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lilgarbitch · 2 days ago

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Running in Circles - Eight

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Reader

CW: Depression, FP (favorite person) thoughts, past addiction, mentions of losing a loved one (I think that’s all but please let me know if I missed anything)

Word Count: 10.3k

Author’s Note: I had most of his written and ready to go before I took a break from posting. I went back and forth for a long time, debating if I wanted to keep her backstory like this, but I want a complex MC. I want to bring awareness to topics like these and I want people to see inside the mind of those who struggle with things like this. (Also very sorry I keep changing the names of characters. Y/N’s ex is now Chris, because I hated the name Ronnie.) (Also I’m working on editing the pictures and shit for the past chapters so sorry that things look different)

Tags: @theanarchymuse95 @dontwantthemoney @chey-h @badomensgoodomens @bloody-spades @blade-dressed-in-red @xmads-omensx @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @thatchickwiththecamera @tosoundlessdarkistare @lacy1986 @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @death-ofpeace-ofmind @heyyoplayer

Part Seven

Y/N

“Guys, stop, you’re gonna break it!” I laughed out, yelling at Cal and Damien, who were messing around with the control board in the studio.

The boys ended up coming over to Dave’s house, and after about twenty minutes of them freaking out about meeting Dave and all of Lorna Shore, followed by walking through the house in complete awe, they became quickly acquainted… a little too quickly.

The group’s personalities were a little too alike, and now I was back to babysitting multiple grown men. I had to ask Dave to follow my idiots to make sure they didn’t break anything of his, but he just laughed me off, even though I was completely serious.

Now, my boys, Dave, Will, Moke, and I were all hanging out in the studio as the rest of the guys did who knows what. I’m afraid I’m ever going to leave this room. My boys got a little too excited seeing how professional everything was, and Dave, enthusiastic at the thought of showing more people his things, told them to have fun. Which wasn’t the best idea, seeing that they were now touching absolutely anything they could get their hands on, and I could feel my blood pressure rising.

Will and I just sat back and watched as Cal, Finn, and Damien treated the room like a zoo, and Dave and Moke explained what everything did. I couldn’t have been more stressed out, knowing how they treat their own instruments, but Will did his best to keep me calm, saying that if they did do something they weren’t supposed to, Dave would let them know. And I was realizing just how little our band knew about things like this. When we produced our music, we ran shitty software on Cal’s PC after recording in a “studio” at the local music shop, thanks to Damien knowing a guy who worked there and was willing to hook us up. While we were technically under a label with our “manager” coming from them, it wasn’t a big one that helped us with any production or promotion. We did that all ourselves. And it was also now hitting me that the only reason why we were even able to join such a large tour was because Noah probably begged his band and management to set it up.

“Y/N, why don’t you check more things out? I’ve only seen you in the booth,” Moke shouted towards me in the midst of the chaos, pulling me out of my overwhelming thoughts, “Do you play any instruments? Or only vocals?”

“Oh, she plays a mean guitar,” Damien answered for me, making me shake my head.

“I do not. I’m so bad at it, which is why I only sing on stage. But I used to play the piano,” I answered. Dave walked past me to his wall of guitars.

“Well, I don’t have a piano…yet. But why don’t you show us what you can play?” He said as he grabbed a guitar off the shelf and walked it over to me. I eyed the guitar, then him, then at the rest of the guys staring at me.

“Why am I the one who’s always put on the spot?” I semi-joked as I took the guitar from him, staring at him apprehensively.

I stared down at the guitar in my hands. I didn’t want the boys knowing that I actually really enjoyed guitars, knowing how the whole vocals thing went earlier in the tour, but I couldn’t help but admire the Taylor 814ce. One that was handed to me like it wasn’t a dream to touch, let alone play.

I was never confident in my guitar playing, especially around Finn and Calum, who could pick up any song you throw at them and perfect it in a week, and how they always helped me if I needed someone to play a few chords to help me with getting a song worked out in my head, so I never really felt like I was one to admire such a beauty if I wasn’t the most informed in the group. But this was a beauty.

After a few moments of taking in the amazing condition Dave kept his instruments in, I finally turned back to the boys.

“So uh…what do I play?” I ask sheepishly. I don’t even know if I remember any of the songs I learned all those years ago, and being put on the spot really wasn’t helping me think.

“What’s that one song you always used to play in highschool? I remember when I showed you my first Fender, you started playing that one song…uhhh ‘You’re only six feet tall’ or something like that?” Finn suggested, making me chuckle.

“That’s an easy song, definitely not one I’d choose to show off my talent if I had any,” I reply with a smirk.

“Still, I haven’t heard you play or even sing that song in too long. Give it a go. Please?” I looked at him for a moment before rolling my eyes and getting the guitar in position.

It had been years since I played ‘On the Brightside’, but it’s just repeating chords, so stare down at the strings and try to wrack my brain of which chords those were.

I begin strumming what I thought might be them, but it still sounded off. My hand instantly went to the pegs, before pausing and looking up at Dave, silently asking permission to butcher the tuning of his gorgeous guitar for a single song, but he surprisingly nodded.

As I start tuning the E string, finally hearing some familiarity in an E flat, it all starts coming back to me. I eventually tune every string to a flat, and start strumming a few chords, making sure that I actually remember them correctly. Once I got the hang of it, I began.

I met a man of two feet tall

This man was quite ambitious

In a world that is so vicious to us all

I said, “Hi,” as he replied

He said, “Listen to these words that I have lived by my whole life”

”You’re only as tall as your heart will let you be

And you’re only as small as the world will make you seem

When the going gets rough and you feel like you may fall

Just look on the brightside, you’re roughly six feet tall”

I couldn’t hit Christofer Drew’s high notes, but I continue strumming and bringing this song back into my heart. Not that I normally can forget songs, but this one will forever be ingrained into my brain. I’ve lived by these words since the day I first heard this song, and it was one of the first ones I ever tried learning on guitar when I was young. It has been quite some time since I’ve played it, but now that I'm doing it again, it’s going to be a while before I forget it.

I am a man of six feet tall

Just looking for some answers

In a world that answers none of them at all

I’ll say, “Hi,’ but not reply

To the letters that you write

Because I’ve found some piece of mind

Cause I’m only as tall as my heart will let me be

And I’m only as small as the world will make me seem

And when the going gets rough and I feel like I may fall

I’ll look on the brightside, I’m roughly six feet tall

I softly hold out the last note and let the chord ring out for a few moments before pressing my hand down and stopping it, looking up at everyone. Moke, Dave and Damien clap with an impressed look on their faces, Damien’s being a little smug, as Finn and Cal give me a pleased smile, seemingly happy to hear me play again.

“Damn, dude, is there anything you can’t do?” Will asked with a laugh beside me, making me chuckle.

“It’s a seven chord song. Damien could probably learn it,” I tease, causing an offended “Hey!” from Damien. Will pats my shoulder with a smile.

“I’m serious. While you’d definitely need lessons to do anything near Adam, Andrew or Finn’s level, I’m convinced there’s nothing you can’t easily learn.”

“Oh, there’s a lot I can’t learn,” I said with an eye roll. One thing being how to stop messing shit up in my life, but I don’t say that out loud.

The boys go back to chatting together, occasionally mentioning how we should find a studio as nice as this to practice in New York, but I stay out of the conversation. I do my best to retune Dave’s guitar before sliding it back on its stand, not wanting to feel like I messed with it too much.

As I make my way back to my seat, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I slip it out and unlock it as I sit back down.

Matty- Hey, sorry I missed your texts. The guys and I have been spending time with Noah. I don’t want to get into it too much over text, but he seems to be regretting that party. A lot.

Matty- Sucks I couldn’t have met Will and hung out with everyone, but since we’re home and have some sense of normalcy back after about a month, we were hoping that might help him out a little bit.

I stare at Matt’s texts for a few moments, trying to understand. He regrets it? I’m assuming he means sleeping with that girl, since I haven’t heard about him doing anything else stupid, but is he really regretting it that badly?

Yeah, it upset me and threw me back into a bit of a rut, but those are easily triggered when my feelings get hurt. And I already knew that trying anything with Noah would put my feelings on the line, especially going so many years thinking of him rather than getting out there and moving on from him or my ex.

I sigh and think for a moment. I don’t know if Noah found out anything about Will and me yet, but I don’t want him regretting doing something we both did. Not that I can truly justify our actions, seeing as we both made bad decisions, but it’s not like it ruined everything between us, especially since this sounds like he regrets it because he wants to work on us, not because he had a one night stand. Hopefully.

But if he regrets it, that might mean he hasn’t heard anything yet about Will and me. Will that crush him? I keep ruminating in the thoughts until I’m pulled out by a hand touching my shoulder. I glance over and see Will, looking at me a little concerned.

“Everything alright?” he asks with a quiet voice, not wanting to bring attention to me just in case. I do my best to give him a small smile and nod.

“Yeah, there’s just something I have to do,” I reply softly, patting his hand before standing up.

I make my way out into the hallway outside the studio, trying not to look upset so no one questions me, and pull up my contacts on my phone.

I type in his name and click on it, bringing it up to my ear as it starts ringing. I glance around the hallway, not really wanting anyone getting any juicy gossip from the call and spreading anything, especially since Will’s whole band doesn’t fully understand what’s happening between the two of us.

After it seemed like he wasn’t going to pick up, I finally hear Ruffilo’s voice on the other line.

“Hello?” He answers, seemingly confused on why I called.

“Hey”

“Hey..uh…Is everything good?” It sounded like he almost said my name, probably refraining if he was around Noah.

“Yeah. Well..kinda. Matt told me why he was busy today and I just… I have a few questions and you’re the one who will have the most answers.”

“Hold on,” I hear shuffling on the other line, probably him getting further from the guys so they don’t hear him talking about Noah, “Alright. What’s up?”

“I really don’t know how to ease into it, but does Noah know about Will and me?”

“I mean, pretty sure he has assumptions. No one’s been confirming or denying anything, worried it’ll upset him more,” he answers with a sigh.

“Okay. I just didn’t want it to hurt him more if the information surprised him later. Another thing. I obviously don’t exactly know why he’s regretting the party, and I’m not sure how to get this information to him, but could he know that I’m not upset?”

“You’re not?”

“I mean, I really have no right to be. We both made bad decisions in the last week. Hell, we both made bad decisions since that night in the bar, but I don’t want it hurting him. What happened between us from the beginning was a little insane, and truthfully, I don’t think there’s a right way for either of us to have dealt with it, so I want him to know that I’m not upset with the decision he made. I do think it was dumb, mainly because it seemed like it was out of self destruction, but so was mine, so it’d be pretty hypocritical.”

I hear him sigh on the other end, making me bite my lip as more stress seemed to fill me.

“Listen, I’m really sorry to be putting you in the middle of this. I would tell Matt, but I don’t exactly know Noah’s feelings about him right now. And I know, that out of any of the boys, you have his best interests in mind, so-“

”Y/N, it’s okay,” he says, cutting me off on my tangent, “I’m just thinking of the best way to bring it up. But I’ll tell him. Not only do I want to see him back to his old self, I really want you two to make up. Especially with how happy he was when he knew we’d be touring together. So don’t worry, I’ll do my job and hopefully we can finally hang out as a group again soon.”

”Thank you, Nick. I really hope him and I can clear the air soon and be able to be around each other again without any tension. I miss hanging out with you four.”

”And we miss you. Alright, I’ll go sit him down and talk to him and let you know how it goes. But I gotta get out there soon before they come looking for me.”

”Bye, Nick.” I say with a small laugh.

“Bye, Y/N” And then the line goes dead.

I let out a sigh and stare up at the ceiling, praying to whoever the hell is listening that I can fix all of this the best I can.

Noah

I walk around the corner into the kitchen, needing to get a drink, when I hear Ruffilo’s voice. I don’t hear another, so he must be on the phone. I don’t mean to eavesdrop, but as I made my way to the fridge, he was in perfect distance for my snooping ears.

“We miss you...and talk to him...Bye, Y/N” I manage to pick up, with my ears instantly catching her name at the end.

Why was he talking to Y/N in secret? Miss her? Talk to who? Me? I stood there with a confused look on my face until he came back through the hall, stopping once he saw me. He opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it, seemingly not knowing what to say.

“Was that Y/N?” I ask, trying to keep any tension out of my tone.

”Uh.. yeah.” He finally said. I stood there, staring at him, waiting for him to continue. It was obvious that I had questions, so I assumed he’d try to explain, but instead looks at me like he got caught doing something he shouldn’t.

”Okay…” I start off, “And I guess I wasn’t supposed to hear that then?”

“What? Oh. Yeah, no, she uh… she called me. She told me to tell you that she isn’t mad at you,” he spits out at the end. I look at him even more confused.

“Dude, what? Mad about what? Because if she wasn’t mad about everything happening the first week of tour, she would’ve talked to me by now…right?” I ask. He sighs and walks closer, coming and leaning on the island of the kitchen with a weird look on his face.

”She kind of spilled it on me, and I was hoping I’d have a little more time to think of a less awkward way to tell you, but that was her telling me to tell you that she isn’t mad about Halloween. I’m assuming that also means she isn’t upset about the whole fight you had either.”

His words play in my head as I take them in, trying to make sense with the situation. And then they actually set in.

“Fuck! She knew about Halloween?!” I start pacing. “No fucking wonder she went radio silent with everyone and then pops out with Will two fucking days later.”

”Oh, so you do know about her and Will?” He asks. I nod, because of fucking course I knew about them. Even with her apology-cover-video, it was obvious that her and Will were a thing now.

“Apparently she heard that you weren’t taking everything well, and since she didn’t exactly think she could just call you, she wanted me to tell you that she wasn’t upset. She specifically said about Halloween, but she also mentioned wanting to work on the tension between you two, so I’m taking that as her not upset about the argument either,” he adds.

I mirror him, leaning onto the island as I process everything. So she wasn’t upset anymore? Is it just because she already moved on and figured there's no reason for bad blood anymore?

“She’s with Will now, isn’t she?” I ask, trying to understand the situation we were in.

“I mean, yeah, Calum, Finn, and Damien headed over to hang with the whole band earlier today, so I’m pretty sure,” he answered. I just nodded.

Things were finally starting to click. She was having a lot more fun with Will, so it was obvious if she wanted to try to make things work with him instead. And she still wants to be friends, which I’m willing to work with. It’s going to suck, but that’s the headspace I was in before her and I finally talked. As long as it means she’s in my life, I can work with this.

“Okay,” I finally say.

“Okay?” Ruffilo asks.

“That’s good to hear. I don’t want her mad at me. I’ve been wanting to apologize, so I’m glad it seems like she’s finally wanting to talk to me again.” He gives me a slightly confused look before relaxing and nodding.

”Yeah. I’m not sure if we’ll see her anytime before we get to our next show, but I’m glad tour will run a little smoother now that you two can work on making up.” I do my best to give him a small smile and nod, already thinking of the next time I get to talk to her again.

Y/N

After saying goodbye to everyone, the boys and I made our way to the car they borrowed from one of the guys, Will included. Listen, making a new friend, especially one you can only hang out with for the next day and a half, means you’re going to want to spend as much time with him as possible. So the boys are going to drop the two of us off at my hotel, since I’ve been spending way too much money on a room I feel like I’ve barely used, and I’m going to use this last day as my actual day of relaxation since my plans went to shit the second the Halloween party happened.

We all pack into the minivan, the boys still riding the high of hanging out with another large band and learning so many new things from them and Dave, and we take off.

“We really need to talk more about what’s coming next with our band,” Cal randomly threw in, “With Y/N finally accepting to do heavier vocals, I really think we could transform our sound in other ways.”

”What do you mean?” I ask. He turns around in the passenger seat to face the rest of us with that look on his face. The one that tells you that he’s been thinking about something way too much and is destined to make it happen.

”What if…I start playing guitar?” He finally says. We all stare at him for a few moments, both confused and intrigued.

“Play…guitar. And then what will I do?” Asks Finn.

“You’ll also play guitar.”

”Wait! Are you saying you’re gonna learn rhythm guitar?” Will cuts in, making Cal nod excitedly.

“I can play bass and guitar, and have been missing guitar, so why not practically combine the two?”

“But do you know how hard it is to find a bassist? Especially one that’s not already in a band?” Damien says, making Cal face him.

”Well, we obviously have time, seeing as we still have a few months left of tour and will barely have time to work on new music…but we do already know another bassist.” Cal pretty much sings the last part, like he sees himself as a genius for this plan.

”What? Who?” I ask. He gives me a smirk.

“I mean, we did just meet him, and I haven’t heard him play, but the way he was talking about it makes me feel like it’s worth a shot.”

”Who- Wait! Austin?” I ask, earning another excited nod from Cal, who was practically leaning over the center console at this point.

“I know it’s crazy, but he was so cool and the second we got to talking about music and playing bass, the ideas just started forming, so I’ve been giving it a lot of thought. And then after today and talking to Moke about it, I think it’s a really good idea. At least for us to think about and maybe talk to him about once we get an idea of what we should do with our sound.”

“I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to try. Will and I have been throwing ideas around as a joke, but if you guys are down with it, I say let's get our ideas brewing.” I reply. Finn and Damien nod, seemingly running ideas through their own heads already, until Finn whips his head towards me.

“Speaking of, what the fuck is going on with you two?” He asks, holding two fingers out to point at Will and me. I stare at him, a little stunned, before turning to Will on the other side of me, who has a sheepish look on his face. I turn back to Finn and awkwardly shrug.

“I mean, a lot and nothing at the same time.” I say.

“And what the fuck does that mean?” Damien says with a laugh. I let out a sigh and lean against the back of the seat.

“So I know I haven’t really told you two what’s been happening, other than that Noah and I haven’t exactly been on good terms lately, but a lot has been happening. And then at his birthday party, I found out that he slept with someone else.” Damien whips his head around to look at me, shocked, before quickly turning back to the road.

”He what?!” He practically yells. I nod before continuing.

“I was upset at first, like really upset, and that led me to wanting to…make some bad decisions.” Cal looks at me with a sad look, already knowing how bad I can get sometimes.

“Hun, you know you can talk to us. I was wondering where you went when you disappeared from the party and then practically went MIA for a whole day.” Finn said, giving me an equally pitying look.

“It’s okay now. Matt was nice enough to drive me back to the hotel, and after rotting in bed for a night, I ended up just buying a fuck ton of new clothes and going out to the club. So no bad decisions yet, but I was planning on it. I don’t know if I was looking to get back at Noah that night, or if I just wanted to get my mind off everything, but either way…I ended up taking someone back to my hotel room…” I continue, trailing off at the end. Cal instantly cranes his neck around the back of his seat to stare at Will, who just gave him an awkward smile.

“I was indeed Mr. Rebound that night,” Will bashfully added. I nodded before continuing.

“We both agreed that it was a one time thing and that it wasn’t going to be awkward, which I’m really glad about, because the last two days have been really fun just hanging out as friends.”

”Okay, but what about the rumors online? There’s a pic of you two walking down town, and then another that Austin posted of you two being quite snugly together.” Finn asked.

”That’s the thing. With everything going on with Noah, the last thing we need is the fans shoving their noses into all of it. So Will and I figured to just let those rumors run while Noah and I work everything out. I’m hoping I can get that information to Noah soon, not wanting to deal with any more miscommunication, but we still haven’t talked since that night in the bar.”

”And how do you plan on dealing with that?” Damien asks in an almost condescending tone, making me sigh.

“I talked to Ruffilo today and told him to pass along that I wasn’t upset anymore and that I wanted to try working on everything between us, so I just have to wait for Noah to be up for it and willing to chat, I guess.” I answer, just as we pull up to my hotel.

“I really want to hound you for more info right now, but I guess I’ll wait until we’re stuck on a tour bus together,” Finn says with a sigh. He leans over and gives me a hug as Will gets out of the car.

“Love you. I’ll catch a ride to the house the morning of so we can head to the bus together, alright?” I say as I pull away from Finn and turn to Cal and Damien. They give me a smile, nod, and I make my way out of the car, meeting up with Will.

We both wave to the boys as they drive away, then make our way up to my hotel room. Once inside, I quickly move to my suitcase and grab clothes, heading for the shower.

“I’ve worn these clothes for way too long and my hair feels like I could fry bacon on it. Make yourself comfy,” I tell Will, earning a laugh, before shutting the door behind me.

After turning on the shower and waiting for it to heat up, I stare at myself in the mirror. I look both rejuvenated and like I’ve been run over by a truck. I pull my hair out of the hair tie I put it in earlier today and brush out all the knots before finally stepping into the shower. Almost instantly, I feel the muscles in my shoulders loosen. I’ve been holding onto so much emotion lately, and while the war isn’t over yet, I have hope of the sun shining again.

I spend a little too long in the shower, letting my thoughts ruminate on my plan and everything that has happened lately as I slowly clean off almost 3 days worth of sweat, dirt, and bad decisions. Finally leaving the relaxing water, I dry off, get dressed, and join Will. I see that he’s just playing on his phone, so I round the bed and fall face first onto it next to him. I feel a hand on my back as I bury my face into the mattress, letting out a deep sigh.

“You alright?” he asks, lazily rubbing his hand against my shoulder. I do my best to nod with my face smushed, before turning my head and trying again.

“I just wish I didn’t have to deal with all of this on top of dealing with my first big tour. I won’t be surprised if I start going grey before I even make it back home,” I mumble, the exhaustion evident in my voice.

“I know. And it sucks that you didn’t get to do much relaxing on your break, but you have tonight and tomorrow, and if you need me to get out of your hair, I will,” he said in a soft voice, “Also I don’t think you’ve mentioned where you’re from. I heard someone talk about the east coast, but that’s about it.”

”You’re fine. I’ll lock myself in the bathroom if you get annoying,” I softly chuckle, “ And I grew up in Louisiana, but the boys and I are currently staying in New York. Kinda between NYC and Staten Island.”

As I say that, his hands stops rubbing my shoulder, making me look up, catching a shocked look on his face.

“Dude, you live an hour away from me,” he finally says, making me cock my head, stunned.

“You’re joking.” I laugh out as I sit up to face him.

“Dude, we’re hanging out all the time when your tour ends. Bro…” He starts to sit up, getting excited, “I have so much shit to show you down by where I live. And you’re showing me shit, too. This is great. I was so worried about when we’d get to hang out again.”

I laugh at his excitement, feeling the same. We didn’t have many friends up where we lived. Yeah, we made friends with a few other local bands, but never had the time to actually get close to them outside of occasionally playing together, so knowing Will was about an hours drive was amazing to know. The two of us talk, making plans of different things we want to show each other when I’m back home, until we finally both get tired and eventually crash.

Y/N

The tour bus shakes as we drive over what I assume was a pot-hole, causing my pen to scratch as I try to write. I let out a small curse, not in the mood to be dealing with any more inconveniences.

Music blasted through my headphones as I wrote down more and more shitty lyrics. I gave up on journaling, just turning every thought I had into ideas for new music. I’ll eventually work all of this out with someone to make it actually make sense.

After a day of bumming out with Will, him needing to leave the night before we hit the road again, and then a simple yet awkward encounter with Noah and the boys, we were finally all back on our buses and continuing the tour. Nothing really happened when I stopped by the boy’s place to meet up with my band, Finn and Damien taking up most of my time making sure we had absolutely everything perfect before leaving. I exchanged a few greetings with the other group, finally speaking to Matt for the first time since the party, and Noah and I just gave each other a small smile before we were hauling our belongings and taking off.

The tension seemed to ease, but it wasn’t gone. It’s still a work in progress. The first few shows after we got back were a little awkward still, but we were able to be in the same room together and not have the tension between us fill the room. But it also didn’t help that I just haven’t been in the best mood since getting back into it.

I wish I could easily explain why the second I stepped onto the bus and we all got settled, my mood shifted again, but I’m doing the best I can to use it to my advantage and not have the other boys worry about me. I thought the break and last day of relaxation would help me, but I think it may have made things worse. I think after the days of chatting with Will, then finally meeting him, him turning into an intense healing experience, that leaving him was a little harder than I expected. I knew he became a feeling of safety while I was with him, but I wasn’t expecting to attach to him that badly.

I may have become addicted to his presence while I had it. The comfort it gave me. How easily he helped me work through everything I’ve been dealing with, and then easily distract me from it all right after. I truly hadn’t had someone in my life like him in…probably forever.

I’ve had this reaction to two people in my life so far. First was Finn, back when he was my only friend. I followed him around like a puppy and every time he was busy and couldn’t spend time with me, I just felt lost. Like my entire existence started orbiting his. When he introduced me to Damien and Cal, and I started feeling closer to them as well, the connection dispersed between them all, dwindling the dependance I had on Finn. So once I saw all of the boys equally, all as brothers instead of one being my favorite, I lost the intense obsession with our friendship and was able to actually enjoy the time with and away from them all.

The second was my ex. He even reciprocated the obsession. It was the most unhealthy thing I’ve ever experienced. I did everything to please him, and he’d never let me go. He got me hooked on things I can’t even think about, purely because I wanted him to appreciate me and he wanted us to connect more, even if it was through addiction.

I didn’t see the boys for months at one point, just spending every second by Chris’ side, either strung out, playing music, or fucking. It took so long for me to realize that I wasn’t actually happy living like that. And the realization only came after I found out he decided to ‘move on’ while on tour. He still gave me the same sweet talk every time I called, but was actually fucking every fan girl he had.

I finally managed to break through the obsession, with my boys’ help. I left and got clean. I ignored every message Chris sent. I didn’t want to live like that anymore. And life was going fine…until I got the news. He died while on tour. I was even more of a wreck for the months following that than I was when I was with him, but with enough support and distraction from my boys, I did it.

Over the course of about a year, I found healthy coping mechanisms, mainly music, and persevered. I got better. I used my emotions about it all for our music, yet did my best not to dwell on it all, and things worked out. Our band flourished. Even with the whole Noah situation, I knew how to handle obsessive thoughts and I thought I was learning how to be better.

Things were good. I was good. I was happy. To not rely on another person for my own comfort felt amazing. But now the feeling was back. And it was attached to a person I couldn’t stay close to. Will went back to New Jersey and I had to hit the road. I was doing my best not to seclude myself, but I didn’t want to keep ruining everyone’s mood all tour, so I’ve just been hiding in my bunk or the back of the bus, mainly using the excuse that I was working on songs so they’d leave me alone.

It wasn’t a romantic obsession. It barely felt platonic at this point. My brain just felt like it needed him now. I needed to know that he was there for me. That he was doing good, just so that I could be doing okay, too. But with all of these feelings came with me pushing him away. Between hoping that staying away from him would ease this feeling, and the weird pain in my chest that I’d get every time he was too busy to talk, I just began ignoring every message and call. I couldn’t feel the pain of being ignored or alone if I ignored him.

The boys have definitely noticed that something was off, but with everything happening, they most likely figured it was just the stress of everything happening, so they’ve been helping with what they could. Every time we got to a venue, they’d let me seclude myself on the bus until it was time for sound check. While the other guys did their soundcheck or did their set, they’d let me wander off, assuming I just needed more space. But I think they were getting a little concerned with the fact that I’ve been a little more distant with the crowd. I don’t mean to. I felt absolutely terrible, but my mind was a fucking mess between planning out how to get the whole Noah situation fixed and feeling like my safety blanket was left behind.

I just slowly became numb on stage. Finn had to start asking the crowd for the ‘Fan’s Choice’ song after I completely forgot about it one night. I faked a laugh and did my best to play it off, but I knew my boys were starting to see right through me, so they took that resposibility from me and started doing it for me.

After our sets, I’d do my best to thank the crowd with a smile and walk off, but the second I was off stage, I was instantly walking away from everything. I’d either hide in the bathroom or my bunk. A few shows, I’d just go for a walk if we were in a nice area and only come back when I knew we were packing up to head onto the next show. I heard one of the boys give the group another excuse every time, but I could tell that even they were starting to catch on, too. At first, I was getting a ‘hope you feel better’ text from Nick, Matt stopping by before we hit the road to give me a few extra waters and snacks, and even had Jolly ask if I wanted to join him while running to the store, assuming I just needed a break from everyone and everything. But when I got a few texts from Ruffilo, I knew at least he had caught on.

It hit me like a ton of bricks once I got the courage to read it. I haven’t replied yet, not knowing my answer, but I’ve been debating it. I know he’s a good person and an amazing friend, seeing how sane he keeps his friends, especially Noah, but I would feel terrible adding my problems onto his plate. But I also keep telling myself that he wouldn’t reach out unless he was completely serious.

Speaking of Noah, nothing has really happened. He’s acting differently, but still keeping his distance. Maybe because he can sense that I may need it, but it seems like he needs it, too. I have no way of knowing what’s going on inside his head, but I’ve been regretting that cover I did. Even though I told Ruffilo to let him know I didn’t have any hard feelings about us anymore, I definitely added more confusing feelings to everything we’ve been dealing with. I haven’t gotten a reaction or response or anything from him about it, but I know the boys showed him.

I want to reach out. So badly. But I can’t. I haven’t said more than a handful of words to my own bandmates lately, ao speaking to him is currently off the table.

Life has just been a mess. I can’t speak to anyone. I’m ignoring the one person who could help me, purely because I’m convinced it’s going to make it worse since I can’t handle these obsessive feelings again. Finn almost yelled at me for smoking yesterday, but once he saw the look in my eyes, he just pretended like he didn’t even see me. I know my boys want to reach out to help, but I feel like they know that it won’t go anywhere. They haven’t seen me like this yet, but they can pick up on how I’ve acted before and can see that there may be no pulling me out of this funk. I’m just going to have to do it myself.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about falling back into worse things, but I couldn’t do that to the boys. To the person they love and to the career we finally got moving forward. Or the other group. They chose us for a reason. I couldn’t have them thinking they made a mistake. I couldn’t have them getting any heat because they’re now associated with a band whose frontman was strung out on stage. And I couldn’t do that to Noah. He’s dealing with enough. I know that even if I become the worst version of myself, it’ll never push him away, it’ll only drown him.

So I’m going to stick to secluding myself, blasting music, occasionally smoking a much needed cigarette, and writing more songs. More than anything did I want to call Will and ask for help, never writing songs like this before. And I couldn’t show these to my boys just yet, not wanting them to see these emotions and having to deal with the absolute trainwreck on paper they were at the moment, so I was stuck trying to work it out myself.

I feel the tour bus pull off to a rest stop again, probably the 7th time today. Damien was complaining all night about his stomach after eating out with the guys last night, and you can’t exactly use the toilets on the buses, so he had to repeatedly ask the driver to stop when we could. It only bothered me because we were constantly going between the lulling rumble that I’ve finally gotten used to again, to the idling shake as we waited. And I desperately wanted to step off and stretch my legs, maybe buy a snack or something, but I really didn’t want to leave my bunk and be seen by the others.

I was brought out of my thoughts by the curtain of my bunk opening slightly, with Finn’s head peeking through to check on me. I took a headphone out and gave him a fake half smile. Seeing that I was awake and willing to give him my attention, he pulled the curtain back more and gave me a pitiful smile, before handing me a tea and candy bar.

”I figured you’d want something sweet since Damien always hides the good snacks,” he said, sounding a little timid.

I eyed the snacks in his hand for a moment, before reaching out and taking him. I gave him a small ‘thanks’ and he looked a little too excited to hear me speak to him.

I was waiting for him to leave just like every other time he not so subtly checked on me, but he just stood there, internally debating something.

“Can we please talk?” he finally asked. I looked at him, about to tell him that everything was fine and not to worry, but something in me wanted to finally give in.

“Only to you..” I spoke softly. He instantly nodded and looked around the bus, before beckoning me to follow him.

I paused my music and slid out of my bunk, finally stretching my legs a bit, before following him to the back of the bus. There was a curtain you could pull to close it off from the rest of the bus, so once we entered, he closed it so we could have a little privacy. Once we both sat down, he began speaking.

“Okay, I don’t want to push you, so only answer what you feel comfortable with, okay?” I nodded and he let out a deep sigh.

“My love. I am so unbelievably worried about you. We all are. Even the other guys. I know that you have these moments and that life is kind of a mess right now, but I just need something from you. I need to know that you’re still here. That you’re still you. Please.”

”I..I’m sorry..” was all I could get out. He gave me a sad look.

“Please don’t apologize for this. I just need you to know that you don’t have to deal with this alone. We’ve been here for you before, so I don’t know why we can’t help you now.”

”I’m just dealing with things I haven’t dealt with in a long time. Things I never really mentioned to anyone before. So it’s weird talking about them now.” He reached his hand out and held mine, rubbing his thumb over the back to try and soothe me.

“You know we’d never judge you. Yes, we tease you, but never about your problems. And you have new people in your life now who love you almost as much as we do, and you’re not talking to them either. Will has been blowing up my phone, asking for any updates I can give, because he’s terrified, thinking of all the reasons why you’re not talking to him.”

My head dropped at the mention of his name. Fuck, I am hurting him. He doesn’t deserve this.

“I…I can’t”

”Can’t what?” He asked.

“Talk to him…” He gave me a confused look.

”You looked so happy spending time with him. You were so upset knowing you couldn’t see him until we get back home. What could have possibly happened in that time?”

I just sat there, staring at my hands, debating if I share one of the most embarrassing things about myself. I could barely look him in the eye when I had to ask for help when dealing with Chris. It took me forever to tell him everything about Noah. Can I tell him this?

I felt droplets falling onto my hand, making me realize I was now crying. I tried to reach up and wipe my tears, but Finn beat me to it. I finally took this moment to look him in the eyes for what felt like the first time in forever, and my heart broke at the pain in them, caused by me acting like this. With a deep breath, I began to tell him everything.

I told him about how safe Will made me feel. How terrifying it was getting to be away from him. I told him about how this happened in the past. But this time, it was feeling so much harder to deal with. Pushing myself away from him before it hurt me more. I told him about the cravings. Apologized for smoking. How I wish none of this ever happened, because I couldn’t handle dealing with all the emotions. I even finally told him about the cover I sent to Noah, and how I haven’t heard a single thing from him since. Everything that has been running through my mind the past few days just spewed from my lips, each sentence hitting Finn like a truck full of pain.

He did his best to comfort me, but because most of it was problems he never had to work with before, we were both left feeling lost. So now I was silently sobbing into his chest as he held me, telling me that it was okay and that we can work this out.

After about ten minutes, my sobs dying down, I finally spoke again.

“And to top it all off, the 17th is coming up..” I said with a sniffle. The 17th was the day Chris passed. It was always hard for me, but I’ve been able to handle it the best I could in the past, but with everything happening this year, I don’t know how hard it will hit me.

”Oh, Hun..” he said, frowning, “We can get through this like we always do. It’s a completely different problem for you to deal with, so if we just seperate that from everything else, I promise we can work through this.”

I nodded and gave him another hug. I was definitely feeling better now that I finally let tears fall and let my thoughts out on more than just paper.

After collecting myself a little more, we stood and made our way towards the front of the bus. The boys looked shocked to see me. I know I probably looked like a mess, as I’ve only been putting effort into my appearance when I go on stage, but they were definitely more shocked to see me coming to them for the first time in over a week.

I walked to Damien first and gave him a big hug. He tensed in confusion for a second, but quickly relaxed and squeezed me tight. I giggled softly until he finally let me go, then did the same with Cal, who welcomed me with open arms and a proud smile. He held me close and dug his face into my shoulder, like he truly missed me. Then more arms joined us. I was now the center of a group hug and couldn’t help but laugh as they squeezed me half to death.

“I’m so glad to see you doing better,” Damien said, and I heard his voice waver slightly. I felt terrible doing this to them.

“I’m sorry for acting like this, I really should be coming to you when I need help, it’s just hard. But you’re the best family I could’ve asked for and I really need to take advantage of it,” I said as they start pulling away.

”Anything you need, we’re here for you. Always,” Cal stated.

“Now that you say that, I might have something I could use your help with,” I mumbled.

I took a deep breath. I had to do this. It was an outrageous step, but it was what I needed to do if I wanted to start working on myself. I stepped forward towards the mic and looked over the hundred of cheering faces in front of me. I took out my ear piece, wanting to feel closer to them as I began speaking.

“So, I know that there’s been some speculation lately. On how shit I’ve looked the past few shows,” I let out a little laugh, “And mainly my interaction with all of you. And I’m very sorry. I know excuses are a terrible apology, but I feel like I should explain just a little.”

The crowd died down, letting me give my speech.

“I know all of you understand what it’s like to have a bad day. Nothing goes right, you don’t want to talk to people, and you just want to lose your mind a little but. Sadly, that’s been a little too common for me lately. Life has been crazy, everything seems to be going wrong, and all I want to do is lay in bed. But you all push me to persevere.”

I pause to collect myself, knowing this will be a little rough for me.

“Now, I’m going to be very vulnerable here. When I look out and see all of you, I see a safe space, so please be nice to me,” I laugh again before taking a deep breath, “I used to deal with a lot. Life became too much and I chose not so great people to be around. With that, came falling down the pit that is…addiction…Now, I’ve been clean for coming on six years-“ The crowd cheered as I said that, causing my lip to quiver and I could feel emotion building in my throat, but I held my composure, “But that doesn’t mean I don’t still have those bad days. I struggle with a plethora of mental health issues, and sometimes I want to fall back into the false safety of those old days. But I don’t. Because of the boys behind me,” I pause and hold out my arms, motioning to my bandmates, “Some amazing people that have come into my life recently,” I glance over to the side stage, catching a shocked Ruffilo and Noah, Jolly and Nick creeping in behind them to hear what I have to say, then out towards Front of House where Matt sat, before finally looking back at the crowd, “And most importantly, all of you.”

I pause to wipe a tear that fell down my cheek as the crowd cheered once more.

“So, today, I am sadly once again revoking the privilege of the ‘Fan’s Choice’ song. I know. I’d hate me, too, but the reason I’m doing this is because I’ve learned that the best way to convey a message is through music. I have so much I have to say, and I am unbelievably bad at speeches, so I’m using one of my favorite songs to speak to you all.”

I pause to wipe a tear that fell down my cheek as the crowd cheered once more.

“This is wildly out of our genre. While that has never been a problem to any of you before, I still feel as if I should still warn you. Now, without further ado, here’s a song that has helped me more than I could ever explain.”

An array of applause flows through the building as the boys got ready to play. I was thankful they were so incredibly talented that they were willing to play a song that they had just learned earlier today. I take a look back at them, and once they all gave me a thumbs up, I began.

I started using again

Left my heart in Rocky Hill

Hole burning in my head

Needed a distraction from my head

Devil on my shoulder said try this instead

So I started using again

A saw a few fans singing along, both warming and breaking my heart. To know this song meant to know struggle. But to share that with them meant so much.

I started sleeping again

Traded late nights and sheep for Vicodin

The guilt burning in my chest set it

I started sleeping again

I took the mic off the stand, getting ready for the next part, wanting to finally feel emotion in the music I perform again.

I stopped wishing I was dead

Learned to love myself

Before anyone else

Become more than just a burden

I know I’m more than worthy of your time

I drop the mic to my side as Damien went crazy on the drums and Finn played a riff that he managed to execute perfectly, before singing again.

I started smoking again

Guess I missed coughing my lungs up

Every morning

Needing anything to keep me breathing

To prevent my blood from bleeding

I started smoking again

They all stopped playing, besides Finn picking the soft tune on his guitar.

I started loving again

Thought when I lost that will to live

I could never feel again

I’ll give it one more shot

And let someone in

I started loving again

Cam started playing again, getting louder by the second.

I started loving again

I took a deep breath, putting the mic back on the stand, but then grabbed the stand to stabilize myself.

I stopped wishing I was dead

Learned to love myself

Before anyone else

Become more than just a burden

I know I’m more than worthy of your time

I’m more than worthy of your time

I stepped away as the music died out. It took a few seconds, but soon the cheers came rumbling through the building, causing a smile to form on my face. I hated being vulnerable, but it was time. I’ll never fully heal that part of me, but being able to do this in front of so many supportive fans was a huge step for me.

After giving the crowd a long and appreciative goodbye and doing my best to hype them up for Bad Omens, even after the emotional show we had, the boys and I made our way off stage. I desperately wanted to run back to the bus and hide like I had been doing all week, but I pushed those thoughts away and walked towards backstage. This would be the first time I was going to really talk to the other band since the halloween party, other times just giving passing words, barely giving them a glance.

With a deep breath, I stepped into the room and all of their eyes shot up to see me. I wanted to cower away, hide from the confrontation. It was bad enough that I just said all of that to thousands of fans, now I had to deal with these four, and it was going to be so much harder.

None of us seemed to know how to react. I noticed that all of them had slightly puffy, red eyes, Noah’s being visibly redder than the rest, but I didn’t want to think about that too much to keep my own at bay.

“So uh… I guess this is where I apologize for how I’ve been acting...” I awkwardly trail out, shifting between my feet as they all just stared at me.

“What? No! You don’t have to apologize!” Ruffilo rushed out as he stood to walk towards me, “I’m just glad you’re okay. We’ve been so worried about you. And oh my god, did that take some balls out there.”

A smile creeped onto my lips as he talked. It did feel really good to take that step and get some of this off my chest. The rest of the guys stood and walked towards me, Noah trailing behind, keeping his distance.

“Y/N, you are one strong motherfucker. Never apologize for that. We all understand that life gets bad sometimes and you just need a break, but I want you to know that we would never judge you for that.” Nick said.

I couldn’t stop the tears before they came pouring down my face, despite not wanting to spill any more. All I could do was raise my arms, and they came in to give me a hug. I did my best to keep my tears from getting on Ruffilo’s shirt, but I feel like the fans would understand if they did see a wet spot.

I opened my eyes during the hug and saw a pair of skinny long legs standing awkwardly behind the others. With a small laugh mixed with a choked sob, I beckoned with the hand closest to him.

“Noah, get your ass in here.” His breath audibly hitched as I said his name, but he slowly made his way in and joined us. Then the three boys behind me did as well. And now I was trapped between seven men with no way out, slowly losing oxygen.

“Okay. Okay. I need to breathe.” I finally exclaimed after a few moments, making a few of them laugh.

They all pulled away and a few of them even wiped their eyes as they did.

“I love you all. I really do. I know I haven’t put much effort in getting close to some of you, but that doesn’t change the fact that you all mean so much to me,” I spoke, looking at all of them, “But that being said, wipe your tears and get out there.”

They chuckled and went back to getting ready to head on stage. Noah lingered a little longer than the rest, like he wanted to say something, but decided against it and joined the rest of them.

“You gonna stay and watch our set this time?” Jolly called out as he walked towards side stage. I give him a small smile.

”I have to call someone first, but I’ll be there.”

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian reader insert #bad omens #bad omens fanfiction #running in circles #Spotify

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dirtbra1n · 3 days ago

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have a fuckton of dishes to do can I be vulnerable and honest. prevalence of homophobic hanzawa makes me saaaad. Okay that’s all

#could elaborate on this but actually i am tired. and its not in the same as miyano sad. because of circumstances you know #so it’s not really anything i FEEL like going on about at least right this second. but Aw man. you know #like his Weird in the hrkg timeline is super fun BECAUSE ssmy shows us a lot more. of his interiority On specifically this vein Isn’t it rea #lly interesting that one of the very few times we’re let into masato’s head to know where it’s at is when we’re in his family’s dining room #having a life altering conversation. and then the like mall or whatever during a #nother very important conversation. and both of these AND the conversation with miyano AND the later conversation he has with miyano as a #followup We weren’t really in his head during that last one but walk with me. Isn’t it really interesting that they’re all kind of about the #same thing. i think it’s really interesting. can you tell #anyway the hrkg timeline I don’t know if these are still spoilers exactly. we all know about what yashiro said by now right. please go look #at what yashiro said if not.#it’s not NOT about masato and his Weird there. what yashiro says to kagi. but really looking at it fully it’s REALLY about . well #objectively its about kagi recalibrating to Rather than get angry at hanzawa-san for what he heard. he’s like Oh okay. i just won’t let us #get caught. but Also what it’s about is Just how fucking weird yashiro says what he says. Why did he say it like that. why has yashiro #gotten so much page space AND a name early AND LIKE. detailed eyes. You know. it’s kind of about that #hanzawa masato’s a worrier and we all know this. that’s what he’s doing. i COULD go on about that more because Really i have plenty to say.#but i’m tired. you see. anyway What kagi actually gets pouty about with regards to masato is[sink gunk machine calls for me]#ANYWAY WHAT I MEAN TO GET AT IS THAT I UNDERSTAND THEYRE JUST JOKES. BUT NEVERTHELESS I AM SENSITIVE AND THEY MAKE ME SAD. OKAY DISMISSED

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suddencolds · 6 months ago

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. not snz

on healing and on fear (tags)

#(typed this up at 3am and scheduling for later) no one needs to read this 🙏#today i went back to the site where i got injured back in may to partake in a sport which i haven't touched at all since the injury #and i think what struck me was the realization that #i don't know if i'll ever be able to stop being scared again :')#for a time climbing was very special to me...#it was one of the only ways i could feel myself improving so tangibly when improvement is usually so difficult to track #i liked seeing myself get better at something 😭 i liked going with friends and puzzling over the same problems... i liked having something #to look forward to after work. and perhaps having something to look forward to sounds simple... but for me it meant so much :')#for the first couple months after the injury i couldn't wait to get back into it #and then one day i woke up and i was just afraid #the fear feels so much more tangible now that i know i am not overreacting... it's awful knowing that in a way i was right to be afraid #i always knew there were risks associated; i have always been cautious #but i had just been starting to learn to be braver 😭#and fuck... today i stood there and looked at the wall and thought. how can i ever not be afraid again?#how can i go back to how things were before? when i loved this? when i could tell myself that - despite the fear - it was meaningful to try #i wanted to come away with the takeaway that i could take things slowly and get back into climbing - maybe precisely because #i remember so keenly how i loved it - but how could it ever be the same?#😭 i know this is just part of growing up but #in some ways i am tired of growing up... :') in some ways i just want that joy as it was then #delete later probably #i suppose i haven't lost anything but typing this made me sob for something i couldn't quite name

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cs-oc-blank-random-posts · 5 months ago

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there's a message for someone in the tags

(aimed/tw)

#if you plan on talking bad about me #atleast tell them about what you did.#if you plan in telling everyone how “awful” i am #let me remind you that im not the one who convinced the other that the relationship was normal.#infact i was the one who kept insisting that it was wrong #only thing i did wrong was the fact that i listened to you.#i've moved on from the past events but what you said about me and what you could be telling others about me is implanted in my mind.#i know you said sorry but i never had the heart to accept it. because what you called me was extreme.#i never even met you in real life and you say that about me? that i did that to you??#tell everyone whatever aslong as it's true. im not scared to admit that i've had my wrongs because im no saint in the situation.#but don't you dare pretend like i was the only one who's wrong.#yes you did what you did out of anger. but i always kept mine to myself. im angry but i never told anyone lies about you like you've done.#im genuinely angry and i need to get this out. atleast when im angry i don't spread lies that could harm a person's life #i literally could go to prison because of what you said that never even happened.#whether or not you get this' i still need to get it out #don't you ever speak about me in any way shape or form.#the only times i've ever talked about you was when i had to state my truth on what you perceived.#you don't have the right to say anything about me after the lies you've said #do not bring down my name just to lift yours up.

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holyviolence · 1 month ago

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cringe is dead but shame will live forever

#do you know how many times i've wanted to Fandom Post here for a certain fandom.....#but when i tell you i would lose so many followers and mutuals.......#i'm pretty certain it would end mutualships. not because it's problematic or anything like that but because it's so cringe #and. well. people outside the fandom have a very different view of the fandom than what it's actually like ..#because of a few big names that WERE awful people. repeatedly.#but i am scrolling thru AO3 where i feel no shame :)#GOD BLESS NICHE FEMSLASH !!!!!!!

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youaremysunshine-court · 9 months ago

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give me 5 reasons not to jump out of my window

#sorry its just #its 2 in the morning for my old man constitution and its the middke of doom week #AND i just finished an existentialism paper #ON NIETZSCHE #youd think id no how to spell that after 5 hours of typing and retyping his name but i DONT #1. bc i have to become an archaeologist for Petty Reasons for Spite Reasons #2. bc i have to become an archaeologist for cool 'baby jay wanted to do this and so does adult jay' reasons #3. my dog would miss me #4. my friends would miss me #5. i cant die till they can legally put dr on my grvestone #6. i havent written a book yet and the world deserves to see me zombie boyfriends #7. i havent actually done anything truly cursed yet #8. jumping out of a window is Not an interesting death i want to die in a cool way #9. i need to defend said existential paper in front of my favourite professor and best my entire class in verbal combat #10. i dont actually want to die i just want sleep and a hot cup of cocoa and maybe for finals week to be done with #yeah #i feel better after that #i actually really love my life because if you went back in time and told 12 yr old jay that they write about THE FRIEDRICH NIETZSCHE one day #they would be shocked and in awe and find me so so cool bc they loved the Idea of studying philosophy even if they werent sure what it was #and thats kinda cool #i am my own hero and i am literally the coolest person to my younger self #and thats amazing #anyway #this acrually turned out kinda cheerful when i thought it would be a rant post #lol #abyway gonna go cram anthro and socio now bc apparently i keep taking ws

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skinnypaleangryperson · 1 month ago

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I am genuinely in such disgust and vague despair realizing what I've come to realize in adulthood about the celebrities and rich people that I didn't necessarily idolize, but that shaped many parts of my personality growing up in an incredibly traumatizing adolescent time of my life.

Not necessarily the artists themselves, but definitely the characters they created that completely defined and in some ways saved my life, and throughout my adulthood I've seen them do no less than to mock poor people, associate and start projects proudly with other celebrities that openly mock poor people every day on platforms, and make fun of people on podcasts for staying alive for the sentiment of whatever art is created, even if they made the art themselves (I'm looking at you, Will Arnett from Bojack. As much of a genuine piece of shit as much as the character he played, and the only decent thing he ever did in his career which never even somewhat made up that god-awful personality. How pathetic.)

I'm so shut down and jaded at this point, I don't even care anymore except for my own schizophrenic delusions and I truly despise everyone as much as society evidently despises people like me. Growing up is a hell of a time, and I'm not talking about the economy.

Peace out, braindead, unoriginal and unobserving consumptive losers. I would suggest moving on from "Supernatural" before the economy blows you off, so that you can at the very least have a semblance of getting your head out of your ass and possibly having at least a pinch of an original experience, and I'm not talking about going back to your precious celebrity worship.

#seeing Kane West openly calling poor people pathetic and various names throughout the months knowing Trey Parker recently made a project #with him on top of personal trauma has made me officially not care about anything anymore except strictly for the character themselves #I honestly don't even care about people in the fandom or interacting with content because of how awful reality is #I am just absolutely done and not for this society much longer 🤷#at least I know that these people are worthless pieces of shit and can leave this world to its own rotting festering worthless waste and #idolship in peace #I am seriously so devastated and disgusted and I don't even care anymore #rick and morty #bojack #south park

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dubacheryking · 2 months ago

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this is literally insane how are there NO FUCKING WELLS FARGO BANKS ANYWHERE NEAR ME?????? the closest ones are 3 FUCKING HOURS AWAY!! IN EITHER DIRECTION!!! HOW???

#richie rambles #i need to change my name on this fucking account but i CANT because i dont have TIME to drive SEVEN FUCKING HOURS for a goddamn thirty #minute stop this is RIDICULOUS #like how the fuck is the dealership i got my car from allowed to use a bank. WITH NO BRANCHES. for my fucking loan. i DONT GET IT #there arent even any in NEW ENGLAND where i am going to be ANYWAY in march for the fucking vundabar concert!!! this is RIDICULOUS #except the one in FUCKING HARTFORD which-if im correct- im not even driving thru bc im SUPPOSED TO BE FLYING TO THAT CONCERT!!!!#hartford is literally an hour and a half away from where im going to be. this is insane. what the fuck does the universe have against me #ever changing my name on this fucking loan and also the goddamn credit card that i have #yes i already said that IT NEEDS TO BE SAID AAIN IDGAF #this is infuriating. jesuys christ #and i love how calling them was FUCKING USELESS theyre just like well we cant do that over the phone and also i cant find any locations #around nay of the areas u gave me oops sorry! cant do anything for u! i get it. customer service is awful BUT ARE U KIDDING ME #ugh. christ. this is terrible #non fandom

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tonycries · 2 months ago

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Madam Kamo - C.K.

Synopsis. Bréeding kínk? Going feraI? What the hell is that? Maybe your sweet clan leader husband knows the answer…

Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, clan leader! Choso, arranged marriage, mentions of heirs, he’s a little ínsane, elders are awful, MARATHONS, he goes FÉRAL, BRÉEDING, creampíes, a lot of cúmplay, semi-public, dóm Choso, oraI (fem rec), cervíx kíssing, making it fit, bulges, cúmflations, matíng presses, dúmbification, overstím, making him CRY, p talking, spítting, HEADLOCKS, slight 5 + 1 things, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 9.3k

A/N. CLAN LEADER CHOSO CLAN LEADER CHOSO

Choso Kamo - firstborn son of the ancient Kamo clan, more of a myth than a man.

Those who attended the sprawling Kamo Estate never dared utter a word about him; and those who didn’t, well, he was all that they could talk about.

He left no evidence, he left no remorse.

Only rumors of a silent, stoic leader who could slaughter four entirely different clans before he let even a singular whisper of it spread amongst the masses. Ones of pretty mahogany eyes, and a silver bow and arrows that hit the target of your very soul - so fluid it was as if he’d forged the weapon with his own blood.

And then there were the other rumors - more gossip than anything, really. Spread throughout every nook and cranny of stuffy social functions about how the deadly Kamo clan leader had another, secretive side. A softer side.

But, of course, rumors were rumors. Choso Kamo was simply an enigma.

And…your new husband.

“Zoning out, hm?” A hot gust of breath sends shivers sprinting down your spine, and in an instant you’re snapping your eyes to latch onto deep, hazel ones. Choso’s. The edge of his plump lips curl slightly upwards, “My apologies, this wedding reception is quite droning, isn’t it?”

Hastily breathing, “N-no! Of course not, I…” You’re wincing when yet another wizened elder saunters up to the raised platform of your table. Probably the hundredth of the night. “-yeah, maybe a bit.”

Choso stifles out a rumbling bout of chuckles as he catches your gaze, so close now that his pearly white teeth almost nick your sensitive earlobe. “Let me take care of this, my wife.”

And when Choso shifts over to nod curtly at your oncoming guest, you couldn’t help but appreciate how beautiful he is. All tall, towering lines of lean muscle, his silken black yukata wafting of heady cologne, and delicate features that made him have almost as many admirers as he did foes.

Or, at least, delicate features that were currently twisted into something hardened. Something exactly like clan leader Kamo of all the stories.

He’s tilting his head up, long lashes narrowed, “Elder Tanaka, a pleasure.”

“No no! The pleasure’s all mine.” The older man slurs drunkenly, and despite the way his words were just dripping with saccharine sweet politeness, years of suffering through these exact interactions had made it easy for you to spot faux niceties. Like right now. “Or should I say- the new madam’s. You must be glad to marry into a clan as esteemed as the Kamo’s.”

The plastic smile that smears all over your face is painful, and you’re biting your tongue before it betrays you. “Yes, of c-”

“My apologies for cutting in, madam.” You’re startling - but you don’t know whether it’s because of the softened fingerpads that intertwine around yours, or the utter fire curdling in Choso’s eyes. “But I must say, I am the lucky one here.”

Oh.

Elder Tanaka is more impressive than you thought - his mask of respect barely even cracks, other than the jerky twitch of one eye. Honestly, you don’t think he’s ever heard Choso speak this much ever before. Quickly gathering his bearings, “Ah- ah, of course, master Kamo! Correct as always!”

Fuck- you can’t hold back the way you roll your eyes, only remembering yourself when Choso’s engulfing hands loosen from your own to give your thigh a warm squeeze.

“You have wedded quite the catch, of course of course.” Your unwelcome company finally, finally looks at you properly. A sneer coating his slow blinking, “I-I simply meant that considering the master’s incredible power, wealth, and options, what she brings to the table-”

“-is herself.” Choso finishes off monotonically. “And that’s all I need.”

Choso’s words were husky, his grip on you tight. And you wonder if he even realized just how hard he was clutching onto your heated skin - mountains of his palm dragging a smooth up n’ down your clothed leg.

You knew he was well-hidden underneath the lacy tablecloth, you knew that not a single elder, family member, or friend bustling about your wedding reception could see that particular touch over the dim yolky lighting.

But something about it just made you feel hot.

It takes you a few fuzzy seconds to realize that Elder Tanaka was still speaking - in fact, he’d even summoned over a few more members of the council to encircle your decadent table. All the more voices speaking at you rather than to you.

“-that’s what I was saying-” You’re catching croaked-out snatches of conversation, warily eyeing the way the men clap each other supportively on their backs.“-it’s about the right time don’t you think?”

Another one nods, “Jin has been waiting for so long, after all-”

“-yes yes, to have an heir-”

Oh.

That’s what had Choso’s high cheekbones currently dusted with a faintly blossoming rose pink. That’s what had his thickened digits dipping past your luxurious evening yukata to rover between your thighs higher, and higher- like he didn’t even realize what he was doing.

Like he was yearning for it.

“The Kamo clan shall have an heir.” You’re interrupting their ramblings, the mere sound of your voice enough to make Choso’s fingertips twitch. Smooth skin prickling with heaps of goosebumps already when you lock eyes right with his. “As soon as my husband is ready, right?”

And Choso Kamo was brought up with the most rigorous of training, raised to never show even the barest flicker of emotion - especially one where he’s caught off guard.

But right now he knows that he looks as stunned as he feels.

Coral pink maw falling into a soft oh! dark whirlpools of his eyes glinting with something so utterly raw. The trembling tips of his fingers lurch up just the barest inch to drag a lazy line down your pussymound.

He’s instantaneously shifting his free hand up in one, fluid motion to cover the feverishly flushed half of his face. Jaw clenching with a sharp click! of his teeth when he swipes the fat pad of his thumb down a fresh bead of your leaking slick, making such a flimsy mess of your drenched panties. Was this all for him?

Because now Choso’s getting…greedy.

And you’re almost letting off a slight whimper when he hastily drags his scouring hand away - that is, before every and any sound dies in your throat once your husband dips his wetted thumb past his lips and sucks.

Subtly.

And his voice cracks oh-so-pathetically, “R-right.”

Eyes staring deeply into yours when he parts his doughy fingertips mere millimeters to lather it with a fat wad of saliva. Your breath hitches in your chest, frantically glancing at the babbling group of men who were, thankfully, way too absorbed in themselves to notice your little…tryst.

And it’s only with all his years as a seasoned fighter that Choso’s nuzzling his soaked digits back between your jittery thighs. In a flash.

Planting exactly three soppy smack! smack! smacks! plapped onto the perfect arch of your drooling pussy. Choso’s raising his neat brows at just how those tremors make you squirm in your seat.

“Ch-Cho—so-” You’re gasping under your breath, hips repeatedly shuffling on your cushiony chair when he licks up repeated, sultry circles- no, wait, hearts along the slippery slit of your covered cunt. Up and down. “Th-they might see…”

“Shhh, don’t want them to hear, baby.” He’s leaning in to pant out a murked cloud against your ear, throat bobbing with a ravenous swallow of saliva as he then probes a few stuffy fingers under your panties. “You seem stressed– Let me take care of it.”

Oh, it was a promise - and the rasping growl that bled into Choso’s tone told you that he was well and fully intent on accomplishing his little task. “Spread those pretty legs now.”

With a steady, muscular calf hooked with your own, he’s cracking your thighs evermore parted. The scorching hot press of his big, beefy forearm over your shoulders making you feel as if you’re on the verge of melting. Practically on his lap now-

“Is everything alright, master–?” You’re hearing from what sounds like somewhere over in the distance, even though you already know that it’s from right in front of you.

“Everything is quite alright.” Choso’s plush pecs vibrate with his rapid answer, and you’re finding yourself leaning your weight onto his. Huffing and puffing near the crook of his neck, “It seems the madam is just feeling a little ah…tired, right now. Continue your talk, elders.”

Tired - you couldn’t feel more riled up if you even tried.

“Ngh- Choso-” You’re sinking your teeth into your wobbly lower lip, hard enough to draw blood. High, carved chair singing off a slight creak! when you’re bucking your hips up to jostle his gluttonous fingers closer to where you wanted him the most. “-need you.”

Well, whatever his wife wanted - you got.

In simple nanoseconds, Choso’s snugly prying away your gauzy lace. Letting the too-thin fabric snap back against your sappy cunt with a teasing little swat!

Before you can blink, he’s gracing your panties with microscopic tears at just how eager he was to give your plump, buttony clit a good, hard push. Cold golden wedding ring perking up against your most tender spots. Flexible wrists bending towards an even vulgarly deep angle to keep you from escaping-

And you think you could scream, you think you could open your mouth to make a scene - before Choso beats you to it. Purring out an oblivious, “Is everything alright, my wife? You seem a little feverish.”

All the while slipping n’ sliding his fingerpads to smear your gluey pussylips open. Mazing down, down, down in a lecherous little pace to plug up your geysering entrance snugly full with two of his fattened digits.

You’re clutching helplessly onto Choso’s thick yukata sleeve when the elders stare over at you curiously, “I-I’m fine, Ch- my husband. Just a few post-wedding jitters.”

“Awww, that’s alright.” He’s cooing from above you, words sugarcoated with such gentleness - but his hands were anything but. “M’here, m’here.” Setting out a vicious, ceaseless pace that has his manly fingers outlining numerous circles round n’ round your tight, flooding entrance. Motioning in slight, sleazy swirls all around your elastic hole just to fit inside properly. “Your dear Choso’s here, y’know? And I’ll take such good care of you.”

“Ah! Of course-” Ring out the replies, evidently your hurried-out shudders were not enough for your guests to lose interest. Or for Choso, either - because he’s just feeding your slobbering orifice with more fat inches upon grinding inches. “-producing an heir is a very integral part of the marriage contract. It’s understandable to be nervous.”

Shivering, “S-sure.”

“Mhm—” Choso’s trawling his pouted mouth down your perspiration-simmered temple, “-a very integral part. But, of course, we’ve got to make sure that my beloved wife is-” Quirking the very edge of his digits to clash right into the target of your g-spot. “-ready, after all.”

The clingy embrace of your warm cunt so cozy that it’s bumping Choso’s metallic ring further and further from his hilled knuckles to dredge out a chilling, languid massage along your channel.

It takes everything in you to manage up a half-heartedly narrowed glare up at your chatting husband, easily conversing his way through every battering ram being placed on your pretty pussy.

He doesn’t make a sign - he doesn’t even make a noise. Nothing except for a sharp, sudden inhale once another innocent peck at your lips makes your filthy hole fountain out a fresh lather of sickly sweet juices.

Dripping all the way down to his wrist with thickly viscous adhesive, he’s making such a fucking mess. And a loud one, too.

Slurp after slurp being wrenched out with every pound of his neatly cut nails patterning out little indents onto your most favorite spots - ones that have your legs shaking underneath the humid table. Choso’s bouncing his knee to drum out a staccato against the floor, just to cover up your cute little melody.

He has you going insane.

You’re pushing apart your legs to dig into either side of your chair with just how desperate you were for him. For more more more.

Bumping your thigh against one of his, and the mere touch is enough to send shockwaves down Choso’s sloped body.

“Trying to tease me, baby?” He’s hovering over you even closer, darting out a hefty thud! of two fingertips- no, three - when did he even bully in another one - onto the goopy roof of your cunt.

“M’not-” You’re biting out, head lolling ever-so-slightly backwards when Choso furrows his brows and pumps out copious thrusts that hit your forbidden g-spot dead on. Engulfed so deeply inside your hot core that the gentle curves of his palm smudge against your clit now. “J-just keep- talking.”

And, truly, it wasn’t just because your company was peering over the two of you expectantly - it was because Choso sounded so very hot.

Vibrato husky with an animalistic sort of need, tremoring ever-so-slightly-

“Agreed, I would like a few sons and daughters.” Choso’s nodding along smoothly, although his full attention is focused on you. His wife. And the way your sweltering hot gummy walls clench around his bludgeoning fingers even tighter at the words. Faster. “Maybe three. Maybe five. Although, it’s up to the madam.”

In the corner of your eye, you’re catching them all staring at you, and you urgently force out a nod.

“C’mon now, answer them using your words like a big girl, why don’t you–?” He’s humming, tilting your burning face up. Faster. So that you can’t hide.

Lilting shrill just as unbalanced as your head was, “Y-yes-”

But of course, that wasn’t enough - that would never be enough. “Louder. They can’t hear you over the music, baby.”

Can’t do anything but claw down drawings of red, red lines all across Choso’s milky arms when he bustles into the targets of your honeyed spots even harder. Unsteady syllables spilling out from your lip before you can even register them, “Yes- yes. As…many as possible.”

“That’s it- good girl.”

Fuck.

And those raked scratches make perfect artwork for him to admire - just as he was admiring you right now.

It was just such a shame that the others here were, too, even if they didn’t know the complete and utter sin happening just underneath the table cloth. Sloppier.

Choso’s kissing his teeth, broad deltoids of his shoulder positioning to hide you away from any sleazy gazes. Because they could be near, but they couldn’t see. You were his.

“Then, it’s settled-” He’s drawling, hooded eyes locked onto you. Memorizing your every minute twitch and reaction when he urges his free hand to hold onto yours on your lap. Or, at least, that’s what it looked like to the outside. In fact, Choso’s snugly prying apart your silken robes to roll over your throbbing clit and pinch. “-we can look forward to an heir, soon. Right, madam?”

And that’s all it takes for you to cum.

Your head tucking into his sculptured shoulder, thighs closing with a dull clap! as your high crashes into you headfirst. You don’t need to mutter a single sentence for Choso to know.

For his eyes to widen just a fraction at the way your treacly slit only got infinitely dewier, rounded gumdrops of your slick sprinkling down in a weepy sheen all over his messy hands. Mouth going parched at the realization that you’re orgasming right here, right now.

“O-oh? Seems my wife agrees.” Choso’s waving those elders away now, not taking his eyes off of you for a single second. It was just too adorable how you were shaking like a leaf at his side, “Well, m’glad. So- so…glad.”

Motioning your hips in such salacious semi-circles to bump up his upright fingers against your every extra sweet orifice.

Your sticky walls were so staggeringly tightly wrapped around him that it’s making his forehead bead with sweat, low puffs of air escaping with every peak he fucks you through. Every peak of white-hot pleasure that he draaags out until your guests are finally - finally - walking back to their own tables.

“Sh-shit-” you’re mewling when Choso barely hesitates - barely even takes a quick sweep around the room to check who might be looking - before parting from your sappy cunt with a resounding squelch!

Immediately popping those viscously-glazed fingerpads into his starved mouth, he’s letting his glassy eyes sprint to the back of his head. Musing out a moan, “Fuck- fuck!”

You can only watch with an awed gape whilst Choso stares right into your heart-shaped pupils as he cleans himself off. One by one. Before trekking his lustrous fingers back over to your cunt, and measuring out a wide few inches - perhaps nine - from the base of your teary entrance up to your tummy.

“Choso…” you’re whispering, hazy eyes blinking up at him as if through molasses. “Wha’s that for?”

And Choso only grins, stray range of knuckles thoroughly bitten underneath his gleaming canines while he measures you up.

As if he was holding back. Keeping himself sane. And the half-lided greed in Choso’s eyes told you that he’d fuck you all proper right here and right now if he could. “N-nothing- just making sure of somethin’, my wife. Making sure that you can take me.”

Oh.

This was far from over. You were fucked.

And you were completely and utterly sure of it even if the topic of an…heir didn’t come up for the next few days after that.

Not that you didn’t think about it, though - it was hard not to, when your fatally notorious husband showed such a tender side of himself with his younger brothers.

With you.

And soon enough even through all the bustling meetings and duties of a madam, you’re still figuring out a way to tell Choso that you really weren’t kidding about what you said during that wedding reception.

Sure, you were drunk on his fingers but - that wasn’t just all, was it?

But you’d sorely underestimated just how busy a clan leader could get. And before you knew it, putting off the conversation for the morning after your wedding night had turned into putting it off for the weekend.

Then putting it off for next week. Two weeks.

All the way until you’re trudging along the winding corridors of the Kamo Estate during the most unholy hours of the night. Grumbling groggily to yourself about how you’d finally told him and it had ended supremely well - in a dream, that is.

Choso had been absent for almost the entire day today, attending an important land negotiation with a far-off clan, according to Jin.

Now, you knew just how powerful your husband was - it was impossible to escape the legends and rumors, in fact - and you trusted him. Still, you couldn’t help but toss and turn the entire night away in your coldly empty bed as you wondered just how safe he would get home.

You’d been to such veiled conferences before, after all.

And it’s simply pure worry that has you dragging yourself out of your king-sized bed to shuffle into the barely-lit kitchen. Stifling half-blindly in the moonlight through cabinets and coolers to find ah! Exactly what you’ve been looking for.

Thank goodness this place was empty right now, you didn’t know if you could handle it if the chef was here to lecture you about balanced diets when you’re bites deep into your sugary, shaved icing.

And it’s exactly with this thought in mind that you hear a loud thud! emanating from the far end of the hallway. Your eyes widen, ears searching for more-

Footsteps.

At this time? Your fingers itch towards the sparkling display of knives tucked in one corner of the granite counter. Ready to aim for that tall approaching shadow, ready to fling just as Choso had taught you when-

“Baby?”

“Oh–” Your breath comes out in a heavy gust of relief, eyes unable to tear away from the shaded outline of your husband, taking up every inch of the doorway. “It’s just you, Cho.”

It was. But there was something about Choso that seemed…different. Off.

But not in a bad way - your eyes rover appreciatively over the tautly flexed muscles of his upper half, peeking out almost-blasphemously where he’d shrugged the upper half of his deep purple yukata off.

Glinting bow and arrow stained with crimson, held in one tightly-gripped hand. Your nose wrinkles at the slight, dangerous scent of something metallic. Something not his.

Yet, you can’t help but ogle the slow path of dewdropped sweat trailing down between the curvaceous bulge of his heaving pecs, bumping up and down over his washboard abs, before disappearing below-

It’s like you’re being bolted with an instant flash of lightning as soon as this happens, snapping your eyes over to find Choso’s weighty ones. And oh- the moment you do it’s like something in him melts.

THUD!

You’re jumping when his weapons hit the floor - uncaring of whether this might alert anyone else in the household, uncaring of anything other than crossing the sizzling distance between the two of you in three urgent strides.

You don’t even have the time to process it before Choso halts right before you and falls to his knees. Dark lashes fluttering up at you, he echoes, “Baby.”

Like a broken little mantra.

“Ch-Choso- baby-” It’s just about the only thing you can manage out through hollowed gasps when he’s immediately digging two hands on either side of your hips to easily and pliably seat you on the icy counter. Just where he wanted. “-what’s gotten into you?”

“Dunno.” He’s garbling out, and you’re letting your boneless legs tumble further and further open to let him bury his face right at his favorite place - into your fluttering cunt. “Was jus’ thinking about you alllll day.”

And you could tell.

Because Choso’s every movement was depraved. Jerky. His sensory fingertips trembling when they card underneath your cottony sleep garments, bringing it up to his canines to rip–!

All with his mouth.

“Fuh-fuck-” You’re squealing at the sudden hit of cold air - followed very closely by a scorching hot breeze overtaking every inch of your cunt when Choso leans in and sniffs. Long, hard. Curdling out a feral keen at the back of his throat, “-that’s so filthy, baby.”

“Nothing’s filthy for me if s’you, madam.” At the glint of something slobbering and sharp, you can tell that he’s grinning. “If s’you or…her.”

He was enamored with your ready core, curving a gentle thumb down the glossy edges to give your driveling hole a good trickle of spittle.

And Choso Kamo knew he had perfect aim - he knew he didn’t have to make a mess.

But oh, he couldn’t keep himself from tilting his head just degrees to the side to let the splatters leave dripping wet splotches down your saturated folds, your inner thighs.

Tongue so long, lolling out drunkenly to smear away that filthy excess. He’s poking heated ounces again and again back into your soppy entrance. You were practically flooding torrents of sweet, sweet juices around him, already making a mess that lacquers his dimpled chin.

You were always so sweet - so good for him. And he can feel his ears pop already with the greedy anticipation of what he was craving to do.

“Think you missed me, too.” He’s snickering, teeth sinking down onto the fleshy nub of your clit. It’s enough to make you want to sob. “Didn’t ya?”

Gyrating your hips in such hypnotizing little swivels off of the smooth counter, you’re feeling his candied breaths hit your gummy walls even deeper. Sloppier. Whimpering out, “Yes- yes. Missed you so badly, Cho–”

“Oh yeah?” He’s tensing up the dexterous edge of his tongue to swipe up unhurried skids of his roughened tastebuds around and around your quivering entrance. In and out. Syrupy slick leaking in heaps right as he does, Choso tilts his head back to let those gooey masses slide down his throat. “Mmm— you’re wetter than usual, baby. How badly do you want the ngh- clan leader on his knees for you, hm?”

It was true - and Choso can feel something coiling and coiling heatedly at the base of his stomach at the idea of giving you perhaps…a kid…or two to make sure you’re not so lonely anymore.

Ah, he was pussydrunk.

“So- too badly.” You don’t think you’d ever be babbling away like this if Choso wasn’t making out with your needy cunt like that.

You’re tangling your fingers hastily into his dark, silken locks - gripping desperately onto his sweat-dampened scalp as you use up all your strength and push. All the way until the very tip of Choso’s button nose was meeting your pulsing clit in a harsh smooch, his chin smacking the teary ends of your cunt.

Words tremoring against the very outer ring of your puffy pussy, silvery strings of saliva n’ sap break off when Choso mutters, “Was talkin’ to her, y’know?”

Fuck.

And you think you would be huffing and puffing about how he was talking with your dousingly wet cunt instead of you.

That is, if you weren’t talking back to him from between your legs.

Because the only thing louder than the slack-jawed ah! ah! ah! leaving your lips with every repeated thrust of Choso’s tongue, was the sound of your soppy squelches. “Ohhh- so that’s how your day was? Tell me more…”

So loud - so embarrassing that you can feel your heart race.

And Choso’s was, too, but for a much more lecherous reason as his tongue clashes even harder to draw out those very same pretty noises from you. He was craning his ears closer - he was addicted.

“Yeah- yeah, tha’s right.” Choso’s groaning, eyes faltering droopily until they were almost shut at the way his husking growls only make you wetter. Well, he could help with that. Hitting your hot core with wad after weighty wad of even more sugary spit. “Thaaaat’s fuckin’ right, missed how mouthy you hah- are. My talkative girl.”

“Cho- ngh!” You’re biting down on your tongue to hold back your words when Choso raises up a hand to leave a solid spank right on your bloated pussymound.

He’s nodding along, head lurching intoxicatedly ever closer and closer. Wiping away a glistening streak of slick painted over his blushing cheeks - his blushing cheeks. “That’s right- would’ve made a- haaaah- a whole lotta b-better points than that stupid council does.”

Before pecking a lingering French kiss on your throbbing clit like a lover would.

And you count one, two, three- partway through four before Choso seems to remember that he’s still in the middle of his conversation with your cute cunt. It’s rude to leave her hanging, he’s pondering.

“Well-” Stringing himself away with such a pained grunt, cerise lower lip plumping out in a pout at the mere thought of being away from you. “-better points than that stupid council d-did. They won’t be making aaaaany comments ‘bout you anymore, madam.”

Your leaden eyelids struggle to flitter open, “Wh-what do you ngh- mean, baby?”

But the only response you get is a quick staccato of swats at your leaky slit, before Choso’s curling in a thick thumb past your watering lips and in to your slicked entrance. Followed by the delicious drag of his lengthy tongue doubly slipping back inside.

Thrust after thrust.

So extensive that he was skimming across all your ridges, mapping out every sweet spot of yours on his mouth. Your adhesive walls were clinging onto him like a vice, sappy mushes making him pry apart your thighs even more through furrowed brows.

“Jus’- just means-” He can’t even bear to speak. To break off from stretching you staggeringly open. Your legs wrap mindlessly around Choso’s ravenous head, “-means I don’t let anyone- hah- say anythin’ about my wife.”

Without a second thought, your eyes find his splayed-out arrows on the floor. The way they were sullied with red…

Oh.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything other than let your head jerk backwards, muffing out slight whimpers when he alternates in such sloppy measures between swirling the fattened expanse of his tongue all over every possible spot of your gummy walls and sucking on your clit like his favorite candy.

“They won’t say- do- anythin’—” In so deep now that all you could make out were numerous wet gurgles. And the pure, unadulterated love in Choso’s tone when he twists his thumb to graze right against your bruised and battered g-spot. Hard. “Not when I love her so much.”

He’s gonna raise your kids to love you just as damn much.

And when you cum, you think you might be sobbing - you’re shaking.

Flurries of stars bursting behind your eyes as you dig your fingers through your husband’s perspired strands. Keening out, “Fuck- m’cumming- m’cumming–”

“I know I know.” He smirks hotly against your puffy pussy lips, so close that you could feel the cratered dimple of his grin. “Yer cute cunt told me, baby– heh- wouldn’t mind being welcomed ah- home by my wife like this every day.”

He lets himself be manhandled, pulled and pushed to your every whim. One of the strongest clan leaders whimpering - whimpering - when you pull just a bit too hard to mash his cushiony mouth in a deeper kiss.

Hot. Sappy.

You’re still shaking with sparking bouts of heat that rush down and up your spine, legs twitching when Choso pulls away with a loudly kissed mwah! Overly exaggerated just to see that shy, fucked-out expression on your face.

He was so unfairly pretty like this - a delicate red blush burning all over his face, eyes half-lidded like he was feverish. A shimmery spray of your juiced slick drips down his chin, his bruised lips, all the way up to his regal cheekbones.

He made a mess. And he was wearing it like a badge of honor.

Rising up, up, up to shutter your ajar jaw and plant a drenching kiss. Choso always left your mind so melty and stupid no matter what he did.

“Do you…do you want some hngh- sh-shaved ice?” You’re babbling with your cottony tongue, unsure of what exactly to say after something as intense as…that.

“Nah-” One kiss. Another Two. Five. “-I jus’ had something a whooole lot sweeter, madam.”

Right now it was so quiet in your kitchen. Just you, Choso, and the gleaming moonlight illuminating his pussydrunken enchantment. Even more so than usual.

You’re glissading your arms around his sweat-matted neck, reeling him in even closer. He smells so good, piney cologne searing your senses even despite that tint of iron. Nervously musing, “Hmmm, wonder if s’always gonna be like hah- this whenever I get…cravings.”

Well- it wasn’t exactly what you wanted to say, but, better than nothing.

“Cravings, huh?” Choso’s eyes twinkle - and you’re not sure if that’s a result of the muted lighting or because of what you just said. Hopefully the latter.

“Well- well just saying I wouldn’t mind if-”

Cutting yourself off, you’re sure it’s the latter when he rests a massive palm, warm against your tummy. Just for a split-second before tucking his big, strong arms underneath your body and propping you in an easy princess carry. “If you have cravings then I’d be the one cooking for ya, my wife. 24/7, at your feet.”

Yeah, you were fucked.

But you never really realized just how much - just how badly - until just a few days later; seated on the polished hardwood floor of the famed Kamo archery dojo.

It was routine for your husband to practice his pinpoint precise shooting, and by now it was your routine to watch him.

How could you not? Because it was such a heavenly sight.

Choso’s pristine, white yukata unravelled at one muscular shoulder; showing off the rippling curves and dips of his sculptured back. Strong. His honed eyes filmed with a focus he only ever gets in bed. Adonis-like biceps bulging in a lecherous little flex when he draws the string back, back, back and lets go-

“YES!” Yuji’s resounding cheer thunders across the vast chamber with way too much volume than a six-year-old should possibly have. “Let’s goooo- big bwother hit the target again.”

A simpering smile stretches across your lips as soon as he turns to you for reassurance, gesturing out a slow nod at the way Choso keeps piercing bullseye after bullseye. “He did, your brother is very talented, Yuji.”

Humming, “When I grow up m’gonna be just like him.”

“Of course.” You’re chuckling at his enthusiasm - the youngest of your husband’s brother’s always did have a special spot in your heart. And you can’t help but wonder when - if - you had an heir with Choso, whether they would be much the same. “You are his brother, after all.”

You’re frantically hovering your hands behind him once he bustles to a haphazard stand. Stumbling only a few times as he races over to the neat line of inventory, “Then- I’ll be just like him now.”

“Be careful!”

Ah, he really was a handful - which meant, you really didn’t expect it to go over perfectly smoothly. You’d known that simply wouldn’t have been possible as soon as you met Itadori Yuji.

Yet, you didn’t expect everything to go so wrong in just a mere matter of seconds.

Before you can even blink, Yuji’d tottered his way over to one particularly large, wooden bow - one used only by Ryomen Sukuna whenever he visited. Puffing out his chest as he reeled out the massively heavy weapon - overly heavy, way too much for even the most determined child-

CRASH!

“Yuji!” You don’t know who yelps louder - you, or Choso. But with your proximity, you’re the one that reaches him first, cradling the sniffling boy in your arms.

You jostle away the weighty bow - honestly, how he even managed to lift this in the first place you have no idea.

“Awww, don’t cry don’t cry–” You’re cooing, distantly registering the worried pants of his older brother skidding to a stop beside you. He always did have him curled around his little finger. Pushing away the pinkish curls from his forehead, “-you’re alright. See? You’re alright.”

“Are you hurt? Are you dizzy? Are you feeling nauseous-”

“Choso.” You warn, catching the way Yuji’s eyes widen in panic.

Taking a few deeply necessary breaths to calm down. “You- don’t do that-” Choso’s hissing, but you could practically feel the worry seeping into his tone. Thumbing slow circles on his aching shoulders, “-ask me for a bow instead.”

You have to bite back a grin - with the watery glaze taking over his eyes, you wondered who was really hurt - Yuji or Choso himself.

“M’sorry big bwother.” Blubbering through big, pearly tears that dry salty streaks down his chubby cheeks. He’s batting those lashes in a way you’re sure gets him out of any sort of trouble. Ever. The full, merciless force of it hits your poor heart as Yuji turns to you. “Sorry, mama.”

Mama.

You freeze. Choso freezes.

Hell, even the twittering birds outside freeze mid-song.

It seems like everyone in the entire world freezes except for an oblivious Yuji who only continues inching his tiny hands closer towards that guilty bow. Clearly not having learned his lesson - but you didn’t even register that right now.

You’re staring at Choso, only to find that he’s staring right back. Droopy eyes uncharacteristically wide, blinking rapidly - it didn’t even look like he was breathing right now.

Maw parting and closing stupidly agape, and you’re almost tempted to reach out and check whether he’s doing okay - before he finally finds his voice again. Finally. Husking out a choked-out, “W-well- maybe we should- ah- should-” He’s turning towards his contrastingly okay younger brother, “Yuji?”

“Big bwother!” Comes the, unfortunately, helpless answer.

And something in his beaming expression seems to jolt Choso out of his reverie, something that makes him let out a tight nod. Scooping up the giggling boy over his shoulder, he calls out at you, “Wait here.”

As Choso walks out of the doorway, you could only watch.

Only sit there for what could be four seconds - or maybe even four hundred years - until he’d presumably dropped off Yuji at the safety of Jin. Taking steady, focused strides back to you that thud! thud! thud! right along to the beat of your racing heart.

Choso’s expression is blank - pale as if he’s seen a fucking ghost. And he doesn’t even look at you, can’t even bear to once he walks back to the thickened air of the dojo. Now pointedly alone.

Very, very alone.

Wordlessly, he picks up his famed bow. And you swear that you can see his practiced hands tremble. Something was happening.

It’s like an artwork that you can’t look away from. The fluid motion of aligning a singular arrow to aim for his final, rounded target. Doughy pads of his fingers pinching the string back, back, back until it snaps!

And misses. For the first time in years.

“Fuck.”

You barely have the time to compute - to even suck in a gasp of surprise before your husband comes and crashes into you. It’s as if he was magnetized and couldn’t get away even if he wanted to.

It’s a frenzy of white billowing sleeves and powerful arms, throwing you over Choso’s shoulder in only two seconds flat - much the same way that he’d done with Yuji moments prior.

Except more…urgent.

“Choso- Cho!” You’re squealing, as he lurches into hurried treads away. Legs kicking weakly in the air, only for your stubborn self to be granted with an unapologetic spank! right on the mound of your ass. Your nose crinkles as his long, inky locks tickle your face, “What is-”

“Be quiet.” Choso’s rasping, so small that it could not have been more than a whisper. So close that you’re drinking in heady wafts of his masculine cologne.

Something in his snarling tone makes your stomach tighten. Digits grappling precariously onto the toned curves of his shoulders, your fingertips slide down the sweltering expanse of his exposed skin.

And only too late do you recognize the familiar pathway towards your shared bed chamber- oh.

So that was what it was.

And judging by the dark, primal look swimming in the clan leader’s eyes you could only hope that you made it out alive-

SLAM!

You don’t know what’s forcing you more out of your excited little reverie - the shuddered slam! of your mahogany double doors, so hard that it makes the golden hinges shake, or the way you’re thrown haphazardly on the bed.

Like some glorified toy. One of Choso’s favorites.

You’re throwing your arms over his broad shoulders as you fall, lugging him in even closer with each springy bounce on the bedcoils.

But closer wasn’t close enough for your husband - he’s bullying into every ounce of your personal space, caging you in between two splayed-out palms on either side of your thoroughly spinning head.

“Mama, is it?” Choso starts out. Slow. Thick. Like he was approaching a cornered prey. “Baby, I want…I want it.”

You’re blinking up at him through eager eyes, “Want what, Cho?”

“I want an heir. I want to make you…” He gulps. The circles of his fingertips were so warm on your skin, trailing down lovingly all across your cheek. Your collarbones, your heaving tits - down to where you predictably flinched as he palmed your tummy. “-a pretty momma.”

Fawny strands of chestnut brown curtain his gaze, but you could tell just how serious he was. Just how greedy. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Choso like this in his entire life.

All you can breathe out is a crackling, “Yes.”

You said it. You finally said it after all these weeks.

And it’s the only thing you hear before your yukata is all but torn off of you, Choso doesn’t even realize when he’s doing so. It’s melting away like butter underneath his strength, mere obstacles to where the real prize is - your gorgeous, shivering body.

Pebbles of goosebumps rise onto the surface of your flesh when he throws away those useless pieces of fabrics onto the tatami floor - you can have more newly tailored anyway. Many, many more with just how round and full you’re about to be very soon.

He’d take care of it for you.

“Oh, madam- madam.” He’s spitting into your unfastened mouth, low growls sounding out across each four corners of your room. Held hostage by the arousal in your eyes, he can’t stop staring. “M’gonna ruin you.”

And Choso is feral like never before.

Usually one to take his time during sex, finetuning you into it like a sultry waltz. His favorite hobby was to drive you mindlessly wild before he even thought of stuffing you full. But now…

Still not breaking his dreamy eye contact with you, Choso hooks a rapidfire finger over the cute bow-tied hem of your panties. Slurring down an oozing little snail trail of slick that laminates your jittery thighs with evidence of just how badly you wanted him.

You feel the blistering pant of his mindless oh! fanning your features, leaning backwards with a loosened maw to admire just how glistening you are in this lighting.

How ready.

With a low, fucked-up whimper breaking at the back of his throat, he rubs over the bloated curvature of your needy pussy. Slipping ever-so-slightly at the saturated puddles leaking out, Choso has no hesitation or shame when he tugs his fingerpads into his mouth once.

Twice. Thrice.

Dipping back down for more and more and more-

“Can’t-” He’s guttering out, eyes crinkling and- fuck, were those tears? “I c-”

You reach your hand up to smear away his hot rivulets of salt, and Choso stops his prattling like a broken record forced to a halt. He jolts as if your touch has just sent a zillion shocks of voltage down his spine, all the trekking trailway down to his furious, aching cock.

Unsteady hands flinging apart his snowy robes - barely even bothering to remove them and wrench down his undergarments before you see it. You finally understand why Choso was so…restless.

Because he’s never been harder.

Fuck being furious, his bawling cock was seething. Equally as red as the ripest of strawberries, the split-ended crown of his cockhead was just as plumply swollen. All proud inches nestled underneath his painfully-clenching breeder balls, ballooned and lush. Only the barest of your gaze is enough to make Choso’s lustrous tip twitch, laminating himself with a freshly dripping glaze of translucent pre.

Though, it’s not like you were doing any better.

Your gluey lips pucker and pout up at him once he’s wrangling your legs into a boneless hold. The feeling of his palms underneath your thighs are so soft - even despite his battle-hardened calluses. Worshipping.

But the way he’s resting your legs on his shoulders, and folding you in half like a whining lawnchair is the complete opposite. Mercilessly into a-

“M-mating press-” Choso’s getting out through strangled breaths, as if the sole words had his poor sanity fraying at the edges. “-mating press- a- a-” Something he’s never tried out before. His head dips down, pearls of sweat simmering across his trembly upper lip as soon as your sticky folds leave a wet snog on his fattened mushroomy tip. Topping it with a generous heap of honeyed sap, “Well, hello there, baby. I have you in a mating press n’ m’gonna…gonna…”

He couldn’t even finish his sentence.

Couldn’t even finish his thought before Choso was doing - body moving miles and miles ahead of his stupidly saccharine-sweet mind.

“F-fuuuuck–” You’re letting off the keenest of whines, the edges of your nails leaving neat crescents all over his toned back. It was the perfect little present for the way he had you so split open.

And he was barely even pushing past the tip.

“Oh. Oh.” Choso’s grunts are throaty, as if they weren’t coming from the man himself but somewhere murked and dark inside him. And the same went for his feverish thrusts - tight, rigid little pushes past your slicked-up hole just to fit inside. He’s spitting into your slacked mouth, “C’mon- c’mon c’mon–”

Usually, it takes so long to prepare you to take his nine- no, ten inches. But currently, fast just wasn’t fast enough.

There’s a thundering slam! abovehead - only hours and hours later do you have enough brainpower to realize that it was Choso striking his palm down on the headboard - and it makes your clingy walls grip onto the battering mountain of his dewy head.

Squeezing in a repeatedly adhesive-like tempo, Choso’s nose crinkles at the rubbery resistance of your snug hole. Still molding to the slightest curves and ridges of his drowned slit with every desperate rut-

“Please- take it- fucking take it.” His voice was trembling on the edge of a crack, thickened exactly the way one does when he’s about to cry. “H-how can I fuck! How can I breed ya…if I don’t-”

And you’re swearing you see his ruddied cheeks glisten with a few slipped-off tears - though, that just might be from the way that your own vision mists over when his stray hand plugs up your spilling entrance to pry two thickened, scissoring digits inside and stretch. “Fucking- take that big fuckin’- cock-”

Bullying in a few more long n’ girthy inches- You’re so full that it feels like Choso’s pushing his bloated crownhead against the spongy edges of your lungs.

The bed dips and moans with frequent soft creaks! when he plants his curved knees firmly further apart. Flexibly so. And you’re getting a good, greedy eyeful of his pale, bulky thighs - angling at the perfect bend to snap his slender hips and jackhammer-

“Sh-shit-” Your head sinks into the cushiony pillows underneath you, and it already feels like you’re in heaven. “-don’t- don’t know if it’ll fit, Cho–”

With a bitten lip, Choso rovers down his sturdy hand from the surface of the bedframe to measure out ten solid inches. Bringing it down much the same way he did during your wedding reception, “Y-you can, baby–”

“But-”

“You will.” He’s gasping, gracing you with a soft brush of his curvaceous mushroomed head along one of your utmost favorite hidden sweet spots. It’s enough to make you buck. “Gonna take my cock, n’ you’re gonna haaah- take my seed ‘ntil you’re bloated. So I’ll make it fit- fuck- watch, I’ll make it fit.” Before you know it, that very same hand finds itself crowning your head, threatening to push you down- “C-can you say hngh- ‘biiiig stretch’ f’me?”

You’re hiccuping out, “B-big stretch?”

“Nuh uh-” By the time that Choso shakes his head, you’re being sprinkled with loose flecks of his sweat. He was in so deep now. “Say it with me- b-biiig stretch, baby–”

“B-biiig- stretch!” It takes you everything in your body to hold your own against the vicious pounds being planted and struggled into your goopy depths. Choso was determined. Frenzied.

And god, the way you’re dumbly parroting his words is so hot. He can’t help but dollop out muggy icings of pre that slosh and swab at every nook and cranny inside you.

“Good girl.” Rewarding you with a slow heart being patterned right on the throbbing peak of your clit, the roughened edges of his fingertips rub you just right. Not too hard. Not too soft. Your husband nuzzles his flushed head into the havened crook of your clammy neck, “S-say it again, madam.”

“Biiig-”

Honestly, it’s a wonder you manage to get exactly two syllables out at all. Because soon enough, Choso’s taking your distracted few seconds to lace his fingers onto your scalp push. To bump his hips back until your geysering cunt was struggling around his fat, bulbous tip.

Before stuffing you full all the way in-

“Fuck- no.” Choso’s spitting out venomously against your thrumming pulse, sharp fringes of his teeth digging in animalistically. Bottomed out but still pushing and pushing- Slamming a lazy stripe of luscious precum down your spongy cervix, “No- no no–”

No sooner are you full of all his massive, rummaging length, he’s making you take even more. This time in the form of dribbling, ribbony volumes of cum that leak and leak and won’t stop from his heated divot.

It’s ballooning up your tight channel even more. Swashing around and sticking to your gummy walls like a treacly lacquer. Filling you to your very brim-

“S-so much.” You’re gaping, through tear-strung lashes. The shivering edges of your fingers subconsciously dance downwards to splotch over the puddling globs of seed tricking from either side of your sloppy slit. Squeezing out even more to coat Choso’s bulky base with creamy rings upon rings.

And, usually, your husband might be just a bit embarrassed. Usually, he would have pulled out to make out with your pretty pussy until your scores were more than tied.

But that wasn’t your husband right now.

“Don’t.” Choso clicks his drunkenly heavy tongue, lips pulling back into what almost looks like an oh-so-feral snarl. And you have to admit that it looks so sexy on him. He’s rudely swatting away your curious hand, “Move that fucking hand n’ let me see.”

It takes only a split-second for both your hands to be pinned underneath one of Choso Kamo’s.

“Tha’s not enough to take.”

And only one more split-second for him to flip you over onto your tummy and stuff your head into the cushy pillows.

He’s fucking you like he’s using you. Like he’s pumping his mushy, swollen head to nudge in the weighty heft of his cum deeper and deeper and deeper-

“Y’know I hate hngh- disrespectin’ my wife, baby–” He leans over to sigh against your ear in craving hisses, pinning you with his body. His muscles. You could count each n’ every one of Choso’s bulging abs, glissading damply against your perfectly arched spine. Bubblegum pink nipples pressed roughly into your scorching skin, “Hate it- but…”

You gasp at Choso’s audacity next - at the way it makes you so traitorously soaked when he hikes up one of his feet to rest upon your head.

Gurgling out a stupid. “Ch-Cho–”

But he didn’t seem to hear you - you didn’t know if he was even managing to breathe at this point. Only letting his devious lips twitch up, up, up into such a satisfied grin. “-but ‘ntil I get my hngh- heh…heir, you’re gonna hafta be my cumdump, madam.”

And if the saturated slurps singing out at a near-deafening tone from your dripping pussy said anything - it was that you loved the idea.

Especially when the changed angle makes his scouring cockhead maze between the most treasured spots of your jelly-like walls to strike numerous, merciless hits dead-set on your g-spot.

Ah, there it was, pipes up that small voice in Choso’s overtaken brain. Jostling your hips back onto his with a sudden spank on the target of your drivelling hole, the stinging pressure makes you bump your tenderest spots again and again into his ruthless batters.

It’s bruising - the proud circumference of his plummy cock against your elastic cervix with every recoiling bounce, the rounded patterns of his balls against the hind of your pretty pussy with each thrust.

If you didn’t think you were being fucked stupid before then you were sure now.

Your velveteen pillowcase dampens with the ever-flooding saliva spilling from your mouth every time Choso rears his aching shaft back to plant rapid, precise strikes where you wanted him the most.

Whimpering at how every ramming dab of his split cockhead leaves leakages of pearly white cum all over the bottom of your pussy. That sultry swirl of his dumped heaps inside of you making your head spin just as dizzily.

You almost don’t notice it when Choso’s drifting both hands to skirt over about halfway down your tummy. Feeling for that bloated, cylindrical outline of him vulgarly messing up your insides, “Gonna be e-even fuller here soon, y’know-” He’s giggling - giggling. Erratically letting his hands slide down to your clit to give the peaked ends just a tiny pinch. “-have you all round. Full. Full-”

He can’t say anything else.

He can’t do anything else - other than watch in purely entranced awe when that makes you cum all over his fucking cock.

So big n’ thick that your claggy walls can barely even squeeze around his throbbing shaft. The thought makes you huff as he rams rigorously through your blinding high - teeth grit, your fingers fist at the pillows and make sure you can clench-

When you do- oh, when you manage to cling your gummy cunt onto his girth as if to suck out his fucking soul, it makes Choso cum, too.

Fatigued hips somehow matching his cadence, your knees shiver on top of the softened mattress stuttering through every dousing mass of cum gliding inside your cute cunt. It was so heavy having his massive torrentials inside of you, spraying the door to your womb with a slippery sheen.

It was maddening.

And maybe it’s been hours - maybe it’s been mere minutes. But all you know is that you’re put through rounds and rounds and more rounds. But he’s still not stopping. Still dredging out the tiniest of hollowing grinds.

Until much, much later Choso’s breath hitches in feverish stutters. It was so steamily hot inside you, only getting more humid by the minute as you ride out yet another crashing high.

“G’na milk e-every ngh- drop-” He titters, fleshy edges of his fingers closing in around where your pussylips were the most buxom. The most leaky. “-n’ you’re gonna ngh- keep it. Keep ‘ntil you give me an h-heir. Remember that, baby– keep it.”

You’re fighting against the weight of his muscular leg on top of you. Was he clamming your pussy shut?

“Choso, baby.” Your straining out, throat drier than the Sahara at this point. Even despite how the hypnotized way your husband looks at you makes your tongue lather with watery saliva. “Want- want more.”

You think you might just have broken Choso Kamo.

Might just have made him reach another surprising high all over again with just your simple request. He’s lifting off the powerfully pressurized foot crowned on your head in favor of lurching downwards to grab your tender throat into a headlock.

Manhandling you as he pleased. Lifting you off of the tattered pillow, the completely splintered bed frame now.

Your chin juts over his thick, bulging biceps, fighting for both air and the space-

“More- more, she says-” He’s chuckling out, words cracking a few octaves higher than normal. From the corner of your eye, you sneak glimpses at the way that Choso’s eyes were wide, crazed. Flashing all sorts of feral promises when he plants one, two, three long thuds against your soppy cervix. “Fucking- m-more.”

You’re letting off a tiny whimper - your orgasm nothing but tingles at this point. Yearning for that the piping hot streak of seed flushed into your already-overspilling cunt. Syruping in with the rest of his numerous goopy volumes, it’s thick and needy.

Only one.

“Sh-shit.” He’s wheezing against your ear, free hand flying down to tug at his reddened base for more more more- one’s not enough. Every possibly wiry wisp and speckle that could fill you up. Could give him an heir. “Can’t cum dry- won’t- oh.”

Rutting into you like Choso won’t stop - didn’t know if he even can stop anymore. You flinch at the suddenly hot splatter! of something warm…and wet at your shoulder.

“Cho- oh!” Not only was the clan leader drooling out glossy spatters of saliva, he was crying. Hugging you even closer, you’re showered in neverending streams of overstimulated tears.

And Choso can only babble away, “Hope- hope s’a daughter, madam.”

A/N. AYYY y’all have been wanting more dom Choso saurrrr- Anyways hope you have a lovely week <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

#choso x reader #choso smut #choso x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #choso #tonywrites #choso kamo

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bi-writes · 7 months ago

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who to call to clean up after an "accident" than your sick and twisted military boyfriend? :D (dark!ghost x dark!fem!reader, 18+)

cw: dark!reader, dark!simon, horror movie vibes, graphic depictions of character death/murder, unhealthy relationship dynamics, one slip of daddy, smut, unprotected piv, simon "spit in my mouth" riley, reader and simon are kinda psycho :D

you've been so nice to her. really nice. you've let it slide off your back whenever she doesn't do her dishes. you pretend you don't notice when she borrows your shoes from the hallway and wears them out to dinner. you hide yourself in your room when she has her awful, loud guests over, and you have never once said anything about how she takes her sweet time in the shared bathroom in the morning and makes you late 2 days a week for work.

but this? this?

she needs to keep simon's name out of her fucking mouth.

"excuse me?" you say finally. your roommate is shrugging on her jacket to leave, her purse in her hand as she types on her phone, using it as a way to not make eye-contact with you. her long nails are tapping against the screen, and it feels like fucking drip water torture. "what the fuck did you just say?"

she sighs, irritated, rolling her eyes as she keeps tapping away at the screen.

"you're so dramatic, it was just a fucking joke."

"you know, i let a lot of things slide," you laugh, humorlessly, and you cross your arms over your chest as you follow her into the kitchen. "but you need to be careful what you say."

"i don't do anything except call it like i see it," she says, tossing her hair over her shoulder and looking at herself in the reflection of the mirror hanging on the wall. "you need to just...go out more. man like that isn't gonna stay for long if you don't give him something to go for. he's bored, you know. when you have him over here all the time. and i've totally caught him peeking at me after i shower, y'know."

"well why the fuck are you wearing nothing but a towel when my boyfriend is here, anyways?" you snap. "he's trying to be polite, he's a guest. what if i wore a fucking towel when you had your guy friends over?"

she laughs, poking at the edge of her lip to fix the gloss of her pout. "trust me, honey, no one's looking at you in a towel."

you step back, a little shocked. she rolls her eyes again, sighing.

"i didn't--"

"are you kidding me?" you retort. "you're the worst fucking roommate in the world, and i put up with all your bullshit, and now you're going to go so low as to insult the way i look just to make yourself feel better?" you make your way around the kitchen island. "you don't wash your fucking dishes, you steal my fucking clothes, you're always late on your rent so i have to spot you--"

"you know what, just because i'm fucking happy, and you're not, doesn't mean you have to take it out on me!"

"i am happy, you sorry bitch!" you cry. "i'm so fucking happy, you're the only thing in my life making me constantly miserable!"

"oh, shove it up your ass, you ungrateful little shit!" she snaps. "you're just so fucking insecure and hate me so badly just because simon would rather fuck a girl like me than have to spend another minute with--"

the crack of cast iron against her head shuts her up. it dents the side of her head easily, and her face smacks against the countertop before she crumples to the floor.

it's so fast. one minute, she's yapping, high-pitched voice straining your ears. the next, she's silent.

and she won't say simon's fucking name again.

you watch with bated breath as she folds into herself, her head hitting the hardwood last, a slow puddle of blood beginning to grow under the tendrils of her hair as your eyes move to the heavy pan you're still holding in your hands.

fuck, that's a lot of blood. god, you thought she was just full of fucking air.

you drop the pan once the rush of anger leaves your chest. it thunks onto the ground, and your hands shake as you see the specks of blood that are on the back of your hands, sprinkled over the shirt you wear. it stains your bare legs, even your toes, and you don't even want to look at the spray of it along the counters.

you should be crying, you think. you should feel bad. you're trembling a little, but you think it's just the adrenaline beginning to fade and not the guilt you know is supposed to be racking your insides.

you turn your eyes back to her. her eyes are dull. she doesn't move. it's so quiet now, utterly silent, and you take a deep breath as you take in the silence that you've craved for a long while now. you make your way quietly out of the kitchen, stepping over her body before going for your phone that sits on the coffee table in front of the couch.

you keep your eyes on her as you put your phone to your ear. it rings, and you tilt your head to the side as the blood begins to spiderweb under the kitchen table.

"'ello?"

you blink, looking towards the door. you clutch your phone a little tighter to your ear.

"simon?" you say softly. "a-are...are you busy?"

he hums lowly, chuckling, "no' at the moment, swee'eart, why?" he asks. "mmm...missed y'r voice..." you close your eyes as you hear the buckle of his belt. you try not to picture your giant of a boyfriend leaning back on his worn couch and shoving his jeans low enough to fuck his fist. "tolk t'me, luv...tell me 'ow much ya miss daddy."

you clear your throat gently, willing yourself to ignore the soft squelch of what you know is his hand around his cock, to not let it distract you from what's more important. "uhm...i liked the flowers you gave me, simon. t-they were beautiful."

the sounds on the other end of the phone quiet. you hear shuffling, and then a few moments later, the clink of his car keys.

"tha' right, baby?" he asks, and you close your eyes as you hear the front door of his flat opening. he's already on the way, already coming.

"yeah," you sniffle. "really nice sunflowers."

a yellow flower. he huffs on the other end of the phone, breathing a little easier.

"good girl," he murmurs, and then the line cuts. you set the phone down, making your way back to the kitchen and taking a seat at the table. you watch as the blood continues to curl over the floor. you make no attempt to help her; you just swing your feet under you as you look at her spoiled outfit, just grateful she isn't wearing your shoes or one of your jackets. you would hate to have to throw something out that she got all dirty.

there's a curt knock at the door ten minutes later, and then it opens. simon shuts the door behind him, cracking his neck by moving it from side to side before narrowing his eyes at you. you bite your lip, blinking, forgetting suddenly why he is here when he looks so fucking good. he's got a sweatshirt on under his windbreaker, worn jeans tucked into his boots; you like these jeans, his ass looks incredible in them.

"wot happened?" he asks. you stand, remembering your place. your lip starts trembling, and simon's eyes soften just a little. he's wearing his balaclava, hood up over his head and jacket zipped up, shadowing any true expression on his face. his gait sounds heavy as he lets his hands out of his pockets, coming towards you. when he steps into the kitchen, his eyes dart towards your roommate who's still on the floor, laid out unnaturally just by the oven.

he lets out a low breath, clicking his tongue under the mask. you hold your breath as you wait for his reaction.

"bloody hell," simon mutters, reaching up and throwing his hood off. you wring your hands together nervously, your eyes beginning to sting with tears. you brace for the accusations, for the inevitable terror of facing the music. simon is military, for fuck's sake, why the fuck did you think turning to him would be a good idea?

"i...i-i--" you start, looking up at him, and he holds up a hand, taking the side of your face into his palm before smoothing a gloved thumb over your bottom lip. you blink in confusion, not understanding.

"'s olright, baby," he shushes you, shaking his head. "don't cry."

"simon, i--" you sputter a little, gripping his wrist gently. "i just--i couldn't do it anymore, she just--"

he pities you. maybe you can explain. maybe if you tell him a warped story of what happened, he can help you. he must know someone. he must have important friends, he must--

he uses his free hand to move his mask up over his nose, and you lean into him when he bends, kissing you warmly. your eyes flutter shut, and you shuffle closer as he kisses you sloppy, kisses you hot. you mewl as he slips his tongue into your mouth, licking over your teeth and humming low as he pulls away. his eyes are flashing.

mmm. love.

"hmm..." simon licks his lips, smiling a little. he looks over you, almost pensive, his eyes scanning over your face before he settles back on your eyes. it's tender, the way he looks at you. romantic. "let's get this off of ya."

he reaches for the large shirt you are wearing, pulling it up and over your head. he crumples it into a ball before tossing it on top of your roommate, nodding his head behind you.

it's then that you realize simon isn't going to do the noble thing. he isn't going to call the police. he isn't going to turn you in, make you explain, he seems uninterested in knowing what really happened. no, he already knows what happened. but that's not important.

his pretty, perfect girl got into a little trouble. and he's going to make this go away.

"go on, luv. take a nice shower, yeah?" simon turns you around and pushes on your back gently. you suck in a shaky breath when he fondles your ass, pulling on your panties gently. "mmm...take these off, too."

you slip your panties down your legs, handing them to him.

"they have blood on them, too?" you ask, wiping your face, and he chuckles lowly.

"nah," he shrugs, stuffing them into his back pocket after taking a little sniff. "these are just for me."

jesus fucking christ, there's really something wrong with him. there's something really, really wrong with him.

and something wrong with me.

simon looks you up and down, his eyes catching on your naked body for just a few moments before he nods his head again.

"go on," he tells you. "before i get distracted." you pause for a moment, tilting your head back a little as he reaches out and cups one of your breasts in his big hand. you bite your lip, swallowing back a heavy breath as he flicks his thumb over your nipple gently. "greatest tits 've ever seen," he mumbles, scrunching his nose under the mask before he lets you go. "yeah, go on, baby." it takes everything in you to walk away when you see him reach down with that same hand and grip his bulge through his jeans, adjusting himself as he turns back to the mess in the kitchen.

when you shut the bathroom door behind you, you hear shuffling in the living room. the coffee table scraping. the couch being pushed. the rustle of the rug you have there. he grunts a little, and you hear his boots track from the kitchen back to the living room.

you turn the water on hot. you decide to take a bath, not looking at yourself in the mirror as you sink into the tub and plug the drain. you make the water scalding, and it soothes your sore muscles as you rest your cheek against the edge of the tub and stare at the door.

you're not sure how long you stay there. long enough for the water to nearly slosh over the edge of the tub and for simon to swing the bathroom door open, seemingly done with his...tasks.

he's taken his sweatshirt off. just a black t-shirt tucked into jeans, and there's a slight pant to his breaths that tell you he's exerted some energy. you notice he has his gloves still on, but before he touches you, he takes them off and tosses them into the sink.

"move over," simon mutters, starting to undress. you look up at him as he undoes the button on his pants, shucking his shirt off and into the corner before dropping his jeans. the water swishes as you sit up, and you swallow hard when simon kicks his boots and pants off, his cock hanging heavy as his mask is the last to hit the floor.

fuck, he's so pretty.

he has no regard for his size. he simply steps into the tub behind you, taking a seat. he looks comically large in your small bathtub, and you squeak a little as the water spills over the edge of the bath and wets the floor. he hums as he feels the hot water on his back. you don't say anything as his hands start to turn the water a little red. you just look up, away, at him.

you shuffle between his legs, tucking yourself into his space. you can't help but look him up and down, admiring his naked physique. he's just hot. big arms, thick thighs, sunburnt tattoos and scars cutting across his face. he hasn't shaved today, so there's some stubble along his jaw, but your eyes focus a little too much on his girthy length, heavy as it sits on his stomach and leaks a little there. his fat stomach, all solid and pudgy, such a nice place for you to rest your hands.

"you did good today," simon says finally. you look at him, and he tilts his head to the side. his approval makes your chest warm. "callin' me like tha'. wot a good girl you are."

keeping quiet on the phone is what he doesn't add out loud.

you purse your lips, trying not to keen at the praise, but it's hard not to when he reaches over and slides his hand over your shoulder, thumbing at your jaw.

"i-i didn't...didn't know what to do," you admit, and he clicks his tongue, shaking his head. you didn't know what to do, so you called him. level-headed enough to not do something rash and call someone else, no, you called him.

"mmm...tha's wot i'm 'ere for, luv," simon soothes you. "made such a little mess..."

you close your eyes. it's sick. deranged. fuck, it feels nice.

why don't i feel anything?

"i know. i'm sorry."

"nothin' ta be sorry about."

you slump into his arms, resting your cheek on his solid chest. you can feel his cock pulsing against your tummy, and you adjust yourself in the water, straddling him as you rest your chin on his pecs and look up at him through watery eyes.

you aren't sad. no. not sad at all. simon has shown you what he will do for the you. the lengths he will go. what he'll forgive just to take care of you. he's so capable, so understanding.

sick. twisted. mine.

"then i'll just say thank you," you mumble, grinding your hips slowly. simon hums, a wicked smile coming over his scarred face. he licks over his bottom lip, big hands gripping you by the fat of your hips as you grip the edges of the tub for stability. "say thank you to my big, strong man for taking such good care of me..."

he chuckles, his eyes lowering, watching your tits sway as you fit your pussy over his length and grind down on him.

"tha' so, baby?"

you nod.

"mhm," you whine. "how can i thank you, my big boy? how can i show you how grateful i am for cleaning up after me, hmm?" you bend at the waist, kissing him wet and warm, and he hisses as you suck his tongue into your mouth. he tastes like cigarettes, and normally you would curse him for it, but right now it tastes so much like him, and you lick around his teeth trying to taste more of that sweet nicotine.

"fuck--such a naughty little girl..." he snickers, reaching down. you sigh when he slides his big palms over your ass, forcing you to grind slower, the tip of his cock sliding through your folds leisurely. you grip the edges of the tub tighter, pressing down to give you more leverage to grind down harder. "make such a mess, oll the time..." you gasp when he presses into you just enough, the tip breaching your entrance and forcing you to squeeze around him, your cunt trying to suck him in. "olways needin' me ta pick up afta ya..."

you giggle, sliding your hands up his chest, gripping his shoulders for leverage as you sink down onto him. he grits his teeth as you do, his eyes focused on the way his cock disappears inch by inch until you're seated down in his lap, his length kissing deep and twitching excitedly. he always feels like a teenager again whenever you fuck--like you're the first pretty girl to ever wet his cock.

you cup his cheeks finally, smoothing your thumbs under his eyes as you bring his gaze up to meet yours. you swallow hard, looking down at him.

"i-i love you, simon," you breathe. he stills underneath you, his jaw clenching as he frowns just a little. you come a little closer, nuzzling your nose against his, your thumb falling to trace the outline of his torn lip. "i should've said it a long time ago...i-i..."

"heart's beatin' out y'r chest, luv," he mutters lowly. "'s olright...'m not goin' anywhere."

it's so disgusting. you should be fucking ill. you should be scrambling to the toilet, your breakfast halfway up your throat. you should be crying, emotional, begging simon to tell the cops that it was all your fault, because it is. he should've come here and made you do the level-headed thing and confess your terrible crime.

he shouldn't be here, sitting underneath you in your tub, cock-deep inside of you after helping you commit murder and then fucking clean it all up.

"what did i do?" you gasp, sitting up. you move to get out of the tub, but simon growls, putting two firm hands on your ass and shoving you back down on his cock, making you cry. "w-what did i do? s-simon, why don't i feel bad, why am i not sorry--?!"

simon tsks, feigning comfort. he juts his bottom lip out into a pout, mocking your little cries.

"oh, luvvie, don't start cryin' now," he chuckles. "don't start pretending like y'care."

uhm...

"simon--"

"no one likes a liar."

you're still trying to pretend, and he knows this. you're still trying to act how someone normally would react. someone normal, someone who thinks rationally, would never have picked up the pan in the first place. and even if they had, they would've scrambled, cried, picked up the phone and confessed, called an ambulance as they tried to get her to start breathing again, put both hands on her chest and tried to get her wake up.

but you didn't. you watched, unnervingly calm, as she stained the hardwood with her blood. you watched as her eyes glassed over, lifeless, and you watched as her insides began to paint the floor in abstract shapes as you gave it time to spread. and not once during that time, or waiting for simon, did you think to help her.

you didn't want to help her. and you certainly didn't think she deserved to get back up. maybe she hadn't done anything quite harsh enough to deserve death in someone else's eyes. annoying, overbearing, rude.

but it's hard to feel bad when she talked about simon. when she called him by his name. when you've seen her let her towel slip when he's in her vicinity, trying to coax him into her room when you're looking away.

you should've taken one of the throwing knives that simon hides in his boot and thrown it at her then, just for that.

"we're cut from the same bloody cloth, baby," simon says, almost accusingly. you grip the edges of the tub, trying to stand again, but he cants his hips and fucks up into you, drawing a frenzied moan out of you. you reach for his shoulders as he does it again, his tongue darting out before he licks a fat stripe over your pebbled nipple. "'s olright. 's okay, luv. don't worry. don't hafta get y'r hands dirty, swee'eart, i've got it."

"but simon," you whine, but all he does is shake his head. you don't have to put on this morality act for him. you don't have to pretend that you are sorry for something that you had every right to do, you don't have to explain to him why you aren't feeling the way you should be feeling.

simon doesn't care about how you should feel. he only cares about how you actually feel.

"she was in y'r way," simon grunts. "always bein' a bloody brat." he fists your hair and brings your mouth to his, groaning as you tighten around his cock. "'ow many times did she fuck ya over, baby, hmm? 'ow many times did she steal y'r fuckin' things, come outta the loo wearin' nothin' but her fuckin' knickers, yeah? 'ow many times?"

you kiss him, frantic, digging your nails into his pecs and dragging them angrily.

yeah. fuck her. fuck what she did to me, fuck the way she behaved, fuck her stupid face and her stupid attitude and her stupid little games.

"called ya names..." he's hitting your sweet spot now, making you cry from pleasure. your pussy feels so hot, squeezing him because you know he's right, and the way he fucks this time makes you think he really knows what you are and knows exactly how to get you there. "wot a fuckin' twat. deserved every bit o' it, baby."

you meet his eyes, dark and cruel. he's still moving, still holding onto your hips and drawing out little whines, but it's different suddenly, it's more. you nod, understanding.

simon is terrible. no good. his head isn't in the right place, maybe it never has been. you wonder, briefly, if this is what he does when he's at work, if these are the things that he's used to. maybe simon has been in service too long--maybe he doesn't understand that you aren't at war here, that you can't just kill and clean up, that you aren't in the field.

"she deserved it," you whimper, and he grins, all teeth, all mean.

"tha's it."

"she was such a bitch."

"fuckin' right."

"she got what was coming for her."

"nnghhh--fuck, baby, gonna make me fuckin' cum, tolkin' like tha'," he hisses. you practically smack him as you grab onto his scarred face, gritting your teeth as you glare down at him. his lips part, and you spit in his mouth as he fucks up into you, thighs hitting your ass with a wet smack that makes your head spin.

"and i'll get rid of the next bitch that so much as looks your way, simon."

the kiss is searing. hot, blinding, white noise fills your ears as he cums with you, stuffing you full as he cums hard, a pained groan leaving him as he collapses against the porcelain tub with a harsh thud. you follow him, chasing after him, kissing him between heavy breaths as you don't make any effort to move off of him. when simon opens his eyes, he can't help but smile.

he's never seen his reflection without a mirror.

#awwwwwwwwww thanks for taking care of me pookie #thanks for indulging my terrible mind and telling me its okay ;)#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #simon thoughts #dark!ghost #dark!simon

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