#because it's not about getting it all right at once. its about leaning into the cycle and how it guides you through developing these

[nuwildcat]

Okay, so hopefully you don't mind this, but this drawing absolutely refused to leave me alone since I've seen it and the writing gods demanded a sacrifice in it's honor.

~~~~~~

Jayce has only a basic understanding of undercity politics; even then, he knows this is a bad idea. 

He’s been coming down here for parts for over a year now. Which means he knows all the best places. Benzo’s is reliable. Good parts for a good price. [name]’s got interesting stuff, the issue is the quality is shit. It’s just as likely to break as it is to work. But there’s one place you only go if you’re really desperate. And Jayce is desperate. 

The Machine Herald’s. 

The name is odd, but from what Jayce has heard, if you need something unique, you’ll find it there. The issue is, what price will you pay for it? Because the owner is one of Silco’s. 

Even with his limited knowledge, Jayce knows you don’t fuck with Silco’s people. But again, he’s desperate.

If he can get this last part, he’ll finally have something to share that even Heimerdinger can’t dismiss for Progress Day. 

So he’s taking the risk — crossing the line you don’t cross as an outsider, and entering Zaun. 

Ever since the weird and antagonistic truce between Vander and Silco was struck, there’s been a divide in the lanes. On one side, Vander’s people. The other, the self-proclaimed Zaunites led by Silco. There’s literally a fucking line in the middle of the square demarcating whose land is whose. 

Jayce’s whole body tenses for an attack as soon as he’s stepped across it. Miraculously, his luck holds and nothing happens. 

Peering at the little map Ekko has drawn for him, Jayce frowns and turns left down an alley. 

Ekko had called him a crazy piltie with sludge for brains when he’d asked for directions to the Machine Herald’s, but Ekko is like twelve, so most of what he says is insults.  

The building is pretty nondescript. Jayce almost walks past it, but a cog mounted over the door catches his eye. It’s been welded into its shape by combining many other smaller items, wrenches, pipes, and what looks like a set of keys.

Jayce stares up at it over the open door, trying to pick apart everything in the cog.

“You look lost pretty boy.”

Jayce jumps, too focused on the art, he missed that a man appeared in the doorway. The stranger leans nonchalantly on the door jamb, shooting Jayce an almost mocking look as the pipe dangling from his fingers slowly lets off swirls of pinkish smoke.

He’s startlingly pretty.

The combination of half-skirt, corset, and unbuttoned shirt is clearly meant to draw the eye, and draw it does. Jayce scans the man, struggling to put his finger on what it is about the man that’s so striking.

A quirked brow reminds Jayce he’s yet to say anything.

“I—uh. I’m looking for a—a part?”

The man smirks, his face only getting more attractive, which is doing nothing for Jayce’s ability to string a sentence together.

“I should hope so,” the man replies. “Otherwise you’d need to head elsewhere.” There’s a unique accent to the man’s soft voice, slightly raspy from the smoking.

Jayce chuckles, and steps closer to the shop. “I’m Jayce,” he says, holding out his hand.

The man stares at him, eyes flicking down to his outstretched hand and back up to his face, amusement growing stronger.

“Viktor,” he says, passing the pipe to his other hand before shaking Jayce’s hand. “How can I help you, Jayce?”

Jayce takes a deep breath and dives right into explaining what he’s looking for. As he talks, the other man gives him a bewildered look before a glint enters his eyes, and Jayce can tell he has Viktor’s full attention.

What follows is a three-hour discussion about mechanics that robs Jayce of half his monthly stipend, but sends him home with no less than four different parts he hasn’t been able to find anywhere else.

Viktor sees him off, once again leaning casually in the doorway with a smirk firmly in place. He’s likely overcharged Jayce for everything, but Jayce is so pleased he doesn’t even mind.

“Make sure to hurry back, pretty boy,” Viktor calls to him as Jayce walks away.

Looking back, Jayce shakes his head at the other man and shoots him a wink. He’s whistling as he makes his way back out of Zaun and the lanes. Today, was a very good day.

_______________

Jayce goes back. 

It’s dumb. So very, very dumb, but he does it anyway. They’d talked for hours that first time, Viktor able to not only understand his designs but to make them better. 

Not even Heimerdinger’s done that. 

It doesn’t hurt that Viktor is one of the most beautiful people Jayce has ever seen. And he’s dated Mel Medarda. He knows beautiful. 

There’s something special about Viktor. Fragility paired with a cocky confidence that makes warmth spark to life in Jayce’s belly when he sees the other man. 

It’s all rather new for Jayce. He’s feeling out of his depth. Especially with the way that Viktor has draped himself over Jayce after shoving him unceremoniously on the couch. Legs tossed over Jayce’s, Viktor is sprawled back on the arm, ever-present pipe dangling from his fingers. 

“What’s that for?” Jayce asks before he’s thought the question through. 

Viktor pauses, holding in the hit he’s just taken before letting it spill from his lips, pink-tinted and smoky. 

“It helps with the pain.”

Jayce eyes drift to the brace partially hidden by Viktor’s skirt. He’s only been able to catch glimpses and his curiosity is gnawing at him to see more. 

Viktor stretches, knocking the skirt to the side and putting the brace and himself on display. 

“See something you like, topsider?”

Jayce ignores the taunt, peering closer at the brace. “Did you make this?”

Viktor loses some of his bravado in the face of Jayce’s admiration. 

“I did.”

It’s a gorgeous piece of engineering, and the forge master in Jayce wants a better look. 

“May I?” He asks, fingers hovering over Viktor’s leg. 

This time there’s no false bravado. Viktor nods and watches him like a hawk. 

Gently, Jayce lifts the leg, turning it a bit to see how the various parts of the brace move. Viktor doesn’t fight him, relaxed and loose in his grasp. The brace is a seamless creation. Jayce is highly impressed, so he says so. 

“It’s beautiful.”

Viktor lets out a noise that makes Jayce turn from the brace despite how much he wants to study it. A Cheshire grin has spread on the other man’s face, and there’s a glint in his eyes that speaks of danger. 

“Jayce Talis. Are you flirting with me?”

Jayce freezes, not sure he could cobble together a response even if he could get his tongue working with Viktor looking at him like that. 

One moment Viktor’s sprawled like a satisfied house cat, the next he’s straddling Jayce, arms draped over Jayce’s shoulders. 

“You like?” he purrs. 

Jayce’s brain has stopped working. He’s pretty sure for a second there be blacked out, because now his hands are holding Viktor’s waist, gripping the corset that must act as a second brace. 

Oh fuck. Jayce stares, unable to get what he’s seeing to make sense. His hands—his hands almost span Viktor’s tiny waist. 

For a moment, there’s just static in his brain and then something clicks. His brain lights up, and he squeezes. 

“Oh fuck,” he murmurs. Still staring. 

Viktor chuckles breathily, his finger threading through Jayce’s hair and then pulling, yanking Jayce’s head back. Jayce grunts, tingles racing down his spine as heat pools in his belly.

“Careful pretty boy,” Viktor whispers, leaning down so that Jayce’s eyes cross as he tries to watch Viktor’s lips. “You’re playing with fire.”

Jayce is pretty sure he’d like to be burned.

“You look like you don’t have a clue what to do,” Viktor murmurs, lashes dipping prettily.

“I mean, technically?” Jayce blurts out. Viktor pulls back, looking down at him confused. Jayce shrugs. “Inexperienced? No. This particular situation? Also no.”

Viktor cocks his head in confusion, eyeing Jayce like he’s a specimen Viktor means to study. Again that wicked smile spreads and Jayce’s heart thumps in excitement.

Leaning down so his breath ghosts over Jayce’s lips, Viktor says, “Whoever let you wander down here should have known better.”

Jayce’s mouth drops open, anticipation and want bubbling up inside him. Just a little closer.

“Piltover’s loss,” Viktor whispers. Then he kisses Jayce.

Zaun vik and Jayce

[sandwitchstories]

Suds and Sass

Hey hey everyone! Its been far too long since I shared some new Daddy Duty content, so here you go! I give to you all this silly little imagine about Dad!Sukuna and Mouse

If you prefer to read it on AO3 click here !

WC: 892

Summary: It's Sukuna's turn to wash Mouse's hair. He should have known nothing could ever be so mundane with his daughter.

AN: To anyone new to my Daddy Duty series- Mouse is Sukuna's two year old daughter. Welcome to Mouse's Mini-verse!

CW: none really? reader is called Mama but not described. It is pure family fluff.

“That not how Mama does it, Papa,” Mouse informed Sukuna as she sat on the bathing stool in front of him so he could wash her hair.

“Well, Mama isn’t the one doing it, now is she?” he asked with a shake of his head while he lathered her hair, making sure to scrub her scalp thoroughly.

“No. Papa is. But Papa is doing it wrong.”

“Oh? You think you could do better?” Sukuna challenged his almost 3 year old daughter.

Mouse whirled around in excitement. “Yes! I show you! I wash your hair now, Papa! Please and thank you, Papa!”

“I don’t need-”

“Papa,” Mouse rested a hand on his and gave him a stern look. “I wash your hair now, please and thank you. Then Mama won’t say Papa is stinky.”

“I do not smell unpleasant and your mother has never accused me of such,” he glared at his daughter for her infamous audacity. 

“Papa wants to smell nice for Mama though, right?” Mouse cocked her head and gave him a sly little grin. “Papa wants Mama kisses.”

“Mouse - Your mother’s and my kisses do not concern you. And she will kiss me regardless of how I smell.” Sukuna was once again dumbfounded by the conversation he found himself having in earnest with his toddler. “Turn around so we can wash out your hair.”

She pressed her lips together and turned her back to him with her arms crossed on her chest. “Mama would give more kisses if Papa wasn’t a stinky head.”

“What was that?” Sukuna’s eyes were huge as he stared at the back of his daughter’s head, certain he had not heard her right.

“Papa is a stinky head. I tellin’ mama no kisses for papa.” “Because I won’t let you wash my hair?”

She turned her head and gave him a look over her shoulder. “If Papa washes his hair he won’t have a stinky head any more.”

Sukuna had never lost so many battles in his life before he met you and you brought this hellspawn into existence. He gave a dejected sigh and knew he would give in to his daughter once again. Another battle conceded to the pint sized dictator. 

“Fine, fine. Have it your way…” He finished washing out Mouse’s hair and he got in the tub leaning his head against the edge while Mouse stood on her stool behind him and began to wash his hair. He listened to her as she sang a song she was making up as she went. 

“Washing Papa’s hair… soap’s going everywhere… bubbles, bubbles, smell so pretty… bubble everywhere… Papa, you gonna be so pretty for Mama!”

“Oh yeah? Think she’ll give me a kiss now?” He asked, squeezing his eyes shut so the suds did not get in. 

“Uh huh!. Papa can say ‘Mama, I not stinky! Kisses now, please and thank you!’” Mouse said, trying to mimic his deep voice.

“I do not sound like that.”

“Okay, Papa…”

Later that night

Mouse laid sleeping on the futon behind you while you sat on the engawa having a cup of tea with your husband. You turned your head towards him and asked him about something that had been on your mind for hours.

“Why did you use Mouse’s shampoo?”

“She did not give me a choice,” Sukuna grumbled and took a sip of his tea.

“Why did she want you to use it to begin with?”

“She didn’t say she was going to use that scent…”

You arched an eyebrow at him. “So the why of it?”

“It's none of your concern,” Sukuna looked away, but not before you saw the touch of pink on his usually tan cheeks.

“Just tell me,” you said, reaching out a hand to entangle your fingers with one of his larger hands.

“It is not important.”

You yanked on his hand until he gave in and leaned over, kissing your upturned pouty lips 3 soft times like he knew you wanted. He smiled and bumped foreheads with you. Just as he started to deepen the kiss a small voice chimed in sleepily from the darkness behind you.

“Told you so, Papa.”

“What did she tell you?” You asked, amused as you heard her start snoring again. Just like Papa, she has to have the last word…

“She stated that you would give me more kisses if I washed my hair,” he said. He turned away and muttered before taking a drink, “And she called me a stinky head.”

Sukuna glared at you as he heard you start to sputter as you tried to keep your laughter suppressed. “It’s not funny.”

“You’re right, it’s not,” you squeezed his hand before grinning broadly. “Its hilarious.”

“I do not find amusement.”

“Sukuna…” you sighed and moved to sit closer and lean against him. “You should know by now… I will give you kisses whether or not you are a stinky head.”

“I am never a stinky head.”

“Okay, my love whatever you say,” you giggled and looked up at him like he hung the moon. “But even if you were… I’d still kiss you.”

“Damn right.” “As if it was a valid concern,” Sukuna scoffed. "Of course  it wasn't, my love..." you said with a grin, ignoring the glare you could feel him leveling at your head. You just couldn’t help yourself, sometimes he made it too easy. “But if it was…”

[milessunflowers]

Hello! Um... lestappen (they aren't together, not because they don't want to be but because it doesn't feel right) being happy about seeing their shared crush again after not seeing him because he decided to go to nascar only for him to switch to formula 1 for 2025 because he accepted the offer the new team gave him and because he missed them too. (Feel like lestappen doesn't tell reader that they have been in love with him since f3 because they thought he was straight, male reader thought that max was straight and charles was bisexual leaning to women and also didn't tell them he was in love with them)

Also! Love everything you've written so far! Love the franco, paper rings, fic its my fav so far!!!

–🍑

thank you so much peach!! that motivates me so much!! also this idea *chefs kiss*

max verstappen x male!reader x charles leclerc

synopsis: when you finally make your debut back in the world of formula racing, max and charles come to terms with how much they loved you, leading to you finally confessing.

author's note: okay so after some practice, i am now comfortable enough that i can write well enough for a driver!reader. for purposes, cadillac will already be a team and reader will be american AND LOGAN IS HIS TEAMMATE BC I SAY SO (miss my american sm😔) EVEN IF IT IS ONLY BRIEFLY MENTIONED. anyways, feel free to request, read the guidelines first ofc! (also apologies for the lack of dialogue in this one. i kinda forgot how to write good dialogue and kinda just let things flow! felt right for the vibes to me idk)

formula one, a true dream come true for you. you had raced in earlier formula series, alongside the likes of now four time world champion, max verstappen, and ferrari golden boy, charles leclerc. you hadn't seen them in a few tears as you had been busy racing in nascar, dominating the tracks at almost every track. you missed them, more than you would ever admit.

when you first heard that cadillac would be joining formula one as a brand new team, you felt sparks of hope erupt deep in your chest. maybe, just maybe, you would finally get the chance to race against your once competitors (and the two men who were your first real crushes).

you hadn't expected to be approached by your manager with a multi-year deal with the american team. without a second thought, you signed immediately, ecstatic that you could prove yourself to those you grew up racing, not including your all-time hero, fernando alonso. you couldn't keep in your excitement, which was clear to everyone in your immediate circle, including your new teammate and mentee (who in reality is a year younger than you), logan sargeant.

when it was revealed you were to be racing for the newest addition to the paddock, max and charles had almost the same reaction: joyful nervousness. they realized all to late the feelings they harbored for you.

but now... now you're back. it was exciting and terrifying for the two men, who have grown accustomed to only really seeing each other and never acknowledging those feelings.

to say that you were all big fat chickens was an understatement.

the first time you reappeared in the busy paddock, charles felt his heart jump to his throat while max just felt frozen. in ways, they each thought you looked better, less stressed and more mature. you seemed genuinely happy, especially in what they always called your natural habitat. you were a social able person after all.

they struck up small conversations during the driver's parade, mainly catching up and swapping jokes. it reminded you three of the old times, even if max and charles back then had some sort of beef. it made you feel even happier and more excited to be back and racing in the formula series.

it took a good few races before the three of you finally shared a podium. you would have never expected to feel more excited about p2 then now. in the cool down room, you chatted heartedly with max, awaiting for the winner to finally arrive. once the three of you were together, it was nothing but subtle flirting and chatter until it was time to go to the podium. even there (save for during monaco's national anthem as well as the italian one ringing) the three would not shut up.

it wasn't until the after party at the club where the three of you drank half of your body weight, confessing with no shame to each other. you couldn't remember the night, having had way too much to drink after celebrating your first podium of the season.

when you awoke the morning, you were in an unfamiliar hotel room, a warm weight behind you. you groan awake, blinking as the morning sun shone bright through the curtains, bathing yourself, max verstappen, and charles leclerc in a beautiful golden li-

wait, max and charles? you sobered up real quick and scrambled out of bed, falling with a loud thud in the process. you curse yourself, trying to grab whatever shirt was closest and pulling it on.

charles was the next one awake, stirring on the farthest side of the bed where he had curled around max. he blinked those beautiful eyes awake, a soft smile gracing your lips before you snapped out of it.

this couldn't be happening. you were half panicked, half happy to have woken up with the two men you had secretly loved for years but never, in a million lifetimes, would have ever thought were anything but into you. charles rubbed the sleep from his eyes, not yet having caught on what was happening. you stood there dumbly, still as a statue as you both finally made eye contact.

you chuckled awkwardly and charles let out a surprised yelp, loud enough to startle the last man asleep awake. you stared at each other for a good, long, ten seconds before max broke the silence with a cough before he sat up, as if all this was casual. it was very on brand for the dutchman.

it was quiet again, charles blinking blankly while you scrambled to collect your belongings. max stops you, sits you back down on the bed, and tries to calm you and charles down. and for some reason, it was too easy for him to.

he was gentle and sweet, carefully explaining what was going (or at least what he thought) before he finally comes clean, opening up about his feelings. after that, it was easy for you and charles to do the same, just in a slightly less organized and calm manner. it was no longer awkward but sweet and caring, soothing each nerve in the three bodies to a nice, warm hum.

you offered to make breakfast while max and charles cleaned up. from then on, it had become routine. from the hotel stays in different countries, to moving into the same apartment in monaco now overrun with pets. it was healthy and well established, the three of you keeping things strictly business at work but at home, leaving raving behind for a nice night in with the lobes of your life.

TAGS! (if you would like to be added, lmk!)

@op-81-lvr-reblogs, @koalapastries, @justaf1girl, @ghostking4m

[spiderlilypetals]

pairing: caleb x you/reader, gender neutral terms, no use of y/n or pronouns

a/n: hello another self indulgent because that's how we roll on here, idc idc. just thinking about shotgunning with caleb gets me melting and well, i'm always a sucker for reassurances, especially when getting to give it.

cw: recreational drug use (marijuana)

word count: ~1.2k (AO3 link)

it was time for the clear daytime skies to dip down and welcome the darkness of the night, dripping with stars marginally visible by the naked eye. still, the notion that they are still there was enough to blanket you with a sense of comfort. it was like playing hide and seek, with the stars peeking in every now and then.

your legs outstretched over the arm of the couch as your eyes focus on the ceiling as the darkness continues to enshroud the entirety of linkon city and before you know it, your entire living room is clouded in darkness, save for the dim light of the moon rays shining through the window.

you ease up into a sitting position, swinging your legs over to rest your feet on the softness of your carpet and lean forward, gathering the ground indica into the paper to roll up a blunt, your tongue swiping across the material of paper to seal it and your lighter finishing the job by drying it as the flames run across it to dry it before lighting up the end, taking a long drag from it.

inhale. 

exhale.

you ease up from your couch, opening the door to the balcony and step out, letting the light breeze of the air brush against your skin, welcoming you into the breath of fresh air. you take another hit, then another, soon your mind eases into a chill state of mind and you exhale a breath you didn't realize you were holding prior to all of this.

with you having been so deep into your thoughts, you don't notice another presence behind you, stepping slowly before his arms wrap around your waist, his chin finding its spot to nestle right on top of your shoulder. you can feel his body relax immediately, all tension from the day's work melting away by just your presence. 

"i'm home, pipsqueak..." he announces with a soft, but tired tone in his voice. 

and yes, he is home as he gives your waist a gentle squeeze, as if reassuring himself that he is in fact home with you in his arms.

his head no longer up in the clouds or filled with the fleet's words.

just you and him, with the night sky coupled with the moon as your witness.

you instantly melt in his arms, leaning back to rest your head against his shoulder as you close your eyes, your free hand not holding the blunt rests over his arms, giving them a gentle squeeze.

"welcome home, caleb... i missed you," you whisper just as he cups your chin to turn your head, letting his lips capture yours in a sweet kiss as smoke escapes between both your tiers.

he smiles against your lips. soft, warm, and inviting before he plucks the blunt from your hold and takes a drag of his own, letting the smoke fill his lungs as his free hand moves to the back of your head, fingers tangled in your soft hair as he holds your head in place, blowing out the smoke slowly.

your lips part to welcoming the substance, inhaling it just as caleb crashes his lips against yours once more. the two of your sharing a passionate kiss in between smoke before he's guiding you back into your apartment, and refusing to break from the shared kisses. 

eventually the back of his legs touch against the couch and he's falling back with you following suit, the only time the two of you break the passionate kiss was to grab some needed air, and this allow yourself to settle properly on his lap, both knees resting on either side of him as your arms wrap around his neck, resuming the kiss. 

and this. this is all he truly needed, and what you needed. the presence of one another, lost in the haze of marijuana coursing through both your systems, the shared kisses, the tango of your tongues against one another like practiced choreography and your hands running along each other's bodies, mapping out the curvatures and dips, committing everything of each other's by memory.

he wants to sear everything about you into his memories. over and over again. so the moment he closes his eyes, you're there. because you are the one who keeps him grounded. you're the one that pulls him when he gets too high up in the clouds, inching closer to the sun. you're the one that keeps him on the path he needs to be on in order to get back home to you.

he pulls back for much needed air, your breaths mingling as he cups your cheek, his thumb gently stroking the soft skin as his purple hues gaze up into yours. dazed, tenderness and a sense of never-ending yearning. and it's that simple and complicated at the same time, a perfect balance only the two of you have accomplished.

you take his right hand into yours, lifting it up as his eyes widen and there's hurt in the gaze he gives, a torturing reminder that he can't feel you fully like he did before, thoughts in his mind swirl like a storm and when he tries to pull that arm away, you hold onto it tighter and guide his left hand to rest on your hips.

"pipsqueak, what are you doing? you know i can't feel you—" 

but before you can allow him to complete that sentence, you press your finger against his lips, easing it away for a moment just to dip your head down to kiss him softly. you lean back and brush your fingers along his arm and caleb simply waters with confusion in his eyes, his brow knitting ever-so-slightly.

"and you hate it, right? and i thought i did too, but..." you whisper as you take both his hands and hold them in front of you. "you see, that would mean i hate parts of you." you state, your eyes then locking onto his before you kiss the back of both of his hands. 

"and well, that's not true. because no matter what, caleb... i will always love every part of you, even the ones you can't feel me with anymore, and i hope..." you continue with a soft sight, a smile so tender it makes caleb's do backflips as he leans in, as if wanting to hear more. 

these words he knew he needed to hear, but didn't know how to ask for or didn't feel he could ever ask for. 

"i hope that knowing that much is enough for you to feel the warmth even without the physical aspect of it."

your voice is tender and sweet, his eyes shining against the brush of the moon's light through the window. you cup his face and brush your thumb against his cheek and he's melting. 

mentally, physically, and emotionally.

a connection he thought was severed had always remained right where it was before. in your heart and his. 

caleb chuckles and shakes his head as he tilts his head down momentarily. you reach to cup his chin and tilt it back up, only love and pure devotion spells in his purple eyes, all just for you. 

"you always knew what to say to me to get my head out of the stormy clouds, huh?" he whispers and simply gazes at the beauty that is simply you.

and you nod, placing a chaste kiss upon his lips before whispering against them. "of course, how else would i make sure you're right where you belong? with me."

[bamgyuuuri]

⤷ delicate ┈ cbg.

pairing. beomgyu x afab!reader . angst . moral dilemmas word count. 1.1k short note ... im supposed to be studying for exams tmr but ended up writing this drabble instead,, ;P i’ll actually get to the reqs sent to me once i finish finals i promise omg

all your friends despised beomgyu.

their hatred wasn’t casual, the kind born out of a passing annoyance or a small slight, no. it was deep, raw, and visceral, the kind of hatred that grew roots in every whispered conversation, every sharp glance, every cruel joke that lingered in the air long after it was said.

“he’s the worst kind of person,” one of your friends said one evening, her voice tight and bitter as she stabbed at her salad with her fork.

the group was seated in your favorite booth at the diner, the one you always shared late into the night, laughter echoing against the walls—except tonight was different. tonight, the atmosphere was tense, heavy. “he didn’t just lead her on. he used her.”

your other friends nodded, their agreement coming in muttered curses and sharp scoffs.

“what he did to her exactly?” another leaned forward, her voice dropping into an almost conspiratorial whisper, like the words were too vile to say out loud. 

“he led her on for months. months. and then just... disappeared. like she was nothing. like she didn’t even matter. god, if i ever see him again, i don’t know what i’d do.”

“honestly,” one of them said, turning to look directly at you, “i don’t get how you’re so calm about this. if i were you, i’d never be able to even think about him without wanting to scream.”

your throat tightened. you stared into your untouched drink, watching the condensation drip down the glass like it held the answers to the storm raging inside you.

you wanted to say something. you wanted to tell them that they were wrong, that the boy they described wasn’t the beomgyu you knew. but how could you? how could you speak up without unraveling the tangled mess of lies and secrets you had been holding together with trembling hands?

because the truth was something they could never know.

they didn’t know that while your friend had been falling for beomgyu, he had been falling for someone else.

he had been falling for you.

the guilt had been unbearable at first. it clawed at you, sinking its sharp, unrelenting talons into your chest every time your friend cried on your shoulder, her voice trembling as she whispered, “what did I do wrong?”

you held her, whispered reassurances you didn’t even believe, all the while knowing that you were the reason her heart had been broken.

you told yourself you would walk away. that you had to.

but then he would look at you with those eyes, dark and full of something so raw and vulnerable it made your knees weak. his walls would crumble, just for you, and the boy they all hated became someone entirely different. someone you couldn’t let go of.

“do you hate me too?” he had asked one night, his voice quiet and small, like he was afraid of the answer. you were sitting on the floor of your bedroom, the soft glow of a candle flickering between you. he was leaning back on his hands, his gaze fixed on you, searching, waiting.

your breath caught. “what?”

“everyone else does,” he continued, his lips twitching into a humorless smile. “so I figure… maybe you do too. maybe you should.”

your heart shattered. “beomgyu—”

“i know what they think of me,” he interrupted, his voice trembling now, cracking under the weight of emotions he couldn’t hold back. “i know what they say. and maybe… maybe they’re right. maybe I am horrible. but…” he reached for you then, his hand brushing against yours, warm and hesitant. “when i’m with you, it doesn’t feel like I’m that person. you make me want to be better. you make me feel like… like maybe I can be.”

you had no words. his gaze burned into you, his eyes filled with something so achingly sincere it made it hard to breathe.

but the guilt was still there, a sharp blade twisting in your chest, cutting deeper with every moment you stayed. you knew what your friends would think if they found out, the way their faces would contort with anger, with betrayal. you could hear their accusations, their voices dripping with venom. how could you do this to her? how could you do this to us?

and yet, despite the weight of it all, you couldn’t walk away.

because you loved him.

and that made it worse, somehow.

it wasn’t just that you were keeping a secret that would destroy everything. it was that you didn’t want to stop. you didn’t want to let him go, even though you knew you should. even though every moral fiber in your being screamed at you to end it, to put the pieces back together before it was too late.

but how could you leave when he looked at you like that? like you were the only person who had ever truly seen him?

how could you leave when his voice trembled as he whispered your name, when his hands shook as they traced over your skin, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go?

how could you leave when, for all his flaws, for all the mistakes he had made, he was still the boy you loved?

“you should hate me,” you whispered one night, your voice breaking as the words tumbled out. the two of you were lying in bed, tangled together in the darkness. his arm was draped over your waist, his breath warm against your neck. “you should hate me for doing this. for not stopping it.”

he didn’t answer at first. his hold on you tightened, his fingers digging into your side like he was trying to keep you there, trying to stop you from slipping away.

“i could never hate you,” he said finally, his voice barely audible. “even if I should.”

your chest ached, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a thousand bricks.

you wanted to believe him. god, you wanted to believe him. but the guilt was always there, a constant reminder of the line you had crossed, the trust you had broken.

you didn’t know if you deserved happiness. not when it came at the expense of someone else’s pain. but when he held you like this, when he whispered your name like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to this world, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

because no matter how wrong it was, no matter how much it hurt, you loved him.

and maybe that made you just as horrible as they thought he was.

taglist! @pagelets, @jettithink, @killa-1009, @j-ji-jia, @frankghgr, @dawngyu @unusuallyunlikelyfox @sxmmerberries @napipope-ta <3 (click here if you would like to be added ^_^)

[moonlit-ivy-writes]

You sat in your car with the engine idling, music blasting at full volume. Tears burned in your eyes as you fought desperately to hold them back. Your grip on the steering wheel was so tight your knuckles had turned white. The thought of driving off the edge of the cliff played over and over in your mind. Few things in life cut deeper than heartbreak. You were parked in the spot where you and Saturo used to escape from the world. You once joked that couples in the '50s used to come here to make out. It probably wasn’t the most ideal comment to make on your first date, but eventually, this became the place where the two of you came to do just that. The cliff offered a breathtaking view of the city below. From up here, the chaos of the bustling streets seemed to dissolve into a peaceful, almost surreal stillness. This place was your sanctuary, a retreat from the fast-paced world. You and Toru would spend hours here, sitting on the hood of his car, gazing at the stars and losing yourselves in endless conversations. You’d debate theories, sometimes playfully arguing about whether aliens truly existed.

“Okay, get this: the Loch Ness Monster is jumping through dimensions,” you said, chewing on a piece of licorice. Your feet were propped up on the dash, and Satoru sat in the driver’s seat, turned toward you with a puzzled look on his face.

“Y/N…”

“What?” you replied, tossing a piece of candy into his lap.

“You’re cute,” he said with a laugh.

“Okay, but just humor me. Buy into parallel universes for one second.”

“Fine, I’ll bite,” Gojo said, leaning back into his seat and popping a piece of your candy into his mouth. He looked at you, clearly intrigued, as you launched into your theory.

“So, ancient aliens believed that the Egyptians used certain minerals or elements to build things because of the energy they gave off or whatever,” you began, gesturing animatedly. “Well, that lake is full of quartz. So if you believe that energy can be harnessed enough to create, like, a black hole or a portal into another dimension, maybe that’s what’s happening. Maybe the Loch Ness Monster is real, but it’s only there when it’s slipping in and out between its world and ours. Think of that lake as, like, the Bermuda Triangle.”

Gojo couldn’t hide his amusement as he watched you dive deeper into your theory, your voice growing more animated and your hands gesturing wildly. He leaned his head against the seat, grinning as your nose scrunched up in excitement.

“I could see that,” he said with a chuckle. But his attention wasn’t on your theory anymore—it was on you. The way your eyes lit up, the way your laugh bubbled out of you as you got caught up in your own thoughts. In that moment, time seemed to stop for him. All he could do was smile and wonder how someone could make the universe feel so small and perfect with just a laugh.

You sniffled out of your flashback, back to reality. You were alone in the car. Alone with two bottles of liquor in your passenger seat. You grabbed one bottle and twisted the cap, downing the cheap vodka with no chaser. You pitied yourself. How could you let a person get to you like this? Falling for him had been inevitable, like running down a steep hill and suddenly stumbling over your steps, tumbling to the ground, and continuing to roll.

You stared at the broken handle on the passenger side, the memory fueling a fire in your heart.

“Not so fast, Satoru,” you pleaded as he ripped the buttons on your jean jacket, trying to rid you of as many layers as he could.

“I can’t help it. I need you right now,” he said, kissing you roughly, his urgency undeniable as he tried to deflower you in the passenger seat. You sat on top of him, too tall, having to lean over so your head didn’t hit the ceiling.

“I'm feeling claustrophobic,” you complained, your foot getting smashed between the seat and the car door as you hastily searched for the door handle. Satoru tried to help you, but the two of you looked like you were playing a game of Twister. Tangled up in each other, he grabbed the handle, pulling it—and breaking it off.

“Satoru!” you yelled, trying to keep a straight face. “my car!”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’ll fix it, I swear!” he stammered, trying to fit the lever back onto the hinge, but it was no use. You both fumbled to escape through the driver’s door. You scraped your knee on the ground, landing with a thud.

“Maybe trying to go at it in the front seat wasn’t the best idea,” you said, standing up and giving your boyfriend a stern look. Then you noticed he was still holding the door handle in his hand.

“Well, where were we?” he asked with a grin, tossing the handle into the front seat and shutting the car door. Backing you up against it, he leaned down, his lips meeting yours. You stumbled onto your tiptoes, trying to meet him halfway. He deepened the kiss, his hands sliding under your shirt.

“Hey, hey, hey,” you nudged him back. “We can’t just—”

“Look around, Y/N,” he said, gesturing to the vast expanse of woods and rock. “No one’s going to catch us.”

You couldn’t deny the thrill of the idea. Smiling, you grabbed his face and pulled him in for another kiss. “Let’s hope we don’t get caught,” you said with a giggle.

With that, he lifted you onto the hood of your car. His hands gripped your thighs, sliding your skirt up over his fingers. You felt his fingertips trace your panty line, tugging at the fabric. Helping him, you shimmied out of the unwanted clothing, pulling at his shirt, eager to feel his skin.

The two of you became entangled once more, this time more comfortably. Satoru peppered sweet kisses along your shoulder, the warmth of his lips making your skin tingle. You moaned softly as he bit gently at your skin, his teeth grazing just enough to leave a delicious ache.

“Baby, you smell so good,” he murmured, inhaling your perfume as he nuzzled his face into your chest. His hands explored your body with a reverence that made your breath hitch, his fingertips tracing every curve as if memorizing them. Slowly, his kisses trailed down your torso, leaving a path of warmth and longing in their wake until he reached your inner thigh.

You felt a flicker of nervousness about being so exposed to the open air. The vast sky stretched endlessly above you, the cool breeze a stark contrast to the heat building between you. But as Satoru’s lips pressed against your skin, the thought quickly vanished. Every soft, teasing kiss he placed made your heart race, his tongue grazing your delicate folds with an unrelenting hunger that sent shivers down your spine.

He devoured you completely, barely coming up for air, his hands holding your hips firmly in place as your fingers tangled in his hair. The sound of his name tumbling from your lips, a melody of pleasure and need that only spurred him on. You felt the tension in your body coil tighter and tighter, until finally, it snapped, sending waves of ecstasy washing over you as you called out his name in pure bliss. "Satoru-I," you catch your breath and sigh deeply as your climax dissipates. The only words you can string together being, "That felt amazing." 

As your breathing slowed and your senses returned, Satoru looked up at you with a soft smile, his lips glistening as he leaned forward to press a kiss against your trembling thigh. “You’re amazing,” he murmured, his voice thick with adoration, making your heart flutter all over again. 

The distant sound of an engine snapped you out of your thoughts, pulling you back to the harsh reality of the present. For a moment, you blinked, disoriented by the shift from the warmth of your memories to the cold solitude of your car. Surprised, you noticed headlights approaching the cliffside. Ducking down in your seat, you peeked cautiously over the steering wheel. A car pulled up to the next ledge, its lights flicking off as the cabin was bathed in dim interior light. Squinting, you tried to make out the driver’s identity. This place had always been a hidden refuge, known to only a select few. Your heart dropped as the cabin lights revealed the driver. The white hair was unmistakable—Satoru.

You watched as he got out of the driver’s seat, seemingly unaware of your presence. He walked around to the passenger side, opening the door for someone else. A beautiful girl stepped out, her laughter echoing faintly in the night air.

“Wow, Satoru, this view is incredible!” she said, her voice carrying effortlessly across the stillness.

Your heart ached as you watched them together, their closeness like a distant echo of what you once had. Tears blurred your vision, warm streaks against the cool air creeping in through the window. This spot, your haven, now felt like a cruel reminder of everything you’d lost. The way he looked at her—like she was the only person in the world—cut deeper than you thought possible. You gripped the steering wheel, your knuckles whitening, trying to hold yourself together. How could he bring her here? To the place where your laughter once mingled with his, where he promised forever under the stars? It felt like those promises had been swept away by the same wind that now carried her laughter, leaving behind only an unbearable silence.

As he leaned against his car, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, something caught his eye. His gaze shifted, narrowing slightly as he focused on your car parked a short distance away. You froze, holding your breath, willing yourself to disappear. For a moment, it seemed like he recognized the familiar outline of your vehicle. His expression faltered, just briefly, before he turned back to the girl, brushing it off like a fleeting thought.

But the damage was done. He had seen it. You knew he had. And the realization sat heavy in your chest. He looked back once more, his eyes narrowing as if piecing together a half-forgotten puzzle. For a moment, the girl’s voice seemed to fade entirely, his focus anchored to the car that sat just yards away. You slumped lower in your seat, every nerve on edge as you silently pleaded for him to look away.

Then, his expression shifted—a flicker of recognition, brief but undeniable. The corners of his mouth twitched, caught somewhere between hesitation and resolve. His hand dropped from the girl’s shoulder as his gaze lingered on your car, the weight of it almost unbearable. You could feel your heart pounding against your ribs, your breath shallow and uneven as if the air itself had thickened.

Finally, he turned back to her, forcing a smile as if shaking off the moment. But as they moved closer to the edge, laughing softly under the stars, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he had known. That somewhere deep down, he had recognized not just the car but the ghost of what you once shared. And now, that unspoken acknowledgment left you drowning, the silence between you heavier than any words could ever be.

[managone16]

Regulus looked up at James, who stood in the corner of the room. His lips looked so soft, it made Regulus want to run away. Run away and hide from him so he wouldn’t do anything impulsive. Just as he was about to turn, James stopped him.

James turned him around, grabbing his arm and kissing him fiercely. It was an overwhelming kiss. It was everything at once. Sweet, sour, bitter, soft, strong—

Regulus could feel James’ tongue slip into his own mouth, the wetness feeling like heaven. He wanted more, so he pushed. Pushing, pushing, pushing. James seemed to have gotten the memo,, as he became faster. More kissing, less breathing. It was as if Regulus’ darkest fantasies coming true.

James then snaked a hand around his waist, dragging it gently down to the rem of his pants. He hovered it around his zipper, as if asking for permission. Regulus nodded frantically, because his mouth could not utter a single word right now other than more.

James immediately unzipped, slipping it in. His hand toyed with the rem of Regulus’ underwear, teasing gently. Regulus groaned, mind still chanting more, more, more.

James was probably a seer. Perhaps that is why he knew exactly what Regulus wanted, because the hand was now touching. Where? Well, everywhere. It was in contact with him, and Regulus felt himself shudder. He could feel himself get shaky, legs a bit wobbly as he almost fell, caught by a strong, warm hand leaving his arm and encircling his waist, pulling him up. 

“Jaime—“ Regulus rasped out, breathless from all of it.

“Hush, love.” James’ mouth had now left his lips, and before Regulus could protest it was on his jaw, kissing, biting, nibbling. He could feel himself practically shivering, but he did not protest. Why would he? He was in heaven.

James’s mouth travelled to his ears, where it seemed to stay for longer than anywhere else. James used his tongue to lick his lobe, sucking on it as it moved upwards, teeth grazing on the cartilage. Regulus didn’t realise when he had tilted his head for James to perform easily, it moved on its own accord. One hand working in his pants, the other clutching his waist.

The sinful mouth of his did everything Regulus could ever want and more as it travelled down, down, down. Regulus couldn’t comprehend everything happening, as it was all too quiet. The only sounds were shuffling of their bodies and the occasional sound Regulus tried very hard to bite down. 

The hand would sometimes move, and sometimes it wouldn’t. It was like James was trying to focus at one thing at a time, and Regulus didn’t like it. He wanted James everywhere.

“Jaime—don’t stop—“ he choked out, trying very hard to make out words in his brain. They seem to have done the trick however, as James’ hands begun once again, a large grin plastered onto his face.

“Baby, don’t worry—“ James cooed, leaning closer to his ear once again, biting at it. 

“I’m not leaving until I see you come.” He whispered, and Regulus didn’t even bother to hide the moan that left his mouth, leaving James far too smiley. He tilted his neck, allowing more of James.

Regulus felt warm. James’ hands were everywhere, touching everything, at all times. Regulus didn’t want it to end. James’ lips were soft, planting wet kisses all around his neck. The occasional bite would make Regulus gasp ever so slightly, and James would only go deeper.

All of a sudden, the hand stopped. Regulus failed to hold back the whine that escaped his lips. But then, James’s lips traveled. Down, down, down.

[redravenblogs]

I can't stop thinking about what an incredible episode "Children of Time" was in how it explored a number of the characters, and I might expound on them later, but I'm particularly transfixed with Odo's arc. For the entirety of the series up to this point, his two defining personality traits are his sense of justice and his profound loneliness, and the writers used both of those to deliver a precision gut punch to the audience.

That profound loneliness is magnified in this 200-years-older version of Odo. He has been waiting and hoping for so long for this brief chance to see Kira again. He probably couldn't even hold his form when she died in his timeline, so he never had the opportunity to tell her how much she mattered to him, or even to say goodbye. He's been living with that for two centuries.

In light of that, what does the staunchness of his past self matter? What did it ever get him? That's why he's so quick to tell her how much he loved her. Loves her.

They get to spend a precious day and a half together before she decides she must sacrifice herself, and he begins desperately and hopelessly trying to convince her not to. Then he asks her: would things have been different between us if you'd known I loved you all along?

When she says "maybe," you can see his heart fucking break all over again. Because he suddenly knows what was possible, even by the slimmest chance, but he's losing her all over again- she has to be thrown 200 years in the past to die so he and his society can continue existing.

And then she kisses him!

SHE is the one who leans in for it!!

And that's the turning point. Because he knows that if she and the rest of the crew make it back to DS9, his past self has a fighting chance to escape the loneliness that has always defined him. His other self has the possibility of something better, even if he is bound to lose her either way. That's why this other Odo is willing to eliminate himself and everyone else on the planet from existence in order for Kira to live. So when everyone else is planning on a noble self-sacrifice, he chooses to be selfish for once.

(Arguably, making it so that 8000 people never existed isn't the same as killing them - one of the big moral quandries of the episode, but I wonder if Odo wouldn't have burned that whole planet to ashes if that's what it took to save her.)

When our Odo is linked with by the alternate timeline Odo, he suddenly knows everything. He knows every single person that lived on that planet. He knows the pain of living for 200 years filled with a regret and loneliness unlike he'd ever experienced before. He knows the fate he narrowly escaped (and was utterly helpless to have any control over). And he suddenly knows what it's like to kiss the woman he's been in love with for ages! And he understands. Because now he also knows hope. A hope so wonderful and so terrible that the other Odo would go to such great lengths for it.

That's why even in the face of Kira's outrage at the great injustice of it all, he can't give her a straight answer when she asks if he thinks what the other Odo did was right. Two hundred years of XP has just downloaded into his brain and is exerting its gravitational pull on his sense of just and unjust... Not to mention he's had his deepest secret revealed to the person who he least wanted to know.

Until now, he's never even opened his mouth about his own feelings because his sense of lawfulness extended to not even creating ripples on the surface of the social status quo. But he's suddenly been blursed with the understanding of how the other Odo has benefitted him. (Wingman of all time?)

The tension between what he's always thought is right and what his gut is telling him he wants now is so delicious to me. His sense of justice is suddenly much more flexible than he ever thought because of the possibility of not being lonely anymore. Finally belonging. It's maybe the most humanizing experience the audience has seen him go through - even more so than being stuck as a solid for a while, I think.

[puppetgirlsstuff]

Choso x Black Reader.

Summary: It's been while since you've seen your bestie. She called you up to go to an night party. You know you couldn't say no so you went. But just for an surprise you'll be seeing someone you didn't think that wouldn't be their.

Warning: fingering, secrets, kissing, getting drunk, smoking, slurs, and mouth job.

As you got ready for you're night out. You heard a buzzing sound. It was you're phone you walked over as you're dress shines in the light with the redness shows out well. It was you're bestie Brooke. She texted you. It saids she arrived. You put you're phone in your bag and headed down stairs to the door. But before you left you gave you're dog some pats before leaving out and locking the door.

When you walked down from the stairs you headed to her car. Opening the car door. Getting in then closing it. "Hey! Bitch I haven't seen you in so long!" Brooke saids to me as she try to hug me in the car. "I know I know I've missed you too!" You tell her as she got done hugging you. Before starting up the car again and started y'all way to the party. "So what's been going on?" You asked her. "Shit nothing much just been getting my bread up. The stripper club isn't so bad once you get used to the assholes around." you giggled at her statement.

"What? I'm being for real. Like they would be drunk as hell just to pour out about their relationships issues. But shit it gets me more money." She takes a right turn through the streets. "But what about you babygirl? I know you've been hella busy I feel like its been a year." She saids with her dramatic tone. "Just been studying theses teachers killing the hell outta me with there work though. No gone lie make's me wanna drop out of college but I wouldn't dare." You gave it to her straight while leaning your head into the seat. "Aw honey I'm sorry to hear that. But you a good one I wouldn't be able to do that shit."

You guys talked a bit more before pulling up to loud music, changing color lights, bottles everywhere on the lawn, some people outside smoking and a hole lotta cars. Brooke park the car and you both got out. "Ready?" She asks you and you nodded. You both walked in the house and well damn you there was a lot going on. Even with games. "Okay so like what you wanna try first!?" Brooke yelled out because of the music. "Let's start with the cup game!" You both walked over just to see a free spot to play. You already knew what to do. This was your favorite game of all.

You waited for a opponent. Just for a pretty damn handsome 5,11 guy to walk up. "Damn that nigga hot." Brooke whispers in your ear. "Bitch you damn right same thing I was think of." You responsed. You felt like he heard y'all because his smirk popped up on his sexy face. He already looked so good with his hair down on his face, and his body. Oh Lord that body. "Hm? Wait... Gurl that's Choso. Remember yo crush back in high school." She was right it was him took you long enough to remember.

You couldn't believe it. But sad part about it you hated him and stop day dreaming over him. You just started the game. Throwing one after another. You realized you were losing to him. 'The hell? Get it together Y/N.' Before you noticed it he won the game. You were upset by it and the drinks made it no better. He smiles at you knowing the feeling you got from the game. You just walked away trying to not let him see it no longer. Brooke followed after you. "Are you okay!?" She yelled. "Yeah just surprised! Can we just find something else to do!?" She nodded and grabbed your hand before taking you to the basement. You were hit with smell of weed. You sat down on couch where they were smoking at. "Pass dat." You told the boy next to you. It wasn't that loud so it was cool to just use your inner voice a bit. You got down to work. It was a cycle. Just smoking it, passing to the next, and drinking.

'Fuck I need to refill my drink.' You got up and let Brooke know you'll be back. You went back upstairs. And headed to the kitchen. You refilled it and turned back around to head back but you ended up bumping into someone. Making your drink spilled upon your chest. It leaks down a bit slowly. "Fuck watch where your fucking going dude!" You told him off. You look up to see it was Choso. "Oh I'm sorry mamas didn't see you there." You knew it was bullshit. "Why were you so close!?" You looked at him pissed.

"Just forget it!" You didn't give him time to answer and stormed off the bathroom. You found one that was free. You walked in it and closed the door. Your top of the dress was ruined and smelled like strong liquor. You started to wipe some off but it was still some on your breasts. So you unzipped your dress a bit so you could clean them off. You heard a knock on the door. "I'm in here!" you yelled and continued to wipe some off. As you looked in the mirror the door was opening. You didn't have time to close it. But it was no other then Choso walking in and closing the door.

"Hey what the hell I'm busy!?" You tell him trying to hide you're half naked body. You try to put back on your dress. But fails to "No need for the clothes babe." He saids locking the door before walking up to you and pressing up against your ass. You didn't know why put you felt a type a way. "What are you doing. Back up some.." You looked down from the mirror. You didn't want to see his face. Everytime you did it made things worse. "Embarrassed sweet heart?" He saids as he leans onto your neck with kisses. You're breathing felt heavy. His hands felt upon you're dress. As he takes it off fully. You weren't wearing a bra. It's not like you needed it.

"Mm you naughty little slut you weren't wearing nothing." You whimpered a bit to his words. But of course you had panties your dark red soft panties. He gripped both of your breasts while playing with your nipples. Pitching them bit. While he sucked on you neck. You felt heavy under him. Everything you were taking in. You felt wet. He stopped sucking on your neck. "You were just so mean to me. Why is that?" He teases you in his tone "And not only that you just started to get so cold towards me back in high school."

He let's go of one of your boobies as it bounces. Then he took that hand to pull your head back so you were looking at the mirror. "Answer me!" His deep tone scares you but only made you wetter. You couldn't answer him. "No answer? Hm that's okay babe you don't have to talk yet." He let's go of your hair then your other boob. You thought he was done after not answering him. But so dead wrong you was. You felt him taking off your panties. They slid down on it's own. You felt his fingers pushed inside. It caught you off.

It made you moan out. "So wet. And yet I haven't even touched you that much." His pace got sped up a bit. Teasing you and it was annoying. You're whimpers were telling that out to him. "F-faster.." your words were going downhill. Those drinks finally kicking in. "I don't think you understand. You're not the one whos calling the shots here." He goes deeper. And you pout at his words. His pace sped up a bit. But more deep he goes. "More more.." He smiles "No babe you don't get what you want remember?"

He takes his fingers out of you. "On your knees and in front me now." His tone you felt. But you did as he saids. "Feel it." You put your hand to feel it through his pants. "You see how hard you've made me feel." He groans out. "You know what to do get to work." You unbuckle his pants and pulls them down. You see it poking through. You pull his underwear down. "Go ahead." You start by licking it and a few strokes. He groans out to your touch. You tasted the tip and licking it in circles.

"Oh fuck babe. I need more." He pushes you up and down on it making you go fast. The sounds fills the room. You couldn't help but gag on him. Your moans sent him. "Shit your mouth feels so good." He slaps your face a couple of time. "Look at my face with those pretty eyes." You look at him with watery eyes. "Ahh shit hm. So good." He chuckles a bit. "Don't cry babe you know you like it." You close you're eyes while the tears streams down. But you feel pain on your cheek. "What the fuck I say bitch eyes open." He moans out and pulls your head all the way down on him. "Shit!" He came down your throat. And took it outta you're mouth. "Swallow all of it." Once again you do as you're told. "Good girl. Since you've been so good for me I'll let you cum." You get up off your knees and stand in front of him.

"Where do you want me most mamas? Inside you dicking you deep. While I'm holding you up in the air?" You nodded to him. "Yes p-please." You tell him and he looks at you. He picks you up and now both of you are making full eye contact. You wrap your legs around him same with your arms. He starts to kiss you. His tongue connecting with yours. Before you knew it he slips it inside you. The feeling of how tight you were. "Oh fuck-.." He moan in the kiss.

He started his pace fucking you against the wall. You're nail deep into his back. As he starts to increase it. "You're so tight. So perfect for me." You felt him stretching you out. He wasn't small he's pretty big from what you thought. "H-harder." You tell him. The pain turn into pleasure but you wanted more from him. "As you wish." He whispers in your ear. Then starts to rough kiss you as he went in deeper and harder in you. You screamed his name between the kisses he gave. He knows you were getting close.

He keep on he felt it. Before you knew it you came on him. It came down hard you were shaking from it. "That's my girl." He whispers. You were trying to calm down from your high. But he keep going. You cried out to him. "No it hurts.. To much." Your started to tear up. "No stop."

"Aww why stop? You were just begging for it like the little slut you are." He tells you as he thrusts in deeper. "Plus babe I haven't cum inside yet." You couldn't take being overstimulated. You never did it before. "Shh it's okay were almost there."

He was right you felt him twitching. You bite his neck for support. Your spit leaking down from the bite mark. "Ah fuck. Just a few more. I know you can handle it." He pounds into you a little more. You whimper loudly while squeezing your eyes shut. "I know I kno-.. Fuck. It's okay babe I know your coming down to another orgasm." You breath heavily to his words you knew he was right. "Cum for me mamas." He tells you as his last thrust inside you.

The body beneath him as her orgasm crashed over her, her pussy clamping down around his cock like a silken vice. A scream of pure ecstasy tore from her throat, tears streaming down her face as waves of pleasure consumed her. He let out a groan as he felt her come undone, her climax triggering his own.

With one final, brutal thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside her spasming channel as his own release overtook him. His hot seed erupted from his cock, painting her insides white and jerked in her. He holds her for a bit a calm down before putting her down.

As the final aftershocks faded, He looks down at her, his eyes dark and intense. He brushed away her tears with his thumb, a hint of tenderness in the gesture that made the moment all the more unsettling.

"That's my good girl," he murmured, his voice a low, satisfied rumble. "My perfect little whore." You both got cleaned up after that. He made sure you had his number. Because after that there's no way he's letting you get away from him again. You said you're good bye to Choso and went off to find Brooke. Once you did she yelled at you about disappearing for to long. She was worried something had happened.

Truth is nothing did. You just had some catching up to do with an old crush of yours.

[asraxfile]

MY BLINDED EYES ARE RED

sypnosis Minnie and you broke up cause of lack of intimacy, but the biggest lie that you've ever told yourself is that anyone could please you better than her.

pairing non-idol!Minnie x fem!reader

genre smut, fluff, angst if you squint

warnings sexual intercourse, kissing, soft moments, you get back w Minnie

word count 1k

A/n: I love her pre release sm and its such a freaky song for a freaky fic 😋 Enjoy readinn ^^

You don’t quite remember how you got into the situation you were facing right this moment.

You were feeling way too lonely in your wide apartment walls, especially without her. 

Minnie and you broke up because of various reasons; lack of trust, intimacy and communication. Which resulted in you hooking up with a bunch of other girls just to get over the lonely feeling of being away from Minnie. 

The mad and hot feeling of anger would fill your head every time you wake up in your bed and Minnie wasn’t with you but some girl who just wanted sexual pleasure. 

You knew Minnie would want much more than just that. 

And so, you decided to call Minnie to work things out and let’s just say you both got too needy. 

Light but vocal groans escaped your mouth as your fingers gripped Minnie’s silk blonde hair. She was putting just enough pressure with her tongue on your sweet spot to make your eyes roll back in ecstasy. You looked down at her only to be shocked at her already gazing at your expression, as if she knew what your next move will be. 

In this moment you realized, all of those other women could never please, touch or make you feel like Minnie could ‘cause she found you once again when you were this lost. 

And so, she brings you to your ecstasy, her fingers buried deep inside you as she waits for you to finish your orgasm. Hitting just the right spot.

“You did so well for me baby, I got you.” Minnie whispered under her breath. She crawled closer to you on bed as she snuggled against you. Kissing your cheek as you exhaled deeply. 

And there you both were, naked—skin to skin and heart to heart. 

Hugging Minnie by her shoulder her hands grazed your stomach gently which tickled you slightly. 

“I’ve missed you, a lot.” your tone was quiet, but enough for Minnie to realize how much you regret not giving her your time. Minnie shifted to look up at you with her brown eyes, a small pout on her face. 

“I’ve missed you too.” 

The silence falls again for a couple of minutes till you bring the courage to speak up.

“I think we both knew this wouldn’t work without talking it out,” you look down at Minnie. “Well, we didn’t talk much now and look where we ended up.” Minnie joked as both if you chuckle at her words. 

“I’ve been thinking ‘bout you lately though.” your eyes widened at her sentence. “Really?” you ask, hope in your voice. “Yeah I mean, I guess I just…” Minnie rests on your elbow, the blanket revealing the skin of her waist. 

Deeply she stared into your eyes as you stayed still laying on your back. “I’m just too obsessed with you” she chuckled under her breath again as you smiled sweetly. 

“The more I was away the more I realized it felt colder.” 

Minnie leaned in and kissed you once again with her pink plump lips. Your arm snaked at the back of her head as you felt the electric feeling of love strikethrough the kiss. Pulling away, you smiled with your eyes at Minnie. 

“I gotta admit,” you start. “All the hoes I had here could never compare to you.” As Minnie chuckles. “I’m serious!!” 

Minnie’s lips turned into a faint smile, through her eyes carried a weight you recognized all too well. “You’re a fool,” she whispered, leaning closer, her breath warm against your ear. “But you’re my fool.”

The exact sentence made your heart flutter as well as the red on your cheeks. For the rest of the night you spent snuggling and pillow talking with Minnie, happier than ever with her finally being your lover again. 

There was always something soft about Minnie. You felt just right with her—like you belong. And nobody could take you away from her. Though ice and flames might have happened with her but the wind always brings back your ashes back to her. 

[babyzzai]

arcane cglre labels ⋆˙⟡ ♡

vi: flip with caregiver lean // i think vi has a natural instinct to care for others, the way she cared for powder, and in a way mylo and claggor too. she just has such big sister energy that i cant not see her as a caregiver. despite this i think she still needs her own regression time, and her own time to decompress and let herself be taken care of for once. i think her little age is around 3-5! a bit on the younger side, because shes never really been taken care of before, and so being in a younger headspace would allow her to more easily depend on someone else.

jinx: regressor ALL the way. // oh my gawd. if jinx isnt a baby the sky is freaking like purple idk, because ill bet my top dollar shes a regressor. shes a very very mischievous baby lol, probably a chaos toddler, around 3-5 years old!

cait: neutral // shes never heard of age regression before she met vi, and was a little confused but ultimately accepting in the long run. shes not a caregiver but shell care for vi whenever she regresses, because she loves her!

jayce: regressor // for a long time he thought he was neutral too, but actually engaged in regression without realizing!! he doesnt really know his regression age. id say maybe somewhere between 6-10, but its kinda unsure. hes not that familiar with his regression and is kinda uneducated about it so even after finding out about agere he doesnt really know what to do with that.

viktor: flip with no lean!! // everyone hcs viktor as a little, which i can get behind because i think living with a terminal and chronic illness is traumatic for him and he regresses to cope with those feelings and the physical pain, but something in me sees so much potential of viktor as a gentle caregiver. oh my gawd caregiver viktor please save me, hes SO important to me!! i think viktor is actually pretty educated about age regression because hes a scientist and he understands psychology more than the other character probably. i think his regression age would be around 8-10, a bit older, but still a kiddo. sometimes hell go younger though, around 4-6.

ekko: regressor // idk why i have this headcanon, i just do. it just feels right. his regression age is around 5-7! he likes to try and use his hoverboard when regressed but he does not have the same control and balance as he does when big lol.

mel: neutral // i think mel is neutral but knows of age regression. shell be a babysitter for any littles in need but i dont think she has her own little tbh. she views it as something completely normal and natural, which shed be correct for, and doesnt think twice of it tbh. i think it was mel actually who first informed jayce of age regression and asked him if he thought he could be a regressor!

isha: regressor // isha is already pretty young, id guess probably between 8-10 years old literally. i think though shes experienced a lot of traumatic events, no one even really knows where her parents are in the show if im correct, and she regresses to around 1-3 years old! jinx isnt a caregiver but she sees herself as ishas big sister so of course shell… attempt to take care of her baby sister lol. caregiving may not come naturally to jinx, but she tries. she makes her fun toys and plays games like hide and seek and tag, and likes to doodle with the baby!

[deoidesign]

Can you make a tutorial on how you world build and make ocs? I can't seem to make any people in my brain, but then when I try to come up with environments jobs, beliefs and little details to slowly come up with someone, I think: well I don't really know how people have influenced the world- it's a weird loop

To be honest, I don't think I can! Writing is an extremely personal process. The way I write is directly related to how I process things, what I find important in stories, years of my own analysis of my and other's writing, etc... The way you write will be unique to you, as well. But I can explain how I personally think of it.

The short answer:

Write. Write anything and everything, it's a tool to explore your ideas. Analyze your own writing, and write more. Then, as you discover which ideas you want to develop, write more to explore them more. You won't know what you want otherwise!

The long answer:

I think this kind of loop is common. It's easy to feel like everything needs to be done "at once," because our job as writers is to make elements logically fit with each other for our readers. But as you've discovered, developing multiple elements simultaneously isn't really possible, or at least is extremely difficult.

Personally, when I think of writing, I break it into three major elements; characters, world, and plot. As much as possible every scene explores one or more of these, and as much as possible these three things tie back into what I personally consider most important: theme.

Everything I do is in service of the themes I want to present. Without them my events feel aimless. It can take a while to discover them, but they're the core of my work. You will have to discover what you feel is the core of yours. Analyzing other media helps with this too.

Concepts in your brain exist in a state of infinite potential. But when you start writing you have to start making choices, which removes potential as you move forward... But you have to move forward anyways. If there's ideas you want to explore later, you can always explore them later.

What this ends up meaning, to answer your question, is that I don't think of my characters as "people in my brain" or my worlds as something people have influenced... Not at their core, at least. They are tools that I use to represent specific ideas. Obviously they're also my blorbos, but mostly they're serving a specific narrative purpose.

So above all else... Write. Write, and discover what you're writing about, and then start over and write with that in mind. Keep doing this. But you have to write!

[intersexghoul]

Sorry I gotta rant in the tags like a maniac because we have nobody to talk to about this without risking our closest friendship. Nobody is required to read and honestly I'd encourage ignoring it

[ttsukiimi]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ F⍣CK HER ‘TILL SHE SORE!

★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⎯ He’s not addicted to your cũnt—he swears. He swears even as he’s forced the fourth ōrgasm out of you tonight; and there’s more to come.

★ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⎯ gojo x fem!reader, toji x fem!reader, choso x fem!reader, nanami x fem!reader, smut (mdni), tit play, multiple örgasms, size difference (choso), slight còckwarming (nanami), reader referred to as (princess, baby, doll, good girl)

✧･ﾟ𝓖. 𝓢 ✧･ﾟ

Gojo didn’t even know how he even initially found himself inside you—it was like one second he was cuddling closer to you as his eyes glued to the tv, then another your leg was hoisted over his waist as he jerked his hips into you repeatedly. Was it his fault? Had he begged you to let him put just the tip in? Yes.

But you had given in, and that in its own was your mistake.

“Stay still, princess, wanna give it to you good,” he whispered in your ear, the way his shaky breath fanned past your neck causing goosebumps to bloom on your skin. You nodded, though it wasn’t a promise, and tried to take each passionate thrust of his girth he gave to you.

You were clutching the couch pillow for dear life, whining as you felt euphoria rock through you so pleasurably for the umpteenth time that night. The movie playing had long been forgotten—only serving as background noise, and to Satoru a nuisance since the sounds drowned out your heavenly moans.

He huffed into the skin of your neck, determined to now make you louder, and a hot slap landed on your left cheek, effectively coaxing a loud yelp from your lips. “Mh—!”

And you were sensitive by then, his seed dripping from your battered cunt, your body shivering and thighs quivering, but even then he was set on urging one last orgasm out of you.

Or two.

Hell, he couldn’t even promise it wouldn’t be three. But he just needed to stay inside of you.

Satoru’s hands came up from behind you before they latched onto your chest, groping your tits as he muttered lewd words in your ear.

“You like when I fucking play with these pretty tits, hm?” He kissed your shoulder, and you felt a smile form against your skin as the only thing you could let out was a weak whine—too drunk on his dick to speak. Satoru groaned at the sound, his lips finding your pulse point as he spoke.

“Always so dumb once I get inside you,”

✧･ﾟ𝓒.𝓚✧･ﾟ

Choso doesn’t have an exact idea of why he loves being buried inside you so much; perhaps it’s the way you sound, the way you feel, or the way you look—tears in your eyes and all—but he does know that he’d die happy if that meant he was inside you in his last moments.

And he absolutely adores every minute that he is.

Because with how much your greedy cunt is pulsing around him, and your manicured nails are scratching red lines down his back, Choso thinks he’s really found heaven. Right between your legs.

“Baby, slow down, Cho,” you whined, your sight obscured with tears though you could still make out the image of his sculpted body over yours, and he’s so big compared to you.

Sometimes he might forget that—but could you blame him though? Anyone would forget about some mere size difference when inside your addictive pussy, and he proved to be that anyone.

Choso leaned forward, and in the process his hair fell forward, framing both yours and his face. His hands ventured up your body and found their place on your chest, squeezing the meleable flesh.

“‘S okay, you can take it,” he mumbled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, uncaring of the slight drool dribbling from the side of your mouth. With each thrust the course hairs at his base tickled your clit, stimulating you in a way that felt so good your whole body was quivering with pleasure.

“Just..one more, baby,”

✧･ﾟ𝓝.𝓚✧･ﾟ

Sometimes Nanami finds himself wondering just what you do to him, how you’ve changed him in ways he couldn’t himself in the past years you’ve been together. He can't help but smile when he sees your infectious smile, and he melts when he hears your sweet laugh.

But, above all, you've created an addiction in him. One that he seems to think about every waking moment; even at work, and that’s new territory for him.

What’s worse is that you know. Always teasing him about how pussy drunk he is, how he’d really do anything just to be inside you—not like he’s denying that—but he can’t retaliate with the way the tips of his ears burn pink. So, he’ll prove it.

“Kento, what’re you—“ you cut yourself off with an uneven breath, eyes rolling to the back of your head in tandem with the way he pushes himself into you.

His strong arms are wrapped around you, keeping you in place, but he strangely doesn’t begin to move. The reason being—well, he’s testing himself. His resolve, his patience by not moving a single inch, even while being compressed by your tight warmth.

Which is proving to be a challenge already for Nanami.

“Proving to you that ‘m not—“ he halts, groaning and gritting his teeth as you slightly shift, causing a grin to flourish on your face.

“That you’re not what?” you retort, pushing your hips back onto him, taking him in deeper than he already was. Your hand reaches back and caresses his face, cooing above his lips. “Know you wanna move. ‘M not stopping you either, ken.”

You’re so close to his lips Nanami could move an inch and they’d touch, but he won’t, of course. But…when you’re fucking yourself on his cock, moaning out for him to hear, to tease him, Nanami thinks maybe there isn’t anything to prove.

Maybe he is drunk on your pussy.

✧･ﾟ𝓣.𝓕✧･ﾟ

Toji knows of his slight compulsion towards your pussy. His tendency to always want to be inside is truly something that needs to be studied—because there’s absolutely no way his sex drive should be this significant.

Admittedly, he is aware of his addiction, but will he take any action to try to change his behavior? No. That then becomes your problem to tackle, but you have the perfect solution.

“A what?” Toji mumbled, licking the scar on his lip as he creased an eyebrow upwards in confusion. You were sat on his lap, your arms looped around his neck and you began to speak.

“A Sex ban, Toji.” you attempted to suppress your grin when you saw the confusion on his face only deepen, and a big hand came to cup your cheek, forcing you to look at him.

“‘M not for all your little games today, doll. Got a mission tomorrow and y’know what that means.” he sighed, his free hand holding your waist, slowly sliding to the waistband of your shorts and beginning to pull them down.

“But, really baby, we—you need a break.” you protested, but just couldn’t counter back with the way his rough and thick fingers were already playing with your folds, gathering your essence.

Quickly, his lips were on yours and that shut you up, which gave him time to free himself from his sweats and enter you in one, swift motion.

He wasted no time in holding your hips and bouncing you up and down on his cock, a smug smirk on his lips as he looked at the way your eyes rolled back in pleasure. You weren’t one to talk about a sex ban when you could hardly even let him go on a mission for more than 2 days without complaining about how much you missed him and his magic dick.

“Now ya just be quiet and take what I give you, yeah?” he breathed in your ear as his big hands groped your tits, fingers playing with your hardened nipples. The pleasure coursed throughout your body so deliciously, already causing your thighs to begin quivering and your pussy pulsed around him, greedy to suck him dry.

“Good girl,”

[tonycries]

Great With Kids? (You Can Have Mine) - C.K.

Synopsis. When your younger brother gets a new babysitter, only two questions linger on your mind: 1. How come your parents didn’t trust you in charge? 2. How dare the sexy babysitter be so perfect - it made you want some attention too.

Pairings. Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, babysitter! Choso, male masturbation, voyeurism (from reader), Choso with nipple piercings and eyeliner hngh, unprotected, 69, choking, overstim, oral (male + female receiving), creampie, dirty talk, friends-to-lovers, Choso is down BAD and always has been, mentioned younger brother, swearing. 

Word count. 9.0k

A/N. Gojo longfic next time because I miss my pretty blue-eyed princess.

Your younger brother’s new babysitter was hot.

With a capital h. 

Scarily hot, in fact, that it made you wonder why the hell people stopped having babysitters past the age of 14.

Ah, Choso Kamo, the ever-elusive eldest son of the Itadori’s from next door. You still remember the first time you met him - well, mostly. 

The world was rocking gently at exactly 12:34AM after a night out with your old high school friends. And so were you, stumbling tipsily into your driveway, soaking up the warm summer air. 

Fumbling with the doorbell, you fully expected your parents to still be away on that extravagant couples’ cruise they’d won - one that probably cost more than your tuition.

Which also meant you expected the old lady from down the street to be babysitting tonight. Still wide awake and absolutely bursting at the seams to give you a detailed rundown about the neighborhood tea - who’s divorcing who, and her top suspects for who stole her prized garden gnome. 

What you certainly did not expect was for that door to swing open and to find yourself face-to-face with the most ridiculously attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on. Shirtless.

Dazed, your eyes involuntarily sweep his figure from head to toe - taking in every inch of those dark, sleep-mussed locks falling effortlessly around his slightly smudged eyeliner, all the way down to the chiseled- oh god, were those nipple piercings?

Alas, the universe isn’t on your side, and you don’t get to confirm, because suddenly the door slams right in your face, almost rattling off its hinges at the force. The sound echoes in your ears as you blink in disbelief at what the fuck that was. Was that real - was he real? 

You double check the address you’ve known for years - just in case - because, hell, if you were dreaming then this was a damn good one. Taking a deep breath, you try to focus on something that won’t make your head spin before reaching for the door again.

But before your finger could even graze the doorbell, it cracks open once more. The same mysterious man towered before you, this time - you note, with a tinge of disappointment - wearing a snug t-shirt that still doesn’t do much to hide that godly physique. 

“Not that m’complaining, but who’re you and why’re ya in my house?” you manage to slur out, voice betraying the shiver that runs down your spine at his intense gaze. He simply leans against the doorframe, arms crossed and expression unreadable. 

“Choso,” he drawls lightly, eyes never leaving your face. Shit, even his voice was hot. 

You nod slowly, mind racing as you blearily try to remember just where you’d heard that name before. Some family friend? Nah, you’d know him if that was the case. An actor? God, he sure had the looks. 

Mercifully sensing your struggle, he clears his throat, snapping you out of your drunken reverie. “Not surprised you haven’t seen me around, sweetheart, but my parents live next door.” he offers, tone laced with amusement and something else you can’t place. “M’babysitting your brother for tonight.”

You almost don’t hear the second part of his explanation, because it hits you like a ton of bricks - oh shit, this was Choso? Choso either-a-hallucination-or-a-vampire Kamo? 

In all your years of having the Itadoris as your neighbors, you’d only seen fleeting glimpses of their eldest son - a flash of black hair at the window, or a sculpted, tattooed arm waving off Yuji at the doorway. And, well, you didn’t know what exactly you’d anticipated. You just didn’t expect him to be so…hot. Or stand half-naked in front of you.

God, he made you more dizzy than the alcohol. 

“Damn,” you mutter under your breath, more to yourself than anything. Yet Choso still hears, quirking an eyebrow, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Everything alright there?” he hums, the hint of a tease in his tone. Smug bastard.

You nod your head, clutching onto the doorframe for support as you lean in closer. “Mhm, perfect.” Wait- was that a blush dusting his face? Damn, this dream just keeps getting better and better.

Liquid courage coursing through you, you bat your lashes, too tipsy to even attempt a wink, “Well, Choso, let me know if ya need any help babysitting, jus’ know I’m always down to-” 

And then - perhaps to save you from the embarrassment of an awful pickup line - that’s when the universe decides to remind you of exactly how many kamikaze shots you’ve downed. The world lurches beneath you. Your hands scramble for something - anything - solid.

Ah, falling down really does feel good, especially when the ground is so warm, and soft. Smelling faintly of vanilla, with a hint of sunshine. 

And then it’s all black. 

To match his eyes.

---

The smell of vanilla still lingers in your mind as you slowly pry your eyes open, squinting against the harsh morning sunlight streaming in through your window. Groaning, you feel as though you’ve been run over by a truck. Five of them, in fact. 

Trying to will away the pounding headache, you bury yourself deeper into the snug covers of…your bed…that you’ve been tucked into? 

Oh shit. Sitting up with a gasp, you hastily try to rub away the sleep from your pointedly makeup-less eyes, remnants of last night now flooding back to you with a surge of embarrassment. 

Choso. Shirtless. Babysitting. Shirtless. But most importantly - your awful display of drunken flirting. The man appears once in a blue moon and you hit on him? Perfect. Great. Wonderful. 

And just as you’re entertaining the idea of convincing your parents to move neighborhoods, you realize with a jolt that he must’ve been the one that carried you up here and took care of you. Even after all of that. 

With a sigh, you rub your temples, wincing as it throbs at the laughter carrying from downstairs - one of them so decidedly Choso. Deep voice ringing in your ears, you can almost feel the lingering traces of his strong arms holding you flush against his chest, or the warm hands gently wiping off your eye shadow.

And it seems Choso had a penchant for interrupting your barely-lucid thoughts, because the door creaks open, ripping through the heavy silence in your room. Heart in your throat, you startle as Choso carefully steps into your room, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“G’morning,” he says, voice so gentle that some small, strange part of you thinks you could listen to it forever. “Feeling any better?”

You offer him a sheepish grin, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks at the memory of your drunken antics. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks for... well, everything.”

Chuckling softly, his gaze softens as he steps closer, taking in your slightly-disheveled appearance. “It was the least I could do, sweetheart. Now, c’mon, your brother and I are making pancakes.” 

You fidget nervously under his gaze, suddenly feeling self-conscious even as he turns to leave the room at your silence. Say it, you idiot. Say it. 

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, words tumbling out in a rush. “I didn’t mean to... y’know, act like a Victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles for the first time-” 

“It’s al-”

 “I swear I’ve seen ankles-”

A large hand cradling your cheek, his thick rings searingly cold against your chin as he tilts your chin up to meet his warm gaze - and those suspiciously red cheeks. “S’alright, sweetheart. I didn’t mind.” 

And, well, if this was his way of shutting you up then by God was it effective. Because you didn’t trust yourself to speak even as Choso gives you an easy smile. Even as he withdraws his hand, the air thick with something you were too hungover to overthink about. 

Not until he turns back to the door, flashing you a teasing smile, “Besides, it was kinda cute.”

And with that, Choso steps through the door with the audacity of someone that hadn’t uttered words that sent your mind reeling. 

As the creak of the door echoes behind him, Choso’s warm touch still sears into your skin. Something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach. Only one thought rings clear in your hazy, still-hungover mind - one that makes your cheeks flare: this was going to be a very interesting summer.

You just didn’t realize how interesting it would be. Not until two weeks, four days, and sixteen hours after you first met Choso. 

It starts out innocently enough, taking the early shift at your internship, volunteering to help with the chores - you find yourself subconsciously making excuses to be around him whenever he’s scheduled to babysit.

You’ve probably learned everything there is to know about the man by now - from the way he likes his eggs (sunny side up) to that time he accidentally dyed his brother’s hair neon pink while trying out a recipe for homemade hair dye. 

Likewise, Choso happens to be the only one who knows that you were the one that accidentally caused that flood in your dorm that required five floors and two plumbers to resolve. 

At this point, Choso’s at your house more often than not - where Choso is, there is you, and where you are, there is Choso. And your brother…and sometimes Yuji, but semantics.

“Semantics” are probably why you find yourself rushing home straight from your internship, ignoring every invitation for an after-work drink - to see your brother, of course. No other reason - definitely not because of the way Choso will inevitably be there too. Or because of the way his smile makes something strange coil in your stomach. Or-

Okay, maybe you speedwalked up your driveway faster than usual a little bit because of Choso. But as you’ve said - semantics.

Yet, sometimes you even think there’s a familiar flicker of something more in those dark eyes.

…

Nahhh. 

Stepping into the yard, the air thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and the deafening sounds of splashing, a smile tugs at your lips at the awfully wholesome view that greets you.

Your brother and Yuji are locked in a fierce battle, water guns being brandished like the most seasoned warriors.

And Choso - towering over everyone else - was at the epicenter of the chaos, his laughter booming over the commotion. Shirtless. Again. 

His bare, tattooed torso gleams in the light, muscles flexing with each movement as if sculpted by the gods themselves. Droplets of water glistening on his dark hair like diamonds in the fading light.

Traitorously, your cheeks burn as you step closer, desperately trying to rip your gaze from the milky abs peeking out and the tantalizing glint of metal winking so sinfully at you under the sun.

So he does have nipple piercings.

God, you have to get your mind out of the gutter.

As you approach, Choso’s grin widens, a playful sparkle dancing in his eyes. Without hesitation, he scoops up a large water balloon and takes aim, launching it with frightening accuracy in your direction.

The icy water hits you before the realization, and you squeal in surprise as the balloon connects right with your chest, seeping into your shirt. Glancing down with a startled laugh, you realize a moment too late that your once-pristine white shirt is now completely see-through. 

Heat rushes to your cheeks, but the damage has been done. Smug bastard, you think, glancing up at Choso, slightly red-faced yet wearing a sly grin as he surveys the aftermath of his well-aimed shot.

“Shoulda just told me if you wanted a peak, you lecher. This shirt was expensive, y’know.” you call out, mock-glaring at the man that stood so infuriatingly beautifully in front of you.

Choso throws his head back in a laugh that makes something tingle all the way down from your toes to your burning cheeks. “Maybe you shoulda just kept your guard up, sweetheart,” 

You scoff, “Maybe you should stop being a distraction then.”

His grin widens, reaching for another nearby water balloon, “S’not my fault you’re so easily distracted. No need to be a sore loser.”

“Oh, it’s on now.”

“Well, well, looks like we have a new contender in the water war,” Choso remarks mischievously to the kids, gesturing towards you. Yeah, really smug bastard.

Ah, what the hell. This shirt was on sale anyway.

---

Now, Choso knows you’re hot - always has.

Ever since that first day he moved in next door, when he stumbled upon you sunbathing in your backyard wearing that sinful bikini. And, well, after hours of moving boxes upon boxes of Yuji’s dumbbells, the mere sight of you was like the gates of heaven spread wide open for him. 

But, especially now - all drenched and disheveled. Your shirt sticking to your curves like a second skin in all the ways that should be illegal - and also makes some strange part of him slightly jealous. Beaming smile directed right at him - shit, this might as well just be the final nail on his coffin. Death by you.

Amidst the chaos and confusion, you're a force to be reckoned with. Choso can barely tear his eyes off of you, breathless and victorious in pure adrenaline-fueled bravado, declaring “Beg for mercy and I’ll let you off easy, Choso.”

“Kinky, but absolutely not, sweetheart.”

Clutching a particularly large water balloon, raising your hand high high high - hurtling it straight at him with an unapologetic smirk, “Then, better run for your life.”

Oh? Maybe Choso was a masochi- what was that- 

A flash of his favorite lacy pink, your poor buttons faltering at the sheer force of your throw. Choso doesn’t even feel the cold splash! square on his chest as he’s drenched icily from head to toe. Too transfixed.

Too focused on trying not to make it obvious he’s mentally calculating the chances of your shirt coming off altogether…

Eyes locked on the sliver of soft skin peeking out at him. Only registering you and the traitorous rush of heat flooding his cheeks - and his cock - as he averts his gaze, internally smacking himself for letting his thoughts wander into such dangerous territory. 

Both thanking and cursing the gods above, Choso realizes with a pang that he’s not just screwed, he’s absolutely twisted, tangled, and tied up in knots.

So utterly screwed, in fact, that he probably needs to make a quick run to the bathroom now.

Like, right now.

Shit. 

With a muttered excuse of a bathroom break, each step more urgent than the last, Choso can’t help but wonder if the water balloon incident was some sort of cosmic punishment for his wandering thoughts. Some divine intervention from his ancestors for being such a pussy around you all these years.

And as he slams that bathroom door closed, bunches his pants bunched underneath his heavy balls, and takes his throbbing cock in his hands, Choso thinks he might just see the gates of heaven - well, at least he’ll be able to give his ancestors a piece of his mind there.

With a groan, he leans against the closed door, eyes scrunching shut as he takes his swollen cock in his fist. Leaking hot precum and glistening in the dim bathroom light. He grips the base tightly, pulsing and achingly hard for you. 

Cold rings searing against his skin, Choso wastes no time - wanting to get this over with and join you again more than anything - starting up a hasty, desperate pace up and down his length that makes his knees buckle. Tighter on the base, just teasing his furiously flushed tip. Pink. Pink to match your bra.

With you so sinfully soaked through, wearing that goddamn lacy bra out there, Choso wasn’t as strong a man to possibly get you out of his mind. He can’t help but imagine your sultry smile, how it would look wrapped around his cock. 

Arm straining now, a shiver runs down his spine - all the way to his throbbing erection. “Shit.” he breathes, “J-jus’ like that, sweetheart.” 

Head only filled with you, and your lips and you-

He milks his base tighter - would you take him all in one go? Look up at him with those beautiful, teary eyes as you choke around his cock? 

One hand pulls in urgent, jerky little moves that have his hips bucking into his fist. The other reaches up muffle the fucked out moans leaving his swollen lips. God, it would take everything it had in him to not fuck up into your pretty lil’ mouth. Watch you cock-drunk and taking him so well. 

Or maybe…

Eyes rolling to the back of his head, Choso fights back a groan as he reaches a hand up to teasingly thumb under his slit. Delicate beads of precum dripping onto the cold tile with a deafening drip! drip! drip! Smearing at the way he rubs maddening little circles under that one spot, grazing his sensitive veins. 

Maybe you’d be a a fucking tease - run your tongue under his pulsing head so agonizingly slow. Knowing you, you’d probably pull away as soon as he bucks his hips into your mouth. Lips swollen and glossed prettily with his precum as you whisper, “Now now, baby. If you don’t act like a good boy then you won’t get to cum~”

“Sh-shit, hah-” Choso thinks he’s going insane, he can practically hear your hums as you kiss along his length, tongue darting out to trace his throbbing veins so obscenely. Flicking at his sensitive head. Eyes sparkling - ready to positively devour him. 

All for him. 

It’s too much. 

“Ah- Ngh, fuck.” he moans hoarsely, letting out a low, fucked-out little call of your name. “More. Need m-more, sweetheart.” 

Body shuddering violently, sweat dripping from his brow, Choso’s thighs quiver as he fucks his fist at an almost-animalistic pace. Chasing his release with reckless abandon. 

Choso’s heart pounds wildly in his chest as he tries - and fails - to maintain control. Raspy whines of your name escape through the crevices of his fingers, cracking ever-so-slightly in a way he knows he’d be embarrassed about if he was in a better state of mind. 

Giving up his futile attempt, long fingers snake down below to cradle his balls in a way he knows you’d do better. Tugging and pulling at a jerky rhythm that matches his hand. 

Some tiny, practical part of his brain hopes - prays - that you won’t call off the water fight early and come up to check on him. He knows he should hurry up, he knows he’s fucked if you ever found out. Shit, he should bake you apology cookies tomorrow.

But fuck are so you perfect for him. Voice so pretty and eyes so warm as you turn your gaze to his undeserving self. He’d kill to see if you still look at him that way when - if - he absolutely ruins you.

Would you be able to take all of him? Would you pout adorably until he shoves his dick down your throat? Gagging as he hits the back of your throat over and over - oh how Choso would love to mess up your mascara. He’d fucking tattoo your lipstick stains on his dick if he could. 

“Cum f’me, baby.” you’d mewl, and shit would he burn down this entire world to hear you call him that. “Mm, fill me up with your cum, wan’ taste you, baby-”

“Fuck,” he curses again, voice thick with need, and tight balls twitching so sensitively. “Fuck...fuck fuck fuck. M’gonna cum- shit- gonna cum, sweetheart.”

You - all see-through white shirts and lacy bras that drive him wild. Giggling with the audacity of someone who isn’t making him slowly lose his sanity. You with prettily lips painted white with his seed. Cum and saliva mixing into a lewd pool on the sterile tile as you suck the soul out of him. 

You. 

And then he’s cumming. 

A raw, drawled-out keen of your name and he’s spilling into his fist. Thick, hot spurts of cum that paint his palms white in a way he wishes he could do to you. And behind his closed eyes all he sees is you - you you you-

You, dragging out his orgasm so torturously, lips decorated with his seed, dribbling down to your lacy pink bra, gushing so lewdly down your ready throat. You with your eyes dazed, lips swollen and quirking up into a fucked-out smile as he does so well for you - cumming, all for you.

You, with your wide eyes and disgust on your face as you realize just what he’d been doing on this suspiciously long “bathroom break”.

Shit.

Body still twitching with the shockwaves of probably one of the Top 5 orgasms of his life, Choso all but collapses against the bathroom door, panting heavily, utterly spent. For a moment, he lies there, wondering if this is what heaven truly felt like.

But as the euphoria of his high ebbs away into nothing but mere tingles, a slight wave of nausea crashes over him. 

Sighing, Choso reaches for the paper towels, ready to clean up his mess. If only you were there to milk him dry then he wouldn’t have to-

…

God, he was definitely baking you apology cookies tomorrow. 

Now, when it started drizzling shortly after Choso left, you took it upon yourself to usher the kids back home and hand over his t-shirt personally like the good samaritan you are - out of the goodness of your heart, of course. 

Not for any reason whatsoever because you were hoping to get at least one more glimpse of those sinful nipple piercings up-close.

…

Okay, perhaps there was a slight ulterior motive involved. 

Either way, what you’d expected was for a flash of silver as you handed over his drenched t-shirt. Or maybe that familiar easy smile to warm you up from the icy water.

Literally anything but to find yourself frozen outside the bathroom door, cunt dripping, and ears ringing with the muffled echoes of his pornographic groans.

At first, completely mortified, your fight or flight instinct had kicked in as you realized just what those rhythmic, fucked-out little grunts meant. Only for you to choose neither option - staying rooted to your spot with the utterance of one, simple, word - your name.

Confusion whirls in your mind almost as much as the throbbing in your cunt, knees weakening. Heart thumping louder and louder in your ears at each whine of your name. Shivers running down your spine - all the way to your wet cunt as it really sets in that this was Choso. And he was fucking his fist in your bathroom. To you.

And you didn’t mind?

In fact, you find yourself leaning against the door, thighs squeezing together - mere inches away from where you imagined him slumped against it. Soft strands sticking to his forehead, cock hot and heavy, aching for release. Ragged breathing as if caught off guard by the intensity of his own pleasure. Broken whispers of your name leaving him over and over-

Really, you know you should give him your privacy. But if the white-hot ropes of pleasure running up your spine are anything to go by then, well, is it really that bad?

You have half the mind to just reach down down down - just a little release. Almost jealous of Choso-

Click!

You’re sure you could rival Usain Bolt with the way you ran down those stairs. Cheeks flaring, his damp t-shirt still clutched tightly in your hand. Mind racing with only one thought - this little fuck wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

---

You can barely remember what transpired after your little discovery. You couldn’t decide who looked more dazed - you or Yuji, who was being practically dragged out that front door as Choso exited hastily with vague mentions of baking and cookies

And in the ringing silence that followed after that front door slammed, you couldn’t help the smirk that found itself onto your face. This was going to be fun.

But if there’s anything you’ve learned about Choso - it’s that even after twenty-something years on planet Earth, that man can not take a hint.

You somewhat had an inkling after the fifth time you decided to sunbathe in just a skimpy bikini at exactly when you knew he’d be watching. Well, you might not have gotten any reaction other than an extremely flushed face at the window, but at least you knew he’d have more very fun bathroom breaks.

Hell, one time you even bought ice lollies for the whole house - but especially Choso. Making sure those dark eyes followed every lick and trail of it dripping down your fingers under the scorching summer sun. Ultimately resulting in nothing more but a heavy gulp and for his ice lolly to hit the grass faster than it could even begin to melt. 

Ugh, should you get your brother to start another water fight? That went down well last time. 

It’s only after another failed attempt at trying to get him alone and a few hours of deliberating whether you should ship your interrupting brother off on a cruise too that you realize you have to get out the big guns.

“The big guns” being stealthily organizing a sleepover for your brother at the Itadoris, then inviting Choso over for a movie night. Simple, right? And, well, if anyone asked, you could just say the movie just so happened to be rated R. 

It wasn’t too hard to convince your brother that a sleepover with Yuji would be the best thing since sliced bread. The excitement in his voice palpable as he agreed, not suspecting a thing.

You just didn’t think it would be even easier to convince Choso to come over with a simple playful text of “Netflix no chill. Haha jk…unless?” But then again, when has Choso not surprised you?

And that night, as your brother eagerly headed off to Yuji’s place, you couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of guilt - but, hey, it was for a good cause, right? 

It’s a win-win either way - your brother gets to spend the night with a friend and you get to be here, so achingly close to Choso on that couch. So close that you could feel the heat radiating off of him, stealing glances at his sharp profile as the conversation flows easily about the movie playing on screen.

Shifting ever-so-slightly closer, electricity crackling between you two was palpable. You smile in anticipation, after all - you weren’t lying about the movie being rated R.

Now, Choso certainly didn’t come over to your house tonight expecting a wholesome rerun of Cars 2. However, he also wasn’t expecting the blockbuster action movie to suddenly unfold into something so steamy.

Goddamn lecherous directors and their goddamn pervy movies.

Eyes firmly trained on the ground, instead of the actress currently fake-moaning dramatically onscreen, Choso tries to ignore the subtle shift of your hips or the way the temperature in the room has currently increased by about 10 degrees. Or the way your moans would sound a million times prettier in his ears.

Alas, Choso was not a strong man, and he especially tries to will away the blood rushing straight to his cock right now - but how could he? You were such a vision of temptation, so close and warm and close to him on the couch.

This was absolute torture. 

“God, this is so painfully fake. Don’t you think so?” your voice rips through the deafening silence between you two, tone careful and balanced, startling Choso out of his little reverie.

His eyes flicker hastily to meet yours, and for a moment, he seems caught off guard by your sudden interruption. “Oh, yeah.” voice rough with a hint of nervousness. “I’ve seen better performances in middle school plays.”

You nod, the tension between you thickening as you lock eyes. “I mean, who even writes this stuff?” you continue, leaning in even closer to Choso, words positively dripping in sarcasm. “It’s like they’ve never actually had sex before.”

Choso lets out a shaky laugh, the sound strained as he shifts subtly in his seat - but not subtly enough. Because you catch the way he desperately tries to adjust his now-uncomfortably tight pants. Success. 

“Yeah, exactly,” he clears his throat, ripping his gaze away from yours.

You study him for a moment under the dim lighting, noting the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap, the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he struggles to control his breathing. He was nervous. Nervous and horny - exactly where you wanted him. 

A sudden rush of adrenaline courses through your veins, and you lean even closer to the man. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two - you relish in his strangled gasp as your tits press so enticingly against his arm. 

“Choso, just a thought.” you hum casually, lips mere inches from his ear. “Wanna recreate the scene better?”

His breath hitches at your words, muscles rippling so deliciously beneath your touch. “Do you know what you’re saying?” he rumbles, lowly. Eyes darkened and unreadable.

You smile, heart pounding against your chest as your lips brush against his earlobe. “Absolutely.”

It was like something snapped.

Because then he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him. Because goddammit you haven’t spent the last month sneaking glances at those pretty lips for nothing.

Movie completely forgotten, Choso is warm under your touch - all sculpted chest and urgent pulses as his lips kiss you dizzyingly. Groaning lowly as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.

He breathes you in with an infectious desperation that bleeds into his hands, wandering every inch of your skin - as if he didn’t have enough time. And he probably didn’t. Distantly, Choso thinks that no time in the world would be enough to absolutely fucking wreck you the way he wanted to.

Large, hurried hands grope your chest, squeezing so teasingly in a way that almost made you think he was trying to feel out what bra you were wearing - lacy pink. His favorite, of course.

You minx.

Urgently tugging the hem of your tight shirt over your arms, Choso tosses it god-knows-where. Mouth watering as he pulls away to greedily take in the heavenly view of your heaving chest - the same one he’s shamelessly fucked his fist to for too long.

God, you were perfect. With a soft, little oh! Choso leans down to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses on every bit of exposed skin he could reach. Nipping, and tugging lightly. Relishing in the way you whine for his lips again.

Threading a hand through his soft hair, you lightly pull him back to you. Breath fanning his face, lips ghosting over his own.

“Kiss me, you fool.”

And, well, Choso didn’t have to be asked twice. Molding his mouth against yours once more. Letting your lips part, you intertwine your tongue so sinfully with his. He tastes just like he looks - so intoxicatingly delicious.

With a breathy sigh, he lightly taps the curve of your ass. Hands lingering for far longer than necessary, kneading the flesh in a way that has your skin searing. 

You get the signal. Urgently, you loop your legs around his waist. “Choso- bed.” you whisper, muffled in-between kisses. “Now.”

Shivers run down your spine at the way he chuckles darkly, “Honestly, sweetheart. I don’t even hah- know if we’ll make it there.” Mumbling against your lips, “Would you kill me if I take you right here right now?”

“I’ll kill you if you don’t fucking do something.” you hiss, words dripping in desperation. Ah, but Choso, ever the merciful man, shuts up whatever other retort on the tip of your tongue with his own. Kissing you with almost-bruising intensity as he gets up from his seat. Strong arms securely wrapped underneath you, holding you flush against his warm skin.

Choso doesn’t pull away even once as he hastily makes the route to your room. And honestly, with the speed at which your back hits the soft mattress, bouncing at the sheer force at which you two fell on top, you wouldn’t even be surprised if he teleported there.

Now safely in the confines of your room, you all but rip off Choso’s snug t-shirt. Those familiar obscene nipple piercings winking at you under the dim lighting in greeting. 

“Always wanted to do this.” you murmur, surging forward as if on autopilot. Lips latching delicately onto the pretty pink nipples, tasting the cold metal on your tongue. 

“Oh- oh, fuck. A-always knew you had a thing hah- f’my piercings, sweetheart.” Choso breathes out, letting you have your fun. His favorite bra now at the foot of your bed. Fingers deftly sneaking under your skirt, blood rushes straight to his cock as he feels the positively soaked state of your panties - if you could even call them that. 

Sanity snapping, he immediately flings off your skirt. Throwing it somewhere across the room with no care or concern for where it ends up. All so he could look down at oh-

Oh god, if you had to describe Choso’s face as he takes in the sight before him - it would be absolutely losing his sanity. Your pussy dripping and clenching around nothing - all for him.

Strings of slick trail down your thighs as Choso hooks one, long finger under your slutty g-string, tugging impatiently.

You keen as the cold air hits your dripping cunt. Yet Choso’s eyes stay locked hungrily on the sticky fabric intertwined around his fingers “Guess you were expecting this, huh?” he murmurs, voice thick with desire. 

Scoffing, you buck your hips up for something - anything. “I’ve been wanting to fuck you since that first night I hit on you, y’know,” you admit, the heady air of your room melting away any reservations you had previously. 

And that seems to snap Choso out of his trance - eyes flickering over to you, darkened with something so carnal that it makes your cunt throb. “Oh yeah?” he mumbles, swiftly stuffing the g-string in his pocket before leaning down, hot breath hitting your ear. “Now, what was that pick-up line you were gonna say that night?” 

You gasp in embarrassment, heat flooding to your cheeks at the memory. “Wha- that doesn’t matter. I was drunk and-”

Smack!

The delicious sting on your ass hits you before the realization that Choso smacked you. He smacked you. Even later do you realize that you like it - slick beading so obscenely at your sloppy hole.

“What was it, sweetheart?”

You shudder at the tone that leaves no room for argument. The words tumbling out of you as Choso caresses soothingly over the handprint on your ass. “I- it’s stupid. I was gonna say that I’m down to sit on your face, baby.”

“Thought so,” he grins, pulling away from the dizzying proximity. Shifting - well, more like manhandling - you to flip positions. 

God, you could almost sink into his muscles as he lays back on your bed. Voice low and dangerous as he utters words that go straight to your dripping pussy, “Now, sit on m’face.”

And before you know it, you find yourself hastily straddling Choso’s pretty face. Hands snaking down his milky abs, lips kissing along his tattoos, catching purposefully on his sensitive nipples. 

Warm breath fanning your quivering cunt, he reaches up to cup your ass, nudging your needy core to his mouth. Kneading. Groping. 

Not stopping his ministrations even when your slick oozes slowly, torturously through your swollen folds and onto his awaiting tongue. A maddening drip! drip! drip! ringing in your ears above your thundering heartbeat.

Choso groans at the mouthwatering sight above him. You - spread so shamefully open for him and clenching around nothing. 

“Luckily for you, sweetheart, wanted you to sit on m’face ever since I saw you.” sweet juices flowing down his throat, words muffled against your throbbing lips. 

He barely even gets the words out before he’s surging forward. Licking a long, languid stripe up your heated folds. Again. And again. Faster at the pretty moans that spill from your lips.

Pushing his tongue in between your slit, past that first, tight ring of muscle. Bullying it deeper and deeper. Chin pressing against your throbbing clit, ravaged at each movement of his face. 

He caresses your warm walls, relishing so filthily at the way you clamp down on him in surprise. “Hngh- oh shit, baby. Ah-”

Your sweet moans are music in his ears and shit - you called him “baby”. It’s as if every wet dream he’s ever had has come to life as Choso dips in and out at a ruthless pace. Pulling out to tease your dripping entrance, pushing past mercilessly into your plushy walls. In and out in and out in and out-

His cock strains so painfully against his pants at the way your sloppy hole sucks his tongue in so obscenely - almost as if it hurts to part. Tongue fucking you the way he wishes he could with his cock right now.

“Oh- Hah- Choso! Fuck, baby. S’good.” your body arches into his absolutely depraved tongue. 

Desperate whines spilling incessantly from your mouth at the way he quirks his tongue up just right to graze that spot he knew would have you grinding down on him for more. “Ah! Right there - jus’ like that!”

As if he knew exactly how to drive you wild. Exactly how to break you. You almost don’t notice the mindless, shallow little thrusts of his hips into your open palm. Almost.

Eyes snapping open at the tremors, you reach a hand across his quivering thighs. All the way down towards the very obvious dark patch on his pants - right where his furiously hard tip was leaking thick, relentless precum that made your mouth water. 

Oh, how you’d kill to taste him - see if the rest of him is as intoxicating as his mouth is.

So you do. 

Choso was so pussy-drunk in-between your thighs that you think he barely notices the way you fumble with his belt. Shakily pulling those pants down just enough to glimpse the rock-hard erection that those boxers do nothing to hide. 

“Shit,” you whisper, voice strained with need. 

You always imagined Choso had a big cock - but this was ridiculous. Your pussy clenches in both nervousness and anticipation as you imagined the delicious stretch of him splitting you apart on it. Breaking you. 

And that’s probably when Choso notices - you clamping down so filthily on his tongue. 

“Oh?” he rasps, voice sending white-hot vibrations of pleasure right up your spine. “Didn’t think you were so desperate for my cock, sweetheart. Gon’ make me cum, hm?”

Now, you’ve always thought of yourself as a woman of action rather than empty words. Which is probably why you urgently pull down his boxers. Choso’s painfully hard erection springs out, hitting his lower abs. 

You take a moment to admire the long, heavy cock in your hands - a deliciously pretty pink on top, furiously leaking glistening precum. Saliva pooling in your mouth - you shove it as far down your throat as you possibly could.��

Oh, how many times in his life has Choso imagined this moment right here. In the shower, right before bed, right after waking up too. You’re really a dream come to life. 

A startled, strangled moan of your name leaves Choso’s kiss-bitten lips as you take him all in one go. Only to pull back and spit once- twice on his throbbing cock. The steady stream of spit cool - followed so maddeningly by the warm heat of your mouth once more. You start up a torturous, filthy pace bobbing your head up and down on his cock.

He strains his head to catch a glimpse - even just one - of your nose pressed against his pelvis. Breathing in the heady scent at the tufts of hair at the bottom, already wet with precum and spit. His dirty girl. 

Popping off with a lewd squelch, “Feels good, baby?”

“Feels perfect.”

But he wasn’t gonna fall far behind.

Immediately attaching his lips with yours once more, Choso dives nose-deep in your dripping cunt. Rolling your throbbing clit in between his lips. Flicking his tongue along the sensitive bud in a way that makes your head feel so light. He alternates between a slow, languid torture on your clit and fucking into you unforgivingly.

Your movements stutter as you teasingly lick at his sensitive slit. The salty flavor of his precum is probably your favorite taste now. That bastard.

Reaching down, you cup his heavy balls, massaging the tender flesh in harsh, hasty circles that match your mouth down his length - up and down up and down up and-

Muffled moans and lewd squelching filling the heated room. A rhythmic, sinful cadence that both of you were losing your sanity to. Movements more frantic now. Desperate to make the other cum. Desperate to be first.

Letting out soft, raw grunts, Choso fucks up his throbbing erection into your mouth. Your eyes water as his tip abuses the back of your throat. And it makes you wish you could see how messy he looked right now. All smudged eyeliner and slick-glossed lips. 

Gagging around him, a mixture of drool and precum drips sinfully down the corner of your mouth as you increase your pace, pooling messily on his lower abs. Sloppy - so sloppy.

So it only made sense that your orgasms were the same. 

Pleasure dizzyingly overwhelming, you gush around Choso’s mouth with a stifled squeal. Stars behind your eyes, vision blurring, mind blanking - the only things you register being the languid tongue lapping up at your sweet juices and the guttural groan of what sounds like your name as Choso shoots thick, hot spurts of his cum down your throat. 

Throat burning as the salty taste fills your senses, you milk his cock for more more more- his dick pulsing and stuttering in your mouth. Cum staining the fresh sheets below - a problem for later. 

Right now all you were focused on was riding out your high, grinding almost animalistically on Choso’s pretty face. 

You’ve barely removed yourself from him with a lewd pop! before Choso’s wrestling you back onto the mattress. Two fingers squishing your cheeks into an embarrassing pout, cold rings digging into your skin. The other hand snaking in between your thighs to play with your still-twitching cunt. 

“Didn’t say we were done yet, sweetheart.” he mutters. You weren’t done - no, far from it. Because fuck a refractory period - both of you were going to take all you could get.

And before you can think of anything else, Choso is leaning down, hand prying your lips apart for him into a brutal kiss. Teeth clashing, lips bruising. He forces his tongue down your throat. Tasting himself before you barely get a chance to taste him as well. 

“Hah- fuck-” you flinch as he swears into your bruised lips. “So fuckin’ sweet. You taste so good sweetheart.” The sheer debauchery and ache of his cock too much for him. 

Tasting him. Tasting you. Both a heady flavor that leaves you yearning for more. 

You bite down on his bottom lip in retaliation, relishing in the drawn-out groan that rumbles into your mouth at this. The kiss is feral. It’s animalistic. It leaves you feeling so fucking dirty. 

And you barely recognise the dazed, predatory glint in Choso’s eyes as he pulls away, his mind clearly miles away as he spits once. Twice. Three times on your face.

The wads of saliva and cum hit your face with a warm, wet jolt. You whine at the way it seeps into your skin, dripping down your cheeks so fucking obscenely. Pooling at the sheets below in a way that makes you feel sorry for whoever had a shift at the laundromat tomorrow.

“Now, what do we say, sweetheart?”

A fucked-out, delirious smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you realize - yeah, you wouldn’t have it any other way. “Thank you.”

Not even when Choso lets out a dark chuckle, throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders and manhandling you so that you’re splayed out so shamefully for him. Dripping cunt spread for his greedy gaze and clenching around nothing - aching for him. Begging for him.

Not even when he lines up his still-rock hard cock at your entrance, tip - angry and red - weeping so desperately as he nudges at your sloppy hole. Dragging his head along your folds collecting every bead of slick, just grazing your pulsing clit. Every muscle in your body trembling and anticipating what was to come.

You mewl at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, boderling insane, and exactly what you wanted right now. Splitting you apart on his throbbing cock. 

And especially not when he bottoms out inside you in one, harsh thrust. Burying himself inside your sloppy walls till his twitching balls smack against your ass. 

“Ah- hngh- oh fuckkk.” you keen in both pain and pleasure - broken, raw moans leaving you uncontrollably. But not for long, because suddenly Choso’s shoving two ringed fingers in your mouth, bullying their way inside till you’re gagging and moaning around them. 

Pressing right at that spot on the back of your tongue that makes your eyes tear up so prettily. Hey, if he couldn’t see you choking on his cock properly, the least he could do is see you choking on his fingers, right?

“Now now, wouldn’t want anyone else to hear, hm? Our brother’s would get worried.” he chuckles. Pure, dark amusement in his eyes as he takes in your swollen lips, the teartracks down your cheeks, how utterly beautiful and debauched you look underneath him. So much better than any lust-hazed imagination of his.

And yet, even when you’re being gagged and split apart on his cock, you find it in yourself to be mouthy. Words muffled around his thick fingers as you raise a brow. “There’s no one else home, though?.”

The corners of Choso’s lips lift into a devilish grin, “The neighbors, sweetheart.”

His tone is teasing, but there’s an undercurrent of seriousness that sends a chill down your spine. He’s just joking, right? Right?

“Wha-”

And probably because he was losing his patience - and partly to shut you up - Choso begins to move.

Pushing past the resistance, beginning to fuck into you in shallow, uncontrollable movements of his hips. Just little motions to get him off, groaning at how sinfully tight you were - the way you were sucking him up so good.

Next time, Choso thinks, reaching down a hand to draw tight, little circles on your poor, abused clit - next time he’ll fuck you right. Hours upon hours of teasing you so you don’t know what it feels like when you’re empty without him. 

But fuck does he think he could just about pass out right now.

There’s no going back now. Choso fucks you in a way that makes you feel so deliciously filthy. Plunging into your heated cunt with no restraint. Thrusts positively savage.

Pulling all the way back so that his leaking tip just barely kisses your sloppy entrance, slamming down down down, Choso fucks you at a merciless pace. Relishing the delicious stretch of your cunt as he thrusts into you with a desperation that surpasses the need for reason. 

“Sh-shit, sweetheart. God, s’tight. better than I ever could’ve imagined.” he moans breathlessly, brows furrowing, eyes rolling to the back of his head, the feeling of you milking the absolute soul out of him just too much.

“Oh, yeah- wanted this for so long-”

You yelp every time he rams his cock into you, the smacking of his toned pelvis against your thighs stinging almost as deliciously as his tip kissing your cervix. The obscene slapping of skin on skin makes your cheeks burn - both pairs as his heavy balls smack against your ass each time he shoves his throbbing cock into you.

And because you can’t leave him alone, of course, you find your nails digging harshly into his muscled shoulders. 

Pulling him impossibly closer. You want more. You need more. 

Maybe you say those words out loud - you don’t even know anymore, too delirious and cock-drunk from Choso and your last orgasm and Choso - because his eyes widen ever-so-slightly, mouth falling open into a small oh. Your cunt twitches at the surprised, fucked-out little laugh that leaves him,  “More? My sweetheart wants more?”

And, as you’ve come to learn with Choso - anything you want, you will get. 

“Then fucking- take it.” he grunts lowly, each word punctuated by a harsh thrust of into your plush walls that sends both of you spiraling deeper and deeper into insanity.

And God does he make you take it. Every inch of him fills you, stretching you beyond your limits - both your cunt and your senses as he leans down to bury his head into your neck, hips moving so sloppily, hiking your leg further up his shoulder. The change in angle making you see stars.

Your hips buck up in tandem with his, uncontrollable little ah! ah! ah! leaving you at each thrust. You whimper in pleasure and overstimulation into the heady room, “Yes. Yes yes yes- wan’ cum. Need more. Need you-”

“Fuck- Hngh-” is all he manages to gasp out, pleasure overwhelming his sensitive cock. Choso’s balls twitch almost painfully as they keep smacking your ass. Brain still not keeping up with his body because shit, this is all he’s wanted for years, the least he could do is make you cum before him.

“Sh-shit, sweetheart.” he rasps into your heated skin, “So close- m’ so close.”

You all but sob at his words, “M’too- hngh- ah, m’gonna cum, baby.”

You didn’t expect the petname to be what breaks him, but then again you didn’t think there was anything more left to break. Because Choso groans gutturally, cock twitching inside you “Shit, you’re driving m’crazy, y’know that?”

“I know.” you mewl, voice breaking at the way he increases his frenzied pace on your clit. You could barely even call them circles, just filthy little movements to get you closer and closer to the edge. So close. You writhe beneath him, desperate for release.

And what you didn’t expect was for Choso to connect his sweaty forehead with yours. You take a second to admire just how beautiful he is - all smudged eyeliner, tousled hair, your release still shining on the lower half of his face, and yours. All yours. You could probably stare at the sight forever.

Choso’s hot breath fans your face as he moans breathlessly against your lips, words slurring together as he ruts into you mindlessly, “Always did, y’know?”

“I know.”

“No- y’don’t hah- understand, I- for so long fuck- I-”

“Choso, just kiss me.”

And then you’re kissing him. And he’s kissing you like you’re the most precious thing on Earth. A slow, tender little dance that doesn’t match the way he rams his cock inside you. 

And then you’re cumming. Stars behind your eyes - or maybe those were tears - clamping down desperately on the harsh, jerky movements of his glistening cock that fuck you so sinfully like his little slut. 

White-hot pleasure runs down your spine, or maybe that was Choso - painting your insides the prettiest white you’ve ever seen. Shooting thick, hot ropes of his seed into your waiting pussy. A creamy ring forming around his base as he spills his cum into your snug cunt as he moans against your lips.

It’s messy. It’s sloppy. And as Choso fills you to the brim, hips still unforgiving, seed dribbling out of your dripping pussy at the way it was so overfilled - you think that it’s all you could ever want. 

As his cock twitches finally, exhaustedly - and you distantly wonder how the fuck it isn’t seizing up - Choso collapses onto you, thoroughly fucked-out. Finally pulling out with an obscene squelch, you hiss lowly at the pool of cum that forms beneath you. Gushing out of you sinfully. 

A weighty silence in the air as you both try to catch your breaths.

In the haze of your orgasm you realize that even after all that transpired, he still isn’t laying his full bodyweight on you.

Too afraid to break you.

To break whatever this tender little understanding in the air was.

And it makes some part of your heart clench so delightfully. Subconsciously, you thread a hand through his damp hair, breathing in that familiar smell of vanilla and sunshine - and the heady scent of something so Choso. It makes you intertwine your body so impossibly close with his, not knowing where one of you ends and the other starts.

“My parents are coming home tomorrow.” you start, casually. 

“Mhm. But I’ll still be around here, sweetheart.” Choso rumbles into the crook of your neck. Kissing soothingly over the marks he’d made in the heat of the moment - some carnal little part of him proud of the way you looked like you were fucking thrown to a pack of wolves. 

Words hiding a tense little fear beneath them as you probe further. Something prickly and scared rolling around in your stomach. “For babysitting?”

“Nope.”

Settling deeper into the covers, basking in the afterglow of him. You know you should get up and clean, but right now this was all you wanted. And maybe no other words were needed. 

“God, am I glad your parents aren’t home.” 

Except maybe those. 

You chuckle as you pull back to stare into those deep, dark eyes. Cheeks flaring at the tender little warmth in them much more than they had when he was fucking you so sinfully. A devious idea coming to mind - because now that you got a taste, you were absolutely hooked.

Choso Kamo was absolutely intoxicating.

“Well, we still have time so how about-”

A distant click!

“Honey, we’re home~!”

Shit.

A/N. Fun fact this was originally supposed to be called Timeout! but it was giving too much me during beep test.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[sttoru]

outlaw!toji who initially kidnapped you for money, to rob you from your valuable belongings, eventually forms a strange attachment to you. he can’t help but feel a faint twinge of guilt for robbing a pretty and delicate little thing like you.

so, he decides to let you return to your beloved family in town. though he does not let you go completely.

every now and then when toji is passing by the town you reside in - avoiding sheriffs and other people whom could possibly recognise him from the wanted posters plastered on every wall - he looks for you.

of course, you freak out the first time he sneaked up on you. however slowly yet surely, you let your guard down. the outlaw didn’t harm you in any way after all.

“how ‘re ya doin’, princess?” toji would always greet you with that signature, cocky smirk of his, leaning against a nearby wall with his arms crossed over his chiseled chest or his hands on his worn gun belt.

sometimes you reply quickly, but on other occasions you indulge him and continue the conversation. it’s often at night that he visits you, so you have less of a chance to get caught together.

you don’t know when or how toji found out where your family’s house is. he simply started showing up at your balcony once in a while, just to catch up. after a couple times, you even let him in.

those nightly visits swiftly turned into something more intimate. it feels so wrong yet so right. a dangerous criminal who’s killed hundreds, who had even kidnapped you one day, being invited into your bed— how scandalous.

though you can’t help it. his callused yet warm hands that touch your skin, his burly body that presses you into the mattress just right, his slightly chapped lips that nip at your flesh and leave marks. . . you don’t regret a thing.

especially when you’re both catching your breath after an intense encounter. toji’s muscular body, filled with countless of scars, blankets yours easily. his arms cradle you to his bare chest afterwards and all you can do is relax against him.

“i think i really hit the jackpot with ya, aye? may not have robbed ya of yer stuff that day, but i got ma prize money one way or ‘nother,” the rugged outlaw grins as he lights up a cigar and holds it between his lips.

you can’t even tell him off for smoking in your room. toji’s fingers massage your scalp so good to the point you’re putty in his hands. the scent of tobacco is also comforting. it’s one you associate with him, because he always smells like it. it’s always a combination of tobacco, nature, horses and gunpowder.

toji knows that he has to leave before anyone comes checking in on you, but he can’t leave you when you look so adorable, clinging onto him like a lifeline.

every time he visits, it’s the same exciting story.

when toji is in a more sentimental mood, he takes you out on a ride. he settles you on the back of his horse, speeding off into the sunset, letting you enjoy the view outside of town.

the beautiful freedom that comes with the life of an outlaw. the freedom of seeing nature in all its glory. you get to experience it all.

at times, when you’re out and about, he takes his chance and teaches you how to handle a gun. toji knows you’ve been spoiled rotten by your parents growing up, so you probably haven’t touched a gun a day in your life. that’s where he comes in.

“oi, watch out. yer gonna blow my fuckin’ face off, girl,” toji grunts with a faint chuckle as he notices your clumsy hand gestures while holding his revolver. it’s endearing, truly. he doesn’t yet understand why it warms his heart to see you try and shoot at the targets he set up.

what the outlaw loves more than that, is when you’re both resting against a large oak tree, with his head on your lap. especially after he gets back from a long and successful heist in a far away town.

toji often lets his cowboy hat cover his face while he naps and uses your thighs as the perfect, plush pillow. the gentle breeze only adds to the perfect moment.

when you take his stetson and put it on your head instead in a innocent gesture, he lazily opens one eye and raises a brow in amusement.

“oh? that yer way of telling me y’ want a ride?” toji teases before pinching your cheek. he loves seeing that flustered expression on your face when you’re once again reminded of the cowboy hat rule he taught you the other day.

toji never misses the opportunity, however. he sits up and leans back against the tree trunk, patting his thick thighs which he spreads lightly.

“hop on f’ me then, pretty. show me how good of a cowgirl y’ are, yeah?”

well, briefly said, it’s never a dull moment with outlaw!toji.