yemmuis

[yemmuis]

game over?

his number one girl and his number one fan

pairing: streamer!Choso x fem!reader

content: MDNI, cockwarming, exhibitionism, chat is bullying Choso so hard, established relationship, use of pet names (baby, princess), modern AU, unprotected piv sex, Choso being a tease(but he talks you through it)

a/n: based on this ask!!

art by @aransmind and divider by @anitalenia!

"Worst stream of the year. Okay, dunno why I read that one," Choso murmured, scratching the back of his hair and squinting at the incoming chat messages.

thesixeyes:there's NO way he's actually this bad lololol

k1ng0fcurs3s: have you considered killing yourself?

Maybe he wasn't the best at this game (or any), but still, ouch. Most of the other streamers he'd become friends with over the past year probably would just time the guy out, get their mods to ban the worst offenders, but his mod team only consisted of one person - his younger brother.

And he hated asking Yuji to do anything - even if it was something he volunteered for.

Sometimes he was tempted to quit. But then again, if he'd never started streaming, he never would've met you.

"Do any of you guys know where I'm supposed to go next?" He brushed it off, returning his attention to the map on the screen, his mouth automatically curled up just at the idea of you probably watching from the bedroom, curled up in his blankets with your phone propped up on the pillow.

chosospr1ncess: end stream pls

And now the image of you had new details, your hand between your thighs, your canines tugging at your lower lip. Impatient and needy, soft whispers of his name falling from your mouth.

"Hold on a sec, chat," He muttered, picking up his phone from his desk, opening up his messages to send you a short one: Come here.

Your laugh was loud enough to hear through the not-entirely-effective soundproofing padding the wall separating his office from the bedroom. Choso wasn't the only one who heard.

The chat was going faster than he could read, half of them calling just calling bullshit.

"You guys wanna meet my girlfriend?" He paused the game now, readjusting the camera higher, cutting off everything below his chest. The new chorus of she's not real and he's actually lost it was interrupted by two short knocks on the door. "Come in, baby."

It took a single look at the blush staining your cheeks to know his fantasy wasn't just fiction, the slight tremble in your legs as you walked over to his gaming chair.

He tugged you into his lap once you were within reach, brushing the hair off your neck and wrapping his arms tight around your waist. God, he didn't think he'd ever smelled anything so delicious.

"Isn't she pretty?"

Perched on his thighs, your lips fixed in an adorable pout at being interrupted, glancing between him and the webcam then over to the chat, currently flooded with accusations and theories that he must've paid you.

"You gonna say hi to them, baby?" He muttered in your ear, humming softly against your skin, a thin sheen of sweat making a few stray hairs stick to your neck from your attempt at keeping preoccupied without him.

"Hi," You repeated, already squirming in his lap before he'd even done anything.

k1ng0fcurs3s: are you as bad in bed as you are playing this?

k1ng0fcurs3s: id fuck your girl better

"Yuji, ban that guy," You moved the mouse, frowning as you talked, copying the username of and sending it to the private chat already open offscreen.

While he'd rather be the one taking care of you, it was sweet to see you get worked up on his behalf, readjusting on his lap like he'd somehow miss the damp spot on your panties soaking through his sweatpants, the slick still coating your thighs.

You were reading whatever message caught your attention next, too distracted to notice his hands tugging down his sweatpants, freeing his cock so he could shove your underwear and tiny shorts aside. It wasn't until he already aligned himself, started inching his way that you realized what he really called you in here for.

"I, um, oh-" Your stutter was adorable, your spine going stiff as you clamped down around him. But there was almost no resistance, not after you had prepped yourself so nicely for him.

"She can be a little camera shy," Choso informed the chat, scooting the chair closer, watching your face in frame in the bottom corner, all glossy-eyed and flustered.

"Y-yeah," You stammered, really squirming now as he suddenly brought you down all the way on him under the guise of readjusting, barely managing to control your facial expressions in front of the thousand or so people currently tuned in live absolutely oblivious to the fact you were being crammed full of your boyfriend's cock.

"Since I apparently suck at this, why don't you try?" He casually offered, his voice gravelly, struggling not to get caught up in the sinful way you seemed to suck him in. How tightly your thighs were pressed together, the throb of your walls around him while your chin barely bobbed in reply. "What do you guys think?"

Embarrassingly enough for him, even with his tip grinding against your cervix, forced to swallow your moans at every throb and twitch of his cock filling you up, you were still doing better than he was ten minutes ago.

Dodging attacks and actually striking down the creepy-looking monsters, your brows knitted together so tightly while you tried desperately to concentrate on the screen, clicking frantically with the mouse and hitting the keys. Each time you jolted at a new jumpscare was some new form of torture, his attempts at teasing twisted back on him when he couldn't do anything except twitch, barely restraining the temptation to turn the camera off and fuck you right there on the desk.

"Shit," Your curse came out more like a whine when you died, chipping away at his cool facade, his forearm pressing you tighter against his chest, hips rolling ever-so-slightly up to drive himself deeper.

"Just load the last save," He quietly instructed, resting his chin on your collarbone and wondering if the camera was sharp enough to pick up how you shuddered at the hoarse sound of his voice, lips pressing together tightly to conceal the noise you were so desperate to make.

thesixeyes: he'd know lol he's already died like fifty times

"You havin' fun?" Choso ignored the chat, ignored the game, his attention entirely devoted by how much you were tensing up listening to him talk. Using his muscled forearm to add more pressure, not particularly caring how clingy of a boyfriend he probably looked on screen.

Who could blame him when his girlfriend was you?

If you were in the room, he had to be touching you, whether it was a hand on your waist or his mouth on your neck. He tried - really - to give you space, but it was like you had hollowed every inch of his heart out, everything empty without your touch, your scent, your warmth to fill the ache.

"Mhm," You made a tiny noise, blinking too fast, lashes fluttering too hard. Trying to discreetly grind down against him, search for any sort of friction to soothe the burn from being stuck and stretched in place. You started the save back up, eyes narrowing like you needed to focus just to die again at the first enemy that popped up. "Fuck."

"Sorry, sweetheart," He hummed, his hand drifting down and out of sight of the camera to rub against your poor, neglected clit. Massaging rough circles over the swollen bud, your entire body freezing at his heavy touch. "Keep trying."

Craning your head back to look at him, to shield your silent plea pout from your audience, his own muscles tensing at how cute you looked like that, your bottom lip pushed out and chewed up from how much you'd been biting it since you sat down. He wanted to kiss it, to tug it between his own teeth, to taste you on his tongue and trace every last inch of you.

"It's hard," Your complaint was strained, your thighs rustling together as you shifted your weight, like you couldn't decide if you should get up or stay there. He rolled your clit between two sturdy fingers though, your jaw going slack at the sudden sensation, your eyes practically glazed over and mouth in a pretty little 'o' as you kept your focus on him.

"You can handle it," Choso reassured, like sweat wasn't pricking at his own brows, a few loose strands of his bangs starting to stick to his forehead. Still, he nodded back towards the screen, your attention reluctantly returning to the game. "Keep going."

Watching you through the camera while all the assholes in chat watched him fuck you, the comments that had been cruel before now filled with cheesy compliments (and a few crude ones too that he'd be sure to take care of himself later.)

Your movements were jittery, fingers hitting the keys at the wrong time, missing hits even he thought were easy, somehow managing to get turned around and lost. Your face all scrunched together when you skimmed over the chat for tips as if Choso's wasn't currently smashed against your cervix. You were close, your breathing uneven, everything squeezing so hard like the pressure was too much, the tension ready to snap at any second.

"Do, I, um-" You paused, your pitchy voice struggling to finish like you were too fucked out to remember what you were trying to ask in the first place.

All it took was one more rough drag of his thumb over the sensitive bundle of nerves, and it was over, a moan you couldn't contain spilling out that, your hand flying over your mouth, attempting to disguise the sound as a cough while you scrunched your eyes closed.

"Feeling okay, princess?" He teased, muttering softly into your skin while your thighs trembled on top of his. The hazy look in your eyes, like you had half as many brain cells than what you came in there with.

"Just, uh, had something in my throat," You excused, sucking in a sharp breath while you squirmed from the constant stimulation. If you wanted something in your throat, he would be more than happy to oblige.

Anything for you.

"C'mon, baby, wanna try again?"

[yemmuis]

[yemmuis]

missionary but you keep apologizing for being loud so he tells you to “stop fucking apologizing” and tilts your head so your mouth is lined up with his ear and just fucks you harder

[yemmuis]

GOJO SATORU X READER feat. MEGUMI

➛ summary: when Megumi sees you kissing Santa, he knows he has to tell Satoru. But what if Santa is closer than he thinks?

➛ warnings: dad!Gojo, a little angst because of sad megumi (poor baby), fem!reader, fluff, happy ending

➛ wc: 1.4k

➛ a/n: another Christmas drabble. I know a lot of people have done the ‘I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus’ idea, so this is my take on it. I think I got one more drabble to go after this.

Satoru presses a kiss to your sleeping face before he slips out of bed, heading to the kitchen to get the coffee started.

He watches you stir slightly as he creeps out of the room. He’s trying to be a good husband and let you sleep a little longer before the festive madness begins.

It’s 5am on Christmas morning. He knows Megumi will most likely be up soon so he wants at least one of you to be awake to greet him.

Satoru creeps along the hallway quietly before he reaches the top of the stairs.

His brows furrow when he sees a small form sitting at the bottom already.

“Merry Christmas, Megs. What are you doing up so early, bud?” He says softly as he climbs down the stairs.

The white haired man gasps as a very teary eyed Megumi looks up at him as he reaches the bottom of the stairs.

“Hey, hey, hey. What’s going on? What’s got you so upset?” Satoru coos at the young boy.

Megumi sniffles as he wipes at his eyes with the back of his hands. The poor boy looks like his whole world is falling apart sitting there in his reindeer pjs.

“Megumi, you’re worrying me. What’s going on?” Satoru can feel his heart rate speeding up. What the hell was going on? Who upset him and on Christmas morning of all days.

“I-I need to t-tell you something.” Megumi sniffles. “Ok?” Satoru encourages. “B-but I’m w-worried about what will h-happen.” More tears begin to flow down his reddened cheeks.

“Worried what will happen, Megs?” Satoru questions, confusion lacing his voice as he takes a seat next to him on the step. “That w-we won’t be a f-family anymore.” Megumi’s tears begin to flow heavier and it’s breaking Satoru’s heart.

What the hell is going on?

“Why wouldn’t we be a family anymore?” Satoru asks, his brows furrowing in further confusion. “C-cause I saw s-something b-ba—bad.” Megumi sobs.

Satoru moves to crouch in front of the boy so he can look him in the eyes.

“Hey, hey. Look at me, bud. I need you to tell me what you saw because you’re really making me worried now.” Satoru says gently as he takes one of Megumi’s hands, trying to hide the way his own hands shake with anxiety.

“I promise you I’m not gonna be mad and you aren’t gonna be in trouble. I just need you to tell me what happened.” He tells him as calmly as possible.

Megumi’s small form shakes as he continues to cry.

“Take a deep breath for me.” Satoru coos softly. “In—“ he demonstrates by inhaling, “and out.” He watches Megumi copy his breathing. “One more time.” Satoru encourages.

Megumi lets out a final shaky breath as his navy eyes focus on Satoru.

“Alright?” Satoru asks, hand still holding Megumi’s small one. Megumi nods his head slowly, eyes still filled with unshed tears.

“Ok, now tell me what you saw, buddy.” Satoru directs calmly.

Megumi uses his free hand to wipe at his sniffling nose. “L-last night I s-saw Y/N—“ he begins as new tears threaten to fall, his bottom lip wobbling. “Saw her doing what?” Satoru encourages, his heart pounding against his ribs.

He really hopes Megumi can’t hear or sense how anxious he is. He doesn’t want to upset him even more.

“S-she was k-kissing Santa.” Megumi finishes as a few new tears finally slip. “A-and I know t-that’s b-bad cause she’s your w-wife so she’s only s-supposed to k-kiss y-you.” His small voice whimpers.

Satoru’s whole body sags with relief. This is what has him so worked up?

Last night you’d helped Satoru get all dressed up in his Santa costume, even helping him shove a pillow under his shirt to make the big round belly.

The last 2 Christmas’s you guys have had Megumi living with you, he sneaks out of bed every Christmas Eve. Quietly creeping down the stairs to see if he can catch a glimpse of Santa.

So this year Satoru hired a Santa costume with the plan to let Megumi catch ‘Santa’ in the act.

Everything had gone exactly as planned.

Satoru waited in the living room, with you hiding out of Megumi’s line of sight, waiting to hear the pitter patter of Megumi’s little feet creeping downstairs to wait for Santa.

When the telltale pitter patter came, Satoru sprang into action.

He crept quietly around the living room placing Megumi’s presents under the tree. Pretending to be completely unaware of the small boy's presence.

You’d both had to stifle your laughter when you heard his little gasp at the fact he’d finally caught Santa at work.

Eventually, when all the presents had been put under the tree, Satoru stretched up letting out a “Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas.” Changing the timber in his voice to camouflage who he was.

After that you’d heard Megumi’s feet skittering back up the stairs before he would be caught.

Or at least you thought you did.

Once you’d thought Megumi was gone you’d come out of your hiding spot, walking over to Satoru with a giggle.

You’d chatted for a few seconds before you’d told him “Merry Christmas, Santa.” And your husband had leaned in for a kiss.

Unbeknownst to both of you. The young boy must have crept back down the stairs.

That’s what Megumi must have seen.

You kissing ‘Santa Claus’.

“I-I don’t w-want us to n-not be a f-family anymore.” Megumi cries.

Satoru smiles at him softly.

Sure the kid gave him attitude a lot of the time — although he had learned a lot of said attitude from Satoru himself — but he loved Megumi and he loved being a family.

“Calm down, buddy. Ok? It’s all gonna be alright.” Satoru comforts as he sits back on the step beside him, rubbing his back.

Satoru wraps his arm around the small boy's shoulders.

He’s racking his brain, desperately trying to think of a way to calm Megumi down about what happened without spoiling the magic of Christmas for him.

That’s when an idea pops into his head.

“Hey, Megs. You saw Santa last night, right?” Satoru asks. “Y-yeah.” The dark haired boy sniffles. “You get a good look at him?” Satoru continues. “Yeah.” Megumi nods.

Satoru tries to hide his grin.

“Was there anything you recognised about him?” Satoru questions. “Anything look familiar?” He pushes.

Megumi’s brows furrow as his little brain works overtime to think about what Santa looked like.

Red suit. White hair. White beard. Boots. Blue eyes. Dark sunglasses.

Blue eyes? Dark sunglasses?

“He h-had blue eyes. L-like yours.” Megumi stutters, his tears beginning to slow down. “A-and glasses. L-like the ones y-you wear too.”

Satoru finally lets his grin show.

“Hm, is that right?” Satoru winks.

Megumi gasps so loud that Satoru is surprised he didn’t wake half the neighbourhood.

“I-it was you! You’re Santa!” Megumi squeals, eyes wide like saucers. “Shhh!” Satoru hushes him. “It’s true. I’m Santa. But you can’t tell any of the other kids, alright? It’s a secret.” He whispers.

Megumi pretends to zip his lips and throw away the key, making Satoru chuckle.

“D-does Y/N know you’re Santa?” Megumi whispers. “Of course she does! That’s why she gave me a kiss.” Satoru reasons. Megumi nods along like everything now makes perfect sense.

“S-so we’re still a family?” Megumi asks softly. “Of course we are. Always will be.” Satoru smiles as he pulls him in for a side hug.

Megumi wraps his small arms around Satoru, his breathing finally becoming relaxed.

They sit in silence for a little longer before the small boy lets out a yawn.

“Hey, you wanna stay up with me or go sleep a little longer?” Satour asks quietly. “I think I’m gonna go back to sleep for just a little bit.” Megumi says as he rubs his eyes.

Poor kid is exhausted after all those mental gymnastics.

“Alright, you go sleep and I’ll be down here when you wake up.” Satoru smiles at him.

Megumi stands and begins to make his way back upstairs.

Satoru stands, about to walk off to the kitchen when Megumi calls for him from halfway up the stairs.

“Satoru?” Megumi calls. “Yeah, buddy?” The white haired man responds. “I-I—um—love you. And I love our family.” He says shyly.

Satoru feels his heart swell as well as tears in his eyes.

“I love you too, Megs. And I love our little family very much.” He smiles softly. Megumi just nods before he proceeds up the stairs.

Jeez. What an eventful start to Christmas Day.

[yemmuis]

part one here.

★ thinking about mutual masturbation on facetime with ex!satoru which starts off with you just staring at him in some sort of daze, wondering what on earth possessed you to pick up the call in the first place. this is a mistake, you know that... so why aren't you hanging up already?

but before you can dwell too long on the answer to that question, your train of thought is rudely interrupted by a particularly loud moan echoing through the speaker.

“mmh… you actually didn’t decline for once," the white-haired menace gasps out, the slick sounds of his hand gliding up and down his cock only picking up in volume as he lays eyes on you. “shit— you don't know how much i've missed seein’ that pretty face of yours, baby.”

“you’re so shameless, satoru.” you mutter, lacing your tone with as much disdain as you can muster; but the way your own hand somehow snakes its way beneath the waistband of your sweatpants and into your panties tells an entirely different tale of how this whole situation is really making you feel.

“yeah,” he muses in an unapologetic hum, making a show of tilting the camera down to give you a better view of where he's currently thumbing his leaky, blushing tip. “but… ah— so are you, otherwise you would’ve blocked my new number the second i sent you that dick pic.”

“w-well how do you know i wasn't about to press the block button right when you called me and i accidentally clicked accept instead?” you shoot back through teeth which are clenched partly in annoyance and partly in an effort to hold back letting your own pleasure show on your face.

“nah, don’t give me that bullshit,” satoru snorts amusedly, leaning in closer to the screen and tilting his head to the side, snowy lashes fluttering seductively as his bright eyes stare knowingly into yours. “if you’re not enjoying this, then i want you to show me that your hands aren’t in your pants right now rubbing that pretty little pussy.”

shit. of course he'd be able to see through you that easily — he is your ex, after all. but no... you can’t let him win just yet. so, as subtly as possible, you pull your hand from your panties and hold it up to the phone screen, hoping against hope that the darkness of your room hides the wetness of your palm.

“hah. nice try, baby,” he drawls smugly, smiling so wide now that both of his annoyingly cute dimples are on full display; and it’s deliberate, too. he knows full well they were always your weakness. “...but i can see your sweet juices coating those cute fingers from here.”

and he knows he has you right where he wants you when you still don't hang up the call like you both know you should, instead just shoving your hand right back into your panties and rubbing messy circles over your clit while keeping direct eye-contact with him — trying to beat him at his own game, are you? oh, how he's missed you.

so he picks up the pace of his jostling fist around his cock, candy-pink lower lip caught between his pearly teeth as he tries to catch even a small glimpse of your bare skin through the screen; and god, only you could make him act this pathetic, this desperate. "fuck... please, pretty, y'gotta give me something to work with here. h-how about you pull your top up just a little for toru, hm?"

and you've already let this escalate too far to back out now, so you decide to throw caution to the wind and tug at the edge of your oversized tee just enough so that your bare tits spring free, courtesy to your preference for not wearing a bra around your apartment.

"o-oh, just look at those. i missed my girls s'much. bet you wish they were in my mouth right now, huh?" satoru rasps out, balls tightening to an almost painful degree as he reaches down to pay the heavy, neglected sacs some attention by gently fondling them.

and you, having finally caved and slid a finger into your fluttering hole, can only respond with a soft whine as you reach up to knead a breast with your free hand, the image of his skilled mouth suckling on them like he always used to making your much-too-empty cunt clench around your digit with need.

and that singular sweet, sweet sound from your lips that he's been deprived of hearing for months is all it takes for him to finally bust a load all over his chest and hand, goopy white streaks tainting his previously unmarred pale skin as his entire body trembles with a pleasure only you can give him.

and when he eventually manages to compose himself enough to glance back down at the facetime and realize that you're still trying to reach your own climax, your meek little fingers clearly not enough to finish the job, satoru has the absolute audacity to lean right in close to the screen and mutter out a cheeky…

“hey, if y'want me to come over and help you with that then all you gotta do is agree to get back together with me, baby.”

taglist: @haruhatake @sheismaryy @jxeon @bonneyzsk @yozora7154 @depositodeporradogojo @ifyournameischoisanpleaseloveme @anthy-j-ander @sugarcoatedsoul @moncher-ire @fwxyz00 @trishiepo0 @just-lilita @beenathembo @channnee @tul1ps1 @awoodsysimp411 @vera4luv @silllly-jokesterr @mastermasterlist1p1 @yourfaveava @rllyobsessedgirlie @cherrycel @tomiokas-lunchbox @iwaizumisloverrr @citruswriter @jasminelee324 @kocho-catt @azewritessillystuff @suggestmename @greentea-ellie @banksxxnik @feelingtoosilly @nepotti @nonamevenus @barking4dogs-fy @mihoonz @crazytrash @phoenixflames498 @starlightmid @k0z3me @cakenpiewhyohmy @wh1msycal @resfrio @ersharyzst @loveyislost @supernovacoffeestop @ying47

[yemmuis]

tw: infertility

deep down in my mind, i think gojo would have trouble having kids biologically. he genuinely wants babies, but no matter how hard he tries with his wife, it doesn’t work. and it’s very crushing, to him, who has always been alone. the one thing he wants is a big family, but he feels he can’t even provide that for his wife. his fertility issues would correlate with him being the strongest and being so powerful that it sterilizes him. it’s devastating for him and his wife since the both of them want children, but are unable to. this makes satoru hold more resentment towards his powers no matter how much he glorifies himself. for truly, being the strongest is a lonely path.

[yemmuis]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ I went to bed last night thinking about Nanami fucking me soooo sloppy and mindlessly that I almost called out of work today.

Like him just fully on top of you, all of his weight bearing down whilst holding your legs to your chest in the meanest mating press known to man. His long, nimble fingers sinking into the plush underside of your thighs, keeping you wide and accessible and all for him. And there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it either; you can’t move or squirm away or breathe.

God, it’s been hours too. Hours and hours and hours of him mindlessly stretching out your poor, weeping cunt so obscenely wide that it’s dragging your maw open in a loud, helpless wail of his name that’s akin to cold water dripping down, down, down his shuddering spine. He knows it’s too much, really. That you’re mere seconds away from utterly breaking, but he can’t fucking help himself.

“I knowww,” he’d coo, leaning forward to plant a sloppy kiss to the corner of your stupidly parted lips, “I know, I know, I know. J… just ten more seconds, baby I swear.” A large, greedy hand is creeping between your searing bodies, his fingers latching against your poor, ravaged clit for the umpteenth time tonight. “You can take it, sweet girl.”

He’s not thinking, not really. How is supposed to when he’s got you sprawled apart like… like that? You don’t even know how pretty you look beneath him, just completely pried open, that pretty, slobbering cunt on shameless display, your eyes threatening to roll toward the back of your head, fuck, and the way it truly sounds like you’re sobbing — cry after desperate cry spilling from your raptured tongue, but it’s only urging him on and that’s the very thing. He’s only getting harder.

“You are so pretty, sweetheart. My pretty baby… my girl, huh?” He’d babble mindlessly, drawing his hips back almost too far before pummeling forward again, and again, and again. “Taking allll of my cock like such a good, pretty girl.”

And his lips are everywhere — they’re creeping up your throat and sucking. They’re planting the tenderest of kisses to your forehead, your nose, cheeks, almost serving as a gentle reminder that the sweet, loving Nanami you know is still in there somewhere; though his hips are as mean and as slutty as can be, he’s still there and he loves you.

“You know I love you,” he’d mutter, pressing a gentle kiss to your perspiring forehead, “I really really do. I… I just can’t help myself, you’re just sooo good,” it’s merely a breath against your skin, “such a good girl for me, god I love you.” It tumbles past his lips as he’s pushing your legs up further, hooking them over his broad shoulders.

And just like that, those measly ten seconds that he promised will inevitably turn into three more hours, maybe even four if you’re lucky, but you don’t seem to mind… clearly.

[yemmuis]

i just started watching cowboy bebop and idk if every audio ever is from cbbp or if cowboy bebop is using every audio ever

[yemmuis]

i just got so scared bc i went to my other blog and clicked my settings and there qere only like 100 followers and i was like what. what has happened. what about my dilly dallyers. my Listeners. my collection of wenches. where have they gone. and then i realized ir was thr wrong blog

[yemmuis]

You know smoking kills, right? keep that in mind

[yemmuis]

talking to mutuals guide

dming a mutual tricks and cheat codes

basic techniques for reaching out to mutuals

recent advances in talking with mutuals

talking to mutuals okay?

will my mutuals think im weird for talking to them

messaging mutuals in a mutual-honoring way

[yemmuis]

gender neutral intended

”of all the men in this world, you really had to choose this one?”

yaga grumbles, scratching his head as you kneeled sheepishly on the classroom floor. your fingers nervously tapped on the flesh of your thighs, mentally cursing satoru- who sat parallel to you- and glaring at him through your peripheral.

just minutes ago- your fingers were tangled in his hair (which you now want to rip off), your lips danced in sync with his (the very lips you wish to sew tight forever) as his toned arms caged you between him and the wall.

only minutes ago did you feel like the most accomplished person on earth. now, all you felt was humiliation; your own teacher catching you in the middle of your stupid act.

sneaking out of training to make out with satoru gojo in the school closet.

while yaga continued on with his rant, pacing around the classroom and cursing out whoever, satoru pokes the side of your leg. his head is turned towards you, allowing you to see the boyish smirk on his face.

the very face that got you in this mess. that dumb, obnoxious, sexy face.

“my dorm later?” he mouths, raising his brows in suggestiveness. you scoff, lightly slapping his thigh.

“have you no shame?” you whisper, feeling irked while he chuckled.

“in what world would i be ashamed to be with you?” satoru grins sappily, pinching the side of your thigh. you held back a yelp and instinctively slap his arm.

yaga hasn’t noticed yet, fortunately, his back was still turned to you.

“no! satoru, there’s absolutely no way im going out with you after this!” you whisper-yelled. you were lying, of course. no way you would leave someone as irritating, yet perfect, for someone else to snatch.

he pouts, looking back forward and heaving a dramatic sigh. “offer’s still up though. hah, i wonder how he’ll react when he finds out about the other times we-“

“what other times?”

[yemmuis]

“Nuhuh.”

“Yuhuh.”

“Nuhuh.”

“Yuhuh.”

“Nuhuh.”

“Yuh—“

“Good lord! Will both of you stop, please?!” You ask loudly, fingers digging into your temples.

Your husband and Megumi had been arguing back and forth for the last 45 minutes.

You were sitting at the kitchen counter, just trying to enjoy some tea and read your newest book.

But the sound of their constant voices—slowly growing louder and louder—makes your head begin to thump.

“Then tell him you love me more!” Satoru huffs.

“She’s not gonna say that because she loves me more.” Megumi sticks his tongue out and the snowy haired man.

You have to fight the smirk pulling at your lips as you watch your husband and the small boy stare each other down.

Both have their arms folded across their chests. Brows furrowed into a deep scowl as they eye each other.

Besides the hair colour, Megumi looks and is acting like a mini Satoru.

“She reads to me every night and kisses my forehead before I go to sleep.” Megumi waggles his head at Satoru sassily.

“Oh yeah? Well she sleeps in my bed with me aaallll night long.” Satoru snaps back.

“She makes lunch for me everyday.” Megumi grins.

“She makes lunch for me too.” Satoru narrows his eyes at the boy.

“That’s not a brag, dude. You’re like 40 and can’t make your own lunch.” Megumi snorts.

“I am not 40!” Satoru begins raising his voice.

“Enough!” You snap at them.

Both males stop immediately. Pulling their lips together in silence, arms dropping and standing straight, realising they’re in trouble now.

“Listen, I love both of you equally but in very different ways. Ok?” You sigh. “Now cut out the arguing and let me read my book in peace.”

“Fine.” They both huff, arms crossing their chests again.

“I was wrong about you looking 40.” Megumi whispers to Satoru, making him look down at the boy with a raised brow.

“You look closer to 50!” He snickers.

“HOLLOW PUR—“

“Satoru Gojo!” You boom.

“He started it!!”

A/N: just some silliness from my brain

[yemmuis]

husband! toji who has zero clue why cooking has been introduced in modern day slang. seriously, what is the difference between "you're cooked" and "you cooked"? isn't the end result cooking?

either way, he should not be taking dual lingo lessons from both you, his chronically online wife and his even more brain-rotted son, because he messed up bad when you sent him a picture of your dress for your upcoming date night with him.

you [4:02 pm]: [1 image attachment] you [4:02 pm]: how's this? it's for our date this friday <3

even after all these years of marriage, you still manage to knock the socks outta toji. so obviously, to match your energy, he replies in the lingo that has been taught to him

toji [4:03 pm]: you're cooked toji [4:03 pm]: you've been eaten up 😍

you blink at your own screen in confusion. i mean, it was a first that your socially inept husband - bless his heart - was using online lingo, but was the dress that bad?

you [4:04 pm]: oh! okay :') i'll just get another dress then

toji nearly spat out his water when he read your message. was it something he said? why the hell were you getting another dress when he made it very clear he liked the one you had right now?

toji [4:05 pm]: tf toji [4:05 pm]: wym u're getting another dress. this one's good you [4:05 pm]: toji you said i'm cooked :( toji [4:05 pm]: i know what i said. you look good. what's the issue here

it takes you a minute before you realize what your husband's trying to say. you're trying not to double over with laughter as you quickly text him back

you [4:07 pm]: you big baby. thank you 😭 consider this dress bought toji [4:07 pm]: 👍

you quickly text megumi post-which about "needing to have a ppt night about online slang with dad," to which he replies "lol bet."

ah, the internet.

[yemmuis]

Choso is everyone’s favourite boy. Even your mom’s, which is saying something. Always the gentleman, he’s so in tune with your needs and emotions— he’s a sensitive soul.

In public, he’s perfect. Holds your bags when you shop, opens doors, and always has his card out before you can think to find your wallet. He’s great at grounding you, making sure you stop for food and drinks. And Choso loves to share. He doesn’t care about stares you receive as his fork flies over your plates to give you a bite of his order.

At home, he helps you with your shoes, makes sure you park yourself on the couch while he takes care of putting things away. Even though he’s still getting the hang of cooking, you never go to bed hungry— even if it means ordering in with a movie.

He really is the sweetest.

Outside the bedroom.

explicit content under the cut. 18+, mdni.

Behind closed doors, Choso is a different creature.

Depraved doesn’t even begin to cover it.

It never starts out that way, of course— no, it’s always wholesome at the beginning. Falling asleep, Choso pulls you closer to his chest as his leg wraps over your hip. It’s an innocent gesture, cuddling in as you begin to drift off.

That is, until he starts rutting up against you.

How could he not? Your smell, your body against him, your sleepy mumbles of endearment— he couldn’t help himself.

Which is how you end up with your bottoms around your ankles and his wet, pulsing cock twitching between your thighs.

He’d hump them messily, hands fondling your chest and nipples, bringing himself to the edge before stopping to kiss you.

He loved playing this game— getting himself close just to pull away, until his legs were shaking with need and his cock was so hard and heavy it hurt.

By then, of course, he’d be too far gone.

“Just the tip— please. Please, baby— just— just the tip and I’ll stop.”

Squeezing his balls and jerking his base just a little too rough, he’d babble for it. Beg. Beg until his eyes were stinging with tears, until you were reaching down to spread yourself open for him.

One nudge of his soaked, throbbing head against your too-hot hole would have him seeing stars. Toes curling and sharp teeth sinking into your shoulder, he’d paint you white between grunts and whines.

“Fuck— wasted it— needs to go inside. Need to be inside. Please.”

Which is how you end up pinned under him, Choso drilling you into the pillows as he desperately tries to fuck his cum inside.

Your hissed gasps and choked-off moans have his cock leaking like a faucet; he slips out too many times to count, but he’s nothing if not determined. He fucks into your tight little hole with unparalleled speed, the slap of his balls against your ass sure to brand your skin.

He’s never satisfied, finishing like this— as stuffed as you are.

No, he needs to see you.

So, you’re wrangled onto your back, Choso’s shaking form above you as he slides home once more. He nestles his cock as deep as he can reach, tears falling from the overstimulation. His cock feels raw, weeping and burning from the incessant pounding, but he can’t stop his hips.

Poor thing.

Nothing gets him harder than this— your lips on his cheeks, kissing away his tears and cooing as his tip stirs your insides. Your legs around his waist, your nails clawing at his back, the feeling of your chest against his— it’s all too much.

He’d cum crying, shaking as his hips stutter, fucking his cum deep inside.

He’d fall asleep like that, plugging his seed inside you, trembling in your grasp.

You’d wake up to strong hands on your thighs, tongue prodding at your insides as he cleans you up.

“Thank you— thank you—“

Muffled into your skin, you can barely make out what he says.

But of course, you already know.

He’s your sweet boy, after all.

[yemmuis]

Sweetener - C.K.

Synopsis. You, hit by your heat cycle and accidentally calling your best friend over in a daze. Choso Kamo, your utterly sweet best friend - and totally not an aIpha, right? Right?

Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! oméga! reader, alpha! Choso, heats, best-friends-to-lovers, pining, creampíes, bréeding, Choso goes FÉRAL, OMÉGAVERSE AU, overstím, knots, MARATHONS, making him cúm blanks, MATÍNG BÍTES, cúmplay, first times (Choso), pússydrúnk Choso, oraI (fem), proposals, p talking, pet names, swéaring. 

Word count. 8.1k

A/N. Hope you have a lovely week <3

“Open up f’me, beautiful.”

Choso Kamo was approximately four seconds away from kicking down your front door and tearing your apartment down in search of you. Or, at least, he would be if he didn’t know how much you’d huff at him afterwards.

Because it’s not everyday that his precious best friend wakes him up at 3AM with a hazy, six-second call. Mumbling nothing but an adorably sleepy “Cho— come over?” 

So what if Choso had instantly thrown on the first t-shirt he saw and broken about seven traffic violations on his motorbike here? 

“Come on, come on-” he’s hissing underneath his breath. Weight shuffling nervously between his two feet, he raps on your door once more. Twice. Thrice. “D-don’t make me use that spare key again.”

It was a half-threat - really, it was. 

But the louder your answering silence grew, the tighter his fingers curled around his own metallic key. Breathing out a low, “I’m- I’m coming in.” And slowly - ever-so-slowly - he’s cracking your door just an inch open before-

Oh. 

Oh. 

It hits Choso like a wave - hard enough to knock him down onto his knees. 

“What-” he’s gasping, heaving. Words tumbling out drunkenly in rasping ahs! that he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t even register the bright, blossoming pain sweeping his knees with the way his lungs felt like they were scorching - and Choso just couldn’t get enough. 

It wasn’t a new candle of yours, and Choso already memorized every one of your perfumes for this to be one. This was just so…carnally sweet. 

He was drinking in every drop, every ounce, every waft of that candied air inside your cozy apartment like he couldn’t breathe if it wasn’t that.

And something in the sugary scent makes Choso twitch. 

Oh, shit. 

Hastily swiping away a translucent mess of drool that’d somehow made its home by the rosy corner of his mouth, he’s straining out once more. For his sanity, more than anything. “Beautiful? Anyone home?”

Still no answer. 

Absolutely nothing. 

It takes him a few more sloppy seconds swimming his melty mind to even consider stumbling back up onto his two unsteady feet. Blinking away the bleary film over his gaze, Choso slams! your door shut with the back of his foot - cutting off the heady perfume from emanating into the corridor. 

Noise complaints from your neighbors be damned - he’ll apologize to them all personally later. 

But right now, something about the way that mysterious essence was all his, his, his scratched at such a dangerously primal itch in his brain. 

Shit- what was he even thinking?

Choso was here for you and only you. 

He’s running a jittery few digits through the sweat-dampened valleys of his hair, tugging in a stinging little pull to try and snap some sense back into him. Clearing the strangled mess in his throat, Choso smacks! his palms against his burning cheeks before calling out once more, “I’ll be coming in–”

Because it’s not as if Choso’s never been in here before - he has. Many, many times, in fact. And during every one of those hangouts you’d made it a point to pout about how he should really “let loose” and treat this home as if it was his own, too. 

Honestly, it was hard to feel anything but comfortable after knowing each other for so long - even despite those embarrassing, mushy feelings that he always drowned in around you. 

But that was a conversation for another time. 

And right now, Choso couldn’t even dream of any “comfort” when every step deeper into the saturated cloud of scent made Choso gulp. Every blink had his eyes watering even more - and his pants- fuck- Choso’s biting down on his rawly worried lower lip, eyes flickering anywhere but where he could feel his achy cock stirring. 

Something about this smell was so…hypnotic. 

And if he didn’t know any better then he’d have sworn he was practically floating down that familiar pathway to your bedroom. Feet padding down anxiously along the mahogany-covered floors, it was becoming so much harder and harder to breathe in the fragrant air without getting fucking addicted.  

Or, Choso swallows, one arm balanced on the wall, the other feeling for his thundering pulse. He probably already was. 

But what if you were sick? What if you needed help? Fuck, if he didn’t live every waking moment dancing along to your heartbeat.

That is, when he hears it. That.

Filtering from inside your bedroom…a moan. ”Ch-Choso–”

.

.

.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

You didn’t know what you were thinking, forgetting to take your monthly dosage of suppressants - you’d blame it on all the time you’d been spending studying for finals with Choso lately, but you’d never put the fault on your sweet best friend like that.

After all, he was a fellow omega like you at the end of the day. Right? 

“Fuck” You’re scrambling to clasp onto a sodden sweatshirt of his on your bed, nose burying into the slightly sunny vanilla scent. You knew it was wrong to think about him this way, you knew it was made even worse considering his second gender. But- but fuck, if he didn’t have your hands slipping and sliding guiltily down towards the slick-lathered spot between your legs. Concentrated puffs of heat stifling from between your lips, “Ch-Choso–”

Honestly, you wanted him so badly you could reach over for your phone and call-

No, no, no, no - your fatigued eyes flick over to the winking clock by your bedside. 3:26AM.

You couldn’t call him over for help now. Choso was so sweet that he’d probably rush over in his pajamas and rack up a fair few tickets on his motorbike. 

Which was why you preferred to spend your heats without his help - it had been that way since you’d both presented back in high school. 

You’d met Choso after your family had moved to the cutest little suburb in Tokyo, stumbling across the tiny boy-next-door with wide honeypool eyes and a chubby hand that waved shyly your way. Even at the wise old age of eight, you remember thinking how he was so pretty. 

Pretty enough that something your health teacher had taught in your last school clanged throughout your mind - this boy was probably an ah…what was the word? Omega. 

A quiet, comfortable understanding - and it wasn’t something that the two of you never quite had to talk about too in-depth. At least, outside of sneaking the answers to pop quizzes on secondary genders, and giggling when another classmate sauntered to school with a garish bitemark on their neck. 

But, often, you wondered whether you’d ever see Choso with that type of mark. 

He never looked at another alpha - not even another omega, or beta, for that matter. You knew that society was stepping towards a more accepting environment for rather “unconventional” pairings - but Choso Kamo seemed well and firmly intent on rejecting every single one of them. 

Instead, staying by your side. Unpaired. 

Even when he followed you all the way to university - two peas in a pod, so tightly intertwined that most wondered whether you two were mated for life. And he never bothered to disagree - but then again, neither did you.

Even when the years treated him well and he grew so tall, so unfairly attractive. All prettily timid smiles, glinting piercings marrying his ears, and dark, droopy eyes tinged with the slightest kiss of dark eyeliner. Rivalling even the most cocky alphas on your entire campus with his sheer stature and ambience. 

Like he was right now. 

Towering at the very edge of your unlatched bedroom door. 

And only one word registers in your mind - alpha. 

Choso - a Choso that was so utterly real and in the flesh - jumps once those startled syllables spill from your mouth. 

Fuck, you didn’t even realize you said that out loud. 

Not until he’s slamming! one massively spayed-out palm by the side of your doorframe. Shattered pieces of wood crumbling beneath him, you’re unabashedly ogling the flex of his curvaceous biceps. Another hand covering the lower half of his handsome face, Choso rasps. He whines, “You called, m-my omega?”

Oh.

Your entire shivering body bolts upright, like you were being electrified with a thousand voltages of bliss that make your drooling cunt gush. Treacly wafts of pheromones clouding out from you all over again - and the look on Choso’s face is just drunk.

Thick lids so heavy that they were practically falling half-closed, it’s as if his entire body was flushed a prespired red. Lips all ruddied and laminated thinly with spit, his teeth were drawn back into such a wild snarl. 

Like he was about to tear something into bits and it might be you.

So…pretty. 

It almost hurts you to dart your eyes away in an urgent glance at your suspiciously open call log - did you…really call him in your haze? Fuck. 

“Y-you’re-” You swallow a few times - and even then, the words don’t come to you. They can’t. Too stuck on what a delicacy your best friend looked all slumped over by your doorway like he was begging for you. Like he’d crawled all his way to you and would do it all over again. “You’re an alpha, Cho?”

As if you had any doubt now. You could smell the sheer power on him, the thrumming strength threatening to rip through that clingy white undershirt of his. So transparently thin that you could still count every ridge of his washboard abs. And his velvety black boxers hung low-

“Shit-” he gulps. “Yes- fuck! Y-you’re an omega?” 

You can only nod. Brows raising when Choso plants another slam right onto your doorframe, indenting all slender lanes of his digits onto it this time. “And is that…mine?”

With a sudden inhalation, you’re snatching behind that sweatshirt of Choso’s that you’d still been holding. Heart thumping - but there was nothing more to say. What could you say?

Turns out, Choso is the first to break. “L-Let me prove it.”

You’re blinking, squeezing your thighs together at the bittersweet throb. You didn’t know what had your honeyed head reeling more - the sudden reveal of Choso’s secondary gender, or his answer. His sheer need. “Prove it?”

Choso’s head hangs low, chestnut bangs covering his greedy gaze, but you could tell that he was looking at you. Really, really looking at you. 

Words dripping with something you’d never heard of before. Hoarse. Tight. “Can I…can I come in, beautiful?”

You know you should say no to letting him inside your nest - you know it. 

But oh, how it looked like it was taking him every shred of will to keep standing there. To not fucking collapse at the way your gooey pheromones have him spellbound. And he likely would have had it not been for your small, trembling answer, “Yes.”

Choso whimpers - if there was ever a singular moment that would have him crawling back from the afterlife just to re-experience all over again, then it would be this. 

When he feels something in the back of his mind switch.

Senses sharpening almost painfully with one step inside your humid bedroom. Two. 

Until Choso’s stalking so languidly towards you like a predator cornering his prey, foot by foot. He takes his dreamy time prowling towards you - all the way up until your flushed best friend is looming across the foot of the bed.

There’s something vicious in his eyes. Something that has him salivating, “Can- can I?”

You’re breathing out, “Y-yes.”

Slow, sultry fingers unfurl out to draw a steady line along your ankle - he walks. Fingers blazing up your twitchy thighs, up your drenched excuse of shorts, up, up, up to smear that delirious line of your dribble. 

“T-tell me what you want, beautiful.” He pecks an innocent kiss on your forehead, then another to your throat - heaving in your perfumed air. “Anything- I’ll give ya hah- anything.”

His words are low. Hot against your face. 

And just about the only thing you can do is slither your unsteady hands down to toy with the hem of your pants. A sight that makes Choso swallow thickly with a rasping grunt. 

“I want you to…” you’re trailing off. Fingers dipping down to where you haven’t been able to satisfy for hours now. Your inner omega yelling - screaming that nothing was enough, but he might just be. “-touch me here, Cho.”

SWAT!

Instantly, you’re letting off a saccharine mewl at the way your hand is being oh-so-rudely thwacked away by one of Choso’s own. The slight sting throbbing - but not as much as your poor cunt is when meeting his digits. 

Sliding just between your cottony shorts- oh? Choso’s heart stutters. No panties? You really are going to be the death of him. He’s lingering a dewy stroke down your teary slit, honeying his ringed fingers in all your slick juices. 

For a second - just a second.

Lightning-fast, Choso’s trailing away with a slew of spatters left behind, and it makes his skin feel ten times hotter. Ten times dirtier in only the best way.

Even more so when those very digits end up slipping easily into Choso’s mouth. One by one.  Eyes trained darkly on yours, his long pinkish tongue ends up lazily lathering up and down up and down up and down every beaded gleam of your juices.

“Y-you’re so-” your voice cracks embarrassingly - pathetically, in a way that makes every copious ounce of blood in his body sprint south. “-filthy.”

Pulling off with a waterlogged pop! Choso’s tongue probes between his two long fingers, smacking his lips open and shut with the sticky dredges. And you swear you catch a whiff of smugness in his scent. Yet, he’s blushing, “All for you- only for you, my girl.”

And you can’t even complain - you can’t even tease him about the way that just another mere touch up against your feverish pussypound has Choso gasping. Eyes crinkling with something like delight and sheer awe.

Because he’s crashing his mouth into yours, suckling on your lips like his favorite berry lolly-

“Sh-shit-” Choso’s rich tone cracks into shattering lilts, and you can hear him laugh against your lips. Laugh. Humorless and crazed - pure desperation bleeding out with every swash of his intoxicating vanilla scent. “Beautiful— you taste even sweeter than in my ngh- dreams, y’know that?”

No, you didn’t - you didn’t even know that Choso dreamed of you in the first place. 

And you don’t get to pay it any mind because before you know it, the swirling edge of his rounded fingertips tuck just past where your puffy folds were pursing in a ready pucker. Cold metal rings making you gasp.

And Choso’s greedily snuffing out the sound with a sinking bite of his sharpened canines into your wobbly bottom lip. Drinking in every noise from his pretty girl. His pretty girl. 

Cratering dimples notching prettily at the ends of his lipbite, he’s practically begging them out with every slow gyration of his fingertips around and around your peaked clit. Tracing over every tiny ridge and sensitive bundle like he was trying to fucking memorize it. “H-has any other- fuck-” Ringing out a thundering growl at the back of his throat that makes your skin coat in tiny goosebumps. “-has any- other- made you feel this good?”

No no no - your inner omega purrs, and you can practically feel yourself groaning lowly at the back of your throat when you pull away. 

Trying - failing, when Choso’s chasing your kiss-bitten lips like he was hooked. Slurring after the syrupy strings of spit that smear the traces of your mouth, he’s meshing his lips in a dramatic smooch. Again. And again. And again and again-

��L-look how wet ya are…” And it wasn’t even a command, but you can’t help lolling your head down to blink at the way his pale wrist was glistening with all your laminated juices. Musing, “Gonna make ya feel so fuckin’ good. So good.”

Two deft fingers pinch your clit. Hard.

“Ah! N-no!” Your spine bends into such a pretty curve off the bed, perfectly in position for Choso to slide his massive palm underneath and massage away your tensely knotted back. Your fingers are trekking up the clamoring hike onto his broad deltoids to feel the droolworthy jolt of his back muscles. Babbling belatedly, “N-no other alpha has made me feel s-so…”

So…what?

Hypnotized? Addicted? Gone?  

But whatever it was, the sight of you being ruined into a few shattered jumbles of limbs is enough to make Choso’s alpha hum. 

Whispering out, “Can I…” And with a steep inhale of the thick surrounding air, he’s gulping. “C-can I-”

Before you’re gracing him with an answer, you’re helping inch those sleep shorts down. Snailing an almost-blasphemous slicked coat that seeps into your skin. He’s twirling his thumb over the remaining excess left behind - not wasting a single drop. 

And it takes only one saturated hit from where your pheromones were the most concentrated - only one shy peak down at your drooling cunt - before Choso can feel his mind shattering. Gasping. 

The top half of his body all but collapsing on top of yours.

It’s not even on purpose the way he flinches at the thick curve of your thumb floating upwards to tenderly glide away the swab of drool that was flooding Choso’s mouth right now. 

His neat brows quirking upwards, heaving chest choppy - you’re so lustily trapped against the bumped-up planes of his pecs. Feeling the rumble of his heated words, “I-I’ve never…” 

Sounding so utterly worn-out already, Choso’s planting a few firm pecks at the corner of your chin. He’d meant for it to reach your lips - but he couldn’t. Too in a trance to even think about it. And as if to make up for it, he’s kissing your neck, the valley of your thighs, your tummy. Every and any inch he hasn’t been blessed with reaching for the past few years. 

Shuffling all the way until he was practically lips to lips with your sloshing pussy, eyeing down directly at the way your sloppy entrance was welcoming him with another fresh bout of clingy slick. Choso heaves in a long breath.

“Been waitin’ a looong time f’you, y’know? Can I make a mess?” Choso’s whining sweetly, greedy gaze still trained firmly downwards. Tenderly rubbing over your glossed-up folds, “Can I m-make you break?” And those grasping begs of his are barely even audible over the sheer squelching resonating from your slobbery pussy. Your jaw falls slack at how they only make Choso nod. “Y-you’re right- s-so right–”

Talking. And before you know it, the filthiest French kiss is being placed right on your cunt. 

He’s not even hesitating, not even easing you into it - because Choso Kamo has waited so long for this. And he was going to have his fill.

“This is what y-you taste like- this good?” Dragging the very pointed tip of his pretty button nose down your plump clit, he’s smushing it in place with a firm kiss at the very edge of your snug hole. “Th-think this cute cunt can take my fuckin’ cock, beautiful?”

So fucking impatient. 

You’re tangling one set of fingers into the stray strands of his hair, bucking up to drag a slow glide down the lower half of his pretty face. 

And, usually, with an alpha you could be expected to be snapped at with a snarling command. An instruction to just stay put. 

But Choso’s only letting his sharp jaw comfy against the silken sheets, head nuzzling drunkenly into your thighs when you’re pushing and pulling him as you please. Leveraging the vice-like grasp on his scalp to drive steady grinds just the way you like it. 

Whining, “Need you so bad, baby–” 

“Yeah- yeah, use me-” Choso snickers around a teasing bite against the fattened edge of one of your pussy lips. Sucking. “R-reach your pretty high on my face, omega- need you to cum all over me till I-I’m dripping.”

Fuck.

Was this really your nervous, sweet best friend? His words were so dirty, as if he didn’t even realize he was saying them. And they almost make you embarrassed. Shying way just an inch-

“Oh- no. No no no-”  His words come buzzing around your clit, and with a final bite of his elongated canines, Choso’s frantic. He’s scrambling. He’s grasping his powerful arms to loop your thighs and dragging you to him like some ragdoll down the protestingly creaky bed. “S’gonna go to waste- can’t- can’t let it.”

And it’s only about then that you’re dredging up the courage to angle your head further downwards - immediately hit with the sinful sight of Choso in heaven between your limp legs. 

His hair a disheveled curtain, eyes narrowed and smudged with eyeliner. Damply bleeding down onto the regal apples of his high cheekbones at the way your meady slick was reaching his blushing cheeks. It masks his coral pink lips, his jaw, his fucking chin. 

So sopping wet that it’s forming a little puddle down below him that Choso could never even imagine being disgusted by. No, in fact, he was disappointed with himself for not lapping it up even sooner. 

Pumpish lips jutting out in a pout, Choso’s pushing away the hair from his eyes sexily. “Wh-why are you runnin’ away- don’t run away, my girl.”

With a slight giggle, you’re veering your scent to tinge with something comforting. And oh, does it do the trick - because Choso’s eyes swoop downwards drunkenly. Almost closed, almost ruined, he’s huffing out a drawled-out mantra of your name, “Lock it.”

“Wh-what?” You’re choking out.

Soft palms massage gently down your legs, wrapping them around the back of his head. “Lock it.”

Oh.

That was a command, and it has your body pulling taut. Every sensory spot all down your skin screaming to obey - yet, this is something you would have done anyway. Ankles tying together, it’s jostling Choso’s hotly open mouth against your pussy so deeply that you wonder whether he doesn’t have to breathe. 

Whether he doesn’t even want to. 

Because your dear best friend looks so satisfied to die right in the heaven between your legs right now. And he would go such an utterly happy man, too. 

Rosy red lips rubbing rawly against your clit, you’re left a puddle of a needy mess when the roughened tastebuds of his tongue swirl in meticulous little circles. Cheeks hollowing as he sucks, your whines can’t even be heard over the most oozy squelches.

“Heheh- she’s talkin’ back ta me-” Choso’s sputtering out peck after peck. In awe. “She’s talking. Th-think she wants ngh- more.”

More. 

More, more, more. 

Choso’s beginning to think that your dripping pussy’s speaking for himself with the way that’s exactly what he wants right now. Teasing the mushy outer lips of your puckered hole with his fat fingerpads, before bullying in. Inside. 

You’re taking him so well - hips careening even further downwards when he’s feeding your greedy cunt with every long inch of his digits. Slow enough that you could count it - just about six, ringed inches all the way to his knuckles. 

Shit- it’s so hot inside, as if your pretty pussy was practically melting around him. Molding to his every shape as Choso’s driveling swirling around in rummaging little stripes down your gummy walls. Slow. Slick. 

Slender cylindrical intrusions that bump up deftly against your battered g-spots. The chilling stretch of his banded metal rings was too much. Your eager cunt is splattering out a pornographic little gush of your sweet, sweet juices all over again at the way he’s teasingly fondling over that magical spot. 

“J-jus’ a little higher, baby–” you’re spewing out. Deprived. 

And oh, Choso’s darkened eyes are practically lighting up. He doesn’t pull away from your bruised clit to answer - not even to breathe before vibrating out a keening, “Here?”

So desperate. 

Even needier than you. 

You’re blinking through large, globular tears that occupy the space behind your lids. Nodding, “A little more- jus- oh!”   

And Choso didn’t need to hear it from your lips. Hell, he didn’t even need to hear it from the way your snug channel was all but milking his fingers dry. Clinging on in a soppy kiss when he’s probing into your g-spot harder. Meaner. Because the way your intoxicating scent changes - concentrating ever-so-slightly makes Choso realize that you’re cumming before even you register it.

Slamming headfirst into your high, you’re plowing out a belated cry of “I- fuck- m’cumming, Cho. M’cumming, m’cumming-”

Sparks of white splinter your vision, and your knees find themselves just wrenching free from the lecherous comforts of the bed - but Choso won’t let you escape so easily. 

No. 

Barely batting an eye, he’s straining his biceps deadlocked around your legs. Pinning you to the bed until you could barely squirm, barely do anything but take his punishing little clashes against your g-spot head-on. Bumping in. Over and over. 

Choso suckles on your clit like his favorite little gummy, stretching and nibbling until you see stars with your orgasm. 

“Don’t run away-” he’s puffing out into your cunt, the very idea of parting with drizzling pussy making him yelp out a pained grunt. “P-please don’t run away- I promised to make a mess. O-one more f’me, beautiful?”

You’re just molten at his touch. Ravenous and overwhelmingly greedy for you as much as you were for him. Something carnal inside you screaming for more-

“H-hear her?” His eyes are drifting closed at the pulpy little noises your cunt mashes on. Dangling ear piercings twinkling when he’s leering even closer to hear. “Tellin’ me she’s gonna give her- hngh- alpha one more.” Fuck, Choso’s features decorate with the most blazing blush at his own words. How embarrassing. “Wontcha use my mouth all over again? I didn’t get fuuuuck- messy ‘nough last time…”

And as if to prove his point, Choso traces a slow glide of his worked tongue across the sloppily wet coating that drips down his lips. Just for a second.

Your veins bubble sensitively with need at the broken whine sounding from the back of Choso’s throat when you drag him even snugger between your legs. Puffs of leaky pheromones driving the two of you wild, making your hips stutter out a slurring pace up and down his face. 

“Th-this pussy is all f’me- isn’t it, my girl? S’all f’me?”

Even sloppier once you battle out a nod.  

Your cunt is extra slobbery because of your heat anyways, but Choso’s making such a mess on purpose. 

Eyes running away to the back of his head, tongue lolling out even messier. He’s planting such dousing draws of saliva, lathering your sweet spots mercilessly. And his fingers- oh, his fingers were relentless. Shovelling up in solid, wet nudges until you’re able to feel every circular indent of his digits on your g-spot. 

Every run of his manicured nails across where you’re sure you were beginning to get bruised. And every-so-often whenever his eyes glaze green with raw greed - with slight, stupid jealousy over his fingers - you’d peek at Choso plunging his digits into his mouth and sucking.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Matching the lecherous sound of your thundering heartbeat, you can feel yourself squeal at the overstimulating touches. Sobbing out the cutest little whines that make Choso chuckle, “Easy– easy there, my girl.” Letting your cunt free with a sodden pwah! only to spit. Once. Twice. A sticky wad of his thick saliva that blusters its way to coat your puffy pussy lips, “You’re cumming again, right? A-all over my face?”

You’re nodding - nodding and nodding so hard, but that wasn’t enough for Choso Kamo. 

He wasn’t satisfied until a slow pull of your clit right from between his pearly whites had you bawling out. The backs of your hands dipping upwards to hide your face - which he quickly, and calculatedly spanks away with his free hand. “M’gonna cum soon- ngh- please- Cho- don’ stop.”

Hah, if this was any other time then Choso might’ve laughed. 

Might’ve teased you until you were begging for him in that cute voice once more. But maybe it’s the way his alpha was clawing at his chest from the insides to give you whatever you want, maybe it was the way seeing you fall apart on your heat like this all over him had his cock twitching-

Because Choso only smiles - drunk. Dazed. “Cum f’me, p-please. Ruin me, ma’am..”

He was ruined alright. 

Absolutely sugar-coated with your overlaying juices - it’s dripping down his bed and disappearing into the now see-through fabric of his undershirt like a badge of honor. A badge to say that he’s made you cum for the second time on his mouth. 

That he’s made you squirt. 

Splattering out all over his face with every slurping taste - and yet, Choso still couldn’t get enough. Sweeping up the milky droplets, Choso’s boring his heady gaze right into your widened eyes when he’s leering his mouth agape to make you spy the way each splash slides down his throat. 

God- you’re seeing white all over again. You’re seeing spots, having you gulp in necessary gasps of the soiled air to once more regain your steady heartpace. 

“Ch-Choso-” you’re struggling, voice brittle and gone. Frantically trying to haul - to force - Choso from his favorite home between your cunt, to stop his greedy tongue. “S’enough- can’t cum anymore can’t- ngh-”

“But, beautiful–”

Shit- it would be so easy to get swept up all over again. Because Choso was parched, and he was still far from having his fill. 

Words tinting with a slightly commanding tone, you’re making something dark and primal rear its head when you manhandle him upwards with one hand in his locks, and another on his undershirt. So heavy but pliant. 

Up, up, up-

“Choso–” you’re mumbling out. And before you know it, Chosos hands had toppled you over into the cushiony mattress, and yours were tracing the edge of his too-tight boxers. Tugging. Needy. “I-I want these- off-”

“Anything.” He’s echoing, like it was all that he could right about now. Dewey brows scrunching up into something of a beg, you’re catching the way his Adam’s apple bobs. Deprived. “Anything f-for you-”

Fuck- in your currently woozy state you’re not sure if Choso removed his pants or if he ripped them off. Stumbling and tripping to let the few scarce tatters droop into the floor in a sullen pile. 

With a gulp, your fingers skitter across the planes of his useless undershirt - letting his pretty, bulging muscles peek out at you from underneath when you slide them off of him. Palms smearing in gluttonous little touches across his push pecs, down his rippling abs, down that lusciously dark happy trail and oh-

“S-something the matter, beautiful?” Choso’s heaving in a struggling gulp at the way your gorgeous eyes widen, maw slacking into a soft oh! Head tilting innocently, “M’your hah- best friend, you can tell me a-anythin’.”

“You’re just so…” Comes the whirling answer, your voice slow and alcoholic. He was getting drunk on your words already. “...big.”

Not only was Choso big - he was massive. 

The fat, rotund circle of his head ruddied a strawberry pink, gradiating all the way down his shaft to meet blend into his creamy base. He was so hard that it looked painful, visibly throb! throb! throbbing, bumpy lightning bolts of his veins hammering up at you cheekily. He was so pretty - thick enough that you’re feeling your cunt clench already. Even the burn of your stare has Choso’s reddish divot weeping out a few ropey spurts of pre. Making you dizzy with the incredible size and that musky vanilla scent of his. 

And was that-

Oh. Fuck.

It was.

Through the honeyed slew of precum pooling at Choso’s thick tip, you’re gasping at the slight wink of something metallic. 

Without thinking - without even breathing - you’re drifting your hand down to thumb those syrupy globules thin. Discovering the absolute treasure chest that was a studded Prince Albert’s piercing right near the weepy edge of Choso’s shaft. 

“I got if for- you- Gotta a-another one, y’know-” His gentle rasp jolts you out of your sinful reverie, engulfing hands guiding your own to wrap around his flushed tip and peek under. Right on the slippery sliver of his slit, “A ngh- matching one. Th-thought you might like it…”

Oh- two. 

And, embarrassingly, you can feel the way your scent turns headier. Hypnotizing. Enough so that Choso can’t help the way he’s hanging by a bare thread, head falling into the crook of your neck to breathe in. “Y-you act so innocent but…” 

“But m’only l-like this for you.” He’s tucking your tender earlobe between his teeth. “P-promise. I haven’t even…”

Ah, a virgin. 

Sweet and absolutely gifted. 

And something about it was so cute the way Choso was acting exactly like it. Every wordless toy of your fingers up and down his sensitive glans, making him snarl a lipbite. Girthy length fucking up in shuddering slams into the cushiony tunnel of your palm. Weightily muscled abs flexing with heat when you’re running a thumb under his head to press down on that silver piercing. 

“S-so tiny- heh- your pretty hands are so tiny takin’ my cock, beautiful.” he’s giggling - giggling. Perspiration-simmered forehead knocking into yours, Choso’s letting his tired head loll there and bore into your eyes. “You needa ngh- fuck! Needa slow down, my girl, m’already so close jus’ from making out with yer sweet c-cunt out.” Already close. Just from eating you out. “Else m’n-not gonna be able to control it-”

“I can handle it–” you’re pouting stubbornly. Soft digits clenching even tighter around his cock, and shit, Choso lets his head fall into the junction between your shoulder and your neck. 

Finding himself growing more needy. More feral. Tight, hot curdling in his stomach building up and up.

“M’serious.” His lilting voice breaks, teeth skimming over the pulpy flesh of your sweetened pheromone glands. Nibbling. His incredibly shaky fingers wrap around your shoulders, “Please- ngh- please m’gonna break ya.”

And it’s like you wanted him to.

Dick twitching at those filthy fingers of yours - the way they only pump him faster. And faster. Tighter around the hefty base, more teasing up the slippery slope of his tip - like you were trying to milk out something delicious. 

And you can already feel the way your mouth lathers with a fresh coating of saliva, face inching closer and closer to the bawling peak of his swollen cock. Wanting oh-so-badly to taste the silver of his Prince Albert’s. 

“But I want you to, Cho.”

SMACK!

You’re left stupidly stunned when Choso’s behemoth palm coils like a tight shackle around your tender throat. Pulling you away from his achy cock in a flash, you’re being thrown around like his own personal ragdoll. 

And Choso snickers at the way you’re bouncing cutely on the plush mattress, legs drooping wider and wider agape with every sleazy second he really can’t help but leer over you. Wrangling those boneless legs of yours over his shoulder with a sharp click of his tongue. 

“I-I already told you, beautiful–” he’s bending down, down down to nose along your sweat-dotted cheeks, your skin stark hot against the icy chain of his silver necklace. Chest grumbling with a slight purr. “M’gonna make such a mess of you- can I?”

And that drunken look in Choso’s eyes made him look like he would absolutely shatter if you let your lips shape into a teasing no right about now. Like those warm, salted tears spattering from the corners of his half-lidded eyes and right onto your cheeks would only hasten. 

“Can I- please, my girl- jus’ wanna-” His lips wobble adorably when his sobbing cock glides a slow line between the mushy lips of your pussy. A graze for a graze of his mouth down your own. “-wanna make you mine.”

And just the tip - just a single fat inch shoved into your gummy hole is all it takes for Choso to whimper. 

You’re brushing over his precious cheek, “Ch-Cho, are you okay?”

And Choso can’t answer - hell, he doesn’t think he could even if he wanted to. Because that gushing little clench of your clingy walls all around his sodden wet tip absolutely ruins him. Delicate rivulets of slobber streaming down the smiling edges of his tongue, he’s puffing out an open-mouthed, “No- fuck- d-do I look okay?”

He didn’t.

He seemed like he was burning up - fucked-out already, practically. Pecs rippling with a bolting flex, muscled body shirking with violent shivers when with a low keen of your name - Choso’s cumming. 

“No-” he’s crying out, head flailing backwards. Just from putting it inside for the first time. “No no no no- m’not s’pposed to- yet-”

But he was. Hips recklessly meandering again and again into yours - slight, tugging grinds of just his thickened tip like Choso was afraid of sinking into your heavenly pussy anymore. Like he knew it would break him even more. 

Have him flooding out voluminous ribbons of thick seed, splattering against your spongy channel, and smearing around in dripping vertical patterns with every one of his animalistic ruts. 

“Give it t’me–” you’re locking your ankles even tighter. Prattling out such filthy nonsense that you’re sure you’d get embarrassed about had you not been in your heat. “I-I need your cum, baby- wan’ it allll inside me-”

“Ngh-” Choso’s letting off a broken sound at the back of his throat, squeezing your own with that one hand of his happily making its home there. Blocking off your airway, your heady pheromones only struggle to waft out even more. Saturating. “D-don’t talk like that- n-not outta ya pussy, beautiful.”

“But I w-ngh! want it-”

He gulps, “A-are you sure?” Because this is his best friend - this is the one person he’d never even dreamt of having because that was too dangerous. Too fanciful. The one person he’d written about in every diary, and gotten teased for it by his family just the same. Perfect. 

Yet, you’re so stubborn when you’re in heat. “Mhm– wan’ you to…breed me.”

And he loved it.

Couldn’t get enough of it - or you. 

Choso’s scrambling up one of his jostling hands to latch your hips into a perfect almost-semicircle. Lower lip worried underneath his canines when he’s wiping his fat thumb over the dewdrops of seed treacling from your soppy slit. 

That digit finds its way rummaging between your lips, “Lock it.”

This time, you don’t need it said twice - you don’t even need it to be a command.

Because Choso’s reigning up his own hand to pin both your ankles behind his head, and you think you’ll forever remember just how hot he looked this way. Biceps bulging with the strain, simmering with a slick sheen of perspiration, and his hips-

Oh, it’s like any and every slip of restraint in Choso’s hulking body snapped. 

Because with a loud, saturated squelch! you’re being filled up to what it feels like your lungs with every solid inch of his engorged girth. Inflating your tender insides, buttering your poor cervix with a thick stream of pre when he’s kissing it with a wet thwack!

“Oh- oh.” Choso’s head pushes into the crook of your neck, into your pillow until you were sure that it was soaked with tears of absolute bliss. “Th-this feels nothing l-like my ngh- hand. S’so much more heavenly-”

Yet, you weren’t in the right state of mind to be paying attention to the utter filth that was spilling from your innocent best friend’s mouth. Breath choking up in a lead ball in your throat, you whisper, “Ch-Cho…s’that your knot?”

Your slicked-up folds puckering up in a wet snog against the overinflated ring ballooning around his thick base. The sheer thumping circumference of it makes you squeeze-

“Y-yes–” he’s humming out. The sodden base of his cock thwack! thwack! thwacking your bruising entrance when he’s rutting in and out. Sloppy. Slow. Still trying not to see stars. “God- s’even softer than I ngh- imagined.”

And soft you were. 

This is what your sweet pussy felt like? This good? This should be fucking illegal, he was babbling out - but wouldn’t realize until much, much later. 

Being spearheaded open with every unapologetic rifle to fill you up, the leftover dredges of Choso’s seed trickle a slippery pathway leading him to ambush your g-spot head on. Stubbing his cool metal piercing into your sweetened bullseyes so hard, you swear you could feel the indenting divot of that sinful Prince Albert’s.

“There?” Mesmerized, his eyes grow wide. “R-right there?”

And he’s hot - so feverish. 

Glissading body on top of yours burning up with radiating heat, fracturing our rationality just as much as the sweet vanilla scent of his pheromones were. That tiny heart friendship charm on his necklace hitting your collarbones in a dirty staccato. 

You can feel yourself start to drool with how stupid Choso’s cock was fucking you, curling a few neat raking lines down his statuesquely muscled back. It makes him just arch his cock even deeper to jostle your snug insides riotously. 

“I-imagined about me a lot?” Ah, you’re finding it in yourself to smirk.

Something that Choso’s jackhammering out in quick, increasingly sloppy juts of his hips. Slathering the entirety of his cock with your slicked juices. 

“O-of course.” He’s shifting his eyes gingerly away from yours with a boyish blush. But now that Choso had started talking, he couldn’t stop. “Always wan’ed to f-fuck you through a rut or h-heat like this- to-” Couldn’t keep from hiking up a flattened foot to angle his pierced cockhead into every untouched inch inside you. The special upright curve of his shaft driving you mad. “-to absolutely ruin you and-” The hand at your legs hover right over where he was plummeting your insides with gluey kisses - your womb. “-and make you mine. Ours.”

Ours. 

God, just the mere act of confessing those embarrassing little words had Choso’s hulking body practically melting into yours. 

It’s like his abs were made of adhesive, massaging up and down your front. Drowning you into the plethora of wrecked sheets and him when he’s collapsing on top of you - but still going. Still placing pound after pound. 

“I-I want that too-” And you think you hear Choso sharply gasp, but you can’t confirm over your popping ears. “Always wanted it- ah- wanted you to fuck a baby into me, Cho.”

SLAM!

The slowly-splintering bedframe creaks when one particularly harsh rut has the headboard slamming into the wall behind. 

And that’s all he needed to hear. 

A baby - he wants a baby. He needs one - and this wasn’t just his alpha talking - and he was going to get it.

All that Choso thinks he ever could hear all through his honeyed mind for the rest of his life. Replaying it over and over in his mind like his favorite catchy tune. 

You don’t miss the way that he looks so in love above you, gaze practically heart-eyed and gone. Choso’s raw, swollen lips meteor shower your face with peck after peck - just in time with the collisions of his rounded tip into your sweet spots. 

“Boy or girl?”

“H-huh?” you’re questioning, barely-lucidly. 

“Boy or girl.”

And after those senseless little answers are falling from your lips, Choso’s brushing a hand over your lower tummy. Pushing. Hard. Until his twitchy knot was covered in buttery residues of cum, “Ah- a-always wan’ed a daughter with ya first. With your c-cute smile and ngh- eyes.”

Huffing out an embarrassed, “Choso.”

And he’s only scooping back in the leaky sediments of seed that he’s responsible for making a mess of. Turning a slow thumb right over your tight ring of muscle, “Gonna have my- ngh- style of course, heh- you’d be the best momma. D-don’t care if you’re my best friend, m’gonna breed ya until you’re overspilling, beautiful.”

You needed it so badly. Your heat turning up a notch until it felt like you were boiling from the inside out, candied scent drifting more. 

He’s giggling out, dark lashes batting without his permission. “M’gonna- ngh- take care of you-”. The hand caressing your elastic entrance flies upwards to get cleaned off by his own tongue - before prying your jaw sagging open to spit. “Goood fuckin’ care. N’ hopefully you’ll end up p-pregnant…hopefully.”

He’s encircling the dip in your waist and dragging you forwards to smack against his washboard abs. Unable to squirm. Unable to run away. “Gonna be the p-prettiest momma- the ngh- most beautiful.” Other hand restricting your throat so cozily that your vision tinges with black, “Gonna be mine.”

And when you’re cumming, it’s with those exact words in mind.

The way your sopping walls were milking him for all he’s worth - so greedily - shoving Choso to tip over the edge, too. 

Choso’s letting his body sexily cave into yours, not breaking even a mere inch apart when he’s got you trapped and overfilled with every dollop of his cum icing your insides. And right now you could already feel the way your scents were mixing, the way Choso turns slightly cross-eyed- 

Before sharply turning to your glands and biting. 

Hard. 

His predatory canines break through your epidermis layer like butter, a crimson lipstain gushing from the wound and staining his lips a handsome rouge. 

And - only belatedly, once your omega’s snapping at you with her teeth bared - do you realize that it’s your turn to do the same. As if you would want any other. 

Locking your jaw to dig into his pale, dampish throat, Choso sucks in his cheek to muffle the slightest whine when you’re wringing him through every speck of bliss he could possibly ever feel in a lifetime. Furious cock stuttering out a few more lazy wisps of cum at the mingling feeling of finally being yours. 

“Not ‘nough-” He’s eyeing the leftover ring of cum painting his knot, “Can I fill ya up m-more? Please? Please- my girl.”

You’re pulling away with a woozy nod to rub your thumb over the dug indents of your teeth, gently soothing slow circles over the feral sting. 

Filling you up over and over with each pound, he’s fucking you into the mattress like he hates you. And he’s fucking you like every shuddering ram had a creamy ounce of cum pouring into your gummy walls. Glueing in wet splats against your g-spot, your cervix, like a second sloppy skin. 

Generous helpings of cum drifting into almost blanks-

“Heh- haaaah- y’know tha’s makin’ me still c-cum, beautiful.” Choso’s leaving sodden kisses on your own mark, your lips. “M’sorry m’sorry I- I can’t stop- I just- can’t.”

And it’s sheer animal nature in you that’s screaming at you that you don’t want him to stop until you’re sure it takes. That’s bending down a hand as much as deftly as possible to wrap around Choso’s slightly softening cock - that only tuts in impatience. 

“Wh-when I said inside-” You’re pumping his soaked base as much as possible, feeling the stiffening twitch at his tip buried inside you. “-I mean- inside-”

It’s like you’re being split-apart - like you couldn’t be any fuller if you tried. 

And, yet, only the very curvaceous top of Choso’s inflated knot had bullied its way in-between your lewdly stretched hole. Gaping a pathway so incredibly girthy that it makes you scrunch your brows, head tumbling backwards. 

“Oh- oh, my greedy, greedy girl.” But Choso doesn’t look one bit admonishing - not one bit. Slithering a hand down to your cunt, he’s steamrolling two thick pads of his fingers. Rubbing up against your squeamish walls, scissoring your tight entrance so amply open. “I can put it…inside. R-really, really inside?”

Oh, Choso doesn’t know what blessings he’s received in his past lives. But absolutely nothing could have prepared him for how swelteringly hot and cushy you were around his fat knot. 

Swallowing up the bulging circlet, plugging up your seeping slit safely so that you’re not spilling a single glutinous splotch of his cum. So that it will take. It’s such a tight fit. Such a burning stretch. You felt so full you could burst with every throb of his swollen knot probing your walls. 

Ah, you look so pretty this way.

And Choso’s half-wishing he had a camera to capture this moment. With his lips pressing a few syrupy kisses along every inch of skin he could reach. Somewhere near your tummy - so full and slightly inflated with the copious amounts of cum that were dumped inside you. 

He’s murmuring something drunken - something you probably weren’t even supposed to hear. But at the curious tilt of your head, your best friend chews over his lips nervously. 

And a giddy smile plasters across your face at the saccharine love in your best friend’s eyes - the way he was probably mulling over asking you out on a date. There was no turning back at this point, and your omega purred in agreement as you got ready to say yes. For him to say a sweetened- 

“Marry me.”

A/N. You show up at the next Itadori family dinner with a ring and Sukuna has an actual heart attack.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[yemmuis]

I live your headcanons, are you willing to make virgin Choso? Please, I’m on my knees 😔

virgin!choso who’s never been in a relationship before you, with no experience in anything but holding hands with little brother yuji probably. however, every time he sees you in something slightly revealing, or you say his name in a slightly whiny tone, or do anything, he has to excuse himself to the bathroom to jack off.

virgin!choso who stays as respectful as he can. he stands behind you on escalators, has an arm wrapped around you in cramped elevators, and on particularly windy days, he keeps his hand on your lower back, just so he can dip his hand down to keep your skirt down when the wind picks up. respectful, yes, but deep down he knows he’s selfish. of course he wants to protect you from lurking eyes! just so he can look at you the same way later.

virgin!choso who loves making out with you. after you teach him, he has his hands on your hips as he grinds up on your clothed pussy almost every day. he thinks you’re so cute, how your little tongue doesn’t stand a chance when he sloppily shoves his down your throat. he loves running his tongue along your canines, how they lightly prick him.

“stop, cho! you’re so weird,” you giggle as you lightly push him away.

he only wipes his mouth, yearning for more as he leans in again.

virgin!choso who accidentally starts fucking you when you two were watching a movie together on his couch. your cute little panties rubbing against his crotch, unknowingly creating a wet patch.you notice this right away, gasping as you felt his cock twitch under you. he humps up against your desperately, trying to chase undiscovered pleasure.

virgin!choso who’s delighted after you give him consent to have his head between your plump thighs, eye level to your clit. your panties are drenched, basically clinging to every curve and outline of your pussy. choso’s already drunk on you, pressing his nose up on your clit as he inhales, running his tongue along the wet patches as he gathers it. he feels nasty for doing something dirty to you. his sweet, caring girlfriend being so defiled by his dirty behavior.

virgin!choso who’s a grower, your eyes widening as he rubs the head of his huge cock up and down your clothed pussy. he’d honestly settle for just this if he could. he peels your panties off, relishing in the way strings of your arousal cling to the soaked panties. shoving them in his pocket, saving them for when you were going to be away for a while (he misses you after 10 minutes of not seeing you).

virgin!choso who fucks you in missionary, with your legs wrapped around his slutty waist as he drills his cock into you. his thrusts are messy, he’s holding back his orgasm in want of pleasuring you first.

“ffuck, cho, right there—yes, right there!”

“here, baby? y-you love it here, don’t-don’t you?”

he pressed on your little clit, making you whine in pleasure as he bullied your cervix.

virgin!choso who tries his best to pull out, but your cute little legs were locking him in!! he had no choice! he cums deep inside you, filling every crevice of your pussy with his cum. he collapses on top of you, a whiny, sensitive mess. it’s only when he feels you slightly squeeze around him a minute later that he’s hard again.

“please, baby? turn around for me?”