About me: (She/her) |21| Libra |~Greek~|Straight| moot: @lacedbells, @ppzraxlu ^^
My name is Angelina~! My favourite colour is Dark Green, Baby Pink and I love to read and eat food. I’m basically powered by coffee, matcha, autumn weather, and fictional men who would realistically ruin my life. My ideal morning is sitting by the window while it rains outside, wearing oversized sweaters, eating warm cookies (preferably the ones with Kinder Bueno chunks in them) straight from the tray, and rereading fanfics until my eyes hurt.
Most of my free time is spent obsessing over characters played by Jensen Ackles, especially Soldier boy because apparently I enjoy emotionally unavailable men with anger issues and a God complex. Very healthy hobby. Extremely normal behavior. I love cozy bookstores, dark green everything, candles that smell like cinnamon or vanilla, controversially older men and late night conversations that accidentally turn into therapy sessions.
I can go from acting calm and mature to giggling over the dumbest joke imaginable in under five seconds. If you ever need me, I’m probably curled up somewhere with a blanket, a matcha latte, and ten open tabs of fanfiction.
A/N: this has been on my mind all week... and deep isn't even my favorite character!! i hope this reaches some of his fans though. please enjoy!
Tags: headcanons, dub-con, overstim, p in v, coercion, oral (m receiving), slight watersports, choking and breathplay
Wordcount: 1k
Porn-brained Deep who refuses to ever use lube.
He doesn't believe in it, thinks it's a crutch, that it's insulting. "We don't need that, babe. I can get you wet enough by myself," he would say, giving your clit a smack. He would spit all over your pussy, just like they do in the dirty films he loses himself in at night.
When he finally aligns himself with your cunt and shoves his way in, he groans at the resistance. "Give it a second," he would say through clenched teeth, eyebrows pinching together. He fucks into you anyways, ignoring your pained whines. Once you adjust to his size and give up on trying to get him to stop, your body relaxes just a bit and your pussy forms a precious little creamy ring around his cock, slicking him up nice and good. "What'd I say, huh? Always getting wet for me."
Porn-brained Deep who grows obsessed with the idea of choking you during sex.
The girls in the videos he watches love it, so he tries it without warning. At first, his hand just wraps around your throat enough to hold you in place, keeping you anchored against the bed while he pummels his cock into you.
Unfortunately, he did zero actual research on safe breathplay and pushes down further on your throat, nearly crushing your windpipe. He sees the way you squirm and assumes it's because of how much you love it, so he adds his other hand, stupidly unaware of how strong he actually is.
"Fuck, your face is getting so red, baby. Must really like this." He shoves his tongue into your breathless mouth, stealing what little bit of air you have left. "Didn't know you were such a freak."
Porn-brained Deep who is personally offended when you can't squirt for him.
He takes it as a slight against him, as if he isn't fucking you well enough. He thinks squirting is just the female equivalent of ejaculating, so when you tell him you came but he didn't see you squirt, he thinks you're lying to save his feelings and he doesn't like that one bit.
He's folded your legs to your chest, pushing them the farthest they can go. One hand is planted on your lower belly, pushing down on where his cock is hitting, and the other is abusing your clit. "I'm not fucking pathetic, I don't need you to lie to me. I can make you cum whenever I want," he would say, mostly to himself, as you are a lost cause—nothing but a sobbing mess at this point.
"Can't do it anymore," you managed to shriek, feeling your eighth orgasm creep down your spine. It's not enough for him. It's not real if he can't see it. "Please, no more! F—fuck!"
He clamps his hand over your mouth to shut you up and lifts your lower body up with his other hand. This angle lets him hit even deeper, abusing the spot that aches for him. He's also managing to hit your bladder, too, though, and with each thrust, little sprays of piss leak out of your sore cunt.
"That's it," he would goad, pulling his dick out and smacking it against your sopping pussy. "You're gonna keep fuckin' squirting for me until I'm done. You've been holding out on me."
Porn-brained Deep who treats you like a doll.
He moves you in any position he wants, pulling and shoving you like you're weightless. If he wants you face down and ass up, then that's how he'll maneuver you. He rips your legs apart without a care, sliding himself between your thighs like it's his rightful place.
"Take it," he would coo. "Every inch, now. Don't squeeze me out."
He's rooted behind you, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, slamming into you at a murderous pace. When you try to catch your breath and lift your head, he smothers your face back into the pillow, using his foot on the back of your head.
He degrades you physically and praises you verbally, giving you whiplash and keeping you dizzy, drenched, and dumb on his cock.
Porn-brained Deep who doesn't let you swallow his cum.
When you blow him, he refuses to let you swallow. That's too clean, he wants you messy.
Sometimes, he makes you slowly drool it out so he can watch it pool down your neck and chest.
Sometimes, he wants you to blow bubbles with it, drooling over his balls and slicking them up with his own diluted cum.
Sometimes, he kisses you right after and steals his own cum from your mouth, swishing it around with his saliva before spitting it back out onto your face with a dazed smirk.
Most of the time, though, he takes hold of your hand, brings it to your own mouth, and tells you to spit. He lets go of your wrist and nods. You know exactly what to do.
You bring the messy hand to your cunt and smear it all over, coating your folds with his cum.
"Don't forget—yeah, good," he would hum, watching you shove your cum covered fingers into your hole. "Good girl, that's right. Fuck it back inside."
Porn-brained Deep who forces you to watch videos with him.
"See that? Don't you wanna be a nasty girl just like her?"
Cum funnels, gangbangs, anal, double penetration, all of it. Anything sick, perverted, or icky is his holy grail.
He slowly pets your pussy, mentally taking note of which scenes make your panties wetter and which ones make your clit throb under his touch. When a video of a woman tied up to the bed pops up, a vibrator assaulting her helpless cunt, he feels your pussy twitch.
"Yeah?" He looks over at you, an eyebrow raised. "You like that?" He rubs you more purposefully, focusing on your swollen clit.
"I guess my baby's getting to be just as gross as I am, huh?"
"They say that reality is merely a thin layer of the world, but the true depth of our existence lies within our imagination. 🌙✨
Welcome to Nyx Veil. This channel isn’t just a place for videos; it is a sanctuary for the dreamers, the star-gazers, and the storytellers. If you’ve ever felt like your soul is more at home in the pages of a beloved book or beneath the vast, silent beauty of the cosmos, then you are exactly where you belong.
Here at Nyx Veil, we live in the space between reality and wonder. I’m so excited to share this journey with you as we explore: ✨ Astronomy: Chasing the mysteries of the stars and the secrets of the night sky. 📚 Literature & Lore: Deep dives into my favorite series and stories that shaped who I am. ✍️ The Ink & The Page: My own original writing, personal quotes, and the stories I’m currently crafting (like The Poisoned Rose!). 🎶 Soundscapes: The music that carries my imagination and fills the silence.
This channel is my way of showing you where I truly live—not just in the physical world, but in the boundless landscapes of the mind. Imagination isn’t just a tool; it is the truest place we inhabit.
"Logic will get you from A to B. Imagination will take you everywhere." — Albert Einstein
Thank you for being part of this cosmic collective. Let’s create, imagine, and wander through the veil together.
CONTENT: Readers first time having a gynecologist appointment and her doctor is a fraud. [cw: mdni. Imposter medical exam, dubious consent, off-screen murder, body concealment, age gap (reader is 20 and Toji is 30), power imbalance, explicit sexual content.]
The heavy metallic scent of blood was still fresh in the air, but Toji Fushiguro was a professional. He had just finished shoving the late Dr. Jiro’s body into the tall supply cabinet, wiping his blood-stained hands on a stray towel, when a sharp knock rattled the office door.
"Dr. Jiro? Your 2:00 PM appointment is here. Should I send her in?" the secretary’s voice called out.
Toji froze, his mind calculating the exits. Damn it. If he bolted now, the secretary would walk in, find the empty room, probably check the cabinet, and raise the alarm before he even cleared the parking lot. He needed a few minutes to let the building clear out.
Glancing down, he saw a pristine white lab coat hanging on the back of the door. He grabbed it, throwing it over his muscular frame. It was hilariously tight around his broad shoulders, splitting slightly at the seams of his upper back, but it would have to do. He cleared his throat, deepening his voice. "Yeah. Send her in."
When the door clicked open, Toji braced himself to play the part, expecting some sharp-eyed woman who would instantly realize he didn't know a speculum from a stethoscope.
Instead, you walked in.
You looked small, clutching your purse to your chest like a shield, your eyes wide and darting around the room nervously. You were only twenty, completely innocent, and visibly trembling.
Toji’s assassin instincts melted into pure, dark amusement. Oh, he thought, a slow, wicked smirk tugging at the corner of his lips before he quickly schooled his face into a serious expression. This is going to be easy.
"Um, Dr. Jiro?" you squeaked, looking at the towering, impossibly handsome man in front of you. He didn't really look like the picture on the clinic's website, but you were too terrified to question it. You just assumed he had spent a lot of time at the gym since that photo was taken.
"Yeah. That's me," Toji lied smoothly, leaning back against the desk and crossing his arms. The fabric of the lab coat strained against his biceps. "Take a seat. You look like you're about to faint."
"I-I'm just really nervous," you admitted, sitting on the very edge of the chair, your knuckles white as you gripped your bag. "It's my first time at the gynecologist. I don't really know what to expect."
Toji blinked. First time. A dangerous thrill shot through him. Now, Toji knew a lot of things. He knew how to take a man's life in under three seconds, and he knew exactly how to make a woman scream his name in bed. But clinical, medical knowledge of a woman's anatomy? Absolutely zero.
"Right. Well," Toji muttered, clearing his throat and grabbing a clipboard to look busy. He skimmed a random chart, pretending to read your medical history while actually just waiting for his adrenaline to settle. "First times can be... intense. But don't worry. I'll be thorough. We'll start with a full body check before we do the internal exam."
He pointed toward the examination table. "Go ahead and strip down to your underwear. Put this gown on, opening facing the front. I'll step behind the curtain for a second."
While you nervously got ready, Toji quickly scanned a colorful poster on the wall detailing a pelvic exam. Okay. Touch here, check that. Simple enough. He washed his hands thoroughly, enjoying the irony of washing away actual blood just to pretend to be a doctor, then snapped on a pair of latex gloves. He pulled the curtain back.
You were sitting on the edge of the table, clutching the flimsy paper gown shut over your chest. Your legs dangled off the side, pale and smooth.
"Alright, let's look at your reflexes and skin condition first," Toji murmured, stepping closer. His massive frame completely towered over you, casting a long shadow. He reached out, his gloved hands gently grasping your forearm. He ran his large thumb down to your wrist, feeling your pulse racing frantically. "Heart rate is high. Breathe for me, sweetheart."
He moved his hands up to your shoulders, squeezing the tense muscles. His touch was firm, possessing a strange, commanding warmth that didn't feel like a sterile doctor at all. He slid his hands down your arms, checking your skin, before moving down to your legs. He lifted one of your feet, his hands sliding up your calf and over your knee, testing the joint. Every place his warm hands pressed left your skin tingling.
"Now, relax your gown," Toji commanded softly, stepping right between your thighs as you sat on the table. "Need to do a breast exam. Check for lumps."
Your face flushed crimson. You slowly parted the gown, exposing your bare chest to him. Toji’s eyes darkened instantly, his gaze tracking over your smooth skin and the heavy rise and fall of your chest. He forced his expression to remain professional, though his primal instincts were screaming.
He flattened his large, gloved hand against your torso, tracing your ribs before moving upward. His fingers were incredibly deliberate, circling your breast with a firm, steady pressure. You let out a soft gasp as his thumb brushed over the apex, making it instantly harden under his touch.
"Everything feels normal here," Toji rumbled, his voice dropping an octave, becoming dangerously husky. "Very healthy. Go ahead and lay back now. Put your feet in the stirrups. We'll finish the check up down there."
Your breath hitched as you moved into position. You were lying down, your knees bent and resting in the stirrups, feeling incredibly exposed and vulnerable.
Toji sat on the rolling stool, pushing the tray closer. When he parted the sheet, his breath caught slightly. You were young, beautiful, and completely flawless.
He leaned in, his large hands gently touching the inside of your thighs. He spread your legs a fraction wider, his eyes scanning your intimate warmth. "Still very tense. You need to relax your muscles for me."
"I-I'm trying," you whimpered, gripping the edges of the vinyl table.
"Let me help you," Toji murmured. He didn't bother using any of the cold metal instruments on the tray. He didn't know how to use them anyway, and frankly, he wanted his hands on you.
He reached for a bottle of lubricating gel, squeezing a generous amount onto his gloved fingers. The gel was cool, but as he pressed his two fingers against your opening, the contrast made you let out a soft, embarrassing gasp.
He didn't wait for an answer, slowly sliding his fingers inside you. He felt how tight you were, how incredibly warm and welcoming.
"N-no," you breathed, your hips unconsciously twitching against his touch. "It just... feels different than I thought it would. Is it supposed to feel this... deep?"
Toji chuckled darkly, a sound vibrating deep in his chest. "Yes. I need to make sure everything is functioning perfectly."
He began to move his fingers in a slow, rhythmic stroke. He knew exactly how to pleasure a woman, and right now, he was using all that expertise under the guise of a routine exam. He angled his fingers upward, finding a very specific, sensitive spot inside you and pressing firmly.
You let out a loud gasp, your toes curling in the stirrups. "Oh!"
"Everything okay?" Toji asked, a wicked smirk playing on his lips as he watched your face flush crimson.
"Yes, it's just... a very strange sensation," you whispered, completely dazed.
"It's just standard procedure," Toji lied smoothly, his thumb subtly slipping forward to rub against your clitoris through the latex while his fingers continued to stroke inside you. "Tell me if the pressure is too much."
"Ah... no, it's... it's fine," you gasped, arching your back slightly off the table. Your hands gripped the vinyl so hard your knuckles turned white. It felt incredibly scandalous, yet so intensely good that you couldn't find it in yourself to tell him to stop. You genuinely thought this was how a premier doctor conducted an exam. You loved the way his large hands dominated your body, making you feel completely consumed.
Toji watched your face, watching your lips part and your eyes flutter shut. He increased the speed of his fingers, feeling you begin to slick up, your inner muscles clamping tightly around his fingers, begging for release. He slid a third finger inside, stretching you gently, eliciting a needy whine from your lips.
He kept up the relentless, heavy rhythm, his thumb putting just enough pressure on your sweet spot until you couldn't hold it back anymore. With a loud, breathless cry, your hips shuddered against his hand, your walls rippling around his fingers in a powerful, shattering orgasm right there on the table.
Toji let you ride out the waves, a look of pure, dominant satisfaction on his face. He slowly slid his fingers out of you with a wet, deliberate slowness, snapping his gloves off and tossing them into the bin.
"Alright. Exam's over," Toji said, wiping his hands on a towel and offering you a smirk that was entirely too wicked for a medical practitioner. "You're perfectly healthy. In fact, I think we should do a follow-up appointment. Very soon. My private office, perhaps?"
You blushed furiously, your chest still heaving as you pulled the gown down to cover yourself. Your body was tingling, completely undone by the experience. "Y-yes, Dr. Jiro. Thank you."
Toji turned to leave, pausing at the door to look back at your flushed, dazed form. "See you soon, sweetheart."
Written by: Kira
dividers by @cafekitsune & @omi-resources
[ NOTICE: Plagiarism of this data log will not be tolerated. However, inspiration is permitted provided explicit network credit is given. ]
Dean's been at it for over an hour, head between your thighs, tongue inside your cunt.
You've cum more times than you can count- they've got it at every angle now, every sound you can imagine, moaning, gasping, begging. It's almost getting ridiculous at this point- you know they won't use all the footage.
But you're also not gonna stop him. You're not sure you've ever felt like this- it's overwhelming in the best way possible, your whole body feels like syrup, you're soaking over him, over the sheets. You'd be sobbing by now if you weren't so painfully aware of the camera only inches from your face.
He pushes his fingers into you again, deep and hard, curling in a way that makes your head spin.
Your hips lift off the mattress, he grabs hold of you quick, pushing you back down hard, "Stay still-"
You know they'll keep that. They'll make sure to keep anything he says. Those are always the parts that get the most replays- hell they're the parts you replay. When you're up late, watching his videos, hand between your thighs.
"-I didn't tell you to fucking move."
You don't know how it still works for you. You know it's not him, he even ran through ideas of lines he was gonna use before you started. He was very sweet about it, almost shy when you were alone- he's anything but shy now.
His grip on you tightens as he moves back to your clit, his tongue working against you rapidly. You're gripping the sheets, trying to keep yourself steady, your whole body convulsing as another orgasm starts to rise quickly.
"Fuck- please-"
He's already told you to beg, a couple times actually. You know he will again. It gets you hot just thinking about it, the stern tone in his voice. You bite your lip hard, trying to stop your hips from rising again. Your gaze falls to the camera, a reminder that you're supposed to be performing, you batter your eyelashes, let out another loud moan.
He pulls back suddenly, his sticky hand wrapping around your thigh, his other hand moving up to wipe his mouth. He looks like a mess, hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead, chin glistening with your arousal. He glances around to the set, speaking louder, "Sorry guys- I've gotta- I've gotta take a break."
The room picks up in a flash, people moving around, cameras resetting. People come running over with robes, one gets draped over your shoulders, a plastic cup of water pushes into your hands. You take a big swig of it, suddenly realizing how dry your mouth is.
People move around you, you see a few people checking the monitors, gearing up for the next shot. You glance at Dean, he's pulling in a shaky breath, pushing his hair out of his face with his long fingers.
You try to go over everything that just happened- why he wanted to stop. Maybe it's the way your bare heel had dug into his back the last time you came, maybe it's the way you tugged his hair a few minutes ago. Maybe he's just getting sick of being the only one actually doing any work.
He moves closer to you on the mattress, settling close enough that he could reach out if he wanted to. He looks up, gaze falling over you, then turns away fast, back to his own cup.
You speak quickly, nervously, "I'm sorry- did I-"
He cuts you off, leaning his head down slightly so he can speak in a hushed voice, "I'm gonna cum, sweetheart."
It catches you off guard, "What?"
He takes a swig of water, then speaks slowly, "If we keep going, I'm gonna cum."
You're still not sure you've understood him, "What do you-"
"I'm not kidding here, I feel like I'm gonna fuckin' explode- if they catch that on film my whole tough guy act is fucked-"
"We haven't even- I haven't touched you-" you manage to get out.
"I'll never live it down if I blow my load just from tongue fuckin' you- jesus-" he shifts awkwardly, you realize he's trying to hide his boner- it's not easy when his cock is larger than any you've seen before.
"You're gonna cum just from going down on me?"
"You're moaning like you've never had a guy touch you before- it's not exactly helping."
You raise an eyebrow, "I can stop?"
He grins at you, "Don't you dare."
Your heart skips a beat, thighs clench together. Forget any video- this is what you're gonna be thinking about tonight.
He takes another gulp of water, then looks back at you, "Just give me a minute to cool off, and I promise I'll fuck you so hard you can't walk tomorrow-"
soulless sam who makes reader throw up on his cock and fingers just because he can 😵💫
throwing up is just so intimate to me and idk why. someone seeing your insides LITERALLY and watching you cry from it uuughhhh even though its so gross its my favorite thing. vomit truthers where are you…
soulless sam wants you to be orally fixated on him at all times. he gives you a piece of gum to chew on, always has a little peppermint or jolly rancher for you to swirl your tongue around when he can’t give you something more. when you kiss him he makes you suck his tongue like a lollipop, sometimes he makes you suck on his nose for the funsies lol.
his fingers are the most available thing though. you like them because they mimic his cock, all long and rigid, and you can barely take them all the way to the knuckle because you start heaving. it makes you dizzy with excitement. this is love, you like to think.
“there y’go.” he exhales, wiggling his fingers inside of your mouth slowly but surely. his other hand is tight against your ribcage, holding you close so you don’t fall off his lap. you exhale shakily, jaw slack but trembling as you try not to gag the deeper they go. sam kisses your temple and watches intently as his knuckle finally hits your teeth. “close your mouth.” he instructs. your lips wrap around his fingers, keeping them inside of your throat even if you threaten to gag.
your face is red, cheeks flushed bright and eyes watering from the effort it takes you to not recoil and spit him out, and he can tell by how your lips tremble and your breaths become shallow and shaky against his skin.
he strokes your cheek with his thumb, flinging away stray tears that manage their way down your soft skin. “don’t cry,” sam coos, smiling down at you with that sweet little look he always has, the one that tries to tell you you’re safe. you want to whine but all that comes out is a retch of discomfort, your throat closing around him and saliva filling your mouth. “shit. it’s okay sweetheart. shh, just relax and take it. don’t gotta do anything yet.”
yet. god, yet. the suspense of something more to come always gets you antsy and he knows it, so you swear he does it on purpose at this point! not that he’s admitted it just yet, but you’ll get him to one of these days.
it comes when you’re finally relaxing into him, the slight wiggle and curl of his fingers inside of your mouth that sends an uncomfortable feeling down your spine. you exhale into him, brows furrowing and jaw locking in place. he keeps lulling you into a relaxed state, his other hand rubbing your waist in a way that so poorly distracts you of how bile begins to rise in your throat it just worsens the feeling.
your hands clench at your knees, chest caving with every swallowed gag. his fingers go impossibly deeper, digging into your mouth and looking for gold.
you can’t take it.
you barely get to think before you’re keeling over and throwing up all over your pants and the ground, heaving and hiccuping once you finally get room from his fingers and stomach acid.
“oh, god.” he whispers under his breath, grimacing slightly at the mess. “look at what you’ve done. couldn’t’ve warned me beforehand?” you shake your head, wiping your face clean with the back of your hand and onto your arm. “n-no, no. i’m sorry, sam.” you manage. it’s a meek apology that he can’t stand, but he takes it because you start looking at him to sweetly it makes his heart clench.
“again. come on.” he huffs. his fingers reach for your face again, ready to prod back in until you move away. “what? no, i-i feel sick, i can’t.” he sneers. “i wasn’t asking if you felt sick, baby. i was telling you we’re going again so you can learn.”
“there’s vomit all over me!”
“so? you’ve got more clothes. tough it out.”
you can’t bring yourself to argue more, so again he goes with the fingers. they barely get past your tongue before you’re gagging and turning your head. he clicks his tongue every time you move away and it pulls something inside of your mind that makes you turn back into him.
“perfect, perfect.” he murmurs. it’s mostly to himself, though, as he finally gets knuckles deep. your nostrils flare and your throat pulses around him. “don’t move. just keep it like that.”
you blink up at him with those desperate eyes you have in times like these, a silent way of begging him to let you loose. he shakes his head with a satisfied smirk. “you’re fine. don’t be a goddamn baby.”
Lowkey curious how “reader” in the story would react if she found a tape of Soldier Boy singing rapture and how she’d tease him & he’d react 😂😂
oh my god 😭 she would be insufferable about it.
reader finding a tape of soldier boy singing rapture would genuinely ruin his week. she’d play it once, freeze, slowly turn to look at him with the nastiest little grin, and he’d immediately know his life was over.
she’d be walking around the safehouse humming it under her breath. quoting lines at him in the worst moments. calling him “blondie” just to watch his eye twitch. maybe even doing that little fake-mic thing with her hand while he’s trying to be serious.
and soldier boy would act so pissed. all jaw tight, eyes narrowed, muttering about how she doesn’t know shit about music and that it was “a different time.” meanwhile, the more she teases him, the more he’s secretly pleased she watched it that closely 😭
because yes, he’s embarrassed. yes, he wants to break the tape in half. but also... reader laughing at him, giving him attention, making him the center of her little private joke? unfortunately, he’d eat that up. he’d just rather die than admit it. so he’d probably snap something like, “you done, doll?” and she’d go, “not even close,” and he’d realize he created a monster 😌
synopsis . You're best friend's with both your favorite emo fratboy and the campus plug. So when you make an offhand comment while under the influence one night that no guy has ever made you cum, he takes it upon himself to challenge that.
content . afab!reader, oral sex, dirty talk, spitting, squirting, he has a tongue piercing, pussy slapping, slightly-bimbo!reader, high sex, 69 position, cumming without realizing it, munch activities (yk how choso is), he’s a lil cocky, first time squirting, finger fucking, shotgun kiss, he talks you to filth, slight manhandling, throat fucking, head pushing, heavy praise, etc.
word count . 8.9k || author's note: this is a repost from kamitv so if it looks familiar, that's why. (the original was labeled mature, unfortunately) banner art from, "Hachisuka's Family Kotoribako"
“This guy is following me, pretend to be my boyfriend.”
“Wha—“
A pair of arms are wrapping around his neck before he has time to react properly and the rush of something sweet wafts up into his nose. A careful hand, decorated with ring after ring and adorned with black polish across the nails, comes to the right side of your waist to pull you in close.
Choso’s rich and definitely intoxicated brown eyes mull over the faces of the people around him, spotting Gojo and Geto—his friends—not too far away from him, and a bunch of other partygoers.
He doesn’t ask you any more questions—despite how you’re some random chick who came clinging onto him—as his eyes soon land on the guy who’d clearly been following you.
“Ew, Naoya…” He spits out, his face twisting up into a nasty scowl of pure disgust as the residential misogynist comes walking toward the two of you. “Don’t tell me he’s the asshole bothering you?” Choso whispers questioningly.
Your face is all buried into his neck and he could feel your arms tightening around him as you mumbled a gentle, “Mhm, he is.”
Great…
Because who in their right mind would want to deal with Naoya on a Saturday night? The guy gets kicked out of every frat house party that’s ever been held ‘cause of shit like this. All he does is harass and insult women, only to be eventually approached by one of the many frat brothers and get kicked out moments later.
Seems like this week it’s Choso’s turn to handle him. Which is just wonderful, really.
“Yo,” Choso calls out to the fully approached Naoya, whose mere presence makes him feel nauseated. “The fuck do you want with my girl?”
Now, you’ve never spoken to Choso before this but, the sound of him calling you his girl has your heart feeling all warm inside—even though he’s only said that because you’d asked him to play along.
The scent of his cologne mixing with the thick musk of weed fills your nose as your face smushes up into his chest. You only know the man through the rumors you’ve heard and the few times you’ve seen him around these parties you keep attending. As you readjust your chin to look up at his expression, you think your arms unconsciously hold onto him a little tighter the moment you spot the vein peeking out against his jawline.
Everyone hates Naoya, that’s an irrefutable fact. But, something about how annoyed Choso was looking at him right now had you pulling your lower lip into your mouth.
Naoya lets off a scoff, his voice all loud and annoying, “This dumb bitch is your girl?” He asks.
Every syllable that left his mouth is grating to all listening ears. Ugh, he was such a nuisance…
You merely glance back at the guy for a second and notice the look in his eyes that clearly says he’s not buying this shit. Choso—catching the same thing that you do—slips one of his hands downwards to the small of your back, not daring to go any lower just yet, and then eases you even closer.
“First off, watch your fuckin’ mouth,” He scoffs out, jaded eyes dragging up and down Naoya’s frame as he wonders how long it would take to knock him onto his ass. “Secondly, yeah, we’re together. What do you want?”
“That slut owes me money,” Naoya curses with tightly crossed arms, his gaze fixated entirely on you as if Choso weren’t even there. Though, he’s not really looking to get kicked out of this party just yet and he’s trying his best to avoid physical confrontation.
Cocking a brow, the brunet smoothes out a low huff that smells of the recently consumed marijuana he's inebriated under before redirecting his slightly glossed eyes down to you, “This isn’t what I think it is, is it, baby?”
You’re quickly distracted by the pet name that so easily rolled off of his tongue but without getting too wrapped up in it, you blink. “Huh?”
Choso slowly tilts his head to the side and cracks a knowing grin, “You’ve been seein’ other dealers? Don’t you know I’m the best on campus?”
Gulping, “Well, I–”
“S’okay,” He cuts off to ease the concern and worry trying to paint itself into your features. “We’ll get back to that in a sec’,” Then he gestures his head over to Naoya, gives your waist a little squeeze, and says, “Lemme handle this guy for you first.”
Choso carefully moves you to the side and steps toward Naoya, who’s arguably a bit taller than him. He sizes him up again and bites back his scoff, replacing it with a tiresome sigh that he doesn’t even try to play off as anything else outside of what it is—an honest gesture of displeasure.
Voice lazy, “How much does she owe you, man?” Choso asks with one hand already fishing through the pocket of his pants for his wallet.
It really didn’t matter what number was thrown out to him, he was gonna fling whatever bit of cash he had on him toward Naoya to get him to fuck off. The only thing good about his presence right now was the fact that it brought you along, which is something Choso would like to return to as swiftly as possible.
“Tch,” Naoya chuffs, trying to glance behind him to get another scowling look at you before he says, “As if you have enough to—”
“Jus’ give me the number before I get you kicked out again,” Choso cuts off cleanly with a gaze that bores into the man’s skull.
One beat of silence passes by as Naoya contemplates a few things in his mind, wondering whether or not he really wants to test his luck with this.
Ultimately, he ends up caving with a roll of his eyes, “Fine…” Then he gives him the number of which you owe and he’s literally smacked in the face with a random wad of cash as if he were some kinda’ cheap whore to be dealt with.
“There,” Choso spat, “Now don’t let me catch you trying to sell my girl your overpriced bullshit again, yeah?” Technically, he had no right to tell someone else not to sell drugs to you when he didn’t even know you.
But, one look at your face and he was certain he’d want you coming to him for weed and not anyone else after this. Especially when going to someone else landed you in this situation where you’re being followed around parties for payment—Choso would never do such a thing. He’d offer alternatives before even thinking to harass you like that.
Naoya was immediately enraged by how he’s being dismissed but it’s not like he could express that since there were one too many fraternity members in the area for him to do so without instantly getting escorted out. Thus, he settles for shuffling up the cash that’d fallen onto the floor—snatching each bill from beneath the feet of partygoers—and keeps his curses in a lowered whisper that’d never be heard under the blaring music.
Then, as if nothing ever happened, the surrounding people return to their dancing and Naoya seems to disappear somewhere into the crowd shortly after.
Which leaves you standing in place with slightly widened eyes whilst Choso turns around to look at you, brushing his hands off like he’d just dealt with some type of dirt or something.
“You alright?” He asks, taking a step closer toward you. The music is loud so it’s hard for you to really hear him, hence why he leans his ear down to your lips so he can gather your response properly.
You nod at first and then the words follow, “Uhm, yeah. I wasn’t expecting you to pay that off for me but, thank you, Choso.”
Shifting over to talk into your ear now, “Don’t sweat it, princess. But uh,” He clicks his tongue before darting it out to swipe over his lower, pierced lip. “I meant what I said before. You should’ve been dealin’ with me, not that idiot.”
“Oh,” You chirp.
Then he pulls away and the two of you are able to take one another in properly for the first time.
Under the changing LED lights—which are currently a mix of purple and red—both of your faces are dimly illuminated. Choso’s eyes openly scan over every detail of your expression, watching the cute curl in your lips as you slowly smile at him.
Oh, you’re gorgeous.
What are the odds that a pretty girl like you literally comes running into his arms at a party like this? And then this dress you have on… Choso doesn’t exactly mean to glance down but when he does, he notices the way the fabric simply hugs your body, shaping you in all the right places and more.
He gulps, a sound that would’ve been rather loud if not for the vibrating base of music against the surrounding frat house walls. His eyes flick back up to your face and you’re shamelessly staring at his lips, then your gaze lifts to his nose, then to the right side of his face; right at his cheekbone for some reason? After, you’re looking at the tattoo running across the bridge of his nose and—
Ohhh, Choso was so distracted with checking you out that he almost forgot how many body modifications he has. He gets these kinda stares all the time but for a second he’d lost his entire train of thought. There’s the ring on the left side of his lower lip, his anti-brow piercing on the right half of his face, the small one on the left side of his nose with a very obvious tattoo running across the bridge, and then the multitude of piercings all over his ears.
Makes’ sense why you were staring now. You’ve got this clueless little look in your eyes and it’s kinda cute—
“How much do you charge?” You’re asking, ending his thoughts entirely.
The word, “Free,” blurts out of him before he even realizes it and it’s not until he sees the way you start giggling that he realizes what he’d just said. Shaking his head, and backtracking, “Wait-, no. I don’t do anything for free, sorry. If anything,” Choso leans back and slides his hands down into his pockets, “You actually owe me now.”
Your eyes shoot wide open, “Owe you for what?!” you’re huffing as you wonder how the hell you keep finding yourself in someone’s debt like this.
“Hm, I dunno. Paying Naoya off for you?” He says with this sly grin stretching across his face. “But don’t worry, you jus’ owe me a promise.”
You lift a skeptical brow at him and watch his pinky finger lift out for you to attach your own to in the most cliché way possible. Looking down at his finger, then back up into his eyes, “What kinda promise?”
“Gotta’ promise you’ll come to me for your weed instead of that moron, I’ve got better prices and better strains. None of that baby shit he was scammin’ you with, trust me.” Choso offers with his pinky still outstretched. You’re slow to intertwine your finger with his and he uses the connection to pull you closer, “I need to hear you say it too.”
You almost start stuttering with the way he’d jerked your body closer just to say that all lowly to you. “I promise I’ll come to you instead of Naoya from now on,” You respond with a dramatic emphasis on your words, fighting the blooming feeling in the pit of your stomach that spurs when he smiles at you as if he were proud or something.
And that’s roughly how the two of you met and became acquainted with one another. A couple minutes of fake-dating, one pinky promise, and a “complimentary” joint to start you off later and the two of you were practically best buds!
——
Well, not exactly best buds but you and him do get really close after that little party and encounter.
You stay true to the promise you’d made with him and only ever deal with him from then on. Choso was entirely honest with you that night so, everything he’d said turned out to be more than true. The shit you used to get from Naoya was nothing compared to what you were constantly high off of now, and it was cheaper.
Though, sometimes you did seduce your way into convincing Choso to give you an even lower discount….
One slightly revealing top was usually all it took for him to snag off a couple dollars for you—amongst other things. Like the cute ass smile you flash his way whenever you’re geeked out of your mind, yapping on and on about fuck knows what until the words leaving you no longer make sense. Yeah, Choso loves that.
Oh, and the tasty gloss you typically coat your lips with.
He’s not some kinda weirdo so he definitely hasn’t had any… lustful thoughts about said gloss but, he can’t exactly avoid getting a taste of it whenever the two of you are cycling a blunt back and forth and bits of it are left clinging to the wrap.
Outside of just smoking his weed and becoming his favorite customer, you also become someone he likes to keep by his side and talk to from time to time. The best discounts from him come after a good smoke sesh that he usually has to beg you to stick around for.
During those, the two of you end up talking each other’s ears off until it really comes time for you to go.
Slowly but surely, the two of you are spotted together more often than either of you cared to be, and dating rumors shuffle about. They’re quickly shut down after a couple of parties where you’re spotted letting some other random guy kiss on you but, a certain two individuals try their best to keep it alive.
The individuals in question are none other than Choso’s closest frat brothers: Gojo and Geto. Those idiots were fully convinced that poor Choso never got any play until he met you, and now they’re both convinced he’s your loser boyfriend.
You’re pretty sure they only act like that because they’re jealous you’re probably getting free weed from the guy while they’re not.
Little do they know, their perception of your relationship with Choso couldn’t have been further from the truth. He was definitely getting play, he was just quiet about it since he’s the kinda guy you wouldn’t even realize slept around unless he wanted you to realize it. And as for you, you’re the one who ends up feeling like a loser after a while seeing as every guy you hook up fails to make you cum.
So much so that you were starting to believe there was actually something wrong with you.
This all leads to now, as you enter Choso’s dorm room for the nth time this week to, hopefully, get high enough to distract you from that little orgasmic issue of yours.
As soon as you enter the dorm, your mood is killed immediately.
Sitting in the living room laughing loud as hell, is Gojo and Geto. Both of their heads turn in sync as you walk in, trying to quickly pocket the spare key Choso had made for you some time ago—having mentioned something about being too lazy to open the door for you all the time—and hoping that the two men will leave you-
“Look who’s here to see her man, awww,” Gojo coos before you can even try to ignore him.
Then Geto follows that up with a cunning, “Should’ warn you though, your boyfriend’s high as a kite in there.”
Trying not to let their annoying-ass taunting get to you, you settle for a sigh of, “When is he not?” before turning the corner and b-lining towards Choso’s room.
There are some more childish snickers and comments made about you from the two men but you pay no mind to it this time.
Pushing the desired door open, you’re immediately met with a thick heat of smoky air and a completely fogged room. The sound of a towel brushing against the floor as you push the door open makes you look down and you quickly realize he’d been hotboxing all by himself.
“Without me, seriously?” You hum with no malice behind your words as you slip past the door and shut it behind you, using your foot to nudge the towel back into place and then letting your eyes scan Choso’s slightly cluttered room.
The man is lying across his bed, dark hair hanging off its edge with the way he splayed out upside down and pinched a rather fat blunt in between the thick of his thumb and index. “You were takin’ too long,” Choso drawls.
And god, you could tell by the tone of his voice that he was barely even with you right now. He always had a pretty mellow way of speaking but when he was really high, his voice would drop an octave or two—words crawling off of his tongue all sleazily and heavy with each syllable.
“Y’know I’ll make it up to you though, here,” He adds on seconds later before you get the chance to settle into his room.
That strong earthy scent coated the entirety of his room as you walked over to the edge of his bed and looked down at him, noticing the jaded reds and pinks coating the typically white portion of his eyes as he batted them up at you. He’s got some low melodies playing from some corner and it only adds to the ambience of the space. Then, his arm extends and he’s offering you the cause of his fumed room.
Humming, “Thank you,” whilst plucking the joint out of his hands, your nails just barely graze his skin. Choso eyes the way you bring it up to your mouth and clasp it lightly in between your lips, leaning down to him and nodding your chin towards the lighter in his other hand.
He catches your gesture and hoists it up to spark the blunt for you, hand cupping the air around as he filters through a couple stubborn flicks before a flame adorns the preroll’s end. Choso’s eyelids are weighted even as he watches you draw in a steady breath to capture the item’s contents into your system—quickly moving your hand to the joint afterwards to pry it from your lips and exhale slowly.
Another hum, this time one of approval, ghosts past your lips along with the fumes you’d just let escape you. “You look tired,” You comment while pulling away.
As you move around his room to plop your back down somewhere and get comfortable, your plug merely mumbles an easy, “M’not.” in response to you.
You shoot him over a look he doesn’t quite see, “If you fall asleep on me like you did last time, I’m leaving.”
“You better keep me awake then, no?” Choso chimes with one lazy smirk making the corner of his lips twitch.
Cocking a brow now, “And how am I supposed to do that?” you ask.
You then relax down into the chair in front of his desk of scattered papers and unfinished assignments, dragging it over to the side of his bed so that you’re close enough to pass the blunt back and forth.
He lifts his head adequately to glance over at where you’re sitting and then offers you a shrug as his hand goes out, “I dunno, you tell me, baby.”
In the midst of taking another long hit and after passing it off to him, you meet his expectant gaze with a certain look, “Cho.”
“What?” He scoffs immediately. Then he’s sitting up and reaching over to pluck the blunt out of your hand and bring it to his lips, mumbling, “I call everyone that…”
He knew you didn’t care much for the pet name, even though he’s been calling you that ever since the two of you met. You told him about how much you hated the way it fueled the dating rumors and made it harder to get Gojo and Geto shut up. But, when your eyes roll in reaction to what he just said, he lets off a soft whir.
“Mh, you didn’t like that, huh?” Choso asks you in between several back-to-back hits that you’d normally scold him about. The brown of his eyes glide over your frame and then zero in steadily on the way your lips are moving as you speak.
“What?” You huff, “No, I don’t care if you call everyone baby.” A lie, it did bother something deep down inside of you. “I-If anything that’s a good thing.” You suggest.
To which he extends his hand out to you again, letting a single brow arch up, “Yeah?”
“Mhm,” You’re humming. Though, the sound definitely seems like you’re trying to convince yourself here…
The conversation dies out there for a moment longer than either of you care for and it doesn’t go unnoticed, even as the two of you cycle the blunt back and forth until it’s about halfway smoked through.
While you try to relax in the uncomfortable silence that’s stretching itself out in between the two of you, your mind is unfortunately drifting back to your sexual issue. The weed is supposed to keep your mind at bay and help you relax and yet, today it decided to do everything but that. Instead, your head is very much wracked with annoying flashbacks of the recent times in which you’ve been faking your orgasms for the second-rate men you’ve been sleeping with.
It’s not that these thoughts are completely unwelcome but, you’d rather not have them now while you’re busy smoking with Choso. And it really doesn’t help that he’s not being his usual talkative self right no–
“You’re quiet today,” Choso breaks the silence all of a sudden and the sound of his deepened voice is almost enough to make you flinch. It was like he’d read your mind or something just now…
Spooky.
You’re slumped back against the chair and staring up at the thickly clouded ceiling, “Think so?”
Choso nods before he speaks. “Yeah, what’s up?” He asks, eyes still watching you as if he were studying your every little move amid the haze, “Talk to me, princess.”
While your stoned brain decides to focus on your lack of orgasms, his mind is unable to drift away from you and the way you look sitting in his bedroom right now. This isn’t too unusual for him since weed does tend to help his focus but, normally it’s not on you as much as it is today.
Perhaps that was because of your weird silence. You hadn't even complained about anything yet, which was enough to tell him that something was wrong.
Before you speak, the question rings around your head for a few seconds. Choso has a handful of pet names he uses on people and you know that but, you’re not quite sure if he says that last one to just anybody.
Hence why a delicate, “...Do you call everyone that too?” streams past the gloss of your lips.
“Nah,” Choso answers immediately as if he’d been watching the words walk right out of you. Then he tilts his head, “Just you.”
At that, you visibly tense up a little. You hated sessions like this with him. When the quiet got too loud that the mostly dormant emotions began to bloom around you. The warmth you feel flash over your face and cling at your heartstrings is definitely not from the weed but, you try to ignore it.
He’s been like this a couple times in the past. While he does get sleepy after a long smoke sesh, he also tends to get uncharacteristically direct and soft with you. You remember how one time he went on this looong rant about how pretty you were. But, before you could reply to any of it, he dozed off while mumbling about how he hoped to see you in his dreams that night.
Anytime you bring this up now, he tells you none of that ever happens and that he’d definitely remember doing so but, he doesn’t.
“You gettin’ shy on me now?” Choso asks abruptly, to which you lift your head and look at him. He’s sitting all the way up now, rolling a few more joints—as if he needs to—and then glancing to you again, “I said talk to me, what’s on your mind?”
Your gaze fixates on how careful his thumbs are with the joint’s edges, smoothing over them with the rolling, and only ever taking his eyes off of you to focus on what he’s doing before slipping his tongue out to lick it.
A short, “Everything…” comes out of you in a manner so cliche that it makes him snort.
The unpierced side of his lips quirk up now that he’s half-smiling, “Pfft, okay… Well, what’s been going on with you lately? You’re bein’ dry as hell with me right now.” He points out.
You pout a bit and take your eyes away from him, “I dunno. I… It’s stupid.”
Choso rolls his eyes at you, “Don’t you start that shit,” He warns. You know he doesn’t like when you beat around the bush but how the hell are you supposed to tell him that you’re quiet today because you’re sexually frustrated? He’s your dealer, not-, “We’re friends, aren’t we?” He asks, interjecting your thoughts directly before shrugging, “Just talk, girl.”
You scoff a simple, “You’re so annoying…” that trails off into another long beat of silence, the only sound coming from his softly moving fingers and the way you take a few more hits of the preroll still in your hands, hoping to gain enough confidence to blurt it out. Then, after a few more carefully thought-out seconds, “...I think something’s wrong with me.” You manage.
“Seem’ perfect to me,” Choso blurts out, clearly not thinking twice about the words that just fell off his tongue.
“I-,” You pause to digest the sudden compliment, brushing it off with a chuckle, “I meant my body, Cho,” To which he mutters the same thing and you pretend not to hear it this time as you say, “I dunno if maybe it’s the stuff I’ve been smoking lately but….”
Some more stillness flies by and this time he seems to be fed up with it.
“But what? Don’t edge me here.” He demands.
The light buzz in your mind serves as a coaxing feeling that helps you finally breathe out, “I can’t cum.”
You don’t get much of a reaction from him at first. If anything, he looks confused as he cocks an almost innocently puzzled brow, “Huh? Can’t come to what?”
“No, not-,” His literal interpretation of your words ends up making you giggle. Then you sigh, “I meant that I can’t orgasm, Choso.”
“What?” He questions dumbfoundedly.
“Please don’t make me repeat that…” You mumble.
“No, seriously, what?” Choso repeats, looking now as if you have three as he puts everything down and turns his head your direction, “You’re not gettin’ fucked right?”
Caught off completely guard, “Jesus. That's not even what I said—”
“But that’s what that means, right?” He interrupts, waiting for you to meet eyes with him again, “Unless you’re trying to tell me you seriously can’t make yourself cum.”
It’s slow but, you finally manage to look at him, “I can…”
Nodding, “Exactly so, that means you’re out there receiving mediocre shit instead of coming to me… again.”
If you weren’t caught off guard before, you damn sure are now. So much so that you cough in between your next hit, the smoke choking up in your lungs with a slight burn as your zen is thrown off. “H-Huh?” You unintentionally stammer.
Even with your eyes on one another now, he can tell you’re nervous just from talking about this. Smoking was not the cause of that flush in your cheeks and he knows it. Something else definitely had you hot right now.
Choso’s eyes flick up and down your seated frame long enough to see the way your thighs shift against the seat. Instantly, his tone gets sly, “What, you think I’m only good for weed?”
Your lashes bat, “Well, n-no, but…”
“C’mere,” He cuts off, having lifted a hand to beckon you over with two generously ringed fingers.
Your scoff is instant, “Choso, respectfully, I don’t think-”
“M’not askin’ you to think,” He smiles, fingers still waving, “I’m askin’ you to come over here.”
It takes you a bit to digest his words before your body gets to moving and when you haul yourself off the chair, you move to plop down on his bed. Sitting right next to him now, Choso leans over a little and his arm slides somewhere behind you. His hand ends up just a few inches away from your ass, his fingers splaying out against his comforter whilst his head weighs to the side.
His body is hot next to yours. So hot you could practically feel the heat oozing off his frame. And the peering look in his eyes wasn’t making it any better either…
“How many times have I told you I’m here for whatever you need, huh?” Choso whispers, the lowness of his voice causing your hips to twitch a little.
He’s all focused on you again, even more so now than he had been earlier, and it was almost as though you could feel him everywhere without him even touching you yet. Perhaps it was the cannabis in the air and the way it swirled throughout your system but, all your sensations felt heightened now.
Pulling your head away from him to gain some distance back, “Plenty of times, but..” Your shoulders slump a little, “This is different, Choso.”
His gaze falls down your body and something husky and wanting sneaks its way into his words now, “How? You think I can’t make you cum?”
God, every time he opened his mouth you felt as though you were losing your mind. And the audacity he had to be so bold with his words on top of that was making it perpetually worse by the minute.
“N-No,” You huff as your head turns back to him and you’re heard gulping thickly at his focus on your mouth. “I’m not saying that but…” You pull your lower lip in between your teeth for a moment to chew while you think. Then, you sigh again, “Well, maybe I am saying that… I just think–”
“I told you to stop doin’ that,” Choso murmurs, arm snaking around your body so that his hand could land on your hip. He gives you a little pull and almost sounds needy as he utters a husky, “C’mere.”
“I’m right–”
“Closer, baby.” Choso cuts off, finally tugging you closer so that the side of your thigh brushes up against his. He then takes his other hand and brings it up to your jaw, drawing your face way too close to his. You could smell the viscous scent of weed on his tongue as he spoke given the lack of distance between you both, his eyes never straying away from the soft, soft curve of your lips, “Now, jus’ tell me if you want me to make you cum or not and I got you.”
Your top set of lashes meets your lower ones in slow-motioned blinks as breathing properly grows increasingly difficult, “It’s not that simple…”
The man’s grasp on your chin grows a little tighter, “It really is.”
You roll your eyes again “Literally no guy has made me-”
“Do I seem like every other guy you’ve been with?” Choso scoffs, as if he were actually ticked off now. Then he forces your head some more up so that your gaze is meeting his and, fuck. The look in his eyes did something. Looking at you all commanding and desiring like you were the only thing that ever mattered in his life, “Do you want my help or not?” he whispers one last time.
Of course you wanted his help, even though you had your doubts about receiving it. You weren’t sure what would be so different with him.
Even so, you’re slow to give him a nod of your head and grumble a cute, “Yeah,” that has him swallowing down a groan.
Then he’s weighing forward and you barely get to fully shut your eyes before his lips smooth over yours. Catching your hesitance, you feel his thumb slip upwards as he talks into your mouth, “Don’t be shy, open up f’me, baby.”
At the sound of that, your lips get to parting over his and his tongue immediately slides right in. Both of your heads tilt off in opposite directions and he’s the first to let out a string of sounds. It starts out with a grunt when you pull back half a centimeter just to slip down and clasp his lower lip between your teeth, nibbling softly.
When you give it an adorable tug and then press forward into the kiss, that’s when he starts groaning.
Choso’s got no idea how any guy could’ve gotten their hands on all this and then decided not to make sure you’re squirting by the end of the night. He supposes he can thank all those guys now though, seeing as you’re swiftly moving forward with this kiss.
Yeah, it starts out slow and a little sloppy but while your tongues are mingling with one another’s and sharing the prominent taste of marijuana, you’re getting eager for more and throwing a leg over him.
You’re properly sitting in his lap before he realizes it. And the only reason Choso acknowledges it at all is because he feels a rush of heat spark from in between his legs as something rubs over the previously dormant tent in his sweats. He can’t even pull away from your mouth to say anything because he’s far too distracted by the gorgeous moan you sink past his lips.
Oh, he’s lost it.
Choso’s hands grab at your waist suddenly and then squeeze hard enough for you to acknowledge his touch before he smoothes downwards to your hips and pushes your body lower so that you’re flush with him. “Mmph,” bursts past his parted lips in the middle of his suckling your tongue deeper into his mouth.
The man is all but swallowing up the sweetness against your mouth, quickly growing addicted to it. Weed could never compare to the taste—a fact of which he’s sure about now. As his tongue soon goes diving down the center of yours, you feel the surprising bud of a snake eye piercing decorating its tip.
That’s when one of your hands moves in between your bodies and sneaks under his shirt as you gasp out his name and then pull away.
His lips chase yours as you draw distance and then he hauls your entire body impossibly closer to his, your chest smushed up against him now. In doing so, you roll your hips forward against his naturally and hear the way his breath hitches. Then you feel something.
Poking-, no, jumping up against your clothed cunt in between the many, many layers between the two of you is the thickness of his bulge. And with it comes another wave of sloppy kisses.
Choso’s hands are everywhere against you now, literally.
Something in you seems to snap at the feeling of his cock growing under you and right after you let yourself gasp at the sheer size of it one more time, the hands you had on his chest manage to recline him back against his bed.
Choso hits the mattress with a soft huff of previously lost air and his brows twist up to flash something needy at you. “Fuck,” Scratches out of his throat whilst he stares at the way you look on top of him.
So pretty…
There’s a single string of shared saliva dribbling out of the corner of your mouth and he almost moans as you start leaning down to him again, his arms moving so that he could wrap them around you. Then your lips meet again and this time it isn’t even sloppy, just hungry.
The sound is loud, louder than any kiss you’ve had lately, and noisy enough to earn a couple of smiles from him in between all the kissing. Breathing into your mouth, “You shouldn’t have told me that shit,” Choso sears as one of his hands comes up to the back of your head, the other at your neck now. “Can’t even calm myself down…”
Followed by his not-so-gentle admission is another heavy pulse from his fully erect cock.
You manage to pluck yourself away from his mouth long enough to say, “I don’t see why,” Then you snort cockily, “S’not like you’ve changed my track record.”
“Yet,” Choso quickly corrects. And before you can add another snarky comment in response, “But that’s alright, I’m about to.” He claims, tipping his head back to relax as his hands fall away from your body completely, “Come get up here.”
You blink, “Huh? Up…” Searching his frame as if you weren’t already on top of him, your brows tweeze together, “...where?”
Even with the poking of his dick, he takes this moment to gather himself and reach over to swipe up the blunt you were last smoking. Then he shuffles for a lighter and sparks it up again, taking a hit and returning his attention to you as if the little intermission didn’t have you on edge.
You had no idea what he meant by ‘get up here’ when you were literally sitting in his lap already. Surely he didn’t mean–
“On my face,” Choso clarifies, a sexy cloud of fumes ghosting out of his mouth along with his words.
At first, you just stared at him and watched him smoke. Your body was thrumming with need in multiple areas but you just couldn’t fathom sitting on his face. Surely, that’d be pretty unsafe to do while both of you are heavily intoxicated. Hell, you can barely see around his bedroom, how can he possibly expect you to sit on his face…
Well, a few minutes later and you’re halfway there.
Not quite sitting—after a million and one concerns of being scared to suffocate him—you’re now hovering over Choso’s face. You refused to meet eyes with him so you’re turned the opposite direction and your hands are helping your body remain hoisted up as they rest on the bed, caging the lower half of his body—just as your legs were doing to his head right now.
Your pants have been snatched off and you’re completely exposed to the greed of his eyes. He’s hardly touched you ever since you caved and brought your bare pussy up over his face. You’ve been left to stare at the throbbing bulge that rests a few inches away from your face and you feel awkward.
Y’know, until there’s a warm blow of intoxicated air that swirls up against your dripping cunt. Followed by which is the sound of Choso lapping over his lips at the sight, scoffing after. One thumb finally draws up to meet the left lip of your pussy as he slips it over and reveals more of your slicked glory. Your cunt clenches embarrassingly at his first touch and you silently hope he doesn’t notice how you drip when he starts talking.
“Shiit,” Choso begins, voice heavy in baritone now—no longer from the weed but purely from his own arousal, “You’re tellin’ me nobody’s made this pretty girl cum?” He asks, “Who the fuck have you been goin’ to, huh?”
You glance back at him over your shoulder, hardly able to see his face with the way you’re hovering, “Cho, I—“
“Shhh, I’ll take care of ya’. Don’t sweat it.” He claims, to which you roll your eyes. He always fuckin’ says that… “Now sit.”
Another gulp is heard from you, “Choso, I already told you. I don’t wanna crush—“
Rolling those blown-out brown eyes of his, Choso’s other hand meets your hip with a mean grip before he tugs your body down and your cunt promptly meets his greedy face. “So stubborn.”
The gasp you let out at the initial contact of his lips against your wetness makes something inside you crave the ability to disappear. You were hot before but now you’re soaking and heated all over.
Your nerves felt like they were on fire and your hips practically melted downwards when you felt Choso’s tongue slither out to get the first taste of you. “Hnngh-, fuck…” You breathe, fingers curling into the sheets to hold onto.
You’ve gotten head from guys plenty of times but this was so much different. And he only just started!
You definitely had your high to blame for the way his tongue feels glissading upwards in between your lathering folds—the sensation so strong and pleasurable you swore for a second he had two tongues or something. Of course, that’s just the weed talking but shit…
“S’sweet…” Choso mumbles into your cunt, pulling away just to spit and then using the fat of his thumb to rub the slick of it into you, “Poor baby, nobody could make you cum, huh?” He says.
You start to open your mouth—thinking he was talking to you—but when his thumb presses past that rather welcoming ring of resistance and earns one gorgeous squelch, you quickly realize he’s not talking to you at all.
“Yeahh?” He purrs, one eager smile plastering itself out across his face, “You needed someone to come talk to you directly?”
Choso toys with your insides using only his thumb for a while, grinning wickedly the whole way through as he watches the way your pussy splurts out such saccharine sounds of slick ‘n filth. It’s not until your soakage is dripping down his hand that he finds himself grunting and then dragging his thumb out of you tenderly.
Sticking it into his mouth just to suck your taste off for a second, you hear the way he moans around his own digit. Then, before you have time to realize just how wet you really are, there are two dumbly thick fingers slipping past the plush of your folds, wiggling in deep and coaxing a pitched sound out of your throat.
“Y’like that, huh?” Choso mutters from beneath you, jaw already coated with the sweet traces of your taste, “You’re bein’ so loud, this must feel really good…” He comments softly. Then his fingers abruptly slip out of you and swat over to your clit to land a couple of wet smacks against, earning nothing more than a whine from you. To which he chuckles and tilts his head at the little quiver your cunt does in reaction, “Hah, s’okay, you don’t have to answer… she’s doin’ plenty of talkin’ for you.”
Those little smacks of his quickly grow repetitive and as he does so, he lets his jaw fall open and hangs his tongue out to capture the syrupy drip that oozes off of your walls.
When he starts working you over his fingers again, you don’t even realize the upper half of your body has slumped over until you feel something pressing up against your cheek. Your eyes had fluttered shut and everything, having grown so lost in the pleasure of his fingers that you didn’t even realize what you’d laid yourself on.
Lifting your head, you look over and stare at the outline of his cock again. There’s a slight patch of wetness where his plump tip is resting and you’re moving before you’re thinking.
“Aw-, woahh..” Choso gasps from behind you, to which your senses come back to you a bit whilst you push his sweatpants down. “What uh-,” His voice almost cracks for a second there but he swallows the hindrance in his voice down. Then he’s hissing when your hand slips under his boxers and wraps around his curving shaft, “Fuck.. what’re you doin’?”
The curve in your back deepens and the fingers he’s got inside you now get swallowed up even tighter the second his cock springs out. With wide eyes and a drooling mouth, you don’t even hesitate to take his length into your hand and then let your breath hit it as you whisper, “Returning the favor, Cho…”
He scoffs, “You don’t have to-, holy shit…” The mere press of your warm lips against his leaky cockhead is enough to make him whine. And as if encouraged, you quickly spread your mouth over him and ease it down around his dick, letting your tongue lap at the sides upon your descent. “Oh god, your throat feels s-so fuckin’ good…. A-All this and people had the nerve to leave you unsatisfied? Tch.”
Meeting you halfway, Choso dives back into your cunt with the entirety of his mouth. You feel the ball of his tongue piercing tickle your walls as he stretches you out against the glutinous pink muscle—your moaning around his cock sending filthy vibrations all throughout his body.
His hips thrust up instinctively and his lips pop off of you with a sharp breath, “Fuck, princess… Do that again, yeah?”
Your cheeks hollow out as your jaw widens and you force yourself down further until his fat tip is bumping up against the back of your throat, earning a nasty gag from you. You try to lift yourself to breathe but you’re met with a sudden pressure at the back of your head as he swiftly pushes you back down.
“Hold it f’me,” Choso groans, “Need you t’feel me back there,” He adds shortly after. Then, keeping your head still, “There ya’ go, gooood girl…” He praises as his hips start bucking up again until your eyes are coated with tears.
Truth be told, Choso isn’t normally this rough with anyone he fucks. But the high buzzing throughout his brain has him acting different. He can't get over the way your lips feel wrapped around his cock like a warm hug. And the way he slides all the way down your throat perfectly? Oh, you’re lucky he hasn’t cum inside your mouth already.
The dark hairs he has decorating the area around the base of his heavy length tickle your chin with how wide your lips are parted around him. You could feel him leaving soggy kisses against your uvula and all it did was make you soak above his face.
When you finally give him another moan as your face presses snuggly against his skin—the veins trailing his dick pulsing with little heartbeats against your tongue—he lets your head go. You fly up a bit and start coughing softly, glancing back at him with a pout as you wipe your mouth off, just to see that he’s already moving on to do something else as if he didn’t just choke you out on his dick less than two seconds ago.
Choso’s got a joint perched between his lips as he takes a loooong drag from it and when he plucks it away from his mouth, he takes his free hand and moves it to your hip. You don’t even realize what’s happened until something heated is slapping up against your slobbering cunt. The sensation makes you jump and then Choso—ever the freak—is leaning up to shotgun a kiss directly into the puffy folds of your cunt.
“Ch-Choso,” You choke, “What the f-fuuck…”
Then your hips are lifting as if to escape him and something throaty and annoyed reverberates its way out of his throat before you feel his painted fingernails dig into your skin and force you back down, his head shaking up into your pussy whilst his tongue lathers into the deepest depths of your slutty cavern.
Then you hear the wet, gushing smacks that his mouth against your cunt begins to make, feeling a certain sensation bloom in the pit of your stomach. Your legs are twitching around his head and you’re whining. “Choso, w-wait… please, I-I feel weird…”
Instead of acknowledging your words, he just groans something filthy and hot against you, “Such a sloppy pussy, droolin’ allll over me like this…” He points out. You’re not sure if it’s possible but he’s clearly high off of you and not just the weed.
You try rolling your hips back to see if that would capture his attention but all that does is make his cock drip with creamy slathers of white from the slit. As you notice that, you try to lean down and suck on his neglected tip, hoping that would get his mouth to go easy on you for just a second.
Unfortunately for you, that did the exact opposite.
Instead, Choso’s pulling back to spit a gloopy wad of spit onto your cunt and then scoffing, “You should tell me-, hah.. who the assholes are,” He mutters, beyond pussy drunk, “The ones that couldn’t make you cum,” His tongue flicks around as if he were spreading his own saliva via spelling something out, “Then let me send ‘em the sexy lil’ mess m’about to make of you….”
Prying away from his cock for a second, “That’d be so-, mmgh! Right there, Choso…”
“Yeah? Right here? This is the spot they couldn’t find? How pathetic,” He’s searing with his tongue, drawing his name into your gluey walls all cursive-like, making your eyes roll back. “You’re so easy to please,” He teases, smiling after, “Unless, of course… fuck, that’s only ‘cause of me?” Choso asks, spitting again just to have the entire space in between your legs a slopped, wet mess, “S’that what it is? You like the way I treat this pussy?”
“Yesss, Cho,” You whine ever so thankfully.
And of course, he leans back up to french-kiss your pussy lips in response. You’re so high ‘n horny that you don’t even realize the number of times you’d let your shimmery gloss of release coat the insides of his mouth by now.
Not until he’s felt smiling into you, “Mgh.. again? How many times is that now? Eight?” The number makes you inhale swiftly in surprise, your hand squeezing the base of his cock a bit tighter as you move your head to the side to moan deliciously. “Gimme one more ‘n I’ll give you a break…” He coos, pierced tongue massaging your sensitive folds now.
At that, something prominent builds up within you. “Choso, mmnh! I-I think I’m… ohgod… m’gonna cum,” You pant, lazily jerking him off with what little strength you have in your hand.
He snickers, “Silly girl, you already did that. I think what’s about to happen now is uh…” His voice trails for a moment so that he could plug your hole in with his fingers and curl them against your g-spot, “You’re about to squirt f’me…” Choso tells you.
And squirt for him you do.
You never thought you could feel pleasure so good that you couldn’t even tell you’d finished until you were at the point of squirting. It’s a weird sensation that makes you moan his name loud enough for his fraternity brothers to hear outside of his room.
Your entire body convulses and your mind just blanks out. You think his fingers are somewhere around your clit and his tongue is back in between your slippery walls but you couldn’t tell at this point—all you knew was that you were making a mess all over his face.
And through it, he was down there praising you. “That’s it, thaaaat’s it, princess..” Letting his tongue dangle out again to slur, “Right on my fuckin’ face, I want everyyy drop.”
It’s embarrassing for you—y’know, squirting all over your plug’s face just from his stupidly skillful tongue and fingers. You wanted to hate every second of it, hate how nasty you felt by the time your orgasmic high began to diminish but, fuck there wasn't a single thought left in your brain.
You told the man no guy was making you cum and he did so consecutively without even putting his cock inside you. Not only that, he was faded the entire time!
Arguably, you were too so that’s likely why you were so sensitive to his mouth to begin with but… still.
You feel like you black out after your orgasm but, it’s only for a few seconds. Eventually, your ears catch the loud roar of his groans and bat your tear-coated eyelashes open to see his cock has spilt globs of cum out around your hand. Your grasp on him instantly releases and you scoff softly at the sticky mess.
Both of your orgasms leave your bodies motionless for a long while—your frame slumped over against his—and nothing but the sound of filthy pants echo throughout his fogged room.
Choso’s the first to eventually break the silence with a breathy, “And uh, next time come to me when you wanna get off…” He murmurs, feeling your limp body weight shift against him a little, “…not just for weed, okay?”
“Uhuh..” You babble tiredly.
“Good,” He sighs. “'Cause I charge pretty cheap for these sex sessions.”
Freezing, “What?”
Choso chuckles, a weary smile painted across his slicked face, “I told you I don’t do anything for free, didn’t I?”
