brushing my bangs out of my face.

i have no choice but to keep trying to wake her up. with both hands on her shoulders, i shake her a little harder and call her name repeatedly as firmly and quietly as i can without startling her.

after a few minutes, my attempts remain futile, ending with me dropping my arms and exhaling in defeat, my head in my hands.

i guess i'm gonna have to do this the old-fashioned way, huh?

i open the passenger door first, grabbing my backpack and hauling it over my shoulders. then i make my way back to Flo. leaning into the backseat, i reach over her to unbuckle her seatbelt, carefully retracting it so it doesn't snap back and hit her in the face. ducking into the car, i shift her into an upright position, her head lolling against my chest. with a steady breath, i help her out the car, slinging her arm over my shoulders while i held onto hers.

her dead weight makes it difficult, but i manage to get her upright and close the car door with my foot. we stumble to the entrance for what seems like forever before she mutters incoherently.

"mmm, mama?"

i stop in my tracks, looking down at my roommate. her eyes are still closed but her face scrunches up from the lamp illuminating above us.

"whas that?" she mumbles, her eyes blinking open. "hmm?"

she opens them fully before squinting from the light. "who you?" she asks groggily.

"your roommate," i reply simply as i continue hauling her up the incline to the dorms.

she grumbles and shields her face in my chest, weighing me down even more. "where we at?" she slurs.

"at the dorms."

"why you holdin' me up? i can walk by ma—hic!—ma'self."

how is she this damn drunk from three drinks? hell, how is she still this drunk after that nap?

i roll my eyes, explaining, "you passed out in my car and wouldn't wake up, so i helped you."

she grunts out an "oh," the sound vibrating through my chest.

i glance up as the lobby entrance swings open, thanking the person holding the door for us. stumbling past the sleeping RA at the front desk, we make our way to the elevator.

as i press the up button, i hear Flo burp then let out a rancid gagging noise.

i cringe deeply inside and have the urge to sympathy-gag but manage to stay neutral.

she burps again before saying, "'m okay, m'okay." she hangs her head down, groaning about her being fine over and over while swaying back and forth.

i'm tempted to push back on that, but i don't. "you sure you can hold it in on the ride up?" i ask instead, watching the elevator doors open.

she nods jerkily.

taking her word, i lead her in and prop her up against the side wall as i press the 8th floor.

"oh my fuckin' god," she spits out, wretching right after but nothing coming out of her mouth yet. this time, i can't hold in a small gag, which then makes Flo gag harder.

i gag again as i grunt, "just—hold it." i keep her up and clench my jaw. she coughs and gags a few more times while covering her mouth, her body lurching forward and her shoulders shaking.

as the elevator opens to our floor, Flo shoves me back and staggers out. i jog after her, looking both ways to see where she went. that's when i hear the trashroom door open and a heavy gag echo throughout the hallway.

i just huff and trudge to the trash room, waiting with my arms crossed and a grimace as i begrudgingly listen to Flo wretch and cough. after a minute or so, she comes out and leans against the doorway, her hair sticking to her forehead and breathing hard, practically swallowing gulps of air.

"nu'fin came out," she whines, holding her stomach.

i glance at her. "nothing at all?"

"mm–mmm." she shakes her head and sputters as she slides to the floor. "my th'oat burnin'."

i suck my teeth, grabbing her before she hits the ground and hauling her up to our room. thankfully, it's only a few feet away.

i unlock our dorm and sigh in relief as we enter. that was a fucking trip and a half that i never wanna endure again. i hope this doesn't become a reoccurring thing, though i can't count on my roommate to make that promise.

i kick the door closed and steadily sit Flo down at the kitchen table.

i take my backpack off and pull out a small water bottle i got from work, handing it over to her. "here, drink this," i say.

she blinks at me owlishly, looks at the water bottle, then back at me.

i furrow my eyebrows. "i'm not in the mood for this."

i slam the bottle on the table and take the Taco Bell bag out. she eyes me pulling out my half of the food wordlessly, unshed tears glazed over her brown irises.

i slide the bag her way. "eat that when you feel hungry." i grab my food in one hand and swing my backpack over my shoulder with the other. "there's ibuprofen and Tylenol under the sink if you need it," i tell her as i shuffle to my room.

"wait!"

i reluctantly halt, silently sighing. "yes?" i call out tiredly but softly to not upset her.

"help me t' th'couch?"

i instantly kiss my teeth in annoyance and shake my head. jesus christ, she wants me to help her again? i'm so tired of this. it's like babysitting a big-ass toddler. Yuji is enough as is and now my roommate?

"please, Choso?" she whines petulantly. i can't see her face, but i have a good idea what she looks like tryna convince me to help her to the couch.

go to bed. don't give in. go to bed. don't give in. go to bed. don't give in. go to bed. don't give in.

don't give in—!

i close my eyes and exhale through my nose before setting down my stuff and walking over to Flo. her hands are outstretched, making a grabby motion. she pouts and has a few tears running down her face.

taking her hands and hauling her up, she stumbles, falling on me and nearly knocking me over. i stabilize us, thankfully, and waddle her to the couch.

i hear her sniffling and croak out a "thank you" as i let her down easy. she plops down on the couch and throws an arm over her face.

"'s too bright. turn th' light off."

i roll my eyes and walk over to turn off all of the big lights.

"anything else, your highness?" i ask sarcastically as i walk back to my roommate, seeing her knocked out and curled up into a ball.

i huff out a laugh through my nose. "brat," i mutter before heading back to my room.

i shut my door as softly as possible then collapse onto my bed face first, the old box spring creaking underneath my weight. i don't even have the capacity to undress. i just toe my boots and socks off; no way in hell am i ever sleeping with shoes on, no matter how tired i am.

keeping my face buried in my bed, i crawl under my covers, curling up in the warmth of my blanket pile as my eyelids become heavy and my body sinks into the bed.

fatigue washes over me, lulling me closer to temporary peace. it's euphoric.

beep-beep! beep-beep! beep-beep!

and of course, the illusion of peace spontaneously combusts, flames burning my nerves.

without opening my eyes, i take a pillow and smother myself to block out the beeping pager.

beep-beep! beep-beep! beep-beep!

it's too distracting. i can't even think with that thing going off.

i throw the pillow and covers off me, grumbling as i roll out my bed and snatch my pager off my desk.

squinting in near-darkness, i read the number on the screen: 621-311-6135.

asshole. why is he paging me when he has my goddamn number? he was the one who said not to use these shits unless it was for work or an emergency.

something tells me it's neither in his case.

i run a hand through my hair and set the pager down, looking around the room for my backpack, only for it to not be anywhere. i scratch my head in confusion. where could my backpack be? i had it when i went to work, in the car on the way home, and i brought it in.

now that i think about it, i don't remember bringing it in my room with me. i blink in realization.

i left it in the hallway, didn't i?

"...you, bitch! fuck you, ho!"

i fling open my door, looking around in the darkness. i flick the hallway light on, seeing my backpack on the ground against the adjacent wall, the front pocket wide open.

shit.

"hic! you ain't sh-shit! fuck'n asshole. shitty, thieving, big-dick muthafucker."

oh, god.

i nearly trip as i sprint to the couch, seeing Flo with the phone to her ear and her hunched back facing me. i walk around and stand in front of her.

"hey, hey, give me that," i whisper sternly, holding my hand out. she looks up at me and falls back on the couch, completely ignoring me as she keeps yelling.

"i fuckin' h–hate you, Toji," she croaks, her voice cracking and weak, "i really do. you and that stupid ass, big ass dick. fuck you, Toji! you hear me?"

i pinch the bridge of my nose and huff.

"Flo, please give me my phone."

she rolls over, tucking the phone under her, pouting and shaking her head childishly. "don' wanna," she slurs quietly.

i suck my teeth. "Flo, just give me—!" i reach out and dig under her to grab my phone, only for her to squirm and flail.

"get offa me, bruh!" she screeches, kicking me in my stomach and chest. her repeated blows stop me from reaching my phone. one particular kick to my stomach knocks the wind out of me, making me double over and clutch my abdomen.

i wheeze, "Flo, please gimme my phone. i understand you're upset—"

"no, you don' ge'it! you ain't ha–have yo ex steal yo fuckin' money f'm you and fuck you so good you can't move on. you..." she hiccups, burying her face in a throw pillow. she sobs softly and curls up into a ball while i stand there like an idiot with my hand still out.

my gut tells me to give up on retrieving my phone and get in the morning when she's asleep, to walk away from this catastrophe in the making.

but some other instinct in me says to stay. maybe i don't want her throwing up on the carpet. maybe i don't feel like wrestling her for my phone in the morning. maybe i feel bad for her more than i let on. either way, i go against my gut and crouch down, grunting a bit from the pain in my stomach.

"Flo?"

she lets out a prolonged, muffled grunt.

"how long are we gonna do this?" i ask, trying to stay quiet and calm.

she doesn't respond, just lying there and rocking side to side. i exhale sharply out my mouth as i stand up, my knees cracking obscenely loud. i stretch my neck and crack my fingers before reaching under Flo and grabbing my phone.

she feels my hands under her and gasps, instantly turning around as i pull my phone out from under her. she snatches it back before i can get a good grasp on it.

"Flo, give it," i grit sternly.

"no!" she shouts, waving the device around. we go back and forth for a bit, me demanding my phone and her refusing to cooperate, her fingers spread across the buttons. amidst our squabble, she must've pressed the speaker button because suddenly, a deep voice cuts through the air:

"yo, Choso."

i freeze and take a second to respond. "hey, Sukuna."

"where've you been? been calling you for two hours, but instead, i get fuckin' screamed at and cursed out by your little plaything and hear you two kiddies arguing."

my brain bypasses his hyperbolic lie about calling me and immediately choke on my own spit at the way he describes Flo. "she's not—" i start, but Flo cuts me off.

"plaything? who da fuck is da 'plaything,' bitch? cuz i know you not talkin' bout me. i ain't no mu'fuckin' side bitch! da fuck?" she screams into the receiver, her head shaking with anger and a few more tears running down her face.

i reach for my phone and attempt to take it from Flo again. "c'mon, Flo, he didn't mean that–"

"nah! nah, hell nah! back d'fuck up!" she hisses at me, swatting me. i back up, and she goes back to yelling. "i'm Flo fuckin' Sterling! don'tchu EVA play wit' my mu'fuckin name or in my mu'fuckin face again, ho. fuck is you talkin' bout?"

she scoffs, throwing the phone to the floor.

"hey!" i yell. i go to fetch it, but Flo's foot sits on top.

"you betta git 'im, Choso, cuz i ain't da one nor da two," she huffs and hugs the throw pillow to her chest, muttering strings of curses into it.

there's another major swell of silence. my uncle lets out a deep hum.

"Choso," Sukuna's muffled, unnervingly calm and icy tone crackles from the ground, "i suggest you sort things out with your—unruly woman."

"unruly?! Choso, i swear fo' god if you don' git that dumbass mutha—"

"wha–aye! who you callin' a dumbass, woman?"

the two begin to quarrel, leaving me irritated and even more frustrated than before. i've got my uncle demanding to talk to me while hurtling insults at my roommate and Flo, somehow still drunk and distressed, gatekeeping my phone as she empties the air out of her lungs at my uncle. it feels like no matter what i choose, i'll have to reap the consequences without complaint.

so, i pull out the one trump card i'm good at.

"hey, Flo?"

she cuts herself off, her neck practically creaking as she turns and sneers at me, growling a hostile "what?" in my direction.

"i'm gonna eat your food if you don't give me my phone," i threaten in a low, mockingly menacing voice, squinting and baring my teeth for emphasis.

her face drops. she stares at me blankly, alternating her focus between me and the Taco Bell bag on the coffee table. i still stay but occasionally side-eye her food to make her think i'm serious.

suddenly, she's scrambling off the couch and lunging for the bag, kicking my phone from up her foot.

i pick up the phone mid-slide and turn off speakerphone, holding it up to my ear. i walk to the connected kitchen so that Flo doesn't follow me. i look over my shoulder to see too busy munching on her food to notice i've walked off.

"alright, i got it under control now," i huff in relief, "what do you want, Sukuna?"

"need you to cover a shift. Geto called out."

i suck my teeth and pinch the bridge of my nose, exhaling loudly before replying, "what time?"

"6 pm."

my eyebrows shoot to my hairline. "as in this 6 pm? like today, Monday, at 6 pm?"

"are your ears clean, kid? yeah, 6 pm."

i scoff, throwing my hand up in disbelief. "dude, i have class every day at 8:00 am. can't you get Mahito or literally anyone else to cover it?"

"no. also, don't care about your class.   6 pm. end of discussion. don't make me drag your ass here, kid. be ready."

click.

i bring the phone down from my ear, my jaw hung open. no way Sukuna is making me cover Geto's shift. i close my mouth and groan, massaging my forehead through the oncoming headache banging behind my eyelids.

i hear snickering behind me, making me whip my head around. Flo stops mid-laugh, her face like a deer caught in headlights, and keeps chewing while she stares.

"he sounds like a dick," she says, shrugging.

can't argue with that; my uncle is the biggest asshole i've ever met, and i have a shithead for a father. unfortunately, Sukuna is somehow more tolerable than my sperm donor, so i deal with his bullshit so long as i need a job to put myself through school.

"he is," i concur, crossing my arms, "a major asshole."

"y'know, y'should jus' skip work t'morra," she mumbles nonchalantly, her mouth full of food. "school's more 'mportant."

if only it were that easy.

i puff my cheeks and exhale, shaking my head and trudging my tired body to my room.

i push open my door, then hear my drunk roommate whine again before i close the door: "mmm, Choso?"

i exasperate heavily but don't walk back out. i still answer her, though. "what now?"

she mutters incoherently, to which i ask, "what?"

she keeps muttering under her breath as if i have super fucking hearing, like i'm a dog or something. "Flo, what the fuck are you saying? speak up!" i groan.

"i schaid t'ank you!"

silence fills the apartment. my face twitches a bit as i stand in the doorway of my room, wondering what to say to that. what did she need to thank me for? i didn't really do anything. she annoyed and inconvenienced the shit out of me tonight: distracting me at work, driving her shitfaced ass back and carrying her inside, arguing with me and my uncle.

i've been dealing with shit like this my whole life. drama after drama, screaming match after brawl, tears after sobs—it's all the same everywhere i go. i'm over it.

i'm over people thanking me for shit i didn't want to deal with. it feels meaningless.

but i don't fight back. i bite my tongue and bear it. because what else is there to do?

"sure, Flo," i finally croak after a few minutes. "goodnight, Flo."

i receive soft snores in response. i shut the door behind me and flop onto my bed, my body sinking into the lumpy mattress. swirls of color decorate my vision as exhaustion takes over my eyes.

my mind drifts off to many things, mainly ruminating over my next work shift and my roommate's conduct, before sleep finally wins and i knock out within minutes.

[specialistpinky]

*♡ big juicy ♡* | choso x oc

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「 ✦ vodka cranberry ✦ 」

wc: 4.3k

baby, my room is the g-spot call me mr. flintstone, i can make yo bed rock

—BEDROCK by YOUNG MONEY, LLOYD

i wouldn't consider myself unintelligent more than i consider myself naïve or gullible. i'm loyal to a fault. i can't help being that way, especially with people that mark themselves in my life. i know Kiki would beat my ass if she found out where i was right now.

but i can't get enough of him.

i know what we have is toxic. i know this man has broken my heart more than a teen heartthrob on TV. i know damn well this man has no intention of marrying me or being the least bit civil and domestic.

but i can't get enough of him.

he's garbage boyfriend material and a dumpster fire of a man but an excellent, steadfast, and generous lover. in other words, he be beating my shit the fuck in like i stole somethin'. he be fucking me like a shitty honda civic driver on the interstate: hard and furious. he also eat my shit from the back like a pack of fucking skittles, tasting every color of the rainbow.

really, he's lucky i like it rough, otherwise, his teeth would be decorating the fucking sidewalk by now.

but as i said, i cannot get enough of him.

"ooh, fuck, baby, right there!"

so, here i am, laying in this man's rickety bed covered in a singular sheet, my legs wide open, my knees damn near touching my ears and my thighs jiggling with each thrust he drills into me like a construction worker. he holding my throat with one humongous ass hand while the other holds his body upright. the room is spinning and my body sore, but my pussy is fucking throbbing and fluttering with his fat ass dick in me.

"yeah, baby, you like this dick all in your stomach, huh?" he grunts in my ear, panting and groaning like a rutting dog. i whimper, arching my back and rolling my hips to meet his strokes. surely that gives enough indication as to how much i like it.

he moves from my throat to my chin and forces me to look straight at him. i instinctively close my eyes knowing he don't like it when i look at him while we fuck. something about it reminds him of his first wife too much.

not to speak ill of the dead, but sometimes, i feel like i'm competing with her even after her life has ceased. i try not to give it too much thought as he fucks the life outta me—no pun intended.

i try opening my eyes back up, but he's fucking too good for me to even try, so i let them roll back instead. my stomach coils, the heat of my loins raising my temperature and bringing me closer to climax.

i moan with each thrust that connects our pelvises, my voice going up several octaves. i'm sure his neighbors can hear by now, and they probably think i'm dying, but i don't give a fuck. this man is fucking my brains to mush, so it's hard to be considerate of other people while i'm chasing my pleasure.

"fuck, daddy, you feel so fuckin' good," i mewl, gripping the sheet below me.

i clench around his fat dick, making him grunt and grip my throat, digging his nails into my skin. he sits up to grip my hips, leaving me to wrap my legs around his waist and bring our bodies closer. i continue rolling my hips and clenching as a nice little combo.

he smirks, making the scar on his mouth stretch. "fuck, you're squeezing my dick so hard right now. gonna make me cum, baby," he rasps, his strokes stuttering before he lets out a loud groan and hunches, lowering down to shove his face in my neck. his voice vibrates against my flesh as he husks out of breath, "you want me to cum inside, mama?"

i nod frantically and whimper, "ooo, yes, daddy, wan' you to cum allinsideme—fuck me, oh my GOD!"

my eyes widen then screw shut as his thrusts change from hard and fast to deep, slow strokes. he sits back up, holding my waist and just plowing my shit. i mean, if you was being fucked the way this man was fucking me, you'd come back, too. i swear on my life i will never take him back, but the dick puts me in another world, another universe, another fucking dimension.

god, he's so fucking sexy it makes me fucking feral. i want this man to fuck me over and over until i can't feel anything below my waist and all i can repeat is his name on my tongue.

his dick throbs one, two, three times as he pants, "here it comes, baby. 'm gonna fuckin' cum inside you. take this big dick. take this fuckin' nut, baby. oh, shit!" his breath shakes as he paints my insides like a fucking canvas. i keep my eyes closed, biting my lip as he unloads himself in me, thrusting in and out past orgasm. he starts to tremble, so to add insult to injury, i squeeze him, keeping him inside. i like to make sure i've milked him for all he's worth. it's the least he can do to make up for being such a shitty ex.

i grab one of his hands and take one of his fingers into my mouth, suckling on them one by one. it's times like these when i wanna look him straight in the eyes. my heart tinges a bit at the thought of something that'll never happen.

once i've got his fingers nice and wet, i let the last digit leave my mouth with a pop.

i feel him slowly pull out. i look down, watching his dick coated in our fluids ease out of me, making me whine at the emptiness.

suddenly, i'm being hauled up by my ankles and having my legs hung right over his shoulders and my body pushed upwards. i'm being folded even further, my spine feeling like it's gonna break this way. he stays on his knees, straightening his posture and practically lifting me up as he wraps his arms around my thighs, his fingers situated right between them as he zeroes in on my cunt.

"we ain't done, sweetheart," he husks before diving straight in. his nose bumps into my clit while his tongue fucks me nice and slow. i can barely think or move in this position. all i can do is squirm and minutely roll my hips to meet his mouth. i cover my mouth this time and let out several weakly muffled screams.

this man makes my entire world stop when he's between my legs. when he eats me out, i can't tell if i'm alive or if i've gone to heaven. whatever god sent me this man, i just wanna thank them right now, and i couldn't ask for more.

my eyes flutter open, blinking a few times as they adjust to the moonlight filtering in through the window. i yawn, stretching my body and letting my bones creak and crack. i roll my head around before landing my sight on Toji sitting at the edge of the bed.

"hey," i croak, "how long was i out?"

it takes him a second to respond. "dunno."

i yawn again before speaking through it, "what time is it?"

"11:45."

i sit up straight with widened eyes. "in the morning?"

"at night."

i sigh, throwing an arm over my head. "whew, thank god."

i lay back down. "Kiki's 'posed to pick me up, though. she prolly blowin' me up right now. why you ain't wake me up?"

i feel the bed dip beside me. "you looked peaceful," he says. he grabs my arm, intertwining our fingers, kissing each knuckle. "didn't wanna wake you."

i smile a bit, simultaneously cherishing and resenting the warm feeling in my belly from his affection.

"you know, you're welcome to stay," he husks, peaking from behind our hands and smirking. he moves to hover over my body, planting open-mouthed kisses on my bare stomach as he makes his way up to my neck.

i bask in his affectionate gestures before shaking my head and lightly pushing him back. "mm–mmm. got class tomorrow. can't miss the first day."

he lifts his head and gives me an unreadable look, then gets out of the bed and shuffles through our piles of clothes on the floor. Toji shoves his sweats on, his back and shoulders flexing the way i like.

"you know, maybe you should find a woman your own age by now," i say, still dazed from my nap but feeling a little cheeky.

"huh?"

"my mama tell me i shouldn't be fuckin' wit'chu and be wit' someone my age, but i mean, i'on really care cuz i'm a grown ass woman and i do what i want, but like, don't you wanna settle down and have more kids and shit one of these days? cuz i sure as shit don't want that anytime soon."

"woman, what are you going on about?" he drones, pulling out a shirt from a drawer. he brings it to his nose and sniffs it, shrugging before putting it on, making me scrunch my nose in disapproval.

"like, don't you wanna give Megumi—"

"don't," he hisses, sighing out his nose and looking over his shoulder with a scowl. "don't bring him up."

"why not?" i ask, turning over on my stomach.

"he's my son, and if i don't wanna talk about him, then i won't."

"you never wanna talk about your son. even when we was dating, you never wanted to bring him around me."

"because he's none of your concern," he claps back, grabbing a pack of smokes and a lighter from his nightstand.

he walks around the bed out of my line of sight, heading over to the corner nook. i hear the latch unlock before the window opens and his lighter clicks a few times until it stops. i barely hear the flickering flame over our heavy breathing before it's snuffed with a soft click!

and this shit is the reason why we broke up in the first place, i think to myself, rolling my eyes before hopping out the bed. i feel his snake eyes burning holes in my asscheeks.

"old perv," i mumble as i shimmy my skirt back on.

"old? tell me how you really feel, sweetheart," he hums.

i bend down to pick up my bra and tank top from the pile. i hear Toji walking up behind me before his hand swats my ass, making me yelp and almost face-plant into the ground at the sheer force.

i grimace at the floor while Toji snickers and walks out the bedroom.

"get home safe, baby," he said, his voice fading into the hallway. "see you next time."

i scoff, shoving my shirt over my head and smoothing out any wrinkles. he's so smug and sure of himself that i'll be back it makes my fucking ass itch. what's even worse is he's right: the dick too bomb to quit. i definitely plan on making a return so long as he's digging me out like an excavator.

i check myself out in his cracked vanity mirror, fixing my hair and puckering my lips at my reflection. still sexy as always as a bad bitch should be, even after being thoroughly fucked and creampied several times.

i grab my purse off the nightstand, exiting Toji's apartment into the cool midnight air. i pull my phone out, dialing Kiki's number.

"hey, this Kiki! can't pick up your call right now. you know what to do."

beep!

damn it! she turned her fucking phone off? she could've at least told me so i know to find a ride. fuck, and she know i don't got my car.

i ruminate over my options. i can't go back to Toji's cuz he'd hold me hostage and fuck my brains out until i couldn't walk, and i got class tomorrow, so that's out the window.

i can't take the bus; they stopped running a few hours ago.

i don't even know if Choso has a car nor do i know if he even has a phone. not like i can call him since i don't have his number.

i can call a taxi, but i need to find a number first.

i sigh, wishing i had known it was gon' be chilly cuz then i woulda stole one of Toji's jackets 'fore i left. i wrap my arms around myself to keep warm, walking around for any open place, keeping my head on a swivel. after about 15 minutes of meandering, my eyes spot a small building across the street with a blaring neon blue sign on top.

the domain , it reads.

a bar, maybe? or a strip joint?

either way, it means people and warmth, both of which i need right now.

i look both ways before jogging across the street to the entrance, nearly charging into the place before an arm is stuck out in front of me.

"i.d., please," a low, gruff voice says.

right, i forgot they do that. i dig through my purse to grab my wallet, grabbing my i.d. and handing it over to the bouncer. they take it swiftly. i look up to make a face at them for snatching it, then i pause, studying the person before me.

"Choso?"

he looks up at me. his deadpan expression doesn't change much, but the look in his eyes tells me he's surprised to see me.

he eyes me up and down. "hey."

"...hi."

there's a pause between us. we stare at each other for a moment, not saying a word or moving. finally, he breaks the silence.

"what're you doing here?" he nods his head and squints at me like he's suspicious.

i sigh, smacking my teeth. "what're you doing here?" i bite, crossing my arms and popping my hip.

he mimics my stance, his face unchanging as he replies, "i work here."

i roll my eyes. "yeah, i figured. now that we've established the obvious, can you let me in?"

"not until you answer my question," he says.

what the fuck? why does he wanna know so bad?

"shouldn't you be doing your job instead of interrogating me about what the fuck my grown ass is doing?"

Choso cocks an eyebrow, staying quiet.

fuckin' dickhead.

"i'm here to apply for a stripper job—the fuck it look like?" i say sarcastically.

he scoffs. "yeah, right."

i rub my forehead and close my eyes in irritation. "dude, why you givin' me shit right now? i just wanna go in."

"i thought you were with your friend."

i suck my teeth. "i was," i groan. "then she needed to get ready for dinner with her boyfriend, so i told her to drop me off at another friend's place."

i left out the part about my friend being my ex-boyfriend/current sex fling.

"where is she now?"

"i just told you where she was."

"so, why can't you call her and get back?"

i kiss my teeth, pinching the bridge of my nose. "she was supposed to be pickin' me up before she went, but i overslept at my friend's. i left and went to call her, but she turned her fuckin' phone off and didn't tell me, so i'm technically stranded."

"you don't have a car?" he asks.

"not at the moment," i grit.

he stares at me, his face contorting into one of confusion. "so, why are you here, then?"

i bite the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming.

"i need to call a cab," i say calmly, my voice scratchy. "dude, just let me in. i'm tired and wanna go back."

i turn my head to the side and run a hand over my face, discreetly wiping tears of frustration away before they fall; not too comfortable letting a man i just met less than 24 hours ago watch me cry.

i hold back a whimper, the lump lodged in my throat becoming increasingly unbearable as i feel his eyes situate themselves on my trembling figure.

i avoid his gaze and keep my attention on the ground, holding onto my elbows. a breeze blows past me, making me shudder. why is it so cold all of a sudden?

"cold?"

another astute observation from captain piss-a-bitch-off. i can hear the smug grin plastered on his not-so-ugly mug. i think he's broken the record for the fastest time to annoy the shit outta me. he lucky he tolerable to look at.

i swallow my pride for a second, responding without snark, still not looking at him. "didn't account for the late-night adventure before i left the dorm," i rasp.

i feel something fall on my shoulders, seeing sleek black material cover my arms. i look up at him again.

he nods his head to go inside. "go ahead," he says, handing my i.d. back. "i'll take you home after my shift. i'm off in a couple hours."

i give him a lopsided smile before clutching the jacket and making my way inside, beelining for the bar.

i pat the counter as i sit down. "two vodka cranberries, please."

the bartender nods without turning around and says, "you got it."

i thank them, turning in my chair to observe the place. there's a good amount of people, not jam-packed and stuffy but enough bodies to warm up the joint. i shimmy the jacket off, letting my arms breathe.

the decor screams strip club: bright neon lights, velvet seating, raised platforms, and red ropes. the place is dark enough to get away with shit but light enough to see properly without tripping over your own feet.

of course, as i expected, there are half-clad dancers up front, some on poles and others giving personal dances to patrons. they're all super pretty and skilled; very strong-willed dancing for older men who're way too handsy, aren't attractive, and degenerate as hell.

"three vodka cranberries coming at you."

i spin around, watching the glasses slide in front of me without a drop spilling. "oh, uh, i only ordered–”

“i know,” the bartender said, making direct eye contact with me as they fixed up someone else’s drink, adding everything into the shaker without missing a beat before closing the lid and giving the drink a nice shake. “you seem stressed,” they continued, pulling out a glass from below and straining the drink into it, “enjoy, ma’am.”

“oh. well, thank you," i say, still somewhat baffled. picking up the first one, i gulp it down halfway. the burn of the alcohol sends a shiver down my spine and coils in my stomach as i slam the cup down.

i never thought i would end up in a strip club in all 23 years of my life, but here i am. i take a slow sip of my drink this time.

"enjoying the show?"

i yelp, spitting some of my drink out and covering my mouth in embarrassment. he throws his back in laughter, a real hearty sound from the depths of his chest echoing over the loud music.

i lower my hand, revealing a scowl. i release my crashing clench on the glass and wipe the spat-out alcohol off my chest. "dick."

"sorry, i couldn't resist," he says as his laughter simmers down. "you just look so on edge and out of place."

i huff out of my nose, flipping a stray piece of hair out my face and curling my lip at him. "and you don't?"

he looks down at himself, then back at me with a slight smile. "touché, woman. touché." he takes a seat next to me, leaning an arm against the bar and facing the commotion. “i’m gonna clock out and talk to my boss for a bit. don’t go anywhere,” he commands, walking off without another word. i watch him, staring at his back as he meanders through the crowd and slips behind a brown door.

i finish my first drink with a wince, reveling in the vodka running through my nose when i breathe in.

"hey, sweetheart."

i immediately cringe at the feeling of hot breath on my neck. what's even worse is that i can smell how hot it is with how close this asshole is.

managing not to vomit and avoiding conversation, i grab my second vodka cranberry and take a decent gulp.

"wanna head to mine for a little nightcap? promise i'll make you feel real good, pretty lady."

i fix my mouth to say no, but he cuts me off.

“i’ll treat ya real nice, honey~! my ex-wife always said i was a good’un in th’ sack. that is, she said that before that backstabbing, two-timing, no-good daughter of a fuckin’ whore cheated on me—twice!” he yells directly in my right ear, his venomous spit coating the hairs on the back of my neck like rain on grass blades. except it isn’t pleasant or calming.

"c'mon, baby, talk to me," the man whines, his ice-cold hand sitting on my lower back. i freeze. i inhale sharply and sit there listening to more of his unwarranted plans to violate me while his hand travels further down. i want to break the glass in my hand and take a piece and stab this goblin-faced fuck in the neck so that he stops breathing on me (and stops breathing altogether, really), but my body refuses to listen to my brain pleading to move.

"hey, buddy."

i whip my head to the left, seeing Choso walk up to me and the creep touching me. i turn the other way, seeing the creep smirk and slur at Choso, "i called dibs on’er, so beat it, asshole."

before i can see exactly what's happening, a sickening crack echoes through the club followed by some scattered gasps from patrons.

i watch the creep on the floor cradling his nose and groaning as blood spills onto his face. Choso wordlessly drags the guy by the collar to the front, chucking the guy out into the cold with no hesitation.

i expel a ragged breath i didn't even know i was holding. he wipes his hands on his clothes, straightening his shirt before strolling back to the bar.

"Uraume, tell Sukuna to blacklist another one," he says to the bartender.

"already pulling his tab. asshole never tipped, anyway," they chuckle, wiping some glasses with a wry grin.

Choso turns to me. "you good?" i don't trust my voice, so i nod lightly. i grab hold of my last drink, knock my head back, and chug, not caring if the alcohol shreds through my esophagus.

slamming the cup down, i let a belch rip, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand before sighing. "let's go," i demand, pulling out my wallet to pay.

i open it up. my eyebrows pinch together as i look inside of it.

"what the fuck?" i whisper to myself.

i dig in it, finding no cash. i swear i had $30 last time i checked. i made sure to only use my card for shopping and lunch today, so i should have some money left.

“what the fuck?” i swear louder.

"what?" Choso asks, “what is it?”

i check the bottom of my purse then the other compartments where i hide money sometimes—only to find fuckin' nothing.

i sweep the ground, but it's too dark to see.

i pat my chest a couple of times and reach into my shirt, checking a small hole in my bra i use for emergency money.

"what the fuck!"

my breathing quickens and becomes shallow, vodka-induced rage buzzing throughout my body. i'm trying my hardest not to swipe everyone's drinks right now as i come to terms with reality.

that motherfucker robbed me!

this isn't the first time he's done this. when we were together, he used to hug me as an excuse to pinch my wallet when i knew he wasn't very affectionate. i didn't pick up on it the first few times until Kiki told me she saw us hug and watched him hide one hand in his pocket after we pulled apart.

after that, i always made sure to keep my cash in my bra and my purse in my car.

i can see how he got into my purse since i brought it inside with me, but i guess the bum caught on eventually to the bra trick.

i cannot believe i let my guard down.

i clutch my head in my hands, banging my head on the edge of the wooden counter. "oh my fuckin' god. i can't believe this shit, man!" i complain, pounding my fist down on the bar counter.

"Flo, what're you screaming abo—oh, shit."

i can imagine the dirty looks thrown my way, but i don't care. they would be screaming too if they found they got robbed by their ex way after the fact. i lift my head and look at my roommate. “what’re you saying ‘oh shit’ for?”

the man points to my face. "um, your forehead is..."

"is what?" i parrot harshly, glowering at Choso right as i feel something trickle down the bridge of my nose. i blink in surprise and touch my forehead, bringing my hand down to see blood on my fingertips.

"shit," i curse and cup my forehead, wincing at the sting of the wound.

"alright, let's go," Choso suggests gruffly, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as we stand. he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a $20, slamming it on the table. "keep the change, Uraume!" he shouts over his shoulder as he hauls me out of the joint.

[specialistpinky]

fuckin problems. .° ༘🎧⋆🖇₊ toji fushiguro.

sum. toji’s prepping for a fight night match and his trainer was adamant that women would be a distraction. when he sees you in the gym late one night, obviously all of that changes.

wc. 4.8k

tags. boxer!tojixcollege student!reader, (it isn’t mentioned in the fic.) toji and reader are mid-twenties, reader is fem and black. modern au, unprotected, pússy eating, shower sèx, toji’s a bit of a hoe, dacryphilia, praise kink (lots of pet names!!) set in a gym, some workout terms used.

an. i’m back . . . did you guys miss me? 🥹 i worked really hard on this. i hope you enjoy it.

i love bad bitches, that’s my fuckin problem . . . and yeah, i like to fuck, i got a fuckin’ problem.

loud music blaring through his black airpod maxes drowns out the harsh clang of the weighted barbell making contact with sleek, black hardwood beneath him. chest heaving, toji wipes his sweaty forehead with the hem of his compression shirt. he’d just finished his last set of heavy romanian deadlifts, the last exercise of five—and he doesn’t know if it was through discipline or pure willpower. he’s internally cursing his trainer. he’s a boxer, not training to be a part of the fucking avengers.

and with being a professional boxer, being physically fit comes with the territory. toji knows that. it was recommended he switch from his last gym to this one. virtually unknown and far from paparazzi and groupies. lowkey. he can deal with that. this new regimen his mentor had implemented, though? it would be his undoing.

aside from working out six days a week with a new grueling routine, there were now rules toji had to abide by—upon breaking them, he’d be ineligible for the upcoming heavyweight championship match in a few weeks. there were only four temptations he was to avoid: liquor, greasy food, staying up late . . . and this last one toji dreads, no women. no sexual intercourse of any kind.

that was a fucking problem.

no conceited shit, toji knows he is attractive. he’s built. tall, tatted from the neck down with sculpted abs that could’ve been crafted by god himself. he can’t even go to the grocery store without being approached by women. and whether these women were drawn to his fame or brawn, toji didn’t care either way—what sane man would turn down pussy without any attachments?

halle berry, hallelujah. holla back, ima do ya, beast!

taking a seat on the rubber bench behind him, toji stares at his reflection in the mirror. dim hex lights that hang from above cast dark shadows over his bulky figure, highlighting the definition in his biceps and glinting micro cuban link dangling from his neck. veined, inked hands reach for the nike water bottle on the floor, tipping his head back as he shoots a stream of cold water into his open mouth. as much as he hates this new routine, he’d be lying if he said the results weren’t rewarding.

toji has no intentions of abstaining from sex completely. sure he could do a few days, he wasn’t an addict . . . but two weeks? fuck no. there’s too many beautiful women out here that deserve his dick and undivided attention . . . and when his tired eyes land on you, setting up on a smith machine across the room in this navy matching set that molds on your body like a second skin? toji’s never been more sure that he’d break a rule in his life. not like he’s ever been much of a rule follower anyway.

he watches you, shamelessly. upon doing so, he realizes this wasn’t the first time he’s seen you. you always stick to the smith machines and free weights right next to them, minding your business in your own little world. he doesn’t think you’ve spared him a glance since he’s joined. with interest now piqued, steel eyes observe you mid-workout with newfound curiosity.

you’re pretty. glossed lips pouted in exertion, sweat glistening on exposed skin like diamonds. chocolate brown eyes glued to your reflection. the navy blue crop top and legging set compliments your brown skin, accentuating the curves toji can tell you’ve worked hard for. he almost catches himself drooling . . . but the longer toji watches through your set of squats, there’s something glaring at him that he can’t quite ignore.

your form is fucking terrible.

maybe it’s fatigue or the weight being too heavy for you to handle—but years of training makes it easy for him to spot the mistakes being made. rounded shoulders, anterior tilt, and poor foot placement. your back will be sore as fuck once you’re finished, he’s sure of it . . .

. . . it’d be wrong to not help fix your problem, right?

locking the bar into the safety hook, you plop yourself down onto the nearest bench, completely out of breath. this workout had you fighting for your life. it’s been a while since you’ve been to the gym, but damn, you didn’t realize you fell off this badly.

this is why you always come to this gym late at night: free to make a fool of yourself without having to worry about stares from nosy strangers. motivation’s been low but with discipline, you’ve made so much progress towards your body goals—you can’t tap out now.

you look down at your apple watch. 1:35 am. if you lock in for this last set, you can pack up and be out of here by 2. leaning forward, you tighten the laces of your grey new balances. cockiness by rihanna blaring in your ears, you nod your head along to the beat, mentally psyching yourself up to push through this shit. you almost don’t notice the person standing in front of you, their black nikes in your peripheral vision.

almost.

what the fuck? you straighten up, blood rushing to your ears from the quick movement. angling your beats off your ear, the words come out before you get a good look at this person who decided to rudely disturb you, “can i help you?”

the person, a man, chuckles in response. “nah . . . i was thinking maybe i could help you, though.”

oh? you have to crane your neck to really see him, he towers over you. shit, you don’t think it’d make a difference if you were standing. grey sweatpants hang low on his hips, sharp v-line peeking over black calvin klein. he’s got a white towel slung over broad shoulders, contrasting the vibrant hues of ink on his neck. he looks . . . familiar. his cool steel eyes and scarred lip are ringing bells in your head but he looks so fucking good, you aren’t really thinking about a damn thing.

he doesn’t wait for your answer, noting the way you’re ogling him. “i’m toji and you are . . . ?”

yes, toji. you remember who he is now. your best friend had shown you a reel of him boxing just the other day. you didn’t know much about boxing but toji is finer in person. finer than the pictures you’d seen when scrolling on his instagram. (how was that even possible?)

shit, you’re staring hard as fuck. “( 🫶🏾 ).” you say with a sheepish smile. he returns it with one of his own. you extend your hand for him to shake, “i know you, i’ve seen you before.”

“beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” he muses, lifting your hand into his much bigger one, kissing the back of it. you roll your eyes. the compliment was corny, predictable even . . . so why does it have your heart beating in your chest and between your thighs?

“you said you’ve seen me before. you don’t look like much of a boxing fan . . .” he probes with a brow raised. he isn’t surprised when you shake your head no, nothing about you gives avid sports watcher. he doesn’t press on it, opting to get straight to the point. “mhm. i don’t want this to sound weird but i was watching when you were doing squats and i noticed that your form could use some . . . work.”

damn, was it that obvious?

heat prickles up your neck, flushing your face in embarrassment. you can’t believe he saw you … had he been watching the whole time? you’re mortified at the possibility. you attempt to hide your face in your hands but it does little to ease the self-consciousness twisting your insides. with your words muffled, the only thing toji can make out is you muttering i feel so stupid.

“hey, hey. don’t say that. you’re not stupid.”

he crouches down, his touch gentle as he coaxes your hands away from your face and into his again. you’re avoiding his gaze, thick brows furrowed and glossy lips pouted. so cute. “it happens to the best of us, don’t overthink it.” he stands to his full height, tugging you up with him. “i can help you correct it and you’ll never have to worry about fucking up again . . . sound good, doll?”

his reassurance makes your heart flutter. he seems genuine so why would you decline his offer? just like that, any lingering feelings of embarrassment are gone. you give a quick nod, biting back a smile. “mhm, sounds good.”

he leads you over to the smith machine, bright pink neck pad on the bar a clear indicator it was the one you’d been using. you bend below it, eyes following his form in the mirror as he swaps out current weight plates with lighter ones, you presume. it’s hard not to watch him. veins bulge through the colored ink on his forearms, beefy muscles flexing with each plate he lifts. he has this aura about him . . . masculine. mysterious. it turns you on. everything about this man makes you horny and you just met him.

his eyes catch yours in the mirror, smirking at the way you quickly avert them. “is it okay if i . . . ?” he stands directly behind you, thick fingers hovering over your hips. you nod consent, breath hitching at the way they shape on your curves. you swear you feel them through your leggings. (or maybe that’s just what you want to happen instead.)

he’s keeping a respectable distance between your bodies but he’s close enough that the scent of his expensive cologne lingers in the air. it’s making you dizzy. he leans down, lips brushing your earlobe as he directs you. “tilt your hips forward, baby.” his thumbs lightly press on your lower back for emphasis. he hums in approval when it feels right. “that should help your back . . . and feet should be parallel, doll. you’ve got em too far.”

after a few more adjustments, he does a onceover, taking in your form. you don’t miss the way his eyes linger on your ass longer than they should. not that you minded. you fight the urge to bite the tip of your acrylic. you know you’ve gotten thick, he can barely handle it!

“mhm, you’re ready.” he says, lifting the bar off the safety hook and lowering it onto your shoulders. you wrap your fingers around the cool steel, preparing yourself for what’s to come. “you’re gonna push this set to failure for me, baby.”

“what?” you weren’t prepared for that. does this man want you to die? you’ve been through enough tonight. you shake your head with your face scrunched up in disapproval, “i can’t do that shit—“

“you can.” he reiterates, cutting your train of thought short. his hands gently rub up your hips, settling at your waist. “you can and you will.” the dominant edge in his voice makes the hairs on your nape stand on end, next words caught in your throat as your eyes meet again in the mirror.

his glare is smoldering, dark with such raw intensity that you can feel the lust exuding off him. god, it’s intimidating. he’s intimidating but you can’t look away, your own arousal pooling in your panties. he commands your attention without saying a single word. it’d be embarrassing if you weren’t utterly and completely enamored with this man. you’re ready to fold and let him have his way with you.

he maintains that eye contact as he leans down, tilting his head to ensure his words meet your ears. his voice drops to a husky whisper, raspy with a hunger that threatens to consume him. “i got somethin’ for you when you’re done. so be a good girl and finish up for me, hm?”

goosebumps raise on your soft skin like wildfire, audibly swallowing once his words completely settle in. “oh . . . o-okay.”

you’re not sure if that was a threat or a promise. either way, the implications of what he said sent a shock of nervous excitement coursing through your body. it serves as the motivation you need to push you through the rest of your workout, and there’s one thought plaguing your mind while you’re doing it:

what exactly is he going to do to you?

ㅤ♡ྀི ₊

toji knows eating it from the back in the gym shower when he just met you less than two hours ago is crazy. does he give a fuck? absolutely not.

you’re pressed up against the shower wall and toji’s kneeling behind you, his big hands trailing up the back of your thighs. you thought the warm stream of water on your skin would ease the anxiety bubbling in your belly. but it only serves to heighten your sensitivity even more—each graze of toji’s fingertips sends spikes of heat up your spine, breath hitching the closer he gets to your most sensitive parts. the steam envelopes the two of you in the small space, and it’s like it clouds your vision and common sense.

“toji, c’mon—need you, hurry up.” you whine, looking back at him over your shoulder with needy eyes, impatience growing by the minute. it’s obvious he’s dragging this out to tease you and you’re over it. you need his mouth—his tongue— on you now.

toji chuckles; the desperation in your voice makes his dick pulse against his thigh. unbeknownst to you, the feeling is mutual and he’s about to show you how real it is. “i told you i got you, didn’t i? just relax baby, lemme take care of you.”

he spreads your asscheeks with his palms, using his thumbs to part your lower lips at the same time. your pussy is so pretty, gleaming with slick, swollen clit peeking out your folds. he groans low in his throat as your hole clenches around nothing, the urge to devour you whole overwhelming him. usually, he wouldn’t eat a stranger out, but something tells him it’d be a disservice to himself to fuck without tasting you first.

fuck it. he leans in, plump lips latching onto your lower ones before dipping his tongue into your hole, lapping up all your juices that have accumulated there. he’s so into it, he doesn’t even fight the moan that slips out when your pussy is sweeter than he thought it’d be. and you’re gasping at the vibrations that ripple through your body like shockwaves, your hand reaching behind to grab onto his damp locks. the tugs on his scalp urge him on, and he lays his tongue flat, dragging up your slit until he reaches your clit, sealing his mouth around the bud.

your jaw goes slack, unable to contain the whimpers and moans that fall out your mouth as your hips jerk back onto his tongue, your hand buried in his hair, pulling him deeper into your cunt. “ahhn toji, oh f-fuck, feel s’goodd.”

“mhm, pussy tastes so good, baby. ride my fuckin face, c’mon—” his words are muffled within your heat, but you get the idea when his strong arms wrap around your thighs, ensuring you won’t slide on the slippery tile beneath you. water cascades off the curve of your back as you arch up into his mouth, using the grip you have on his locks and your other hand bracing the wall to fuck his face with precision.

instead of keeping his head still, toji moves in tandem with your hips—up and down, side to side, licking and slurping anywhere his tongue can reach. he’s eating you like a man starved, sucking your pussy into his mouth greedily, nose bumping your perineum as he fucks you with his tongue, meeting each grind of your hips halfway like he’s fucking you for real. moving both hands to cup and smack on the globes of your ass, he pulls and tugs on your throbbing clit with his lips, producing sounds so sloppy and nasty, louder than the water rushing between your bodies—and your cries reach beautiful crescendos that have his ears ringing delightfully and dick throbbing, painfully hard and oozing precum on his toned stomach.

(the thought of dropping a hand between his legs doesn’t even cross his mind, not when he’s so focused on making you cum.)

all that’s coming out your mouth are praises, curses and his name. “t-toji, toji! baby, oooh shit. don’t stop, don’t stop!” you can barely think, let alone breathe—he’s taking your soul, and you can’t keep up, legs trembling and stomach caving in as you succumb to the pleasure overloading your body, “m’closee, gonna cum!”

toji keeps his movements consistent, staying right where you need him, tongue heavy and long on your aching cunt. his voice is hoarse as he encourages what’s to come, rough and demanding, “yeeeah, gimme that shit, mama. cum for me.”

his words are the final thread that makes you snap. that invisible knot in your stomach unravels and you’re cumming hard, his lower face drenched as you bless him with your essence. toji works you through your orgasm, not stopping until you weakly attempt to push his head away, body shuddering in the blissful aftershocks. begrudgingly, toji parts from your pussy, dick jumping as he watches the mix of his saliva and your own cum drooling out of you before standing up, turning all his attention to your slumped form.

you’re a mess, the prettiest mess toji thinks he’s ever seen—his arm slung around your waist is the only thing keeping you upright. disheveled curls stick to your hot skin, chest heaving as you struggle to catch your breath, head lolling back onto his broad shoulder. he has to laugh. you’re so fucked out and he hasn’t even fucked you yet.

“already tired, mama? m’just gettin’ started.” he murmurs teasingly, licking a stripe of the column of your neck. he leaves wet, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, stopping the moment his lips hover over yours, contemplating what he should do—he really wants to kiss you. and he can tell by that doe-eyed look you’re giving him that you want to kiss him, too. so you make the decision for him, curling a hand into his hair and tugging him down so your lips can meet his halfway in a passionate kiss.

you moan into his mouth as he slips his fat tongue in yours, water beating on his back as he bends down to deepen the kiss. tasting yourself on his tongue feels so sinful, but you can’t get enough of it—clinging onto him to ensure your lips stay connected. his hands grip at your ass roughly, and you gasp when you feel his dick prodding between your thighs, hips rolling as he slides his length against your cunt, polishing it with all the juices there.

“so fuckin’ wet for me,” he mumbles against your lips, separating them with a lewd schlick. he wraps his fist around the base of his cock, tapping his swollen tip on your clit, bottom lip caged under his teeth as he watches you twitch and whine from his teasing, a hot rush of blood shooting straight to his dick. he knows your pussy will feel as heavenly as you taste—he’s itching to be proven right. “gonna be a good girl and take all this dick?”

his question is rhetorical—because he knows you will—but you answer it anyway, nodding as you look up to him with lidded, lust-filled eyes, hips arching back with desire, “mhm, i will. give it to me, toji.”

he feels his balls tighten at your erotic profession. damn, he thinks as he tilts his head to the ceiling. when you talk like that, how could he not fold? who would he be to deny you of what you need?

. . . he’s so cooked. he’s certain that out of all the woman he’s fucked in his life, he doesn’t think he’s wanted of them half as bad as he wants you right now.

with his free hand on your hip, he eases himself into your cunt, the both of you letting out sighs of pleasure as your folds latch onto his length immediately, sucking him in—greedy for every inch he’s gifting you. he has to take deep, slow breathes once he finally bottoms out—you feel so fucking good and he hasn’t even started moving yet.

his hand around your waist slides upward, cupping around the fullness of your breast, rolling a pert nipple between index and thumb fingers. he seals his mouth over yours again, nibbling and biting at your kiss-bitten lips. you’re melting into his touch, you’re so gone—you don’t even realize that he’s distracting you until he draws his hips back, pulling out until only his fat tip is left inside to drill his dick right back in, balls slapping against your throbbing clit from the sudden movement.

it catches you completely off guard, nearly choking on your spit as his pace picks up. your lips separate from his abruptly, saliva stretching between your mouths as your head tilts back, crying out, “t-tojiii, ohmygod!“

the pace he sets isn’t too fast nor too slow—but the force of his thrusts are enough to have your whole body jolting each time his hips connect with the swell of your ass. you’re clawing at his forearm, searching for something to ground you as he handles you like a doll. your mind is going hazy, and the sound of your asscheeks clapping on his pelvis intensifies your lust-induced trance tenfold.

“shit girl,” toji grunts through gritted teeth. he’s looking down, damp bangs clinging to his forehead as he watches where your bodies connect—his dick is glossy with your essence. your lips drag and clamp down on his shaft tightly with every grind of his hips, forming a ring of cream around his base. it’s hard to focus with the squelching of your pussy ringing in his ears, and combined with your moans echoing on the walls like a broken symphony, toji feels his restraint slipping too. his jaw slackens, allowing all his expletives and praise to flow freely, “fuck back on me, baby—mmm, just like that—feels so fuckin’ good.”

“you’re so b-big,” you whine pathetically, stuttering when his cock nudges that sweet spot along your gummy walls. your thighs tremble and burn with exertion as you obey, meeting his powerful thrusts in earnest. he’s too big, too thick—too much. the weight of his dick stretches your puffy lips to their capacity, bullying in deeper and deeper every time your pussy clenches in protest. so deep, you think you feel him in your stomach. too much, too much!

you grip his arm tighter, acrylic scraping veins as a broken cry rips from your mouth. god, your own voice doesn’t even sound like it belongs to you anymore, “nghh, too much! i c-can’t, i can’t!”

toji laughs. a deep, sexy sound that only amplifies the white heat searing through your bloodstream. you can’t see him, but you know he’s got that disgustingly handsome smirk on his scarred lips. you yelp when he lands a heavy hand on your ass, soothing the blow with his palm. “you can’t? but you’re takin’ it. i’m watchin you take it, just like you said you would. good girl, good fuckin’ girl.”

his nasty words are punctuated with every thrust, sending waves of euphoria right to the pit of your belly. you feel a familiar pressure building there, a tight knot forming that has every nerve in your body going haywire. you feel delirious, completely weak in this man’s hold as he’s fucking you dumb. it’s as if toji can sense what’s coming because his arm is on your waist again, tugging you back onto his chest—but this time, his other hand snakes over your throat and squeezes, momentarily cutting your access to oxygen and reality, drawing your head back to meet his piercing steel eyes.

oh god. he has to stop himself from pumping you full of nut as he studies the dazed, fucked-out expression contorting your pretty features. it fucks with his train of thought, sends all the nerves in his brain into overdrive. he’s losing the last semblance of control he’d been desperately trying to hold onto, all thanks to you. or maybe, he was never really in control in the first place. maybe it doesn’t even matter as long as—

“gonna cum for me again? gonna cum all on this dick, baby?” he’s slurring over his words, keeping that firm pressure on your throat to elicit what he wants to hear. your chest caves in, little hiccups caught in the back of your throat, fighting for the air needed to speak.

“yesss,” you hiss, struggling to maintain eye contact with him as he pounds into your g-spot, over and over and over with no intentions of relenting. you’re seeing white. “s’close, s’closee. please please please—nghh yes, right there!“

“where? right here?“

he snaps his hips forward mercilessly, groaning carnally at the way your velvety walls lock down on his dick with pure desperation—for your release or his? toji’s not sure, nor does he care; all he knows is he’s falling in love with your pussy and how good it feels on his cock, his own orgasm approaching fast. “fuuuck, squeezing me so tight. ugh—tryna milk me, pretty girl? want me to fill you up? talk to me.”

“yes, yes, ooohh shiittt.” your high-pitched cries and gasps of ecstasy echo off the tile walls, fat tears brimming at your lashline. toji’s assault on your poor pussy is brutal and unrelenting, he won’t let up—and the moment his swollen tip grazes a sweet spot, deeper than he’s ever reached before? that tight knot in your belly forcibly unravels and explodes, your release gushing out of you before you can properly announce the flood incoming, “nghhh ah, m’cumming!”

“m-mhm, let it go baby, lemme feel it.”

with a shrill cry of his name, you do as told and cum hard. entire body quivering, shaking like a leaf, eyes scrolling back into the depths of your skull with tears streaking down your cheeks. you can feel your soul transcending onto another spiritual plane as the flow between your legs just won’t stop, and toji’s drowning in it—the tight contraction of your sopping walls and creamy squirt flowing out your cunt like a waterfall, pushing him out and sucking him in at the same time—it’s a battle that he’s bound to lose.

he doesn’t bother fighting it.

his thrusts come to an abrupt halt and with heavy, panting breaths, he’s cumming right with you—body shuddering as he paints every inch of your pussy with his nut, plugging his dick in deep to keep his seed from spilling out, though it seeps from the corners of your sore lips, a combination of both of your cum trailing down your trembling thighs in a nasty, sticky trail. it’s vulgar, obscene and he’s a whore, a true slut. of course it makes his softening dick twitch inside you at the sight. you whine in overstimulation, pushing at his chest for reprieve and he pulls out slow, compensating for the soreness he knows is imminent.

the small space is silent besides the sounds of rushing water and heavy breathing. coming down from that glorious high, post-nut clarity begins settling in and toji finds that it doesn’t push him to clean up and disappear, forget you, find another body to replace yours like it usually would.

no, it makes him want to . . . stay?

he’s been around the world, had women in positions you couldn’t even imagine and it’s never been a problem for him to move onto the next, no feelings or strings attached that’s just how he operates. so what makes you different? what is this weird feeling festering in his fucking chest? and why are you looking at him like you could be thinking the same exact thing?

he doesn’t even remember when you turned around or why your hands are caressing his face so gently, but he’s watching your plump lips move and he’s not hearing a word you’re saying.

“toji? you okay?”

he never thought he’d ever want to be tied down but how could he let you slip out his grasp? he’s ready to do the unthinkable, fuck what his coaches and pr team says. when toji has his eyes on something he wants, he gets it. it’s his world and he’s willing to give you a glimpse of what it’s like to be a part of that.

“if i told you i wanted to fly you out to vegas for fight night in a week, would you come?”

your eyes grow to the size of saucers, brows raising so high they almost disappear into your hairline. is he being serious?

“don’t play with me, toji. that’s not funny.”

he cocks his head to the side, thick brows furrowed. “why would i be playing? you think i do shit like this often?”

you suck your teeth. “of course you do, i know you got hoes, boy. i hope you don’t think i’m not tryna be a part of your little harem—“

you squeal as he swats your ass, holding your cheeks in his palms to pull you close. he lets your hoe accusations slide for now, but he’s waiting for your answer. “stop stalling. answer the question, girl.”

a free trip to vegas doesn’t sound too bad. you’re not too sure of what toji’s intentions are, but with the way he’s looking at you right now, biting his lips like he’s nervous about what you’ll say next? you don’t think you’ll have anything to worry about.

you wrap your arms around his shoulders, a wide smile etched on your lips. “of course i’ll come.”

@screampied @sunasbon @sugultt @preciousamethyst

steal my work and you die.

[specialistpinky]

*♡ big juicy ♡* | choso x oc

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「 ✦ gin & tonic ✦ 」

wc: 4.1k

buffed up like a jock, geeked up like a nerd bitch, i'm fly like a bird, i'm the shit like a turd

—NEW YEAR, SAME TRON by BABYTRON

dealing with random roommates has never been complicated for me. they usually keep to themselves or we become acquainted and keep in contact for emergencies or school-related things. it never goes past that.

i only dorm because it's convenient. my hometown is three hours away from the school, so commuting isn't a viable option. i also prefer not to live with my sperm donor and that hellspawn he calls a fiancée any longer than i already have.

i would've moved out and taken my brother with me ages ago had it not been for the awful job market and shit paychecks and i plan to move far, far away whenever i start my own law firm, but until then, i make do.

like i said, i don't usually mind having roommates—until today because this girl is a complete 180 from what i'm used to. she's loud, abrasive, vain, and completely inconsiderate of others. okay, well, i don't have evidence for that last part, but i will in due time.

she's been pissing me off since i opened the door. at first, i thought she might've been my new roommate’s girlfriend or a newbie asking for directions, but then she showed me her assignment letter.

man, i can't believe they stuck me with a chick! i mean, i don't care that she's a girl, but isn't there some kind of code when it comes to mixing guys and girls in dorms? maybe i shouldn't be surprised that housing messed this up considering how often they screw up my financial aid every year.

god, it's not even noon, and i'm already stressed out about shit that should have no bearing on my life.

i ponder my options with my hands in my head and elbows planted on my knees. i could contact the housing director, tell them i need a room or roommate swap. they'll put it in motion, and everything will be fine. right?

"hey, big bro! why you sittin' over there sulking? come join us!" Yuji yells, even though i'm only ten feet away.

i have the urge to scream as loud as possible, but instead, i breathe and stay put. i really don't feel like interacting with her more than i already have, so i refuse to do so.

"yeah, come join us," her voice chirps in, her tone almost teasing. i can practically hear the smirk on her face.

i lie down on the couch, groaning and keeping my hands over my face before they're pulled off to see Yuji beaming like the sun through the window, which are both obscuring my vision right now.

"sorry, big bro, you leave me no choice! get your ass up and say hi to Flo or i’ll do it for you!" he demands, grabbing my wrist and attempting to haul me up. he pulls a few times, grunting and using all of his effort but to no avail.

i look at him and blink. "who's Flo?"

he stops pulling on my arm and gasps, his mouth agape. "you don't know Flo?!" he shouts, waving his arms in the air frantically. "how do you not know your own roommate???"

i roll over onto my stomach, laying my head on my folded arms and shrugging. so that's her name, i think. can't say that's useless information, but i don’t see how it’s particularly important. didn’t find it important when i opened the door, and i don’t now.

Yuji squats down and starts rambling in my ear, gesturing wildly and shouting with excitement, "dude, Flo is so cool, big bro! she’s named after an Olympic runner from the 80s, which is funny because she tried running track in high school, but it didn't work out, so me and her are gonna train together! i'm gonna teach her how to run properly, and she said she'll help me with my homework and teach me how to drive—"

"yep, mm-hmm. sounds good, baby bro," i groan into my arms, closing my eyes, trying to recalibrate as my little brother blows my eardrum out. he continues ranting, unaware of the fact that i tuned him out as soon as he started talking. it’s unfortunate because i lack the energy and the heart to tell him to quiet down.

i love Yuji dearly. i think his passionate ramblings are entertaining and endearing. however, sometimes (most of the time), he doesn't know when to stop. probably because i enable him, so i have to be soft with him.

"hey, baby bro, do me a favor and—"

he cuts me off, finishing what i was gonna say, "inside voice. sorry, i was yelling again, wasn’t i?"

i nod, my eyes still closed and my head still planted on my arms. i let the silence surround me and bask in it.

of course, Yuji interrupts that as he pulls on my ankles, trying to drag me off the couch. i don't react, letting him tug until he gives up and lets go.

"damn it!" he heaves. "all of those exercise tapes and jiu-jitsu classes should've made me stronger by now. what the hell do you eat in a day, big bro?"

i shrug. "nothing that’ll make you bigger than me, baby bro."

"man, i know that! still worth trying, though,” he declares. he grabs my ankles a second time and pulls harder, but i only move about an inch off the couch. he lets go and huffs.

“fine, don't join us. guess you don't wanna hear how Flo used to be my camp counselor."

again, i say nothing to that, burying my face into the couch cushions but still eavesdropping on their conversation.

"dude, i can't believe you're here, Flo! you were literally my favorite camp counselor!"

"i can't believe you're my roommate's little brother. small world, isn't it?"

"it really is. you know, i miss that camp; some of the best times of my life. did you keep working there after i left?"

"yeah, i did, but i quit after i graduated high school. i miss it sometimes, too. we always had a blast together, didn't we, YuYu?"

"YuYu?" Yuji and i say simultaneously with drastically different reactions.

i sit up and look over the couch while Yuji laughs so hard he tips his chair over and falls to the floor. i glare at my roommate, suspicious as to where she got that nickname from and how she even knows Yuji well enough to use such a name.

she stares back at me and raises her hands in defense. "what? what i do?" she feigns her innocence half-giggling.

"Cho, cool it with the look! you're gonna scare her away!"

i look at Yuji still lying on the floor, clutching his stomach and chortling his little heart. it almost brings a smile to my face seeing my baby brother so tickled— almost.

my roommate grins. "yeah, i used to call him YuYu. we bonded over YuYu Hakusho the first summer i had him. i didn't even remember his actual name 'til now. i would call him Itadori, and he’d throw a fit every time, so we settled on YuYu like the show."

she leans over and looks at my brother sprawled out on the floor still. "'member that, YuYu?"

i certainly remember. Yuji was obsessed with that show for years, even after the show ended. i would record reruns on tape for him, buy him toys of the characters with my allowance, and teach him how to collect the manga. good times, those were.

but now i have an answer as to why Yuji wanted me to call him YuYu besides the show.

"yeah, i remember. dude, your first impression of me was me shouting 'spirit gun!' and pretending to shoot her with my fingers," he says, imitating the main character. he groans, pressing the ball of his wrists to his eyes before slowly picking himself and the chair up off the floor. "man, i was uber uncool back then."

i frown at his assertion and retort with mock offense, "you're calling me uncool for supporting you, then?"

Yuji nearly faceplants running over to me and almost knocks me to the ground, launching his body onto mine for a hug. he squeezes me, rubbing my back frantically to soothe me. "no, no way, big bro! you were super duper cool for helping me. never think you weren’t."

“i appreciate that, baby bro,” i say, pulling out of our embrace before flicking his forehead.

"ow!" he winces, rubbing the sore spot. "what was that for?"

"for talking about yourself like that," i scold. "you know better than to talk down on yourself, especially around me."

he pouts, muttering, "yes, big bro."

i hear Flo snickering and almost shoot her another stare, but Yuji wouldn't like that, so i refrain. plus, Yuji had a point: my look can scare people away. i'm already a tall, lanky, tatted goth; i don't think giving my roommate the crazy eye wouldn't keep the peace very well.

she didn't seem bothered earlier, though. 

"wow, you've got such a good big brother, Yuji," Flo comments. she smiles, glancing over to me. "a very caring brother at that."

"speaking of a caring big bro," Yuji begins, slowly inching his way out of my personal space with a mischievous look, his hands clasped behind his back as he rocks on the balls of his feet. "about your car..."

"no, Yuji," i immediately shut him down. "you can't drive my car."

"why not?" he whines, drawing out his words. "dad won't take me, and i'm only going to Yukon Lake for the senior trip, and it's not far."

"doesn't matter, Yuji. you don’t have your license yet. if you get pulled over, i won’t be able to help you. plus, i need my car to get to work and back. if anything, i can just take you and Suguru can pick you up."

my brother throws his hands up, groaning, "fine! i gotta go, anyway. i got a track meet soon."

he pulls me into another quick hug. i give him a forehead kiss and ruffle his hair before we part. "bye, baby bro. call me or come by if you need anything else."

"like money for the senior trip?" he asks with a lilt and a wide grin.

i chuckle, "we'll see about that."

he sucks his teeth, spinning on his heel in mock disappointment. "man, you suck, big bro."

“love you, baby brother.”

Yuji walks over to Flo and hugs her. "i was good to see you again," he chirps.

"good to see you too, YuYu," she replies. "let me know when your next track meet is. i wanna watch you race."

"will do!"

Yuji gathers his stuff and salutes us as he heads out the door. "bye, Flo! love you, big bro! see you later!"

he slams the door behind him hard, making my ears ring from the aftersound. that kid needs to lay off the protein powder.

"so, camp counselor, huh?" i ask, giving my roommate a small smirk.

Flo scoffs, "yeah, we don't talk about those times. but, wow, you being YuYu's brother? never would've guessed."

i cock an eyebrow at her. "what's that supposed to mean?"

she shrugs. "nothing. just didn't expect it," she giggles. "y'all are total opposites."

i nod in agreement. "we are definitely complete opposites."

Flo stands up and goes into the fridge. "it's cute, though," she says, pulling out another drink and closing the door with her hip. "it's like Dexter and Dee Dee. he's the hyper, social sibling that always messes with you, and you're the stoic, serious one who doesn't want to be bothered."

she walks over to the couch and plops down next to me. i raise an eyebrow then quickly put it down. i guess her sitting next to me is tolerable when she's not badgering me.

"so, mr. stick-up-the-ass, what's your major?" she asks.

i ignore her attempted insult and reply, "criminal justice. planning on being a prosecutor then a judge."

"oh, wow! totally did not expect from you."

i squint at her. "you're profiling me pretty hard today, huh?"

she smirks, looking ahead of her. "i'm just saying i didn't think you'd be here for criminal justice. i got like, STEM major vibes from you."

i scratch my head. "what the hell is STEM?"

she turns and gives me a look of disbelief. "you don't know what STEM is? seriously?" she laughs. "it stands for Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics."

i huff out of my nose, wondering where she got the idea that i was studying any of those boring ass things. "nah, not me. maybe science and math here and there, but other than that, no. that shit's for dorks."

"hey!"

i snort, ducking my head down so that she won't notice. i didn't think that comment would strike a nerve in her of all people, but that was too presumptuous of me.

"math is so not for dorks! it's super important for daily things and jobs. you have to know basic math to be a cashier," she argues defensively.

"mm-hmm," i hum, a few snorts escaping my nose. "very important. imperative, even."

she tuts, shaking her head. "you think it's funny, but wait 'til you need to calculate statistics or analyze data sets."

i throw my hands up and give up on hiding my laughter. "okay, princess, you got me there," i say, grinning cheekily as her face screws up in irritation.

"you must be one of those STEM dorks then," i say, huffing another laugh and reaching for the remote on the table. i'm sure i can watch a little Jeopardy before i leave for work in a few hours.

unfortunately, i'm met with a space where the remote was. i fumble around, looking down and seeing my hand touch nothing but wood. i look up at the tv to see the channel already changed. i sit there frozen for a moment. i slowly look to my right.

flipping through channels and shrugging with a nonchalant smile, Flo says, "sorry, buddy, wanna watch my soaps 'fore i leave."

i sit back and retract my hand, letting it drop into my lap. my jaw clenches. "i wanted to watch Jeopardy," i mumble.

she reclines, crossing her feet on top of the coffee table. "dude trippin' on me for defending math, but this fuckin' guy wanna pout about Jeopardy? tuh! okay, dude. fuckin' major dweeb alert over here," she says to no one in particular, jabbing her thumb in my direction.

i don't even dignify that with a response. i stuff my hands in my pockets and close my eyes to calm myself. i can feel something spiraling inside, some mental upset for my routine being rudely interrupted by a bratty woman with little regard for her insolence affecting others.

okay, maybe that's a bit much to hold a candle to that statement right now. however! i don't plan on taking that back until i'm proven wrong.

"yes, it's on!"

i open one eye to see what she put on; Desperate Housewives, i gather from the title screen. ew, not even my mom would watch this obscenely stupid shit.

sick of the television assaulting my eyes, i look over at Flo, taking in her figure. her crossed legs accentuate her plush, dimpled thighs. her manicured nails make her hands look dainty. her hair runs past her shoulders down and her bangs stick to her forehead, covering up part of her face. she's wearing a red color on her lips with a dark outline on them; that makes the mole under her nose stand out more.

she may be an obnoxious brat with an attitude problem, but she has an unorthodox charm about her—an allure that makes me unnaturally curious and churns my stomach. it's an unfamiliar, nauseating feeling, but i can't say i mind it while i'm looking at her.

let's look away before she notices, i think, blankly looking at the wall behind the television and letting my mind drift to other things.

"ahem!"

i slowly turn to Flo with a raised eyebrow. "need something?" i ask.

"why you still here? don't you have like, work to go to or somethin'?" she waves me off dismissively.

i suck my teeth, but unfortunately, she's right. i get up and head for the shower to leave her alone.

on the one hand, i sorta understand since she's locked out of her room for now. hopefully, her friend comes and they leave while i'm getting ready, giving me time to do what i want before work.

this is gonna be a long semester, i sigh internally, trudging to the bathroom and shutting the door behind me.

steam trails behind me as i exit the bathroom, drying my hair with a towel and wearing another around my waist. i sigh in relief, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. nothing like a good shower to wake you up.

i stand in front of the hallway sinks, looking in the mirror for a moment, admiring my physique. i'm not particularly self-conscious, but i wouldn't say i'm vain, either. i do like to see my reflection just to check what's going on and glance over what other people can see.

i rake a hand through my damp hair, taking notice of its length. i've been trying to grow it out, and progress is decent so far. i can put my hair into even spiky buns as opposed to a few months ago.

i smirk at my reflection, throwing a playful wink before brushing my teeth.

"man, what the fuck was that?"

i stop to listen for a second. is that Flo talking? who is she talking to?

being the nosy little shit i am, i walk into the living room, still brushing.

her back is facing me, but she isn't moving whatsoever, as if she hadn't just yelled at the top of her lungs just now. she looks invested—hooked even. it's almost creepy how quiet and still she is while watching this horrid shit, though her dedication is admirable.

i switch between watching the show and watching Flo react to it for a while.

i try to follow the plot but find myself lost every five minutes, so i look at Flo. she becomes expressive any time something happens, clapping her hands as she cackles or jumping out of her seat and screaming at the screen. i can't lie, she's not entertaining me more than the show because, admittedly, the show bores me, but her reactions make it bearable.

she lets out a gasp and yells, gesturing angrily, "bitch, fuck you just standing there lookin' stupid for? say something!"

she kisses her teeth and throws her hands up dramatically, rolling her eyes and flopping back against the couch. i chuckle, my shoulders shaking. she's a real killer one-woman act.

"what's so funny, emo boy?"

i shift my gaze to my roommate. she still has her back to me, so i walk over to the kitchen sink and stick my head under the faucet to catch the water.

i rinse the toothpaste out my mouth and laugh between words as i say, "you."

"what about me?"

i catch more water and rinse my mouth out again before turning back to her, leaning my arms on the counter. "the way you're acting watching this shit. it's just funny."

"mm hmm," she hums, still not looking over at me. "sure."

i smirk, tempted to tease her more, but continue brushing my teeth. she's got a real bite to her, that one. it might be starting to grow on me.

knock, knock, knock, knock!

her face quickly lights up as she shouts, "i hope that's my bestie!"

a boisterous, muffled voice responds from the other side of the door, "you already know who it is, bitch!"

my roommate squeals and hops off the couch, sprinting to the door and flinging it open. more squealing happens. i dart my stare between the girls embracing and jumping around and screaming about how much they missed each other. i'm mildly annoyed at how loud they are.

"oh my god, i was so lonely without you here," the other girl says, fake-sobbing on Flo's shoulder.

Flo chuckles, patting her friend's back. "i know, babe. you're like, my only friend right now, so i was super duper lonely without you, too," she replies. the girls pull away and smile at each other.

Flo's friend then asks, "now, where is this roommate of yours? i'm tryna meet him."

"oh, he's right behind..."

Flo trails off. i pay no attention to it, rinsing my mouth out for the last time. as i look up at them, i see that their eyes are already on me. Flo's face morphs into one of shock then into disgust while the other girl's face morphs into lust.

i cock an eyebrow, confused and left clueless as to why they're staring so hard, especially with two entirely different expressions.

i notice their gazes are pointed down, so i follow, and—suddenly, i remember where i am and what i'm wearing (or rather, what i'm not wearing).

two girls are gawking at me wearing only a towel around my lower half. fuck.

i freeze, my face burning red before i finally move my ass and book it to my room.

i close my door a little too hard, pressing my back against it. i lock the door just for good measure. i sigh in relief, my face still heated from that little mishap. i pull out my uniform and start getting dressed for work.

as i dress, i press my ear to the door a few times, see if they're talking about me. i can barely hear what they're saying, but i make out a couple of phrases: "sexy as fuck," "stupid asshole," and "riding that pony." that last doesn't make much sense, but i can put two and two together.

after i'm fully clothed and presentable, i walk back out, work bag slung over my shoulder.

the girls turn to me again, Flo standing with crossed arms and pinched brows while her friend blatantly runs her eyes up and down my body. i avoid them, trying not to show my embarrassment by keeping a straight face.

the friend tilts her head and says, "Flo, i think you should officially introduce me to your roommate."

Flo huffs, clearly aggravated, "okay, whatever." she points to one of us as she introduces us to each other. "Kiki, this is Choso. Choso, Kiki."

"hmm, Choso, huh?" the friend asks, batting her dramatic eyelashes. Flo immediately hits her on the shoulder and whispers, "cut that the fuck out!"

"Choso Kamo," i repeat, reaching out for a handshake. the girl clears her throat and accepts it with a firm grip. "Kian'e Thompson. i go by Kiki." she throws a wink in an attempt to be seductive; unsurprisingly, it does not affect me, only giving her a polite smile before letting her hand go.

my gaze lingers on my roommate. i note her defensive stance: crossed arms, jutted hip, tapping foot. she's practically burning holes into the side of her friend's face, too. i can tell she wants to scold Kiki and stop any advances toward me (unsuccessfully, might i add). she seems weirdly bothered by it. maybe i'm reading too much into things.

i slink away to the kitchen. i start looking in the fridge, taking note of what i'm out of. i know we have no more soda, so i should stop by Kmart and get some more after work.

"what'd you want for lunch, Kiki? cuz i'm hungry as fuck."

"i'on even know, man. i was lookin' forward to those brunch platters at Stacie's, but i can't pay that."

i see an old Chinese food carton in the back. that can't be any good now. i take that out and set it on the counter to throw away. guess i'm cleaning out the fridge while i try to find anything edible to bring for lunch.

as i'm looking and cleaning, i hear the pair whispering to each other. Kiki not-so-subtly says to Flo, "you gon' snitch on me if i get his digits?"

i hear Flo land another smack on her friend's arm. "girl, what the fuck? yes, i absolutely will snitch on you. also, he can hear you, dumbass."

you're not so quiet yourself, i think.

"man, like i give a fuck! you betta get at him 'fore i throw some—!"

"o-kay, we're gonna go now. be back whenever!" Flo says in a rushed tone, pulling Kiki by the arm out of the dorm room. they argue under their breaths as the door closes behind them.

i take a long look at the door before letting out a deep sigh. i close the fridge, grab my keys off of the front door hook, and head out for work.

[specialistpinky]

choso stans will need to be sedated when he’s animated with his hair down

[specialistpinky]

*♡ big juicy ♡* | choso x oc

next episode

「 ✦ coke & rum ✦ 」

wc: 4.5k

a/n: heya! this is my first time trying out tumblr to post my works (2014 is soooo back), so we're gonna see how this goes. enjoy~!

bust down middle pointer, i got it black (i'm a big fine ho!) walkin' through the club lookin like a snack (but you knew that though)

—GET IT SEXYY by SEXYY RED

why the hell do they make these damn dorms so confusing? i think, wandering down the hall and hauling my luggage while looking down at the map again, squinting to make sure i'm heading in the right direction.

i take in my surroundings. the walls are bland beige with lime-green accents. a few back-to-school event flyers hang on the walls. the carpet is one of those funky 80s arcade patterns that kids used to throw up all over. 

these are supposed to be the senior dorms? i thought they would’ve been a hell of a lot nicer.

after a bunch of twists and turns and endless numbers that weren't my room, i creep up to a door, gazing at the three numbers plated on the side: 824.

"finally! praise Jesus," i sigh, rejoicing for my long-awaited rest.

i fold the paper up and stuff it in my back pocket. i breathe in and out, remembering that i have a roommate again. yeah, it's cheaper to live with someone else, but my privacy is crucial to me, and i have a very low tolerance for other people's bad habits, so i would’ve preferred living by myself. out of my control now, though.

i can only hope my roommate is fairly decent this time. last year, i got a trust fund baby who liked blasting the same five fucking songs all day, passed out drunk in the bathroom, and piled up dishes in the sink.

i knock on the door hard, seeing if someone will open it. i have a key, but i don't feel like opening it. my federal-ass knocking will surely get my roomie's attention. plus, i'd rather meet them from a distance than walk inside and find something i don't wanna see.

the lock clicks as the doorknob turns, the door creaking open.

"Yuji, it’s seven in the morning. i already told you i'm not letting you borrow my car."

my eyes widen a little. in the doorway stands a tall, grown-ass man with dark shoulder-length hair wearing a faded Metallica shirt and plaid boxers. he's littered with tattoos from what i can see, some of the work peeking from under his half-clad thighs. he's rubbing his eye like a tired child woken up from nap time and keeping them closed, clearly not seeing that i'm not "Yuji."

i cross my arms and squint. "who’re you?" i question, harboring a little bit of hostility in my voice—for good reason, though. a random man just opened the door when i fully expected a woman.

the guy stops rubbing his eyes and blinks once, twice before eyeing me up and down with an equally confused look.

"you're not Yuji," he rasps, scratching his chin.

i jut my hip out, cocking my head to the side. "yeah, definitely not. you’re not Ashlee."

i pull out the dorm letter from my other pocket to check if i'm crazy, and yep, still says Ashlee’s my roommate.

"is Ashlee here?" i look back up at the man who's sporting a deadpan face. i try to peer inside the room, asking, "are you like, her boyfriend or somethin'? cuz we’re gonna have to talk about how often you’re allowed to stay here."

he tilts in the same direction i'm moving, blocking my view. i frown. his face stays blank. "there's no Ashlee here," he says.

i stay silent for a moment. then i huff out of my nose and smirk. "alright, funny guy, quit fuckin' around and bring out my roommate."

he blinks all frog-like, slow and unbothered, then screws his eyes shut before scratching his eyebrow. "i’m telling you there’s no Ashlee here. i live here. you might have the wrong room."

i'm tempted to roll my eyes at his backtalk and slightly condescending tone, but i'm attempting to be nicer these days, so i offer a tight-lipped smile.

i speak calmly, "this is room 824, right?"

i knew the answer; i just wanted to see how he would respond. he seems to think i'm some fucking bimbo with no thoughts to my dainty little head.

the man scratches his neck and nods. "yeah?" his statement comes out more like a question.

i nod once, the top of my lip curling. "right, that's what i thought. so, i'm telling you," i emphasize my words by pointing at myself and then at the mystery man who claims to live in my dorm, "this is where i was assigned as per the letter."

i wave the flimsy piece of paper in the air and hold it out to him. "you're more than welcome to take a read."

he snatches the letter from me, aggravating my soul further as he stands there in his indecency and indignation. he skims the paper, muttering to himself before looking back up at me, a befuddled, fatigued look adorning his features.

he cocks an eyebrow, handing the paper back to me. "you're a girl, though," he comments intelligently. 

i can't help it as the whites of my eyes probably make themselves known and my irises disappear before reappearing.

i purse my lips together and make them pop, bucking my eyes for a second in irritation. "no shit, Sherlock," i spit. i sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. "how the fuck did i end up in a co-ed dorm?" i mumble under my breath, trying to compose myself before i break down in the middle of this hallway and alarm the whole floor.

i suck my teeth and hold out a loud groan, making my way inside. "ugh, this is so ridiculous," i grumble, completely ignoring the man in the doorway.

he barely moves out of the doorway, making space for me to enter, a clear look of disdain i hardly acknowledge and feel targeting my backside.

"make yourself at home," he mumbles sarcastically.

i strut through the small space, looking around and humming, "not too bad. at least you keep it tidy in here." i turn back to the man whom i have the unfortunate pleasure of rooming with. "let’s keep it that way."

he doesn't reply beyond that weird little blink again. yuck! it gives me major goosebumps.

i try to keep the faces to a minimum as i walk up to my room door, pulling out a key from my purse to unlock it.

i twist the key and—

clunk!

"huh?" 

that didn’t sound good.

i try again, jiggling the key around this time but still feeling resistance. i twist using both hands and all my might to unlock my room. i grunt, pushing and turning until my fingertips turn bright red, then stop, out of breath from my effort.

i pinch my eyebrows together, frustrated at this stupid fucking door barring me from my one safe haven for the next ten months.

"urgh! damn it," i groan. i cock my leg back to kick the door but halt right before my foot makes contact. i don't have on shoes; i probably shouldn’t do that.

i growl low in my throat, banging my fist on the door and attempting to open it several more times before giving up. i sulk into the kitchen and sit down at the table. my roommate—i still don't know his name—is sitting on the couch, glued to the television, occupying his mouth with what looks like a sucker. looks a little young to be a heavy smoker. must be quitting.

the longer i look at him, the more i have to admit how attractive he is—fine as hell, even. his piercing lavender eyes are hypnotic. all them tattoos give a nice edge, and his boxers hanging on his hips with the little v-line poking out caught my attention. he's got those pink, pouty lips people kill for. he looks pretty well-kempt: nice clear skin, thick healthy hair, and clean nails. not typical male behavior. shit, he might be gay, huh?

i smack myself, shaking my head at the thoughts. so what if he is gay? i think, not like i should get at him, anyway.

i'm so glad i have a single because if i had to share a room with him? i don't even wanna put that into the air, man.

a hand waves over my face, snapping me out of my horny thoughts. i jump back and find my roommate standing before me with that confused, droopy look. i furrow my eyebrows and bark out a "what?"

he does that stupid bimbo blink again, then he smirks at me and says, "you were just standing there. figured you needed help."

jesus, we haven’t even made it 24 hours and he already knows how to push buttons i didn’t even know existed. 

and this is who i have to room with for the next nine months. awesome. just. awesome

"thought you would’ve scurried to your room by now,” he husks, his eyelids low and a smirk on his face.

i flip my hair out of my face. “can’t get in.”

“can't get into your room, huh?” he leans down to look me square in the face, swirling around the stick in his mouth. “that’s a shame. explains why you were struggling with the door."

so, he knew i was struggling and did nothing to help or ask me if i’m okay? what a fucking chump.

i scoff and roll my eyes so hard i feel them sticking to the back of my skull. i swear, if i roll them one more time, i'mma be stuck looking like the Exorcist.

i mutter a "whatever," spinning on my heel to grab my suitcases from outside.

when i open the front door, i notice that my stuff isn't there anymore. i peek from behind the door, looking in both directions of the hallway to see if anyone grabbed them by accident. or on purpose—you never know.

after a few seconds, i groan and shut the door, irritated that my stuff disappeared.

"yo, emo boy, you seen my stuff sitting in the hall...way?" i ask, my words trailing off as i turn around to see the man pointing behind me. i follow his direction, finding my luggage in the living room's corner.

i eye my housemate with crossed arms. "oh," i say simply.

the man mimics me while leaning back against the nearest wall with his foot kicked up. "you left them out there, and i figured you forgot, so i brought them in for you."

well, isn't that so sweet and thoughtful of him? golly, it makes it so much better than his attitude has the charm of a rock taped to a stick.

i nod once. "thank you," i say.

"you're welcome."

my gaze starts to wander again, trailing from his exposed collarbone to his flexed arms. i can make out some of his tattoos: a few birds scattered across his throat, a purple flower right below his Adam's apple, and a couple of names etched on his forearms.

he clears his throat with an amused expression. wow, i didn't think he made any other faces besides drowsy and nonchalant.

he cocks his head to the side. "see something you like, princess?"

oh, he wanna be bold. okay, i see what's going on.

i squint at him challengingly as i round the table, slowly making my way over to him and smiling at him with hooded eyes. "don't flatter yourself, boo. just wondering if you steal from Salvation Army or if you genuinely dress like that. plus, i tend to like my men a little..." i poke him in the middle of his chest, “meatier.” he follows my finger before looking back at me with a raised brow.

"anyways," i say, drawing out the word and backing away. "since you're in a helpful mood, could you grab Millie and roll her to my room?" i bat my eyelashes to add extra flare to my request. no one can resist it.

he keeps that same tired, disinterested look on his face, his hypnotic lavender irises raking up and down my body. he snorts with a smirk and walks past me, lightly shoulder-checking me and beelining for the couch.

fuck, that didn't work on him?!

i fix my face, clearing my throat as i walk to the fridge and duck down, finding a Coke way in the back of the top shelf. "jackpot," i whisper, swiping it and popping the tab open, gulping down half the drink in a few seconds. i let out a small burp before pushing out a louder one.

the man looks back at me and cringes, his nose scrunching up in disgust but not saying anything.

i meet his gaze, shrugging with no remorse. it's natural, so why not let loose? i take another sip and ask again, "so, can you get Millie for me, please?"

he blinks and turns back to the TV, his hands behind his head. "who the hell is Millie?" he rasps.

i groan, "ugh, Millie! my Millie!"

he turns back around and furrows an eyebrow. "again, who is Millie? is she a dog or something?"

i point to my luggage in the corner. "Millie's the cute sparkly rouge suitcase with the gold handle."

he looks at my hand directed at my luggage and then back at me, bewildered. "Millie's a suitcase." his words come out like a statement rather than a question.

i raise an eyebrow and roll my neck. "uh, duh. you got a hearing problem?"

"you named your suitcase?" he chuckles wryly.

i furrow my eyebrows. "well, obviously me. i name all my precious things."

he laughs harder. "who names their suitcase? that's so lame."

"you listen to Metallica, so," i mutter, taking a sip of my drink.

"what?" 

i shake my head. "nothing," i say, glancing to the side.

"right. you know, you have a bratty attitude," he comments. "it's incredible you haven’t managed to piss someone off enough to get kicked out."

i hide my grin behind the soda can and reply coyly, "who says i haven't already done that?"

"can't imagine how that happened," he huffs. he waves a hand and turns back to the TV. "anyhow, get your own suitcase."

i whimper dramatically, "but i've been packing, moving, and traveling since Monday, and i've been so tired lately, and my body is in total pain from all of it, so i don't think i'll be able to carry all of those heavy bags by my lonesome, and—”

"all right, okay, please just stop! i’ll do it," he relents, shaking his head and grumbling as he walks over to my stuff. he grabs Millie's handle, scoffing, "can't believe i'm doing this."

he pulls Millie; she doesn't budge. he turns around and stares at my bag confused. he pulls again, hardly moving her. he instead uses both hands, tugging backward until Millie squeaks and starts scraping her rusty wheels across the carpet.

"jesus, woman, what do you have in here—rocks?" he grunts.

i grin, leaning against the counter as his biceps flex with each pull. his neck veins and arm veins bulge against his pale skin, decorating his muscles nicely. that little frustrated look on his face amuses me, too. nothing like seeing a man struggle at the behest of a woman.

woah, Freudian slip much?

"need help over there?" i ask coyly.

he shakes his head, readjusting his grip and stabilizing his body before pulling Millie in one last swift motion, clobbering his foot with one of her wheels in the process. he stumbles back and hits the wall, cursing, "fucking shit!” he crouches down to soothe his injury.

i let out a hard "HA!" before covering it up with a cough. i keep drinking to keep from laughing again. he hears me (not a shocker), so i'm met with a nasty glare, which makes me snort and nearly spit out my soda. I don’t blame him for that. i would do the same if i were made to do someone else's mundane bidding and they started laughing at me after i hurt myself. unfortunately for him—and fortunately for me—i'm not in that situation.

i notice the red mark appearing on the hilt of his foot from the kitchen. i coo mockingly, "oh no! poor baby. need me to kiss your boo-boo?"

he looks at me with another grimace, baring his teeth. i stick my tongue out playfully. i watch him wobble as he stands back up, grunting with each limp he takes to his room and saying under his breath "brat" before slamming the door behind him.

i can't help but smirk again. i was going to ask him to take Bobbi and Brownie with him for me, but he's injured now—wouldn't want him to somehow die on me and i be held liable for his early demise.

i continue sipping on my soda as i pull my phone out of my purse and call up my homegirl. 

she picks up after the second ring. "hey, bitch!"

"hey, babe. where you at?"

"i'm at home. why, what's up?"

i cross my legs and lean back in my chair. "girl! i'm so fucking exhausted, but i need to go shopping for my room. you got time today?"

"girl, i don’t know. i'm supposed to be going to brunch soon."

i suck my teeth. "boo, you whore. and to think i was gonna treat you to barbecue. oh well, i'll call someone else."

"wait, wait, wait! lemme see what Nana says."

i hear some rustling and hushed voices in the background. i shouldn't be surprised she was laid up in the bed with her man and didn't tell me, knowing how shameless that girl is.

i don't comment and patiently wait for her reply.

"okay, he's gonna push brunch to dinner. you lucky as fuck my man's chill like that cuz we had reservations."

"damn, my bad. should've told me. now i feel like i'm disturbing y'all."

she sighs, "it's fine. plus, i haven't seen you in like, three months. i miss my boo!"

"i missed you, too, boo. but, bitch, lemme tell you!" i rub my forehead and whine, "these muthafuckas got me all the way fucked up cuz why the fuck did they give the wrong roommate?"

"girl, how the fuck do they give you the wrong roommate?"

"man, i have no idea, but i guess it could be worse."

"who is it? it ain't that rich bitch from last year, is it? cuz i'll beat that ho ass again just cuz i can."

i chuckle at her quick resort to violence. "nah, it ain't her," i say. "i heard she transferred to some private school overseas, so i'on know why she'd come back to this ghetto ass school."

"she betta not. anyways, who you rooming with?"

i mentally prepare myself as i say, "chile, why i get a man–?"

before i can even finish, i hear a shrill scream from the other side. i pull the phone back, looking at it like it offended me. i mean, my ears are offended with allat fucking screaming she doing early in the morning. her neighbors must think she get stabbed every time she and her man hunch (which i have the displeasure of knowing they have sex every day, so i can only imagine).

"BITCH, THEY PUT YOU WITH A MAN? bitch, oh my god, you so fuckin' lucky! that was my number-one fantasy for years! is he hot??"

i chuckle, peering around the room to see if he was around. i cover my mouth and whisper into the receiver, "girl, the man is fine as all hell."

"and you ain't tell me?! what he look like?"

"bitch, i just found out like 30 minutes ago i had a male roommate. he a emo boy, first of all."

"oh, okay, okay, we love a good emo boy. i heard they got big dicks, too!"

"girl, shut up ‘fore you get in trouble with Nanami! anyways, he hella tall and he buff, but he ain't buff buff. to be honest, he look kinda sickly and malnourished. makes me wonder what he be eating for him to look like that."

another loud but less deafening squeal assaults my eardrum. "sounds like he need to be fed, then!" 

i can hear her eyebrows wiggling through the phone. she continues, "ooo, bitch, i need to come over and see what he look like right NEOW. cuz if you don't fuck him, i will!"

i belly-laugh, knocking my head back. "bruh, he ain't even my type for real," i quip. "also, don't you got a whole ass boyfriend?" i giggle through my words.

"aye, as i always say: don't let your current boyfriend—"

"stop you from finding your future husband. yeah, yeah, i know how that goes," i finish for her, chewing on my bottom lip. "i mean, you still shouldn't do it for your sake."

"i know, i know, i'm just playin'! plus, my Kento treats me so well. he’s practically my husband at this point. i can't let him go. neva eva!"

i know she will never let that man go. the way he dotes on her hand and foot with no hesitation makes my heart swell and my stomach sick at the same time. seeing them together restores my faith in humanity bit by bit, and i can only wish for something like that to come my way.

i look at myself in the mirror across from me, noticing my lip makeup fading and my hair losing its shape.

i stand up, going over to my other luggage and rummaging through them to find my makeup bag, finding my gloss and lip liner pencil. i get up to fix myself up in the hallway mirror and reapply my lipgloss while i talk. "you betta not. cuz if you do, imma beat that ass and take him for myself."

"oooh, i'm so scared. Nanamin, baby, save me! bestie said she's gonna hurt me and steal you away from me."

i hear her pouting through the phone and Kento murmuring in the background. i press the phone between my ear and my shoulder as i rake my fingers through my hair.

"girl, bye. you're such a drama queen. also, hey, Kento."

i hear a deep but small "hello" back. there’s more shuffling and whispering before my friend comes back on the phone.

"bitch, you're crowned royalty for drama. pot calling the kettle black as hell."

"sure, whatever you say. also imma need you to pick me cuz i don't got a car right now."

"what? the hell happened to your car?"

i suck my teeth. "girl, 'member how i told you my sister crashed her bucket drunk driving a couple weeks ago? my mom was all like, 'she needs a car until we can get her a new one, so we need to keep yours at home.' like dude, it's MY car! how you just gon' take my car that i bought with my own money? shit is wicked."

"damn, bitch, for real? a'ight, i'll come get you in twenty minutes because you know i love me a good spree."

i smile. "cool, cuz i need to figure out how i'mma get into my room before i go to sleep tonight."

"how you locked out the room already? you just got there."

i sigh, "bitch, i'on know. these people get on my fuckin' nerves."

"we'll lockpick it when i get there. see you then! kisses. muah!"

"bye, love you. mwah!" i send a kiss through the phone before hanging up.

i rake my hands through my hair, fluffing it poofier before giving myself a toothy grin and blowing a kiss in the mirror.

i hear a low wolf whistle. "wow, bratty and conceited? a double trouble princess."

i whip my head around to see emo boy leaning against the wall, now wearing loose gray sweatpants and a Cocteau Twins muscle tee with his hair in two spiky space buns. shit, i might've been lying when i joked about him not being my type. he need to stop dressing like that before i throw him on a street corner and make some money off him.

i throw him a tight-lipped smile and go back to messing with my hair in the mirror. "bratty? always. conceited? not over here, honey. just a hottie with high self-esteem."

"is that right?" he husks. i hear him moving but pay him no mind as i straighten my skirt. i turn around, looking at the back of it. i smile, seeing my ass poking out from underneath the skimpy garment.

i gaze at myself for a little longer, my eyes traveling up my body before they land on emo boy standing right behind me. i flinch a little, turning my head to face him.

his tired eyes flash an emotion i can't discern. for a moment, it looked like lust.

i take a deep breath. i cock an eyebrow and ask, "can i help you?"

he stays quiet, looking down at me with that creepy lopsided smile. he eyes me up and down before stepping away, beelining for the couch and plopping down, kicking his socked feet up on the coffee table. he flicks through television channels as he says, "that outfit suits you."

the fuck is that supposed to mean?

i let out a short laugh, pulling my shirt down before turning to my housemate. "them eye-bags suit you, too, emo boy."

that man need to find him some business 'fore i find some for him. shit, he can find some business himself between these muthafuckin' chocolate thighs.

ugh, i should stop thinkin' like that about my housemate. i would rather not get caught up in another situationship or get involved with someone from this school ever again, even if it runs an exhilarating chill down my spine to imagine how big it is .

picking up my phone from the counter, i text my friend.

yo, eta?

bout 10 minutes ;)))

i sigh, going back to the kitchen table and sitting my chin in my palm. i'm still annoyed at the fact that my door is jammed. if she can't get into the room, i'm gonna have to call maintenance, which definitely puts a dent in my plans to sleep tomorrow morning.

that doesn't stop me from mentally planning my decorations. i imagine where i want my posters arranged. i have a few Britney Spears and Tyra Banks posters stowed away in my suitcases, and the canopy i bought back home should be coming in the mail soon. then, after my target trip, my room should be a girl's paradise times 100.

optimizing is key while i'm here. i should probably get a set of speakers and some lights, too. maybe a bean bag if there's space.

so many ideas, so little time and money.

knock, knock, knock!

i perk up, clapping my hands and bouncing a little in my seat. "yay, my bestie is here! eek!" i squeal. i stand up to greet her at the door only to find my housemate already opening the door. he barely cracks it open and he's blocking the way, so i can't see who's on the other side. eventually, my housemate moves to the side, letting the other person walk in. i look to who it is. my eyes widen and my jaw drops as i watch them walk in. before i can even control it, i find myself whispering in shock.

"Itadori?"

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f*cking loser (part 8 snippet) [shigaraki x black oc]

a/n: making good on my promise :) iykyk

18+ ONLY, MDNI

***

He thrashed against one set of calloused hands pinning his arms to the beds and barely bucked his hips at the touch of another soft set with long nails stroking and jerking his cock. A rush of blood to his head(s) made breathing nearly impossible, his gulps for air smothered by two distinct sets of lips.

Any semblance of shame and introversion died in his throat as he mewled a flurry of names and curses.

"You look so cute like this, Tenko," a feathery, sultry voice purred with a wide grin, one hand teasing his angry tip and the other generously massaging his shaft. Fingers danced, having Shigaraki pleading for more before a warm, wet orifice enveloped him, cheeks hollowed and lipgloss ringed the bottom of his dick.

"Such a good boy for us," another voice husked in his ear, its thin, pierced lips brushing Shigaraki's earlobe and its breath tickling his cheek. His fingers clasped around faceless forearms and held on for dear life as his soul was sucked out of him. Veins in his neck he never knew existed pulsated. Each breath he took burned; every minute passed felt like an hour; and when he remembered he could think, his mind echoed the same two names over and over.

"You love it when we touch you all over, don't you?"

He knew he was asked a question. He knew he should say something, but he couldn't produce anything but garbled noises in response.

"Use your words, honey," both voices cooed.

Shigaraki gasped, "Y-yes!"

A tongue tsked in feigned sympathy. "Our pretty boy. You're such a good boy, aren't you?"

Shigaraki nodded frantically, only to receive a smack to his cock, making him yelp and his body jerk.

"Words."

"Yes!" he cried, openly sobbing in desperation. He was hurting so much, the pain surging through him so much that the room spun.

A hand found its way to his throat, lightly pressing down on his windpipe and cutting off the comfort of breathing. He wheezed, his eyes rolling back and his hand laying on top of the one gripped around his neck.

"Yes, what, doll?"

"I..." he began but stopped when a cold lubricated finger prodded his tight entrance.

"Don't let me stop you, baby. Answer the question."

"I'm a—"

"Tenko?"

Shigaraki jolted up with a start, thrown out of his thick, hazy daydream as his head banged against the low car ceiling. He winced, massaging the sore spot.

"Ouch, honey, be careful," Ramona chuckled, her laughter smooth. "Your head okay?"

"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine," he muttered.

"You sure? You were super quiet and breathing kinda hard just a second ago."

Damn, again? That was the second comment he'd gotten about his obnoxious breathing habits.

"'m fine," he repeated curtly, blinking the bleariness away.

"You positive?"

He gritted, "I said I'm fine."

"...Right," Ramona chuckled, shaking her head. "Well, just making sure you're okay."

He wasn't, though.

***

first-time reader end note: hey! thanks for reading this unpublished snippet of f*cking loser. if this is your first time reading this, the full series is posted on AO3 and Wattpad, so feel free to check it out.

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Getting him pregnant for Valentine’s Day

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I follow the official bratz account on Instagram, and they just get it 😌

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the real question is

how the fuck do i have the energy to consider posting my fanfiction on tumblr but can’t even make it out of bed to go to class?

a long winded way of saying that i wanna post my fanfics on here. we’ll see how that goes.

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they should interact

please imagine reigen as another ofa vestige but none of the other’s are really sure how he got there

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This user is tired all the time

Requested by: @sktls-ig

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Dabi’s a great gift giver

Please reblog!! But do not repost!!  ( •̀ᴗ•́ )

Bonus: