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#something that's been on my mind for the past couple years
junosmindpalace · 10 hours
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“i hate you.”
you tell satoru gojo suddenly in a petulant tone that prompts him to look up from the stash of snacks in the white plastic bag sitting splawed on the desk in between the two of you.
you catch a glimpse of momentary surprise in the wideness of his eyes behind the glasses perched lowly on the bridge of his nose. but then they crinkle in amusement, and the corner of his mouth lifts. “well, aren't you sweet?”
from outside the open window of an empty classroom, dusk approaches the horizon. the lateness of the day summons a soothing chill through the air and into the classroom the two of you occupy, eating snacks satoru had bought in a clustered corner the two of you created by shoving desks and chairs together, clashing with the otherwise neat layout of the room.
“how can you eat all that junk and never gain weight?” you continue with a frown while slowly taking another piece of chocolate from the bag.
“don’t know,” he replies absentmindedly, rocking back and forth slightly as he hugs the backrest of his chair, taking another bite of the chocolate bar in his hand. “must be cause of my training.”
“i train, too, you know.”
“yeah, but i work harder.”
it wasn’t spoken in a tone meant to belittle your own abilities, but rather a somewhat cold fact: satoru does work harder. harder than most as of late, and harder than he's perhaps worked ever before.
to think that there was another level of intensity he could be capable of in his training despite the immense schooling he underwent from such a young age. the thought of it made the air around you sad, and your eyes lowered in guilt toward the snack in your hand, taking a meek bite as if to silence yourself from your ignorant comment.
satoru perked up at this sudden shift in demeanour, and stared at you through the dark panes of his glasses, the corners of his lips again curving up as he spoke. “oh, come on. that's nothing new.”
“what are you going to do now?” you ask him seemingly off topic, mind suddenly wandering to the future.
“stay here.” he tells you with little hesitation. “teach or something.”
“i didn’t think you were serious about that,” you replied somewhat incredulously.
your surprise, however, doesn’t seem to offend him.
“i still don’t know what i want to do.” you tell him honestly.
“you mean you aren’t staying?”
something in the tone of voice which he says it indicates a kind of disappointing surprise. it’s incredibly slight, yet you still pick up on it among the usual effort to feel indifferent. he probably was.
for the most part.
“i dont know,” you repeat with a frustrated sigh. “i had been thinking maybe it’d be best to get some kind of real job, y'know…”
“think nanami was saying the same.” satoru finishes the remainder of his chocolate bar with one final bite. he then groans, stretching his long limbs before he sags back down and rests his head on the top rail. “c’mon, let’s not talk about that stuff right now. we still have some time before we graduate.”
but you know it’s all that satoru thinks about: the future. his future, the future of the kids he’s convinced the school to take in, that have fallen into his care despite being a kid himself. well, not for long, anyway, you suppose.
it’s what motivates his training, alongside the horrific past.
the sun sets lower beneath the horizon, the orange in the sky growing deeper and deeper. you shake your head firmly as if to rid the creeping unpleasantness of bittersweet memories before they can completely overpower you. satoru's right. you may be third years, officially conclude your schooling in a couple months, but the time is still not yet.
you feel a light weight settle on top of one of your shoes. it's satoru's own black dress shoe, and when you peak up at him, he's already staring at you with mirth in his eyes and a teasing smile.
for a few seconds, the two of you you fight with your feet like elementary school kids, giggles turning into squeals and bold laughter the more intense your kicks and shoves got. but when you pushed back, breathless, you feel a nudge against the side of your shoe, more gentle, and a little more intimate, than just moments before, and it lingers against you ever so slightly.
when you look back toward satoru, among mirth in his eyes glints another something that you can't quite put your finger on, but it's intense, like his gaze often is, and delicate, and makes you shy. his smile is warm and lazy amidst the increasingly intense chill, and for another couple of moments, its only the two of you, sprawled out in your respective chairs, staring at each other in a way you almost want to call longingly.
the plastic bag breezes as the chill flutters its edges. before the heavy responsibilities of this cruel life can burden your hearts wholly, you savour the few final moments of hope and longing that your youth can afford, and nudge his shoe back.
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cuppajoel · 2 days
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Hey!
If you're reading this, you're probably wondering where this random Joel Miller blog came from- and I don't blame you.
My name is Rae, I'm 26, and I consume a lot of media. Over the past 9 months, I have been lurking in the shadows (on AO3), kindle in hand, reading and adoring the series' that many of you have created.
Over the past month or so, I have found myself dipping into Tumblr more and more and what I've found is some of the most intricate, thought-out, warm, and passionate pieces I've ever read. As someone who consumes a lot of words for a living, I have been truly astounded.
It's through you guys that I have read not only about my one true love, Joel Miller (in all incarnations), but also branched out to other characters in the P.P. fandom.
Notable mentions go to: Mando, Javier Peña, Agent Whiskey, General Acacius (jfc), Frankie bby, Dieter Bravo to name but a few...
Anyway, the point of this post is to say, thank you for the amazing work that the creators in this sphere are doing. I was in a reading slump for a good couple of years you have helped me find my love of reading again. <3
The sole purpose of my blog is to keep a record of what I'm reading (y'all I've been trying to keep tabs just by liking masterlists and it's getting outta hand lmao) and, if you're interested, give some recommendations of fics that I've been reading and loving.
I also wanted to give a quick shoutout to some of the accounts of the fics that I have been pining after for the past while. I do not claim to be the first one to come across these series'. I am well aware that it's not just me jumping on the bandwagon, but truly jumping on the Boeing 747 with the thousands of others that love your work.
Regardless, some special mentions go to:
@punkshort -Every joel miller fic you've written? I've read twice through. I'm so excited for the next chapter of Swept Away. @hellishjoel (brat tamer joel is beautiful) @fuckyeahdindjarin -You started my love affair with Dieter and Jack. I actually cannot explain the way that Joel in Seams made me blush @almostfoxglove - I think about See you at Three daily. I'm really excited to read your other series! @juletheghoul -Joel the menace is on my mind always. @covetyou - your ideas are so imaginative and such a breath of fresh air @tightjeansjavi - I started reading The Rite of Movement yesterday and its all i can think about @whocaresstillthelouvre Joel Miller fics with Taylor Swift titles? i can die happy tbh @chloeangelic (All fics on A03) @5oh5 From EDEN??? Thats all. (jk i love your other stuff too but from Eden is something else) @hier--soir every joel fic you've written is *Chefs kiss*
There are many, many more recommendations I could give and I am working my way through my over-saturated 'likes' so I can create a well organised 'recommendations' post.
I could honestly spend hours, picking your brains and gushing over the work that you guys have created but for now, I am going to reel myself in, say hi and thank you.
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tearsucry · 2 days
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— °˖ ⊹ ꒰ 🖋️ ꒱ someone else's familiar ; agatha harkness (agatha all along)
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#.                   being a familiar to anyone wasn't as easy in the long run as it started out, being in love with your enemies familiar proved to be another horrible challenge to face
content warning;          female-bodied reader, angst, time jump to the past, reader is rio's familiar, shapeshifter! reader, | 0.6k words
a/n.                                        don't ask please, i need this woman and i'm feeling sad over it so have this angsty thing... happy reading !!! ofc this is not how I see rio, but just for plot purposes :/
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the purple witch found it quite intriguing that the earth witch herself was willing to take up a familiar such as yourself for the first time ever. she dragged you around like a puppy in training (given you could have turned into one it would have been easier), picking you up from the dirt like a kid how she grabbed you by your shirt to lift you out of the mud and blood, stuffing her potions back into your hands.
"didn't i tell you to stay behind me?" agatha hears rio snarl at you, bending down to pick up the cloak that slipped from your shoulders and throwing it over your head, completely ignoring that it would obscure your vision.
"the salem seven has an urgent message for you, earth witch." you mumbled behind your hand as you wiped the mud around your mouth with the back of your palm, being careful without letting the potions in your arms fall once again. "I don't have time to stop and listen to a mouse wince about messages and do my job."
you say nothing back, just square your shoulders before continuing to follow rio's pace. agatha just watches on as the two of you disappear, her mind no longer occupied by the woman from all those years ago but you.
she went around, and asked locals in the village who you were, why were you so special to the earth witch, and why you were handled in such a way by her. none of the villagers were sure, not even the older witches had any idea why would a witch like her anchor a shapeshifter like you.
and she helps you up a little gentler than her when the two of you cross paths, offering her hand, and putting her other one on the middle of your back to make sure you don't fall over again as you try to gather yourself. she stares into your eyes for a second, with a quick jump of her gaze to your lips that have a couple of drops of blood on them, a cut close to one of the corners, and looks a little dry like you have been licking it out of anxiety.
agatha tries to say something and she surprises herself with how her voice chokes in her throat, that defeated look on your face moving something inside of her she didn't know was there. it surprises her how you didn't fight back, tried to attack her- assuming that rio had warned you about her, that's what you should have done.
"are you always this generous with people before stealing their magic?" your words were cruel, like barbed wire squeezing agatha's heart that was so fascinated with you despite not knowing your name. so rio did tell you about her and what she was up to, not that she had planned on doing something to you other than help at this moment, get you back to your 'handler' because she couldn't have you for herself.
the earth witch was your anchor to this world, you had given up your individual freedom to stay on this earth for some reason, and despite your hardship next to your master you seemed determined with your chosen path it seemed.
she didn't want to shake your beliefs, try her magic to sever the bond between you and rio.
for someone so selfish like her, it's all too out of character to care about a puppy like you.
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night-market-if · 2 days
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Hi, I finished book two, chapter six today and wanted to send some appreciation for what incredible storytelling you've accomplished with this project. I've sent a couple of anon compliments before after finishing book one I think, but I don't know how to express how much I adore this story so I hope you don't mind my gushing in your inbox again. You've managed to create a world that feels expansive and beautiful and often dark but also KIND. I feel a lot of hope when I read your writing, something I've been in desperate need of a couple of times over the past few years, and every time I restart the game I find delightful, messy, wonderful characters there to welcome me home for a little while. Gabriel and Hazel are my ROs of choice and absolute favourites, but I've found spending more time with Milo and Mal in this book great fun and I'm planning to go back to explore their poly route. Bella and my OCs haven't had much chemistry, but all of them desperately want to be friends with her and sit reading books round the same fireplace, pretending that they're not trying to guess each others secrets. The option to have her style the MC for the ball is one of my favourite moments of book one. I love exploring the night market and finding something new every time. I love the humanity of your dialogue and the chance to play someone who can be stubborn and stick up for myself while never being cruel. I look forward to exploring what comes next and send infinite gratitude for what you've given us so far. When I find a new job, being able to subscribe to your patreon is high on my list. Until then I will be enjoying the games every time I need a little more hope <3
Thank you!
You've hit the characterization of the MC on the nose. I want MC to be strong. I want them to get to this point through their journey where they are confident of their own actions and decisions. But that does not mean you have to be cruel to achieve such things. You can be strong and independent without stepping on others to get there. I'm also a big proponent of not letting your trauma control you so I try to put that into the MC as well.
And a Hazelmancer!!! She is such an undervalued RO and I just love her storyline to pieces. It is such a relatable journey (minus the dark magic) and her story unfolding this book as been one of my favorites to discover.
Thank you so much for your words. I am excited to start crafting this story again. I hope you enjoy what is to come.
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elisiafarias · 11 hours
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My honest opinion of the story expansion (all the good and the bad)
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Hi everyone, remember that this is just a personal opinion and it doesn't mean that everyone should have the same opinion.
-I love Cyrax's maturity and his redemption SHE IS SO CUTE 💕.
-One of the things I didn't like was that Cyrax and Kuai Liang were ex-couples, because in the story there was not a single dialogue that touched on that subject, only that they have known each other for years, it is not even mentioned that they were close, if it were not for the dialogues, the fact that Kuai Liang would have killed her if it were not for Harumi who stopped him. They had the whole story to be able to explain it and not even at the end we are given a hint of their past. It literally seems like a poorly made ship by Dominic for nothing more than doing it.
-Something I liked were the faces of my babies
-They changed the sex of Sektor and Cyrax just to ship them with the brothers, Honestly I felt that way, everything was very forced.
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-If there's one thing I can't forgive is that Tomas didn't have a single chapter of the story and it appeared only at the beginning, when there could be so many possibilities that he would have a chapter with the theme of the multiverse, or having accompanied Kuai Liang. Also, wasn't he holding back Bi Han and Sektor? They're wasting a character that has potential.
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-About Bihan and Sektor, the truth is that I have mixed feelings about this ship. As Kenshi says, they are made for each other. The bad thing about this is that both of them increase their ambition, deep down they cannot redeem themselves. I find it nice how Sektor loves Bihan despite everything that happened, since she is the only person who stayed by his side.
-Tanya and Rain were a really cute couple but they kill rain already ( one of the few couples that I like)
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-And this is something UNFORGIVABLE ABOUT BI HAN NOT HAVING BEEN REDEEMED, I mean, they had everything for him to have his redemption arc, however, when he became Noob Saibot they showed him as egocentric as never before and immature. You don't know how angry it made me. The only hope it gave me was that he stayed in the temple of the Elementis, but Sektor took him out, and Bi han asked to stay as he was. Even though his mind remained intact, I still think that something different remained in him.
-And not to mention the final battle against Havick, he was defeated by Bi Han and then Geras froze him, I felt like everything ended suddenly. I thought there was going to be a final battle,This expansion was very short
-Honestly, as always, I loved Liu Kang throughout the story, after everything Bi Han did to him, he still wanted to help him.
-In the end Bi has remained as before but being Noob Saibot
-The story was really weak and quite predictable.
Mi conclusion final;
Dominic had every opportunity to make a good story but he ruined it, he had good characters, good origins, he knew what the fans wanted but it seemed like he didn't care, you don't know how angry it makes me
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dullahandyke · 5 months
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and like sidenote if i can make a post with a target audience of zero. i feel like fhsy was to d20 what aa3 was to ace attorney but aa3 pulled it off better for reasons i cannot explain
#it is. the amatonormativity#^ guy who was REALLY pissed about the sandra lynn stuff#like yknow that bit in the first ep where brennan is like 'oh this drama is going down' and so like the pcs investigate it#probs bcos they think itll like kick off their new quest#and then it turns out to be like. petty romantic drama.#thats kind of a microcosm of the entire season for me#not to say there werent parts i liked (looks at the picture of baron i printed out and hung on my wall)#(and most of the leviathan stuff was brilliant and ayda is a role model for me)#but its all so tied up in the rest of that shit that i dont rlly wanna rewatch it the way ive rewatched fy 6+ times#likening this to aa3 bcos of the rlly noticeable uptick in romantic content in it compared to the rest of the trilogy#like prior to that all that rlly comes to mind is like. 2-3 and pearl's shipping shenanigans and larry existing#but in aa3 both mia and phoenix have past lovers who play big parts#theres a married couple theres tigre and viola (who sidenote i ENTIRELY missed as romantic my first playthru. i am dense)#there's the business with fawles#like it felt like romance played a large part in every case in aa3#where even when it came up in 1 + 2 it was usually ancillary (2-3 excepted but like. ppl regard that case as a fluke in most regards)#you COULD argue that maggey and adrian also inject some romantic presence in the story#but idk it just doesnt feel as central or prevalent as in aa3#like i saw a post abt adrian and celeste being cousins in the aa anime being not just the sailor moon 'best cousins' thing#but like. reinforcing the themes of familiar devotion as aa2's core. and that was rlly foundational to my understanding of the game#even tho its a change that comes from an adaptation#whereas you Couldnt make that change in aa3 without it changing A Lot of shit#where was i going with this. shrug.#the zelda and tracker relationship drama was entirely manufactured as punishing the pcs for not centering npcs#whose relationship issues were ancillary to the overarching plot they were focused on and which hadnt rlly been brought up beforehand#'why didnt gorgug call zelda :/' do u want zac to pause the kalina mystery to roleplay good relationship communication with the dm??#like its one thing looking at sy as a narrative but looking at it as a ttrpg campaign with limited time and a need to split character focus#i dont see what it did for the story besides give gorgug something to angst abt. didnt rlly feel like there was character growth or an arc#sigh. MANDATORY DISCLAIMER its been at least a year since i watched sy and longer before that since ive played aa3#but at the time my feelings were strong and have only calcified. romance as a theme in something not generally abt romance
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helianskies · 5 months
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ugly maths.
i hate maths, right. i don't usually like numbers, and if i do like numbers it's gotta be an 8 or a 48 and nothing else.
thing is, i've recently caught myself doing maths again. ugly maths. the kind of maths that, really, i've been trying to avoid as much as possible because, well, it's ugly!
you... wanna see?
okay, fine... but don't say i didn't warn you!
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ugly, see? look at all those numbers! not a 48 in sight!
huh? what's that? you don't see what i'm on about? oh... oh! hang on, lemme just—
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better? yes? no? no? okay, what if i—
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mmh, yes. ugly numbers. see it now? can you see why they're ugly?
here, i can make it worse.
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these numbers are ugly. the maths they make me do is ugly.
now i'll level with you: the worst ones by far are the yellow numbers. the maths they make me do it the ugliest.
why ugly?
because it makes me ugly.
those numbers turn me into not only a suddenly number-obsessed fool, but a fool who also cannot understand these numbers and what they mean and why i feel like they reflect on me and my ability.
87, 75.
the thoughts are as follows:
• the orange numbers are big, so why are you being ugly about the yellow ones? you should be happy with what you have. so many nice big numbers! not everyone receives that.
• is it that there are two different audiences for these two different fics? perhaps. they are quite different works, with different appeals, and different themes. maybe you are reading too much into it.
• why are you obsessing over numbers anyway? you don't like maths! you left maths behind when you were 16, put it down!
okay, okay, fine! i'll put the maths down. right here, in fact!:
that 87 was an 83 at the start of the year. the 6161 it is attached to was a 5453.
4, 708.
ugly maths.
the 75 is a nice number. in fact, compared to 87, it is beautiful, radiant, enchanting. at the start of the year, 75 was 48. wow. now that is one sexy number!
27.
mmmm.
6161, 1061.
5100.
87, 75.
12.
mmmm.
you know, my most favourite comment left recently on a fic of mine was 2 characters long: :(
it made me :)
well, actually, it made me >:) because it was left in response, presumably, to one of the key scenes in a new chapter which left the exact impression on someone that i hoped it would.
they must be the only one who reacted like that, though.
1.
have i mentioned that that 87 and 75 include author responses?
i won't try to do more maths, there. it might not end well for me. the maths is making me tired enough as it is, and i have an early start tomorrow.
oh! but, that being said, i have another set of ugly numbers to show you, so keep 87 and 75 in mind.
ready?
838, 245.
(want a hint? the green numbers!)
838, 87. 245, 75.
9.6, 3.3.
ugly maths. it's ugly again, see? i don't like it. i'm seeing numbers within numbers within numbers, and i can't seem to stop!
the numbers make me ask new questions:
• why is it not good enough?
• people seem to engage more with one fic over the other, so shouldn't you prioritise?
• is all this maths this really good for you?
no, it isn't.
i want to avoid ugly maths. ugly maths makes me want to tear my hair out. it makes me want to start from scratch. it makes me want to grab someone and scream. it makes me want to cry and press a button that has tempted me many times before when the numbers become too ugly to bear.
ugly maths turn me into an ugly person.
ugly maths make me obsessive, paranoid, anxious, regretful, vindictive, spiteful, alone.
i hate maths. i hate numbers, just like, it feels, the numbers hate me.
#helia rants#cw vent#i'm okay but i'm not#this has been playing on my mind over the last couple of weeks#it's aimed at the sky rather than anyone here#i know i'm not the best myself as commenting. i justify it to myself by affirming i don't read much. which i don't.#since the start of the year i have tried to comment on everything i have read#bearing in mind i may also dm someone rather than comment because i want to scream and ramble about their fic more personally#that being said. i know i'm not the only one who finds themselves doing ugly maths#and in turn starting to feel uglier too#i don't like looking at the numbers#i was doing well at the start of the year#but as i open my drafts and look to a new chapter and at the notes i wrote#i can't stop myself from opening the fic. from seeing where it's at. from seeing if it's changed. from checking my inbox to see if...#if only...#what it's meant is that i've come to a point where a fic i loved has become exactly that: a fic i loved. past tense#the other fic is still a fic i love. but i know deep down that that is tied to the numbers too#i hate that this is what i've become#because i have tiny fics. fics with 50 hits and maybe 1 comment. and i love them. i still love them#but when it comes to the big ones. the multi-chapters. the hefty fics. after a point all i see are numbers#and those numbers have come to determine both my happiness and fulfilment as a writer#and so i am ugly. i am sad. i am pathetic.#and i don't know how to stop.#helia's stuff#this was meant to save back into my drafts. i was editing tags. tumblr decided it should post. so... so be it.#also this is not an attention thing if anyone dares go 'oh but you're a good writer uwu' i might do something we'll all regret#this is also not a 'ffs comment on my fics will you 😒' hell no#it's just about me. and my issue. and my unhealthy relationship with these fucking numbers.#gotta get this shit out of my head somehow :)
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lycanthian · 9 months
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#i am so in love its unreal. never have i ever before felt this wealth of human emotions so concentrated over the past month and a week#genuinely mind boggling how talking to logan more and more and then dating him has literally made me feel likr a new man.#not that im different or that i absolutely need him to function in my day to day life#but its the richness that being in love brought to my life that was unexpected#i had a thing with another online friend like 4 yrs ago and it never felt like much admittedly. i almost gave up dating when he broke it off#bc i thought there was something to online dating that wasnt cutting it and i didnt stand a chance at meeting someone irl#and that entire time i knew logan at least a little bit but we didnt really begin talking often until like#6 months ago maybe? and just the more we talked the more we clicked ajd i liked him so much but i was so afraid that it wouldnt be mutual#and i was so afraid that even if he is in what feels like a pretty open polycule hed never ask me out or anything#and then he did and my world felt like it exploded into a cacophony of colors and sounds and feelings and emotions#like something had been unlocked in me that hadnt been touched in years. my ability to love.#and with that came some of the most upsetting spiraling intense depressive states of my life. but it was okay. it still is okay.#its only been a bit over a month but it feels like so much more than that bc i feel like everything is so much more vivid now#i also think im beginning to take a very particular fondness to someone else in the cule but im so not stating who or expanding upon it#he also makes me really happy but i dont think im ready to take that step yet. even if it would be a dream come true.#i love what i have now and i dont want to complicate it yet.#a extremely loving and charming boyfriend and a couple of other close friends who happen to also be dating him is good. its awesome#i just. i dont know. i dont know how logan would feel abt it. i dont know abt how other guy would feel abt it.#sometimes im not even sure how i would feel abt it#aughghhhhhhhh. yeah. human emotion. love for my boyfriend who is beautiful and loving and charming and funny and talented. ueh#i dont think he reads these rambles. sometimes i hope he does. sometimes i hope he doesnt. i love him so much#i dont want to worry him with my shit constantly but it would also be nice to worry him with it occasionally#logan if you see this i love you more than words could ever describe. im so happy that ur in my life and that you chose me to be in ur own#gamey rambles#💜
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non-un-topo · 1 year
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At the crossroads between wondering if it's worth it to basically completely rewrite all my WIPs or just take a break from writing for the rest of the summer
#i noticed every summer i get progressively worse lol#like not in terms of writing but in terms of everything else goin on in my head#i mean if anyone is craving some dark and depressing shit i've got bits and pieces here#it's like i'm writing for an audience even in my own mind. can't finish anything because it's __ __ __ etc and my niche is too niche.#did my last fic really burn me out that much?? i mean it was basically 30 thousand words and there was a LOT packed into it#maybe i should finally respond to comments and i'll feel better.#something's been going on with me for the past couple months (maybe longer) and i'm just annoyed ALL the time#feel like i want to give up everything and stop talking to everyone. ((it could be my out of whack hormones mind))#so if i haven't been as active and haven't drawn or written much that's why. i'm pulling away and curling in like an atrophied limb.#my brain is just permanently in school mode. i can feel it gearing up for the oncoming year that's going to be super intense.#like would it even matter if i post any more work before september? idk why i can never seem to chill or take a break for even a minute.#i still have drawing projects i want to finish at least! taking me literally all summer because of surprise health problems.#partner was consoling me about how i feel for writing '''weird''' stuff with almost no focus on romance#saying that SOMEbody has to write what i write so that should keep me going. i just tell myself that it could be worse -#- i could be primarily a femslash writer. they are the real heroes and they get no respect.#idk why i'm getting so angsty#i think i might be romance/sex repulsed atm. not in real life at all but in fandom. i'm bored of it. and i'm bored of conversations about i#i'm sure i'll change my mind in what two weeks or so.#maybe i'll try to write something original#i have things in my ask box i should respond to. like asks about my writing. i just haven't been feeling well#so i haven't had the right brain to respond :( but i see the asks and i'm grateful <3#anyway peace and love
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gojonanami · 9 months
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❝ 𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐄𝐌𝐎 𝐁𝐎𝐘! ❞
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❝ COME ON, FUCK ME, EMO BOY!! ❞
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✧ pairing: emo boy! choso kamo x f!reader ✧ summary: saw this boy at the mall last week. got the kind of look to make me freak. wanna fuck in the back of the hot topic? ✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, emo boy! choso, sex toys (vibrators, clit sucker), multiple orgasms, semi-exhibitionism, public sex (sex in the back of hot topic, sex in a changing room), fingering (f! receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), big dick choso (but honey, that dick was 11 inches), also mahito + yuji make appearances, art by @/SS_utr3n. ✧ wc: 5.3K
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It had been a while since you had stepped into a Hot Topic (a while meaning three days or three years, take your pick). But this had been the third time this week you had been to this specific Hot Topic, and now you were sure the manager of the place had your badly taken picture and description scrawled in some notebook as a potential shoplifter. 
But it wasn’t the merchandise you were looking to pick up. 
It was him. 
You saw him when you were browsing the clearance rack, knelt down, evaluating whether you needed another blind box item that will inevitably not contain the character you were looking for (but on the plus side, it was on sale?), when you heard a deep voice speak. 
“Excuse me,” you glance up as you spot him — and you swear your breath gets stuck somewhere between your windpipe and your lungs, because you don’t breathe while this man kneels down next to you to place more items on clearance. Spiky black locks tied up messily on either side, fringe bangs falling in front of his face as he bent down, a tattoo across the bridge of his nose and was that — dark purple eyeshadow around his eyes — and his eyes — god, his eyes were gorgeous, a deep dark brown — and you swore, was that a hint of purple in his irises? 
He was everything that your teen self had wanted — the same guys whose profiles you had looked at growing up and thought were so hot. You caught a glance at the My Chemical Romance t-shirt as he stood, in black jeans, as he catches you staring, “Can I help you find something?” His tone was casual, but he was curious — probably curious why you were staring at him with wide-eyed saucers. 
“No, no, sorry, I—” no, don’t tell the hot Hot topic worker that he is hot — first of all its confusing, second of all— “I just wanted to say, I like your t-shirt,” 
Fuck. out of all the things to say — I like your style, I like your fit, I like your hair — you had to pick the most generic ass comment. 
He only nods, but you catch the barest upward twitch of the corner of his lip, “thanks,” 
And that’s all it took — you now needed to see him smile. 
Over the next few days innocently shopping at Hot Topic, you find out his name is Choso from one of the other workers, Mahito, calling his name. His hair is usually in those buns, but one of the days his hair was down, and you heard him complain that his hair ties had snapped. 
And his hair looked so good down, his long inky locks fell past his shoulders, but this was your chance to talk to him — “i have some extra hair ties, if you want them,” you offer him a few hair ties, “I overheard you talking with the other worker, I hope you don’t mind,” 
And he shakes his head, his lips quirked in that almost smile that makes your heart squeeze. 
Fuck. 
“Not at all, thank you,’ and his fingers brush yours as he takes the hair ties, and you turn to leave, but his voice stops you, “what was your name? I didn’t catch it last time,” 
You tell him, smiling, “Your name is Choso, right? I saw it on your nametag,” and he’s biting his lip, tilting his head in question, as you flush, cheeks burning, “I’ve noticed you a couple times when I’ve come in— not in a weird way, I just—” 
“I’ve noticed you too,” and finally he’s smiling — and you know he’s got you, you know you’re fucked. 
And you do get fucked — in the back of Hot Topic during his break. 
It had been a few weeks of you two talking and flirting, until finally, during his break he’s got you snuck into the back to show you the merchandise they haven’t put out yet. And you scoff when you come across a bullet vibrator, “you guys sell these?” 
He shrugs, “They started to in the last few years, not a lot. They don’t want the parents to become too outraged, but just enough,” And you snort, turning the bullet over in your fingers curiously, “have you never used one before?” 
And your cheeks burn, as you bite your lip, “No I never have,” and the next question stumbles out as a joke, “why? Wanna help me learn?” And you want to bite your tongue, but you’re too busy with the foot in your mouth to do so, and before you can apologize he speaks. 
“I would,” 
And your eyes snap to his, and you realize how close he’s standing, his eyes not filled with humor but something else — lust? — and his lips curled in a small smile. 
Fuck. 
“You’re gonna have to be a little quieter, love,” he’s murmuring in your ear, pressing kisses to your neck, as you’re pressed between his firm chest and the metal storage rack, fingers laced as you held on, the vibration between your thighs the only thing ringing in your ears. 
But how can you be quiet? 
The bullet vibrator is pressed right against your clit, and his thick fingers are parting your folds, so close to sinking into you, his deep voice whispering in your ear, hot breath against your neck. 
And the coil in your stomach is only growing tighter and tighter, and your squeals only grow more and more insistent. His fingers sunk into your mouth, “suck,” he ordered, and your cunt twitches at the demand, as you do, sucking and licking messily on his fingers, “good girl,” 
And he clicks the button of the vibrator again, increasing the vibration, making your eyes widen, a gasp around his fingers, “so responsive,” he groans, as your legs grow weak, and he’s stepping forward to steady you, but it also settles his dick between your ass. 
He’s huge. 
The bulge presses into you, drawing a hiss from his lips as you lean back against it, “Trying to tease me, sweetheart?” And he’s pulling his fingers from his mouth, a string of spit connecting from his fingers to your lips, “don’t forget who’s teaching you,” and he sinks his spit soaked fingers into your needy cunt, making your back arch into his body, “so tight, despite the vibrator,” he hums.
“Choso, please—” and he starts to fuck his fingers in and out, the squelch of your cunt ringing in your ears mixing with the buzz of the vibrator — you’re already so close, “I'm—” 
“Cum for me,” he’s grunting, as his fingers reach even deeper inside you, dragging against your walls as he curls them, finding that one spot that has you seeing stars. And your moan as you cum is stifled against your own palm, as he only maxes out the vibration and fucks you through your orgasm, “one more for me, pretty, you can do it,” 
“No, no, Choso, please too much, can’t—” and he only presses sweet kisses to your neck, and how are you already close — you just had orgasmed, but the coil in your stomach is growing tighter by the second, and you’re nearly crying when you cum again, your slick dripping down his fingers and the vibrator as he eases it from you, and then splatters onto the dirty tile floor of the backroom of Hot Topic.
“Good girl,” he murmurs as he’s tilting your head back and around for a kiss. And you catch a glimpse of the glint of your release on his black painted nails as he presses the pads into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his digits and sucking them clean, “that’s it, clean up your mess f’me,” and his other hand is wiping the tears from your eyes, “so pretty when you cry — can’t wait to make you do it again.”
Your cunt twitches at the thought, your cum still dripping down your thighs, “Again?” and he’s pressing another sinful kiss to your lips, “You didn’t think this would be our only lesson, did you?” 
And it wasn’t — the next lesson was spent in the fitting rooms, during a particular dead early afternoon in the store — and he had you spread on the fitting room bench, your black jeans pulled down to your ankles, as his head found its way between your thighs. You could barely hold back your whimpers as he pressed all too hot kisses to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, burning already with his warm breath. It was too much. 
He was too much. 
“How’s that feel?” dark eyes flicking up to meet yours, half lidded with lust, as he watches your panting face, your head against the wall of the fitting room, “use your words, love,” 
“Too good, Cho-so,” the last syllable of his names escapes your lips in a gasp, as your cunt twitches as his lithe fingers tease you through the soaked material of your panties, “please, please, need you,” 
“What do you need?” and his fingers pull away, as his lips press a kiss to your puffy clit, pulling a whine from you, “what do you want me to do?” 
“Please, just—” and he’s tugging your panties aside, cool air rushing over your all too hot pussy, “please just touch me — with your fingers or mouth—” 
And his tongue drags over your messy cunt, and god, it feels too good — but a twinge makes you pause, and when you feel it draw a circle around your clit, you realize what it is — he has a tongue piercing. Your fingers thread their way in his black locks, resisting the urge to grab at his hair buns. 
He grunts, vibrations against your wet cunt, as you pull him impossibly closer to where you needed him most, his nose bumping against your clit, “you smell so good — how’s that possible?” and your eyes squeeze shut as his hands press your thighs further apart. 
That’s when you both hear the click of the entrance, and the door swinging shut — shit, the door — he forgot to lock it. Forgot when you had pulled him into a kiss right when he was ready to take a lunch break, all other thoughts had flown out of his brain once he let those doors swing shut and your lips had met his — well, left his brain and flooded southward. He also didn’t think a customer would be persistent enough to try the door and wander in when the doors were shut and the closed sign was hung up. 
“Choso, should we—” and the footsteps draw closer — and fuck — did you get wetter? And tighter — his moan is muffled against your walls, “Choso, stop, we—” 
“You don’t mean that,” he whispers, dark, half lidded eyes look up at you, your essence and his spit soaking his lips and dripping down his chin. And the footsteps are receding, the sounds of the shuffling and clinking of clothes hangers on racks in the distance, but all you can hear are the sounds of the wet, needy squelch of your cunt, “you aren’t being honest — but you are down here,” and his lips find your clit, sucking lightly, making your head jerk back, “want them to know how good I make you feel,” his lips leave your clit with a small pop, before murmuring against the soft skin of your thigh, “be quiet for me, baby,” and his tongue slips back into your cunt. 
He’s nearly slurping your juices up, his tongue tasting every inch of you, deliciously dragging against your twitching walls with his piercing, as your toes curl and your mouth parts in a muffled moan, one hand clamped over your mouth, and the other digging into his scalp. How could the person not hear you? How couldn’t they hear the wet squelch of your cunt as Choso fucked it with his tongue? How couldn’t they hear your badly swallowed moans and the sounds of your heart pounding out of your chest — and if they did, they certainly didn’t care enough to stop browsing through the fucking store. 
And you’re close, so fucking close, and you don’t hear the footsteps drawing close to the fitting rooms because your ears only can hear the wet suck of his mouth against your clit or the press of his tongue in and out of your folds, your thighs twitching under his grasp, fingers pressed into your flesh, “Choso, I’m so—” 
“Cum f’me, need to feel you cum around my tongue,” he sucks on your clit hard, teeth grazing the sensitive spot, and you cum, hard, your hand forsaking your lips to find purchase on his head, squirting all over his face as you did, soaking him along with the bench of the fitting room. And you can’t help the whimpers and moans that left your lips, as he lapped up your release without a care. 
And you slump against the wall of the fitting room, body still buzzing from your orgasm, as he finally pulls his tongue out, glancing up at you. Your chest heaves as you watch him lick your cum from his lips and chin, before wiping the rest away, and your eyes drift downward to the erection he was palming. And your fingers unconsciously reach for it, when your hear a door slam shut making your both jump. 
You cover your mouth — the customer, and Choso’s eyes meets yours, as the two of you break out in a laugh, “Fucking lock the door next time,” you sigh, covering your burning face with your hands, as Choso chuckles, lips curled in a smile.
“So there’s going to be a next time?” he tilts his head, and you flush. 
How could he go from eating you out like a desperate man without water to this innocent puppy? “Not if you don’t lock the door,” 
“It’s their fault for coming in when the doors were closed and there was a sign that said closed in big letters on the door,” and you shake your head, as he draws closer, “now, I have twenty minutes of lunch left — so where were we?” 
And you push him towards the changing room door, “Go lock the door first,” and he relents, chuckling. 
“Just for that, I’m going to look for the clit sucker I couldn’t find before.” 
~~~~
The two of you had fallen into a pattern. 
And you had become a regular at Hot Topic. You hung around him as he stocked the shelves, did inventory, price re-labeling, and even as he spoke to customers. You watched other customers speak to Choso, even flirt with him, but he never cracked a smile. Two girls were very persistent, but they deflated as he walked away after answering their questions, brushing past you, his hand brushing against your ass discreetly. Heat rushes to your cheeks, your head snapping to him as his lips curl when your eyes catch his gaze. But even so…
You still were just as clueless of where you stood with him as you were when this started. 
“You two have been pretty hot and heavy lately, huh?” you nearly jump out of your skin, as Mahito smiles knowingly at you, leaning against the counter with a shiteating grin. 
“What are you—” 
“Please, like we don’t know what goes on in the back during breaks?” he raises an eyebrow, as you bite your lip, “plus, never have I seen that gloomy guy smile, much less as much he does with you,” 
“Really?” your eyes find him again, as he crouches and lines up blind boxes on one of the shelves — but you can’t help the nagging question circling in the back of your mind — why hasn’t he asked you out yet? The two of you have hooked up, in and out of the store, but he still hadn’t asked you on a date. Even in the last few weeks, the two of you hadn’t even spent any real time together, except for your visits to the store -- he hasn't even taken you into the back. For all you know, you’re one of many people he’s bedding. Even if he doesn’t seem the type. 
“What? Trouble in paradise?” Mahito pulls you from your thoughts, head tilted and all too eager, “what’s wrong?” 
“No, it’s—“ he cuts you off with a look, and you relent with a slight pout, “he just hasn’t asked me out yet, I’m just wondering what he’s thinking—“ 
“Well, I definitely don’t think he’s seeing anyone else,” he hums, “but he does tend to go straight home a lot when you’re not around. Maybe something is going on at home?” And then he’s pushing you towards him, “no time like the present to find out,” 
“Mahito—“ 
“Choso! How about you and your favorite regular go for a quick walk and get us some drinks from the food court?” He grins, offering some money,  “be a doll, won’t you?” 
Choso sighs, “Fine,” and he brushes past you, taking the cash, before glancing back at you, “you coming?” 
You glance between the two of them, before following him out of the store. You both walk in relative silence, slipping past customers, as you reach the food court. Choso orders, paying with the cash Mahito gave, as he passes you one of the drinks, “Choso, can I ask you something?” 
His eyes slide to you, “Of course,” and god, his eyes stop your thoughts in their tracks — he’s so unfairly gorgeous, funny, sweet — you didn’t want to screw this up. You open your mouth to speak when you hear a voice. 
“Big bro, that you?” A rush of pink hair and energy is wrapped around Choso all of a sudden, “I didn’t think you got off until later,” it’s a teen boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen, his arm wrapped around Choso, and a varsity jacket on — this was Choso’s brother?
Choso cracked his rare smile, “I don’t get off until later, Yuji, but I came to grab a drink for Mahito,” and Yuji’s gaze slides to you. 
“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t see you there,” he smiles a thousand watt smile, “I’m Yuji Itadori, Choso’s brother,” and he’s glancing between you and his brother, before his mouth falls into an ‘o,’ “are you his girlfriend?” 
“Yuji—“ Choso starts, a hint of a blush across his cheeks, as you stifle a laugh, “I thought you said you were going to study at home with Fushiguro.” 
“I wanted to see you when your shift got off — I thought we could have dinner together,” Yuji pouts, and Choso cracks in an instant, his lips curling. 
This boy had his brother wrapped around his finger. 
“Ok, but don’t goof off. Make sure to study,” and Yuji nods. 
“Nice to meet you,” and he leans in to whisper, “treat my brother good, ok?” And you flush, before nodding, as Choso raises an eyebrow, out of earshot. 
“I will,” 
“Cho, tell Mahito to fuck off for me,” and he’s off again, gone as fast as he came.
“Sorry about that,” Choso sighs, still a smile on his lips as he watches his brother in the distance, claiming one of the food court tables for himself and his friend, as he sits down next to a black haired boy, assumedly Fushiguro, “didn’t know Yuji would be here,” 
“I didn’t know you had a brother,” and he bites his lip. 
“It’s relatively new — we’re half brothers, but he just came back into my life. He doesn’t really have any other biological family. His grandfather just passed, and he’s staying with a teacher whose decided to foster him,” the two of you begin to walk back to the store, his gaze fixed downwards at the tacky mall carpeting, “he’s been staying with me for the last few weeks, while his foster father went on a vacation to Malaysia,” 
And now the pieces were clicking into place, “And that’s why you’ve been going home a lot lately,” and his dark eyes find yours with a tilt of his head, “I mean, you just haven’t had a lot of time lately,” you can’t meet his gaze, “it must be a lot to have a teenager staying with you.” 
“Yeah, he eats everything in the house, and he’s staying in my living room, which leaves little in the way of privacy,” and you can still feel the prickle of his gaze on you, “but I could use a break,” and you finally look and see a soft expression on his face, the same insecurity you had reflected in his gaze. 
No time like the present, right?
“Well, should we maybe go on a date?” and his cheeks flush a pretty red, all the way to the tips of his ears, “we’ve done plenty of other things that a couple would do, like—” 
And he’s shaking his head, “I know, I know!” he’s the one who can’t meet your eyes now, chewing his lip, “I’d like that — I get off my shift tonight at eight, I told Yuji we’d hang out, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind postponing—” 
“We can always do it tomorrow, I don’t want to keep you from your brother,” and his lips curl into a smile, “he’s a good kid,” 
“He is,” and his fingers find yours again, “I can tell Mahito that I’ll lock up tonight, and maybe after I do, we could—” 
“Have another lesson?” 
And eight o’clock rolls around far too slow, but Choso definitely isn’t moving slow when it’s only the two of you. 
He’s pulling you into the back again, the door swinging shut behind the two of you, his fingers tight around your wrists as he’s pulling you into a bruising kiss, forcing your lips to part with a gasp, his tongue flicking against yours. The smooth surface of his piercing grazes against your tongue. 
And his fingers find the back of your neck, deepening the kiss impossibly, as his other hand slips down the curves of your body, pulling you against him, his clothed cock brushing against your aching cunt. 
Fuck. You had almost forgotten how big he was. 
And when you hear the zipper of his black jeans, you nearly melt against him, “Choso, please—” 
“I have to get you ready first, love,” his fingers find their way to the front of your jeans and undo the button, tugging the fabric down to your ankles. Cool air raises goosebumps across your skin, the pads of his fingers press against the wet patch of your panties, and he’s groaning, “but maybe I don’t,” 
“Fuck, so wet for me, aren’t you?” he murmurs, as he’s walking you backwards, into one of the racks, his fingers press into the soft flesh of your thighs. And two fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear, joining your jeans, pooling around your ankles, “nearly ready now, but I still have to loosen you up,” his fingers tease your outer lips, dripping with your release. 
One of his finger’s slips in with practiced ease, making your hips jolt against his hand, your fingers curling around the metal bars of the rack in front of you. His finger was so much thicker and longer than yours, his digit toyed with your walls, teasing and stretching until he drew a soft groan from your lips. He was the only one who could make you this desperate, his lips pressed against your neck, the heat from his body has your mind reeling with pleasure. 
“Mmm, Choso, more—" and he’s adding another finger inside your still all too tight entrance, making you whimper, as the intrusion is all too much after a few weeks of not having him inside you. 
“So greedy,” he murmurs, the wet squelch of your cunt ringing in your ears, “you’re practically sucking me in, but it’s still not enough for you, is it?” his tongue drags against the outer shell of your ear, his piercing against your skin, before his mouth envelops your earlobe and sucks. 
His fingers are fucking you open, your eyes screwed shut as the tips brush against that spot, heat flooding your body. And you don’t hear the shuffling of his other hand through a box, until you hear the sound of sucking, “Choso—“ and he’s pressing the sucker against your clit, your mouth falling open as pleasure rips up your spine, the sucking sensation with the lewd noises of your pussy being finger fucked is too much. 
You cum all over his hand, your hand clamping over your mouth so no one hears your moans — and your legs quake as you come down from your high, as he eases his fingers from you, “so pretty,” he murmurs, and you can feel his dark, lidded eyes on your drenched cunt, watching your sticky release cling to his fingers, purple painted nails glinting in the low light. 
And he’s leaning forward, kissing down your back, as he turns you around gently, so your back is pressed against the rack. You kick off your underwear and pants. You’re still panting, chest rising and falling as his fingers press to your chin, lifting it so you meet his gaze, as he sucks his fingers clean of your cum. Heat pools again, as his fingers undo the leather belt and he’s tugging his jeans and black boxers down to his knees, his erection springs out, slapping against his stomach. 
Your mouth runs dry. 
Fuck, he’s even bigger than you thought. 
Ten inches? No, maybe eleven. How was that even possible? That shit would break you — but fuck — your cunt twitches — you kind of want it to break you. 
“Like what you see, Princess?” you lick your lips in response, and in a trance, your fingers are reaching for him, curling around the base before you slowly start to pump him. You’re rewarded with a moan, a noise that goes straight to your cunt, as your fingers move faster, trying to find the right rhythm. Pre-cum leaks from the top, as you tease his tip, before stroking back up the length of it. 
And he’s a beautiful mess, his pale features flushed a gorgeous red, as he presses his hand against his mouth so his moans wouldn’t resonate. And his pre-cum drips all over your fingers, slipping down your wrist even, as you lean forward to lick it off your own skin, while you meet his gaze. 
His head lolls back, eyes screwed shut now, and your fingers drift to his sack, stroking and teasing while your lips find the tip, sucking lightly before your tongue drags over the length of his cock. And god, he’s going to blow his load now, if you keep doing that, from the way his hips rock against your touch. 
His fingers weave into your hair, nails digging into your scalp, “Baby, ngh, it’s too good—fuck—” he’s so close, twitching in your mouth as you suck him from tip to base, tracing his slit with the tip of your tongue, “shit, I can’t—” and you suck hard on his cock, massaging his balls, and he’s gone — he’s pumping his cock into your mouth as his cum spurts down your throat, as you swallow it all too greedily. You pull away with a pop, a string of cum and saliva connecting you to his dick still, before you wipe it away. 
He’s leaning against the rack, chest heaving as he watches you with lust blown out eyes, sweat sheen on his face, “Haa, baby, s’good f’me,” and somehow he’s still hard, as you rise to your feet, thighs pressed together, your eyes fixed on his cock, “you don’t have to—” 
And he’s still so sweet — his eyebrows knit together as he’s examining you with concern, but you’re only shaking your head, as you press a sweet kiss to his lips, “I need you, Choso, please,” and he’s nodding, lips meeting yours in a heady kiss that steals your breath, and he’s made you brace yourself against the rack, fingers curled around the cool metal. 
Your folds are exposed to him, slick and dripping, even wetter than before, “You liked sucking me off that much, love?” he murmurs, kissing your neck, before he’s dragging the tip of his cock against your needy cunt, “I’ll go slow,” he assures you, as you nod. 
He’s sinking into you inch by inch — and not even halfway, you already feel like you’re ready to burst, “So big, Choso, I—” and he’s murmuring quiet reassurances, as he’s parting your folds, the pain drawing a gasp from your lips, as he finally bottoms out. 
“S’good, baby, so tight,” he’s moaning, You’re taking deep breaths, pain ebbing with each second that passes. Choso pressing sweet kisses to your neck, his hands slipping under your shirt to tease your perked nipples, mixing pain with pleasure. Tears burn at your tear ducts, as you breathe shaky breaths, and finally pain ebbs away, and pleasure grows in its place.
“S’full, so big,” you pant, growing more needy by the second, he’s reaching places you’d only dreamt of — his leaking tip kissing your cervix, “move, p-please—ah!” 
And he does as you say, pulling ever so slowly out before pushing back in, grunting as he does as your tight cunt adjusts to his size and length — bullying your insides in a way no toy could ever compare to. You swear you can feel every inch, every curve, every vein as he rocks into you. 
“So pretty f’me,” he’s moaning, stifled by his bitten lip, as your walls only seem to pull him back deeper each time he pulls out,  “so perfect, take me so well,” he’s murmuring, as he teases your tits between his thumb and forefinger, “pretty cunt made just for me, isn’t that right, Princess?” 
“Yes, yes, Choso,” and his pace only grows faster, just as his groans grow louder. 
“No one else can fuck you like this, make you feel this good, can’t wait to feel you cummin’ around me,” he’s panting, his fingers tweaking your nipples, squeezing, as he fucks you deeper and deeper, his tip hitting your cervix deliciously again and again, “feels s’good, so wet and warm for me—” his hand comes down on your ass now, making you gasp, your cunt squeezing around him. 
Drool slips from your mouth, as you get closer and closer to cumming — the telltale flutter of your walls, “Choso, I’m coming, I can’t—” 
“Cum for me, let me fill you up,” and his fingers reach around to press a vibrator to your clit, and you’re cumming, falling apart on his cock, as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. The squelch of your cunt and the way you squeeze him has him falling apart, spurting and painting your walls. 
The two of you slump forward, your legs nearly buckling, as you cling to the rack, before he’s easing both of you back onto a bench in the stock room. Your quiet pants fill the silence of the room, as he eases himself out, groaning as you both watch your mixed releases leak out of your cunt. 
“I don’t think I can walk after that,” and he chuckles in your ear, pressing a kiss to your neck. 
“Don’t worry, I’ll carry you,” and you laugh, his favorite noise in the world, as you slowly turn, making him groan as your soaked pussy grinds against his dick. 
“So then you can lift me up when I drop it?” your lips are curled in that same smile that had him hypnotized from the moment he saw it, and he can only reply with a bruising kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth, as you sunk yourself onto his dick again. 
God. He needed to buy you tickets to Warped Tour. 
~~~
The next time you show up to Hot Topic, you weren’t showing up to buy any merchandise. 
“Hey emo boy!” you call out, making Choso turn with a smile on his lips — the one especially reserved for you. 
“Hi baby,” he murmurs, kissing you softly, his arm around your waist, “I’m almost done. I just have to punch out.” 
You lean in, words whispered against his ear, “And then you’re gonna come fuck me?” 
You were picking up your boyfriend. 
He smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist, before kissing you again, “You know I will.” 
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note: i couldn't find who made this incredible art that i used after searching and searching, so if anyone knows, please let me know so i can credit them above in the description. this fic has been a long time coming since that silly blurb i wrote after watching one too many thirst edits of choso. edit: i found the artist: its @/SS_utr3n on twt!!!
tag list: @uroldall, @jlovesfrogs, @existential54321, @staryukis, @samistars, @chosoilysm, @astroholic, @emii4evr, @rose1238, @butterflieskeepcominback, @divinely-yourz, @fishii28, @seresukuin, @misalsmistake, @xkaidaxxxx, @cappric, @famebydefinition, @theatergeek, @sousblogga, @averagelonelypotato, @timesnewreader, @chrvstxl, @darylthekidd, @merelydaydreaming, @notafan77, @naughtygobbo, @smiley-babe, @butterflieskeepcominback, @entirelytoooobsessed, @acenanxious
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tonycries · 6 months
Text
Great With Kids? (You Can Have Mine) - C.K.
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Synopsis. When your younger brother gets a new babysitter, only two questions linger on your mind: 1. How come your parents didn’t trust you in charge? 2. How dare the sexy babysitter be so perfect - it made you want some attention too.
Pairings. Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, babysitter! Choso, male masturbation, voyeurism (from reader), Choso with nipple piercings and eyeliner hngh, unprotected, 69, choking, overstim, oral (male + female receiving), creampie, dirty talk, friends-to-lovers, Choso is down BAD and always has been, mentioned younger brother, swearing. 
Word count. 9.0k
A/N. Gojo longfic next time because I miss my pretty blue-eyed princess.
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Your younger brother’s new babysitter was hot.
With a capital h. 
Scarily hot, in fact, that it made you wonder why the hell people stopped having babysitters past the age of 14.
Ah, Choso Kamo, the ever-elusive eldest son of the Itadori’s from next door. You still remember the first time you met him - well, mostly. 
The world was rocking gently at exactly 12:34AM after a night out with your old high school friends. And so were you, stumbling tipsily into your driveway, soaking up the warm summer air. 
Fumbling with the doorbell, you fully expected your parents to still be away on that extravagant couples’ cruise they’d won - one that probably cost more than your tuition.
Which also meant you expected the old lady from down the street to be babysitting tonight. Still wide awake and absolutely bursting at the seams to give you a detailed rundown about the neighborhood tea - who’s divorcing who, and her top suspects for who stole her prized garden gnome. 
What you certainly did not expect was for that door to swing open and to find yourself face-to-face with the most ridiculously attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on. Shirtless.
Dazed, your eyes involuntarily sweep his figure from head to toe - taking in every inch of those dark, sleep-mussed locks falling effortlessly around his slightly smudged eyeliner, all the way down to the chiseled- oh god, were those nipple piercings?
Alas, the universe isn’t on your side, and you don’t get to confirm, because suddenly the door slams right in your face, almost rattling off its hinges at the force. The sound echoes in your ears as you blink in disbelief at what the fuck that was. Was that real - was he real? 
You double check the address you’ve known for years - just in case - because, hell, if you were dreaming then this was a damn good one. Taking a deep breath, you try to focus on something that won’t make your head spin before reaching for the door again.
But before your finger could even graze the doorbell, it cracks open once more. The same mysterious man towered before you, this time - you note, with a tinge of disappointment - wearing a snug t-shirt that still doesn’t do much to hide that godly physique. 
“Not that m’complaining, but who’re you and why’re ya in my house?” you manage to slur out, voice betraying the shiver that runs down your spine at his intense gaze. He simply leans against the doorframe, arms crossed and expression unreadable. 
“Choso,” he drawls lightly, eyes never leaving your face. Shit, even his voice was hot. 
You nod slowly, mind racing as you blearily try to remember just where you’d heard that name before. Some family friend? Nah, you’d know him if that was the case. An actor? God, he sure had the looks. 
Mercifully sensing your struggle, he clears his throat, snapping you out of your drunken reverie. “Not surprised you haven’t seen me around, sweetheart, but my parents live next door.” he offers, tone laced with amusement and something else you can’t place. “M’babysitting your brother for tonight.”
You almost don’t hear the second part of his explanation, because it hits you like a ton of bricks - oh shit, this was Choso? Choso either-a-hallucination-or-a-vampire Kamo? 
In all your years of having the Itadoris as your neighbors, you’d only seen fleeting glimpses of their eldest son - a flash of black hair at the window, or a sculpted, tattooed arm waving off Yuji at the doorway. And, well, you didn’t know what exactly you’d anticipated. You just didn’t expect him to be so…hot. Or stand half-naked in front of you.
God, he made you more dizzy than the alcohol. 
“Damn,” you mutter under your breath, more to yourself than anything. Yet Choso still hears, quirking an eyebrow, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Everything alright there?” he hums, the hint of a tease in his tone. Smug bastard.
You nod your head, clutching onto the doorframe for support as you lean in closer. “Mhm, perfect.” Wait- was that a blush dusting his face? Damn, this dream just keeps getting better and better.
Liquid courage coursing through you, you bat your lashes, too tipsy to even attempt a wink, “Well, Choso, let me know if ya need any help babysitting, jus’ know I’m always down to-” 
And then - perhaps to save you from the embarrassment of an awful pickup line - that’s when the universe decides to remind you of exactly how many kamikaze shots you’ve downed. The world lurches beneath you. Your hands scramble for something - anything - solid.
Ah, falling down really does feel good, especially when the ground is so warm, and soft. Smelling faintly of vanilla, with a hint of sunshine. 
And then it’s all black. 
To match his eyes.
---
The smell of vanilla still lingers in your mind as you slowly pry your eyes open, squinting against the harsh morning sunlight streaming in through your window. Groaning, you feel as though you’ve been run over by a truck. Five of them, in fact. 
Trying to will away the pounding headache, you bury yourself deeper into the snug covers of…your bed…that you’ve been tucked into? 
Oh shit. Sitting up with a gasp, you hastily try to rub away the sleep from your pointedly makeup-less eyes, remnants of last night now flooding back to you with a surge of embarrassment. 
Choso. Shirtless. Babysitting. Shirtless. But most importantly - your awful display of drunken flirting. The man appears once in a blue moon and you hit on him? Perfect. Great. Wonderful. 
And just as you’re entertaining the idea of convincing your parents to move neighborhoods, you realize with a jolt that he must’ve been the one that carried you up here and took care of you. Even after all of that. 
With a sigh, you rub your temples, wincing as it throbs at the laughter carrying from downstairs - one of them so decidedly Choso. Deep voice ringing in your ears, you can almost feel the lingering traces of his strong arms holding you flush against his chest, or the warm hands gently wiping off your eye shadow.
And it seems Choso had a penchant for interrupting your barely-lucid thoughts, because the door creaks open, ripping through the heavy silence in your room. Heart in your throat, you startle as Choso carefully steps into your room, a soft smile playing on his lips.
“G’morning,” he says, voice so gentle that some small, strange part of you thinks you could listen to it forever. “Feeling any better?”
You offer him a sheepish grin, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks at the memory of your drunken antics. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks for... well, everything.”
Chuckling softly, his gaze softens as he steps closer, taking in your slightly-disheveled appearance. “It was the least I could do, sweetheart. Now, c’mon, your brother and I are making pancakes.” 
You fidget nervously under his gaze, suddenly feeling self-conscious even as he turns to leave the room at your silence. Say it, you idiot. Say it. 
“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, words tumbling out in a rush. “I didn’t mean to... y’know, act like a Victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles for the first time-” 
“It’s al-”
 “I swear I’ve seen ankles-”
A large hand cradling your cheek, his thick rings searingly cold against your chin as he tilts your chin up to meet his warm gaze - and those suspiciously red cheeks. “S’alright, sweetheart. I didn’t mind.” 
And, well, if this was his way of shutting you up then by God was it effective. Because you didn’t trust yourself to speak even as Choso gives you an easy smile. Even as he withdraws his hand, the air thick with something you were too hungover to overthink about. 
Not until he turns back to the door, flashing you a teasing smile, “Besides, it was kinda cute.”
And with that, Choso steps through the door with the audacity of someone that hadn’t uttered words that sent your mind reeling. 
As the creak of the door echoes behind him, Choso’s warm touch still sears into your skin. Something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach. Only one thought rings clear in your hazy, still-hungover mind - one that makes your cheeks flare: this was going to be a very interesting summer.
You just didn’t realize how interesting it would be. Not until two weeks, four days, and sixteen hours after you first met Choso. 
It starts out innocently enough, taking the early shift at your internship, volunteering to help with the chores - you find yourself subconsciously making excuses to be around him whenever he’s scheduled to babysit.
You’ve probably learned everything there is to know about the man by now - from the way he likes his eggs (sunny side up) to that time he accidentally dyed his brother’s hair neon pink while trying out a recipe for homemade hair dye. 
Likewise, Choso happens to be the only one who knows that you were the one that accidentally caused that flood in your dorm that required five floors and two plumbers to resolve. 
At this point, Choso’s at your house more often than not - where Choso is, there is you, and where you are, there is Choso. And your brother…and sometimes Yuji, but semantics.
“Semantics” are probably why you find yourself rushing home straight from your internship, ignoring every invitation for an after-work drink - to see your brother, of course. No other reason - definitely not because of the way Choso will inevitably be there too. Or because of the way his smile makes something strange coil in your stomach. Or-
Okay, maybe you speedwalked up your driveway faster than usual a little bit because of Choso. But as you’ve said - semantics.
Yet, sometimes you even think there’s a familiar flicker of something more in those dark eyes.
Nahhh. 
Stepping into the yard, the air thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and the deafening sounds of splashing, a smile tugs at your lips at the awfully wholesome view that greets you.
Your brother and Yuji are locked in a fierce battle, water guns being brandished like the most seasoned warriors.
And Choso - towering over everyone else - was at the epicenter of the chaos, his laughter booming over the commotion. Shirtless. Again. 
His bare, tattooed torso gleams in the light, muscles flexing with each movement as if sculpted by the gods themselves. Droplets of water glistening on his dark hair like diamonds in the fading light.
Traitorously, your cheeks burn as you step closer, desperately trying to rip your gaze from the milky abs peeking out and the tantalizing glint of metal winking so sinfully at you under the sun.
So he does have nipple piercings.
God, you have to get your mind out of the gutter.
As you approach, Choso’s grin widens, a playful sparkle dancing in his eyes. Without hesitation, he scoops up a large water balloon and takes aim, launching it with frightening accuracy in your direction.
The icy water hits you before the realization, and you squeal in surprise as the balloon connects right with your chest, seeping into your shirt. Glancing down with a startled laugh, you realize a moment too late that your once-pristine white shirt is now completely see-through. 
Heat rushes to your cheeks, but the damage has been done. Smug bastard, you think, glancing up at Choso, slightly red-faced yet wearing a sly grin as he surveys the aftermath of his well-aimed shot.
“Shoulda just told me if you wanted a peak, you lecher. This shirt was expensive, y’know.” you call out, mock-glaring at the man that stood so infuriatingly beautifully in front of you.
Choso throws his head back in a laugh that makes something tingle all the way down from your toes to your burning cheeks. “Maybe you shoulda just kept your guard up, sweetheart,” 
You scoff, “Maybe you should stop being a distraction then.”
His grin widens, reaching for another nearby water balloon, “S’not my fault you’re so easily distracted. No need to be a sore loser.”
“Oh, it’s on now.”
“Well, well, looks like we have a new contender in the water war,” Choso remarks mischievously to the kids, gesturing towards you. Yeah, really smug bastard.
Ah, what the hell. This shirt was on sale anyway.
---
Now, Choso knows you’re hot - always has.
Ever since that first day he moved in next door, when he stumbled upon you sunbathing in your backyard wearing that sinful bikini. And, well, after hours of moving boxes upon boxes of Yuji’s dumbbells, the mere sight of you was like the gates of heaven spread wide open for him. 
But, especially now - all drenched and disheveled. Your shirt sticking to your curves like a second skin in all the ways that should be illegal - and also makes some strange part of him slightly jealous. Beaming smile directed right at him - shit, this might as well just be the final nail on his coffin. Death by you.
Amidst the chaos and confusion, you're a force to be reckoned with. Choso can barely tear his eyes off of you, breathless and victorious in pure adrenaline-fueled bravado, declaring “Beg for mercy and I’ll let you off easy, Choso.”
“Kinky, but absolutely not, sweetheart.”
Clutching a particularly large water balloon, raising your hand high high high - hurtling it straight at him with an unapologetic smirk, “Then, better run for your life.”
Oh? Maybe Choso was a masochi- what was that- 
A flash of his favorite lacy pink, your poor buttons faltering at the sheer force of your throw. Choso doesn’t even feel the cold splash! square on his chest as he’s drenched icily from head to toe. Too transfixed.
Too focused on trying not to make it obvious he’s mentally calculating the chances of your shirt coming off altogether…
Eyes locked on the sliver of soft skin peeking out at him. Only registering you and the traitorous rush of heat flooding his cheeks - and his cock - as he averts his gaze, internally smacking himself for letting his thoughts wander into such dangerous territory. 
Both thanking and cursing the gods above, Choso realizes with a pang that he’s not just screwed, he’s absolutely twisted, tangled, and tied up in knots.
So utterly screwed, in fact, that he probably needs to make a quick run to the bathroom now.
Like, right now.
Shit. 
With a muttered excuse of a bathroom break, each step more urgent than the last, Choso can’t help but wonder if the water balloon incident was some sort of cosmic punishment for his wandering thoughts. Some divine intervention from his ancestors for being such a pussy around you all these years.
And as he slams that bathroom door closed, bunches his pants bunched underneath his heavy balls, and takes his throbbing cock in his hands, Choso thinks he might just see the gates of heaven - well, at least he’ll be able to give his ancestors a piece of his mind there.
With a groan, he leans against the closed door, eyes scrunching shut as he takes his swollen cock in his fist. Leaking hot precum and glistening in the dim bathroom light. He grips the base tightly, pulsing and achingly hard for you. 
Cold rings searing against his skin, Choso wastes no time - wanting to get this over with and join you again more than anything - starting up a hasty, desperate pace up and down his length that makes his knees buckle. Tighter on the base, just teasing his furiously flushed tip. Pink. Pink to match your bra.
With you so sinfully soaked through, wearing that goddamn lacy bra out there, Choso wasn’t as strong a man to possibly get you out of his mind. He can’t help but imagine your sultry smile, how it would look wrapped around his cock. 
Arm straining now, a shiver runs down his spine - all the way to his throbbing erection. “Shit.” he breathes, “J-jus’ like that, sweetheart.” 
Head only filled with you, and your lips and you-
He milks his base tighter - would you take him all in one go? Look up at him with those beautiful, teary eyes as you choke around his cock? 
One hand pulls in urgent, jerky little moves that have his hips bucking into his fist. The other reaches up muffle the fucked out moans leaving his swollen lips. God, it would take everything it had in him to not fuck up into your pretty lil’ mouth. Watch you cock-drunk and taking him so well. 
Or maybe…
Eyes rolling to the back of his head, Choso fights back a groan as he reaches a hand up to teasingly thumb under his slit. Delicate beads of precum dripping onto the cold tile with a deafening drip! drip! drip! Smearing at the way he rubs maddening little circles under that one spot, grazing his sensitive veins. 
Maybe you’d be a a fucking tease - run your tongue under his pulsing head so agonizingly slow. Knowing you, you’d probably pull away as soon as he bucks his hips into your mouth. Lips swollen and glossed prettily with his precum as you whisper, “Now now, baby. If you don’t act like a good boy then you won’t get to cum~”
“Sh-shit, hah-” Choso thinks he’s going insane, he can practically hear your hums as you kiss along his length, tongue darting out to trace his throbbing veins so obscenely. Flicking at his sensitive head. Eyes sparkling - ready to positively devour him. 
All for him. 
It’s too much. 
“Ah- Ngh, fuck.” he moans hoarsely, letting out a low, fucked-out little call of your name. “More. Need m-more, sweetheart.” 
Body shuddering violently, sweat dripping from his brow, Choso’s thighs quiver as he fucks his fist at an almost-animalistic pace. Chasing his release with reckless abandon. 
Choso’s heart pounds wildly in his chest as he tries - and fails - to maintain control. Raspy whines of your name escape through the crevices of his fingers, cracking ever-so-slightly in a way he knows he’d be embarrassed about if he was in a better state of mind. 
Giving up his futile attempt, long fingers snake down below to cradle his balls in a way he knows you’d do better. Tugging and pulling at a jerky rhythm that matches his hand. 
Some tiny, practical part of his brain hopes - prays - that you won’t call off the water fight early and come up to check on him. He knows he should hurry up, he knows he’s fucked if you ever found out. Shit, he should bake you apology cookies tomorrow.
But fuck are so you perfect for him. Voice so pretty and eyes so warm as you turn your gaze to his undeserving self. He’d kill to see if you still look at him that way when - if - he absolutely ruins you.
Would you be able to take all of him? Would you pout adorably until he shoves his dick down your throat? Gagging as he hits the back of your throat over and over - oh how Choso would love to mess up your mascara. He’d fucking tattoo your lipstick stains on his dick if he could. 
“Cum f’me, baby.” you’d mewl, and shit would he burn down this entire world to hear you call him that. “Mm, fill me up with your cum, wan’ taste you, baby-”
“Fuck,” he curses again, voice thick with need, and tight balls twitching so sensitively. “Fuck...fuck fuck fuck. M’gonna cum- shit- gonna cum, sweetheart.”
You - all see-through white shirts and lacy bras that drive him wild. Giggling with the audacity of someone who isn’t making him slowly lose his sanity. You with prettily lips painted white with his seed. Cum and saliva mixing into a lewd pool on the sterile tile as you suck the soul out of him. 
You. 
And then he’s cumming. 
A raw, drawled-out keen of your name and he’s spilling into his fist. Thick, hot spurts of cum that paint his palms white in a way he wishes he could do to you. And behind his closed eyes all he sees is you - you you you-
You, dragging out his orgasm so torturously, lips decorated with his seed, dribbling down to your lacy pink bra, gushing so lewdly down your ready throat. You with your eyes dazed, lips swollen and quirking up into a fucked-out smile as he does so well for you - cumming, all for you.
You, with your wide eyes and disgust on your face as you realize just what he’d been doing on this suspiciously long “bathroom break”.
Shit.
Body still twitching with the shockwaves of probably one of the Top 5 orgasms of his life, Choso all but collapses against the bathroom door, panting heavily, utterly spent. For a moment, he lies there, wondering if this is what heaven truly felt like.
But as the euphoria of his high ebbs away into nothing but mere tingles, a slight wave of nausea crashes over him. 
Sighing, Choso reaches for the paper towels, ready to clean up his mess. If only you were there to milk him dry then he wouldn’t have to-
God, he was definitely baking you apology cookies tomorrow. 
Now, when it started drizzling shortly after Choso left, you took it upon yourself to usher the kids back home and hand over his t-shirt personally like the good samaritan you are - out of the goodness of your heart, of course. 
Not for any reason whatsoever because you were hoping to get at least one more glimpse of those sinful nipple piercings up-close.
Okay, perhaps there was a slight ulterior motive involved. 
Either way, what you’d expected was for a flash of silver as you handed over his drenched t-shirt. Or maybe that familiar easy smile to warm you up from the icy water.
Literally anything but to find yourself frozen outside the bathroom door, cunt dripping, and ears ringing with the muffled echoes of his pornographic groans.
At first, completely mortified, your fight or flight instinct had kicked in as you realized just what those rhythmic, fucked-out little grunts meant. Only for you to choose neither option - staying rooted to your spot with the utterance of one, simple, word - your name.
Confusion whirls in your mind almost as much as the throbbing in your cunt, knees weakening. Heart thumping louder and louder in your ears at each whine of your name. Shivers running down your spine - all the way to your wet cunt as it really sets in that this was Choso. And he was fucking his fist in your bathroom. To you.
And you didn’t mind?
In fact, you find yourself leaning against the door, thighs squeezing together - mere inches away from where you imagined him slumped against it. Soft strands sticking to his forehead, cock hot and heavy, aching for release. Ragged breathing as if caught off guard by the intensity of his own pleasure. Broken whispers of your name leaving him over and over-
Really, you know you should give him your privacy. But if the white-hot ropes of pleasure running up your spine are anything to go by then, well, is it really that bad?
You have half the mind to just reach down down down - just a little release. Almost jealous of Choso-
Click!
You’re sure you could rival Usain Bolt with the way you ran down those stairs. Cheeks flaring, his damp t-shirt still clutched tightly in your hand. Mind racing with only one thought - this little fuck wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.
---
You can barely remember what transpired after your little discovery. You couldn’t decide who looked more dazed - you or Yuji, who was being practically dragged out that front door as Choso exited hastily with vague mentions of baking and cookies
And in the ringing silence that followed after that front door slammed, you couldn’t help the smirk that found itself onto your face. This was going to be fun.
But if there’s anything you’ve learned about Choso - it’s that even after twenty-something years on planet Earth, that man can not take a hint.
You somewhat had an inkling after the fifth time you decided to sunbathe in just a skimpy bikini at exactly when you knew he’d be watching. Well, you might not have gotten any reaction other than an extremely flushed face at the window, but at least you knew he’d have more very fun bathroom breaks.
Hell, one time you even bought ice lollies for the whole house - but especially Choso. Making sure those dark eyes followed every lick and trail of it dripping down your fingers under the scorching summer sun. Ultimately resulting in nothing more but a heavy gulp and for his ice lolly to hit the grass faster than it could even begin to melt. 
Ugh, should you get your brother to start another water fight? That went down well last time. 
It’s only after another failed attempt at trying to get him alone and a few hours of deliberating whether you should ship your interrupting brother off on a cruise too that you realize you have to get out the big guns.
“The big guns” being stealthily organizing a sleepover for your brother at the Itadoris, then inviting Choso over for a movie night. Simple, right? And, well, if anyone asked, you could just say the movie just so happened to be rated R. 
It wasn’t too hard to convince your brother that a sleepover with Yuji would be the best thing since sliced bread. The excitement in his voice palpable as he agreed, not suspecting a thing.
You just didn’t think it would be even easier to convince Choso to come over with a simple playful text of “Netflix no chill. Haha jk…unless?” But then again, when has Choso not surprised you?
And that night, as your brother eagerly headed off to Yuji’s place, you couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of guilt - but, hey, it was for a good cause, right? 
It’s a win-win either way - your brother gets to spend the night with a friend and you get to be here, so achingly close to Choso on that couch. So close that you could feel the heat radiating off of him, stealing glances at his sharp profile as the conversation flows easily about the movie playing on screen.
Shifting ever-so-slightly closer, electricity crackling between you two was palpable. You smile in anticipation, after all - you weren’t lying about the movie being rated R.
Now, Choso certainly didn’t come over to your house tonight expecting a wholesome rerun of Cars 2. However, he also wasn’t expecting the blockbuster action movie to suddenly unfold into something so steamy.
Goddamn lecherous directors and their goddamn pervy movies.
Eyes firmly trained on the ground, instead of the actress currently fake-moaning dramatically onscreen, Choso tries to ignore the subtle shift of your hips or the way the temperature in the room has currently increased by about 10 degrees. Or the way your moans would sound a million times prettier in his ears.
Alas, Choso was not a strong man, and he especially tries to will away the blood rushing straight to his cock right now - but how could he? You were such a vision of temptation, so close and warm and close to him on the couch.
This was absolute torture. 
“God, this is so painfully fake. Don’t you think so?” your voice rips through the deafening silence between you two, tone careful and balanced, startling Choso out of his little reverie.
His eyes flicker hastily to meet yours, and for a moment, he seems caught off guard by your sudden interruption. “Oh, yeah.” voice rough with a hint of nervousness. “I’ve seen better performances in middle school plays.”
You nod, the tension between you thickening as you lock eyes. “I mean, who even writes this stuff?” you continue, leaning in even closer to Choso, words positively dripping in sarcasm. “It’s like they’ve never actually had sex before.”
Choso lets out a shaky laugh, the sound strained as he shifts subtly in his seat - but not subtly enough. Because you catch the way he desperately tries to adjust his now-uncomfortably tight pants. Success. 
“Yeah, exactly,” he clears his throat, ripping his gaze away from yours.
You study him for a moment under the dim lighting, noting the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap, the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he struggles to control his breathing. He was nervous. Nervous and horny - exactly where you wanted him. 
A sudden rush of adrenaline courses through your veins, and you lean even closer to the man. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two - you relish in his strangled gasp as your tits press so enticingly against his arm. 
“Choso, just a thought.” you hum casually, lips mere inches from his ear. “Wanna recreate the scene better?”
His breath hitches at your words, muscles rippling so deliciously beneath your touch. “Do you know what you’re saying?” he rumbles, lowly. Eyes darkened and unreadable.
You smile, heart pounding against your chest as your lips brush against his earlobe. “Absolutely.”
It was like something snapped.
Because then he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him. Because goddammit you haven’t spent the last month sneaking glances at those pretty lips for nothing.
Movie completely forgotten, Choso is warm under your touch - all sculpted chest and urgent pulses as his lips kiss you dizzyingly. Groaning lowly as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.
He breathes you in with an infectious desperation that bleeds into his hands, wandering every inch of your skin - as if he didn’t have enough time. And he probably didn’t. Distantly, Choso thinks that no time in the world would be enough to absolutely fucking wreck you the way he wanted to.
Large, hurried hands grope your chest, squeezing so teasingly in a way that almost made you think he was trying to feel out what bra you were wearing - lacy pink. His favorite, of course.
You minx.
Urgently tugging the hem of your tight shirt over your arms, Choso tosses it god-knows-where. Mouth watering as he pulls away to greedily take in the heavenly view of your heaving chest - the same one he’s shamelessly fucked his fist to for too long.
God, you were perfect. With a soft, little oh! Choso leans down to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses on every bit of exposed skin he could reach. Nipping, and tugging lightly. Relishing in the way you whine for his lips again.
Threading a hand through his soft hair, you lightly pull him back to you. Breath fanning his face, lips ghosting over his own.
“Kiss me, you fool.”
And, well, Choso didn’t have to be asked twice. Molding his mouth against yours once more. Letting your lips part, you intertwine your tongue so sinfully with his. He tastes just like he looks - so intoxicatingly delicious.
With a breathy sigh, he lightly taps the curve of your ass. Hands lingering for far longer than necessary, kneading the flesh in a way that has your skin searing. 
You get the signal. Urgently, you loop your legs around his waist. “Choso- bed.” you whisper, muffled in-between kisses. “Now.”
Shivers run down your spine at the way he chuckles darkly, “Honestly, sweetheart. I don’t even hah- know if we’ll make it there.” Mumbling against your lips, “Would you kill me if I take you right here right now?”
“I’ll kill you if you don’t fucking do something.” you hiss, words dripping in desperation. Ah, but Choso, ever the merciful man, shuts up whatever other retort on the tip of your tongue with his own. Kissing you with almost-bruising intensity as he gets up from his seat. Strong arms securely wrapped underneath you, holding you flush against his warm skin.
Choso doesn’t pull away even once as he hastily makes the route to your room. And honestly, with the speed at which your back hits the soft mattress, bouncing at the sheer force at which you two fell on top, you wouldn’t even be surprised if he teleported there.
Now safely in the confines of your room, you all but rip off Choso’s snug t-shirt. Those familiar obscene nipple piercings winking at you under the dim lighting in greeting. 
“Always wanted to do this.” you murmur, surging forward as if on autopilot. Lips latching delicately onto the pretty pink nipples, tasting the cold metal on your tongue. 
“Oh- oh, fuck. A-always knew you had a thing hah- f’my piercings, sweetheart.” Choso breathes out, letting you have your fun. His favorite bra now at the foot of your bed. Fingers deftly sneaking under your skirt, blood rushes straight to his cock as he feels the positively soaked state of your panties - if you could even call them that. 
Sanity snapping, he immediately flings off your skirt. Throwing it somewhere across the room with no care or concern for where it ends up. All so he could look down at oh-
Oh god, if you had to describe Choso’s face as he takes in the sight before him - it would be absolutely losing his sanity. Your pussy dripping and clenching around nothing - all for him.
Strings of slick trail down your thighs as Choso hooks one, long finger under your slutty g-string, tugging impatiently.
You keen as the cold air hits your dripping cunt. Yet Choso’s eyes stay locked hungrily on the sticky fabric intertwined around his fingers “Guess you were expecting this, huh?” he murmurs, voice thick with desire. 
Scoffing, you buck your hips up for something - anything. “I’ve been wanting to fuck you since that first night I hit on you, y’know,” you admit, the heady air of your room melting away any reservations you had previously. 
And that seems to snap Choso out of his trance - eyes flickering over to you, darkened with something so carnal that it makes your cunt throb. “Oh yeah?” he mumbles, swiftly stuffing the g-string in his pocket before leaning down, hot breath hitting your ear. “Now, what was that pick-up line you were gonna say that night?” 
You gasp in embarrassment, heat flooding to your cheeks at the memory. “Wha- that doesn’t matter. I was drunk and-”
Smack!
The delicious sting on your ass hits you before the realization that Choso smacked you. He smacked you. Even later do you realize that you like it - slick beading so obscenely at your sloppy hole.
“What was it, sweetheart?”
You shudder at the tone that leaves no room for argument. The words tumbling out of you as Choso caresses soothingly over the handprint on your ass. “I- it’s stupid. I was gonna say that I’m down to sit on your face, baby.”
“Thought so,” he grins, pulling away from the dizzying proximity. Shifting - well, more like manhandling - you to flip positions. 
God, you could almost sink into his muscles as he lays back on your bed. Voice low and dangerous as he utters words that go straight to your dripping pussy, “Now, sit on m’face.”
And before you know it, you find yourself hastily straddling Choso’s pretty face. Hands snaking down his milky abs, lips kissing along his tattoos, catching purposefully on his sensitive nipples. 
Warm breath fanning your quivering cunt, he reaches up to cup your ass, nudging your needy core to his mouth. Kneading. Groping. 
Not stopping his ministrations even when your slick oozes slowly, torturously through your swollen folds and onto his awaiting tongue. A maddening drip! drip! drip! ringing in your ears above your thundering heartbeat.
Choso groans at the mouthwatering sight above him. You - spread so shamefully open for him and clenching around nothing. 
“Luckily for you, sweetheart, wanted you to sit on m’face ever since I saw you.” sweet juices flowing down his throat, words muffled against your throbbing lips. 
He barely even gets the words out before he’s surging forward. Licking a long, languid stripe up your heated folds. Again. And again. Faster at the pretty moans that spill from your lips.
Pushing his tongue in between your slit, past that first, tight ring of muscle. Bullying it deeper and deeper. Chin pressing against your throbbing clit, ravaged at each movement of his face. 
He caresses your warm walls, relishing so filthily at the way you clamp down on him in surprise. “Hngh- oh shit, baby. Ah-”
Your sweet moans are music in his ears and shit - you called him “baby”. It’s as if every wet dream he’s ever had has come to life as Choso dips in and out at a ruthless pace. Pulling out to tease your dripping entrance, pushing past mercilessly into your plushy walls. In and out in and out in and out-
His cock strains so painfully against his pants at the way your sloppy hole sucks his tongue in so obscenely - almost as if it hurts to part. Tongue fucking you the way he wishes he could with his cock right now.
“Oh- Hah- Choso! Fuck, baby. S’good.” your body arches into his absolutely depraved tongue. 
Desperate whines spilling incessantly from your mouth at the way he quirks his tongue up just right to graze that spot he knew would have you grinding down on him for more. “Ah! Right there - jus’ like that!”
As if he knew exactly how to drive you wild. Exactly how to break you. You almost don’t notice the mindless, shallow little thrusts of his hips into your open palm. Almost.
Eyes snapping open at the tremors, you reach a hand across his quivering thighs. All the way down towards the very obvious dark patch on his pants - right where his furiously hard tip was leaking thick, relentless precum that made your mouth water. 
Oh, how you’d kill to taste him - see if the rest of him is as intoxicating as his mouth is.
So you do. 
Choso was so pussy-drunk in-between your thighs that you think he barely notices the way you fumble with his belt. Shakily pulling those pants down just enough to glimpse the rock-hard erection that those boxers do nothing to hide. 
“Shit,” you whisper, voice strained with need. 
You always imagined Choso had a big cock - but this was ridiculous. Your pussy clenches in both nervousness and anticipation as you imagined the delicious stretch of him splitting you apart on it. Breaking you. 
And that’s probably when Choso notices - you clamping down so filthily on his tongue. 
“Oh?” he rasps, voice sending white-hot vibrations of pleasure right up your spine. “Didn’t think you were so desperate for my cock, sweetheart. Gon’ make me cum, hm?”
Now, you’ve always thought of yourself as a woman of action rather than empty words. Which is probably why you urgently pull down his boxers. Choso’s painfully hard erection springs out, hitting his lower abs. 
You take a moment to admire the long, heavy cock in your hands - a deliciously pretty pink on top, furiously leaking glistening precum. Saliva pooling in your mouth - you shove it as far down your throat as you possibly could. 
Oh, how many times in his life has Choso imagined this moment right here. In the shower, right before bed, right after waking up too. You’re really a dream come to life. 
A startled, strangled moan of your name leaves Choso’s kiss-bitten lips as you take him all in one go. Only to pull back and spit once- twice on his throbbing cock. The steady stream of spit cool - followed so maddeningly by the warm heat of your mouth once more. You start up a torturous, filthy pace bobbing your head up and down on his cock.
He strains his head to catch a glimpse - even just one - of your nose pressed against his pelvis. Breathing in the heady scent at the tufts of hair at the bottom, already wet with precum and spit. His dirty girl. 
Popping off with a lewd squelch, “Feels good, baby?”
“Feels perfect.”
But he wasn’t gonna fall far behind.
Immediately attaching his lips with yours once more, Choso dives nose-deep in your dripping cunt. Rolling your throbbing clit in between his lips. Flicking his tongue along the sensitive bud in a way that makes your head feel so light. He alternates between a slow, languid torture on your clit and fucking into you unforgivingly.
Your movements stutter as you teasingly lick at his sensitive slit. The salty flavor of his precum is probably your favorite taste now. That bastard.
Reaching down, you cup his heavy balls, massaging the tender flesh in harsh, hasty circles that match your mouth down his length - up and down up and down up and-
Muffled moans and lewd squelching filling the heated room. A rhythmic, sinful cadence that both of you were losing your sanity to. Movements more frantic now. Desperate to make the other cum. Desperate to be first.
Letting out soft, raw grunts, Choso fucks up his throbbing erection into your mouth. Your eyes water as his tip abuses the back of your throat. And it makes you wish you could see how messy he looked right now. All smudged eyeliner and slick-glossed lips. 
Gagging around him, a mixture of drool and precum drips sinfully down the corner of your mouth as you increase your pace, pooling messily on his lower abs. Sloppy - so sloppy.
So it only made sense that your orgasms were the same. 
Pleasure dizzyingly overwhelming, you gush around Choso’s mouth with a stifled squeal. Stars behind your eyes, vision blurring, mind blanking - the only things you register being the languid tongue lapping up at your sweet juices and the guttural groan of what sounds like your name as Choso shoots thick, hot spurts of his cum down your throat. 
Throat burning as the salty taste fills your senses, you milk his cock for more more more- his dick pulsing and stuttering in your mouth. Cum staining the fresh sheets below - a problem for later. 
Right now all you were focused on was riding out your high, grinding almost animalistically on Choso’s pretty face. 
You’ve barely removed yourself from him with a lewd pop! before Choso’s wrestling you back onto the mattress. Two fingers squishing your cheeks into an embarrassing pout, cold rings digging into your skin. The other hand snaking in between your thighs to play with your still-twitching cunt. 
“Didn’t say we were done yet, sweetheart.” he mutters. You weren’t done - no, far from it. Because fuck a refractory period - both of you were going to take all you could get.
And before you can think of anything else, Choso is leaning down, hand prying your lips apart for him into a brutal kiss. Teeth clashing, lips bruising. He forces his tongue down your throat. Tasting himself before you barely get a chance to taste him as well. 
“Hah- fuck-” you flinch as he swears into your bruised lips. “So fuckin’ sweet. You taste so good sweetheart.” The sheer debauchery and ache of his cock too much for him. 
Tasting him. Tasting you. Both a heady flavor that leaves you yearning for more. 
You bite down on his bottom lip in retaliation, relishing in the drawn-out groan that rumbles into your mouth at this. The kiss is feral. It’s animalistic. It leaves you feeling so fucking dirty. 
And you barely recognise the dazed, predatory glint in Choso’s eyes as he pulls away, his mind clearly miles away as he spits once. Twice. Three times on your face.
The wads of saliva and cum hit your face with a warm, wet jolt. You whine at the way it seeps into your skin, dripping down your cheeks so fucking obscenely. Pooling at the sheets below in a way that makes you feel sorry for whoever had a shift at the laundromat tomorrow.
“Now, what do we say, sweetheart?”
A fucked-out, delirious smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you realize - yeah, you wouldn’t have it any other way. “Thank you.”
Not even when Choso lets out a dark chuckle, throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders and manhandling you so that you’re splayed out so shamefully for him. Dripping cunt spread for his greedy gaze and clenching around nothing - aching for him. Begging for him.
Not even when he lines up his still-rock hard cock at your entrance, tip - angry and red - weeping so desperately as he nudges at your sloppy hole. Dragging his head along your folds collecting every bead of slick, just grazing your pulsing clit. Every muscle in your body trembling and anticipating what was to come.
You mewl at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, boderling insane, and exactly what you wanted right now. Splitting you apart on his throbbing cock. 
And especially not when he bottoms out inside you in one, harsh thrust. Burying himself inside your sloppy walls till his twitching balls smack against your ass. 
“Ah- hngh- oh fuckkk.” you keen in both pain and pleasure - broken, raw moans leaving you uncontrollably. But not for long, because suddenly Choso’s shoving two ringed fingers in your mouth, bullying their way inside till you’re gagging and moaning around them. 
Pressing right at that spot on the back of your tongue that makes your eyes tear up so prettily. Hey, if he couldn’t see you choking on his cock properly, the least he could do is see you choking on his fingers, right?
“Now now, wouldn’t want anyone else to hear, hm? Our brother’s would get worried.” he chuckles. Pure, dark amusement in his eyes as he takes in your swollen lips, the teartracks down your cheeks, how utterly beautiful and debauched you look underneath him. So much better than any lust-hazed imagination of his.
And yet, even when you’re being gagged and split apart on his cock, you find it in yourself to be mouthy. Words muffled around his thick fingers as you raise a brow. “There’s no one else home, though?.”
The corners of Choso’s lips lift into a devilish grin, “The neighbors, sweetheart.”
His tone is teasing, but there’s an undercurrent of seriousness that sends a chill down your spine. He’s just joking, right? Right?
“Wha-”
And probably because he was losing his patience - and partly to shut you up - Choso begins to move.
Pushing past the resistance, beginning to fuck into you in shallow, uncontrollable movements of his hips. Just little motions to get him off, groaning at how sinfully tight you were - the way you were sucking him up so good.
Next time, Choso thinks, reaching down a hand to draw tight, little circles on your poor, abused clit - next time he’ll fuck you right. Hours upon hours of teasing you so you don’t know what it feels like when you’re empty without him. 
But fuck does he think he could just about pass out right now.
There’s no going back now. Choso fucks you in a way that makes you feel so deliciously filthy. Plunging into your heated cunt with no restraint. Thrusts positively savage.
Pulling all the way back so that his leaking tip just barely kisses your sloppy entrance, slamming down down down, Choso fucks you at a merciless pace. Relishing the delicious stretch of your cunt as he thrusts into you with a desperation that surpasses the need for reason. 
“Sh-shit, sweetheart. God, s’tight. better than I ever could’ve imagined.” he moans breathlessly, brows furrowing, eyes rolling to the back of his head, the feeling of you milking the absolute soul out of him just too much.
“Oh, yeah- wanted this for so long-”
You yelp every time he rams his cock into you, the smacking of his toned pelvis against your thighs stinging almost as deliciously as his tip kissing your cervix. The obscene slapping of skin on skin makes your cheeks burn - both pairs as his heavy balls smack against your ass each time he shoves his throbbing cock into you.
And because you can’t leave him alone, of course, you find your nails digging harshly into his muscled shoulders. 
Pulling him impossibly closer. You want more. You need more. 
Maybe you say those words out loud - you don’t even know anymore, too delirious and cock-drunk from Choso and your last orgasm and Choso - because his eyes widen ever-so-slightly, mouth falling open into a small oh. Your cunt twitches at the surprised, fucked-out little laugh that leaves him,  “More? My sweetheart wants more?”
And, as you’ve come to learn with Choso - anything you want, you will get. 
“Then fucking- take it.” he grunts lowly, each word punctuated by a harsh thrust of into your plush walls that sends both of you spiraling deeper and deeper into insanity.
And God does he make you take it. Every inch of him fills you, stretching you beyond your limits - both your cunt and your senses as he leans down to bury his head into your neck, hips moving so sloppily, hiking your leg further up his shoulder. The change in angle making you see stars.
Your hips buck up in tandem with his, uncontrollable little ah! ah! ah! leaving you at each thrust. You whimper in pleasure and overstimulation into the heady room, “Yes. Yes yes yes- wan’ cum. Need more. Need you-”
“Fuck- Hngh-” is all he manages to gasp out, pleasure overwhelming his sensitive cock. Choso’s balls twitch almost painfully as they keep smacking your ass. Brain still not keeping up with his body because shit, this is all he’s wanted for years, the least he could do is make you cum before him.
“Sh-shit, sweetheart.” he rasps into your heated skin, “So close- m’ so close.”
You all but sob at his words, “M’too- hngh- ah, m’gonna cum, baby.”
You didn’t expect the petname to be what breaks him, but then again you didn’t think there was anything more left to break. Because Choso groans gutturally, cock twitching inside you “Shit, you’re driving m’crazy, y’know that?”
“I know.” you mewl, voice breaking at the way he increases his frenzied pace on your clit. You could barely even call them circles, just filthy little movements to get you closer and closer to the edge. So close. You writhe beneath him, desperate for release.
And what you didn’t expect was for Choso to connect his sweaty forehead with yours. You take a second to admire just how beautiful he is - all smudged eyeliner, tousled hair, your release still shining on the lower half of his face, and yours. All yours. You could probably stare at the sight forever.
Choso’s hot breath fans your face as he moans breathlessly against your lips, words slurring together as he ruts into you mindlessly, “Always did, y’know?”
“I know.”
“No- y’don’t hah- understand, I- for so long fuck- I-”
“Choso, just kiss me.”
And then you’re kissing him. And he’s kissing you like you’re the most precious thing on Earth. A slow, tender little dance that doesn’t match the way he rams his cock inside you. 
And then you’re cumming. Stars behind your eyes - or maybe those were tears - clamping down desperately on the harsh, jerky movements of his glistening cock that fuck you so sinfully like his little slut. 
White-hot pleasure runs down your spine, or maybe that was Choso - painting your insides the prettiest white you’ve ever seen. Shooting thick, hot ropes of his seed into your waiting pussy. A creamy ring forming around his base as he spills his cum into your snug cunt as he moans against your lips.
It’s messy. It’s sloppy. And as Choso fills you to the brim, hips still unforgiving, seed dribbling out of your dripping pussy at the way it was so overfilled - you think that it’s all you could ever want. 
As his cock twitches finally, exhaustedly - and you distantly wonder how the fuck it isn’t seizing up - Choso collapses onto you, thoroughly fucked-out. Finally pulling out with an obscene squelch, you hiss lowly at the pool of cum that forms beneath you. Gushing out of you sinfully. 
A weighty silence in the air as you both try to catch your breaths.
In the haze of your orgasm you realize that even after all that transpired, he still isn’t laying his full bodyweight on you.
Too afraid to break you.
To break whatever this tender little understanding in the air was.
And it makes some part of your heart clench so delightfully. Subconsciously, you thread a hand through his damp hair, breathing in that familiar smell of vanilla and sunshine - and the heady scent of something so Choso. It makes you intertwine your body so impossibly close with his, not knowing where one of you ends and the other starts.
“My parents are coming home tomorrow.” you start, casually. 
“Mhm. But I’ll still be around here, sweetheart.” Choso rumbles into the crook of your neck. Kissing soothingly over the marks he’d made in the heat of the moment - some carnal little part of him proud of the way you looked like you were fucking thrown to a pack of wolves. 
Words hiding a tense little fear beneath them as you probe further. Something prickly and scared rolling around in your stomach. “For babysitting?”
“Nope.”
Settling deeper into the covers, basking in the afterglow of him. You know you should get up and clean, but right now this was all you wanted. And maybe no other words were needed. 
“God, am I glad your parents aren’t home.” 
Except maybe those. 
You chuckle as you pull back to stare into those deep, dark eyes. Cheeks flaring at the tender little warmth in them much more than they had when he was fucking you so sinfully. A devious idea coming to mind - because now that you got a taste, you were absolutely hooked.
Choso Kamo was absolutely intoxicating.
“Well, we still have time so how about-”
A distant click!
“Honey, we’re home~!”
Shit.
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A/N. Fun fact this was originally supposed to be called Timeout! but it was giving too much me during beep test.
Plagiarism not authorized.
14K notes · View notes
sukunasweetheart · 4 days
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Sukuna, a middle aged man jaded by the harsh realities of his life. He steps outside for a smoke nearby a convenience store, completely bored out of his mind.
A lady is handing out flyers nearby, although nobody is bothering to look her way, including sukuna himself.
You approach the man who's getting irritated by the lighter that refuses to work in his hand.
"Hello there, sir. Would you be interested in taking up classes for arts and craft?" You offer the cute flyer up.
Sukuna scoffs. Is she serious?
"No thanks."
"Are you sure? You look like you could use a bit more colour in your life."
He's too exhausted at this point to get angry at a random woman on the street.
"...You're not too far off, i suppose," sukuna mutters, still trying to get the spark to stay on his lighter. "Even so, I'm not interested in the likes of arts and craft. Do i look like a child to you?"
You withdraw your offer of your flyer, and inspect him for a moment.
"Arts and craft can be enjoyed by anyone, regardless of age. But moving past that... you seem a bit down. If you'd like to confide in a stranger for a night, I'm happy to listen."
What a strange, persistent woman. Sukuna gives up on his lighter, and takes out the unlit cigarette in his mouth to think back for a moment. One thing does come to mind.
"I'm not feeling down. But i remembered something, now that i think about it..." he confesses, feeling weirdly compelled to tell you about it.
"Today is supposed to be my birthday."
Birthdays have never been special to him. Nobody celebrated his birth as a child, and in turn, he's never paid attention to the birthdays of others.
"Oh, happy birthday. Are you doing anything special for yourself today?"
"No. I've never cared for birthdays. And I'm getting too old for that anyway."
"Well, that won't do... Hold on for a second."
Puzzled, sukuna looks back at you but you've already gone inside the convenience store. Whatever you're up to now, couldn't possibly be more enticing than getting in a proper smoke right now. Sukuna begins to zone out.
He only snaps out of it when something mildly cold grazes past his cheek, leaving a ticklish and moist sensation on his skin as it disappears upon impact.
Bubbles. Bubbles are flying past him, and floating away into the sky.
For a moment, he gets mesmerised by the swirl of colours that are harboured in each one. Even just from the light of this dingy street, they fly up while holding a multitude of different colours inside them. Time seems to slow for a split second, and he doesn't understand why.
His gaze follows the trail to identify it's source. And unsurprisingly, it's you, standing behind him. You blow a couple more out, and then grin at him childishly. He finally looks at your face properly for the first time.
"Birthday bubbles. For the birthday man," you chuckle sheepishly, knowing that you probably look a bit silly right now. You put the bubble wand back into the small bottle of the soapy mixture, and screw it tightly.
"Here, you can have it. Next time you're feeling a bit antsy, why don't you try blowing some yourself? They're pretty, aren't they?"
You also hand him a different small item.
"And i also threw in a little something else, while i was at it."
He looks down, and sees that it's a new lighter. He slowly pulls his hand out of his pocket to take both of them from your hands.
"I hope you get to do something more special next year. Birthdays are supposed to be joyful, after all," you comment.
"Thanks for putting up with my nosiness. Farewell."
And then you leave him after a quick wave.
Sukuna stares wordlessly as you walk off, wondering what to name this ticklish feeling rising in the pit of his stomach.
The small bottle in his palm reminds him of a moment in his childhood. Kids in the park bragging about their bubble wands that were gifted to them. the laughs that resounded as they all ran off to catch the fragile spheres as they blew away in the wind. The tiny feelings of envy in his heart.
The item he tucks away into his pocket is the lighter. And when nobody is watching, he blows a couple more bubbles into the night sky.
-
Every time he passes by that convenience store, the thought of you comes to his mind. A flashback of your smile in the back of his mind. Every so often, he comes to this particular store. Despite having closer options, he comes to this specific one.
At times, sukuna regrets not taking one of the flyers that you were handing out. He wouldn't have had to mope around a convenience store in hopes of running into you again.
Today is a rainy day, and this calls for a hot piping cup of instant ramen. He doesn't usually enjoy convenience store food, but he wants a reason to stay around inside for a bit longer.
He needs to wait five minutes for the noodles to soften. In this time, he stares out the glass frame of the store, and watches the various rows of people walking past with their umbrellas opened.
There appears to be one anomaly in the crowd, however. Running without shelter from the rain, clutching her bag as if it contains something important in there. Sukuna realises that it's you.
Forgetting about his instant ramen, sukuna grabs his umbrella and dashes out the door.
You're mildly panicking about being stuck behind the red light at the zebra crossing without anything to save you from the rain, but the sensation of the droplets hitting your body come to a stop all too suddenly.
You look up, and there's a black umbrella sheltering you, big and strong looking. You spin around and recognise the stranger with pink hair and sharp eyes. Seemingly out of breath.
He signals to the light that has now turned green behind you, and ushers you forward to cross the road before you can say anything to him.
Now safely on the other side of the road, you begin to converse with him.
"It's you! Hello. Thank you for sheltering me. How have you been?"
"... So-so. Nothing's changed since the last time we met."
"I see. You look better than last time, though." You get the feeling that his eyes have a little more light in them.
Sukuna doesn't really get what you mean, but he moves on.
"What’s in your bag that's so important for you to be protecting it like that?" He asks, effectively changing the topic.
"Oh, this? I literally just bought some brand new origami paper... i can't risk getting them wet and unusable. The children would be disappointed."
"Origami, huh? How original."
"Hey! That's not all... there's a lot of options i offer them. They voted on origami this time."
"You got a lot of people signed up?"
"Not really... but I'm sure it'll start picking up soon. Slowly, one at a time."
You smile up at him hopefully.
"...is the offer still open?"
You cock your head to the side slightly, confused. Sukuna grits his teeth, feeling a little bashful about having to ask more specifically.
"You know. Lessons for grown adults."
"Oh! Of course, anytime! Would you like to come sign up today?"
"Do you offer one-on-one sessions too?"
"Yes, I do."
"Alright. Let’s go."
Sukuna can't fathom the words that are coming out of his own mouth. But fuck it, what's the worst that could happen? You've somehow intriged him, and he can't think of a better way to approach you.
You chatter his ears off along the way, and he nods along while his shoulder gets wet from the way he leans his umbrella closer to your side.
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rebelscums · 3 months
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Apricity (Qimir x Lover reader)
Ratings: Angst | Slight fluff | Mentions of nudity | He doesn’t realize what he has until it’s gone
Summary: Qimir chooses his padawan over you, going back on his promise and leaving you with one choice… To leave.
For the longest time, it has always been you and him. The two of you against the entire galaxy, searching for a place to belong. Long nights spent tangled up in sheets and days spent traveling the galaxy. It felt nice not to feel so lonely anymore, to belong to someone and have a purpose.
Until he wanted more.
“You want a pupil?” You sat up in bed, the cool air circling from the cave entrance caressing your skin.
He sat up as well, his hand circling around your waist as he pulled you closer to him, “I want to pass my knowledge onto someone else…” His thumb brushed against your side, “I want an acolyte.” He leaned in to press kisses on your neck.
“Then why not just get me pregnant?”
He grinned, breathing a content chuckle against your skin, “You would like that wouldn’t you?”
“I wouldn’t mind it.” The thought of a child, a mix of both you and Qimir, running around excited you.
He pulled back to look you in the eyes, “I promise, once my work is done and I have an acolyte to carry out my will. You and I can finally live without constantly hiding and we can have all the children we could want.”
“Promise?”
“Promise my flower.”
That was two years ago before he found… Mae. You believed in his words, kept his identity a secret, and stood by faithfully as he spent all of his time training her.
He said that he didn’t want to risk your life, that was why your love would remain a secret. You could understand his reasoning and you complied as you always did.
Sometimes he would leave you on the unknown planet you both made your home…
You decided long ago to call the planet Apricty because no matter how cold it felt, your love kept it warm. But that warmth slowly began to fade with each passing month he spent away from you. It was always the same line.
“I thought that maybe we could take a tripe to Naboo?”
“I can’t my flower, but I promise soon.”
“Today is our anniversary. I wanted to make something special for us for dinner. When will you be home?”
“I can’t my flower, but I promise soon we will celebrate.”
“Can I come with you this time? I feel…” alone…
“I can’t take you with me my flower, but I promise soon.”
You spent most of your time walking along the beach, collecting shells and taking in the scenery of the waves crashing against the rocks. Today was no different as you sat on the edge of the beach, dipping your toes into the freezing water.
You were bored and lonely and you just, “I miss him.” You admitted quietly to no one. You’ve found yourself talking to the force lately. You weren’t like Qimir, you had no strong connection and you couldn’t wield the force, but you felt close to it as the force reminded you of Qi.
“I miss waking up to him humming as he cooked breakfast… I miss his jokes and that lopsided grin of his… I miss cooking dinner for him and running my hands through his hair… I miss our adventures… I… I miss…” You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt tear drops hit your hands, “I miss him.” You sobbed.
You were concerned and you were scared for him that his ambitions would take him to where you couldn’t follow.
You were cutting potatoes to put in a stew, humming a song that Qimir used to sing to you. It gave you some sense of humanity staying here alone for the past couple of months. Your tears had long since dried from earlier today and your only plan was to eat dinner and go to bed.
“Your voice is just as beautiful as I remember my flower.” You heard him speak behind you and you froze wondering if you were imagining him again.
“Qi…” You whispered his name as you turned to find him standing there, a small smile on his face.
Your eyes tear up as you stood and rushed towards him. He engulfed you in his arms and you felt like you could finally breathe again.
“It’s been so long.” You cried into his shirt.
“I know, I’m sorry my flower.” He whispered into your hair as he caressed your body.
You pulled back to look him over, “Are you alright? Are you hurt?” You notice the tired look on his face, “What happened?”
“Jedi.” He muttered as he pressed his forehead against yours, “I took care of them.”
You breathed in his scent as closed your eyes… You were happy that he was back and you once again felt safe in his arms… That is until you heard a noise emanating from your room.
“What was that?” You wondered as you pulled away from him.
“My flower, there’s something I need to tell you about.” He said.
There was nothing in his expression that would allow anyone to know what he was thinking… But you weren’t just anyone.
“What is it?” A frown crossed your lips as you could see the guilt in his eyes.
“I brought Osha here.” He muttered knowing he could not lie to you.
“Osha?” Your brows furrowed, “Your acolyte’s sister? Why?”
“Mae betrayed me. I believe Osha is the acolyte I need.”
You pushed him away, your joy of him returning morphing into frustration, “You brought her here?”
“I had no other choice.” He pressed.
“You always have a choice.” You turned away from him. It was ironic how now you wanted space from him.
He took a step towards you wrapping his arms around your waist, “She was hurt, please. I wouldn’t have brought her here if I didn’t have a choice.”
You sighed and closed your eyes, “Alright.” You whispered quietly.
He turned you around and pressed a kiss to your lips, “Thank you my flower. You have always supported me and I love you for that.”
“Of course.” You brushed your nose against his, “I love you.”
You spent your evening tending to the girl’s wound, something you never dreamed of doing, but here you are. You were happy though that at least Qimir was back and hopefully now you can go with him places.
Or so you thought.
You both stood outside of the cave as he told you, “For my plan to work, you can’t tell her that we are together.”
“What do you mean?” You questioned him, “What does our love have anything to do with her as your new acolyte?”
“She needs to see that to truly be powerful she cannot have any attachment to her old life.” He explained, “Trust me on this, please.” He asked once again.
“Who…” You frowned softly, a sad look in your gaze, “Who would you have me be?”
“You’ll be my smuggler, just for a little while.” He placed his hands on your arms, “I swear that it won’t be for long. Just until she accepts who she is.”
“Okay…” You whispered unsure.
Why do you always say yes to him? Why can’t you just tell him that this hurts you more than slicing your own skin? Then being left alone. It felt as if he didn’t want to belong to you anymore…
“Who are you?” Osha asked behind you from where you were making lunch.
“No one important.” You spoke softly, “How is your wound?”
“It’s… Better… Thank you.” She spoke unsure.
“I did what I could with what I had.” You motioned to a bag, “There are some clothes and things for you in there. They are mine, but I’m sure they’ll fit.”
I could hear her make her way over to the bag and open it to inspect the items, “Why are you helping me?” She wondered.
“Because he asked.” You stated as you added more vegetables to the curry, “And because I’m not a bad person.”
You heard her pick up the bag and carry it to the back room to change.
“Qi is outside.” You told her, “I’ll come fetch you both for lunch when it’s ready.”
You hoped that you didn’t seem too mean or awkward as you brushed off your pants. At least the curry turned out good. You thought as you slipped on your shoes and one of Qimir’s coat that you stole. His scent was still there but faded from how many times you’ve worn it while he was away.
“You are not going to give that back are you?” He chuckled.
“You are leaving me for months. The least you can do is leave me this. I may forget you after all.” You teased though you were silently hurting, you didn’t let him know.
He pulled you in for a deep kiss, “I won’t be gone long. Once I find an acolyte everything will be perfect.”
But everything was perfect… At least to you.
You hummed softly as you left the cave, some seeds in your pocket to feed the cute little creatures that live alongside you. The walk felt nice as you finally had somewhere to go to without mindlessly wandering around until your feet felt numb. You wondered if Qi would like to go see the small garden you had been meticulously been cultivating since he left. It wasn’t perfect, but it was yours.
Besides you always told him you wanted a garden and now you have one that you made all on your own.
“A garden hm?” He smiled softly down at you.
“Yes! I would like a big one with the most beautiful and exotic fruits, vegetables, and flowers that we have ever seen!” You explained happily to him as he spun you around in your little home, “Then I can make us the most delicious meals.”
“I see, I guess I will have to get started on building you one then.” He smiled.
He never did build you that garden; but it made you feel proud that you built one yourself. It wasn’t grand and it didn’t have the most beautiful fruits, vegetables, or flowers in the galaxy, but it was enough. It made you content in your lonely state. You continued on your path, knowing exactly where he would be. It was your favorite spot after all, a little cove that was perfect for taking a swim or just relaxing. You remember all of the fond memories the two of you had there when the only thought in mind was your shared future. You thought it was enough… You hoped it was.
You could hear two voices and you sighed silently knowing you would have to put up an act. You had secretly hoped that Osha would try to escape or get lost and you could spend some much needed time with Qimir, but you suppose that the force was not on your side this time.
“If you’re not going to join me then I would like to get dressed.” You heard Qimir say and the odd choice of words made a sick feeling settle in the pit of your stomach.
You turned around the corner of a giant boulder when before you made you step back in shock. There your lover was standing bare in front of a girl who was only supposed to be his padawan.
What was this…?
You didn’t understand as you watched him get dressed. He didn’t try to hide himself or make her turn away. He didn’t…
You turned away and wrapped your arms around yourself, silently leaving the two to their private conversation. There were many emotions and thoughts consuming your mind as you trekked back to your little home.
How long has that been going on? Was he that way with Mae as well? Was I just a placeholder until he found someone better? Why? Why? Why?
Your sadness grew into anger as the realization settled in you like a seed of doubt. He… Didn’t love me anymore. I wonder if he ever did? You thought.
You waited in your home, a place that you have worked hard to make it a warm and welcoming place for the both of you. You could hear them talking as they approached, could see them as Qimir twisted his way inside her mind as he did yours all those years ago. Watched as he grabbed her arm so gently that you wanted to cry. You wanted to look away as she pinned him to the cave entrance and he let her, the lightsaber so close to his neck you wondered if she would actually do it… You wondered if you wanted her to.
He set his claim over her with soothing words and a gentle touch and you knew… He didn’t want you. He didn’t even want a padawan.
He wanted an equal.
You couldn’t give him that, not with your small connection to the force. You weren’t like him. You never would be.
Your heart broke in that moment and nothing saved you from the sorrow that consumed you. All you wanted was a family… He was your family. He was everything to you and you… You weren’t as nearly important to him.
“At least three.” You lied in bed, curled up in his arms.
“Four kids?” He chuckled as he drew circles across your skin, “Why not make it four? Make it even.”
“Four?” You hummed in thought, “Do you think you can handle that many kids?”
“I handle you just fine, how hard can it be?” He teased.
You mockingly gasped in shock before rolling over on top of him, “You’ll see just how hard I am to handle.”
“Oh I’m counting on it.” He grinned, placing his hands on your hips.
You leaned down to press your forehead against his, “You’ll miss me when I’m gone Qi.”
“I’ll never let you go.” He stated sincerely, “Nothing will ever keep me from you, my flower.”
“I’ll keep you to that.” You kissed him.
It seemed that shattered piece of the force reminded him that you were there. He could feel that string of yours begin to fray and when his eyes met yours he knew that there was no way to bring you back.
It was early the next morning and you watched the tide begin to recede as you waited to board your ship, one that was smaller than Qimir’s, but still fast.
“Flower.”
“Please, spare me indignity.” You whispered.
“I can explain.”
You could see the hurt hidden behind his soft gaze, a pleading act that you knew too well. It was a look that he only gave when he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t have been doing.
You continued to look at him with tears in your eyes, “I don’t need you to explain anything to me. I’m not connected to the force like you, but I know you do the very core of my being and I know… I know Qimir.”
“That’s not—” He stepped towards you, but you held a hand up to stop him.
“I want to be loved only by you and… You swore that it would just be the two of us. You used to say you couldn’t bear to be without me… You used to run to see me… I want to be close to you and you still keep me at arms length. You think I’m naive, but I see more than what you want me to see.” You took a breath as you tried to keep your composer without breaking down.
You searched his eyes for the love he once held for you and you wanted to cry because you couldn’t find it anymore.
“You have my heart Qimir, you always have. My love for you is as warm as the sun, but I cannot continue to shine upon something that prefers the darkness.” You confessed, your heart barely keeping it together. You wanted to run back in his arms and forget everything that happened, but that would only leave you right where you are now… Alone.
“What are you saying?” His voice cracked and he felt a gnawing feeling crawl up his chest and towards his heart.
“I can no longer follow you on the path that you are taking, not when your heart no longer belongs to me so please… Give me some decency and let me leave you.” You pleaded not knowing how much your heart could take.
“I can’t.” He shook his head and his voice became desperate, “Please don’t leave me. I can’t bear to loose you. Not you.”
“Then tell her to go.” You looked in the direction of where Mae was watching at the entrance of your home… Your life… Your safe space.
“I…” He looked torn as he tried to decide and that hurt you all the more… He had to think about choosing you and… “I can’t.” He finally responded.
He couldn’t even choose you.
You nodded to yourself at his choice, silently confirming your decision to leave. It was best for you no matter how much pain you were currently in.
“No one will ever be able to truly see you the way I do… You were my apricity.” You turned and began to walk to your ship, “Goodbye Qimir.”
Osha took his place by his side and he suddenly felt a feeling of emptiness, no longer did he feel a purpose nor did he wish for anything except for his beloved flower.
“You won’t kill her?” Osha asked as she watched as your ship took off.
“Never.” He responded quietly.
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dduane · 1 year
Note
Do you have any recommendations on what to do when you can’t write?
I’ve been struggling to write for years, but telling stories is all I want to do. I have ideas and plots and characters all figured out! But actually getting the words onto paper? I just can’t do it. There’s a mental block or something getting in the way.
I want to write, I so badly do. I want to tell my stories! But no matter how hard I try, no matter how much I love the story, the words never work properly. I can day dream scenes up perfectly, but as soon as I’m near paper the words all vanish.
I guess what I’m actually asking is: how did you defeat the blank page?
Well, first of all, I can confidently tell you that your storytelling per se is working just fine. You just told me a perfectly cogent story right there, in writing. So that's good to know.
Now let me put your mind a little at rest by telling you something reassuring about the Writer's Brain:
It's not the sharpest knife in the block, if you take my meaning. It can be tricked. It can be fooled. It can be bamboozled into working when it doesn't want to... sometimes with embarrassing ease. (And this approach is, by and large, far preferable to sitting around over-analyzing one's interior life to figure out what went wrong with your developmental process somewhere in the dim lost past. Just hornswoggle the silly thing into working and then do the analysis later, if you can be bothered.)
Sometimes just changing something basic in the process the Writer's Brain is expecting is enough to make it lose the plot (so to speak...) and let you get on with work. And in your case I'd say, more or less immediately: Have you tried telling the story to yourself out loud, recording it, and then transcribing the recording?
Because this problem is a commonplace among storytellers. Sit them down in the pub and give them tea or a drink and start them going, and you'll get half an effortless hour of hilarious prose about What The Cat Did In The Middle Of The Night or When The Neighbors Were Fighting In The Street Again Yesterday. But show them blank paper, or an empty screen, and (now that the pressure to perform is suddenly in place) they freeze.
So try doing an end run around your writing brain. Borrow or otherwise procure a little recorder of some kind. (Or if you've got a smartphone, add a voice recording app to it.) Go get comfortable somewhere and get yourself into that daydream state, and then—making sure the recorder's on—start talking.
It doesn't have to be perfect unblemished prose. The pursuit of that comes later, after draft zero-minus-one. Just tell the story... or some of it. Or a fragment of it. Even a few paragraphs is a triumph, in a situation like this. You may, during the recording, have to talk yourself into the story stage by starting out talking about something else first. Let that happen.
Then when you're done recording, listen to it and transcribe it (typed or handwritten, as you please).
And maybe a day later, do this again. And a day or two later, once more. And so forth.
You're going to have to keep at this, because your Writer's Brain may start suspecting what you're up to, and try throwing spanners into the works. (Its favorite being "Oh, this isn't working, I may as well give up..." Pay no attention to that nagging little voice behind the curtain. Just keep doing what you're doing. Persistence is a superpower.)
The thing to keep reminding yourself, as you settle into this process, is that sooner or later the WB's resistance is going to flag, because you really do want to tell stories. It does too. What you have to teach it is that—to coin a phrase—resistance is useless. :)
Anyway: give this a try. You'll need to be doing this daily for at least a couple of months to find out whether it works or not. So let me know how it goes.
(BTW: once you've broken through the barrier, you may well find that dictation is a good routine way for you to generate your first draft. At that point—should you feel inclined to go a little higher-tech than recording and hand transcription—let me recommend Dragon Anywhere. This is a month-to-month subscription version of Dragon's flagship text to speech program—the one @petermorwood and I got Terry Pratchett to use when he started having difficulty typing. I use Anywhere a lot, on days when it's easier to write stretched out or lying down than it is sitting up. It transcribes what you say, and then you can just email it to yourself and cut-and-paste it into your writing document. Very handy.)
Hope this helps!
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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 6 months
Text
Preggers
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader
Warnings: fluff, smut!
a/n: sequel to Racing Simulator, enjoy!!!
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"Fuck.." You sighed closing your eyes. Your palms were sweating and resting on the sink as you waited for the results of the pregnancy test you just took without Lando knowing.
Your mouth went dry and your legs wobbled when you opened your eyes to see another line appear on the test. Positive.
Your body felt as if a heat wave just hit you. You were overwhelmed by a wide range of emotions as you put your hand over you belly trying to make yourself aware that a new life will grow in you in the coming months.
You decided to take the test secretly without anyone knowing because you didn't want anyone to put any kind of pressure on you. You've been feeling weird for the past two weeks and as a woman you knew something was happening to your body something you've never felt before.
The possibility of being pregnant immediately crossed your mind especially after coming onto Lando like a horny teenager that day in his racing chair. You were well aware that there was a great chance you were gonna get pregnant because you were ovulating and that very day you just had to spice it up.
You wisely tried to hide symptoms like nausea, inexplicable feeling of fatigue and headache. You even tried to fool yourself by attributing it all to stress at work, but it was only when you missed your period you decided to stop denying the possibility that you are pregnant. And now that you are standing over the sink looking at two clear lines, you have convinced yourself that a woman's intuition is never wrong.
You didn't even realize that a few tears ran down your cheeks until you looked yourself up in the mirror and blinked a couple of times. Taking a deep breath in you turned on the faucet and splashed cold water over your face to come to your senses before going to look for Lando.
When you finally managed to get yourself together, you went to the kitchen, leaving the test behind in the bathroom. You poured yourself a glass of water looking over the kitchen island at Lando who was lying on the couch in the living room.
"Baby?" He asked looking at you from the couch, but you just kept staring at him without blinking. "Is everything okay?" He asked again, but there was no answer from you which instantly made him get up and walk over to you.
"Y/n, what's wrong? Talk to me." His gaze was full of concern as he cupped your face between his hands making you look up at him.
"I-I.." You stuttered, struggling to get the sentence out. "I have to tell you something." You put your hands over his tightening your grip around them.
"What? Tell me."
"Uh..I.." Nervousness washed over you, words didn't have the courage to leave your mouth because you didn't know what his reaction would be. you didn't often touch on the topic of children even though you had been together for 4 years. You loved each other more than anything, but you wanted to enjoy your youth as long as you could.
"Y/n, please, tell me what's going on. You're all pale and I'm getting really-"
"I'm pregnant." You cut him off making his jaw drop and eyes widen. It took him a second to process what you just said before he chuckled and let out a deep sigh of relief.
"Baby..are you really?" His eyes sparkled. You didn't know at that moment, in fact, you were even confused by his reaction, but it was as if he had been dying to hear those words all this time.
"Yeah..I just took the test in the bathroom" You nodded your head smiling with teary eyes as he pressed his forehead against yours and laughed sweetly before tightly wrapping his arms around yours shoulders.
"You're freaking me out a little with how happy you are" You admit pulling back from the hug to look at him.
"Of course I'm happy. My woman is having my baby. How could I not be?" He couldn't hide his excitement and that was definitely a relief and an encouragement, but you were still kind of terrified of the new unfamiliar situation you found yourself in. "Are you not?"
"I mean..I'm a little scared. I wasn't expecting this now" He raised his eyebrows giving you a doubtful look tilting his head to the side making both of you laugh as he remembered that day he finished inside you without you complaining. "Oh stop it!" You laughed, softly punching his chest before he pulled you to himself again and you leaned your head against him.
"You have nothing to be scared of okay? I'll take care of you, of us. " His words and his hug were enough to erase every fear, every uncertainty and question mark above your head. His embrace was your safe haven, your refuge and your home where you felt the best. "We're in this together. It was going to happen sooner or later."
"You've thought about us starting a family?" You ask looking up at the blue eyes.
"For quite some time now"
"Really?" You asked visibly taken aback, but positively surprised.
"There was one particular moment when I started fantasizing about us having a kid. It was when you met Mila for the first time. When we came for a family dinner at my parents' house and then after a while you disappeared from the table and I found you two in the playroom having a tea party." Both of you smiled as he tucked your hair behind your ear reminiscing the heart warming moment.
"The way you played with her, the way you talked to her..It was so natural for you and she was delighted with you. I was just standing there at the door admiring the two of you and then my mom saw me and it was like she could read my mind right at that moment. She was like "don't wait for too long Lando". And that's when I knew, I knew you'd be the one to carry my baby one day. Nobody else but you."
"Baby, that's so sweet.." It looked like the pregnancy hormones had already kicked in because his words made you a whimpering mess beneath him. You were sobbing as you listened to the man you loved more than anything talk about everything a woman could wish for.
"Just think about us lying in bed in the morning, our baby between us. We're looking at her, kissing her, cuddling her..I can't wait to protect both of you for the rest of my life you know?"
The scene that you pictured in your head was heaven itself just like he described it and now the excitement and joy prevailed in you and the color returned to your face when you realized that everything would be fine. Everything would be just like you've always dreamed of and more.
"Now I can't wait to meet baby Norris." You said quietly giving a soft long kiss to his lips.
"Yeah, baby Norris." He proudly repeated after you loving the way it sounded. "And when are you going to let me make you mrs Norris?" He asked and you smiled shyly looking down.
If it only had been up to Lando, he would probably have married you that day when you met Mila. He knew you were the one for him. You were the one thing he was completely sure of without a single doubt in his mind. You felt the same way about him as well, but you always thought that you should wait a little longer, that you are too young, that you are not in a hurry. There was also a constant pressure from the public that you were not ready to deal with so Lando waited patiently for you to be ready.
"Now is the perfect time to take my last name." He said.
"No, people will think that you're marrying me only because you got me pregnant and I don't want that."
"I don't care what others will think. You and I both know that's not true. C'mon, baby, be my wife." He kissed you and you wrapped your arms around his neck giggling into the kiss as he seemed to propose you right then and there.
"Maybe I should accept it now that you're offering because maybe you won't want to marry me later when I'm all fat and swollen."
"Me not wanting to marry you? That is unlikely to ever happen. Besides," He says between kisses, gripping your ass he pulled you to him pressing you against his already semi hard crotch. "I can't wait to have you walking around with round belly and full breasts. Fuck, it's turning me on so much." His hands moved to your belly gently rubbing it then up to your tits underneath your cropped wide t shirt giving them a tight squeeze.
"Is that so?" You smirk deciding to go along with what he just started. "You gonna help me out with sore breasts?"
"Fuck yes baby. Gonna take such a good care of you. " The soft kisses quickly turned into more passionate and deep ones pushing tongue into each others mouth. "Turn around for me" You do as he pleases bending over the kitchen island as he grinds himself against your butt.
"I'm so hard, can you feel it?" He whispers into your ear making you shiver. Pulling your legging just below your butt, his hand slips inside your panties. His fingers quickly trace over your wet folds before attaching them to your sensitive bud. "So wet for me, fuuuck. You're my good girl, aren't you?" You nod closing your eyes and throwing your head back on his shoulder.
"Arch your back for me" He gently takes your hips in his hands pushing you onto the hard cold surface and collecting your hair into a ponytail. Teasing you with his tip at your entrance you push yourself back against him until you have him deep inside you.
"Ahh, feels so good"
"I wish you could see my point of view right now, so fucking hot." His eyes were glued on his cock disappearing into your pussy, drenching him in your wetness. "I'm not pulling out anymore, I'm gonna cum in you every time you let me fuck you"
"Oh Lando..yess, please"
"Everyone will know that I'm the one who put a baby in you. That I fucked you so good, filled you up so deep, yeah? Shit, baby.." His hands were desperately clutching at your hair while he was slamming hard into your hole. The slapping of your skin against his echoing through the kitchen.
"Yes, you fuck me so good Lando. Keep going, I'm so close." A couple more thrusts later, his hot breath against your skin and soon you were reaching your highs panting out his name.
"Fuck baby, look how much you came" His eyebrows furrowed and lips parted groaning when he saw that you left white ring around his cock taking him again and again. "Gonna play with your pussy every day. Shit, I'm gonna cum, oh shit" The sight drove him crazy, you could feel him pulsating before he spilled his cum inside you pushing his cock as deep as it went.
"You did so good, so so good." His arms pulled you to him trapping you in a tight embrace as he left small kisses on your cheek and your shoulder.
You wince as you feel him pull out of you, your juices dripping down your thighs making him curse under his breath. Unable to resist the urge, his hand slips down to your thighs collecting the dripping cum with his fingers and rubbing it all over your pussy again.
"My beautiful, most beautiful pregnant girl."
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cutielando · 5 months
Text
sweet girl | o.p.
synopsis: in which you bring your little girl to her first race
my masterlist
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"Are you sure she's ready?" you asked Oscar one night, laying in bed facing each other.
"She'll be safe with you and my parents, you don't have to worry about that. We don't have to bring her if you don't want, it was just a thought" he said, tracing your spine with the tips on his fingers.
Ever since Charlotte was born, you've kept it a complete secrete from the public. You hadn't even told anyone that you were pregnant except for your families and the McLaren team. Given that your lives were very public and in the open eye, you wanted to enjoy your pregnancy as something only for the two of you.
"How do you think the world is going to react?" you asked, already picturing the whole paddock going crazy over the fact that you would be bringing your baby to a race.
"They're going to lose their minds" Oscar chuckled, pulling you even closer.
You chuckled alongside him before you settled into a comfortable silence, the baby monitor silent for the moment.
"This past year has been amazing. Just the three of us, nobody commenting on how we should be leading our lives" you said, thinking back on the one year since your girl has entered this world.
Your pregnancy has been amazing, you were lucky that you didn't experience morning sickness at all, you didn't have weird cravings, you hadn't gained that much weight, you weren't tired, you kept active. It was really the dream pregnancy.
Oscar, of course, had become all that more protective of you and the baby. He made sure you were always comfortable, you never had to strain yourself more than necessary, he was practically at your beck and call the entire time.
When it came down to labor, he was with you the whole time you had to push, whispering encouraging words, holding you up and holding your hand. He was the best, helping you with your recovery and being the most hands-on new father that you had ever met.
And you weren't just saying that because you were biased.
"It has. I'm surprised nobody figured it out, to be honest" he said, making the two of you laugh.
"Imagine their surprise when they see us with Char" you said, silently hoping Oscar would get the hint.
He was silent for a moment before he looked down to you, a smile threatening to escape his lips.
"Does that mean you'll come to the race with her?" you giggled, nodding your head.
Oscar pulled you to him, kissing your lips eagerly. Just as you rolled around and ended up on top of him, your hands wordlessly sliding up his shirt, cries erupted from the baby monitor, making you sigh and chuckle.
"I'll get her" Oscar said, kissing your forehead and leaving the room to soothe your daughter.
♡♡♡♡♡
"Do we have everything?" you asked, finishing dressing your baby girl in a papaya onesie the McLaren team had gifted you for the occasion.
"Yes, everything is in the bag" Oscar assured you, picking it up along with his backpack.
"Are you ready to go see daddy race, sweet girl?" you cooed at Charlotte, who smiled wordlessly at the both of you.
Her small hands reached out to Oscar, her eyes twinkling at her father.
"You ready, Char?" Oscar asked in a baby voice, tickling her tummy which prompted your girl to erupt in a fit of giggles, your favorite sound in the world.
After spending a couple more minutes with your little family, you two met up with his parents and started your journey towards the track, Oscar's parents playing with Charlotte the whole way to keep her entertained.
Once you finally arrived, Oscar took the bags and kept you close to him as you held Charlotte, trying to shield her face away from the thousands of flashed coming your way. 
She, on the other hand, being the little social butterfly that she was, insisted on being seen, waving to everyone that passed by you.
A couple of interviewers signaled for Oscar to give a statement, so he gently pulled the two of you with him towards one of the friendlier ones.
"Oscar Piastri, the man of the moment. I see you have brought someone special with you to your home race, care to share the news with us?" the kind woman asked, her eyes darting to the happy little girl holding her McLaren teddy in her arms.
"This is my wife, Y/N, as my fans know, but we have an addition to the family. This is our daughter, Charlotte Rose, she's almost 1 year old and she decided she wanted to watch her daddy drive today, isn't that right, Char?" Oscar turned his attention to your daughter, gently caressing her cheek.
She smiled widely at him and squealed "Voom voom!" which made everyone melt and awe.
"She is adorable, congratulations to you both. This is the first time we're hearing about her, how did you come to the decision to keep Y/N's pregnancy a secret?" the woman followed up, smiling at you the whole time.
"I am a public figure and my whole life is being displayed to the public. When we found out that we were expecting, we both made the decision to keep it to ourselves and our families, mainly so we could have a sense of normality for when she would be born and not throw her into the spotlight immediately. We wanted to enjoy it for ourselves for a while" he explained, not even minding that Charlotte was tugging at his hair as she wriggled in your arms.
"We understand. Congratulations to both of you once again, you have made one beautiful young daughter. I wish you good luck on the race and much love in the future with this little one" the interviewer looked at you for permission to touch her, which you gave by simply smiling.
The woman squished her cheeks, making Charlotte smile and babble at her, seemingly happy as a bug.
Oscar thanked the woman and led you through the paddock towards the McLaren hospitality, where you and his parents would be residing in for the race.
Once there, Lando and Zak were waiting for you, eager to see the newest addition to the Papaya army.
"There she is, my favorite little munchkin" Lando cooed before taking her from your arms, your little girl giggling once she laid eyes on her favorite uncle.
"La-do" Charlotte giggled, not being able to pronounce his name correctly yet.
"Yes, it's your uncle Lado. You just get cuter and cuter every time I see you" he bounced her in his arms, making her erupt in a fit of laughter which made everyone in the hospitality smile.
"How are you, Y/N?" Zak asked, putting a hand on the small of your back.
"I'm great, thank God. She's keeping us on our toes, but we love it nonetheless. Oscar really wanted her for the race and I couldn't deny him that" you explained, making Zak nod and smile.
You diverted your eyes back to your husband, who was now sitting on the floor with Lando and playing with Charlotte.
As you watched them, you knew that you would never trade this for anything else in the world. This right here, Oscar and your girl, was everything that you needed.
Just Oscar and your sweet girl.
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