#others will be mentioned soon so for now have these babis :D

[cuntyji]

hello my name is kashika aka cuntyji and here is my official review on user norikuna's choso fic. i have two tabs of the same fic open as i simultaneously write down my thoughts which is why it probably will be all over the place. thank you for reading. 

can i first start off by saying i was genuinely so surprised when i got this notif !! i remember being asked about what tropes & fics i'd like with certain characters and i just brain dumped it all....i didn't expect pookie to turn it into a whole fic (she is so real....that's my wife right there. we are actually married and i swim everyday across the ocean/s to meet her in australia)

He’s (gojo) officially dead to you, figuratively, of course. Unfortunately. ➜ DAPH YOU’RE SO MEAN WHY WOULD YOU SAY IT LIKE THAT !! my husband……even if he is dead we fanfic writers have developed twenty other plot lines where you are happy. i would quote a lot more but im loving gojo and reader’s friendship so far. AND THE IMPLIED STSG I LITERALLY SHOT UP FROM MY SEAT AND SALUTED MY SCREEN  

And yes, your type has turned out to be greasy Tim Burton reject loners who wander around school in faded Lord of the Rings hoodies. ➜ no one laugh but my current sort of crush is kind of like that minus the loner but he looks like a tim burton character and he is such a big band nerd and UGH OKAY ANYWAYS BACK TO THE FIC 

Your Prada loafers click against the polished floor, before you kick them off. ➜ i’m sorry but the minute i read prada i shot up straight because for a hot minute i forgot we’re the rich baddie archetype….reading this fic locked in now

“Uh, hey,” you manage. The picture of eloquence, the master of the verbose elite. ➜ i don’t blame her if i opened the door to choso kamo himself i’d piss my pants i mean kiss him i mean UHHH/??

Never let anyone tell you that teenage love is simple, or wholesome. Full of first crushes, and sweet moments. Because this? It feels like someone ripped the floor out from under you, the air yanked from your lungs, leaving you stranded. ➜ sat here holding my head in my hands because this sentence HURTTTSSSS. HURTED. HURT MY SOUL. this whole scene from reader asking him to him saying the truth oh god my face has morphed into a perpetual sad face

choso leaving the house is making me make a face….i’m staring at the screen gaping. i’m not used to reading him like this OOOWEIIIEEE

GOJO CALLING HIM JUGHEAD JONES LMFAOOO DAPH I LOVE UR MIND they are literally the same person and i had the BIGGEST crush on him….no wonder i love choso too.

But to borrow a line from Bangtan Sonyeondan, life goes on. ➜ daph you’re making me get war flashbacks. literally got up and saluted my screen. im so sick right now. heaving and throwing up

The next few months slip by like the kind of indie film that you’d see at film festival. It’s bittersweet, and there’s a melancholy that everyone can taste in the air, especially as you all realise that this last blue spring of youth is slipping through fingers like sand.    ///   Spring arrives like a first kiss. It’s hesitant, not rushing in. Just tiptoes around you, tentative enough as it coaxes you out of winter’s gloom. ➜ I AM SICK. SICK YOU HEAR. IM GOING THROUGH EVERY SINGLE EMOTION RIGHT NOW BECAUSE I HATE HOW THIS IS MY LIFE RIGHT— *GUNSHOTS* the below meme is me right now

Satoru grins, all teeth and lazy confidence, “Yeah, what? You’re going to start running a pyramid scheme cult?” ➜ the canon references….i am so sat right now. daph this is why you’re leader of geto-ville.

Once, he was Choso Kamo — the quiet boy you liked in school. Then, he became Choso from the café. Soon, he'll be someone whose name you won't even remember in a few years, someone who's path you'll probably never cross again. ➜ why am i paying internet bills…..yea……..to cry……..that’s whats up 

CHOSO QUOTING LEGALLY BLOND AND WE CHEERED !!!! THAT IS MY BABY OH MY GOD DAPH IM SMILING SO HAR =D ROGHT O WU HAVE NO DEA IM ACTUALLY CRYING ON MY BAYBY

sukuna mentioned and i shot up staight and clutched my chest and took in deep breathes i am feral for this man i genuinely think i have tunnel vision when it comes to him.

nevermind i read ahead and want to beat him up. when i read a fic and am forced to choose between canon inspired sukuna versus my baby choso (i jump out of the window)

Half a grape travels down Satoru’s windpipe, “The villain!” ➜ MY SAME REACTION BECAUSE WHAT THE FUCK YA ALLAH I SWEAR IF ITS YUKI IM GOING TO

THE KISS WAS SOSCUTE IM CHEESING OH TO BE LOED LIKE HOW CHOSO LOVES HER OH MY GOD IM BANGING MY HEAD AGAINST THE WALL

WHAT A FIC !!! WHAT A DAY !!! i need to write more for choso bcs the last time i did it was a psychological horror one that #FLOPPED (fragmented you will be missed....) THIS WAS SO STINKING CUTE DAPH I LOVE YOU !! THANK U FOR WRITING THIS THIS WAS SO SWEET I WENT THROUGH EVERY HUMAN EMOTION ON THE AUTISM SPECTRUM EVER !!! YOU'RE LITERALLY ONE OF THE BEST WRITERS I KNOW HOW U BALANCE TRUE HEART WARMING WRITING AND CONSTRUCTIVE WRITING UGH I LOVE U !!!

WHAT? LIKE IT'S HARD? ✶ choso kamo

abstract ✶ there are six physiological stages of having a crush. you just wish that you didn't have to learn this through first-hand experience. everyone said that choso kamo was a loser in high school, a quiet kid who haunted the campus with no friends. sure, he was brilliantly smart, but he dropped out in senior year. he even managed to break your heart, the glittering prom queen, with the world at your fingertips. imagine your surprise three years later, when you find yourself stuck with him in med school. what's worse? he's actually super hot now!

PART II. of the new years letters, a series of fics dedicated to some of my lovely mutuals! 🎁

pairing. choso kamo x afab!reader genre tags and warnings reader is practically a blair waldorf prototype (filthy rich, a bit bratty, spoiled), bestfriend!gojo, background gojo x geto, mentions of blood and injuries, med school, MISCOMMUNICATION, angst and hurt, fluff, kissing and making out. sukuna and yuuji cameos.

word count. 17.5k! song inspiration. crush culture — conan gray

a/n. shameless med student insert i rlly projected my full heart and soul into the anatomy lab ick. art belongs to all respective artists [will add credit!] crossposted on ao3 💖

dedication. for my dear kashika, first of all happy (belated) birthday @kasukuna 💗 wanted this to coincide with ur day but i'm late, i fear!!! you hype me up so much, send the sweetest asks and you're so damn talented that i'm left begging for an ounce of your creativity and amazing mind! your fics are so witty and well thought out and i like to think that you've spawned an incredible dumbass!bf sukuna renaissance on jjk tumblr 😭 idk if you remember but i sent you an ask on creamflix so long ago like the start of december asking you to choose between characters and au's so i tried lifting this as verbatim as i could from ur answer <3 hope you had the most amazing day ever!!

mp3. ✶ crush culture makes me wanna spill my gut out, i know what you're doing! tryna get me to pursue ya <3

You refuse to speak to Gojo Satoru ever again. Not today, not tomorrow, not in this lifetime nor the next. He’s officially dead to you, figuratively, of course. Unfortunately.

The moment he stops cackling like a deranged hyena in the middle of your bedroom, you’re going to shove him out the door so hard that he’s going to see stars. You’ll block his number, you’ll delete every photo of his smug grin, and you’re going to hire an exorcist to cleanse his essence from your life.

Except right now, your best friend is sprawled across your bed, practically writhing as he gasps for air in between bouts of ridiculous, chipmunk-like squeals. He’s still in his uniform, having crashed at your place after school, with his white shirt untucked, sleeves pushed to his elbows and his tie dangling uselessly around his neck.

“You are such a child,” you grumble, shoving your sticker-laden journal off your lap with a huff, just so you can aim a precise kick at his ribs. Satoru wheezes dramatically, clutching his stomach like he’s just been mortally wounded in battle.

“It’s -” he’s snickering, slapping the fine-thread sheets with the fervour of one trying to summon a higher power, “It’s just too good. I – oh my god, I really can’t breathe! I think I’m going to pass out.”

Satoru’s rolling over dramatically, dark-tinted sunglasses slipping down the bridge of his hawkish nose, leaving him to look like a cherubic bird with a bad attitude.

“If only,” you mutter darkly, arms crossed over your own blazer as you glare daggers at the white-haired boy, “It’s not that funny.”

But Satoru just doesn’t listen, of course. His grin is wide enough to split his face in half, and every breath that he takes is another affront to your polished dignity, and every stupid wheeze is a reminder that you made the colossal mistake of trusting this man with classified information.

“Keep laughing,” you say, your tone low and menacing as you snatch your phone off your nightstand, “And see what happens when I play offence.”

That gets Satoru’s attention, as he freezes mid-snort. Grin faltering just enough to make you feel a small and petty thrill of satisfaction, “You wouldn’t.”

“I would,” you say, already tapping away on your phone, scrolling past the ninety-nine notifications clogging Instagram. A certain raven-haired boy’s name hovers in your mind, one who shares the same initials as Gojo Satoru.

You’re not above sending a risky message.

Hey! Gojo’s been totally obsessed with you, ever since you bashed his head in with a spiral notebook back in seventh grade, and called him a spoilt, rich kid. He draws love hearts around your name every night. Just thought you should know, XOXO.

“Wait!” Satoru bolts upright so fast that his sunglasses fall into his lap, his grin morphing into a scowl as panic flashes in his too-blue eyes, “That’s playing dirty. Totally unfair.”

“You’re the one who laughed like a lunatic,” you say sweetly, tilting the phone towards him as if you’re about to hit send.

“You can’t be serious!” Satoru points a long, accusatory finger at you, his dramatic outrage undercut by the way his lips keep twitching, “I mean -” Another snicker escapes him as he buries his face in his hands, shoulders shaking again, “Like how? Of all people, you really have a crush on that guy.”

For a fleeting moment, you wonder if it’s too late to enrol in witness protection. It was clearly your mistake, deciding to tell Satoru critically sensitive information. Revealing the name of the boy that you were crushing on.

And yes, your type has turned out to be greasy Tim Burton reject loners who wander around school in faded Lord of the Rings hoodies.

You’re just totally head-over-heels for Choso Kamo.

“Whatever,” you snap, shoving your phone into the pocket of your school blazer with as much dignity as you can muster under the barrage of Satoru’s relentless cackles, “You wouldn’t understand?”

“Understand?” Satoru shifts himself with all the casual arrogance of someone who, unfortunately, has never been truly humbled in his life, propping himself against one of your enormous plush pillows.

The velvet squishes beneath his weight, gold embroidery bunching, but he’s utterly unbothered. “Enlighten me, we’re talking about the same Kamo right? The guy who sits behind you in class, and doesn’t so much blink in your direction? The one who looks like he’d rather gargle glass than talk to you?”

Another pillow sails across the bed before you even realise that you’ve hurled it. It strikes him square in the face, with a satisfying thwump! Muffling his laugh as he flails, tangled in thick, down stuffing.

“He’s just shy!” You insist, your voice rising as you get up to pace. Your Prada loafers click against the polished floor, before you kick them off. “And he only acts like that when others are around, by the way. He talks to me when it’s just us.”

“Oh, sure,” Satoru sits up, wrestling the pillow aside with a theatrical groan. His snowy hair sticks up at angles, like he’s been electrocuted, “That’s probably because he’s plotting his escape route while you corner him, like a lion closing in on its prey. Poor Kamo’s the gazelle.”

“Just know that I’m blowing you up in my mind.”

Satoru huffs, “So, what is your plan now? Are you going to ask him to prom? Are we going to see a proposal for the ages?”

You pause mid-pace, fighting the hot flush that creeps up your neck. It burns brighter as you glance towards the gilded vanity mirror, for that is exactly what you had wanted. You just needed to hear someone’s validation, “Should I?”

Satoru’s grin falters for a second, replaced with a look of sheer disbelief, “You’re kidding, right? That kid hates social events. You think he’s going to go with you?”

“Why not?” You’re fiddling with the crystal perfume decanters, the bottles of skincare on your vanity, “I’ve been dropping hints, okay? Subtle ones, all that manifesting shit.”

“Subtle?” Satoru snorts, “You mean letting half the football team pile bouquets into your locker? The locker that’s right next to his? Oh, yeah. Super low-key. Very humble.”

“At least I have options,” you snap back, flicking on the lights as the sun begins to sharpen its afternoon glare. Warm golden light spills across the room, catching on the ceiling-length silk drapes, “Meanwhile, I hope you end up alone at prom. Making ugly, kissy faces at Geto Suguru, while he’s with someone else.”

Satoru groans, like you’ve truly pierced his heart, “Cruel. So cruel when provoked,” but he’s propping himself back up on one elbow, “But hey, if you really do like Kamo, you know that makes him my future brother-in-law or something. That’s cool.”

Your gasp is sharp, scandalised, “Excuse me?”

“But think about it,” Satoru continues, ignoring your sputters, “You’re practically confirmed to be Prom Queen. Do you really want to drag that guy up on stage with you?”

“I think you’re being judgemental,” you mutter, tugging the drapes close and blocking out the faint twinkle of the city skyline, “He’d have to be insane not to say yes to me.”

“Someone is going to deflate that big head of yours one day,” Satoru says, and his voice has softened just enough to make you glance back at him, “You do know he cuts class a lot, right?”

“What’s your point?”

“I’m not being a bitch, I swear,” Satoru holds up his palms defensively, “He shows up for only half the month, you might want to check on your boy.”

You flop onto the chaise lounge, throwing an arm over your face tragically, “This isn’t the inspiring pep talk that I need right now.”

Satoru leans lazily against the gilded frame of your canopy bed, “Hey, it’s not my place to tell you what to do. But if you are that into him, then fine! Just ask him to prom and see what happens. And tell you what? If you ask Kamo, I’ll ask Suguru.”

You narrow your eyes, “Wow, this must be serious if you’re out here wheeling and dealing like this. Are you feeling okay?”

Satoru presses a dramatic hand to his chest, his grin morphing into something faux-solemn, “Cross my heart. I’m making a binding vow, like, it’s unbreakable. Life or death.”

“Deal,” you quickly say, ignoring the sudden leap of your pulse, because there’s no way that you’re letting him see how the sudden time-pressure is making your stomach twist into ugly knots. You point towards the door with a flourish, “And as much as I love our time together, I need to get ready. So…out! Chop-chop.”

Satoru groans like you’ve just asked him to drag a boulder uphill with his teeth, slumping off your bed in exaggerated defeat. He sluggishly reaches for his discarded backpack from the floor, slinging it over his shoulder, “I still don’t get why you bother with working. You and I both know that we don’t need it,” he mutters, as if the concept of responsibility personally offends him.

“It’s just babysitting,” you gently correct, shrugging on a cashmere cardigan from the back of your chair, “And anyway, you know I need a well-rounded list of extracurriculars for Pre-Med.”

“I’d rather eat my sunglasses, one lens at a time,” Satoru shoots back, adjusting said sunglasses squarely over his face, “Instead of being stuck babysitting brats all evening. We’re not meant to be saints.”

“It’s just one kid tonight. New family, new house,” you reply, grabbing your bag where it rests by the vanity, “Anyway, I expect a full report on your prom date by tomorrow, Satoru. I’m not forgetting that vow.”

Satoru pauses in the doorway, with the edges of his grin sharpened into something that makes you pity Geto Suguru in advance, “I never disappoint.”

You had finally managed to shove Satoru out of the doorway, his obnoxious laughter echoing faintly down the hall. The quiet that follows is a relief, albeit short-lived. You’re left standing in the stillness of your room, phone in hand, thumb hovering over the text with the address of tonight’s gig.

Honestly, Satoru might have a point. You, the only child of one of the country’s most obscenely wealthy families, babysitting? It’s not like you’re chasing pocket money or trying to build character. But medical school applications don’t only care about your bank account, there’s so many extra boxes to tick. Factors like being selfless or dedicated to the community.

The request had been odd from the start. Some child had called you himself, and normally, it’s the frazzled parents who handle that kind of task. His voice had been small, but determined, saying that his brother was out, and he needed a sitter for the evening. Something about the earnestness of it had softened you, though, now you were starting to regret the whole thing — seeing how far out this house was from your own penthouse.

Showing up in the Bentley with tinted windows and your chauffeur had felt a little off brand for this role. So, in the name of relatability, you had popped a piece of cherry gum and a book, taking on the bus. The sticky seats and questionable patrons had almost been enough to make you reconsider, but the suburb itself offered a strange charm.

It was quiet here, too quiet, the kind of place that might have once been picturesque, but it had gone soft around the edges. The homes were older, cozy but tired, with paint peeling in places and lawns that were overrun with weeds. You wrinkle your nose as you step off the bus, weaving through tufts of stubborn greenery and abandoned toys in the yard.

The house that you’re looking for stands a little crooked, but sturdy. It’s faded shutters are barely hanging on, and a basketball hoop leans precariously over the driveway. There’s a small, red toy car that’s entirely faded and scratched, sitting forgotten near the porch steps.

Just as your knuckles hover over the worn wood of the front door, it swings open with such force that you nearly stumble backwards. A blur of motion catches you off guard, and you’re suddenly face-to-face with a tiny, pink-haired whirlwind.

The boy’s grinning up at you, wide and gap-toothed, with big golden eyes. His hair is wild, a fluffy crown of rosy strands over a dark undercut, and his scraped knees are haphazardly patched up with dinosaur bandages.

“Wait here! I’m going to get my brother!” He chirps, his voice bright and slightly whistly, thanks to the missing tooth. Before you can get a word in, he’s gone, sprinting back inside with the energy of an overeager puppy, leaving you stranded on the porch.

You shuffle awkwardly, glancing down at the scratched paint on the doorframe. There was something endearing about the child, and you’re starting to feel less apprehensive. That is, until the door opens again, and time slows.

Your heart stutters, skips, and then plummets. As if someone’s dropped you into an industrial freezer. Standing there, with one hand resting lightly on the kid’s shoulder, and an expression that’s one part confusion and one part disbelief, is Choso Kamo.

It’s as if the universe has conspired against you, playing its most cruel and ridiculous joke yet. Tall and broad, with tired eyes that sweep over you in slow recognition. Dark mark twitching across his face, like a deliberate smudge of ink.

Choso’s blinking, startled to see you here, though his usual stoic expression has yet to crack. Meanwhile, your inner monologue is screaming a symphony of pure panic. You can already heal Satoru’s stupid squeals in your head.

The pink-haired boy tugs on Choso’s arm, “See, I got a babysitter! Isn’t that cool?”

Choso glances down at the kid, then back at you, his lips parting as if to speak.

“Uh, hey,” you manage. The picture of eloquence, the master of the verbose elite.

It strikes you, with almost absurd clarity, that you’ve never seen Choso outside the campus bubble. No dim library corners, no lab tables cluttered with textbooks, or heavy beat-up laptops parked in front of him. Gone are the oversized hoodies thrown over his school uniform, or the baggy jeans he dons when he forgoes the dress code entirely. Instead, he’s here, standing in the soft glow of the broken porch light, wearing a loose black tee and dark track pants.

His chestnut hair is free from the two greasy, spiky knots that he favours on his head, falling softer around his face. Your traitorous heart lurches, feeling a sharp pang of betrayal.

“You’re the babysitter?” Choso’s voice cuts through your spiral. Raspy as always, roughened like rock salt, but there’s something else threaded into the question. A flicker of irritation, and confusion. As if he’s struggling to reconcile you, with the person standing on his doorstep.

“You didn’t know when you booked?” You shoot back, aiming for casual indifference, but landing somewhere closer to petulant. Your eyes flick to the box he’s holding, with contents that glint faintly in the light. Suspiciously metallic, as if he’s cradling surgical tools.

Choso follows your curious gaze, exhaling sharply, and shifting the box to a nearby table, just out of your line of sight.

“I didn’t book,” he grunts, “Told Yuuji to check the ads, and pick one.”

“And I picked the best one!” The delighted chirp comes from behind Choso, as Yuuji reappears, practically bouncing with a sunny grin. His golden eyes are locked on the ribbon-wrapped box in your hands, and his expression is lit up with unabashed glee.

You glance down at the box, containing an array of decadent artisan doughnuts. Saffron glaze, coconut cream, pistachio and chocolate. All from that impossibly chic Swiss patisserie downtown. You ignore the dull ache building between your eyes, smiling as you hand the box over, “These are for you, little man.”

Yuuji’s already snapping his hands for the box, as though you had just delivered a treasure chest of gold doubloons, “Can I have one? Please? Pretty-please?”

Choso glances down at him with a long-suffering look that somehow manages to carry an undertone of fondness, “Just one,” he warns, his voice dry but warm, “For now.”

Yuuji doesn’t need to be told twice, bolting towards the kitchen and clutching the box to his chest like a sacred relic. The faint sound of icing being smacked off fingers echoes from somewhere around the corner.

Choso watches him go, before turning back to you, his posture easing slightly. “That was nice of you,” he says, his voice softer now, almost tentative, “But he’s going to crash hard after that sugar high. Good luck.”

You wave off his scepticism with a breezy smile, “I’m good with kids. I’ll manage.”

For a moment, the boy’s expression shifts. Something fleeting and unreadable flickers across his face, a hint of thoughtfulness or something heavier.

Another thought gnaws at the edges of your mind, a tiny spectre of dread wrapped in Gojo Satoru’s smug grin. Two hours ago, though it feels like a lifetime now, you made a pact.

You ask Kamo, I’ll ask Suguru.

At the time, it had seemed like an impossible bluff. But the thing about Satoru is that he’s infuriatingly reliable when he sets his mind to something. No matter the cost.

Which is why you’re here now, sweating under your cashmere sweater. The fabric is suddenly too soft, too warm, clinging to the nape of your neck. You, with half the school population ready to pen sonnets just for a chance to take you to prom. Jocks, debate captains, the crème de la crème of eligible dates. All overlooked in favour of the quiet boy that no-one seems to notice.

The boy whose locker was assigned right next to yours, empty and cold steel. While yours was glittered with Polaroids, and pastel sticky notes, and the occasional folded love letter. The boy that everyone said had no friends, but he was easily the uncontested valedictorian. The boy that you desperately wanted to ask to prom.

Choso is shuffling papers on the table, avoiding your gaze like it’s a laser beam. His movements are slow, and deliberate, but there’s an edge of tension in the way his fingers linger on a set of silver keys, before he slips them into his pocket.

“What?” His voice breaks the quiet, low and rough like gravel underfoot. It startles you out of your spiralling thoughts.

“Nothing,” you blurt out, far too quickly. You’re grasping at straws to keep the conversation going, “Where are you headed?”

Choso hesitates, a slight hitch in his movements, picking that cardboard box again. For a moment, you think he’s going to ignore your question, but then he mutters, “Work.”

You tilt your head, your curiosity outweighing your better judgement to never press Choso Kamo for more than two sentences in a conversation.

He shifts uncomfortable, and you catch a glimpse of latex gloves tucked neatly inside before he angles it out of view, “I…clean up things,” he says finally, his tone clipped as though every word is a concession, “Errands. I’m a cleaner.”

The kind of response that’s designed to kill conversation in its track. It’s vague, annoyingly so, but you let it slide, “Oh.”

You’re this close to spontaneously combusting. The pact, the reason that your hands shake when you catch yourself staring at Choso Kamo for just a second too long. It’s either now or never. Rip the band-aid before your central nervous system completely betrays you and implodes.

Objectively speaking, you’re a real catch. Second-best grades in the cohort, from an old business dynasty that rivalled the Youngs from Crazy Rich Asians, two-time prom queen with med-school practically knocking on the door. Yeah, a dream. College applications adored you. Surely, Choso would have had to be running on a clone’s brain stitched into his head to say no.

Yet, somehow, it doesn’t make your heart beat any less erratically. It doesn’t erase the hollow pit that’s clawing at your insides. And now, you’re wishing that you had asked for advice from someone with an ounce of finesse. Like Shoko, or Utahime. Not your best friend who called himself The Honoured One.

You clear your throat, the taste of artificial cherry gum still lingering, “So, are you going to prom?”

Choso snorts, the sound entirely dismissive. But he seems to realise that you’re not joking, flicking you a glance, like he’s deciding to humour you, “What’s it to you? Need me to vote for you to be prom queen?”

You roll your eyes, fighting the flush creeping up your Burberry sweater, “Didn’t I already ask you to do that, like, two months ago?”

His lips twitch, barely, like he’s holding a smile back under layers of indifference, “Yeah. You pestered me three times. And I actually did it.”

You latch onto the softer tone in his voice, “So, are you going to go, then?” You’re watching him, almost desperate for a sign, for anything other than no.

Choso’s shoulders tense, “Can’t.”

“Can’t?” The word slips out of your mouth before you can stop it, incredulous, “What do you mean can’t? Why? You need to study or something?” You’re trying so hard to sound indifferent, like you’ve got a roster of dates lined up. And well, you do. But this is the only one that you want. The panic creeping into your voice betrays you before you even realise it.

“No,” Choso replies, his tone quieter, “I really just can’t go.”

A weight drops in your stomach, heavy and cold. Is this what rejection feels like? The thought hits like a wave, leaving you breathless. Your heart’s flipping in your chest like it’s teetering on the edge of cliff, seconds away from freefalling into nothing.

You inhale sharply, steeling yourself for the words that are about to spill out.

“I want you to be my date for prom.” “I can’t go because I dropped out.”

The words slam into each other, and for a moment, everything freezes. Choso’s mouth has fallen open, the curve of his lips slack with shock. As though as someone’s hit the pause button on him, mid-thought. You blink at him, your brain becoming a skipping CD. Round and round, never quite catching the beat.

“What did you just say?” Your brows knit together in a sharp pinch, like your face can’t decide whether to wince or frown. But Choso just grimace, lips curling into a tight line as his shoulders stiffen.

“You first.”

Your fingers fidget around the cream Van Cleef that rests on your throat, tracing the cool edge of the pendant. It’s one of your mother’s newer gifts, the kind that comes with all the frills and none of the warmth. Her true transactional brand of maternal affection.

“I wanted to ask if you’d go to prom with me, as my date,” It spills out of you in a jumbling mess, like you’re tripping vowels and consonants over each other. Choso’s eyes widen, but you barrel on before he can interrupt, “I mean, I get it if you think it’s lame or boring, or you just don’t want to go. But I promise my friends are actually really nice, and you can sit with us.” The rest of your monologue trails off, crumbling to dust, “I just really wanted to ask you.”

You wish to sink into the floor, like the soft earth will swallow you whole. You can almost picture Satoru’s ridiculous proposal to Geto Suguru, no doubt involving fireworks or an airplane trailing a banner.

The air is so still, you can hear the faint crackling of Yuuji’s incessant doughnut quest from across the small house, his movements clumsy and unintentionally loud as he rips open cellophane for more than one sweet treat.

Choso’s shifting slightly, and there’s a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks. The pink hue is a stark contrast to his usual sickly pallor. Even his ears are a shade darker, and his jaw tightens like he’s chewing on something bitter and struggling to swallow it down. It’s hard to tell if he’s upset or just lost. Or somewhere in-between.

“You wanted to go with me?” His voice is low, hoarse, like the idea is too outlandish for him to even process. You don’t know whether to laugh or apologise.

“Mhm.” It’s all you can manage, your throat suddenly dry and tight.

“I dropped out of school two days ago,” Choso mutters, as he runs a hand through his dark hair. He’s glancing at you, with the ghost of an apology flickering across his expression, but the shock that you can’t seem to mask makes him wince, “Look, it’s not a big deal. And it’s nice that you asked, but…”

“Dropped out? Like, entirely out of school?” Your voice cracks, each word climbing higher like you’re stepping on a broken escalator, “Why? What happened?”

Never let anyone tell you that teenage love is simple, or wholesome. Full of first crushes, and sweet moments. Because this? It feels like someone ripped the floor out from under you, the air yanked from your lungs, leaving you stranded. And it’s not a pleasant feeling, being denied something that you want, for the first time in your life.

Choso shrugs, like he’s been answering this question a thousand times already. Though, you’re sure that this is the first time he’s said it to out loud to anyone, “Family stuff. Just had to.”

You try to piece this together, for this house does smell faintly of stale coffee, and the worn leather of the couch has clearly seen better days. You can tell, on some level, that something is off. That there’s no parental figure in sight for little Yuuji, just the harsh edges of whatever it is that Choso seems to carry on his own.

You can feel the words bubbling up again, stupid and reckless, “But you know you just can’t leave. You’ve got the top marks in the class, Choso. And you know that you were on a scholarship, right? For one of the most elite schools in the country? How are you ever going to get that again?”

The second they leave your mouth; you hear how self-righteous and insensitive you sound. You already regret it, almost reaching up to slap your hands over your face.

Choso’s expression darkens, his face tightens. Like a storm cloud rolling in, as his lips pull into a tight and angry line, “Back off,” he snaps, voice suddenly sharp enough to cut, “You don’t know a damn thing about my life.”

His sneer twists, not with malice, but something deeper. Harder, like he’s being chewed up by all the things he never got to say before, “Don’t worry, though. I’m sure they’ll make a big, shiny tiara for when they name you valedictorian. Maybe, it’ll match your prom dress.”

“Hey!” Your eyes well up, stupid heat of tears prickling behind your eyes, and swelling a thick lump in your throat, “That’s not what I meant.” You cannot believe that you’re tearing up, over this. Over wanting something that you can’t have, and someone who seems to have more to lose than you ever thought possible.

Choso’s lip curls into a half-sneer, but there’s a flicker of something else there. His posture shifts, as if he’s trying to fold in on himself. He lowers his voice, still low and uncomfortable, but careful. Careful, because his little brother is just down the hall.

“I don’t need your pity, okay? Or your help.” His fingers grip the metal of the net door, “I have to go now. Just look after Yuuji.”

The heavy clang of steel on mesh echoes in your ears, sharp and final. The sound lingers like a ringing in your skull as you stand there, utterly paralysed as your mind scrambles to catch up with the wreckage of what just happened. Your five-year crush crashing down in five minutes.

Your feet move, and you find yourself in the bare dining room. Yuuji’s perched at the table, with a doughnut half-eaten in his hand, a mess of pistachio cream smeared across his chin like a brave trooper. There’s an iPad, an old, scratched model, with a silicone tiger case, propped up in front of him. The screen is flashing with something, like blueberries. Bouncing in time with some peppy tune.

“Did Choso leave for work?” Yuuji asks, utterly oblivious to the emotional landmine that his brother left in your hands. His eyes are wide, curious, the innocence of a kid who still thinks the world works in neat, little boxes.

“Yeah,” you say, forcing a smile, “He works a lot, huh?”

“Oh, yeah,” Yuuji mumbles through a mouthful of pastry, sugar clinging to his lips, “He always gets upset when Uncle Kuna’ calls him in. Even after school.”

Choso has never mentioned an uncle. Or a brother, for that matter. But then again, why would he? You had never even asked for his number, never bothered to learn anything beyond what was right in front of you. You realise, with a strange pang of guilt, that you’ve built your entire image of infatuation with Choso, from incomplete sketches. Filling in the blanks with whatever fits into the tiny box you’ve kept him in.

“Hey, do you have Netflix?” Yuuji’s voice cuts through your thoughts, bright and eager. “I want to watch How to Train Your Dragon. It’s Fushiguro and Kugisaki’s favourite movie!”

The names are unfamiliar, but Yuuji’s excitement is infectious. You cannot help but smile at the boy, his messy hair and too-big shirt. It’s hard not to be fond of such a kid. You take the iPad from his sticky hands, logging into the app. All the while, chasing yourself around mentally with a baseball bat for the biggest fumble of the century.

If last night felt like a disaster, this morning was just the encore performance. And you were the unwilling star. Just the effort of peeling yourself out of bed felt like an Olympic event. And facing your reflection of swollen eyes and blotchy skin felt like punishment for sins that were way out of your paygrade.

Reluctantly, you’re tugging on your blazer, and clipping a barrette into your hair. There’s a sparkling, diamond tennis bracelet fastened around your wrist. All little things that you need to don like armour, to face your senior year, the student population and the empty locker that would remain untouched next to yours.

Satoru and Shoko are the first faces that you spot in the crowd, and Satoru’s practically bouncing down the hall, “Oh, yeah, I got it locked in,” he announces, cheeks flushed with an absurdly boyish grin, “I got it in the bag.”

He’s sliding his sunglasses down just enough to peer at you, wordlessly handing you his coffee cup, as is your morning ritual. The overly sweet, creamy warmth does nothing to ease the ache in your chest, and your lip-gloss stains the edge of the paper.

“What about you, eh?” Satoru chirps, but you must look blatantly devasted. Because your best friend’s grin falters, the corners of his mouth pulling down.

“Wait, you’re joking right?” His voice is marred with disbelief, and his eyes scan the hall like he’s trying to spot someone’s dark head of hair, “Where is he? Jughead Jones lookin’ ass? Shoko, do you know where Choso Kamo sits? Because I’m going to give him a real piece of my mind and —”

You cut him off, abruptly shoving the coffee back into his warm hands, “It’s fine. He dropped out school, anyway.”

Shoko hums beside you, her fingers absentmindedly twirling a strand of cinnamon-brown hair. The chipped polish on her nails catches the fluorescent light, “Prom queen and valedictorian in one year? Not a bad run for you.”

You glare at her, and Shoko’s doe-eyed expression softens. The breeze from the open window catches her sleek hair, making it sway gently, and she shifts. Voice dropping to something quieter, more thoughtful, “That really does suck, though. Sorry.” She sounds like she means it now, her usual flippancy up in smoke, “I didn’t even know you liked him like that. Not until Gojo told me, like, two hours ago.”

Your eyes snap to Satoru who, for once, has the good sense to shut his mouth.

Shoko’s voice is subdued, “I wonder if it had anything to do with him being called into admin.”

“Wait, when?” Satoru interrupts. He’s taking another long slurp of his sweet mocha, the froth giving him whiskers.

“Three days ago,” Shoko shrugs, “Some big guy rolled up to the office. Demanded to see the principal. No idea who he was, but he was important. And rich. Like you need to be super wealthy to call the shots in a school for the children of the top one percent.”

You must look tragic, because even Shoko pauses mid-chew. Her lollipop moving from one side of her mouth to the other. She looks at you, really looks at you. You can see the careful shift in her demeanour, as though she’s considering the most diplomatic answer that she can offer you to avoid making things worse.

“Well, you don’t have to go to prom with anyone, right?” Satoru says, the words hanging awkwardly in the air like a balloon that’s just lost its helium. His consolation is well-meaning, but a bit clueless. But now, his sunglasses are perched atop his head now, leaving his eyes exposed. Icy blue, framed by lashes so long that they practically flirt with his eyebrows. For once, there’s a flicker of real concern in them, clouds passing over clear skies.

“I know,” you gripe, your voice flat as you find yourself glaring at a group of juniors who are skipping by, with their phones out in unison, clicking away like it’s a competition. Fantastic. You can already see the gossip Instagram stories by lunch, wondering what happened to you. Rumours milling about the reason for your glum expression.

Shoko shifts her heavy bag onto her shoulder, patting your arm. “I’ll see you at lunch. My treat,” she says, turning her heel for the Chemistry building. Leaving you alone with Satoru, as Shoko quickly picks her pace up to catch her Honours class.

“So,” you start, keeping your eyes on him out of the corner of your vision, watching how his fingers twitch around the coffee cup, “How did it go with Geto Suguru?”

Satoru’s shifting, as though he’s trying not gloat, but clearly bursting to tell you, “It was nice,” which is an unusually subdued, sensitive explanation from Satoru. The one who can take five hours to tell a story that you could wrap up in ten minutes. “He was really friendly. More than I thought he would be.”

“That is nice.” You’re forcing some perk back into your voice, but it comes out rather weak, “Like, genuinely.”

Satoru crumples the empty cup in his hand, tossing it into a nearby trashcan. Then, he shoots you a sharper look, “Did you actually talk to Choso, like, in-person? How did that go?”

You exhale, “Turns out I was babysitting his little brother,” and Satoru’s eyes widen slightly, “He was fine. And then he wasn’t. I asked him to be my date, and told me he dropped out. I said something…stupid. And now he’s going to hate me forever.”

Satoru stares at you, his gaze sharp, as though he’s dissecting you. And you swear that he can see right through your skin, right into your bones. It’s moments like this that make you feel like maybe your best friend has a sixth sense, some secret radar for picking up on these things.

“Wow,” he murmurs, a touch of something in his voice, “It really got you bad, huh?”

You bristle, a mix of annoyance and embarrassment flooding your chest. You’re straightening your shoulders, but it’s all too obvious and so fucking frustrating, “Yeah, well, I don’t even know why it matters so much.” The bite in your voice is more directed at yourself, than him.

Satoru doesn’t flinch, just tilts his head, and he’s quiet. It’s a weird look on him, soft concern, “You genuinely really liked him that much?”

The truth sticks to your throat as your chest tightens, and your eyes blur. It would be nice to tell Satoru that you didn’t really care that much. That it was never fully that serious, but the lie won’t leave your lips. The lump in your throat is palpable, and all you can do is sniffle, “Yeah. I did.”

“Do you want to cry?” Satoru’s voice is gentle enough to catch you off guard.

You open your mouth to retort, something sharp and defensive. But before you know it, tears spill as your chest constricts. It’s sudden, like a storm that breaks on the horizon.

And just like that, your best friend pulls you into him. For once, the wild energy that crackles off him is gone, replaced by something quieter and more unwavering. You can feel his shoulder under your cheek, soft and warm, salt staining the expensive fabric. And if anyone does see you sob into Gojo Satoru’s arms, while the white-haired boy pats your back, no one says a word.

But to borrow a line from Bangtan Sonyeondan, life goes on. The next few months slip by like the kind of indie film that you’d see at film festival. It’s bittersweet, and there’s a melancholy that everyone can taste in the air, especially as you all realise that this last blue spring of youth is slipping through fingers like sand.

In this haze of time, you discover a few things that you didn’t expect. For instance, Geto Suguru is, in fact, far more than the tall and brooding figure that you once shrugged off. He’s the stillness to Satoru’s sharper teeth, the quiet that counters the blue eye of the storm. He’s soft-spoken, with an easy patience that tempers Satoru’s edges. He’s become a bit of a constant presence, as they always bicker and makeup in a sort of perpetual cycle.

Spring arrives like a first kiss. It’s hesitant, not rushing in. Just tiptoes around you, tentative enough as it coaxes you out of winter’s gloom. Before the flurry of sparkly gowns and speeches, there’s Utahime’s birthday to celebrate. It’s supposed to be a relaxed affair, she insists that she has no desire for fuss. But you all show up anyway, surprising her with a giant, pastel cake that takes up nearly half the table.

Her laugh is loud, and carefree, mixing with the salt of the ocean breeze on this beach trip. Her black hair whips around her face, even as she blushes at the attention. She’s protesting, but it’s swallowed by laugher, by the sound of waves breaking against the shores.

The awards and titles are all well and good, prom queen and valedictorian. A shiny, little stamp on your high school resume, a golden ticket to the next chapter of your life. But when anyone brings it up, or someone presses too hard on the subject, you shift uncomfortably, your fingers toying with the edge of your pre-med acceptance letter like it just might tear under the pressure of your grip. No-one talks about how you’ve been visiting your locker less and less.

Satoru, of course, loudly denies crying at graduation, even as salty, shiny tears tack to his cheeks. They’re practically immortalised in every digital snapshot that you take. But for now, he’s too busy wrapping everyone in a bear hug, clutching the group that it’s the last time he’ll ever see them. Nanami’s already peeling him off, shaking his head with a worn sigh.

It's late in the morning after the graduation ceremony, as you all pile into cars, driving to a riverside café. It’s one of those places where people with money go to prove that they have money, to prove that even their breakfasts are above the meals of the common folk. But you all sit there, with the graduation ribbons still pinned to your lapels. There’s the debate over who cried the most during the ceremony (Gojo, easily, though Haibara is a close second) and who’s the one who peaked in high school. Everyone unanimously votes for Geto, who sulks as he tosses his hair out of his face, ever the drama queen.

“Bullshit,” he’s grumbling, “Just you wait. You’ll see what I accomplish in ten years.”

Satoru grins, all teeth and lazy confidence, “Yeah, what? You’re going to start running a pyramid scheme cult?”

Utahime’s voice cuts through the chatter, her white ribbon flouncing as she leans towards you, blinking at the empty space in front of you, “Where’s your food?”

You wave her off with a smile, “It’s fine. You guys can go ahead and start, I’ll just go and check.”

You hear Satoru choke around a mouthful of food, already bulldozing half his way through his plate like a bottomless pit.

There’s a pretty glass display at the front, filled with delicate chiffon cakes that glisten in the soft light. You wonder if you should have just ordered one, perhaps to share with Nanami. You know he likes desserts like this.

“Can I help you?”

Your pulse stutters as you bite your tongue, heart crashing against the rocks. You soothe your tongue over the tang of iron that blooms in your mouth from the stupidly familiar voice.

Choso Kamo.

You’d like to say that he looks good, but the truth is, he doesn’t. The hollows beneath his eyes are far more accentuated than you remember, and his hair is pulled back into a messy knot at the back of his head. Even his pale skin has taken on a sicklier pallor than usual.

“Hello?” His voice cuts through the silence, sharper this time, carrying an edge that takes you by surprise.

“Oh, uh, hey. Choso. Just wanted to check on my order,” you say, like it’s a poor prelude to small talk. It sounds far too chipper, almost artificial.

Choso’s expression tightens immediately, in an ill-omen. It’s as if he’s irritated that you even have the nerve to recognise him, to stand there in his space. He doesn’t meet your gaze, his attention flicking back to the screen in front of him with a quickness that almost feels deliberate.

“Hello.” He’s muttering back, more out of obligation than any real interest. Like it’s a formality.

The sharp, hollow feeling in your chest expands, deeper than you’re willing to admit. The last time you saw him, you had been standing at his door, and he had slammed it in your face.

“What are you doing here?” Your question is clumsy, hanging in the air, and far too intrusive for a stranger.

“What?” Choso doesn’t even look up. But then he does, just briefly, his gaze flicking to yours with the same disinterest. He shrugs, as though the query is too trivial for any answer.

“It’s just…it’s been a while, yeah?” You’re not quite sure how to word and I want to know how you’ve been.

“I’m fine,” Choso replies quickly, dismissing your question with a wave of his pale hand, “Just working around here and there.”

It’s offbeat, landing wrong. You don’t think it’s unfair to think that everyone expected more of him. One of the smartest, most brilliant minds in your cohort, who had been a shoo-in for medicine, alongside you.

The bustle of patrons behind you intensifies, but you stubbornly dig your heels into the polished tile, “How’s Yuuji?”

The mention of his younger brother softens him, just a little. A small, bashful smile tugs at the corner of Choso’s pink lips, hesitant, like he doesn’t quite know how to let it show, “He’s good. Says you were the ‘bestest’ babysitter that he ever had. Even asks about you sometimes.”

You fight the urge to smile too openly, not wanting to seem too affected by the gentleness that suddenly lingers in the space between you two, “I’m glad. And…are you still working for your uncle?”

It’s as if you’ve thrown a switch, causing all the warmth to evaporate from his features. His jaw tightens, as his brow furrows. Settling a coldness over his expression, “Who the fuck told you that?”

You blink, surprised at the sudden harshness of his words. “Yuuji mentioned it,” you murmur, quieter now, careful. The hesitation in your voice isn’t feigned, and you realise you’ve broken the golden rule of ‘never push Choso Kamo about his personal life.’

Choso doesn’t seem keen on letting you explain, as his glare cuts through you, “If you wanted to snoop into my life, just ask me your stupid questions, okay? Don’t drag my little brother into it.”

The accusation lands like a slap, stinging you more than you expected, “What? I wasn’t snooping,” you insist, defences flaring open, “He told me that himself. I didn’t even ask him anything, and I didn’t ask anything else!”

He just stares at you, eyes burnished and unreadable, but he seems mollified by your answer. Like he knows that your explanation is sincere, but the chasm is nigh impossible to bridge, “Sure. Okay.”

You don’t know how to respond, opening your mouth to ask what on earth has made him so unreasonable. To dig the tips of your almond nails into his long sleeves, and demand that he treats you as adoringly as everyone else in your life does. But he interrupts you first, “Your order’s coming.”

Choso’s tone is clipped, colder. As though he’s already moved on, “And I’ve got a lot of other customers to serve. Nice seeing you again, or whatever.”

A dismissal, if there ever was one. The embarrassment rushes up your neck, hot and insistent, but you bite your tongue. You let your heels clack a little more loud than necessary, as you stomp away. You’re swivelling your head to deliver a final, withering stare but his gaze is no longer on you.

Choso’s looking at the table where everyone is sitting. Where your friends are laughing, leaning into one another as they snap their final graduation photos. Where Geto has his lips pressed to Satoru’s cheek in a rare display of affection, arms linked with Shoko and Utahime. Where even Nanami’s smiling, the sunlight leafing through his golden waves of thick hair.

There’s no anger in Choso’s eyes, or even that solitary, brooding stare. He looks almost…sad. Profoundly sorrowful, in a deep and aching way that makes your anger dissipate.

He’s looking at your friends, at their graduation certificates stacked in sleeves on the table, as though he’s lost something that he never had. It aches your chest tightly, a knot pulling at your heart.

Once, he was Choso Kamo — the quiet boy you liked in school. Then, he became Choso from the café. Soon, he'll be someone whose name you won't even remember in a few years, someone who's path you'll probably never cross again.

You find yourself blinking furiously, feeling as though you've just lost something yourself, but you fight back the salt that threatens to blur your vision before your friends see.

THREE YEARS LATER.

Your day had started off deceptively well, like a glass of water poured perfectly. Clear, refreshing, with no chance of spilling. The sun was shining, your skin looked like it was having its best day, and there wasn’t a cloud in sight. But of course, it didn’t take long for things to spiral, as they tend to do.

It was like playing a real-life Sisyphus game, except instead of a boulder, it was a series of small, dumb annoyances that you couldn’t dodge fast enough.

First, Satoru had texted to cancel lunch. And to be fair, you weren’t that bothered. He had been talking all week about a world-renowned professor dropping in on his fourth-years Honours class, something about nuclear engineering. And you knew that Satoru lived for anything involving theoretical mass and explosions.

Then, your favourite tote bag had decided it was done with you. The strap had snapped off with a surprising, sudden violence. Your beautiful new water bottle had hit the floor with a sickening, metallic thud. Pens rolled across the tiles like little soldiers. You had been kneeling, already late for class, muttering curses under your breath when your phone had rung.

Your mother.

And you already knew that tone well enough, that voice that could cut through steel.

“You missed the charity dinner? You know how embarrassing it is for your father and I to come up with excuses, just to explain your absence —”

Yeah, like you had personally insulted her by choosing to study for your exams, instead of milling around an event hall. You tried to explain, but it was like trying to explain Satoru’s quantum physics to the wall. Totally pointless, and not worth your time and energy. And naturally, her tone escalated, because that’s what she just tended to do. Nevermind that she was calling from some ritzy hotel in Europe, crackling over the phone.

And then, just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, the course coordinator paged you in for a meeting. You were still in your first few weeks of medicine, so you had been scratching your brain for what he could have possibly wanted, snapping gum as you rushed and clacked up stone steps, breezing through campus.

Now, here you were. Standing in front of his desk with your arms crossed, almost petulantly. The room smelled like old coffee, and expired textbooks as the man coughed, leaning back against his desk, littered with academic transcripts and stacked envelopes.

“Look, there’s no denying that you’re one of our most brilliant students. All the tutors and lecturers admire your work ethic,” and the professor stopped, and you grimaced. Ah, here it comes.

“But, you’ve chosen Ieiri Shoko as your partner for the past three years, am I correct in saying this?” His dark eyes are narrowed behind wiry glasses, as you frowned.

“Yes.”

Shoko had practically excelled in Pre-Med alongside you, surviving late night study rants, extreme caffeine dependency, and textbook-induced breakdowns.

“You work together well,” the coordinator adds, looking like he was trying to make this sound like a compliment, “But you need to branch out. Develop your versatility. In a noble field, such as medicine, it’s important to be able to work with others. Not rule and conquer.”

You blink at him, “Branch out? I don’t know how else to say this, but I don’t like anyone else in my class. And Shoko and I are easily the best.”

He ignores your comments, “So, I’ve thought it better to move you to a new stream. Instead of Tuesday’s clinical practice, I’ll have you attend the Thursday session, starting today. There’s a new partner for you, and I assure you, he is just as competent as Ieiri Shoko,”

You doubt it. No-one can handle the sight of infected perineum stitches like Shoko can.

It seems there’s only one card left for you to pull, “My grandfather paid for this entire wing of the building. His name is on the plaque outside.”

The coordinator doesn’t even budge, “That may be true. But you still need to grow. You will never learn if you just continue to stick with what is familiar.”

You leave the office with a sour taste in your mouth, clutching the crisp sheet of paper that’s already being emailed to your student account, no doubt.

“Collaboration,” you’re muttering under your breath, “Building character, my ass.” You’re squinting at the page, trying to decipher the name of your new stream partner, but it’s obscured by a hastily scribbled note with your classroom change.

The faint ache in your neck refuses to budge, and you roll your shoulders with a sigh. Pushing through the double doors to the anatomy facility. Immediately, the frigid air bites at your cheeks, sharp and unwelcome. These buildings always feel like high-tech mausoleums, with tables lined up like gleaming altars. Surfaces cold enough to numb your fingertips if you’re careless.

The faint, cloying scent of formaldehyde hangs in the air, sharp and chemical. It’s supposed to preserve the cadavers, but it has the unfortunate side effect of making your stomach growl at the worst times. Hunger, and embalming fluid. A combination so disgusting that you try not to dwell on it for too long.

Your lab coat is rubbing uncomfortably against your arms, and your Loewe sweater is bunched awkwardly around your elbows. It’s a long-suffering sigh that echoes the hall as you shove the heavy barred doors to the classroom.

The tutor is a stalk-like man, with perpetually knitted brows, glancing up at you as you enter, “Ah, yes. The transfer,” he’s brisk with it, “Got the note about you moving to my Thursday stream. Just sit over there, for now. Yeah, there. Your partner should be along soon. If he’s a no-show, I’ll reassign you to a different table.”

You nod wordlessly, scanning the room as you head to your non-descript, assigned corner. The faces at the other tables blur together, some curious and others indifferent. Most focused on pushing worksheets under steel clipboards.

Great. A room full of strangers with all the warmth of wet cardboard.

Sliding into your plastic seat, you pull your notebook out and flip it open, the pages crinkling and echoing in the too-quiet room. It’s a minute, maybe two of shifting uncomfortably in your chair, feeling the awkward hollowness of sitting alone at a two-person station. But the door swings open with a groaning creak.

“Perfect! Full class today, that’s what I like to see. Just head to your usual spot, and I’ll start passing the models around.”

You glance up, squinting at the figure who’s broad enough to cause a solar eclipse of the fluorescent light.

“Get out,” you blurt.

“This is my class,” Choso Kamo stares at you, equally bewildered. His bronze eyes widen briefly, flickering from your face to the lab tables, to the unaware tutor.

“Don’t care. Get out,” you scowl, speechless for a moment, “No. Don’t sit. This is my assigned stream. Don’t tell me that you’re my —”

“Partner?” Choso finishes for you, deadpan.

“Of all the people in this entire school —”

“I’m starting to feel offended,” Choso cuts in, already pulling out the chair beside you, and slinging his bag down with an air of resignation.

“What are you doing here?”

Choso’s lips twitch, but he doesn’t quite smile, “I’m getting an education. Obviously.”

Your gaze flickers away from his unfairly handsome face, following the motion of his hand as he shifts. There’s a single black hair tie, looped around his wrist.

But something just does not add up for you. This isn’t just any medical program. It’s the kind of rigorous, cutthroat, soul-consuming degree that requires three years of a top GPA from Pre-Med. It’s designed to weed out the faint hearted before the first semester is even over. Graduates here don’t just get jobs. They get titles, and invitations to Westminster where the British monarch probably bestows them with Dame, or Sir, or some other archaic title.

And Choso Kamo is a high school dropout, with nary a certificate to his name.

“You got into medicine?” It’s as blunt as you can get.

“What? Like it’s hard?”

“Don’t quote Legally Blonde at me,” You snarl, wordlessly taking the tray of silicone gashes from the tutor.

Choso blinks, as though he’s truly stumped by your hostile reaction, “Then don’t ask stupid questions.” He seems…different now. Sharper, and less apologetic. There’s a streak of confidence that’s as unnerving as it is infuriating. Is he taller? He seems taller.

You exhale sharply, a sound between frustration and resignation. It’s not like you can go up to the course coordinator now and say, ‘Oh, sorry! I can’t be in this stream because my new partner is the boy who broke my heart in high school. I cried and threw up on my best friend’s blazer for three days.’

But you’ve definitely given the group chat enough material to fuel their devious amusement for days, even weeks. You’re practically writing the jokes for them.

With a defiant swing of your arm, you hoist your bag onto the desk. The soft leather tanking against the sterile surface, like a gauntlet being thrown. You slide it firmly into position, the strap dangling just enough to make a point. That this is your line in the sand.

“Don’t move one centimetre over your side of the desk.”

Choso just rolls his eyes.

“They…modify bacterial ribosomes.”

“Wrong.”

You sigh and tap the edge of your notebook with the tip of your mechanical pencil. The rhythm is irregular, your thoughts too scrambled to produce anything like a steady beat.

“They inactive carbapenems,” you try again, your tone pitched with the kind of hope that knows it’s already on life support.

“Nope.”

Choso’s shaking his head, the movement loose and lazy, and it sends strands of his chestnut hair tumbling into his face. The harsh fluorescent lights above make his hair shine with an almost metallic lustre, and as he tugs a thick sweater over his broad frame, your gaze drifts.

The fabric of his white top is riding up, revealing a pale stretch of skin. There’s the faintest dusting of dark hair trailing downwards, and your eyes snap back to the textbook. Your cheeks flushed, for the briefest second as your resolve breaks.

“Just tell me the answer.”

Choso exhales, in a soft and patient sound, sliding the textbook your way. He’s tapping the page with his finger, his blunt nail landing on the highlighted sentence.

“Extended-Spectrum Beta-Lactamases hydrolyse a wide range of beta-lactam antibiotics, including third-generation cephalosporins. This contributes to antibiotic resistance.” His voice is smooth, but it carries that faint rasp that always makes it sound like he’s just woken up.

“I was close.”

“Close doesn’t get you any marks,” Choso replies, deadpan.

Your retort dies on your glossy lips, when a sharp shhh cuts through the air. You glance up, spotting a student two tables away, glaring at you over the rim of her stylish tortoiseshell glasses.

Your next sip of coffee is deliberate, making an obnoxious gurgle as you drain the bottom of your cup. Choso’s eyes flick to the order scribbled on the side, Caramel Crunch Latte, Extra Whip. His lips twitch, but what can you say? Satoru’s dropped a habit or two on you over the years.

This has become the routine over the past few weeks. The outright disdain you had initially felt had eroded, once you had realised that you were truly stuck with the man. It had become something closer to a begrudging truce, but ‘truce’ may be too generous a word.

The two of you found yourselves studying together. Regularly. Choso needed to interact more with people, and less with his old, dusty laptop. And you needed a study partner that could match your wits. Unfortunately, Choso seemed entirely oblivious to the reason you nursed an ancient grudge against him, choosing to accept your bad attitude in stride.

It doesn’t help that Choso is, well, hot now.

In high school, he had always been cute in that underdog way. Endearing, if not exactly the type to inspire confidence. He had been the subject of your sweet trope-like fantasy that you would nurture during long, dull classes.

You, the radiant prom queen, standing under a canopy of glittering lights, extending a perfectly manicured hand to him. The shy, awkward loser who’d clearly underestimated how gorgeous his messy hair and tendency to trip over his own words were. Ugh, now you’re not sure who had been the bigger loser.

But three years had passed, and the Choso that sat across from you now bore only a passing resemblance to that daydream. Time, it seemed had been suspiciously kind to him. Unfairly, even. His frame was lean but undeniably defined. His shyness remained, because you knew that he refused to correct the woman at the food trucks whenever she got his name wrong, but it had softened into something less clumsy, and more self-contained. Far less teenage angst.

The dark violet smudges beneath his eyes were still there, giving him that haunted and sleep—deprived look. And his hair was still the same stringy, chestnut mop that you remembered. But it was more of a deliberate statement now, instead of an oversight. It hung just over his shoulders, and you had heard many a passerby giggle and whisper about hot emos on campus. Like, get in line.

“What are you doing next weekend?”

The question comes so abruptly that your head snaps up like a spring-loaded trap.

“Huh?” You blink, the tip of your pencil teetering dangerously close to snapping against the page.

Choso stares back at you, his expression maddeningly neutral, “Like, are you busy?”

“It’s my friend’s birthday on Saturday, we’re going out at night,” you’re narrowing your eyes at him, already feeling your composure fray.

It’s Suguru’s birthday, and Gojo’s gone full-out with a surprise planned at some five-star restaurant. You managed to get your hands on a vintage vinyl turntable for him, courtesy of a Sotheby’s auction.

Choso nods, like he’s filing that away somewhere, “What about Sunday?”

“Sunday?” You repeat, dragging it out, “I’m free, I guess.” Against all reason, you find yourself answering honestly, even as some internal voice is screaming at you to lie and make up an excuse.

“Do you want to study at my place?”

There’s a pause, long enough for the air to grow heavy between you two. You wonder if he remembers the last time that you asked him to go out with you. Your eyebrows shoot up, and your mouth must be twitching in something close to incredulity.

Choso notices, for his ears go pink first. Then his cheeks, like someone’s spattered him with a splotchy watercolour paint. The flush sits pretty, just under the dark mark that crosses the bridge of his nose, “No, I mean, like really study. Just studying. It’s easier than being here…” He twitches, looking anywhere but you, “Yuuji would be happy to see you again, and stuff.”

And stuff. How ridiculous that two words make your heart trip over itself. Your three-year resolve to keep him firmly in the do not touch zone has basically cracked wide open. There’s a traitorous smile tugging at the corner of your lips, but you manage to suppress it. Barely. Playing it off with a nonchalant hum.

“Hmm. Sure, I’ll think about it.”

Choso lives in an apartment now. Not a polished high-rise with sleek fixtures and panoramic views, but a tired and unremarkable building with flickering yellow lights that cast long and ominous shadows along the stairwell. You clutch the slip of paper that he scribbled his address on, squinting at the nearly illegible scrawl. It’s barely decipherable, a penmanship perfect for prescriptions and indecipherable notes.

In your other hand, you balance a box of cream rolls from the bakery that Nanami swears by, their golden horns stuffed with airy dairy and dusted with cinnamon sugar. The smell is warm and sweet, a sharp contrast to the questionable stairwell.

The ascent feels longer than it should, each step accompanied by the faint swing of those tired lights overhead. But you bite back any judgement, you’ve made that mistake before.

Someone else is already there, a tall figure that knocks on Choso’s door with wide, lazy knuckles. Once. Twice. The man huffs, pocketing his phone and pulling out a key. There’s a practiced ease to the way he clicks the lock open, and for a moment, you hesitate, wondering if you’re witnessing a breaking-and-entering type of situation.

But there’s something familiar about the muted shock of rosy, pink hair that spikes over his head.

“What are you doing?” His voice is rough, deep, with an edge of irritation that makes you stand a little straighter. He looks over you once, and his eyes fall on the box of pastries in your hands. Disinterest giving way to a little bit of curiosity. It reminds you of Itadori Yuuji.

“Uh,” you clear your throat, “Choso invited me.”

The man’s eyebrows lift in surprise, and you’re fascinated by the tattoos that curl around his face. Even running along his jawline, and down his neck. There are silver studs littering his ear, and if you didn’t know better, you would say that there are real precious stones scattered among them.

“Didn’t know he had a date.” The man seems gruffly amused, and you stomp your heels, the sound snapping off worn walls.

“It’s not a date. We’re studying.”

“Don’t care. Didn’t really ask.”

With that, he swings the door open, stepping inside before you can. You linger in the doorway, before hesitantly following him, watching as he kicks the door shut with his heel. He seems to be making himself at home like he owns the place, peering through an empty fridge and rifling through cabinets. All before collapsing on the sagging couch like it’s his throne, sprawled out as he starts scrolling through his phone again.

You just perch awkwardly on the edge of a cold chair, as the space suddenly feels oddly claustrophobic. Your fingers toy with the edge of your notebook, as you wonder whether you need to call Choso, to see if this was all a mistake. Instead, your gaze flickers over to the man sitting opposite you.

You’re sure that he comes from money. You’ve spent enough summer holidays backstage at Milan and Paris shows to recognise the season’s latest pieces. And the crimson racing jacket on his shoulders is definitely a Dior piece that costs more than what you assume is the rent of this entire apartment complex. Plus, you had spent enough time flicking through Van Cleef’s catalogue to recognise the whirring, high-jewellery piece that sat on his wrist. A watch with an eye-like mechanism, studded with Burmese rubies. Easily the price of your penthouse.

“So, you friends with Choso?” He asks suddenly, lowering his phone. His eyes are sharp russet, locking with yours.

“We know each other from high school,” you say, trying to keep your tone neutral. It’s best to leave it at that, it’s safer that way. You’re playing Choso’s game, the one where you don’t share a thing about your personal life.

“Hmph,” The sound is more of a grunt than a response, and it makes you bristle. Why bother asking a question if you’re not interested in the answer?

“Did I leave the door unlocked?”

You hear Choso’s faintly bewildered murmur, almost to himself, before he catches sight of you. It’s cute, how a bashful smile creeps over his face again, almost embarrassed at the sight of you. But it darkens instantly, sharply. His bronze eyes are fixed on the man that loiters on his couch.

“Get out.”

The man is unfazed, “Why? Am I interrupting your date?”

“It’s not a date. We’re studying.” Choso’s mirroring your exact, previous words. His tone is stiff, like you’ve never heard it before. A snarl, with irritation bubbling underneath the surface.

“I don’t know how else I can stress this enough, brat. But I really do not care what you do to get off.” The man drawls, pushing himself off the couch. He’s absurdly tall, easily the height of the ceiling. You catch a glimpse of the tattoos trailing up his forearm, dark ink that winds around his wrist. A startling splash of red staining the sleeve of the pristine jacket. It’s dried up now, crusting the edges of the fabric. Sort of like…

Weird. And impossible.

Choso grunts, “Fine. Get up. Go,” and he’s gesturing towards a door leading into another room, his jaw clenched tight. The muscles in his neck are taut, the apology in his expression at you somehow mixed with a faint flicker of regret, like he wishes you weren’t here to see this.

What happens next is an absolute masterclass on being nosy. You’ve edged closer to the door, shifting on the couch so you’re practically perched on the armrest. You can hear the muffled thrum of Choso and the stranger’s voice through the door, but it’s not enough. Curiosity is clawing her sharp nails at you, and you wonder if you should text Satoru. Or maybe drop a quick message in the group chat.

You end up leaning in closer, ignoring the way that you’re teetering on the very edge.

The conversation is low, like the rumble of thunder in the distance, but the voices are gradually building until —

“What? You did not just fuckin’ throw something at me!” The man’s voice booms so loud that you almost jump out of your skin, “What is wrong with you? Can’t even have an honest conversation these days?”

Choso’s response is tight, simmering with frustration that you don’t understand, “Nothing you do is honest. And don’t break into my place then!”

“Your place?” The man’s scoff is almost a sneer, like he’s amused at the mere thought, “Brat, let’s not forget all the favours I’ve done you.” There’s a crash, something hitting the floor with a thud, and the man’s voice bellows again, “Oi! Put that down right now. Don’t you dare throw something else at me. Fuck, you’ve got good aim, I’ll give ya’ that.”

You can hear Choso shuffle, spit something sharp in response.

“You’ve done all these things for me before, eh? Why the hesitation now? Got tired of cleaning it all up?”

Choso’s response is firm through the thin walls, “I’m done with doing your dirty work all the time.”

The silence that follows is thick, suffocating, punctuated with a low and disbelieving laugh.

“You said that last time. But you came crawling back when you couldn’t handle looking after the kid all on your lonesome.”

“Leave Yuuji out of this!”

There’s another muffled scuffle, a loud thud that makes your heart race as the stranger growls, “Can’t believe you bit me.”

The door swings open with a suddenness that almost knocks you off your seat. Choso’s practically putting his entire back into shoving the man out with a sharp grunt, like he’s had enough.

The stranger turns, giving you a lazy, bored wave. Like he knows that it will simply irk Choso off even more. And he’s right. Choso, not having it for a second, snaps at him, “Get out. And don’t come back.”

The man rolls his eyes, but not before pulling out a pricey Italian wallet, slapping a wad of thick bills down on the kitchen counter, “That’s for this month. I’ll send a cheque next month for the little brat’s birthday.”

Then he’s gone, muttering something about bitchy, little bastard children, born on the wrong side of the sheets, with sharp teeth.

Choso’s whirling around to you, his expression unreadable and blank. Like the surface of still water that refuses to betray even a ripple of emotion. You school your features, meeting his gaze with a look of equal, quiet disinterest.

“Friend of yours?” You ask, your voice cool. But there’s questions dancing on the tip of your tongue, and you can taste them in the air.

He doesn’t answer right away. He’s flicking through the thick stack of bills that the stranger left on the counter. The sound of cash shifting in his hands is oddly loud, and you whistle low, almost involuntarily. It makes Choso look up, catching your appreciative gaze. His fingers tighten around the stack, his jaw clenching, as if to keep in whatever thoughts or words are threatening to spill out.

“Don’t say anything.” His voice is a low mutter, hard.

“I didn’t.”

Choso looks at you again, his hazel eyes softening just enough that you catch the flicker of something unsure. He lets out a low sigh, “But you want to ask.”

“Will you let me ask?” You’re pushing, your voice a little softer and coaxing than you intended. You can already see the signs, the slight stiffening of his shoulders, the way his gaze flickers to the door as if he’s considering an exit. Choso’s like a clam, snapping shut, as if there is a pearl that he’s not ready to share.

“What do you want to know?” He’s saying this like it’s a chore, as if it is the last thing he wants to do.

You make your way to the kitchen counter, “What will you tell me?”

If Choso is irritated by the vague, passive nature of your questions, he doesn’t show it. He simply tugs his purple sweater down, sharply. “Yuuji will be sad if his uncle didn’t send him money for his birthday. He turns ten next month.”

“So that was…Uncle Kuna,” you ask, murmuring more to yourself than to him. But Choso’s sharp gaze flicks to you, a faint confirmation in the nod that follows.

“Mhm.”

And just like that, something clicks in your brain. A conversation that you had overheard once, perhaps a year or two ago. A rare moment that both your parents had been home, still too distracted to realise that you were listening. The realisation hits you hard, like a small shot of adrenaline, “That’s not Sukuna, is it? Ryomen Sukuna?”

Choso’s amber look is like fragile glass now, “Yeah. How’d you figure?”

In a world such as yours and Satoru’s, it’s quite hard to avoid gossip, and whispers that float around in the backrooms of business meetings, or in the too-quiet halls of private clubs. For all the older business-clans, Sukuna is quite the upstart. A man who clawed his way to the top, not just content with money, but power and influence as well. Apparently, he made quite the name for himself, building an empire with wealth beyond measure.

And all at the low price of being wanted in more than thirty-five countries and territories. A businessman, a crook and a criminal. Your father said that Ryomen Sukuna’s ledgers were written in red ink, fresh blood for both personal and financial debts that were owed to him.

“Why did he say that you came crawling back to him?”

Choso’s eyes flutter shut, and you can see that he’s calculating whether it’s worth the effort to respond.

“He’s the reason I dropped out of school,” Choso mutters, the words low enough that almost don’t catch them. They land with a soft thud, the kind that makes your pulse stutter. You stare at him, with the kind of look that people give when a ticking time bomb has just been dropped in their lab.

Choso scoffs, eyes darting away, “Yeah. He’s always been sending money for Yuuji. And I was stuck doing his…favours.”

Suddenly, you’re back in high school. On Choso’s doorstep, watching him try to hide a cardboard box of surgical tools. There’s a little corkboard map in your head connected with red strings, as you pin other things on there. The latex gloves in the box, Choso’s general lack of squeamish misery when it comes to the stickier parts of medicine, and the bloodstain on Ryomen Sukuna’s Dior jacket.

It’s almost odd, in a morbid way, that a crime boss chooses the latest Vogue streetwear, instead of a dark Godfather suit and a cigar.

Your expression must betray the pieces that you’ve put together, because Choso’s eyes widen, like he can see the cogs turning in your brain. “Look,” he stammers, voice rougher now, with a nervous edge, “I didn’t do anything wrong. Never saw what he did. Not really. Just —”

You shush him gently, a hand reaching out to land on his, a little too quickly and a little too hot. The instant your skin brushes against his, there’s a sharp feeling. Like you’ve touched something that burns beneath the surface. His face flashes a faint pink, muscles stiffening as though your touch seared him in a way he wasn’t prepared for.

“Go on,” you hope that your tone is reassuring.

Choso swallows, his throat bobbing as his fingers suddenly curl around yours, “Anyway, I got tired of doing his dirty work, you know? Thought that if I dropped out, I could get a job. Work enough to support myself and Yuuji, without taking a single dollar from him.”

“But he’s your uncle?” Your question is tentative, like you’re testing the waters of a deeper pool, “Wouldn’t he support you, too?”

Choso’s sigh is deep and weary as he gently corrects you, “He’s Yuuji’s uncle. Yuuji’s my half-brother.”

Suddenly, Sukuna’s comment about ‘biting bastard children’ snaps into place with clarity. Oh.

You’re not sure what to say now, what words could possibly fill the emptiness that lingers between the two of you. What a misery it would have been. Being a teenager with such potential, forced to close off your own future for the sake of family, and those that you love.

You remember Choso’s face that day, after graduation, with his hollow expression as he watched your friends celebrate their youth. There’s a bitter lump in your throat, but for once, you keep it down. This really isn’t about you.

You frown, the thought sneaking up on you and settling in your chest like a splinter you can’t ignore. “He said you owed him favours.”

Choso exhales sharply, his shoulders stiffening as if bracing for something unpleasant. His voice is low, bitter. “You think high school dropouts pay their own way into med school without a benefactor?”

Right.

“So?” Choso’s voice cuts through the fog of your thoughts, and you blink at him, startled.

“So, what?”

Choso shifts, unease seeping into his posture. His calloused fingers are still curled tightly around yours, like he’s afraid that you’ll pull away and slip past him.

“Are you angry?”

You’re not sure whether to laugh, or sigh, “Why would I be angry?”

He’s hesitating, dark hair falling loose around his face, “I was a jerk to you.” The words come quietly, like they’ve been gnawing at him, biting at the edges of his thoughts, “At the time, I don’t know, I guess I was just angry. Everything felt unfair, and I didn’t want anyone else to be involved.”

You frown, not fully understanding what to say, “You were still a teenager,” you say slowly, like you’re trying to convince both him and you. You hesitate, unsure whether you’re underplaying things, so the worlds come out a little jagged, not quite as comforting as you wished. “I guess…” It feels weak as your words suddenly stagger off.

Choso’s eyes flicker to yours, searching, like he’s trying to figure if there’s something else, you’re not saying, “What?”

You can practically hear Satoru’s voice in your heard, groaning and whining about screwing the long game. But you puff a breath through your cheeks, worried you’ll lose the nerve, “You know, I really liked you, right, Choso?”

Choso’s mouth drops open, as his face flickers with disbelief. The same way it had three years ago, “Like, really?”

You nod, a smile tugging at your lips without even thinking, “Yeah. And you know, everyone else thought I was being, like, silly. But I really liked you. I just never knew what to say to you.” It feels so stupid, and obvious now. But back then, it had been a great chunk of your world. You force yourself to hold his bashful gaze.

Choso’s quiet for a moment, before he admits, “I couldn’t believe it when you asked me to be your date. I thought it was just a game you were playing, or there was no-one left to ask.”

And then, after a beat, “Who did you go with?”

You snicker, a little too bitter and honest, “No-one.”

Choso’s quiet, relieved ‘damn’ makes you laugh even more, threading your fingers with his.

“I just can’t believe he’s in your classes. What are the odds?” Satoru mutters, abandoning his sunglasses for the evening, his bright eyes flashing like sunlight refracted on water. He claims that his eyes are less sensitive today, but you’re certain it’s an excuse for him to freely rifle through your kitchen without obstruction. In the living room, the rest of your friends hover like a pack of starved hyenas, waiting for the snacks that Satoru is currently monopolising.

“I’m telling you, when I first saw him, my heart dropped straight to my ass,” you say, tearing open a bag of sour cream crisps with more force than necessary. The chips tumble into the earthenware bowl in a noisy cascade.

Satoru snickers, expertly arranging small platters on a big, oaken serving board, “I pity the lack of cushioning it got.”

You flick a stray crisp at him, the chip bouncing off his shoulder with a gratifying crunch. For a moment, his grin is steady, but it quickly turns rueful. That slight furrow in his brows, the way the corner of his mouth twitches downwards. There’s something else simmering under that veneer of carelessness.

“You’re not happy, Satoru?”

His expression hardens slightly, plucking a cluster of wine-red grapes, twisting them off their stems with methodical precision.

“Well, yeah,” Satoru admits after a beat, his tone uncharacteristically sober, “I’m glad that he’s, like, nice now or whatever. But he basically broke your heart, didn’t he?”

You glance away, your fingers tighten on the corner of another snack bag, “He had his reasons.” Your flat reply avoids his curious gaze, perceptive and knowing. You hadn’t filled him on the Sukuna-lore. You’re not sure what it is, but there’s bad blood between the Gojos and Sukuna, and you’re not keen to exacerbate it.

Oh, hey, Satoru! So, Choso is like Sukuna’s adopted nephew. And I think Sukuna forced him to like clean up people’s chopped fingers and arms, or whatever. But I have a big crush on him, yep. Right after I said that I wouldn’t catch feelings again.

Satoru scoffs, wagging a long finger at you. A glistening droplet of grape juice clings to his thumb like a ruby bead, “Don’t make excuses for someone hurting your feelings. You know better than that.” His tone carries the same theatrical lilt as always, but it’s underpinned with something firmer, genuine.

Before you can fire back, a new voice meanders into the kitchen, soft and unhurried, “Who hurt your feelings?”

It’s Suguru, propped lazily against the doorway, choppy layers freshly framing his sharp features. The dim kitchen light catches on the faint sheen of his silver rings as he crosses his arms.

Satoru grabs a bag of pretzels, lobbing it towards him, “Choso Kamo. Remember that emo guy I told you about?”

Suguru catches the bag with practised ease, without looking, his mauve gaze flicking to you. You silently curse Gojo Satoru for broadcasting your love life, or lack thereof, to what feels like half the city.

“What’s he look like again?”

You narrow your eyes at the tall man, “He was literally in our grade.”

Suguru shrugs, his palms raised in mock innocence, “I never saw him, okay? He was quiet as hell, never had classes with him.”

“He wasn’t that quiet,” you protest, but your words are drowned out by Satoru’s triumphant declaration.

“Hold up! I got visual aid.”

He’s whipped out his phone, unlocking it with a brief glance of his face, before shoving the dimmed screen inches from Suguru’s puzzled face. The photo, a grainy yearbook photo of Choso in junior year, gleams under the kitchen lights. You wonder if you’re going to need to fight for your life on the frontlines again.

For a moment, Suguru’s expression remains neutral. Unimpressed even. Then, as if someone’s flipped a switch, his eyes widen with dawning recognition, “This is Kamo? His girlfriend’s my neighbour.”

Half a grape travels down Satoru’s windpipe, “The villain!”

Your best friend’s exclamation ricochets off the kitchen walls, loud enough to silence whatever protest was forming on your lips. Not that you had much ground to stand on. How would you even know? Choso had talked to you about his family, not his love life. You saw him a few times a week, and then the two of you would drift away, back to your own orbits. And he was a grown man with a life that had surely moved past you.

You had told him that you had liked him, and he hadn’t said a word back that hinted at any mutual connection. How had you missed that?”

Satoru is still recovering from his near demise at the hands of fruit, “What girlfriend? You’re sure, Suguru?”

Suguru raises an eyebrow, looking like he regrets ever opening his mouth, “Hey. Don’t pin this on me. But he comes by, with a little pink-haired kid. His brother? And she’s like talkative,” and he gestures vaguely above his head, “Like, really tall. Blonde.”

Your eyes had drifted to the unopened case of vodka sitting on the counter.

Satoru clocks you immediately, “Don’t even think about it. We’re going to handle this like mature adults.”

“We?”

Satoru nods solemnly, looping his arm through Suguru’s leather jacket, “Yes. Your Choso loss is my Choso loss,” and he pulls Suguru closer, “Our Choso loss.”

Suguru sighs, not shaking him off as he looks at you sympathetically, “Why am I a part of this? No offense. You could skip all this misery, and I don’t know because I’m just spit balling here, ask him?”

The dark-haired man continues, “Or, and I know this is radical for two divas like you, you could just let it go and spare yourself the drama. If you’re going to be working in the same field, wouldn’t professionalism be better?”

Satoru scoffs, “Or! We do some reconnaissance. I mean, you’re the girlfriend’s neighbour, Suguru. Go snoop around.”

“Why is it always me?” Suguru’s pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Because it is always you. You’ve got the best sneaky liar face I know,” Satoru replies breezily, ignoring how Suguru mutters about the love he feels in this kitchen, “And you need to do this for the greater good. All that noble shit.”

Suguru shoots you a half-hearted glare, as if this is somehow your fault, and not Satoru pulling every string. You’re one more inconvenience away from slumping onto the counter, head in hands, a shot glass by your side.

Your mind flickers to the hair tie that Choso always wears on his wrist. It could be innocuous, sure, but the green-eyed monster claws itself up in your chest. You imagine this faceless girlfriend passing it to him, like an intimate, inside joke.

“What am I supposed to do? Corner him in the break room on placements, and interrogate him? Should I pull out the clan funds, and pay him to date me?”

“It’s what I did with Suguru,” Satoru quips, not missing a beat.

“Now who’s the liar,” Suguru murmurs.

The hospital’s looming ahead. A hulking mass of glass and steel that outline the bleak sky. It’s a bitter Monday morning, the kind that bites at your cheeks and sinks into your bones, no matter how tightly you bundle up. The drive has been long and so utterly tedious, the pale sunlight doing little to brighten the cityscape as you crawl along congested streets.

Now, on the far edge of the suburbs, you’re left squinting and fuming as you circle the parking lot for the third time. The situation is grim, spots are scarce, and every turn feels like an ill-fated gamble that only ends in someone else’s bumper.

You mutter curses under your breath, the heater in your car doing little to thaw your mood.

Choso’s already there, not a massive surprise, for his apartment is far closer than your waterfront residence, smack-bang in the city’s central district. His dark hair is loosely tied back, and he’s thrown an old hoodie over his scrubs. There’s a clipboard tucked under his arm, and a coffee cup in the other.

He extends the cup towards you without preamble, “Want it?”

You blink, catching on the incongruity of the gesture. But Suguru’s intel still echoes in your mind, he has a girlfriend.

You furrow your brow, the cup hovering between you, “Where’s yours?”

Choso shrugs, “I don’t drink coffee. Makes me jittery.”

This answer irritates you for no logical reason. Who doesn’t drink coffee? It feels like some fundamental character flaw, and you snatch the cup from his hand. Doing your very best not to unfairly glare at him, for the sole crime of having a life outside of you.

It’s hard to focus when he’s nailed your exact order. You lower the cup, the warmth seeping through the cardboard sleeve and into your fingers, doing little to melt the icy knot that sits in your chest.

Choso seems almost unnervingly chipper this morning, a far cry from his usual brooding demeanour. There’s no scowl etched on his handsome face, no trace of his typical stoicism. Instead, he wears the faintest trace of a smile, a subtle and almost tentative thing that pulls at the corners of his mouth as he glances over a nearly printed itinerary.

The sight throws you further off-kilter. It’s rare to see him like this, easy and unguarded, and you can’t help the way your lips twitch, the barest hint of a smile threatening to escape before you smother it.

“We’re starting in the ER for two hours,” he reads aloud, voice steady, “then, the paediatric unit.” He pauses to flip the page, his expression shifting to mild exasperation, “And then, paperwork in the break room.”

“Figures,” you grumble, tucking your hands into your coat pockets, “Free labour from the students, yeah?”

Choso glances at you, from the corner of his eye, an unimpressed but faintly amused look on his face, “Thought that you would start the day with a more upbeat attitude.”

You grunt in response, which only earns a shake of his head as he folds the itinerary back into his clipboard.

A beat of silence stretches between you, only punctured by the sound of light metal snapping as you clip a badge to your pocket, but he’s speaking again.

“You good?”

His bronze eyes flick to yours, clearly searching, and your pulse stutters, “Yeah. Obviously.”

Choso takes a deep breath, his chest rising and gearing up for something monumental. The way his fingers fidget against the clipboard betrays him, they tap out a staccato rhythm. There’s a flush creeping on the back of his neck, subtle but unmistakeable.

“Want to get dinner tonight?” He blurts, the words tumbling out so fast that they barely sound like a sentence.

You blink at him, confused, “Bless you.” Your automatic response, because he spoke so quickly that it sounded as though he had sneezed.

Choso’s scowl is immediate, “No.” He says it firmly, drawing out each word in exasperation, “I asked if you wanted to get dinner tonight. After this.”

Oh. Oh.

The realisation hits you like a jolt, and for a second, all you can do is gape at him. He’s looking at you now, an almost defiant sort of expectation in his gaze, as though he’s worried that you’re going to laugh at him. But before you piece together a coherent response, there’s a sharp rap-rap-rap of knuckles on the doorframe.

The ward manager is here, her expression brisk and no-nonsense, gesturing for the two of you to begin your shift placement.

Your head snaps back at him, mouth moving before your brain diplomatically catches up, “I don’t think that’s fair to your girlfriend, do you?”

Choso’s brows knit together, his expression shifting to something startled and indignant. Irritated, even, as you push past him.

He’s trying to speak to you. It’s painfully obvious, as he’s got that mildly dazed look. All that awkward, earnest attention is squarely focused on you.

You’re having none of it.

He steps to your side as you shuffle through patient charts, his broad frame taking up more than his fair share of narrow space, shadowing your elbow as you scribble furious notes. His mouth opens, probably to say something that you don’t want to hear, but you’re faster.

“Hey, Choso, what’s her blood pressure?” You interrupt, not bothering to look up from the faintly lined paper.

There’s a second of hesitation before he answers, “120 over 50. Just write that down. Got it? Okay, yeah, can you stop moving for a second and —”

You squint at the chart, cutting him off again, “Hmm, don’t you think that the diastolic is a little low?”

His shoulders slump, “Yes, but the doctors already know that. She has hypothyroidism, you told me that when you interrupted me like half an hour ago. Can’t you just —” Choso stops mid-sentence again, muttering a resigned oh my god, when you pivot away and head to the next room without so much a glance back.

It sets the tone for the rest of the shift. You make a sport of avoiding him, weaving through the emergency department like a fish slipping upstream, leaving Choso stranded in your wake. He follows, persistent in his mild-mannered way, but you’re relentless.

“Can you hand me that chart?” He’s trying again, as you’re elbow deep in filing.

“Oh, this one?” You sweetly ask, holding it just out of his reach, before conveniently remembering that you need to double-check something on it. He just huffs at you.

By hour three, it’s clear that Choso’s patience is wearing thin, and fighting a war against his professionalism. He corners you near the supply cart while you rummage for gloves.

“There you are.”

“Oh, are we low on size medium?” You cut in, loud enough to catch the attention of a passing manager, “Should we restock?”

Choso inhales through his nose, “We’re not low on gloves. We’re fine on gloves. Can you stop talking about gloves for one second?”

You flash him a smile that’s all teeth, “Gloves are important, Choso. Hygiene is crucial.”

This time, you see him run an exasperated hand over his face, before realising that now he’s just contaminated his own pair of gloves. Snarling at you as he rips the blue latex off and reaching for the size large box.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, once and then twice. Then thrice, as if whoever’s contacting you as something urgent to say. You ignore it, you’ll check it after placements.

The hours tick by, and your strategy remains the same. Stay busy, stay distant, and stay unreachable. Don’t make it seem like you’re irrationally bothered by Choso having a life of his own and having a girlfriend. Or that you actually had hope that this time round, his feelings for you were requited.

By the time you both stumble into the break room, Choso looks as if he’s experienced the full emotional spectrum, like he’s been knocked through the five stages of grief and landed somewhere in the resigned space of acceptance. He looks as if he’s clearly preparing to lecture you, to tirade you on professional conduct and —

Without warning, his phone buzzes.

You don’t even look up from cracking open your water bottle, the sound of plastic barely crinkles louder than the dull thud of your own heartbeat. Choso glances at you out of the corner of his eyes, a flash of alarm crossing his face, before he draws his attention back to the screen of his phone.

You hear the faintest scoff from his direction, and he’s shaking his head as you watch in mild interest.

“What?”

Choso doesn’t answer immediately, still scrolling through his phone.

“I’m not dating Tsukumo Yuki.”

Your mouth goes dry. You blink rapidly, wide-eyed as if he’s just spoken in an ancient, dead language.

“What?” You manage weakly, “Who? What? —”

There’s a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, and you fear the cause of this slow and curling chest is a meddling duo of two men, one with dark hair and the other with snowy-white.

Choso doesn’t even glance up at you, his voice tinged with something incredulous now, “Why is Gojo Satoru texting me? He says that you’re not replying to his or Geto Suguru’s messages. And apparently, this is super urgent, and he feels like he must do his divine duty by interfering before you do something stupid.

Choso pauses, finally looking at you as if he’s truly baffled, “And you all thought that I was dating Tsukumo.”

You’re crafting a list in your head. Twenty creative ways to kill Gojo Satoru and not land in prison afterwards.

Maybe you should ask Choso for Ryomen Sukuna’s contact.

“That’s crazy,” you say, the words tasting thin and hollow in a bitter, embarrassed lie.

Choso shakes his head at you, some dark strands of hair falling across his eyes, “She looks after Yuuji sometimes. I take him over to her place because Yuki’s adopted a kid, Todo. The two of them are friends.”

“Uh.”

Choso turns back to his phone screen, scrolling through whatever nonsense Satoru is feeding him, “Have you being icing me out all day, because you thought I had a girlfriend?”

“Will you hate me if I say yes?” You’re looking anywhere but him, focusing on the chipped, lilac paint on the break-room door. Or the slightly off-centre light bulb flickering above. Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you’re adding Geto Suguru to your kill list.

Choso’s voice is softer when he answers, almost too quiet, “Hey. You know I couldn’t hate you if I tried.” But there’s a strange mixture of amusement and disbelief in his voice, a bemused chuckle that lingers in the air, “Wow. Just wow.”

You grimace, fingers toying with the edge of the water bottle as you wrangle your thoughts into words, “Are you mad? I mean, look. I told you I liked you. And then you held my hands, so I thought you liked me back. And you got me coffee. But Suguru said you had a girlfriend, and you can’t blame me for being — Oh my god, I’m going to stop talking, you’re looking at me like I’ve gone crazy.”

Choso’s expression shifts, just staring at you. You don’t more than a split-second to process his strangely intense look. There’s no time to recover before he leans down, his hands surprisingly warm and gentle as they cradle the side of your face.

Your breath hitches, but before you can form another thought, his lips are on yours. They’re warm, deliberate and surprisingly firm. The scent of crisp green apples falls over you, as his hair envelops your face.

He pulls back just enough to study you, “Was that okay?” he asks, his fingers still lingering at the curve of your jaw, like he can’t believe he just kissed you. You can feel the sharp blush sting your face, as your heart practically goes into cardiac arrest, nodding quickly.

“Uh, I’m not really an expert in this field,” Choso murmurs, “But I can’t believe that I waited this long to do that.”

“You can do that again,” you say. Wondering if you should buy Satoru and Suguru a bouquet of flowers instead.

Choso, predictably, blushes deep enough that it nearly looks like he might combust. His eyes flicker away, avoiding your gaze in that way he does when he’s trying to sort through his emotions. But it’s hard to miss the warm flush that’s firmly planted on his neck.

“Can I do it over that dinner?” Choso murmurs, his voice dipping lower, before he quickly rephrases, “I obviously do want to kiss you now, again, that is, but if they catch us in the break room —”

You suddenly beam up at him, patting him on the cheek, “You can kiss me as much as you like over dinner.”

Choso looks as though he’s been struck with a metaphorical thunderbolt, as if he didn’t expect you to agree so straightforwardly. And then, as if he can’t help himself, he presses a quick and soft kiss to your forehead. For the briefest second, it feels as if you’re a teenager again, caught in the whirlwind of something simple and so sweet.

“Okay. So, is that a yes?” He asks, a little breathless, as if he’s not sure what kind of confirmation he’s just gotten but needing it to hear it anyway.

“If it’s a proper date, it’s a yes.”

Choso mutters under his breath, “You know Geto Suguru texted me with a five-paragraph apology, something about sneaking around my apartment. Stalking me this morning,” and here, he looks at you, utterly exasperated but fond, “Something about checking to see if I had a girlfriend. I mean, I don’t even know the guy. We never talked in school.”

You loop your arm with his, pulling him in slightly, “See, I always did say my friends were super nice. They’re going to be super nice, and normal. Trust me.”

ONE WEEK LATER.

“And to my brother-in-law, my brother-in-arms, my brother in the Constantinople Crusades of 1204,” Satoru hiccups, his words slurring together in a rambled mess, as he sways over the edge of Suguru’s arms, and for a split second, you’re worried the white-haired man is going to tip over entirely, “My new brother, Choso. We always knew it was going to happen, eh?”

Choso’s cheeks turn a faint shade of crimson in the sudden spotlight as everyone cheers, and he shifts awkwardly. Suguru’s shooting him an apologetic look, the corners of his mouth twitching as he props Satoru up, “He’s a lightweight. And we watched a historical movie last night.”

“I can tell,” Choso grumbles, his face flushed now as Satoru’s monologue drifts like an aimless plastic bag in the wind, his words growing nonsensical as you reach over to pinch at his cheeks. He yelps but continues to babble on about how he and Choso are going to be best friends now, and they’re going to go shopping together, and ice-skating, and fruit-picking. All nonsense burbles being strung together by the tequila shots that Satoru swore he could handle an hour ago.

You glance over at Choso, faintly embarrassed, but he just laughs, a sound that’s unexpectedly light and unguarded. His fingers slide into yours once more, and the motion is gentle and natural, as though this, you, are exactly where he’s meant to be. And he drapes the wide expanse of his aviator jacket over your shoulders.

Meanwhile, Suguru is wrestling with Satoru, pushing him back down from his impromptu toast to your boyfriend, before the bartender can usher you all towards the exit. The burly man is already giving Satoru’s drunken proclamations a nasty look.

Shoko, of course, is grinning at you, a tankard of beer glimmering in front of her. Her eyes gleam with the sharpness of someone who’s won a decent amount of money in a bet. And Utahime is standing back with a faintly judgemental expression that only veils her gossipy curiosity, and a glum look as she passes wads of cash into Shoko’s waiting hands.

“They really do like me,” Choso murmurs, his voice low and almost carrying the undertone of vulnerability, alongside some quiet self-awareness.

You laugh, brushing your thumb over the back of his hand, leaning in to press a quick peck to the dark mark that streaks over his face, “They all have no choice. You’re my boyfriend now.”

The words slip out effortlessly, and for a moment, they hang between you like something solid and unspoken, as though saying it aloud has made it feel real in a way it never quite did before. Choso’s eyes flick to yours, and something shifts in his expression — just a slight softening around the edges.

Then, without warning, you lean in, closing the distance between you, and kiss him. It’s slow, deliberate, with none of the frantic energy of your first kiss but instead the quiet certainty of something just beginning to bloom. You feel the faintest sigh from Nanami in the background, the sound of Geto groaning as Gojo whoops with drunken delight.

The noise from the bar fades into nothing as you focus entirely on the warmth of Choso’s shy lips against yours, the gentle pressure as he presses more into you, the soft thud of his heartbeat where your hand rests over his chest. For that moment, it’s just you and him, and everything else is an afterthought.

“Okay! I’ve had enough of the lot of you snogging and yelling in my bar! And take stupid Jack Frost out with ya’!”

[shinski-chan]

❛❛𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚢 𝚍𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚔 𝚊𝚜𝚜❞

synopsis: it was just one of the random days where jungwon is going out with his hyungs to have fun, but it was also one of those days that reminds you how clingy he gets when he's drunk.

paring: drunk!jungwon x fem!reader

word count: 2.1k+

notes: featuring jake, fluff, petnames, clinginess, mention of alcohol, suggestive

the sound of the papers rustling filled the room as you fixed the pile of papers on your desk, getting ready to leave the workplace. you glanced at your watch only to find out it was almost twelve midnight.

you pulled your phone from your pocket, frowning as you received none from jungwon. staring at the last text he sent you earlier.

baby, just want to remind you it's d-day. i don't want you to get mad later when i get home just because you forgot😇 love you!

you couldn't help but to roll your eyes, realizing that you had actually forgotten about his plans. the boys hit him up to go out for a drink, and in all honesty, you're not the type to hold him back from having fun and being with his friends because, aside from the fact that you trust him enough, you knew for sure that he needed to spend time with his friends anyway, because not everything is all about you.

after fixing all the mess on your desk, you finally grabbed your keys and told your coworkers that you would be heading out first.

it didn't take you long, and you finally arrived in the parking lot. you immediately got inside the car and tossed your bag on the passenger seat. one hand on the wheel, starting the car, and the other one holding your phone, dialing jungwon's number.

with a few rings, he answered the phone. you put the phone in between your head and shoulder, your eyes focused on turning the wheel to get out of the parking.

"heading home?" he asked on the other line. you could hear the loud music in the background, and you couldn't help but to grimace.

"yeah, i'm already on my way home," you said, still focused on driving out of the building. "don't even think about going home completely wasted, i swear... you'll be sleeping outside," you reminded him, and all you heard was just a soft chuckle, already knowing he was tipsy.

"nah, i don't think you'd let me sleep outside, knowing all too well that i'm uncomfortable," he said. confidence was evident in his voice, and you could already tell he was smirking in the other line. "tell, jake to take you home... i won't be able to pick you up," you said because you had planned on picking him up from the bar.

"will do, just rest. i'll be home by two," he said, assuring you he'd be home by that time.

"yeah, make sure you can still walk straight, because if not, you know what will happen," you told him, and you earned a laugh in response. "you're mean," he replied shortly, which made you smile a little. "get some rest as soon as you get home, hm? i love you," he added, and with that the conversation ends.

it took you over an hour to drive before you finally arrived in your unit. you immediately changed your clothes into something more comfortable before settling in the bed, feeling the weight of exhaustion all over you after the long hours of work.

on the other hand, jungwon couldn't help but drink himself in a complete haze. he didn't even realize how much drink he had, and now... he was really... wasted.

"yah! i told you to not drink too much," jake said, exasperated, hands on his hips as he stared at jungwon, who was now half-collapsed on the table.

"i should've known we were both getting buried six feet under," jake added, pinching his nose and looking up as if he were regretting his life decisions. with a heavy sigh, he dragged jungwon out of the bar and told the guys that he's taking him home.

curled up in bed with your blanket on. you were sleeping so peacefully—not until a ring from your phone jerked you awake. you frowned before slightly opening your eyes. you thought, who in their right mind would be calling at this hour when you're having the most heavenly, out of this world sleep? with a slight groan, you quickly grabbed your phone and didn't bother to check who was calling.

"y/n, uhm... we're outside your unit." you heard jake's voice on the other line, which made you glance at the caller... and of course, it was won's phone.

from what you just heard, you knew damn well that for the nth time, he didn't listen and went overboard drinking... again.

you sighed, massaging your temple before answering, "alright, alright, wait a sec." you ended the call, quickly hopped out of the bed, threw on your slippers, and marched towards the front door. the moment you opened it, jake was already standing there, jungwon's arm slung over his shoulder...

"i'm not drunk..." jungwon mumbled, which made you scratch your head. you quickly glanced at the clock. "great, he was on time..." you muttered, trying to calm yourself down. you knew all too well that you were about to deal with his clingy drunkenness from this moment...

"i'm really sorry y/n, i promise..." jake said, raising his right arm before he continued. "i really told him to not drink too much," he said in defense, which made you chuckle as you pulled jungwon's arm, placing it over your shoulder.

"i know, i know... this little thing just doesn't know how to control himself," you told jake and he sighed in relief, holding his chest as if he'd escaped death.

"thanks for taking him home," you said, and jake nodded his head before finally bidding you goodbye. you started dragging jungwon towards your room.

"babyyy," he called out. you sighed... but didn't respond. instead you kept walking him towards the room, but he suddenly stopped, which made you stop too.

"what did i tell you?!" you said, slightly annoyed. his head turned to you, and there you saw a pout forming on his lips. "but i am not drunk," he protested, but you just gave him a frown.

"i missed you," he said, leaning closer to kiss you, but you leaned away. which made him whine, "babyyy," even in his state, he somehow managed to pull you in and give you a kiss.

"tsk, don't make things difficult for us both, jungwon." you firmly said as you started dragging along.

"oh, so we are on a first name basis now, huh?" he teased, raising his brows. you didn't answer, hoping to avoid any drama.

when you both entered the room, you gently laid him down on the bed, but knowing his state like this... he pulled you along with him, rolling over; now he's on top of you.

"baby! you're too heavy!" you protested, giving his arm a light smack, but he only nestled his head comfortably on your chest, wrapping his arms around your frame.

"just for a few minutes, please?" he mumbled, his eyes shut, leaving you with no choice. you sighed as your hand instinctively moved, reaching up to gently stroke his hair.

"baby, do you love me?" his voice barely above whisper.

"what do you think?" you shot back, earning a soft whimper from him.

"i am asking you, why are you asking me back?" he pouted, and you chuckled at his clinginess.

"obviously, yes. what else do you think?" you said, still teasing him.

"that's not how you answer!" he protested, and you just knew for sure he was already pouting his lips.

"but seriously?" he pressed, his tone more serious.

"of course, i love you." you said softly. "why'd you ask that? do you feel like i'm not giving you much attention?" you asked, looking down at him.

he immediately looked up to you, his eyes a little hazy. "mhm, yeah" he shortly replied, and you couldn't help but to pinch his nose.

"you're always buried in work, every day, every night, every minute, every second... even milliseconds," he sulked.

"you're exaggerating," you commented, shaking your head.

"sometimes i think you forget that you have a baby to take care of," he said with a little giggle, making you laugh too.

"i'm sorry," you murmured, feeling a little bit of guilt because you know you've been really swamped with your work lately.

"but seriously, i missed you," he said, and you saw how his lips formed a downward smile. "i missed you more," you replied, leaning in to give him a gentle forehead kiss.

"baby, time is up. go get changed," you said, lightly tapping his arm, but he won't even move an inch.

"bebi, come on," you coaxed, running a hand through his hair. "but i don't wanna," he whined, wiggling a little before burying his face in your neck, snuggling even closer, his warm breath sending a tingle through you.

"you have to change your shirt first, look at you. you're so uncomfortable," you half scolded, but he didn't respond and just stayed, making you sighed at his stubbornness.

"but i want to lay on top of you after," he said, pressing his lips softly against your neck.

"fine," you relented, knowing you won't have a chance to win this. he slightly detached himself from you, and you quickly stood up, getting him his pajamas.

after getting him his pj's, you went your way to him, giving it to him, but he just stared at it, and slowly, a smirk formed in his lips.

"what are you staring at? go get changed so you can rest," you told him, wiggling the pajama in front of him.

"you change my clothes," he said, grinning, and you immediately shook your head. i knew it... you thought.

"you change it yourself," you told him, raising your left brows. you knew exactly what he was thinking. "bebi, pleaseee?" he asked, blinking his damn eyes. you knew you couldn't resist.

with a sigh, you finally gave in, rolling your eyes with his mischievousness. "fine, but don't do anything stupid," you warned, pointing your fingers at him, and he couldn't help but to bit his lips a little, savoring his small victory.

he grinned wider, clearly pleased with himself. he pulled you in close, one arm slipping around your waist, drawing you onto his lap. your heart raced as you felt his warmth, his hands settling firmly on your hips.

"yah!" you complained with his sudden action, trying to break free from his grip, but he immediately tightened around you.

"what? i don't see anything wrong in this arrangement," he murmured all too innocent as he gazed up at you, his face barely an inch away from you.

"seriously," you said, squeezing your eyes shut as if it would ease the tension you were feeling. when you reopened your eyes, you met his gaze directly looking at you, a small smirk painted in his face, hinting he was enjoying the moment.

"mhm, yeah. seriously," he said, his voice low as his fingers started brushing along your sides. you bit your lip, trying not to react, knowing well that he's making things hard on purpose.

"don't you dare make this difficult for me, i swear," you warned again, keeping your voice as steady as you could, but he just laughed softly.

"me? you know i'd never do that," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

"bebi! i swear, i won't keep this up if you keep teasing me like that," you told him and he quickly shook his head, letting out a soft giggle. "alright, i'll behave," he said before pressing a soft kiss against your lips.

you then started to take his shirt off, and you draped his pajama shirt over his broad shoulders. you fumbled a little with the buttons, his hands sneaking up to pull you even closer.

"hold still, or this will take even longer," you muttered, feeling your cheeks heat up.

"can't help it... just love having you close," he murmured, his voice warm. you shook your head before finally buttoning the last button of his pajama shirt.

"done," you said as you looked up to him, only to find his face just centimeters away from you.

"thanks, bebi." he said, eyes drifting to your lips. you were about to break free from him when he rolled you over the bed, bringing you both to your position earlier.

"you're not going anywhere," he said, snaking his arms around you as he nuzzled to your neck, peppering it with kisses, which made you softly chuckle.

"i love you," he murmured, finally closing his eyes after he got tired of peppering you with kisses. "i love you more than you know," you replied, wrapping your arms around him, and with that, you both dozed off to sleep.

©shinskichan

[shinmiyovvi]

wips for something i'm working on :>

[blkkizzat]

🗂️—𝙲𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝟶𝟶𝟻........... THE BIG BROTHER ......filed under the that's not my jjk man series

visitor log: crazed with quarantine boredom, you can't help but to tease your naive lil' roommate—choso kamo—but you'll know when to stop before it goes too far—or have you already let the real choso in?

classifications: huge mommy kinks, calls reader mommy, dommy mommy!reader, affectionate cruelty/cuteness aggression, manipulative reader, begging, teasing, virgin, creampies, masturbation, panty theft/sniffing/munching, cunalingus, pussy drunk choso, dumbification, slight mentions of menophilia, mentions of aged-up yuji and todo (they give choso “the talk” lmfao).

incidents: 6.9k

You felt bad about this.

You really did. 

Although apparently not enough to actually keep you from teasing your half-cursed roommate, pushing him to the point where moisture shines in his wide, puppy-like eyes.

Standing behind the door of your apartment, you pretend you don’t know the Choso before you is not actually a doppelgänger—so convincingly, in fact, that Choso has even begun to question his own sense of self. 

“B-But, b-but—I t-think, ah no! I promise it’s really me. I can’t be the curse! I-I mean—wait, I am a curse—but only half! D-Don’t you recognize me??”

Worry edges Choso’s voice while his bottom lip quivers.

Damn, Choso just looks too cute, all forlorn and pouty. You can barely stand it.

“Nah, sounds like you’re copping pleas to me, doppelgänger.”

You nearly give yourself away too, stifling a small mewl from watching his adorable lil’ face crumble, blinking back tears. 

While you didn’t intend to make him cry, your pussy is now crying too. Moisture dampening your panties from finally releasing some of the twisted cuteness aggression you’ve been bottling up for so long.

Your half-curse roommate was just too baby-girl for his own damned good—how could you possibly resist toying with him a little?

With that, you decide to take things up a notch.

“Um, are you sure you’re who you say you are? Because my boyfriend, Choso, is already home!”

“B-B-BOY-F-F-FRIEND?!”

Choso’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull, blushing furiously and practically choking on the word itself.

EEEEE! Too precious! 

You quickly cup your hand over your mouth hoping he couldn’t hear your giggles through the door.

Truthfully, you and Choso were just roommates.

Neither of you had come close to crossing any lines in the 10 months you’ve lived together. Your cohabitation has been entirely platonic thus far—to your dismay. 

Choso was unbelievably sexy and it makes him even sexier knowing how oblivious he was to it. However, Choso’s obliviousness is a problem in itself. Every subtle hint you drop seems to go right over his head. He was still so new to the ways of living as an everyday human and thus he interpreted everything in the most innocently unaware way possible.

You had no idea if Choso actually had any romantic inclinations towards you, but watching him get all flustered at the thought of dating you then cheesin’ like a goof only encourages the game you’re playing to continue.

You’d end this charade soon—you promise—but you just needed to mess with him a bit more. He’d been gone for almost two weeks, temporarily staying with Yuji back in the Jujutsu High dorms. You’ve been so lonely at home without him, which of course you use to justify your teasing by saying how he owed you this tiny bit of entertainment.

And it's entertaining as hell.

“You mean you don’t even know that Choso and I have been dating for 3 months!? You’re a horrible doppelgänger, you know that? I thought you’d be more convincing than this.”

On the other side of the door Choso was close to losing his entire shit. He had no idea how to process any of this information—unequivocally not having the slightest clue you’re purely fucking with him.

“D-Dating!? 3 m-months!?!”

Choso chews on his lip, trying to churn his exhausted thoughts together. 

When did this happen!? 

He’d been away hunting doppelgänger curses with Yuji practically non-stop for 2 weeks, he’s exhausted from the sheer number of doppels they exterminated and can’t think straight. He didn’t expect to come home to you accusing him of being one—let alone calling him your boyfriend!

Boyfriend. 

That title continued to pinball in Choso’s mind. 

He wanted to get closer to you for such a long time too, but didn’t know how exactly to go about it, all the social aspects of humanity being brand new to him—especially dating.

Not like he’d ever thought about living a normal life or dating living as a curse. Not until he started working for Jujutsu Tech and Yuji suggested he try living a bit more independently. You, one of the many assistant managers and Yuji’s friend, just happened to be in need of a roommate at the time. Being familiar with the Jujutsu world, you weren’t put off by him being a half-curse, quite the opposite. You’d been so helpful, always cheerful and kind, guiding him through any rough patches and helping him in a way similar to how Yuji does.

Yet it didn’t take long for Choso to realize he felt things about you he’d never experienced with anyone else, not even his brothers. 

The desire to constantly be around you and protect you was similar to how he felt about Yuji but with you it just didn’t stop there. Choso wanted to touch you, he wanted to hold you and he desperately wanted to be held by you too. 

Simultaneous to his budding affections for you—Choso realized the persistent pattern of his cock stiffening terribly when you’d casually roam around the apartment in your pjs. PJs that consisted of curve-clinging bottoms and braless crop-tops that would show the exact outline of your pussyprint along with every slight jiggle of tiddy from your movements.

Confused, Choso immediately went to Yuji with his problem—divulging everything. 

It took about 10 minutes for Yuji and Todo (who happened to be with Yuji at the time) to stop laughing before Yuji finally explained that it was a perfectly normal reaction to seeing a pretty girl dressed in so little. 

“Ha! Damn, seeing that juicy ass in tiny shorts everyday? You are truly blessed brother.”

Choso frowned, going silent. 

He secretly hated when Todo referred to him as brother—only him and Yuji were brothers. 

Moreover, the sinister urge to release piercing blood right through Todo’s tiny peanut head had startled Choso. Choso wasn’t one quick to anger and Todo’s comment wasn’t a threat or an insult by any means—but Choso still didn’t like it, even if he agreed with the sentiment. The last thing he wanted you to do, even to his own torment, was to cover up.

Although admittedly, Choso had seen lots of beautiful women wearing even less on the social media apps Yuji had him download. However, the faint notions of attraction were never as intense as when he was around you.

Not even close.

He didn’t know what to do about that. 

Especially after Yuji had warned Choso that it would be inappropriate to let you see any of the many erections Choso got while in your presence. Continuing to say that unless you felt the same way, it would make you uncomfortable and the only reason you did dress that way around him in the first place is because you are comfortable with him.

Todo on the other hand had a different approach and suggested to Choso he “accidentally” drop his towel in front of you after getting out of the shower.

Face red with embarrassment, Choso pointedly ignored that advice.

Making you uncomfortable was the last thing Choso wanted to risk. 

Choso didn’t want to be any more of a burden to you after you had so graciously helped him over these past months, so he never made any of his affections for you known and certainly wouldn’t be able to recognize if you felt the same way. 

Consequently, he would always quickly excuse himself to the bathroom to take care of the issue, anytime it happened to ‘pop up’. 

Literally. 

He was only glad right now that he couldn’t see you in them calling him your boyfriend or he would surely get hard, hell he was starting to regardless.

Choso is thoroughly perplexed, yet his next question is so innocent you nearly moan out from the sheer cluelessness of it all.

“A-A—Are we really dating—y-you and I? I-I mean, you actually wanted to d-date someone like me?”

Okay, now.

Now would be the perfect time to come clean. 

You’d had your fun right?

You could tell he was starting to take this seriously and it wouldn’t be harmless for much longer if you kept this up. 

You honestly don’t even know what’s gotten into you. This sudden wave of aggression feels out of character for you. You’ve never had any inclination to be so pushy or dominant—in fact, you’ve been referred to as a pillow princess in past relationships.

Yet with Choso it was different and had been since the beginning. The urge to encourage him felt so natural—manifesting as a strange bubbling in your chest whenever he had a doleful look of wide-eyed wonderment, head tilted slightly to the side from processing new information. 

God, it was a mixture of pride, joy and endearment that intensified in such a way you just wanted to make him cry—and it’s the exact same look he has right now you note gazing out of the peephole. 

Your legs rub together, but the shifting of your thighs wasn’t near enough stimulation for your repressed lust. You resisted the compulsions that would sprout to tease or taunt him for far too long and it was all spilling out now.

“Of course, we are Cho! Well me and the real Choso—you’re clearly just a doppelgänger or you wouldn’t be asking your girlfriend that.”

You are the absolute worst. 

“Oh, r-right…”

Choso stops, trailing off mid-sentence when he is finally hit with a revelation. 

But if you two were in fact dating did that mean—

Choso swallows hard, recalling all the accounts Yuji and Todo sent him full of videos (twitter porn) of what two people do together when they ‘date’. Yuji also told him though, if he’d go out to bars with him and Todo he’d likely have no issue finding a girl who’d also do it with him—even if they weren’t dating.

But Choso declined. 

He wasn't interested in doing those things with anyone else—he only wanted to do those things with you.

—wait but….could he really *gulps* with you?

Choso breaks into a anxious sweat.

The problem in his pants had been getting worse lately. To the point he had been excusing himself twice a night to settle down his cock and would try to sit on the furthest end of the sofa during movie nights with a pillow over his crotch. 

Although to his torturous agony, somehow you always seemed to find your way over to his side. By the end of the movie you’d be curled up to him with your head on the pillow in his lap over his erection that would have been throbbing all the while. 

But dating?

Were you actually dating all this time and he’d been too clueless to recognize it? 

Choso didn’t know how it started or what all it entailed but he definitely felt like the worst boyfriend in the world for not realizing it sooner! 

He needed to talk to you about that and apologize—but first he needed to convince you it was actually him.

“B-But roomie—please, it’s really me!”

You smirk, getting another mischievous idea.

Roomie, eh? Heehee.

You and Choso call each other ‘roomie’ in the same affectionate way close friends would call each other ‘bestie’—but this too you would use against him as you’re too far on a roll to stop now.

“Roomie?! Nah, my boyfriend Choso only calls me Mommy.”

“MA-MA-MOMMY!?!”

Choso grabs his chest over his heart, and begins muttering something you can’t quiet here, prompting you to consider if a part of his brain has shut down. 

Well, a piece of yours surely did.

All your thoughts are now controlled by the growing ache between your thighs.

You wish you could tackle him to the ground and ride him until he can't cum anymore and his pleas for you to stop melt into submissive whimpers as your pussy would continue to milk him.

While you might not have confirmation if Choso has feelings for you, you can plainly see he’s not repulsed by it at least.

Even so, intrusive pessimistic thoughts creep in, making you wonder if you’re simply too much for him. He’s already been so jumpy around you lately—more than usual—to the point where you worry you might be making him uncomfortable.

Maybe you haven’t been as good with keeping your cruel urges suppressed as you think?

Choso has been keeping a bit more distance too whenever you try to get too close. You know he’s still so naive to the ways of the world, and even if you are teasing him now, the last thing you want is to make him feel taken advantage of.

After all, you genuinely consider both him and Yuji friends—especially since letting Choso stay with you was originally a favor to Yuji.

However, a part of you secretly thinks Yuji may have had some vendetta against you—because why else would he have gifted his older brother those gray sweatpants and black compression tees for xmas? 

Choso didn’t wear underwear often either, especially when around the house—and a person would have to be blind not to see how fat his cock was just flaccid against his thighs.

So yeah, you did start wearing less and less around him, the boy shorts you wore a few weeks ago might as well have been panties from how far they rode up your crack to let the bottom of your ass cheeks poke out of them.

But Choso, even with that, still wouldn’t look your way for too long. 

You sigh.

Alright you had your fun, you’d—

“I-I’m real, I know how to p-prove it!”

Seconds away from stepping back to open the door and barrier, you're speechless as your eyes widen with recognition. The solid blue and tan print cotton material Choso tearfully pulls from his sleeve definitely belong to you.

YOUR RILAKKUMA PERIOD PANTIES!?

“A f-fake Choso wouldn’t have t-these!”

The words spill out of his lips as he looks down at his feet in shame.

Your eyes haven’t dilated from the size of saucers as Choso reveals undeniable proof that he’s the real deal. How else would he have found those heavily soiled teddy bear granny panties you’d hidden so well at the bottom of the laundry basket? You’d stashed them there weeks ago, right before he came home earlier than expected—just before you could wash them. 

You hadn’t even realized they were missing!

*Sniff* “M’s-so s-sorry M-Mommy, I-I know i-tt’s wrong—j-just miss you s’much when *sniff* m’gone for so l-long… n’these smell s’much like you n’have your b-blood on ‘em a-and—”

Is this real life!?

Choso’s mournful apologies are blubbering out of him a mile a minute but your thoughts go to hell at the debauched truth. Taking shallow breaths, you’re mindlessly caressing the pads of your fingers over your clothed cunt, eager to relieve any of the ache.

“—Uh—um, C-Choso, baby…?”

Even though he’s still rambling, your voice quiets him.

“Y-yeah, Mommy?”

Fuck! 

The hand stroking over your pussy urgently fumbles under the waistband of your shorts and panties to rub on your clit directly now.

He couldn’t just call you Mommy like this and expect you not to be soaked! (Even if it’s your fault he is).

Silently praying that Choso couldn’t hear the soft clicking of your fingers sliding inside your drooling folds to play with your slippery lil’ bud.

Yeah, you were horrible alright—yet you were also horny as hell. 

An unexpected turn of events for sure, but there’s no way you couldn’t see this through now. Especially now that he was full on calling you ‘Mommy’ and had just admitted to stealing your panties! 

So he’d liked you all this time after all?! 

Finding out more was becoming an essential need akin to breathing air.

“T-Tell Mommy something, yeah Cho baby? W-What exactly do you do with Mommy’s panties?”

Looking at his feet, the embarrassment on Choso’s face speaks for itself as he turns his back to the door in shame.

Likewise, you peel yourself from behind the door, leaning against the adjacent wall for additional support as your other hand hurriedly pushes up your top to tweak at your nipples. 

Getting off on the mere mental image of his chagrin and the pitiful whimpers you can hear through the door as Choso starts explaining through his tearful sobs his filthy thieving actions.

Shit—he’s such a horney little freak about it too!

Choso reluctantly admits that due to his heightened senses of being a half-curse he can always smell when you’re bleeding (Yuji also had to assure him there was nothing wrong with you).

Once he’d discovered the pair you left in the basket, Choso couldn’t help himself. 

And they weren’t the first pair he’d taken either. 

Choso had pilfered many sets of your undies to sniff while he hurriedly jerked his cock. Admitting to you sometimes just being around you for too long causes him to get hard. He’d rush to the bathroom and dig through your laundry, scouring for a pair of your panties or thongs like a mad man before resting them directly over his lips and nose. Finally at ease, the bathroom was his refuge and Choso ultimately would bathe his senses in your scent more than he would use the bathroom to actually bathe his body. 

Never lasting too long, Choso would cum all over his trembling hands from perversely sniffing and tonguing down the dirtied gusset of your panties.

If there were times Choso thought he was being too noisy, he’d stuff them in his mouth entirely. Sucking out the sweet tang of your cunt from the fibers and imagining it was your actual pussy his mouth was full of instead. 

Being the considerate roomie he is though, Choso would always clean them. Your panties would be returned to you, washed and folded and placed in your drawer before you could notice them missing.

Near hyperventilating now, Choso’s face is saturated in tears. He's so scared of your reaction. Surely, even if you two were dating you’d still hate him for the huge violation of privacy.

But if he’d known you were dating before, he’d have at least asked you for permission! 

“...M-M-Mommy—are you mad?”

Mad? 

Well you were madly finger popping your pussy to his depraved as fuck confession, if that counted as mad.

By the end of his perverse admission of guilt, you had slid all the way down to the floor. Trying to bite back cries as you are two fingers deep into your cunt. Pumping your soaked digits in and out of your pussy. No longer able to hold back, you are moaning aloud. 

“AHH, FUHH!”

The steamy twisted visions in your mind replay over and over, imagining him in those stupidly sexy gray sweats stroking himself while munching your panties like a fiend. 

Truthfully, the fantasy is doing you in badly and trumped everything else for you.

You haven't been this wet in ages and if he was getting off to your panties, it’s only fair you got off to him owning up to it—right?

“Um, M-Mommy…are y-you okay?”

Choso’s brow furrows when you don’t respond. 

Turning back around, he listens intently for any reply. Head cocking to the side when Choso can only hear muffled cries and the messy sounds of something wet squelching behind the door.

Suddenly, a cold panic sets in for Choso—you said he was already home! 

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Choso had been so focused on the whole boyfriend and dating reveal he’d completely overlooked that very important detail. He'd been with Yuji for the past week, so it couldn’t have been him, it had to be—a doppel.

You had let in a doppelganger?

Was he in there with you now?

Were you hurt? Is that why you weren’t answering him?

You didn’t sound hurt before but you certainly do now…well maybe not hurt exactly, but extremely distressed at the very least.

“MOMMY, ANSWER ME!!!”

Choso’s anxious cry did capture your attention but unfortunately only fueled the sense of urgency in your fingers thrusting messily into your sopping cunt.

Holy shit—and the wretchedly pathetic way he just called you ‘Mommy?’ 

You know you’re so fucked up for getting off on tormenting poor Choso like this, but his confession was so fucking hot and pretty fucked all on its own. 

There’s no way in hell you could stop now!

How long has it been even since you last orgasm? You couldn’t even remember, your head floating in the haze of a thick pleasurable fog. Regardless the actual length of time the answer was still that it had been too fucking long. 

“AH-AH—SHIIIIIIIT!” 

So close!

Your hand pulling at your nipples joins your other down your pants. The fingers not plunging in your tight slippery core are scrawling urgent cursive patterns over your sensitive nub, unconsciously spelling out Choso’s name on your clit over and over.

Your toes curl as you chew on your lip, the rope in your belly pulls taunt ready to snap when—

BAMMMMMM!!!

Choso barrels through the door and barrier—flowing red scale activated. 

The door itself barely hangs on its hinges as it ricochets back into place (yeah that was def coming out of your deposit for sure).

Scaring you half to death, orgasm thwarted, you can only stare at Choso as rage you’d never seen before is etched all over his face. Yet still his concern for you is evident in rapid fire questions he shoots at you faster than you can even process with your mind still swimming in your lingering arousal.

“ARE YOU OKAY?!”

“WHERE IS HE?!”“DID HE HURT YOU?!”

“HE HURT YOU—I’LL KILL ‘EM!”

Pacing around your apartment frantically, Choso abruptly comes to a stop once he senses that you are the only two in the apartment. 

There’s no doppelganger terrorizing you.

The both of you are panting—Choso from his battle-ready stance, blood congealing off the edges of the vivid crimson barbed arrows on his flustered cheeks—and you, panting from the shock of him bursting through the door, making your core to clench and pulse to the beat of your skyrocketing heart rate.

Stuck like a deer in headlights, you swallow thickly. You’re not sure how much time passes—it feels like hours, though it’s likely only been a few minutes. 

Regaining enough of your wits to remember the compromising position you are in, you slowly begin to pull your hands out of your shorts. The movement catches Choso’s eye, his vision narrowing in on your hands and fixes on the glimpse he receives of the large moist spot leaking through your cute yellow sleep shorts.

“W-W-Wait!”

Breath stuttering in a bit of a tizzy, Choso drops to his knees before you the second it clicks what you were doing. All thoughts of your obvious lies gone, the arousing perfume wafting off your cunt slaps him upside the head and severely cripples his ability to process the entire situation. 

It smells so-so much more sweet and potent than the stale remnants he’d get from your used panties!

You remain all the while still against the wall, his bigger form towers over you, effectively trapping you between the surface and his massive erection. The hard-on Choso sports proudly pokes through his baggy hakama pants. Yet he's so transfixed on the moisture glimmering on your soft thighs, he doesn’t realize he’s even showing it off to you—you do notice, however, quite a lot.

Fuck, you’d never seen him hard before he was so big!  

“C-can I see?” 

Choso’s voice meekly squeaks out, his tone becoming pitchy as he chews on his bottom lip and wipes his slick clammy palms off on his pants.

Oh shit, he’s so fucking cute you could eat him right the fuck up.

And unknowingly Choso was thinking the same thing about you—wishing you’d let him in sooner.

Why were you doing this without him? 

He was your boyfriend right? He could have been helping you with this.

Did you think he’d not want to do this with you? 

Did you not want to do it with him?

Yet Choso doesn’t get the opportunity to voice any of these concerns as his mind turns to goo when your pink tongue darts out to wet your bottom lip. Nodding affirmatively, you gently shimmy your pj shorts down.

Your heart is beating so hard in your ears right now.

You know a conversation needs to be had and that you have to tell him the truth—fess up and come clean. 

Although all of that seemed so small and irrelevant compared to the very large cock thumping against Choso’s thigh and the pertinent fluttering of your pussy—she’s not letting you forget how badly you still want to cum for a second.

If anything you were just happy more than anything he was just as big, if not a bigger, sexually repressed degenerate as you are.  The fact that you both wanted each other would be good enough for now which was more than evident in Choso’s eyes—crazed with excitement and following your every move.

He most definitely keenly whines like an injured puppy. As if the sight of you spreading your thick thighs open to reveal the pretty pair of mesh and silk panties, with a sizable expanding wet spot over your core, pains him and he trembles. 

“Mmm, is it okay if I…?”

Neither you nor Choso is quite sure what he’s asking permission for but you give it to him regardless.

Your body jumps slightly when you feel his shaky grasp touch your warm skin just above your knees. Trying to calm himself proves futile the higher Choso’s palms stumble upwards to rest on your inner thighs. 

The audible puff Choso breathes out seeing with his own eyes the pretty shape and color of your glistening cunt through the wet mesh material.

Lowering his face closer to your core, Choso unabashedly takes the biggest whiff of your lewd aroma. His eyes roll back as he moans sensually. His warm breath and flicks of his drool gust over your quivering cunt which has your hips eagerly tipping forward to offer yourself up to him on a platter.

“Cho?”

The neediness is evident in your wanton tone and Choso’s eyes perk up toward you, expectantly, wide-eyed obedience like a hungry dog before it's rewarded with a tasty treat.

“What you said you did to my panties, Cho?—m’do it like that baby.”

ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩

“OHHH GAWD—F-FUCK!”

Choso’s iron hold spreads your doughy thighs apart as his face imposes itself deeper into the fabric covering your creamy cunt, not allowing you to wiggle yourself loose. 

When you told Choso to eat you like he did your panties you didn’t expect he’d actually keep them on you!

You’re discovering just how much Choso liked chewing on your panties—on or off you apparently. You’d tease him for the fetish if he’d ever pause to come up for air and give your poor lil’ puss a break from the carnal torrent of his feverish tongue. 

Head bobbing back and forth in a rhythm all of its own, Choso is quite literally crying into your pussy, deliriously whimpering unintelligible praises of her—with no sign of stopping. At his complete mercy, your hands hold on to pigtails like reigns, except no amount of pulling gets Choso to put heel to his rampage—in fact it does the opposite.

Choso is obsessed with the whole of you—every shiver, twitch or cry he elicits from you encourages him to draw out even more.

How could he not be? 

Especially with the delectable dish before him consisting of your translucent soggy panties gluing itself to the exact shape of your smooth inner folds and puffy clit. Completely saturated, a build up of slick, spit and tears suds atop the mesh creating sloppy spit bubbles in the wake of his mouth’s crazed motions. Bubbles which Choso eagerly slurps up again like a man who's been parched for days. 

And truly he is—not wanting to remove his head between your heavenly thighs for even a moment lest he wake and discover this all to be a hallucination. He didn’t want to ever go back to only imagining this kind of bliss.

“Soooo g-good..GOD—S-Such…AH—g-good boy, Cho.”

Lost in the sauce of your sweet pussy, Choso gleefully continues—languid in his exploration but purposeful, you feel every flex of his dexterous muscle quivering in your pussy as he licks you from your swollen outer lips and into the folds of your inner labia. 

Choso commits every groove of your cunt to his memory. 

Only once you tense enough, arching your back and digging your nails into his cranium to push him towards her will Choso finally pay attention to your clit— his thick spongy tongue flattens, ensuring its soft bump texture scrapes across each and every nerve in your sensitive fleshy bundle. He’s feverishly making out with your bud to the point of making your actual mouth jealous.

Fuck, he was eating you like a pro and you haven’t even properly kissed him yet!

His skills are a total 180 degree shift from how novice he was just an hour earlier.

Obviously inexperienced, Choso’s first inclination was to latch his entire mouth over your clothed cunt, sucking and licking aimlessly, which honestly tickled at first more than anything.

Yet being the fast-learning good boy he is, Choso takes your instructions as well as your nonverbal cues to heart. Checking in with you often, his eyes darted up to you with innocent coos of ‘How does it feel, Mommy?’ reverberating into your core. 

Not only does Choso take direction well, he proactively improvises. 

You weren’t expecting him to start humming on your clit when you instructed him to suck it directly. Playing you like a harmonica, shaking his head and alternating between sucking and blowing. The insane waves vibrated into your cunt to stimulate every single pleasure point. 

You’d never gotten eaten out so desperately before, let alone with your underwear still on!

More caring with your pleasure than his own, Choso has already pulled two mind-bending orgasms out of you. Dining on your savory cunt like it's his last meal, Choso’s greediness while drowning in your pussy is steadily taking you to number three. 

To say Choso is pussy-drunk at the moment would be a massive understatement. 

Choso is worshiping you like he had found God in your gooey lips and as far as he was concerned he has. Relentlessly grinding against the floor, shuddering and moaning into your cunt he’d gladly pray into your pussy as much as you’d let him, swirling his tongue as far as he could into your cute hole winking against your soggy panties. 

From the noises he makes you think he’s already found enough pleasure of his own to soil his pants.

And you’re absolutely right.

Frantically rubbing his dick against your shared apartment’s plush carpet, the absolute elation he feels to finally taste you after all this time combined with the scratchy friction of the fibers prove too much for his needy virgin cock to bear. 

Nevertheless, that doesn’t slow him, uncaring about the uncomfortable stickiness caking between his legs when his head is still very occupied between yours.

“Shiiiit, ah—fuh—W-waiiiit, baby…Chos—OH!”

Stomach clenching, eye rolling ecstasy takes over when his canine accidentally swiped over your overstimmed clit. The tension finally snaps and your legs jerk with the prickly pleasure of tingles running through them. Your lashes splash away the stream of tears filling your eyes from the third orgasm Choso has studiously pulled from you.  

Choso shows no sign of stopping and while you’d happily let your little eater go to town on you all night, your pussy is screaming at you—you needed him to fill her up.

It takes all your strength to pry Choso’s face out of your cunt. His flushed cheeks are drenched and he appears dazed, a dreamy gaze in his eyes before distress instantly etches his features upon realizing he wasn’t suffocating himself in your pussy any longer.

“Nooo, Mommy pleaaaasuh! She’s s’p-pretty n s’creamy—s’wet… l-let me go back, kay?”

His deranged affectionate whines spur you to tug on his hair harder, keeping his attention focused on your face as you pose to him the question that has him ready to cum in his pants all over again.

“I know Cho, your mouth is s’good at getting Mommy’s pussy messy. But baby, don’t you wanna wet your dick in your girlfriend’s pussy next?”

Dumbstruck, Choso never considered that an option. 

“Or are you just satisfied with stewing in your own cum filled pants?”

Truly, he would have been happy just setting up camp all night with his face lodged in your cunt. Yet you flipped the lights on in his mind again, reminding him of how much he’d wanted to feel you on his cock knowing it would be so much better than his calloused hands stroking him.

With a series of dopey headshakes, Choso is scrambling to remove his robes. 

“Sorry, m’sorry!”

You couldn’t laugh at Choso for nearly falling over himself enthusiastically trying to shed his clothes, not when you’re just as wound up. Buzzing with lust, you're openly drooling seeing the massive stain on Choso’s white hakama as he sits back on his knees. Pushing down his pants, Choso’s cock rebounds bobbing back towards his belly and leaving glimmering traces of the prior mess he’s made. 

You knew he was big but holy shit—he’s too fuckin baby girl to be carrying around such a deadly daddy weapon in his pants. It makes rock hard length all the more intimidating the way his mushroomy tip reddens as the pearly streams of his essence flow over the heavy vein swaying his cock forward.

“If you really mean it, then apologize to Mommy with your cock for wasting all her cum in those pants of yours.”

You’re way past the line of going too far already. 

You know you are playing with fire teasing him like this, especially since the thick lines of his ability still activated even if the barbs were no longer on his face. He’d literally split you in two if he went too fast—and yet?

A part of you wanted him to break you.

Hovering over your form, like you were a delicate object while helping you pull off your last remaining articles of clothing. There's a mixture of both of your fluids webbing to your cunt as your panties—now destroyed with little holes scattering them from Choso him furiously gnawing on them like a teething puppy— are gingerly peeled off your skin.

Seeing you completely naked, Choso is stunned stupid. 

Utterly stuck, he’s biting his inner cheek hard so he doesn’t cum just from the sight of you from your warmed cheeks, pert nipples, quivering belly and pussy glossy from leaking a steady stream of drool.

“Y-You’re perfect!”

Choso blurts out and you think you can feel the thumping in your pussy all the way up in your eardrums as you overload on his adorableness. 

Spreading your legs wider you allow him to settle between your thighs, your hips slightly strain from accommodating his large body that completely dwarfs yours as Choso presses ope your thighs again. 

His anticipation visible, Choso’s upper body is trembling, biting down on his lip as he cautiously runs his angry cockhead down your soaked slit.  

“Shiiiiiiit.”

Drawing back Choso hesitates, the feel of even your pearly gland against his tip is almost too much.

“Umm, Y-You know what you’re doing Cho? I can get on—”

“NO! Um, y-yeah… I mean, I’d want that it’s, uh—I-I wanna make you feel good first if that’s okay, Mommy?”

Choso mumbles shyly, a determined look behind his bashefulness—so fuckin cute!

Oh yeah, you couldn’t wait for your turn to eat him the fuck up.

You’d settle for his lips though, tasting yourself on them you share your first real kiss while Choso is sinking inside your gummy core. The kiss doesn’t last long, only faintly grazing your tongue against his own before Choso is choking into your mouth. Unable to savor the kiss as he can’t even control the movement of his lips, just sneaking the very tip inside you near paralyzes him with pleasure.

Too warm, too wet and the fit much too tight—so it’s no surprise that when his hips dare to venture only a tiniest bit forward he's immediately cumming inside you with broken wails and sobs. 

“M’sorry! M’sorry! M’sorry!”

Your mind is elsewhere, still delayed from your pussy getting stretched so wide from the mere girth of the cockhead just minutes after getting eaten like a last meal on death row—so you didn’t even consider how fast he would cum once he was inside you.

Telling him to pull out now would be pointless, especially considering how incredibly turned on you are by him shaking like a leaf from just putting his tip inside. Trying to thursy into you further has him collapsing down and crying nonsense into your neck. 

A small smile is on your lips as you soothe him, amused with your pussy being Choso’s personal kryptonite. Hooking your arms under his, you stroke his shoulder blades whispering assurances.

“Just breathe Cho”

You’re also relishing the break it also gave you time to adjust, you were so full just from taking half of him. Your walls are slowly learning to accommodate his girth and clench around him, sucking him further in causing him to keen pitchy little moans as the pool of slobber increases down your nape.

Shit. You’re craving more.

You didn’t want to rush him as you can tell how just the smallest crumb of pussy has him in shambles, but your insides might burn up entirely if he didn’t start moving soon. 

Your gentle touch slick with the sweat beading on his broad chiseled back, roams down until you reach his hips. Nails digging into the sides of his glutes for grip, you pull his pelvis forward and down. Teaching him just how to fuck you, you lead his twitching length deeper into your pussy before guiding his hips back up then down again. 

Frankly, you think Choso might bust again from the deep groan he sighs when his long cock knocks against your cervix, fully sheathed in you. But your good boy proves to be a quick study yet again and it only takes a few cycles of training his hips before Choso adapts to a steady consistent rhythm on his own.

His eyes are screwed shut though, knowing from the videos he watched you wouldn’t be satisfied unless he could last longer for you. Certainly Choso would nut if he caught a glimpse of how nicely the peaks of your stiff nipples were bouncing or the lewd splash of creamy fluids from your cunt edging up your churning tummy like a tide. 

It was almost too much on its own that Choso could still taste the sweet tang of your cunt on his lips knowing his cock was buried so deeply in her. Choso’s oral fixation getting the best of him, the desire to suck on all parts of you rose as he scoops you up slightly, arms wrapped around your back propping your chest up towards his mouth so he can suckle on your tiddies.

When Choso inevitably makes the mistake of opening his eyes. Your sweet face, twisted in rapture, eyes fluttering back in a way that nearly matches the fluttering of your cunt around him undoes him again.

Choso just loves you too much.

“G-Gonna cum, again—m’sorry Mommy! G-GUHHHHHHH. P-Pussy too good. Never wanna leave—never gonna leave your perfect pussy, Mommy. I’ll stay inside you like this.”

Deranged in ecstasy, head burrowed in the safe haven in your tits, Choso’s declarations feel more like threats. Mouth is still full of tiddy, Choso coos out more promises of loving you and your pretty pussy so good like you deserve and making up for the months he could have been doing this.

“C-Cho, baby, pull out if you’re g-gonna—”

Too late.

To his credit Choso, wasn't even doing it on purpose. His body is in auto mode. Your cunt crippling his brain too badly for him to have any real control and Choso fucking you more like a curse than a human in the moment.

You’d asked for it with your teasing though, you thought as another load of viscous warmth blooms into your guts. Initially you figured no harm since it was his first time, but you’re now  losing count of the many times Choso has battered your puffed pussy into another orgasm and in turn busted in you. 

Obscene sounds squelch out of your pretty pussy, his cum making it even easier for him to frantically buck his hips to slam against your g-spot with every thrust—growing wholly addicted to the feeling of sliding in and out of you. 

His desperation for you has Choso manhandling you into different positions, all which you have Yuji and Todo to thank for sending him all their fap material. You didn’t know that though and you didn’t have time to wonder either when Choso has zero regard for the flexibility some of these positions require, yet obediently it’s your body bends to his will. 

Your head is drowning in euphoria from getting fucked so savagely, it takes a while to realize that you’ve changed positions again. Now on your stomach, ass up and shoulder being held down as Choso is using your creamy pulverized cunt like his own personal fleshlight. 

Your limbs feel weak and you’re cumming so hard now it’s almost painful, Choso reaches around to strum your abused clit while biting into your neck.

“One more time, Mommy! Please let me fuck you, one more time!”

Unfortunately for your poor pummeled pussy, that one more time was 3 rounds ago and your new boyfriend hasn’t gone soft yet—likely thanks to his blood manipulating abilities.

But since you manipulated Choso and yourself into a 3 month relationship it’s only fair he manipulates his cock into staying hard—right?

Choso has to make up for an entire 3 months of not fucking you tonight.

Good luck with that!

......RESULT: INCONCLUSIVE. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎, 𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚡𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜—𝚜𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚝’𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 '𝙼𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚢'.

that's not my jjk man series (visit series page for full animation)

i did not mean for it to be this long but got carried away as this the first time ive written virgin!choso.

comment and reblog! next up nanami, reworking it bit thats why I delayed it.

©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.

[ph4ngz]

i need isagi, bachira, nagi, reo, chigiri, kunigami, shidou, sae, rin & barou x fem! reader (all separate) doing it raw for the first time?? pls pls pls pls pls

DOING IT RAW || BLUE LOCK

MMMMMM *feral noises.*

ISAGI YOICHI

"You're... y-you're on the pill, right baby?" he asks as soon as his tip meets the soft, slick outline of your entrance. His eyes are clenched shut, nose scrunched up as he does everything in his power to focus on the unfamiliar sensation of real pleasure, no bullshit condom, just pure skin on skin with his favourite girl. "Oh, shit..." he moans out loud, his features twitching and contorting in ecstasy. He's loving every second, finally able to experience every detail with his jolting, excited cock. "G-God, I-... oh~ t-tight!" he cries out quietly, attempting to control his volume as his head rolls back. Every so often, he repeatedly slides his sensitive cockhead back and forth over your puffy clit, relishing in the way it feels to mix each other's arousal together before recklessly jostling it inside once more. "Why... how... are you so fucking good?~ ah-"

BACHIRA MEGURU

"Wait, I thought it felt good already... now it's gonna be even more delicious?~ oh, wow. You're tooooooo good to me, my girl~" he'd cooed against your soft lips when you'd suddenly told him to fuck you without protection. Bachira couldn't care less if he's got a condom on or not. As long as you're having fun, he'll cum his brains out anyway. Even untouched. "Soooo, ya like it? What gets you off, huh? Is it that you can feel it pulse inside you?~" he asks playfully and oh so shamelessly, poking his tongue out as he rests your legs on his shoulders. "Bachira Meguru~ d-don't be so... so lewd..." you whimper towards the end of your sentence, the way his pelvis grinds against your gooey pussy to drive his cock in deeper making your eyes roll back. "Huh~ what, you embarrassed? Hehehe, oh— mmmh, don't be silly, you're the one who's getting my dick wetter by the second."

NAGI SEISHIRO

Oh, he's all for it. All you had to do was mention the mere concept of it and he was hauling you into his lap with that pretty, blank stare of his. "Wanna do that now." he's murmuring into your ear with all the focus he can conjure up going toward the strength of his big hands, already trying to remove your pants without ripping them. "Ohooooo," Nagi whines deeply into your shoulder once his fingers get wet whilst slipping your panties aside, "you're so wet, I wanna stick it in. Can I please...?" he asks lazily, dragging his lips across your skin so sensually, slowly. "Knock yourself out." you grant him permission with a shared dreamy stare, not entirely knowing what you're getting into until he's slipping himself in immediately, balls deep within seconds. "Hhhhh... hhh- I love youuuu~" he's moaning and sighing so slowly and it's almost making your ears twitch to hear more. "Condoms are such a hassle, o-oh... never wanna go back~"

MIKAGE REO

"We can do it raw, right? Can we do it raw?" a few strands of purple fall in front of his eager eyes as he holds an unopened condom between his fingers, already so worked up by the mere thought of pushing his needy cock in without some stupid condom preventing him from feeling the thrill he needs. Reo is ready to toss it behind his shoulder at the drop of a hat, and you don't think he even saw you nodding until a split second after he threw it away... "Fuck yeah, I'm so ready for this right now... you ready sweetheart?" he doesn't even wait for you to answer before he's spreading your cute cunt with his thumbs, intently watching his pink tip squeeze past your slicked up folds. "Oh my fucking godddd-... been waitin' for so long~" you hear him groan as he squeezes your thighs tightly. Every inch of his hard dick feels like it's on fire due to the way your hot arousal is coating his sensitive skin more and more, no pesky condom in the way.

CHIGIRI HYOMA

The little smirk on his gorgeous face when you tell him... hehe. "You're being for real, yeah? Okay, just... just c'mere, I'm not waiting around." he drags your body into his, grinding his clothed cock into your ass from behind, huffing impatiently like a spoiled brat. "You're letting me bang you raw..." a pearly white smile graces his face, he looks proud that you're finally letting him do this. Eyebrows bowed in pleasure, he watches his perfect tip squish between your folds and gather some of his sparkling precum on the way inside. His eyes are rolling back every five seconds, so sensitive and vulnerable under the influence of your wet cunt, especially now that there's no protection. "W-Woah, I'm— hhhhholy shit. Don't move, I might cum on the spot~" he warns you with a pornographic whine, pushing his hair back so he can get a clear view of your pussy trying to keep him all inside. "...I can go as fast as I want to as well, mm?~"

KUNIGAMI RENSUKE

Ugh, he's doing his best to act like he doesn't give a shit. "Yeah... fuckin' sure, we can do that. Won't make much difference." he said. "Again... I need more- more~" he growls and sighs now. So stubborn, but you love it. How his hair somehow becomes more messy due to how fucking turned on he is, how he keeps trying to stop his frown from faltering every time you clench on his ruthless huge cock. He's already fucked his cum further into you twice, clearly not able to get enough of the amplified pleasure that comes with being allowed to release all up inside your velvety pussy for the first time. "Did you get even t-tighter or something...? Fuck, fuck— ugh~" he pounds into you hard enough to bruise, his huge breeder balls smacking against your ass whilst a growing streak of white dribbles from your abused hole each time he bottoms out. "Jesus, fuck! H-Hah~" he's almost got tears in his eyes, the sheer euphoria seeming to be strong enough to puncture his pride.

SHIDOU RYUSEI

This guy wants it. He fucking loves it. He pressured you into this, after all, knowing well that you were rather paranoid about unprotected sex no matter how bad you wanted to experience him raw. "Oh, baby... please? C'mon, you gotsta' loosen up a little to have more fun with me~" he roughly placed a hand over your forehead to thoroughly stroke your hair back, making sure you felt like you had nowhere else to look besides his own, unnerving eyes. "Or you could let this big, raw fucking cock do that for you..." he'd offered lowly, a certain seriousness in his tone that you just couldn't shake as his nose almost touched yours. And so here you are, his unforgiving length buried deep within your guts. You swear you can feel his heartbeat inside of you, his erratic breathing and whining almost confirming your suspicions. "Gonna let me do this, yeah?~ ah, this feeling is fucking perfect I swearrr..." Shidou groans with a twisted, dirty grin when he makes you nod eagerly for him, "oh my god... can feel all of you, hah, ah- shit."

ITOSHI SAE

"I won't refuse." is what he responds with when you snatch the condom wrapper from his hand and toss it to the bedroom floor. "Mm." Sae grunts softly when his bare and pulsating cockhead squeezes its way past your glistening, pretty entrance as both of his hands massage the flesh of your ass. If it were any other girl he was slowly dipping his cock into right now, they wouldn't think he could notice any difference at all. But you're not any other girl, you can sense him preventing his blunt nails from damaging your asscheeks, hear the sound of his throat closing up to prevent an outright whine, feel his fat dick trying to jump within the sultry contracting of your walls. "G-Go, all of it~" you demand sweetly, reaching your hands back to hold his own and tug him in. His breath shakes once his tensing balls touch your clit, the sensation of his solid length pressing the very limits of your insides without a layer of latex separating you causing a hardly controlled "yeahhh..." to escape from behind his gritted teeth.

ITOSHI RIN

God, he's trying way too hard. Acting as if he's not falling to bits right before your misty eyes, as if he's not on the verge of fucking drooling like a rabid animal at the way your hot slick connects the very end of his perfect cock to your throbbing entrance with a clear string. "...'re you ready?" he asks in that breathy, addictive voice of his whilst impatiently sliding his tip up and down between your soft, slippery lower lips. Please, please, please is what he's chanting inside. "Green light." you respond with a strained and sexy moan muffled by your forearm, feeling him trace a circle around your clit, a cooling drop of pre-cum latching onto it once he pulls back to position himself. It's when the first few inches of him are surrounded by your heat that he struggles to let go of his breath without holding it again. "Whew- Alright, fuck..." Rin pants slowly, his tough guy act starting to crack uncontrollably under the power of your perfect cunt.

BAROU SHOUEI

He said nothing when you agreed. Just pulled you in for the roughest kiss you've ever had. And suddenly, you're being bounced like a rag doll on his horse cock, every vein as prominent as ever along your fleshy, sticky walls. "Never show me a condom again." he grunts into your neck, his big hands gripping your perfect body with a steel grip like he could lose you if he let go. "I wanna fill you up... wanna fill you up with my cum- agh~ hhhnnggh..." his voice is deep and grumbly, vibrating against your skin as he bites a little to show some restraint. The manner in which your walls are spasming around his raw, long cock is making it increasingly difficult to keep himself in check. "Damn it, please... don't make me lose control of myself..." he pleads lowly, his huge arms holding you in position and bouncing you harder on his fat dick. "H-oh my-... good, good girl."

|| || || ||

[tetzoro]

FATED REUNIONS — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. portgas d. ace !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : after a month apart, ace comes home to you and drowns you in his endless love.

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. f!reader, unprotected sex, oral (f!receiving), fingering, use of pet names (princess, baby) multiple orgasms, multiple creampies, mentions of overstimulation, cockwarming, pussy drunk!ace, ace has a foul mouth — WC : 3.9k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : this was supposed to be his bday fic but i’m a bit late .. sorry ;( but i packed sm love into this and tied it off with a lil bow so pls enjoy teehee dividers by @/cafekitsune ᰔ

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ*.ﾟ

ace had the kind of smile that could heal the world, bit by bit. anytime he presented it, it casted a warm glow to anyone who was lucky enough to witness it.

a part of you wanted to be selfish and hide it, keep it for yourself in hopes it would mend all the broken cracks inside of you. but a beauty like that deserves to see the light of day — so you’ve always stepped back and let the universe feel what you do when you look at him.

but what you never seem to realize is that there’s a special smile reserved for you. one that he shields from everyone else, one that’s devoted to only you. it was softer around the edges, blanketing you like a growing candlelight that illuminates the darkest rooms. a safe haven that you can put your guard down and cozy up in, melting into it like the wax that drips alongside it.

“there’s my girl.” ace says, that smile resting on his features. all you can do is return it, love and hope shining from your eyes as you gaze back at him from across the deck.

he’d been gone for what seemed so long, another mission that whisked him away from you and leaving your nights cold. the usual warmth he brought was snuffed out and all you could do was hope he’d be okay.

but he was, and he’s here.

in the blink of an eye, you’re running at full speed across the deck knowing that he’ll be there to catch you.

the wind brushes against you, almost encouraging your every step as you make your way closer to him, laughter escaping your lungs when you see his arms open up for you.

with a leap forward, strong arms encase you as he lifts you up in a hug, laughing with you, not a care in the world now that he’s with you.

“missed you.” the words settle deep into his bones as you utter them in the crook of his neck.

“missed you too.” he whispers back, keeping his voice low so only you hear it.

two hearts beating as one, a fated reunion that the universe had been waiting for. finding sanctuary in each other's arms once again, neither ready to let go just yet.

and you probably wouldn’t for the next few days, clinging onto each other — much to the crews annoyance. but they secretly find it endearing, their little ace having a love all of his own. something he doesn’t have to share, something that was meant for him and him alone.

ace sets you down for a moment, limbs still intertwined as he scans your face, looking for what — you don’t know. but you do the same, making sure that he came back to you in one piece.

“hi.” you beam up at him once you’ve decided that he’s okay, he’s not hurt and he’s back safe and sound.

“hi.” he cheeses back at you, familiar boyish grin taking up his face. the two of you held eye contact for a long while, soaking each other up before you were rudely interrupted by one of the guys.

“oh go on and kiss her already!” thatch called out, failing to hold back his laugh. ace’s attention snapped over to him for a second, almost shocked that you two weren’t the only ones in the world right now.

“mind your business, maybe!” he fired back, expression softening as soon as his attention is back on you. his voice was quieter, back to speaking to only you. “was getting to that part.”

“go on then.” you smirk at him, egging him on along with the rest of the crew. the ravenette doesn’t waste another moment, expertly whisking his hat off his head and putting it on yours, using the momentum to pull you in a searing kiss.

the crew cheered and you felt heat rise into your cheeks, but you didn’t care. it had been too long, his slightly chapped lips moved against yours as his arms move to tighten around your waist.

after another moment, he pulls away, giving a quick glance to the crew again, suddenly all too aware of where you both are.

“alright shows over.” he takes your hand, giving it a little kiss as some of the crew starts to disperse, knowing all too well they’ll have to settle for catching up with him later — much later.

“should we go to your room?” you ask innocently enough, wanting to hide from prying eyes during this tender moment. but he knew better. the way you clung to him, nails already digging in his biceps, body pressed up against him — he knew you were just being coy.

“can’t get enough of me, huh?” he laughs, the sound reverberating throughout your body so fiercely you had no choice but to join in, savoring the sound you missed so much. “but yeah, let’s go.”

ace throws his arm around your shoulders, leading you to the place you’ve called home for the last year or so. clunky boots eagerly stomp against the wooden floor as he tosses half a wave towards the rest of the crew — happily retreating back to his chambers with you firmly in place, tucked under him for safekeeping.

“seems you’ve made this place your own.” he teases as he shuts the door behind him with his boot. before you can retaliate, he lifts you up and tosses you on the bed, instantly crawling over you before you have a chance to settle on the sheets. “guess that’s not the only thing i’ll have to reclaim.”

gone is the smile from earlier, the light that shone in his eyes were now dark and full of desire. a fervent want that exuded off of him in waves, trying to lull you into him.

“reclaim?” you breathe, his lips barely brushing against yours before he buries his face into your neck, loudly inhaling your scent and placing wet kisses in his wake, nibbling against your skin.

“missed you s’much.” his voice slurs with need, already drunk on you.

“you said that.” you tease, trying not to get swept up in the tidal wave you knew was coming.

“i meant it.” his face was back in front of yours, unabashed honesty filtering his features. your fingers reach up to touch his freckled cheeks, full of purpose, each moment striking true as the pads trace over the beautiful marks that take up his face. “can’t wait anymore, it’s been too long, i gotta have you, princess.”

“you have me —“ the rest of your sentence was eaten up by his hunger for you, lips kissing you with a bruising intensity that could only be forged by the passion of longing, searing into you as he branded you with his unyielding love.

and just as you guessed, the wave came for you and dragged you into him. eagerly moving your lips against his as you taste everything you’ve been starved of for the past month.

ace couldn’t even hold back anymore, taking your clothes off so quickly the ends were seared in his haste, wanting nothing more than to feel your bare skin against his.

the very thing he craved, the intimacy he could share with you, delving into your body behind closed doors is what kept him going. coming back home to you would always be his driving force in every mission he set out on.

the pressure of his tongue prods at your mouth, easily slipping in as you let out a gasp. he smiles into the kiss, missing the saccharine sounds you’d let out whenever he’d have you like this.

he savors every crevice, the sweet taste of your own tongue coating his. it’s easy for his mind to slip into your grasp, saturating in everything you have to offer him.

“no one makes my heart beat like you do.” he pulls back for a moment, pressing heated kisses along your neck, expertly finding each spot that makes you squirm under him — his thigh pressing up against your core, nudging your clit. “swear you’re the thing that holds me together.”

strong hands slide under you, cupping your ass before giving it a soft squeeze. you swear whenever he does that he puts a little heat behind it, overexcited at what’s to come.

his hands dig into your hips, guiding you along his thigh as he leaves little marks against your skin, dark splotches blossoming in the form of love.

“ace,” you gasp, breath full of want. it captures his attention like no other, dark eyes set on you and you swear you can see the nights sky bloom in them. whatever you were about to say dies in your throat at his intensity.

“i love the way you say my name, need to hear it again.” his warm palm slides down your body and between your legs. “don’t be shy, alright?”

deft fingers pry your thighs open as his thigh gets out of the way, and a thrill of anticipation rushes through your spine, already causing you to arch under his welcome touch.

“did you touch yourself while i was gone?” two fingers gently drag along your slick slit, collecting the honeyed essence on the tips of his fingers, webbing them together as you start to stitch yourself back into him.

“ace —“ your hips jolt towards him, longing for more as his fingers retreat into his own mouth, eyes burning into yours before fluttering shut as your taste melts over his tongue. he lets out a satisfied groan, a thick sound that erupts deep from his chest. “that’s embarrassing.”

“is it? ‘m just curious.” ace smiles a little, crouching down a bit more so his freckled face lays right before your awaiting cunt. it takes everything in you not to grab him by his hair and shove his eager mouth right where you both want it. “s’ok, i can go first.”

before you can question him, his finger slips into you, slowly stretching you out. he must’ve lost his train of thought, eyes focused on the way your greedy pussy swallows his digit, soaking up the small whimper you let out as he goes deeper.

“so tight for me, i bet your little fingers couldn’t stretch you out the way i can, huh?” he slides in another, his face so close to your cunt that his nose prods against your clit. “don’t worry princess, i’m here now.”

“feels so good,” you whine, arching up into his touch, trying to gain some friction against your clit. but he wasn’t giving in yet. “missed you s’much ace.”

“missed you too.” he adds a third finger in, tilting his head thoughtfully. “you know, there was one night about a week or so after i first left where i found myself at an inn.” he started, licking his plush lips in anticipation, adam’s apple bobbing at the sight of your cunt drooling all over his fingers.

“i had every intention of laying down and getting some rest but i kept thinking about you, about your pretty pussy.” with that, he finally leans in to give your clit a kiss, swirling his tongue around it while his fingers maintained a steady pace.

“couldn’t stop touching myself.” he rasps, heavy breaths fanning over your cunt — drunk on your taste, your scent, you. “couldn’t tell you how many times i came just wishing you were there to take it all f’me like you always do, like you’re supposed to.”

“wish i — aah!” your sentence gets cut off with a moan as ace finally gives in, a man starved as he eats you out. his wet tongue lapping against you, drinking up everything you have to offer him.

it’s hard to say who gets more enjoyment when ace devours you like this. his hips start to rut against the mattress, groaning and grunting into your cunt.

ace can feel his dick twitch with interest in time with each of your moans, pleasure pooling deep into his gut as he starts to get his fill of you.

after years of experience, ace could unravel you with a few well placed thrusts but he’d draw it out, savor every moment. but when it came to times like these where the only thing he wanted to do was to shove his cock into you, he’d do what needed to be done so you could take him.

“so good, ace.” you gasp out, your own fingers digging into his bicep as it ripples with determination, driving back into you so he can bring you tumbling over the edge and into his awaiting arms. “you’re always so good to me.”

“yeah?” he increases his pace, hips humping faster against the mattress as he tries to chase the friction, drunk off your praise. it always went right to his cock, desperate to drown in it.

“yeah.” you whine, back arching slightly as he thumbs at your clit, slowly but surely drawing out your orgasm. you were right on the edge, every nerve in your body set ablaze by the man between your legs, the man that would do anything for you, be anything for you. just as hopelessly devoted to you as to him.

ace was taking you higher and higher, the pleasure fogging over your brain, your thighs starting to shake as he doesn’t relent. he knew you were almost there.

“let go for me, baby.” ace can’t seem to focus on a single place, eyes darting to your blissed out face before zeroing in on your messy cunt, drooling and slobbering around his fingers as he brings you over the edge from his simple command.

your body tightens with pleasure, curling inside of you like a coil before it snaps, sending waves of ecstasy throughout you. a mantra of his name slips past your lips and brings you back down to him, watching as he tears off his pants.

your fingers trail down the patch of rough hair that leads you to where he’s pulsing with need. ace hisses loudly as you wrap your fingers around his cock, pulling him closer to you.

“fuck me, please.” you whine and any last bit of his resolve shatters into a thousand pieces. driven by his innate instinct to satisfy you, he roughly grabs you by your hips, lining himself up before pushing into you, stretching you open and laying you bare.

“you never have to beg for me, princess.” ace rasps, voice a little whiny as he takes in how good you feel. “i’d give you whatever you want.”

and he would. you feel like heaven to him, silken walls wrapped deliciously around his cock, pulsing with need, threatening to swallow him whole. he doesn’t think he’d mind it, he’d really let you do anything to him.

as much as he wanted to pound into you relentlessly, burning off all his frustration from the last month of not having you — he had to pause otherwise he’d cum before he even had the chance to start.

ace’s hands roam over your body, squeezing every inch as if he’s making sure you’re really there, that he’s home. his thumb grazes over your nipple and you keen for him, arching up for more attention.

and who was he to ever refuse you?

“oh you like that?” he murmurs, trying to sound seductive but the crack in his voice gave him away.

“fuck me, ace. move.” you reiterate, less whine in your voice as you roll your hips against him, biting back the word ‘please’.

he all but whimpers, the sound melting into your skin and seeping into your bones and you can’t help but chase that again and again.

plunging back into you, he sets a quicker pace. each drag of his cock carved his way back into your heart, desperately rutting himself into you to prove to you how devoted he was — that his time away didn’t lessen any of the feelings he carried in his heart.

it only made it grow stronger.

you could feel him twitch and pulse deep inside of you, as if his cock was begging for more.

“missed you, missed your cute little pussy.” ace ruts into you, lost in the way your warm walls fluttering around him, coaxing him to drive further into you. “did you miss me, baby?”

“yes, yes!” your voice turns into moans as he nudges the gooey spot deep inside of you, melting your brain.

“you feel — fuck — you feel so fucking good. you’re so wet, baby, can you hear?” he couldn’t control what was coming out of his mouth, his body was in overdrive as the only thing he could comprehend was how good he was feeling.

“ace-“ you whine again, embarrassed at his honest praise, his thoughts flowing from his mouth. you cover your face only for a second before he rips your hands from it, lacing them between his own and pushing it back down into the mattress.

“no.” his voice was deep, eyes sharp on you. “don’t ever hide from me, not after i’ve been gone. please. i need to see you.”

he leans back in, hips still moving quickly against yours as he captures your lips with his, groaning at the taste of you. a part of him wanted to taste every inch, pull his cock out and eat you out until you’re screaming for all to hear.

but there’s no way he could leave the warmth of your cunt, deliciously squeezing him as he drives back into you over and over again.

“‘m gonna cum.” he moans, fingers squeezing yours as he starts to hump you, slow and shallow — his release on the cusp but he couldn’t let go until you were with him.

“me too.” you gasp out, your free hand gripping his back, nails dragging into his skin in an attempt to ground yourself.

your ankle digs into the dimples in his back, driving him closer — deeper. the need to feel close to him overpowering all your senses, the same as him.

with one last deep thrust, ace pushes into you and sends you both over the edge, crying out each others name in unison as he spills into you, giving you everything he has to offer.

before you have a chance to come down from your high, he doesn’t let up. humping into you, making sure you get every drop of his love.

“c-can’t stop yet.” he rasps out, thrusts moving faster. your legs uselessly fall limp to your sides, exhaustion already settling into your bones as he continues to drive into your overused cunt. but it feels so good you couldn’t even fathom asking him to stop — not when the only thing that filled your mind was ace, ace, ace.

his tip nudging against that spongy spot deep inside you sends your mind reeling, involuntarily clenching around his cock and sending him further into his frenzy.

at this point, his pace was unstoppable, the sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room, ace’s eyes swirling with love and lust as he gazes down at you, absolutely drunk on the pleasure only you can bring him.

“s-sensitive!” you cry out, overstimulation coursing through your veins, setting your body ablaze in a swirl of pleasure and pain.

“i know baby, i know.” he kisses your head, his thrusts unrelenting as your body jolts under his touch. “but you feel too damn good like this. twitching all over my cock — haaah.”

“that feel good?” ace breathes in your ear, cock reaching so deep within you that stars erupt behind your eyes. all you can do is nod, not trusting your voice. but it’s not good enough for him. “c’mon talk to me, baby. missed your voice so much.”

“ace!” you yelp out as he pounds harder into you, hips snapping against yours relentlessly. you couldn’t get the words out even if you wanted to, the force of his thrusts knocking all of words right out of your pretty little head.

“mine, mine, mine.” each word was enunciated with a harsh thrust — but his voice gave himself away. the crack at the end, the desperation lacing his tone — he needed you to hear him, reassure him, tell him that you still feel the same way he does.

“m’yours!” you cry out, clinging onto him as his pace doesn’t let up. “i’m yours, ace, only yours.”

ace sinks his teeth into your shoulder, staving off his release just a little longer, until he felt your walls try to suffocate him.

it was too much — the build up, the reunion, ace’s all too familiar, sloppy kisses. your vision goes white as you violently cum around him, soaking his cock as you release.

a litany of curse words flow from his lips as you unravel around him, the force of your orgasm sending him spiraling.

the sight alone would’ve driven him over the edge but the way you whimpered his name had his hips stuttering into you, shoving himself deep inside of you before pumping you full of his cum, another load filling you up.

refusing to pull out, his cock jumps with interest yet again but he tries to push the need down for awhile. if ace had it his way he’d keep you here all night, giving you as much of his cum as he possibly can.

but the truth is, he really fucking missed you and wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms for a little bit, nuzzling his slightly sweaty face into yours as both of your breathing starts to settle down.

“baby?” ace asks so softly you almost don’t hear it.

“yes?” you whisper back, smoothing his hair down before running your fingers through it, gently untangling any knots. you knew you’d both need to shower, especially after this. but it could wait.

“nothing.” he nudges your cheek with his freckled nose. but you weren’t having that. you gently tilt his chin upward, pressing your lips against his forehead.

“tell me, i’m here.” you barely remove your lips from his skin, letting the words breathe over him. ace’s gaze meets yours and wordlessly shares so much with you — the pain of having been away from you, the relief of being back in your arms, the depths of his love for you all swirling in those dark puppy dog eyes of his.

so instead, he opts to kiss you softly, taking all the time in the world to pour his love into you, making up for all the kisses he missed out on while he was away. he pulls apart, that beautiful smile reserved just for you resting on his face.

“i just love you s’much.” ace settles on, basking in the love you pour over him. you know there’s more he wants to say but that’s for another time. a time where both of you don’t have to worry about the perils of tomorrow or whether or not he’d come home on time.

for now, this was all you needed. his warm body tucked next to you, a tangle of limbs as you move closer into him. watching as his half-lidded eyes start to flutter shut, eyelashes fanning along his freckled cheeks you endlessly adore.

“and i love you so much.” with a final kiss on his forehead, you can hear his breathing deepen as he starts to succumb to sleep — a habit he’s formed after you two have sex no matter where you might be.

but his cock was still inside of you and you knew it was only a matter of time until he was awake again and raring to go. so you might as well try to get some rest too, clinging to the man who fiercely holds your heart.

thank you so much for reading ᰔ

[eevees-hobbies]

My Boyfriend Works at a Butler Cafe - NSFW

Author’s Note: This is in response to the maid cafe requests I’ve gotten. While I don’t think I can add to the body of work that other content creators have already contributed to the fandom, I am dropping this at your feet. It may or may not be inspired by my trip to the Butler Cafe at Anime Expo, hehe.

Content Warning: Fem!Reader x Multiple Characters (Mostly separate). Contains Fluff and Smut (Smut indicated by “after hours” text). P in V. Use of pet names like pretty girl, Daddy, possessiveness in Sakura’s, sex in public, cunnilingus, sharing, mention of a handjob, reserve cowgirl. Tis smut!

Synopsis: Picture a scenario in which Umemiya is concerned about the welfare and sustainability of some of the shops in Makochi, primarily because many of the shops are owned and kept up by some of the more elderly inhabitants. Some stores are dilapidated and at risk of shuttering their doors, which Umemiya sees as a significant loss to the community. After brainstorming potential ways to earn some donations, he has a brilliant idea! It’s a concept that has almost every Bofurin alumni grinding their teeth and shaking their heads in protest. Welcome to the Butler Cafe!

Word Count: 3.2K

Cottage dividers by Saradika. Story and character banners by me.

“I’m so happy to see you, baby!”

If he weren’t volunteering his time to work in the cafe, he would be terminated immediately. As soon as he sees you walk through the door, he shouts your name from across the dining room and beelines straight to you, arms open and with a broad smile on his face. 

The customers he was just serving? Ignored.

He’ll make sure to sit you in his section and pull up a chair to chat with you, which is a significant annoyance to management as Umemiya is a big draw to the cafe. His admirers line up at least an hour before the restaurant opens to see the cutie with the toned biceps serving them strawberry crepes.

Regardless, I hope you’re comfortable with your lover staring into the depths of your eyes—and soul—as you recount your day. 

He’s so incomprehensibly smitten with you that the only thing that he’ll allow to interrupt your verbal reverie is him spoon-feeding you a piece of cake. 

“I’m so glad you came to visit me today! Wait, what do you mean you’re genuinely here to eat lunch?”

Grade: C+

After Hours

“Let me have some of you before my shift, sweetheart. I need you.”

“D-don’t worry about those…let them fall.” Paperwork, pens, and even a stapler aren’t safe from the laws of gravity as Umemiya picks you up and pushes you onto the desk in the back office. He only has so much time before opening the Butler Cafe doors, and he needs to fill your womb to ensure himself a good shift.

Could you imagine a sex-famished Umemiya? It’s a terrifying thought!

You kiss each other hungrily, tongues meeting outside your mouths before you can press your lips together. Your hands are already fussing with his uniform, particularly where his toned chest strains the buttons of his ironed coat.

“If I’m not inside you right now, baby girl-” His sentence is cut off as his mouth latches to the sensitive skin on your throat, suckling and nipping until the spot begins to sting. But if it hurts, you aren’t showing it as your eyes roll back into your skull. 

He’s pressing his body into yours as though he’s attempting to collapse into you. His hands desperately tug at the fabric that covers up his favorite parts of you–your breasts, your stomach, and most importantly, the sweet treat you have between slick-stained thighs.

“Ume, this has to be a quickie!” 

You can feel him grumble against your skin, lips trained into a pout as he grapples with your words, but he knows you’re right. He shifts the seat of your panties to the side and sinks into you, inch by agonizing thick inch. 

And you thought you were ready. You thought the way your cunt was drooling for him just by seeing him in his uniform would mean you were fully prepared to take his girth, but the sheer thickness still has you gasping and gripping his shoulders.

“Shhh, you can take it, pretty girl. You always take me so well. I got ya’”

As he’s pushing into you, his words slur, drunk off your pussy, head swimming with love, lust, and adoration for his sweet girl. There’s no time for preparation; his shift starts soon, and weren’t you just rushing him, anyway?

But for all the stretching you must endure from taking him, Umemiya is still nothing but gentle.

“God, you’re perfect.” His fingers stroke your cheek, and you melt into the familiarity of his soothing touch. “Keep your eyes open for me ok, love? You close them, and we start over.”

Once you collect yourself, walls finally fitting snugly around him like a glove, you bat your eyelashes innocently, brushing your lips against his thumb before sliding it into your mouth. You don’t break eye contact with him as you flirt your tongue against the underside of his thumb, pretending as though you’re sucking on something much bigger and thicker—that of which is already inside of you.

For a brief instant, you see something flash in Umemiya’s eyes, something that you feel sink into your spine and crawl its way up each individual vertebrae with sharpened claws, something that would threaten your health and ability to walk if you were home instead of at the butler cafe. But he begrudgingly sets his desire to defile you to the side and removes his thumb from your mouth, hand moving down and using that same digit to rub at your clit.

“I love it when you help Daddy out like this. Suuuuuuch a good girl.”

The way the desk bangs against the wall and drags across the linoleum floor as he drives his thick cock into your sopping-wet mess makes you consider that you two might be found out before your quickie can conclude. 

Grade: A+

“Stop staring at me like that, and hurry up and order!”

“Ugh!”

Death has never been more welcome as soon as Sakura dons the butler uniform. Even worse is when he peers into the dining room and sees you. 

Why would you do this to him? Why would you show up here? Don’t you have any pity for him, or is this all some sick, twisted fantasy for you? 

He’s spiraling!

Staff must physically grab him and force him onto the cafe floor. 

He’ll approach you, grumbling, and every bit of him the reddest he’s ever been—and is that steam pouring from his ears?

As he mumbles out the delicacy of the day, you have to lean in just to hear what he’s saying.

“S-stop pretending you can’t hear me!”

But best believe that when he sees another butler giving you too much attention for his liking, he’s stepping in and taking care of all his girl's orders.

“Hey, she’s mine.”

“Y-you mean the table, right?”

“She’s mine.”

Oof, he said what he said!

And if Umemiya is popular with the younger crowd, Sakura, to his disdain, is popular with the older ladies. They don’t think he’s particularly cute or lovely to look at; they just enjoy a visit from this loud-mouthed kid telling them to hurry up and order.

They think he’s a hoot and taking method-acting to the extreme.

Aren’t the tsundere types so cute? 

He’s honestly a really bad butler. His inability to be friendly to the customers—except you—and attempts to always switch his shift with someone else does not go unnoticed by management.

Grade: F -

After Hours 

“I kinda like fucking you at work.”

As you gazed down at your plate, an unfinished parfait staring back at you, a simple sentence was all you needed to gulp the rest of the dessert down and follow your butler outside.

“Gonna be good for me and finish that so I can finish you, yeah?”

Um, fuck yeah!

“S-sakura, don’t you have to clock back in?” You mumble into his ear; you know you sound like an absolute mess, your breathing rapid and uneven, with small moans erupting from your throat.

“Fuck this job.” He has your hands pinned above your head; your legs are wrapped around his waist as he fucks you against the alley wall behind the cafe. “I’m exactly where I should be.”

His thrusts forward are hard and urgent, but the retraction of his dick is slow, drawing out the feeling of your satin walls grazing every inch of him. Your slick is staining his bicolored pubic hair as he grinds into you. His fingers dig into your wrists, seemingly in rhythm with each snap of his hips. 

“G-god, Sakura! Maybe I should make you dress up like a butler more often?” 

“P-pervert, you’d like that, huh? You want me to dress up as your fantasy and fuck you in costume?”

He nestles his face into your neck. You sound so good for him, and how could he resist the urge to take you outside and fuck you right here and now with how pretty you look?

You’re intoxicating, you’re perfect, you’re about to make him fucking cum, fuck! He considers pulling out, letting you finish him off with your hand or that cute mouth of yours, but you grip your legs around him in a vice grip.

“H-haru, stay inside, please?”

Oh, god, how could he say no to that? To you? He smashes his lips against yours, moaning loudly in your mouth as his cock twitches, spurts then fountains of his love and devotion for you filling you up to the brim.

His shift at the butler cafe is the last thing on his mind as he wraps his arms around your waist, peppering kisses against your lips and cheeks.

Grade: A+++++++++++++++++++++++

“Hey, you came just to see me, sweet girl? Aw, I’m so lucky.”

Although he technically didn’t have to attend this fundraiser, given his relationship with Bofurin and Makochi, he thought it was a good idea to show up ready to work.

Togame quickly becomes a shift manager. He’s reliable, a natural leader, and every client likes talking to him and even though he doesn’t walk with a sense of urgency, they don’t mind!

When Togame sees you enter the cafe, he’ll shoot you a lazy grin—the kind that makes your heart skip a beat and forces you to long for him even when he’s right there in front of you.

During his lunch breaks, he’ll take you out on the private patio he reserved just for you two and have the butler on duty bring out all the cafe items he knows you’ll like. 

As you speak and enjoy your time together, he’ll grab your hand in his, rough fingers drawing smooth circles around your knuckles, deep-green eyes trained on yours, and occasionally flickering down to look at your lips.

Of course, you want to kiss him, but he’s at work!

Knowing precisely how you are, Togame makes the first move, leaning over and capturing your lips in a kiss that is soft, unabashedly intimate, and that of which touches the furthest and most difficult-to-reach edges of your very soul. He’s breathing life into you, and before you know it, he’s pulling away, smirking, daring you to be the aggressor, and daring you to follow him. And you are, and you do.

Grade: A

After Hours 

“Gonna make you cum before my shift, beautiful. How does that sound? Look at me when I ask you a question.”

Your trembling hand shoots out to grasp the ledge of a nearby shelf in the cafe’s backroom. Togame has your legs draped over his muscular and broad shoulders with your back against the wall in the back office.

Togame loves using your thighs as earmuffs. The harder you squeeze, the more he can tell how good of a job he’s doing. When you squeeze and tremble because he’s sucking on your labia, taking each one into his mouth, sucking, biting, he knows that he’s doing exactly what he needs to get you to absolute euphoria.

“Jo,” you hiss through parted, glossed lips, “They’ll be able to hear us!”

“No, they’ll be able to hear you.”

And he’s right. He snuck you into the back prior to his shift so that he could devour you as though you didn’t pack him a bento box. 

But he’s doing such a good job, licking at your clit until you feel a dull throbbing sensation, making out with your pretty pussy until thick cream coats his lips, and leaving a reflective sheen on his cheeks. 

Unfortunately, the diners aren’t too far away, and you don’t want them to hear every sound Togame is pulling out of you.

And as though he’s intentionally trying to make you louder, he flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue, no longer teasing the nub but making deliberate infinity shapes that make her twitch.

“I’ll stop when you cum in my mouth, baby.”

He wants you to cum? Might as well take him up on the offer. 

You grab loose fistfuls of his hair and start grinding on his face, allowing his nose to rub against your clit as he offers your pretty hole free use of his tongue.

“That’s my girl. You’re such a good listener.”

“Jo, don’t talk with your mouth full.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Grade: A+

“I’m at your beck and call. Whatever you need is yours.”

To no surprise to anyone, Suo is poised and proper enough to make the butler gig look easy. He knows how to carry the trays without spilling a single crumb of food, he knows where to put the silverware when placing them on the table, and he’s certainly never stressed out during a midday rush.

However, his faults lie with you.

When Suo sees you enter the cafe, he becomes apathetic to the other patrons. He still serves them, yes, but his thoughts are obviously elsewhere. His eyes hardly leave you, watching as you bring a fork up to your mouth and it pushes past your plump lips. 

Your tongue darting out to lick the whipped cream from the corner of your mouth has his eyes widening ever so slightly, and the tea kettle he’s pouring tea from shaking just a bit. 

And when he’s able to serve you? He’s never been happier. Sure, you may not have asked for that extra piece of pie, but you’re absolutely going to get it. Can’t possibly drink any more tea? Nonsense. He’s topping you off again.

Anything for you.

Always.

And forever.

Grade: B

After Hours

"Pretty girl needs to cum at least one more time for us. I need you to cum in my friend's mouth before I touch you."

Your pleasure is Suo’s pleasure, so be a good girl and spread your legs for his friends, mkay? Suo’s tongue slides into your mouth as his fingers brush against the strands of your hair that have managed to fall into your face. 

He can’t help but admire you, your beauty, and your fucked out expression as your mouth opens and closes, waves and waves of pleasure rocking you to your core. 

His beautiful girl.

The cafe's shades are drawn closed, and the interior of the restaurant is only illuminated by dim amber lamp lights placed sporadically throughout the medium-sized room. 

Suo cups your chin, his mouth only leaving yours as he tilts your face forward, “Tell Sakura how much you like when he sucks on your clit.”

Sakura grunts from between your thighs. He’s on all fours, face so flush against your cunt that there’s surely no room for him to breathe. But if that’s the case, he isn’t indicating that oxygen is a necessity as he’s dragging his tongue, flattened and broad, against your swollen clit in long licks. 

“That feels really good, Sakura. You’re doing such a great job.” You pause, but Suo’s quick, heated glance in your direction wills you to continue. “You’re doing a great job, and I like when you suck on my clit”

“Good girl. It’s important to thank your butlers. Now be sure to thank Umemiya, too.”

You turn your head to the side, gazing up at Umemiya, who is pulling up his undershirt in clenched fists, exposing his toned stomach and chest, and his pants hanging loosely around his thighs. His pectorals have been a rosy pink all night, the persistent blush only spreading as he lays witness to you and what you’re capable of.

Your hand is wrapped around his cock, fingertips unable to touch each other from the sheer circumference of him, but dammit you’re trying. “Thank you, Umemiya, for letting me jerk you off.”

Suo lets out a quiet hiss, pleased with your obedience. He grips you by the cheeks and leans down, his lips so close to yours, his eye peering into your soul.

“Who do you think should go first? Which butler would you like to request, love?”

You’d smirk if his hand wasn’t forcing your lips into a pout, but your eyebrow twitches, and you get that familiar glint in your eye that Suo loves so much.

“I don’t think anyone has to take turns. Everyone pick a hole.” 

Grade: A+

“P-please tell me how I can help you?”

When you see Nirei in his butler outfit, you swoon. How could someone so innocent and cute look like that? And while he blushes and stutters when taking your order, he’s probably the most impressive butler in the cafe.

He knows the menu like the back of his hand, is always on time, and is willing to stay late if need be.

Unlike the other participants on this list, your presence isn’t enough to shake Nirei, and admittedly, that might hurt a bit, right? In actuality, Nirei does so well because of you.

He knows you’re watching, so he’s careful with every movement and every word he says. He so desperately wants to impress you. So you might not always see it, but he’s watching you out of the corner of his eye, hoping you saw him interact with a client with perfect protocol. 

As you have lunch with your friends and your eyes meet, he’ll shoot you a little wave as he turns his attention back to a customer. Your friends will giggle because how did YOU trap someone so cute, sweet, and innocent?

And you’ll take offense to that because 1) you aren’t a predator who hunts cute little animals–-Bambi is most certainly safe when you’re around and 2) Nirei is anything but innocent.  

Grade: A+

After Hours:

"O-oh god! You’re amazing, so beautiful, please don’t stop! I-I’m gonna..!"

With shaky hands, Nirei hangs onto the plush of your ass–and on for dear life–as you ride him in reverse cowgirl position on the floor of the Butler Cafe. 

“O-oh, my god…” He musters the strength to bring his head up to look at you expertly bouncing on his dick, swallowing him whole like you were made for this.

He doesn’t think he’s going to make it.

“Y/N! P-please slow down!”

You let out a breathless giggle, your nails digging into his thighs for leverage as you sit up straight and roll your hips. “You did so well serving me today, Nirei! I’m just rewarding my butler.”

God and he’d serve you for a lifetime if it meant experiencing this.

“D-do you know what I’m doing right now, baby?”

He lets out a grunt, the only sound he can manage, as the muscles in his calves tighten to the point of almost cramping.

Fuck, why are you so good at this?

You swivel your hips to the left, right, up and down, dragging the head of his cock against your g-spot. “I’m spelling your name.”

S-spelling his-

Oh, fuck.

Nirei bites his lip, eyes rolling into the back of his head as something so inevitable, so ridiculously powerful, hits him like a freight train. A cross between a whimper-whine escapes from parted lips, and it catches you off guard because, if anything, his moan is a clear indication of how much he desires you and how much he’s always wanted you. 

You consider stopping, the rolling of your hips slowing, but the feeling of immense pressure makes you moan. The licking of your lips replaces the cocky grin on your face as you throw your head back.

Because, god, there’s just so much of it! 

You look between your legs as his cum drips from your cunt and onto the cafe floor. His balls still clenching and unclenching as he continues to pour into you. 

“Nirei, there’s so much!”

“Mmmm, h-happy to give you some more?”

Grade: A+

Special thanks to @suosgirl and @hayatoseyepatch for your ideas/contributions. 

[abbonation]

Red and Dripping

Kinktober prompt: Waxplay

Sub!Logan Howlett x Reader Smut 18+ 2.2k words

You want to introduce Logan to something new, he eagerly agrees.

Warnings and contents: Waxplay, dry humping, penis in vagina sex, creampie, mention of safewords, slight D/S dynamics (nothing harsh)

A/N: HII!! Yes everyone, I have joined the Wolverine love train, and I fear I'm never getting off, but I'm not mad about it. Anyway, college has been beating my ass with a pipe so this will likely be my only contribution to Kinktober this year 😔so plz forgive me and accept this heinous piece of work as penance.

As always, this piece is written with a chubby, reader who has a vagina in mind but other than that there is little to no physical description.

Love you guys, talk soon! XO

Red and Dripping

"So, Lo, have you ever heard of wax play?" you asked, as you and Logan sat down on your bed to watch TV in your room after training for the day.

"Nope, never heard of it." Logan replied, a while absently flipping through channels on the TV.

"Well, Cosmo says it's when you use hot candle wax on your partner's body and it feels really good. It’s  supposed to feel like a little sting at first but then the sting turns to pleasure." You explained to your boyfriend, trying to sound convincing.

"What, during sex?” You nod to affirm. “You want me to drip wax on you while we fuck?" Logan questioned, raising his eyebrow in that way of his.

"Well, actually, I was thinking I could do it to you." You suggested.

"Why me? I don't want my balls burnt." Logan said defensively.

"It won't burn you, baby. That's the whole point of it." You explained, adding with a laugh, "plus I'm not putting it on your balls, that is, if you're good, anyway."

"If you burn my balls, I'm never having sex with you again." Logan warned you.

"I actually already bought the candles for it, something told me you wouldn't be opposed to a little pain," You tell him with a smile. “If you wanted to give it a try now.”

“I’m gonna trust you on this one, princess,” He replied gruffly.

You walked over to your dresser and got out the three red paraffin candles you had purchased from a little truck stop slash sex shop outside of the city and a lighter. You return to the bed where Logan was still sitting, leaned against the headboard, and perch yourself on his thighs, straddling him. You put the candles on the bedside table and lit the first one. While you wait for it to melt a bit you turn to your Wolverine, his nostrils slightly flared and pupils dilated. "Baby," he moved his large warm hands over your hips and lower back, dipping his head forward to lick and kiss the junction of your throat and shoulder.

"Remember the rule, Logan?" You pull his head back, looking into his eyes, needing to know he wants this.

He nods, hands beginning to roam to your belly, you can feel him hardening under you.

You began by dripping a little bit of the warm wax onto the inside of your wrist to see how hot it was. It was definitely hot enough to make you jump but it felt good on your skin, a quick burn fizzling into a warm tingle.

"Let me try a little bit." Logan said while extending his arm towards you.

You do the same amount onto the inside of his wrist and he flinches a bit letting out a little moan in the process. "Mm- again," he whispered as he closed his eyes.

You poured more wax onto his wrist and he let out a louder moan and bucked his hips up, his cock brushing against your core through his sweatpants. His breathing increased and he sat up to take his shirt off before scooting to fully lay under you.

"You like it?" You ask him, focusing on how his cheeks and chest are already starting to flush for you.

"Yeah, honey it’s nice," he says, a little whiny as he looks up at you with hooded eyes. You took that as your cue to start.

You hold the candle a few inches over his left nipple, tilting it just slightly to pour just a little bit of the wax onto the peak.

He keened, "F-fuck, oh my god, that's good" His hands gripping the meat of your hips tightly, starting to slowly drag you back and forth against himself. Your underwear provides delicious friction against your clit.

"Oh god that's so good," he moans, eyes rolling back as he arches up, so you hold the candle higher and let more of the red wax drip off the candle down onto the upper part of his stomach. You do the same to the other nipple and litter more spatters on his toned chest, getting close to the base of his throat. He keeps moving his hips underneath you, now moving his feet up for more leverage.

You can feel yourself leaking into your panties now, the added slick lubricating the way you slide against the hard line of his cock, it's catching on your clit and you whimper, starting to lose the composure you had- but he isn't finished yet, still groaning beneath you, and you want more.

You pour another line of wax down his stomach, and then a second one right next to it. "Nggh, yeah sweetheart," You're so close now, the building pressure is nearly suffocating, just a few more thrusts against him and you'll be gone. But Logan is nearly there, you're sure of it, and you need him to come before you do. You want to see it. So you quickly set the candle down on the table, you don't want it to go out just yet. You run your hands over his pecs, feeling the heated skin firm under your fingertips. You rub your thumbs over his nipples and he huffs a groan.

"Please baby, please touch me," he begs.

You pull away from his cock, you don't want to push him over the edge too soon, can tell he wants to keep going. "It's okay, Logan, you're doing so well for me. We're gonna make you feel so good, I promise, just trust me," you murmur, taking his hands in yours, lacing your fingers together and holding them on either side of his head against the pillow. He nods, and swallows, you can feel him loosely humping up against you, begging for some friction on his dick.

You move your mouth down to suck at one nipple, dripping spit onto it, licking the hardened wax off his skin and scraping your teeth so gently against the hardened bud, you move to the other and do the same. He's panting under you, "Baby, please, please touch my cock, I need it," he nearly cries. You love when he begs, he's such a strong man, so composed and nonchalant, but he lets you do whatever you want to him, exterior cracking into a man who's so eager to please, desperate to receive. You give in, sliding down his body, dragging your clothed cunt over his hard dick before moving lower.

"What do you need, sweet boy?" You ask, nosing along his treasure trail, sucking at the pudge under his navel, placing kisses on the wax as you make your way to his pubic hair, teasing him as you pull down his sweatpants.

He can barely speak, "Touch me, suck my cock, anything, fuck, anything," he breathes. There's a wet patch on the front of his sweatpants, whether it's from you or him you're not sure, but you kiss it anyway. "Shit-" his cock twitches against your lips through the material. You pull the waistband down to let it spring free, he sways at the cool air, slapping against his belly, you cup his sac and bring them out too, all exposed now. His tip is an angry red, mimicking the wax, and a fat glob of precum bubbles out of the head, swollen with girth at how turned on he is. You lean forward and lick from the bottom of his balls up the vein to cup the tip of him with your tongue. "Ohh jesus," His hands move to cover his face now.

You lick back down to his balls, kissing them, suckling lightly at the skin, he tastes like salt and smells intoxicatingly of Logan, you suck one into your mouth and he moans. You pull away with a pop, "I'm gonna put more wax on you now, okay baby?"

"Yes, yes please do it," he answers, moving his hands to tangle in your hair, pulling slightly, you love it when he loses it like this. You move up to grab the candle, making sure it's still melty before carefully dripping it on his inner thigh, the reaction it pulls from him is immediate. "Fuck-" He growls, pushing his hips off the bed and gripping your hair and shoulders harder.

"What's the safeword, Logan?" You ask him, even though he doesn't really need to use it, but you want him to know he has control.

"Red, I'll say red if I need to stop." He answers, eyes still closed, panting and covered in a sheen of sweat. His cock is pulsing regularly now, balls drawing up tight against him.

"That's so good Wolvie, I'm so proud of you, look at how pretty you are for me" you praise, he whimpers at your words. You move the candle to pour some wax onto his other thigh, you make a little pool in the dip of where his hip joins to the top of his thigh.

You spit into your free hand, finally taking pity on him. You begin messily stroking his cock, and pour a drip of wax right above his pubes on his lower belly, making him writhe in pleasure filled pain. You can tell he's close, cock dribbling clear precum steadily into your hand and his stomach, you rub the tip of your finger against his hole, just to see what he'll do. He whines, "I want to come, I'm so close." His voice cracks like he's about to cry.

"You want me to fuck you?" You ask, knowing the answer.

"No- please just- please I-" he stutters, cut off by his own moaning as you rub the underside of his cock, right under his head. He's close, so close.

"Do you want to come?" You ask, "Tell me what you want, Logan, use your words."

"I wanna come, I need it, please let me come, I'll do anything," He begs.

"You wanna come in my pussy or my mouth? Or all over my tits?" You ask, squeezing your legs together for some friction.

He looks down at you, “Fuck, in your pussy, please, I can't wait– need to be inside you."

"Okay Logan, you've done so good, made me feel so good." You praise, climbing back over to be on top of him, sliding off your absurdly wet underwear down before pulling your tank top off over your head. He cups your tits, pulling your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, lightly twisting how you like.

You straddle his wide hips and grip the base of him to guide it inside, slowly lowering yourself down over the head, an obscene gooey sound happens as he breaches your untouched cunt, and you fold, the arm holding you up nearly collapsing as you slide down the rest of his incredible width. "Ah, holy fuck," Logan groans as he moves his hands to your hips, gripping you tightly as he bottoms out, cock nestled deep inside you.

"Ghh, Logan, so good, such a fat cock," you huff out as he pulses inside of you, balls pressed tightly against your perineum. He's panting and moaning under you, hips thrusting up slightly to get some friction, to move. You start grinding down on him, rubbing your clit into his pubic hair. "I'm not gonna last, princess," he moans, "I-I'm too close."

"I know, Lo, you can come whenever you want." You say as you lean back and brace your hands on his thighs, lifting up before sliding back down and starting to ride him as quickly as you can. -plap, plap, plap- His length stabs into your front wall, sharp bursts of euphoria blinding you, catapulting you towards orgasm.

"Fuck, baby, yes, fuck yes," he grunts, and takes over by holding your hips in place to fuck up into you. "Oh god," you cry, "Shit, I'm gonna come," you sob. "Let go Logan, please I need your cum all inside," you keen.

His eyes go blank, then roll back as his whole body tenses, his claws slice the space between his knuckles and sink deep into the mattress while his cock is swelling up and pulsing wildly within you as he comes with a yell, hot liquid flooding your cunt in harsh waves. His orgasm triggers yours, sending you spiraling over the edge blindly as you gush and pulse and flutter around his drooling cock. You absolutely collapse on top of him, his arms coming to wrap around you. There are no words as he turns you both to your sides, his cock still sheathed inside.

After a few moments of silence, and catching your breath you break the tension, "So how was that?" you ask, a little too cocky.

Logan smiles down at you, breathing a laugh, "It was pretty good, I guess."

You roll your eyes and giggle, "Just pretty good, huh?" You question.

Logan's smile grows, "It was amazing, you know me too well."

"It was, wasn't it?" You answer, looking back into his eyes.

You both burst out laughing, leaning forward and pressing your lips together. "I love you so much," Logan whispers after breaking the kiss.

"I love you too," you whisper back, resting your forehead against his. 

A few minutes passed before you felt Logan's cock twitch inside you, causing you to clench around him. "Ready to go again?" you asked your boyfriend.

"As long as it involves this pussy, I'm ready to go." Logan replied with a smile.

[cameronluvr]

BABY DADDY PART 2 — exbf!dad!rafe x mom!reader

summary: after rafe refuses to let you take the baby home, you call his dad and ask for his help. ward is the only person you know that can take control of rafe and calm him down.

warnings: toxic!rafe, arguing, angst, mentions of cocaine, mostly ward x rafe but rafe x reader towards the end, rafe is less toxic in this part — lmk if i missed any 𐙚

: ̗̀➛ 𝓶𝔂 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

you sit in your car outside rafe’s place, not daring to drive away knowing that your daughter isn’t in safe hands. you only know one person that can help you right now, and that’s ward. as crazy as ward can be sometimes, he is always willing to help protect you and his granddaughter when rafe gets too much.

you dial ward’s number in your phone, and he picks up almost straight away. “hey y/n, you ok?” he asks on the other end. “hi, uh… actually i sort of need your help. rafe’s— uh, in one of his moods again… and he has drugs lying around and is refusing to give y/d/n back to me.” you explain the situation to ward.

“he what?— i’ll be right over.” he tells you before hanging up. you sigh, putting your phone down in your lap and resting your head on the steering wheel in front of you, anxiously waiting for rafe’s dad to get there.

less than ten minutes later, he pulls up, parking his car behind yours. you saw him open the door and get out, so you do the same. “you alright?” ward walks up to you, rubbing your arm to try cheer you up. you looked awful. your eyes were red and wet, as well as your cheeks. “no, i just want her back” you shake your head, your lips quivering as you try to hold back tears.

“stay here, okay? i’ll go get her.” he tells you, seeing you nod. he walks up to the house, so you get back in your car and watch him through the window. ward wasn’t the greatest dad to rafe, but he wanted what’s best for you and your child, his granddaughter. he knows that rafe doesn’t treat you as well as he should, and thinks you deserve better.

ward knocks on the door, and rafe answers shortly after, holding the no longer crying baby in his arms. “oh, really?” he scoffs knowing you had called his dad. “yes, really, rafe. what the fuck are you doing?” he asks, looking at his son with disappointment, wanting to hear his side of the story.

“i’m not doing nothin’, dad, she was yelling at me, she made the fuckin’ baby cry, so i ain’t givin’ her back.” rafe looks his dad in the eye as he speaks, shaking his head. “why was she yelling at you, rafe?” ward asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

… no answer.

“huh? why, son?” he asks again, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from him. rafe rolls his eyes and sighs loudly, not necessarily wanting to say the reason. ward shakes his head and invites himself into the house, walking past rafe. “come in…?” rafe sarcastically mumbles to himself as he shuts the door with his free hand.

ward walks around the place to look for the drugs you were talking about. logically, rafe would’ve gotten rid of the evidence as soon as you left, but he didn’t get rid of all of it. the lines of cocaine were gone, but the bag was still there, indicating that he sniffed it when you left, but ward doesn’t know about that.

ward locks eyes onto the bag of coke, and walks over to it to snatch it from the coffee table. “really, rafe?!” ward raises his voice at his son, but not loud enough to scare the baby, she’s already witnessed enough fighting and yelling today.

“dad,” rafe whines like a child, as if he isn’t holding his own in his arms. “don’t dad me, are you kidding me?” ward’s eyebrows raise, and eyes widen in anger and shock, holding the bag in front of him.

“… rafe. you have a baby in your arms right now, and you’re high off this shit?” ward asks, sighing. “i’m not high.” rafe shakes his head, but ward knows he is. “right, okay. give me the baby” ward huffs, holding out his arms.

“no, why?” rafe asks, holding her back just like he did when you tried to take her. “because, she needs her mom. she’s worried sick outside, she’s crying… she just wants y/d/n back.” ward sighs as he explains, just wanting his son to understand and comply, not excuse and argue.

“she made her cry—”

“you had cocaine lying around with her child in here. you don’t think she has a reason to fucking yell at you?” ward asks, defending you, not him.

“she’s my child too!” rafe argues, pointing to himself with his free hand.

“i know, rafe, but a good dad wouldn’t put their child in danger like that.” ward says. “oh, and you were the most perfect dad, yeah?” rafe scoffs a laugh. “i know i wasn’t, son, and i’m sorry about that, okay? but can you please just give me the baby so y/n can take her home? do you really want her to think about her father the same way you think of me?” ward asks, holding out his arms, waiting for rafe to hand the kid over.

rafe really thinks about what his dad just said. he realizes that he really doesn’t want his baby girl to grow up and hate her dad, just like how he hated his dad for always mistreating him, leaving him out, and telling him to man up. he sighs after a few moments of silence, giving his daughter a kiss on the cheek before finally deciding to hand her over to ward.

“hi, sweet girl,” he softly says to her, gently taking her from rafe’s arms to hold her in his, smiling at her and kissing the top of her head. “thank you, son” he looks at his son as he holds his granddaughter on his hip, giving rafe a proud look. rafe nods, realizing he did the right thing.

“y/n’s waiting outside, so… i should go.” ward tells rafe, seeing him nod again. they both walk over to the door and rafe opens it, ward exits and stands in the doorway with the kid on his hip. “i love you, son, okay? remember that” ward tells him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “yeah…” rafe nods. he had never experienced much affection from his dad, so it was mostly unfamiliar to him.

as for you, you look out your car window to see rafe and ward at the door, and thankfully ward has your baby. you get out of your car, walking up the driveway to meet ward halfway. he hands the little girl to you, who is already looking at you with a grin and grabby hands. you quickly take her, mouthing a “thank you” to ward before he turns to talk to his son for a moment.

you walk back to your car to place your daughter in her car seat, sitting her down and strapping her up, making sure she has everything she needs. you place a pacifier in her mouth before giving her a sweet kiss on the cheek, turning around to see ward walking towards you, rafe following a bit behind him. “thank you, again, ward…” you say quietly, not wanting rafe to overhear and belittle you over it later. you know how unpredictable he can be.

“don’t worry about it, just glad she’s okay,” he says, giving you a little hug before saying goodbye to the baby in the car. “see you soon my little princess,” he rubs his granddaughters cheek with his finger, watching her smile at him. he takes his head out of the car, and says goodbye to you before heading back to his car.

rafe approaches you now, sighing as he silently walks up. “… i’m sorry” he seemed hesitant to say, it wasn’t ok, but he is still your baby’s father, whether you like it or not.

“… just, don’t do that shit around my daughter again, okay? because you seriously won’t be seeing her—”

“i won’t,” he cuts you off. “okay? i won’t. i’m sorry.” he says, surrendering his hands up in front of him. “good.” you cross your arms, nodding as you accept his apology.

he walks past you, and walks to the open car door behind you, where your daughter sat in the backseat, strapped and ready to go. she has a plushie toy in her hand she’s playing with, so rafe reaches down and giggles at the sight of her.

“daddy loves you, princess, m’kay? i’ll be better, for you” he says like she can understand him, giving her a kiss on the head before standing back up to close the door, turning around to face you again.

you stand with your arms crossed over your chest, and a slight smile on your face. “you mean that?” you ask, seeing him nod. “i’ll change, y/n. i realized i don’t want her to grow up with a shitty dad… like mine was,” he sighs. he loved his dad, but he sure was toxic.

“i’ll change for you, too, y’know…” he scratches the back of his head. you aren’t together, but he wants the best for his daughter, and that means keeping you happy, too.

you smile, opening your arms for a small hug. he accepts it, loosely wrapping his arms around your back to hug you. “i’ll see you soon, ‘kay?” you ask, seeing him nod. you walk around to the drivers side, getting in the car and putting your belt on.

you drive away, sighing at what had just happened. you’ve heard those words a thousand times from him in the past, you don’t know why you’re expecting him to keep his promises now that you have a kid together, but you sure as shit hope he changes. for the baby.

IDK WHY I ALWAYS MAKE RAFE LESS TOXIC IN THE 2ND PART OF EVERY STORY 💀 but nonetheless, i hope you guys enjoy part 2! .𖥔 ݁ ˖ let me know what you think in the comments. LOTS OF LOVE <33 — PS, NOT PROOFREAD, COULD BE MULTIPLE MISTAKES LOL, JUST IGNORE HAH

@cameronluvr

[theforgottencrow]

Throws my ColorKiller shipchild out and runs/j

*cough* anyways meet Ethanol! :D

A tiny lil guy who just wants to run around and collect everything and anything shiny or related to dinosaurs <3

info time :3

(there’s lots of it sorry I love this goober a lot)

As stated Eth is selectively mute! They’re more or less capable of speech (however with trouble) but choose to stay mute and instead prefer using their speech tablet whenever available to them.

She usually carries a dinosaur bag along with her which is usually carried by Killer or Color. It usually just contains her speech tablet, and dinosaur stuff but may contain other items on occasion.

Eth has to wear the grey suit basically 24/7 due to the fact that her entire body is made from/covered in flames; the suit is fire resistant and keeps her from burning/setting aflame other people or items she touches :)

The stuff leaking from her eyes and mouth are actually a combination of highly flammable liquids!! (Do not let that stuff touch her own fire/colors fire or any fire for that matter it will explode istg it has happened.)

He walks on all fours! He’s been doing this ever since he first learned how to walk and hasn’t stopped since. Killer and Color have tried to break this habit, but uh- haven’t had much success.. Which means yes he does it in public too and he couldn’t be care less! He’ll waddle to his hearts content.

Relative to the walking in all fours thing Eth has to wear a child harness in public due to how they tend to get distracted and want to run after things. There have been far too many instances from when they didn’t have a harness and caused his dads to go searching for him, only to find him in the weirdest places..

She has a hyperfixation on dinosaurs! She’ll immediately grab anything she has related to them and start letting out the flood of information she has on them as soon as you mention or ask her about it.

She has an odd love for drinking shit like gasoline and other flammable liquids, which in turn actually causes her flames to FUCKING EXPLODE. She’s okay ofc it doesn’t actually hurt them and if anything makes them laugh at the sensations but that’s not exactly the same for the stuff/prople around her (or her clothes for that matter)

Following the thing about her tears and spit being flammable liquids Color DID NOT have fun with that when she was a baby. That man is trying to nap and his baby keeps fucking exploding from the shit mixing with her flames.

Her Theriotypes are a Cladospecies of dinosaurs as well as canids!

Older Eth has Sickles as shown in the picture as her weaponry! She loves sickle weapons quite a lot and if anything treats them like Ink does for Broomie.

Color realized quite quickly that due to her bodily construct Eth burns any and all clothing that isn’t fire resistant.. So Color learned to make clothing just for her! Now all her clothing, so things like her suit and etc are hand made by Color himself <:3

Killer heavily encourages her to set things on fire (much to Colors disagreement) and has even purposely set her off on people just for shits and giggles.

Okay that’s all for now, feel free to ask anything abt them or anything else you want! :D

[urmum-lovesme]

Angel Baby - Rafe Cameron x Kook!reader P2

pairing: Best Friend!Rafe Cameron x Kook!Best-Friend!reader

summary: Rafe and Reader have known each other since kindergarten, always side by side, the king and princess of Figure 8. So why now does he start feeling different towards her, when all she's ever been is his best friend?

a/n: omg omg part 2! I can't believe so many people actually read the first part that makes me so happy :D. Tensions start to unfold here... featuring Wheezie cause I missed her in the new season. May have snuck in bi!reader again, should I keep that? Thank you so so so much for all the love! and enjoy the next chpt. (pt3 may be in a few days)

warnings: mention of drugs, dismissive mother, Ward (he deserves his own warning)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n grumbled to herself as she pulled her glasses over her face getting into the back of the car seat, the setting sun too bright for her liking, the orange hue now covering Kildare. Head thumping steadily caused a dull pain behind her eyes, she rested her heavy head against the seat letting out a huff. Her parents, sitting at the front, looked back at her through the rear view mirror, her mother speaking up as her father pulled out of their drive, making way towards Tannyhill for the family's monthly dinner with the Cameron's.

“I don’t know why you go around acting like an alcoholic y/n.” She spoke dismissively, as she swiped the dark red lipstick across her lips, puckering her lips together before capping the make-up with a click. “I’m not an alcoholic mom” She groaned back, the woman’s voice irritating her, why hadn’t she listened to Rafe? “Well you act like one. There’s a limit,” the woman scoffed, unimpressed by her daughter's unladylike attitude.

“Drop it Marie.” Her fathers voice rose up from behind the steering wheel speaking to his wife, the consistent clicking of the indicator filling the tension of the car. “Can we just have a peaceful evening hmm? No dramatics in front of the Cameron’s.” He continued, Marie pursed her lips as she looked straight ahead, he gazed over at his daughter through the mirror once again,

“You got that princess?”

“Yep.” She spoke back, popping the ‘p’ as she closed her eyes trying to ignore the throbbing in her head before they got to the household.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rafe was standing in his room, having just put on a new shirt after he had gotten out of the shower. He ran his fingers through his damp hair as he looked in the mirror, his thoughts filled with the family dinner. He knew y/n hated these dinners, probably not as badly as him but she still hated them. As he finished running his fingers through his hair, he heard a knock on his door, his gaze moving over to the sound. 

“Are you coming down y/n’s going to be here soon” Wheezie asked as she leaned against the doorframe, looking over to the boy impatiently. He rolled his eyes as he glanced over to his younger sister. He was about to respond with some sarcastic comment, before the words registered in his head. 

“Yeah, I am.” He responded, his mind now focusing on the fact that he would have to sit around at dinner and act like he had a stick up his ass for the next few hours. He made the final adjustment to his shirt, making sure he looked presentable, before he spoke to Wheezie once more, “Let’s go down then.” The girl walked behind him down the stairs before she spoke out, “You know dad said you’re not allowed to drink tonight…” cautiously, not sure how he’d react to the information, he was a little- unpredictable after all. Rafe rolled his eyes once again at Wheezie’s words, shooting her a glare as they made their way down the stairs. He was starting to get irritated by the rules that his father had for a simple dinner that happened every. single. month. 

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” He muttered in a dismissive tone as he glanced around once they reached the bottom of the stairs, hoping to catch any sign of y/n's family’s car pulling up. 

Sarah doesn't even need to be here, funny

The car rolled onto the grounds of the Cameron’s residence, gravel crushing under the wheels. Coming to a stop outside the building y/n let out a breath. Knowing tonight was going to be a long one, she prayed that Rafe was going to be in a good mood as she got out of the car, walking a few steps behind both her parents towards the doors. Rafe and Rose waited outside in the front yard as the car pulled up into the long drive way of the Cameron’s house. Rafe watched as he saw the family’s car coming up, he could faintly make out y/n's figure sitting in the backseat through the tinted windows, he chuckled as he watched her put on glasses to shield her eyes from the sun. 

Told her she’d have a hangover  

She followed her parents to the entrance of the home, both of them greeting Rose joyfully, a small ‘hello’, 'how are you' directed to Rafe before they walked off into the home following the blonde woman. Two steps behind them she got to the entrance, eyes looking at Rafe through her sunglasses letting out a huff of air. He chuckled as he watched y/n approach, seeing her in those glasses, grumpy and somewhat dishevelled. He had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. He smirked and held out his hand, “Rough night?”

“Shut up,” She grumbled as she held her hand up to him to stop the boy from his teasing. She took his hand as she walked up the stairs to the entrance, shaking her head she gestured to the doors leading inside. He smiled at her grumpy response and tried his best to hold back his laugh, “You’d only have yourself to blame princess. Told you it was a bad idea.” He spoke out with a teasing grin, as he put his hand on the small of her back, leading her into the home. They walked into the dining room, parents all speaking to each other. She looked over to the side where she noticed Wheezie running up to her happily.

“Y/n!” She exclaimed glad to see the older girl again, arms wrapping around her.

“Hey Wheeze,” she spoke out softly, one hand on the girl's back as her other one reached up, taking her sunglasses off her face. She knew if she didn’t her mother would complain, reminding her about manners. Rafe observed silently as the girl greeted his younger sister, she always looked up to her like a big sister, like Sarah. He leaned against the wall behind them as she spoke, crossing his arms, unable to take his eyes off of her, careful not to make it obvious. His parents sat at the table talking, while Wheezie clung to y/n’s side ranting about something he wasn’t really paying attention to.

“Omg no way what?!” Y/n gasped out invested in the girl’s story as she spoke to her about school gossip. The younger girl nodded her head eagerly before she turned away being called by her stepmother. He smiled as he watched the girl listen to his sister, both of them seemed to be completely immersed in whatever was going on. His eyes followed the young girl’s path as she turned to go sit next to Rose. He looked back at y/n,

“I don’t think she even paused to breathe once during that story.”

“I know right?” She shook her head amused, “I love her.” She spoke tenderly looking over to the girl, head now turning to Rafe, “like my own sister,” she commented. She didn’t have any siblings, and being an only child was an advantage but also a disadvantage when it came to her family. He smiled and met eyes with her, his expression soft as he heard them talk. She looked so sweet and tender as she watched his little sister.

Already like part of the family

 “She really does love you,” he spoke, leaning his head slightly against the wall as he continued to look down at the girl. 

“I’d hope so, I’ve only known her since she was born.” She commented at the boy rolling her eyes sarcastically. He chuckled as she playfully rolled her eyes, “I know, I was there,” he teased. He watched her closely, noticing her tired eyes and faintly dishevelled hair, the effects of the night's drinking, her lip-gloss slightly smudged below her lip. He liked how unkempt she looked in a way, there was something about her usual perfect appearance being messy that attracted him. 

...what? 

“So where’s Sarah?” She questioned. His jaw clenched at the mention of his sister's name, his expression shifted slightly into one of annoyance. “She’s out.” He said, his voice slightly bitter, keeping his answer short.

“Right,” she nodded along. She knew that Sarah was probably out with John B, and the rest of his gang. Not that she had any issue with the pogues, they were actually kind of funny, well when Rafe wasn’t around. Over the years she’s realised that Sarah was the favourite child, the rules applying to the other two siblings always seemed to slip past her. She knew it was because Ward would never criticise his golden child, but it wasn’t her place to say anything anyways. 

“Should we sit?”

He shrugged slightly. He was never super bothered by the fact that Sarah was the favourite, of course sometimes it did bother him, slightly. He knew there was no point crying over it, doesn't mean he didnt think about it.

“Yeah come on.” 

He nodded, grabbing her hand gently and led her over to the table, he pulled out a chair for her, offering it to the girl. She settled into her chair, Rafe sitting down next to her. His knee brushed up against her’s under the table as he pulled his chair in towards the table, they always sat together, it was nothing new. But this felt… different. Maybe it was the silk material of the dress she was wearing? He felt the urge to pull his knee away from her. The room was quickly filled with the sound of cutlery scraping against the porcelain plates, their parent’s discussing the latest news from around Kildare, that this family had done that, and this couple had said this. 

This is pointless… 

Do I still have that joint? 

“So y/n,” Ward spoke up from the other end of the table, breaking the silence between the two teens, “Rafe tells me you’ve been busy with your family business, that right?” 

She looked over to the man at his unexpected question, nodding lightly. “Yes sir,” she said, her parents always urged her to treat him with the utmost respect, considering that he was such a great financial investor in their company. Yet there was nothing more that she wanted but to ignore him and continue eating.

Rafe glanced over at his father when he spoke up. Ward had been asking about y/n a lot lately, his interest in the family business had perked up, being involved with the family for years but recently more than in the past. Rafe knew exactly why, the business had been doing well lately, and his father, being a rich financial investor, wanted to get involved some more to ensure their own success. He looked over at y/n, watching as she responded respectfully to his father, he almost wanted to laugh at how his father’s eyes lit up at the way she treated him.  

“She’s been working very hard.” she nodded her head as the boy spoke up from next to her, wondering what else the man could possibly want to ask her. She was aware that Rafe knew about the family, she told him everything so she wasn’t surprised when he responded for her. 

“Maybe you could learn from y/n hmm Rafe?”

Silence

 Y/n’s eyes flickered over to Rafe, his fork now harshly gripped in his hand. His head whipped around to look at his father as he clenched his jaw in displeasure. He tried to control the annoyance from seeping into his voice but anyone could hear the tension in his tone as he spoke up,

“I do plenty of hard work.”

“Right.” 

Ward responded firmly, clearly unimpressed. Y/n could sense the tension between them, she felt the need to change the conversation to break the uncomfortable atmosphere which formed around the table, everyone else keeping their eyes down from the father son clash which has commenced halfway through dinner, 

“Um Rafe tells me the company is expanding really well…”

Rafe felt his irritation grow as his father continued to belittle his work, in front of everyone, but he tried his best to hold in the anger. He was thankful as he heard y/n speak up, trying to change the subject away from what his father had been pestering him about. Ward seemed to loosen his annoyance and turned back to the girl, 

“Yes, but I must say, I’m quite taken back by what your parents have achieved. It’s very impressive.”

Y/n sat back as her father jumped to the occasion to discuss his work. She let out a quiet breath, shoulders lowering in relief. From the corner of her eye she could see Rafe, body still tense as he aggressively cut into the food on his plate. Her hand reached out under the table, palm lowering gently to rest on his knee in a comforting gesture. He felt the girl’s hand lower down onto his knee, it did comfort him slightly. He let out a small huff of air as her hand gently stroked his knee. He hadn’t noticed how tense he’d become when his father started talking to him, she was the only one who could tell. He let out a sigh, knowing he would have to try and avoid his father for the rest of the night, for both of their sakes.

Her eyes searched for his sending him a small smile, hoping to reassure him. She didn’t like the way his father treated him, never had and never will, she hated it actually. He acted like Rafe was the black sheep of the family, always finding a way to remind him of that. She kept her hand on his knee as her other hand held the silver fork, stabbing at the salad on her plate and lifting it to her mouth. He felt a small sense of relief at the girl’s smile, he’s realised over the years that she often didn’t like the way his family talked to him, especially his father which she wasn’t afraid to tell him about. As he watched her take a bite off her fork, his eyes couldn’t help but notice her soft lips close around the fork. The subtle curve of her mouth lingered on the metal, a delicate, almost teasing motion, his chest felt tight. In that moment he almost forgot the tension from earlier as his mind was occupied by something else now.

Stop

She heard the boy next to her clearing his throat, mumbling out an ‘excuse me’ as the sound of the chair scraping against the floor filled the room, rising and standing up, chucking his napkin onto the chair and walking out the room towards the bathroom. Her brows furrowed slightly, had Ward worked him up that much? He mumbled out his  apology to everyone in the room as he stood up and quickly walked out the room, he shut the bathroom door behind him and let out a frustrated sigh. It was his father, that’s what it was. It was how he talked to him that pissed him off, he hated being made to feel like a complete failure in the eyes of his father, and he hated that he couldn’t do anything about it. 

But that wasn’t it though was it? 

… 

It was Angelina. It was the way her hand rested on his knee, that damned smile she’d send him to get him to calm down. Those, those stupid lips which lingered on her fork and wrapped around her straw when she lifted her glass to drink. 

Get yourself together 

She looked over her shoulder wondering if she should follow after the boy, would her parents get mad if she just got up after him. She turned her head back now, Wheezie who was sitting opposite her looked at the girl nodding her head slightly so no one else would notice, shoving a potato into her mouth as she did so. “Um- I’m sorry I’ll be right back.” she spoke out gently, no one paying any attention as they’d fallen back into conversation, she quietly stood up walking in the same direction as him.

Rafe let out another frustrated sigh, hand coming up to pull at his hair as he stared at himself in the mirror. He put his hands on the edge of the sink and let his shoulders drop. He was annoyed but that wasn’t all. Y/n was still on his mind, her hand, her sweet smile, her lips… He never struggled to control himself around her. Fuck. She was his best friend. Yet tonight he couldn’t help it, he was overthinking and over analysing every single action, every single smile, every single touch and it was making him lose his mind slightly. 

Is this a symptom of withdrawals?

 He’d tried to lower his intake of the white powder, he knew she’d asked him to try cause she was getting worried. He felt bad. He’d never want to be the source of her Worries. But this just wasn’t right. The quiet sound of the bathroom door opening pulled him out of his mind and he snapped his head up to see who’d entered. His eyes widened slightly as he saw y/n, he hadn’t expected her to follow him.

“What are you-”

“-are you okay?” 

She whispered out as she quickly walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her quietly hoping no one noticed, lord knows gossip would arise between the workers of the household, she’d caught them talking before. He let out an exasperated exhale. Of course, of course she was checking in on him like she always did. He felt his heart flutter slightly at the thought of her worrying about him,

“I’m fine.”

 He responded quickly. He turned to the sink, turning on the faucet and filling his hands with water, he held them in front of his face, not wanting the girl to see expression.

“Okayyyy.” She drew out as she leaned her back against the door of the bathroom, the cold wood pressing against the exposed back of her dress. Her arms crossed as she looked to him sceptically, “You seem a little…. on edge?”

Yeah you have no idea 

He let out a small scoff as she called him out on how he was acting. He was usually so good at hiding his emotions, but the girl had learnt to read him like an open book, it was almost infuriating how well she understood him.

“Really? What gave it away?” He replied sarcastically, he splashed the cool water on his face, trying to hide his expression from her once again.

“Oh I don’t know” She smiled in amusement as she walked over to where he was standing, heels clicking against the tiled floor. Pushing the toilet seat down the porcelain clinking slightly, she sat on the cover as she looked over to him tapping her manicured nails against the marble faucet counter. “Maybe cause you paraded off like a drama queen?” She teased.

He dismissed her with a dry laugh, his eyes rolling in annoyance as she spoke. He knew that she was only teasing him, and he would usually respond with witty remarks and banter, but he couldn’t focus enough to think of a retort back at her, as she sat so close to him taunting.

“Watch it or I’ll lock you in here.” He responded to her teasing, he was trying his best to sound unbothered but it came out as strained instead. Her eyes softened slightly at the sound of his voice. Standing up she stood next to him, hand coming up to place on his bicep in an offer of sympathy, “C’mon I’m serious… are you okay?”

His body tensed slightly as the girl’s hand rested on his arm. Her touch made his skin burn excitedly and he suddenly became hyper aware of how close her body was to his as he stood with his back to the sink. He couldn’t look up at y/n as her eyes gently searched his face, so he kept his eyes down, his jaw clenched. He felt a pang of guilt at her worry for him, he didn’t like it, and he didn’t like the fact he felt like he was taking advantage of the situation. 

If you really knew what I’m thinking, would you still react the same? 

“Yeah I’m good”

“Mkay.” She breathed out, taking a step back realising he needed his space. Her eyes couldn’t help but get caught on the small water droplets still on his face, clinging to his lashes which covered his troublesome eyes, dropping down and rolling down his cheeks, resting on the cupid bow of his lips. Her gaze lingered on his lips, almost involuntarily as she felt a sudden rush of heat she wasn’t prepared for, it was a startling realization, one that made her heartbeat quicken and her breath catch in her throat. 

Wait what?

The feeling of her hand leaving his arm sent a chill down his spine, he had to resist the urge to grab her hand and keep it on his arm. He closed his eyes shut as she stepped back, he was so confused. Why did the girl being so close to him suddenly make his body feel so weird. He opened his eyes after pulling the towel which he had lifted to wipe the water off his face away, to find y/n staring at him.

 “…you’re staring”

“Right”

She cleared her throat, why had her mouth gotten dry all of a sudden. She took a step back, hands clasped behind her back as she waited for him, looking down at the floor. He kept his eyes on her movement. Her body language seemed off for some reason. 

Is she... nervous? 

But that didn’t make sense, he was the one who was confused. Why was she acting so weird? He took a step forward until he was right in front of her, his eyes looking down at her intently, she still didn’t look up at him. He tilted his head down slightly, trying to get her to meet his gaze.

“Look at me”

Noting his shoes now standing opposite hers. Her eyes fluttered up looking at the boy in-front of her. She met his gaze with a small smile as she swallowed trying to regain her composure. 

Is my ovulation cycle earlier or what? 

He looked at her intently, his eyes searching her own, trying to figure out why she suddenly seemed so nervous. He noticed the way her throat bobbed as she swallowed, he saw how her expression seemed to be fighting to stay composed, something was wrong, but he couldn’t work out what it was. His gaze darkened as his eyes continued to scan her face, not breaking contact with the girl’s own eyes,

“Tell me what’s wrong”

He spoke up, his voice low and quiet, in a tone she’d never heard from him before.

“Nothing” 

She spoke out a little too fast. She let out a sigh hand coming up to run over the arch of her brow. “Nothing… I’m just worried about you,” she spoke out, looking at him genuinely. That wasn’t wrong. 

He hummed with a hint of sarcasm, he didn’t believe her. He knew when she was lying, they’ve been friends long enough, and he was certain she was doing it right now. He’d never seen her so nervous, well maybe except for when they were younger and she’d made him meet up with her before her first date with some waitress- or something like that. It was driving him insane. 

“No way, don't lie to me. Something’s wrong. I know it is,” he spoke out firmly.

“If something was wrong I’d tell you,” she arched her brow as she looked up to him crossing her arms speaking out, 

“Would you tell me?”

His eyes bore into y/n’s as she stood in front of him with her arms crossed, her expression determined. 

“Yes I would. I don’t keep secrets from you.”

“Yeah well neither do I.”

 She asserted, looking at him as she tilted her head up. He exhaled loudly in frustration as she stood in front of him with her head held high and her arms crossed stubbornly.

“Bullshit. You obviously are keeping something from me right now. You’re acting weird” He had to put his hand on the counter to ground himself.

“I’m acting weird?” She let out a mocking laugh before pointing her finger towards him, “You’re acting weird!”

He couldn’t help the scoff that escaped his lips as she pointed at him, this was starting to feel more like an argument than a conversation.

“I’m not the one stuttering and staring at the floor” He retorted back harshly gesturing to her as he spoke.

“I’m not the one running away from the table!” she spoke out slightly louder now with wide eyes as her hand gestured out the door back to the table.

His eyes narrowed in response to her remark, this argument was going back and forth, and no one was backing down from their position, he’s been friends with her for too long to know definitely wasn’t going too.

Stubborn brat

Moody asshole

“I didn’t run away” He said, tone now defensive and cold.

“I-” She sighed out, fingers reaching up to pinch at the bridge of her nose, “I didn’t come here to fight Rafe. I just wanted to know if you’re okay.”

He let the tension leave his shoulders as she spoke again, realising he’d projected his own frustrations onto her. He squeezed his eyes shut momentarily and exhaled loudly, realising how annoyed he’d become for some reason. 

“Look… I’m fine, really. You don’t have to worry about me. I’m alright princess.”

He didn’t like the way y/n still looked at him like she didn’t believe him, but he didn’t want to start another argument. He reached out to her gently, his pinkie finger wrapping around her own, the tradition starting when they were younger. 

“I mean it. I’m fine, I promise, alright?”

He spoke sincerely. He really was fine, he couldn’t say what had come over him before, but he was fine now. 

I think 

She smiled genuinely at his action, as she brought their hands up between them keeping their pinkies intertwined, “Pinkie promise?” She spoke out hushed as though it was a secret, she couldn’t deny it amused her, thinking back to how they used to do it when they were younger, it used to be a sacred oath back then.

His lips curled up in a smile as their pinkies intertwined together. He found the childhood gesture endearing, the thought that they both still did it even after all these years. He couldn’t deny it, it made his heart race in his chest. He chuckled lightly as he nodded his head gently, the sound of the girl’s voice whispering filling his ears.

 “Pinkie promise” He responded, his voice just as quiet as the girl's. He didn’t want anyone to hear them from outside the bathroom, as though it was their very own secret ritual once again. She let go of his finger gently as she took a step back nodding her head, her hand reaching out for the door handle, 

“I’ll wait for you outside?” she questioned as she pushed the cold handle, the metal letting out a tiny squeak at the pressure as she pulled it towards her. He sent her a nod, corners of his lips pulling up into a small smile as he turned back to the mirror, faucet turning on again. She slipped through the door, closing them behind her. She let out a breath, leaning her back against the door, hand coming up to push her hair out of her face. 

What the fuck was that about…?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist: @evermorx89

[mustangbby]

PREGNANCY CONFLICTS - boothill x reader

- boothill "passes" a few days after you announce your pregnancy. he's soon returned to you as a cyborg, and has a rough time with all of the realizations he discovers during your pregnancy.

- thank u guys sm for all the compliments im getting in my inbox about my idea and my writing i love every single one of u guysssss 💋 💋 and now the fic for my idea is finally here! i hope you guys enjoyyyyy

- mentions of insecurity, PREGNANCY, boothill is sad in this shdjfjsks so pretty much hurt no comfort in a very mild way, "M,d,y" means month, day, year, his way of death is not canon i made something up!!! wc 1.5k

Boothill has always talked about being a father. With how optimistic about your guys’ future he was, you could already tell he’d be a great, great father. So when you announced your pregnancy to him, he was ecstatic.

He spun you around in the air, putting you down to kiss you passionately. To him, all of his dreams have come true. As if you’ve given him a strong purpose in life, to not only protect you but to protect his little, and hopefully more to come.

“Thank you,” he mumbled into your shoulder as he held you tightly. “Thank you for giving me such an opportunity.”

But then a few days after you announced it to him, he went missing. You spent day and night trying to contact people, get cops on the case, and go out there with someone yourself and try to find him. The cops brought a necklace, splotched in blood, with your initials on it. Saying they found his body and it was barely recognizable. They knew it was him because of the necklace around his neck and the wedding band that was stuck on a stray tree branch.

As both of those were returned back to you, you felt as if you couldn’t look at them without absolutely breaking down. You were set under the impression that he was gone forever. You felt horrible- not only for yourself, but the life you assumed your baby would have, being born into a world where they only have a mother who's trying her absolute best to provide and make sure their life goes as smoothly as possible.

On the 16th week of your pregnancy was when you heard a knock on the door late at night. Who could it be at this hour? You irritatingly got up and walked over to see who would be there.

It was who you were least expecting.

Boothill.

You stood there, unable to register what was happening. You had a hand on your stomach and the other was gripping the door handle. He stopped and stared at you back before beginning to speak.

“Y/n,” he said, nearly a whisper before he took a step closer to you. You didn’t step back, which was a good thing in his eyes.

“Boothill? What- how- huh?” You were absolutely speechless, unable to register the man standing in front of you. He’s dressed a lot differently then how you last saw him- he looked so western. He was western before he was pronounced dead, the accent is what got you in the first place. He’d always go to bars and all of that.

But he never looked so… out of place.

You’ve never seen the boots he had on before. You’ve never seen those pants (why do they look so slutty?) and his shirt was a whole other thing.

But the thing that intrigued you the most was that he was still standing, alive in front of you, but with a fully metal body.

“Come in and explain yourself,” you sighed, turning around and leading him into the all-too-familiar place. It still smelled the same way it used to, flowers and vanilla. He sat down on the white couch, leaning back into the same fabric he knew all that time ago.

But the difference was, he couldn’t feel it.

“How are you here? There's no way you’re real,” you shake your head, standing up and leaning into his face. You grab his chin lightly, turning his head both way before running your hands through his still silky hair. “Answer my questions.”

“Alright, shoot em.”

“When did you get me pregnant?” You ask, still looking into his now different eyes.

“Four months ago. You should be 16 weeks now.”

You nodded. “When's my birthday…?”

“M,d,y.”

You nodded. He was on it, and it’s convincing you even more that he was your Boothill.

“Lastly, why are you metal?”

“My body was destroyed. Y’ probably remember it,” he looked down at his hands before bringing them up to your cheek. You slightly flinched from the chill before nodding for him to continue his story. “I don’t remember th’ exact details, but jus’ say it was a failed mission.”

You looked at him up and down before sitting beside him.

“D’you still… love me?” He mumbled, almost soft enough that you’d miss it if you weren’t paying attention.

You took a moment of silence before responding to his question. “Of course I do. You’re my husband, Boothill.”

To that he smiled and brought you into a strong kiss. One passionate and greedy- he’s been starved of you as you have of him for the past four months. Once he broke it off, you both connected your foreheads before going back into a full blown make out session.

Your pregnancy is incredibly taxing for the cyborg to handle. Instead of flesh and blood he has metal. He can’t feel you, and to him, it’s the worst feeling in the world. He truly wishes he could turn back time to right before the night of the accident.

He wishes he was able to return home safe, so he could be there for your whole pregnancy. He basically missed the entire first trimester!

At this point, you marked 32 weeks. Your pregnancy was very noticeable and Boothill took a lot of pride in being alongside you, shedding his insecurities as soon as he left the house.

He’s always been a very clingy man. He’s always wanted your touch and attention whenever he’d get home from whatever it was he’d do for work during the day, and he’d always receive it.

But now, he needs to use his head to feel you. He’s always found lying down on your stomach in his free time, so he can feel his child. He is unable to feel kicks with any other parts of his body, so he relies on that.

“‘Hill, I need to go to the bathroom. You might need to move in a second here-” you started, but he looked up at you and began to speak over you.

“Alright, alright… but’cha better come right back, please?”

You nodded before shuffling out of the bed, motioning for him to get up and help you off of the mattress and up on your feet. Once he easily pulls you up, he flops back down as he watches you close the door connected to your room.

He thought hard in those two minutes you were gone. Very hard. To the point he thought he was going to have a breakdown.

He regretted everything. He regretted engaging in the enemy's tricks. He regretted leaving you lonely for so long. And what he regrets most is returning to you like this.

A hunk of metal, who can be destroyed as many times as possible. He’ll always be able to have his body replaced. His head and hair were the only human thing about the man.

He believes you deserve so, so much better. You deserve a man who can live his life to the fullest and actually be able to be there for you during your vulnerable times, and not let grief get in the way. You deserve someone capable of giving you more children in the future, and he believes your baby deserves a dad who can be there for him and be normal.

He might even be worried about judgment. He’s not sure. He feels so emotional yet so dull at the same time.

“Boothill? Is everything alright? You’ve been staring at the same spot on the wall for the past minute,” you said from next to him. How did he not even realize your presence?

“Hah? Yea, I’m fine. How’re ya’ feeling?” He says in his usual tone, trying to swiftly play off his thoughts not even ten seconds ago. “How’s baby doin’ in there?”

You let out a soft giggle before placing your hand on his cold knee. “We’re well. I’m concerned about what just happened with you though. Tell me, what is on your mind?”

The man sighs and shakes his head before resting it back on your belly. “Nothin’ to worry your pretty head off about.” He simply left it at that and nothing more.

When it came time for labor, he was truly nervous. Every attempt he made at trying to make physical contact with you in that time failed, because his hands were either too hard or too cold. He backed off and watched from the sidelines as you brought his little baby girl into the world.

He so desperately wanted to hold her, and you could see the urge in his eyes. She looked so much like him. She had his gorgeous silky black and white hair with your eyes. He thought she was an angel brought from heaven.

Once he finally got to hold her, he was told to keep her swaddled in the blanket she was wrapped in. All was well until she started crying due to the cold of his arms, and the baby was taken off into tests before he could even blink.

[solar4seekstron]

Tf1!SG!Orion Pax/Optimus Prime x Cybertronian!GN!Reader: Trapped

150 followers special!

TW/Tags: Toxic Relationship, Manipulation, mention of Pregnancy, mild dubcon/noncon, threats, mild cursing, death, couple sex scenes (will be in purple if uncomfortable), OP is loyal but evil, I think that’s all??

Content: Orion pax becomes Optimus Prime and with that power he becomes your Conjunx. You don’t find out his true colors until it’s too late. At least…that’s what you tell yourself.

Note: The reader is basically the same in the regular universe. I just got this idea because I saw some cool art with their SG versions. This fic is pretty dark so please read TW/Tags if you are uncomfortable. I have been cooking this one up for a while so I hope you enjoy! In my stories when the reader is GN! They both have a spike and valve since they’re both genders and genderless. So they can get pregnant and get other gn or femmes pregnant.

You were best friends with the iconic duo. Although D was a bit of a cry baby. You were always so gentle with him. And had to scold Orion when he would make fun of him. You were even used to Orion's flirts and quick remarks towards you. You were like a mix between the two being both strong and kind.

You always had a strong personality and quiet when it came to your actions. You are gentle but tougher than what most people would expect you to be.

Overtime you and D became more like siblings if anything.And Orion mostly kept to himself unless he wanted to hang with you two. Even at times placing both of his cervos on your hips when you two would be talking to each other.

At times when it was just you and Orion. He would always flirt and mak you smile. Even when he got touchy at times. You dint mind. You just wanted him and D to be happy. You did have a bit of a crush on him.

You wont lie. But you didn’t always agree with him and you didn’t really know how to deal with them.

Youre certain he has a good heart and you know he has feelings for you as well. He even started courting you a few days before he disappeared.

He became intimate with you one day when he asked you to go with him to the sign for the Iacon 5000 to just “Hang Out.” You weren’t against it. To finally feel his embrace was wonderful. And he was so gentle. That was the start of his courtship.

And the next day made a promise to you as Disclocure. To always protect you and keep you by his side. His Prefference by showing that he truly sees and treats D as his own brother.

The next day he was to give his devotion as the final part of your courtship….but..After a day though they disappeared…Until that day.

When the events happened you weren’t able to fully know what they were talking about but just their actions told a story…

You didn’t know who to believe and you just tried you best to find out what happened after you had to watch one of your best friends leave with the high guard. You were spark broken. After some time some guards found you as you spoke with the crowed. They took you by force and flew you to the tower that once belong to Sentinel.

Now belonged to the city its new leader Optimus Prime.

As you made your way in you noticed Elita and a blue bot with yellow shades glare at you as they leaved the room. Once you entered you realized it’s just you and Optimus Prime. His back to you. When he turned to you he was holding a data pad and had a grin on his face.

“Ah Y/N my closest friend.” He sat in one of the chairs. “Please come. Have a seat.”

You walked forward and pulled the chair next to him and takes a seat. He watched you with a grin and once you sat down he spoke.

“So old friend. Was worried I’d never see you again.”

His cervo rested on top of yours on the table as he smiled down at you. His optics narrowing down at you as he grinned. You decided to just get to the point.

”Ori-Optimus. What really happened that day. That moment with D…” His grin was soon gone. He then closed his optics for a moment then opened them. His cervo gently squeezing your cervo as he leaned a bit closer.

“He betrayed us. He’s nothing but a traitor to you and me. He wanted to continue to enslave us!”

He lied as he stared down at you. You took in his words and sighed as you turned your cervo to hold his. “I…I just can’t believe it….”

Optimus optics narrowed. “You know, we are no longer slaves to our city. I’ve been thinking.” He then held your cervo then kiss the back of it as his optics stared at you.

”Will you be mine sweetspark? Be a part of my life as I will for yours?” You only stared at him as you looked at your cervo in his… “I…..”

Is this the right call? He’s devoted to you and it shows… almost and he only stared at you. You then descide..

“Yes. I’ll be your Conjunx Optimus.” You gave him your usual gentle smile. He loved that smile. He created for that smile.

He gently pulled you to him. As you stood up he set you on his lap and gently held you. His cervos on your thigh and aft as he still looked down at you as your cervos rest on his shoulders. “Let’s make it official now, shall we sweetspark.” He gently pulled your frame against his.

Both frames now pressed together as your dermas connects. You both stared at each other for moment until you both closed your optics the room was quiet as you both heard nothing but your kisses.

One of your cervos gently holding the side of his helm as his cervo that was once on your aft move to your lower back to keep you pressed against him.

You both two stayed in this moment for a while longer. After what felt like minutes he tried to press his glossa against your dermas asking for access. But before you can accept. The doors opened. You turned to look at the entrance of the doors much to Optimus annoyance.

“What do you want Elita?”

She then speaks of how they need to get started with rebuilding the city. Optimus rolled his optics. Your frame no longer against him as you listened to her. Who just seemed annoyed to even see you right now.

His cervo now resting on your aft once more as his helm rests on his fists as he listens to her. He’d then sit a little straighter as Goldbug walks in and starts to pick a fight with Elita. You were basically sitting on his thigh as your cervos rested on your own lap.

”I should probably go…I’m kinda hungry.” You got off his lap and stood as the two continued to bicker. His cervos gently grabbing your waist and the other your arm.

”Wait hold up sweetspark no need to go. We can both grab some energon together.”

He said softly as he stood up bringing you a bit closer as he stared down at you. You only looked up at him with an unsure expression. “Optimus you are a leader now. I’ll bring you some treats on my outing, alright?” you leaned up and gently kisses his dermas as his expression seemed more annoyed.

You then walked off as he stared at you. Passing by the two and walking through the door.

———————————————————————————

After some time you returned through the doors to the meeting room. You knew he was in there thanks to the guards letting you know. When you walked in you didn’t see Elita or goldbug. And Optimus was speaking tp a few other high councils that you knew who were once miners.

They were speaking and when you peaked through the door. They seemed to still be busy and slowly closed the door.

You noticed Elita and Goldbug weren’t there. You were then told by one of the guards that you and Optimus have your own sleeping quarters. He led you there and told you by orders you must wait there. And so you did. Looking out the window. “I hope his meeting is going alright..”

After a few hours. The door finally opened. You head down the stairs in the apartment as Optimus walk in. Locking the door behind him as he walked past the kitchen area and living room. As you got down stairs you treated him with snacks you got when on your day out. He seemed out of it. “Would you like to lay down. You look exhausted.”

He only stared down at you and slowly nodded a small smile on his dermas. And so you both walked up stared to your shared room. You held his cervo as all he looked at was your aftas you walked unaware.

Once in your shared room, he’d gently picked you up like a bride as he walks to the berth. As you wrapped your arms around his neck and gently kiss his helm.

You heard him chuckle as he lays you on the berth. Him ontop with one cervo on the bed to support him as the other gently rubs the side of your waist. Your cervos holding the side of his helm and pulled him down to you and kiss him. The kiss a lot more hungry as he let out a moan against your dermas. He has been waiting to do this all day. You could tell just by the way he pressed his panel against yours as he thrust against it a few times. His cervos around yours waist lifting you up. Your arms around his neck.

You accepted when he pressed his glossa against your dermas. Accepting the kiss only became more hungry.

As his panel rubbed more against yours as he growled in the kiss, you finally finished teasing him and opened you panel.

He was quick to open his. His spike large and- pretty girthy. He wasn’t too gentle though. Shoving his spike into you without preparing. This caused you to moan and groan loudly against the kiss for a moment in mostly pain then pleasure.

He left his spike in there as you adjust to his size. Your legs shaking as he placed gentle kisses on your neck cables and shoulder.

His cervos holding your hips up against his own. His knees on the berth now as your arms remain around his neck. It took you some time as tears run down your cheeks from your optics. He gently kissed your tears away and he whispered to you.

”Breath sweetspark. It’s alright…” He whispered.

After a few moments you slowly nodded to him and he began to thrust into your valve. Slowly pulling out at first then pushing back in.

This causing you to continue moaning. His dermas against the front of your neck, gently sucking on the sensitive cables. You can feel his grunts and moans against your neck.

Even the berth moving with your body as he thrusted. each one fast and rough.

This continued on for what felt like hours. He mustve overloaded in you at least four times now. You loaded at least 7 times.

And you were becoming exhausted. You tried to speak saying you were exhausted for the past few minutes but your moans always got in the way.

Until you finally was able to say “Stop”. He did so. He looked at you. Seeming like he was barely not out of breath. So you looked at him with tired optics. “You have showed…Your devotion…” He stared at you and chuckled.

”Ready to bond Sweetspark?” You slowly nodded, his spike still in your valve as his load slowly leaked out.

He gently kissed your forhelm as you closed your optics. You chest slowly opening which you weren’t sure why it did. His spark then opened a lot faster and you were hit with a pleasurable feeling.

Both of your sparks dancing together as a bond begins for you both.

After a moment your both are bonded. You two stared at each other as you continue to catch your breath. He only looked down at you with loving optics and gently lifted you against his frame.

Then laying you on the berth closer to the window. As he lays on the other side. Your legs were closed and still shaking a little.

Your frame over heated as your helm turned to him. He was smiling as his cervo gently rubbed your other arm. Your other cervo against his chest as he used his other arm to support himself “You did so good sweetspark.”

He’d give you a gentle kiss as he sat up and grabbed a towel and started to clean you up gently. Being a true gentlemen. After he slowly cuddled you. You were on your side facing the window as he came behind you also laying on his side.

His arm wrapped around your waist as his front frame is against your back and aft. As his legs pressed against yours.

You turned your helm a bit to look at him. He leaned his hel forward to be able to kiss your dermas as a good night kiss. You both then lay your helm down and fall asleep as you both closed your optics. Though….it took you some time to fall asleep yourself. Not to mention his grip around you was pretty….firm.

———————————————————————————

In the morning as the sun started to rise. The window was the cause for the sun to hit you first. Your optics slowly opening and as you slowly sat up.

Your valve and thighs were very sore. As you sat up, you noticed Optimus was on his back still asleep. But his cervo was resting on the side of your hip. As you sat up you moved his cervo to your lap.

Using your body to keep the sun from hitting his optics as you sat up. Using your arm above his helm as support as you leaned down to kiss his forhelm. You’re sure because of you moving caused him to wake up.

He grumbled a bit, his optics stilled closed as his cervo that was icloser to you was now under you. It now resting and holding your waist as you kissed his helm. Your cervo that wasn’t supporting you up now on his cervo that’s on your lap.

His optics slowly opened as he stared up at you. “There’s a view id like to wake up to every day”

You chuckled. “Good Morning to you too.” Both of your dermas connect. Both closing your optics. As his cervo that was once under yours moved to the side of your helm, his other one on your waist was pulling you closer. Until you stopped him.

”Why don’t I fix us some breakfast before our day start, yeah?” You gave him your usual soft smile. He held back a groan and just nodded. Giving to a half smile as you got up. Out of his grasp. He sat up, moving his cervo up to protect his eyes from the suns light as he watched you make your way to downstairs.

He’d then get a comm by Ratchet. He soon had a frown on his face.

You made it downstairs and started to get some energon ready for the both of you on some nice plates in the room. As you sat the plates on the table and sat down. Optimus came down and seemed annoyed.

“I have another damn meeting with the new council.”

You stood up and walked closer to him. “You should eat before your meeting sweetspark.” You hand him his plate. He only stared down at you with a bit of a frown before closing his optics for a moment. Then gives that same fake smiles as he leaned down and kissed the top of your helm. Gently taking the plate and sits down as he eats. You watched himm. Noticing the change in him. You summed it up to the council and meeting he has coming. You just picked up a data pad on a shelf and started scrolling through it as you stood there. Your back to him.

He noticed and finished his food. Then walking to behind you and looked over your shoulder. His helm a bit closer to you. “And what are you doing sweetspark?” He glanced down at you as you payed not much mind to him. using your gig it to scroll through a page as you spoke.

”I’m just looking for any opened jobs. I should do my part for the city sweetspark. I cant be just the Leader of Iacon cities Conjunx.”

You speak with optimism. A gently smile gracing your dermas.

Little do you know his optics are dark as he stared at you. Until his cervo rests on our hip. The grip firm as this caught your attention. His other cervo grabbing the data pad as he moved it behind him as he stared down at you. You turned to look at him with confused optics.

“Optimus I need that.”

”No..you don’t..I descided. You can join me. My personal assistant as that you are with me. How about that?” You chuckled. “We’ll get bored of each other. And besides I wish to help others. So why not out of the tower.”

He sighed and his other cervo once on your hip moved to hold your chin. “Please…I already lost my bestfriend…..I just want what I have left with me….Please?”

His optics were almost… sincere. You weren’t sure how to respond. You just looked down as he put the data pad down. Little did you know he had a grin on his dermas as he stared down at you. “Just come with me. I’m sure we can find a job for you sweetspark. Now be a good Conjunx and join me. Hm?”

His digit gently held your chin as he then kissed your cheek. You let out a small hum and looked at him. “Sure…why not sweetspark.” He chuckled

“Good Conjunx.” He takes your cervo and you both walk out of the room. As you made it to the meeting room.

———————————————————————————

There were other Cybertronians speaking amongst their self. Optimus walked forward as you stay close behind. As he made his way to his chair, you follow behind and notice some of the femmes and mechs look at you as you stand next to Optimus once e takes his seat.

”Alright. Let the meeting commence.” You stayed next to him with a few data pads in your arms for him. The others sitting down. You noticed one of the femmes making ‘eyes’ to Optimus. You had to remind yourself that Optimus is Loyal. Isn’t he?

Your spark implied a bit of pressure. Something he can feel through the bond. And out of no where. The bond from him sent a wave of annoyance and warmth. He moved his cervo back toawrds your gently holding the one that isnt holding all the data pads in your arm.

He kissed the back of your cervo, you noticed the femme looked annoyed and glared at you as he glanced at the femme with very dark eyes.

He did not like this femme making you sad.

You continue to just look at the statues of the former primes around you as he spoke during the meeting. Your cervo still in his larger one as it continues to hold yours. His digit gently rubbing the back of your cervo.

You’d keep a few of the data pads with one arm. As the meeting continues on, some of the mechs looked at you. You ignored them. But you could feel through the bond that Optimus was getting annoyed by the meeting still going on.

Eventually the meeting soon ends and as the bots left and you watched them exit the door.

You felt Optimus cervo gently pull you closer as he stayed in his seat. He took the data pads and set them on the table far from him.

He then sets you on the table in front of him even scooting closer as he spoke.

As he spoke he wrapped his arms around your waist as he looked up at you with hungry optics. Having his usual devious grin as he sets his chin on your chest as you looked down at him. You had a shy smile on your dermas.

“Now sweetspark. I believ with you as my assistant it can give a better chance for me and you to grow….closer as Conjunx. If you be a good Conjunx. I’ll be sure you’re always treated as a Queen.”

”Queen?” You chuckled

”Well you are the wife of the relationship my dear.” He kisses your chest and waist as his cervo gripped the side of your waist and pulled it a bit closer against his dermas and his other cervo rested on your thigh. That cervo then moved to your panel.

You chuckled as you cervo gently rubs the top as his held as the other rests against the table.

“Sweetspark if I’m the wife. Does that mean I will the soul carrier for a future sparkling?” He stops for a moment. His optics soft as he thought for a moment as his body moved up in his chair getting closer.

His chest against your waist as his chin rests on your chest.

”Yes….Our sparkling. My successor.” His dark optics look up at you. You almost felt fear. Something telling you to stop at the back of your head. He’d then gently pat your panel.

”Let me see that lovely spike of yours my love?”

”Optimus we really shouldn’t do this in here. We’re disrespecting the primes aren’t we?” He forcefully opened your panel. Showing your valve and then spike. You shivered at the cold air.

He starts to gently stroke your spike. Having a firm grip and squeezing rather tightly. Your legs slowly shaking as he licked at the tip. You were a bit smaller then him and not as thick. But you can stretch a valve pretty well.

Your hips almost thrusts forward a few times. He chuckled as he continued. Your cervo grabbing the one still stroking your spike. As your other cervo covers over your intake. Trying to hide your moans.

“O-Optimus please we shouldn’t-“

“I will please my Conjunx. Will you so rid me of that?” His helm leaned down to the tip and gently licked at the tip. This made it harder to not thrust forward as you stared down at him…

You couldn’t stop him for a good while……

….You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting there. But your cervos gripped his helm as he deep throated your spike in his intake. You came in his throat a couple times now. A few small moans escaping your dermas a few times. Your legs shaking as both of his cervos held firmly under your thighs.

Once you loaded for the third time. He finally pulled your spike from his intake even licking at the tip. Then licking his dermas as he stared up at you. “W-Why did you..-“

“The only good thing of use this spike will have is for me to pleasure you. And your valve is for you to pleasure more.” He gently rubbed the lips of your valve making you shudder. “Now then….be a good bot and sit on your Conjunx lap as the next meeting commences hm?”

He sat against his chair once more. Holding his cervo out to you to take it. You were hesitient at first as your cervo reached out for his. But when he noticed you were holding back he was quick to grab it and pull you onto his lap. His chuckle was deep as his cervos firmly grab your arm and upper thigh.

“You were so good for me.. Now how about we enjoy some time before lunch. I don’t have another meeting for a while my dear.”

He kisses you once more. You took a moment to return the kiss. You had a horrible feeling in your stomach…You told yourself it was hunger. He noticed. His hands gripping tightly to you as a sort of warning.

You both kissed for a moment longer and all that’s heard in the room was your kisses and moans. He’d then stop and stood up holding you and gently sets you down. “Now there’s a really nice restaurant I wish to take you to sweetspark.” You could only nod. As he walks with your cervo in his.

——————————————————————————

Once at the restaurant he was often stopped and asked mid sentence about himself and more now that he was the leader of the city. You only looked at the menu as many people continue to talk to him.

You noticed even as femmes and mechs flirt with him in front of you, he’d always shut them down rudely and glance at you as your looked down as you only feel nervousness.

He didn’t like feeling that through the bond. His side of the bond made you stop that and to be good. You sighed as told the waiter what you wanted. He then asked for the fans to be taken out so that he can eat.

After that the rest of the day went by before you knew it. He’d often pul you closer to him by your waist when walking around. In and out of the tower. You’d always notice femmes, mechs, and neutral bots either give you stink eye or admiration of lust or affections. You still don’t know how to feel about it.

He’d go around, with you with him as he makes speeches and promises. Even going to some charities. Although some of his actions seemed forced. This took all day and before you knew it. It was night.

Once at the tower and back in the meeting room after stopping by a few of the rooms to see what Goldbug and Elita were working you. You noticed they had a few dents in them. Something that made your body shiver as you felt Optimus larger cervo on your waist.

Keeping you close. Once you made your way to the meeting room he took his spot in the sweet. He seemed tired but willing based on how tired his optics appeared.

As he sat he rested the side of his helm on his fist as his other cervo rests on the arm of the chair.

You stand next to his chair as you looked over the updated data pads as he glanced at you. “Sweetspark. Why don’t you take the seat next to me. No one else took it in our meeting before.”

You’d slowly nodded and sat in the seat he told you. He’d then brings you closer by the chair and rests his cervo on your lap as his other cervo holds a data pad. As the others came in the one femme who made eyes at Optimus before glared at you. She then took as seat next to Ratchet. Who descided to sit next to you. You didn’t mind as much. As the meeting continue Optimus kept his cervo on your thigh. Gently squeezing it so often. God do you feel trapped. Ratchet would speak to most with Optimus as the others listened. You’d then notice he seemed annoyed. Even feeling it through the spark bond.

Once the meeting was over you watched as Optimus moved his cervo that once held a data pad go to his face as his digits held the bridge of his nose.

Your cervos moved from the table to the top of his still ontop of your thigh. You then noticed how late it was and stood up. Gently holding Optimus chin with your digits making him look at you.

He watched you as you leaned forward and kisses him gently. “Let’s go to bed sweetspark. You earned it.”

You said as you took his cervo and started walking to the other door to your shared room.. He was quick to stand up and walk with you. Liking the view of you taking a small lead. Not noticing how Moonracer was watching and waited by the door.

As you both made it to your room, you tried your best to not slap his cervo away when he set it on your aft.

You turned around to face him and he was quick to pick you up. Placing your legs around his waist as you wrapped his arms around his neck on your own. Your kiss was soon hungry and passionate as he made his wa the sofa and had you laid down. Having one leg on the couch as he kept kissing you. His panel against yours. Gently humping against it as he whispered between kisses and moans “I love you.”

That’s until you’re interrupted by a knock at the door. He groans and sat down between your legs. Rolling his optics. “It’s probably something important Optimus.”

You sat up as he only looked more pissed off. You then set your cervos on his chest as you looked up at him with a smile. Trying to calm him down. You’d then stand up to go answer until he stopped you.

“Just sit here and look beautiful sweetspark.” He said with a smile and gave you a small kiss.

As he walked to the door he had a huge frown on his face. But he didn’t let you see it.

Once he answered the door it was Moonracer. She instantly started flirting with him. Telling him how she’s been watching him. How she’ll be a loyal bitch and all that. Even a good Conjunx. You could only watch as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

He only watched her with an unamused expression. She’s then trying to pull him down closer to her as she tried to kiss him.

You stood from the couch as you made your way, about to speak that she needs the cut that out. Yes you were angry. You are his Conjunx after all.

But when you were about to speak, Optimus noticed you. And raised a cervo to stop you. Only turning his body a bit to look at you. She then looked at you.

”What are you doing here you Bi-“ Before she could finish. She’s then blasted on the side of the face.

Her head completely off as her body falls to the direction the same as when her head was shouted at.

You…were frozen…Even backing up.

”Ugh you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to fo that. Just to shoot her from across the table.” He groaned as he turned to you. You could only fall onto your aft as you looked at him with wide optics. “Oh come now sweetspark don’t be scared. The others can clean this up in the morning.”

He put his canon away and kicked the body out of his way.

He walked to you. Even as you backed up he still grabbed your cervos and pulled you against him. He had a large and….terrifying grin on his dermas as he stared down at you. “Let’s go lay down…” He pulled you closer. “Shall we?” His optics glowed.

———————————————————————————

You were sitting on the berth. Your back against the wall as you stared out the window. Optimus was laying on his back His helm on your lap as he looked up at you with a…..’smile’.

You only had an uncertain frown on your lips as you kept looking out the window. Seeing the city lights as many Bo’s still flying around late.

Your cervos gently holding the side of his helm as his cervos hold the side of your thighs. He was loving his spot. After was felt like almost an hour he sat up. You kept looking out the window.

He was on his knees. His cervos grabbing your arm on both sides and pulled you close onto his lap.

”You love me…Don’t you my dear?”

He stared down at you as his cervo held your chin to make you look at him. Your optics were narrowed and tired. You didn’t know how to feel. His optics….They were a mix of love….lust…and hate. He was so possessive and……a killer….

Your intake slowly opens and….aganist your better judgement…you know he can hurt you..and so..

”Optimus…I love you.”

His smile only grew. As he leaned down and connected his dermas with yours and closed his optics, the kiss passionate. You were quick to return the kiss. Your cervos resting on his chest. Closing your optics as you both stay together as so. For a little while longer….but dread rests in your spark…for a moment longer…..

Primus….what have you done?…

This one I have been working on for a good while. I hope you guys enjoyed this and can’t wait to see the comments after. As always a repost is appreciated and hope to see you all in the next post. Hope you all have a good rest of your day!

[diremoone]

tlc, baby | g. satoru

w — periods, mentions of severe cramps, concerned bf ‘toru who doesn’t like seeing his gf in pain, an author who wanted toji to win the poll but is gonna do all the boys anyway bc toji, and the fact that this is too short and crummy omg (don’t write while hungry haha), hopefully toji’s is longer and better :D

[ divider cred @/firefly-graphics ]

5:14 am

The wake up is sudden, abrupt and extremely painful. You know what’s going on, but the second you try and do something about it, you find yourself sinking to the floor beside the bed in misery.

You really don’t want to walk downstairs, that’s gonna be misery. But if you don’t get and remedy this soon, you fear it’s just going to become worse.

It also sucks because your boyfriend isn’t home. You’d really, really like him to be home. But he isn’t. He’s out looking for an elusive Special Grade curse that nearly took out Mei Mei a few weeks ago on behalf of the stupid elders.

You’d curse them more if you didn’t feel like shit.

You burrow your head into the mattress and focus. Gathering up a little bit of energy, you stand and make your way to the kitchen, only to end up sitting down by the cabinets. You groan, knees up close to your chest to try and relieve some of the pain. You’re tempted to bang your head into the cabinets a few times, but the rationality of not adding more pain to the mix won over.

You can barely think straight; one second there’s the thought of running a bath and the next it’s waves of pain. You think about what’s in the fridge, then you’re overwhelmed by the intense need to barf.

“Fuck,” you mutter.

And then a loud voice echoes through the large home from your bedroom.

“Baaaaaabbbeeee!”

You snicker at your boyfriend who teleported into the bedroom that doesn’t have you in it. You hide your laughter behind your hand until another wave of agony rolls over your uterus and up your spine.

Satoru eventually finds you in the kitchen (after looking in the bathroom and under the bed). His smile disappears the second he sees you, but you don’t take notice since your forehead is burrowed into the wood of the cabinet door. He frowns, not liking the expression on your face.

“Baby?”

Satoru crouches and lowers the black mask you’d gotten him for his birthday. His heavenly blue eyes flicker up and down with worry.

“Monthly,” you manage to get out, and he instantly knows what you mean. Your entire body shakes with a shudder, so much so that the giant man is easily lifting you onto his lap to cuddle, his back now the one that presses against the wall of the kitchen.

Satoru is a heater, nothing short of the furnace that you’ve been in need of. One large, hot hand is pressed against your back, the other tucked against your lower abdomen in just the right spot. And the relief you feel makes you literally dizzy.

Your massive boyfriend however, is even more concerned than ever. The amount of stress he’d felt release from your body was nothing short of insane to him. You’d always relax and let go of all your stress in his hold, yes, but the amount of tension to how limp you were in his big arms was borderline upsetting.

You’ve never been this tense, this stressed. How long had you been like this before he was home?

“I’ll be okay,” you speak to him breathlessly. “I just need something for the pain and something to eat.”

Satoru lists off some things in the pantry and fridge, all of which makes your stomach turn and just burrow your head into his shoulder more. It isn’t until he gets to the sweeter side of the food you do have does the nausea fade away.

He reluctantly pulls away and grabs a familiar looking container on top of the fridge with a mischievous smile, one of his hands still holding yours as he stretches his massive 6’3 body across the kitchen to nab the period painkillers you need.

You don’t see him shove them and a small water bottle in his pocket, but you see him wrap his giant hand around the white container right before he fucking lifts you up off of the counter with one fucking arm and carries you back to bed.

But you don’t complain. You’re way too lethargic and fatigued. And why would you anyway?

He places you back on your side of the bed and gently plops the white container on your lap before kicking off his shoes and whips off his jacket so dramatically that you laugh. You scream as he jumps on the bed, almost on top of you. Satoru does nothing but laugh like a lunatic in return while he turns on the TV across from the bed.

Like magnets, you two end up snuggled deep into the big, thick pillows your boyfriend has propped up behind you in an instant. One of his arms is wrapped around you as you nestle into his side. But the fun doesn’t last. Your brows furrow as another wave of searing pain washes over you from your uterus. You groan and dip your nose into his collar, sharply inhaling and shakily exhaling.

“Here’s the magic pills, baby. Take ‘em.” Satoru’s voice is not the same, high-pitched excitable one he normally has. It’s the deep voice, the one he uses when he’s diving into his emotions. It’s the voice that he uses when he’s sharing his love with you in bed, or when he’s simply just loving you and taking care of you. Just like he is now. The tone of his voice is calming, relaxing, reassuring; all of the above makes your brain go fuzzy.

You pop the pill-shaped-relief in and chug it down with water and ‘toru wraps his arm around you, tugging you to him sweetly. He pops open the large white container, revealing all the chocolate chip cookies inside of it.

You laugh. “Oh my god, Satoru! This is what this is?”

“What else could it possibly be?” he jokes.

Not even a few minutes later though, the agony returns. The tearing feeling from your uterus is almost too much, lasting almost all the way through the Disney castle intro and the first couple minutes of Big Hero 6 with your head tucked into your boyfriend’s collar.

Satoru presses a kiss to your head and puts his hands in the same spots from earlier, with just as much tension leaving your body. He exhales silently.

“Go to sleep, baby,” he tells you. “It’s not worth it.”

“Want to…” you mumble, then let out a heavy sigh as heavy cramps roll over you again. “You’ve been gone a week.” You aim for a cookie and eat it in two bites.

Just like the cookies, you’re sweet — too sweet and too good for him, and he swears by it. He presses another kiss to the top of your head and replies, “Spend time with me by getting some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up. And I’ll take care of you tomorrow, too. Whatever my girl wants.”

“…. Sure?”

“Positive.”

“…..Mmmmm’kay.”

Satoru knows you’re still awake and working through the pain even half an hour later. You may not be watching the movie, but you’re still listening, giggling when Fred screams, “CAR!” to Wasabi as the villain tries to kill them.

It’s not too long after that though, he feels your cursed energy finally relax. Your body is clearly slack against his own. He chuckles at feeling a little bit of drool soak through his shirt. You’re in a deep sleep, thank goodness. And he hopes it stays that way. The medicine worked. He wasn’t sure if his eyes could take the sight of your cursed energy bearing that much sufferance much longer before cracking himself.

Satoru closes his own heavenly blue eyes to sleep. Yeah, he’ll definitely be here tomorrow. Taking care of his woman was going to be his first priority. Mission be damned.

”G’night sweets. See you in the morning.”

@vagabond-umlaut — @heresan — @dellalyra — @torusmochi — @nayrring — @out-of-reach22

[justmeinadaze]

Secret Underneath Part 3 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: A lot of this came from the rough week I had and desperately needing Daddy <3

Warnings: Warnings: Sugar Daddies Steve and Eddie/ Baby Fem Plus Size Reader, SMUT, toys (triple stimulation ;) ), dirty talk, nothing too rough just passionate. ANGST, reader has a bad day and needs help feeling better, mentions of her ex (brief mentions of him hurting her and being verbally abusive during their relationship; comments on her weight but its brief), boys mention their fathers as well as touching on their own ex.

Word Count: 5367

You were having a terrible fucking day. 

One of the other teachers you weren’t fond of danced all over your last nerve as if it was her mission. You forgot your lunch because you had rushed out of your apartment late due to not hearing your alarm because you tossed and turned all night. Your AC broke around midnight and by 2am you were covered in sweat. Every time you called your landlord, you were either placed on hold or the line disconnected.

All you wanted to do when you got home was curl up in bed but as soon as you walked through the door you were immediately met with blistering heat. 

Usually you could handle all this, all be it with a bit more snark than normal but you didn’t want to. All of your energy was drained and the only thing your mind could muster was the need to throw things against the wall like a toddler.

Daddy.

You debated on calling them. So far the guys had just given you money willingly after every meeting but you had yet to ask them for anything. Oddly with them, you didn’t want them to feel used. Maybe because of what they told you about previous relationships doing just that or maybe it was because you genuinely enjoyed their company. 

Finally giving in to your brain, you reached for your phone and dialed the number they give you. 

“Hey, honey.”, Steve practically sings as his voice floats through. “How was your day? I was just about to call you.”

“D-D-Daddy…”, you cry, unable to stop the tears as they flow. 

“What’s wrong, baby?”, he asked, his tone changing to that authoritative one that made you feel safe. You told him what happened and how your day had progressively got worse. You could hear him moving around on the other line before the sound of a ding from an elevator caught your attention. 

“Are y-you at work? Fuck, I’m so sorry—”

“No, hey, don’t be sorry. I was going to leave early anyway. I just got ahold of Eddie and he’s going to meet me at your place. Do you feel comfortable sending us your address?” His heart breaks as he listens to you cry harder, his protective, dominate side now fully in the driver’s seat. “Baby girl, everything’s ok. I promise we’re going to get everything taken care of.”

After texting him your address, you wait by the open window as you fan your face and as soon as you hear the knock you run to let them in. The rockstar doesn’t even hesitate as he takes you in his arms. 

“Jesus, sweetheart, you are covered in sweat. Are you okay?” Your gaze kept shifting between him and the mogul as his fingers rapidly moved against the screen on his phone. “Hey, look at me, Y/N. How are you feeling? You’re not dizzy or dehydrated right?”

“No, Daddy. I’m sorry if I bothered you both. I didn’t know who else to call and I’m so exhausted—”

“Baby. Baby, breathe. It’s ok. Don’t ever be afraid to call us or ask for help, alright?”

Someone new knocks on your door, startling you but not them as Steve heads that way. 

“Ed, why don’t you get a bath going for her? Nothing too hot though.”

“Yes, sir.”, he salutes making you smile. “Boy talkin’ to me like he’s my Daddy. Come on, pretty girl, let’s let Stevie do his thing.”

***

In the middle of your bath, the AC abruptly clicked on and you sighed in relief. By the time Eddie had you in a long, oversized shirt and brushing your hair, you were completely at ease. 

“Ok, honey, I hired some of the best people to come fix your unit so it won’t break again for a long while. I also called your landlord and threatened to sue him into oblivion…so your next couple of months are free.”, Steve grins as a he takes a seat on the edge of the bed in front of you. “At some point, doesn’t have to be now or even this month, I would like to talk with you about getting you a new place. You shouldn’t have to argue before someone fucking comes to fix your necessities. I mean YOU pay THEM—”

“Steven, you’re doing that thing again.”, the metalhead chuckles as he places the brush on your nightstand. 

“Fuck. I’m sorry, Y/N. I just hate the idea of you struggling. You deserve all the good things.”

“Speaking of good things, what would you like to eat, babe? Harrington here said you had forgotten your lunch today. We want to make sure you’re fed and full.”

Your head hung as you silently stared into the mattress. 

“Y/N, sweetie.”, Steve coos as he lifts your chin. “It’s ok that you called. You weren’t bothering us and we’re happy to help.”

“I know you said people in the past used you for your money. I don’t want you to think that’s all I want. I DO like you.”

Eddie lightly tugs your hair, tilting your head back so he could kiss your lips. 

“We like you to.”

“This apartment really isn’t that bad, you know.”

“Baby, I just gave you a bath in that closet you call a bathroom and that’s coming from a man who grew up in a trailer.”

“I didn’t know that.”

As you lean back into his bare chest, a pleasant sigh leaves his lips and you rest your forehead on his cheek. 

“I don’t talk about that side of my life. I mean of course people find out but…”

“We grew up in a small town so people gossip.”

“That’s how you two met? Growing up?”

Both men grow silent and you promptly hang your head before crawling out of Eddie’s embrace to head for the kitchen. They follow and as soon as they enter the room, you throw a menu onto the counter.

“I like their pizza and beer special. Don’t worry, Steve, we can get you like a Voss water or something.”, you grin as he tilts his head and you stick out your tongue. 

“I feel challenged. Why do you think I can’t keep up with you and rockstar here?”

“I think you just answered your own question.”, Eddie joked as he leaned over the counter to look over the food options with you. 

***

“Ok…3, 2, 1, GO!”

As soon as the metalhead gives the go ahead, you and Steve puncture the beer can with a knife and hastily chug back it’s contents. You were the first to finish, throwing your hands in the air as the other man trails behind. 

“Jesus, I’m rusty.”

“Yeah, sure pretty boy. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”, you sass as you lean forward to grab another slice of pizza. 

“So this is like your go to stress reliever? Sitting on the floor eating cheap pizza and beer while listening to crap music?”

“First off, rude. My music isn’t crap. Secondly, yeah. During the colder months I’ll put up Christmas lights and just lay here watching the snow fall. I love this city. It’s so beautiful.”

“Were you born here?”

“No, I’m from the south. I moved here because my boyfriend got a job and I wanted to be near him. Obviously, that didn’t end well.”, you chuckle as you take a sip of your drink.

“The asshole that hurt you?”, Eddie growls, his own protective nature slowly creeping in when you nod. “Was he always like that?”

“Verbally he could be a dick but he never got physical like that before. After we moved here it just got progressively worse. He’d say things under his breath or give me back handed compliments. Fucker could dish it out but never take it.

‘You know for how much weight you’ve gained, that dress actually looks pretty good on you.’

‘Aw, gee, thanks. You know, not many men can pull of jeans that tight but with a penis as small as yours I guess you don’t have to worry.’”

Both men laughed making you smile before it tapers off and they glance towards each other. 

“My father was a fucker to. He got in trouble with the law a lot and ended up in prison back home in Indiana. I grew up with my uncle in that trailer I mentioned.”

“What about your mom?”

Eddie sighed as he propped himself up on his elbow. 

“She died when I was really little. She, um, she was a good woman.”

Nodding, you decide not to pry further as you lean back against Steve’s stomach who was also on his side on his elbow.

“MY dad could verbally be a dick like your ex. He made comments like that all the time especially when I was in high school. I was surprised he let me take over his company. My mother isn’t a bad person, she just…I don’t know…her priorities are all out of whack.”

“I’m so sorry you guys experienced that. I actually get along with my parents and I hate being so far away from them.”

“Why didn’t you move back after you two broke up?”, the metalhead asked.

“My job. I love teaching here and I love those kids. They are all so smart and sassy, I love it.”, you giggle. 

Your eyes shift towards the window as you pleasantly exhale, closing your eyes as Steve’s fingers absently began playing with your hair. 

“When did you two decide to do this whole Daddy/Baby thing?”

“We’ve always enjoyed everything that comes along with being a Daddy and not just sexually. Perfect example, seeing your face light up when I told you I took care of everything with the apartment. I like seeing you happy.”

“I mean the same applies in bed to.”, Eddie chuckles. “We like seeing you unravel and tremble because of us. Why did you decide to do this?”

“I’ve always preferred more dominate men who could take control. I didn’t realize they would be so hard to find.”, you smile. “Maybe I was looking in the wrong age bracket. I needed two OLD MEN.”, you tease as the rockstar bites his lip across from you to stifle a laugh. “I’ve never cared about the money aspect that comes along with it.”

As they nod, you take both men in as they continue to relax. Because of the heat Eddie had removed his shirt so you could see how low his jeans really were as his blue boxers peaked out above the waistband. His hair was perfectly fluffed out, just barely resting on the top part of his smooth back. Any time you tried to run your fingers through it, he always made a joke about how tangled it was but you didn’t care especially when his eyes would close and he would hum lightly in pleasure when you did. 

Steve had showed up in his suit and you had yet to see him in anything else but at least in this moment he seemed relaxed. The first time you were with them, he appeared agitated which Eddie had explained it was because the mogul didn’t want you to feel used after your ordeal. The couple of times after, he constantly displayed an air of confidence which wasn’t abnormal with Daddies you met but in this moment when he put that wall down…he was adorable. Even his hair relaxed as the product began to fade, allowing it to move every which way. 

“You both are handsome.”

They had been in the middle of conversation you didn’t realize they were having until you blurted your statement making them pause as they turned to grin your way.

“Thank you.”, Eddie laughed, air hissing through his teeth. “I think it’s time to take away the booze, Stevie.”

“Pfft I’m not that drunk.”, you giggle. “Trust me, you’ll know when I am. I can be mean.” Both men chuckle and make mocking facial expressions as you playfully glare. “I know you don’t want to tell me what happened with your last Baby but… she’s a fucking idiot for not keeping you two around.”

You don’t see but their features falter for a moment before Steve finally collects himself. 

“You’re technically our first Baby.” Your eyes widen in shock and amusement as he nods before popping open another can of beer. “I know. Plot twist, huh?”

“Obviously we talked to other ones on that site but you were the only one that intrigued us and the first we’ve ever met with. Like Harrington said, we like the aspects of being a Daddy which includes taking care of the girl we care about. Individually and together…it just got exhausting after a while jumping from one date to the next trying to figure out their motives. At least this way…there’s some order to it. Another reason we like you is because you ARE up front.”

“So… your last girlfriend must have really hurt you then…if you decided to give up that scene to this.” They glance your way at your comment as a sad sounding sigh escapes you and you pull your knees under your chin. “I’m sorry.”

“Y/N, can we ask for one more favor?”, Steve asks in a serious tone that makes you face him.

“Yeah, Daddy, of course.”

“Have you googled us yet? Or did any kind of snooping?” Both men exhale in relief when you say no. “You wouldn’t lie to us right, baby girl?”

“No, I wouldn’t lie. I wanted to but you wanted privacy. I respect that. Plus, I’d rather you tell me things than for me to read it.”

“Good…good girl.” Eddie praises as you blush. “Can we keep it that way?”

“Yes, Daddy, I promise.”

“What’s going on over there, pretty girl? Why are you all shy all of the sudden?”, he teases eliciting a small squeal as you duck your head into your arms. 

“I’m just glad you two came over. I really needed this.”

“Yeah, honey? Is there anything else we can do for you?”

“Actually…”, you sing. “I got a new toy the other day. Would you like to see it?” After they nod, both men watch you rise to your feet and excitedly run towards your bedroom. When you return, you hastily open the box it came in and produce a pink vibrator for them to see. “I figured since I have two Daddies now I can use this if you both are away. This part is like the normal vibrators you see everywhere but this end here goes into my behind and this little part up here plays with my clit.”

“Have you tried it out yet?”

“No, Daddy.”, you answer Eddie’s question shaking your head. 

“Well, why don’t you, baby? Give it whirl and tell us how it feels.”, Steve instructs in a husky tone that has you biting your bottom lip. 

Tossing aside your comfy clothes, you sit naked before them as your eyes suddenly fleet between each man. 

“May I lean against one of you?” 

You can’t help but laugh when both men turn to each other and without any hesitation or prior conversation begin to play rock, paper, scissors. The metalhead wins, throwing his hands victoriously in the air as his friend rolls his eyes before lifting his body and crawling towards you to place himself behind you. Melting into his touch, you lean your head back onto his shoulder and kiss his cheek as he tilts down to kiss your neck. 

His beautiful large hands softly run up the back of your thighs and hooks them behind your knees making you giggle like a little kid as he pries your legs open. They watch with eager eyes as you squeeze a small amount of lube into your palm and your breath hitches slightly as you lather it between your cheeks. 

Eddie army crawls forward till he’s a few inches in front of your cunt, sighing as he lays his head on his forearm. 

“Fuck, you smell so good.”

Smirking, you glance down to make sure the toy is positioned properly before focusing as you insert all the pieces in their respective places. Your body tenses a bit as you lean your head back and close your eyes. 

“Everything ok, honey?”, Steve whispers.

“Y-Yeah. Fuck… just feels a bit…different.”

“For something about the size of a regular vibrator, it really blocks my view.”, the rockstar whines making you pout. “No, shit, hey. I didn’t mean that as a bad thing.” Quickly pushing up onto his palms, his fingers grip your chin, and tilt you so he can kiss your lips. “As long as I can see your face and hear those pretty sounds coming out of your mouth that’s all I care about.”

As he starts to pull away from you to lay back down, your free hand shoots out to grab his shoulder. 

“Wait…Can you…stay this close to me to. Please, Daddy.”

A shaky breath escapes Eddie at your needy tone before hastily collecting himself and clearing his throat as he tilts back to sit his heels.

“Yeah, baby, yeah. Of course, I can do that for you.”

After pressing the little button, the toy comes to life and your groan instantly hits their ears.

“Jesus.”

“How does it feel, pretty girl?”

You barely register Steve’s question as your body lights up with every kind of sensation, your mouth falling open as a soft uh falls through. 

“He asked you something, sweetheart.”

“F-Feels…feels…good.”

“Hey. Can you open your eyes and look at me?”, Eddie asks as the other man’s lips gently peck between your shoulder and neck. “Y/N, open your eyes.”

At his firmer tone you do what he commands, mewling loudly when you notice his hand had slid down his pants so he could ease the ache of his cock pressing almost painfully against the denim. 

“Good, good girl. Don’t…fuck, you’re so fucking sexy…don’t take them off me.”

Steve’s mouth grazed your ear and his low, husky whispers had you trembling against him. 

“There you go, baby girl. Make yourself cum. You deserve it after the long day you had. After you make yourself cum, your Daddies are going to take care of you, honey. We’ll fuck you till that little brain goes quiet. Fuck, I can hear how wet you are. Makes me so fucking hard.”

Your eyes rolled back as the coil snapped and you pushed back against him as you came. 

“No, hey, no, baby. Don’t run from it.”, Eddie lightly scolded as he grabbed the end of the toy and continued pumping inside of you at a rigorous pace. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Daddy, please.”, you begged as you pushed at his hand.

After delicately removing the toy, he tossed it out of the way, collecting you in his arms, and positioning you so you were straddling his waist. 

“You have to take off your pants.”, you breathily giggle when you feel the cold metal of the button on his jeans against your puffy lips. The rockstar’s eyelids flutter as he grunts in frustration and his arm grips your body to him as he uses his free hand to sloppily push them down his thighs. “Baby, you can let me go to take them off. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Damn right you’re not. You’re ours, princess. Fuck.” As you clung to his neck hovering over his lips, his eyes remained on your face as you slowly sunk down onto his cock. “Can you say that for me? Tell me who you belong to?”

“Mmm—I belong to Daddy. Oh my…so deep.”

“I know, baby, I know. There you go, that’s it. Just ride my dick just like that.”

His palms held the meat of your behind as he guided your movements while you bounced on top of him. Eddie’s gaze never faltered as he continued to take in every little movement that twitched along your features. Every time your bodies connected; your eyebrows scrunched in pleasure. When his length would roughly hit that sensitive spot inside you; your mouth fell open as you panted against his lips.

His favorite part was when either of you moved at a faster pace, you pulled him as close to you as you could. He loved feeling your needy hands pushing against his back to bring him to your chest or when your head fell against his shoulder as your fingers ran through his tangled mess of hair. 

If he could be this close to you all the time he would. 

“Fuck, Y/N.”, he practically growled as he lifted you up and placed you on your back underneath him. His lips roughly kissed yours as he rolled his lower half into your own. “You feel so fucking good. I need you to cum, pretty girl. Please.”

Your eyes opened at the word as his closed in focus, that little crease in his forehead as he thrust at a quicker pace had you swooning as you reached up to cup his cheek. A small smirk flickered across his mouth as he did the same; his thumb absently caressing your cheek. 

“Just like that, Daddy. I’m gonna cum. W-Will you cum with me?”

After nodding, the sound of skin hitting skin filled the room till it was replaced with your whimpers and his grunts as the coil snapped and you both came. 

Steve had been patiently waiting as he watched you both together, stroking his cock as your beautiful moans filled his ears. He desperately needed you but he knew how to wait; you’d be his soon enough. 

After removing all of his clothes, he tossed them to the side, wanting to feel every part of your skin against him this time. As Eddie backed away, the mogul beamed down at you as he took his place. 

“Are you ok, honey?”

He chuckled softly at your lopsided grin as you reached up for him to bring his lips to yours.

“Yeah, I’m ok. I want you.”

“I like hearing you say that. Can you say it again?” 

“I want you, Daddy. I need you.”

Falling onto his side next to you, he guided you to do the same with your chest against his and one of his arms under your head. 

“I just want to be really close to you, Y/N.”, he murmured as his large palm slid down your spine, over your ass, and along your thigh as he lifted it over his hip. Steve only released you long enough to guide his cock inside of you before placing it against your back near the base of your neck. “Fuck, baby, still so wet. Did Daddy make you feel good?”

“So good—mmm—I’ve never…”

“Never what? Tell me.”, he instructions as he continues doing little but deep thrusts into your core.

“No one’s ever fucked me like this…at this angle…”

He can’t help but lightly laugh making you sigh as you smile and lean your forehead onto his.

“We told you, baby girl. You’re with men now. We know how to take care of a beautiful woman like you.”

As he finds a steady, firm rhythm, you feel like you’re going to melt into a million tiny pieces as he stretched you open. Steve’s palm continued to roam your skin as his other remains firmly positioned behind your head, keeping your face as close to his as possible feeling your pussy clench every time he moans into your mouth. 

“That’s it—fuck—just hold on to me, Y/N. Don’t let go.”

“Never.”

You didn’t even realize you said it but they both heard as it fell from your lips. Feeling his pace falter, he pounds into you hard and fast trying to get you over the edge before he cums. Tears streak your face as you tremble against him and while your cunt quivers around his cock he warms your insides as he spills inside of you. 

“Fuck…fuck, fuck, fuck…”, Steve pants as he lifts your head and pushes back the hair sticking to your face. “Are you alright?”

A wide toothy smile greets him as you tilt back and giggle. 

“Yeah, baby. That was perfect.”

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you into a quick shower.”

“Nooooooo, Daddy.”, you whine making Eddie laugh as he jumps to his feet in only his boxers. 

“Come on, ya big baby.”

He starts to tug on your arm like he’ll drag you if he has to causing your smile to grow as you rise to your feet and let him lead you to your bathroom. After putting on his own boxers, Steve trailed behind taking in the things around him. 

Even though the majority of people had music on their phones, you had a small shelf filled with records and a record player. Along your walls were pictures of you with different people he assumed to be your family and friends. As he entered your bedroom, there was a bookshelf filled with reading material and he couldn’t help but smile when he notices a book hanging out that pertained to his business. 

You were trying to learn and understand; he appreciated that. 

What he didn’t like was when he placed the book back down a picture that was nestled in the back binding tumbled out. 

It was you with another man’s arm wrapped around your shoulders. 

Steve heard your laugh as you and his friend exited the bathroom and he held it up in your direction. 

“Where did you get that?”, you asked as your face fell.

“It fell out of this book here.”

Your eyes closed as you sighed, taking the book from his hand and placing it on your dresser. 

“I didn’t know it was in there.”, you mumbled. 

“So you could hide it?”, Eddie asked with a tone filled of accusation. “Who the fuck is this?”

You try to control your anger as you watch the rockstar snatch it from the mogul’s hand as the other man stares at you waiting for an answer. 

“My ex.”

“Yeah, that’s going to require some more explaining.”

“He let me borrow the book. Look, it’s not what you think! I asked a friend to ask him for it. I didn’t even think the asshole would put his fucking picture in there. I don’t even know why he’d do that.”

“To manipulate you and make you miss him.”, Steve growled. “Why are you taking anything from him at all?”

“Can we talk about this later, please? I’m so tired.”

“No, we can’t, Y/N. This is the second time this man is popping up suddenly and after what happened the first time I don’t like it.”

“What part? The part where I still went on a date with him or the part where he assaulted me?”

“Does it matter?!”, Eddie yelled. “Both were fucking awful. Nobody should be putting their hands on you and you are ours. We’ve made that very fucking clear!”

“And it’s crystal clear to me, Eddie. I don’t want to have anything to do with him!”, you scream, grabbing the image and tearing it up. “I try to avoid him as much I can but it’s hard! Fuck, this day sucks so much.”

“Why is it hard, Y/N?”

Folding your arms, you feel your heart start to break as you prepare for the worst. 

“Because we work together! That’s how we met. We went to school together back home and when he got a job here in New York I followed him. He suggested I apply to and to my surprise I was hired to!” You shrug as you wipe the tears that began to fall. “I thought we were going to be together forever. I was a fucking idiot.”

Taking a seat on your bed, your head hangs but after a few seconds the mattress dips on either side of you as Eddie pushes your hair behind your ear so he can see your face. 

“Usually, he just ignores me until he wants something…like last time… Since I started seeing you, now I ignore him and according to idle gossip it bothers him.”, you explain as you roll your eyes at the end. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?”, Steve inquires. 

“Why don’t you about your last girl?”, you snap. 

As he exhales in frustration, Eddie rises angerly off the bed and stomps into your living before coming back with his phone in his hand. Falling to his knees in front of you, he flashes you the screen but when you try to take it from him he pulls it back. 

“Read.”

“Gina Frost, daughter of 90s film star, suing guitarist and business tycoon for palimony.”

Your gaze shifts up to meet his with confusion. 

“H-How have I never…”

“Our lawyer managed to put a lock on our information and we don’t actually go into a court or anything. Not yet anyway…”, he sighs. 

“Can she…I mean…palimony is for a couple not a—”

“Yeah we know.”, Steve cuts you off a bit harshly. “Add that twist into the knife she stabbed into our backs.”

“I’m so sorry. I really am… I didn’t tell you about my ex because I felt stupid and I thought…maybe you wouldn’t want to be with me anymore if I told you. I swear, Steve, Eddie, I don’t have feelings for him. I like you two. I mean I know this is just a…I don’t know…a thing right now but I do enjoy talking to you. I feel safe with you and even though we can’t put a specific label on it I at least consider you my friends. You know…my old man friends that fuck me from time to time.”

They both laugh at your joke causing you to smile as you relish the sound. 

“We felt the same.”, Eddie responds first, guiding you against your pillows as he follows and climbs in beside you. “She took advantage of us and it took us forever to even catch on. We like you to...”

“Very much.”, Steve added as he curled up beside you as well. “We’re not that old, ya brat.”

You giggle as they pull you closer to their sides. 

“Are you safe? From him, I mean?”

“Yeah, he won’t do anything while we’re at work and if he did I would knock him out. That’s what happened last time. He yanked on my blouse and I turned around to punch him. He told people in the school he got in a bar fight defending a girl.”

“Jesus Christ. What a dick.”, the rockstar chuckles. 

“Thank you both for coming over. I really need this…needed you.”

That makes them softly smile as you slowly begin to drift off to sleep. Eddie’s eyes scan his friend’s demeanor as he absently plays with your hair. 

“Steve Harrington, whatever you’re thinking about doing, you can’t.”

“I don’t like him being in the same building with her. What if he hurts her again?”

“She said he won’t. Ah, ah.”, he tuts as the mogul starts to argue. “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t like it either but… that’s not part of our deal. We have to trust her. Unless she asks us to deal with him, we shouldn’t bringing that kind of attention our way.”

“Eddie, I don’t care about that kind of attention. Fuck Gina and fucking popular opinion.”, he growls. “What if…what if we can’t get to her or what if he does something worse… She said he changed after they moved. It just makes me nervous especially with us going out of town soon. I want to know she’s ok.”

“She’s a strong girl and if she needs anything she’ll tell us. We can’t control her like that. We aren’t those kind of men… we aren’t our dads.”

Steve glances his way, exhaling as he reaches over to pat his best friend’s arm. 

“You’re a good dude, Munson.”

“Aw.”, Eddie coos. “Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself, Harrington.”

#################

@aol19 @paradisepoisons  @paleidiot @dashingdeb16

@lilaclazer @joannamuns9n @thwippyparker @emotionaldreamer

@aactuaaltraash

[exhaslo]

Over-Time Ch16

(CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4,Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10, Ch11, Ch12, Ch13, Ch14, Ch15

Warning: MINORS DNI, SMUT, sexual thoughts, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing, fluff, touch starved, shower sex

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

You felt like you were in a movie.

Penthouses like this only existed there! Who would have thought that people truly lived in homes like this. For whatever reason, you thought Miguel would have a regular apartment like you.

You forgot that he was a CEO.

Miguel's bathroom felt nearly the size of your own little apartment. It was large and quiet fancy. Hell, he had a hot tub, a regular stone tub and a large, beautiful rainfall shower.

"Whoa, does your toilet speak too?" You asked, honestly curious at this point.

"Haha,"

Miguel burst into a small fit of laughter towards your cuteness. He took your hand and started to kiss you. Pressing you against the wall, Miguel reached his hand towards the shower, turning the water on with ease.

"Mhpm, Miguel~"

"Have another question?" Miguel asked as he took off his shirt.

You tried to say something, but Miguel captured your lips with another passionate kiss. His tongue exploring your mouth as his hands worked their magic. Your clothes slipping off with ease one after the other.

"W-What...mhm~ What d-desires...do you have?" You asked between kisses.

Miguel grunted softly as he took off the rest of your clothes. He took his off and pressed you against the shower wall...Water rolling down your skin.

"A family," Miguel groaned as he lifted you up, causing you to wrap your legs around his waist, "Kids of my own."

Your heart started to race as Miguel stared into your eyes. His harden dick rubbing against your dripping crotch. Your body grew hotter, feeling Miguel's growing sex drive. All it took was one sentence and you would be Miguel's all night.

"Hah, that's...sweet," You managed to say, wishing to have Miguel ravish your entire being, but not yet.

"After we deal with this mess, I'll make sure to fill you so much, (Y/N). I want you to have my babies," Miguel groaned lowly.

"I'd like that,"

Honestly, you couldn't think straight. The steam from the shower along with Miguel's kisses and grinding was fogging your brain. All you could focus on was his touch and how much you wanted him to fuck you.

Wrapping your arms around Miguel's neck, you whimpered and whined as he teased your aching hole. His dick just poking against it, begging for entrance.

Like a starved man, Miguel's kisses became rougher. His grip tighten as he lifted you slightly. Your body arched slightly as you felt Miguel begin to enter your body.

The pain soon subsided as you felt full. Miguel made his home inside you, making sure to fill you to the brim. You had gotten used to the size of Miguel's dick by now. Sure, it still made your brain fuzzy, but it felt so good.

Clenching against his dick, you whimpered a moan. Miguel understood as he started to move. Unsure if it was the shower or you, everything felt hotter. Miguel was able to thrust into you with ease, sending shivers up your spine.

Resting your head into his shoulder, you tried to hold onto Miguel, but you felt your body grow weak with every thrust. His tip hitting your cervix with each thrust into you. His dick stretching you out and making a home inside your cunt.

Miguel gripped your ass as he pumped into you. Every thrust getting rougher and quicker. Pressing you against the wall, Miguel started to grunt and moan in your ear as you kept squeezing his cock.

"Fuck, want you now, (Y/N)." Miguel hissed.

Your head was getting foggy and it was getting slightly hard to breathe from the steam. Feeling the pool of heat getting more intense, you cried out a loud moan as you cam from another thrust.

"Good girl,"

"M-Mig," You muttered.

Miguel grunted as he held your hips, giving you a few more pumps before unloading inside you. Inhaling deeply, you whined softly as you felt your womb filling up. Relaxing for just a moment, you gasped as Miguel bend you down, your ass towards him.

"Miiiig," You whined, your chest pressed against the wall.

"Just once more," Miguel whispered in your ear, sliding his dick inside you again, "My cute clumsy, (Y/N). So perfect, taking my dick so well."

"Mhm~"

"Taking such good care of me," Miguel kissed your shoulders as his hips slapped into yours, "For staying with me."

"Ah~ Miguel~" You cried out.

Your legs were shaking and your arms grew weak. The pleasure was overwhelming you. Biting your lower lip as Miguel kept kissing your back, you leaned forward as his hands played with your breasts.

His dick feeling like it went deeper with each balls deep thrust Miguel gave you. Your pussy clenching and sucking him in more, begging for more. You were at war with your own body, desperate for more pleasure.

"God, it's so tempting to make you mine now, (Y/N)." Miguel grunted, kissing your ear, "I promise to tell you everything."

--------

Miguel grunted softly as he looked down at your naked body. Water streaming down your sides as he kept thrusting into you. Your head resting against the shower wall as your moans grew sloppier and louder.

Chuckling softly, Miguel groaned as you cam once more against him. He held your body up before giving you a final few thrusts. His seed pouring into you once more.

"I love you, (Y/N)." Miguel whispered in your ear before giving you a gentle kiss.

Lifting you up gently, Miguel made sure to wash you thoroughly. Your peaceful expression making him feel better about confessing to you. To think he managed to have someone like you.

His precious little mouse.

Miguel was determined to protect you. Miguel was determined to make sure that you knew everything about him. Just the thought of you leaving him hurt. The thought of Dana hurting you boiled Miguel's rage.

"I won't let her ruin this."

Miguel grunted softly as he finished washing you, drying you and then putting on his pajamas on you. Once he put on his own pants, Miguel grabbed his phone and decided to make a few phone calls.

This was something worth fighting for.

You were worth fighting for.

Miguel was not going to let Dana win this. He was going to do everything in his power to make sure that the two of you stay together without worries.

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